It’s a true wonder that our children don’t run screaming when they realize that we’re just like they are: flawed and making our own ways through the world. But which is more terrifying:

The fact that they’re just like us, or we’re just like them?

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A college campus at ten in the morning is a far busier place than at ten in the evening. Students and faculty are hustling through hallways in a manner most reminiscent of last-minute Christmas shoppers. And parking… let’s just say that parking in Charleston is never ideal and that the only reason I managed to find a place to leave the car was because Tristan still had my badge. He flirted with the campus policewoman while I flashed the badge… and she promised to keep an eye on the car. He’s definitely mine, no question about it.

We found the witness being cornered by two of Charleston’s well meaning but overbearing finest. I chased them away from her after explaining who I was and who had sent me, and Tristan trailed along after us as I walked her to an unused classroom. It didn’t occur until later that he was probably following so he could watch her from behind.

Her name was Carolyn Calhoun, and she smiled at Tristan as she told him that he could call her ‘CC’ in a sultry southern voice that could have hooked nearly any man she’d wanted. I swallowed my exasperated disbelief and asked Miss Calhoun what she knew of the campus kidnapper. It was a moment before he smiled her in my direction, and I had to repeat my query before she answered.

“Oh… he was tall and pale, with long dark hair. I thought I saw… I dunno, it was dark. But I was on my way across campus; Jenny had thrown a party you see, and it was late, and I had a paper to do. Okay, I left and cut across the Cistern to get back over to Delta Delta and I saw this ghost thing, you know, like this figure in white? His hair was dark and really long like some guy in a Japanese videogame, and he was all bent over this girl. I thought they were sucking face right there, so I yelled at them to go back to the hotel. Well, he grabbed her and took off like I was a cop, but what I really wanted to tell you was that I thought he had bat-like wings. But it was probably the alcohol I’d had at Jenny’s.”

Her words hit me with an ocean wave of Southern accent and my brain skipped along, uncomprehending until she got to the words ‘figure in white.’ At that point, the back of my brain woke up, replayed the entire conversation to my awareness and caught me up right about the time she mentioned the wings. “You’re likely correct; alcohol consumption impairs your senses, and couple that with the late hour and the shadows… the human brain has an endless capacity to play tricks on itself.” I suddenly had this flash of awareness, as if I’d suddenly turned into Xelander and I suppressed a shiver.

Tristan flashed me a look, and I ignored him, looking to the young woman as I fished a card out of my badge folio before handing it to her. “You’ve been of great assistance, Miss Calhoun, and should you think of anything else, feel free to call me anytime.”

“Oh, I don’t know, it was dark, and I’d had more than a little to drink. Jenny’s parties are always the best.” She turned to my son and flashed a perfect smile at him. “I should get your number and you can come to the next party she throws. I’m sure she’d love to meet you.”

I bit my tongue and took a deep breath before I spoke, looking to Tristan pointedly. “Tristan, if you’d be so kind as to walk the young lady out, I’ll meet you at the car.” I wanted to make a phone call and then talk to the two officers that I’d spirited her away from, given that they were probably still on site.

My son glanced at me, and then grinned as he took Miss Calhoun by the arm to lead her out of the room, asking about the parties as they went. I suspected that he’d have her phone number before they got too far, and I shook my head as I took my phone from my pocket. It was easy to dial Ravenswing, and when he answered, I didn’t even bother with a greeting. “I’m hearing word of Demon activity in the Peninsula area. Is it one of yours?”

“If there is any activity in the Downtown area, it is not of my association. I’ve been told of the kidnappings, however. Terrible shame, that. A police officer’s sister is involved, I understand. So unfortunate.” Right away, I knew that he knew something about it, and I’d have to play his games to find out. But he surprised me. “You’d do well to consider the affiliations of the previous Gate owner, but that’s just what I hear. Vanessa sends her thanks for last night.”

I got it, loud and clear. “Tell Vanessa that if she needs anything else, she is free to call on me.” One of the police officers from earlier had appeared in the doorway, and I didn’t want to arouse suspicions. “I’ll touch base later this afternoon and make sure everything went well. Have a good one.” I hung up before Ravenswing could speak again and looked to the officer with a lifted eyebrow. “Right, what have you got for me, Officer…” I squinted my eyes and made out his nametag. “Walton?”

“Your partner said to give you a copy of the interview. I didn’t know that Interpol was working with us to profile. Sorry about earlier, we’d have waited.” He offered me a sheet of paper with a business card attached, and I took it, skimming through the handwriting quickly. She hadn’t told them about the wings. Interesting.

