It took the whole night. It didn't help that most of the people Lex would have talked to were asleep, and most businesses he would have looked to for help were closed.

But while money couldn't buy everything, it could buy just about any information he was looking for, assuming someone knew it. He wasn't sure who would know where Madison was, but he knew Helen's habits, and he knew that Helen had at least tried to mimic Madison. That, and people tended to remember her—Lex's hadn't been the only head she'd turned.

Day had just broken by the time he was sure he knew where she was, he pulled up to the cheap motel and paid the guy at the front more than enough to get him to give up her room number.

He knocked on the door, and her voice called back, "I paid for another night."

The sound of it made his heart start to race. Some part of him had known it would, but it was more than his feelings for her. She sounded different, different than she had when she was possessed or even when she wasn't. Her voice had hardened, in a way, but she also sounded strained, like she was in pain. "Madison?" he called back. "It's . . ." He swallowed. She might not recognize his voice . . .

The door opened, and water splashed into his face.

"Not a demon." He wiped his eyes, and then he got a good look at her.

She was more muscular than she'd been before, and her face was thinner, paler. Her clothes were tattered and dirt-stained, and her left arm was wrapped up, in a sling.

But her eyes were wide. "How did you find me?" she asked.

"Ah. Long story. Caught wind you might be in trouble."

"Have you been spying on me?"

"Nothing like that."

She stared at him a long moment, then she limped aside, leaving the doorway unblocked.

He stepped inside slowly, head ducked even though that went against everything he'd ever learned about interacting with others. "What happened to your arm?"

"You tell me. You're the one who hunted me down."

Lex frowned. "Are you a hunter?"

She scoffed. "Hardly."

He raised his eyebrows. "So you know about hunters."

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

"You don't spend the better part of a year possessed by a demon without learning a few things." Madison's eyes narrowed. "What's your excuse?"

"I've got friends who are hunters."

"Hunters don't have friends."

"Hunters who don't have friends don't live long."

"And hunters' friends don't live long. I'm better off working alone."

He couldn't help but smile a little, looking down. Helen had done too good a job capturing Madison's personality. Talking with her . . . this was exactly what it had been like. "What happened to your arm?" he asked again.

"Got bitten."

"What, were you hunting a pack of werewolves alone?"

"Told you, I'm not a hunter. I've just been going after Helen."

"How's that been working out for you?"

She sighed. "No idea where she is. I was going after a demon that might have intel on Helen."

"Where did the werewolves come in?"

"He's got an army of them. Guard dogs."

That didn't sound right. "Werewolves aren't easy to control. Most demons would use hell hounds."

She shrugged. "Maybe he found a way."

Lex frowned. Hell hounds were one of a handful of creatures Lex hadn't been able to get any encounters with firsthand, which was a problem, since he had a year left before his bill came due and hell hounds came to drag him to his demise. But werewolves were bad enough—if they had Madison's scent, they wouldn't let her go easily. "You should come back to Smallville with me."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"You're going to turn, Madison, that's not something you can deal with alone."

She winced. "I know. I've been . . . trying all night."

"I'm . . ." He didn't know how to begin to word what was on his mine. "I'm sorry that I was the one to find you."

She shook her head, smiling a little to herself. "I'm thankful you came, Lex. You were always good to me." She went to her bag and rummaged around for a moment, then she held out a gun to him. "Make it quick?"

"No, no." He pushed the gun back. "I can help you."

She raised an eyebrow. "Got a cure for lycanthropy?"

"I'm working on it."

For a moment, that seemed to surprise her, but then she shook her head, chuckling. "Same old Lex."

"Yeah." Lex couldn't quite bring himself to smile, with the gun still in her hand. "I don't have a cure, but I've got supplies and resources. You, uh, you didn't feed yet, did you?"

"Not as far as I know."

"Have you slept?"

"Not since I was bitten."

"That's a good first step. I know of a few werewolves who have lived pretty normal lives, I can connect you with them. It, uh . . . it won't be easy, you'll have to be locked up at night for a little while."

"I don't know about