Partner? Was he talking about Tristan? I decided in the interest of expediency, I’d let that one slide. “That’s fine; I’m doing a favor in assisting. Is this mine, or do I need to make a copy?”

“I ran one off in the teacher’s lounge for you. What do you think? Just some nutjob copycat, or do we have a real serial case here?”

I thought we had an out-of-control demon, but I wasn’t telling him that. “I haven’t been able to build a full profile yet, but this will help. Have you anything else that I might be able to reference while I’m working up my profile?”

He paused, but then shook his head. “No, I think that’s everything. I called in and they told me you had copies of the other files.” I had to give him credit there, and I nodded. “I’ll… leave you to it, then. The campus types get a little jumpy when we’re around. That’s my card; call me if you need anything and I’ll see what I can do.”

As Officer Walton slipped out of the room, I scanned the card, and then folded the paper in half to hide the writing from easy view. It would go in my file at home where I could peruse it at will, but right now, I had to find Tristan. I had a bad feeling about leaving him loose on a college campus.

I found him leaned against the rental car. Alone. Something was desperately wrong. “Tristan…?” He looked at me, quirked a smile and a shrug, then moved away from the car and dragged his hand through his hair, revealing his ears for a moment. I’d never get used to that and resisted the urge to run my fingers through my own hair to make sure my ears were not only covered, but still round. “So… you weren’t her type, then?”

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"Give me more credit than that. Last thing you need is me flirting with the entire female population of this place while you’re trying to find a kidnapper. Did you get anything useful out of Tweedledee and Tweedledum?” I was torn between amusement and exasperation, a combination of emotions that I was rapidly coming to identify as those associated with being a parent, and I’d only had him underfoot for a few hours. Heaven help me.

“Watch it,” I muttered, unwilling to allow the slight to police officers, even if they were a bit bumbling by our standards. “Right, then. Partner.” I let a little stress hit the last word and he gave me a half-grin that wasn’t nearly as abashed as it probably should have been. I shook my head at him and pointed to the car as I unlocked the doors. “In. I’ve got work to do. And no, other than the copy of the police report, there wasn’t anything useful.” I settled into the seat and started the car as he closed the door. “I will note that she didn’t tell them about the wings. Then again, I’m guessing you flashed your eartips at her.”

“Nope. I tried to stay out of it except with the woman who didn’t want you parking there.” He looked out the window as I pulled away and headed into traffic. “I’ve noticed that magic users can usually spot each other, though. Maybe she’s got enough talent to know you’re not exactly normal.”

“Not exactly normal.” Thanks for the vote of confidence, Tristan. “Don’t know where you’ve been, but you’d best get a little more ‘PC’ about things before you blunder into a situation with a hyper-sensitive American.” I shook my head and turned down Tradd Street, heading back to the townhouse. “You didn’t say where you were staying in Charleston.”

“I didn’t, because I wasn’t.” He was looking out the side window again. “I’d just come to…” his voice trailed off into an uncomfortable silence, and I nodded, pulling into the parking area behind my townhouse.

“You’d come to tell me what you’d thought, and then be done with me. Bang about Charleston for a while, and then head off somewhere else. No real plan, just emotion turned into action.” I parked the car and turned to look at Tristan. “It’s what I did; I understand.”

His eyes were wide when he looked at me, and I suddenly remembered him as the boy who had stood at the steps of the airplane and had to be ushered on by a patient stewardess. It wasn’t one of my better memories, and I blinked it away, turning to shut the car off. “I’d like it if you stayed a while, but I can understand if you need to get going.”

“I’ve got nowhere to be.” It tried to sound nonchalant.

I knew what he wasn’t saying, and I nodded, getting out of the car. As he followed suit, I locked it and headed to the back door to the townhouse. “I’ve only the one bedroom set up, but I don’t sleep much. I’ll get the sheets changed and you can stay here. I’ll get someone to bring furniture for the other bedroom tomorrow.”

“Don’t know that I want to sleep in your bed.” It wasn’t a fully voiced comment, and I figured he’d meant to keep it to himself, so I ignored it and led him up the stairs to the bedroom. “You weren’t kidding that you don’t really live here, were you?”

That was said aloud, and I glanced at him before opening the closet and pulling out sheets. “It’s just a place, Tristan. Not anything close to a home. It may have been once upon a memory… but for someone else. Not for me.” I busied myself with the bedsheets and ignored his poking in the bathroom and his idle commentary on my choice of soaps. They were, after all, mostly leftovers from Suzu’s preferences.

“Doesn’t take much imagination to know what goes on in this place. You need to get out more.”

“Are we starting this again?” I tugged the blanket a little harder than I’d meant to, but luckily it didn’t come up at the bottom.

“No, just…” He sat on the bed, and any chance of setting the duvet was out. “It’s bizarre, you know. Having this mental image of you, and thinking that you were like… I dunno, some action hero always getting the girl and leaving a trail of broken hearts behind you, only to find out that I wasn’t that far off the beat, it’s a bit odd.”

Oh, I left trails of broken hearts. Just not the type of broken hearts he was thinking. “The real world is far different from the movies or books, Tristan. There isn’t much glamour in accounting or police investigations, both of which I spend my time doing.”

‘Christ,” he said, looking at me in dismay. “You’re boring.”

Boring was the last word I’d use to describe myself, but what he didn’t know might not kill him.

By lunch time, I had compiled two profiles of the kidnapper. One was the full listing, with references to demonic natures and great big bat wings, and the other was carefully re-written for the mundanes of the world. Both write-ups agreed that he had long dark hair and pale skin, and that his motive was likely a power trip of control. The mundane profile indicated that his record should be checked for juvenile delinquency and that he probably had bonding issues with his peers and parents. The real profile discussed his probable demonic nature.

I sat back to consider my next course of action, and when I opened my eyes, Tristan was seated in the chair on the other side of the coffee table, lazily flipping through a tourist guide. Confusion washed through me, and I sat up, knocking the folder that had fallen against me to the floor. Wry amusement colored Tristan’s voice when he spoke. “For someone who says he doesn’t sleep much, you certainly dedicate yourself to a nap.”

I’d fallen asleep? I didn’t remember dreaming, which was highly unusual. “Yeah, sorry about that. I guess I was tired.” Running on the far edge of exhaustion was more like it, but I wasn’t going to say that. “What time is it?” I fumbled my phone out of my pocket and cringed when the screen lit. It was almost eleven in the evening. “Damn.”

“You must have needed it. I tried to wake you, but there wasn’t much for it.” I had no idea where the tourist guide had come from, but he closed it and tossed it lightly onto the coffee table. “I went down to the café at the end of the street. They had some pretty good potato-salad-thing, so I brought some back if you’re hungry.”

Well, I knew I was a lousy host. This only certified it. “Next time, try the macaroni and cheese; it’s one of the best things on the menu.” I moved to pick up the folder and set it on the table next to the tourist guide. “I suppose I ought to tell you that I try to sleep as little as possible because of nightmares. If you’re going to stay here for a while, you’re bound to find it out the hard way.”

His blue gaze was so much like mine that I found it unnerving. “Yeah. Figured that part out about twenty minutes after you fell asleep.”

Oh, hell. I opened my mouth, but he waved his hand at me dismissively, leaning back in the chair. “It wasn’t that big of a deal. I’ve known people who were a hell of a lot harder to deal with during nightmares. You don’t kick and fight like my ex-lover. I’d wake up halfway out of the bed with her knee or foot in my back.”

My brain scrambled away from the thought of my son with lovers, and I shook my head at him. “No, that’s one thing I know that I don’t do unless…” I closed my mouth and shook my head. “Regardless, I’ll keep the noise down while you’re asleep.” I started moving into the kitchen when a whispered thought occurred to me, and I stopped and turned around to see him watching me. “Hang on… you said I’d had a nightmare, but I always remember them.”

I knew that look he was giving me. I knew it as well as if I had worn it on my own face. It was the same expression I used at times that I didn’t want to admit something. My lips twitched in memory of something that danced just out of reach, and I watched him look away and down to the table. He picked up the tourist guide again and opened it. “Which would you suggest, the museum or the aquarium?” His voice was carefully nonchalant, and I recognized that too. He didn’t want to talk about it.

“They’re both worth visiting if you’re willing to spend the time. I won’t be free until I get this demon captured, which is what I plan to do after I eat. You probably need some sleep yourself, it’s late for you.” I walked into the kitchen, found the potato salad in the refrigerator and scooped out one spoonful and ate it. Who needs bowls when you eat less than a bird?

I tucked the container back in the refrigerator and snagged myself a bottle of water, bumping the door shut and walking back into the front room. He was watching me, and I moved back over to the table and picked up the folder. “I’ll probably be gone all night, so don’t wait up. I’ll have my cell on me, and the number is programmed into the phone, just call if you need anything.”

He watched me leave the townhouse with an expression that I couldn’t read, but there was no way I was going to let him go with me and put himself in danger while I tracked down a demonic creature. Immortality wasn’t hereditary, at least, not my kind of immortality.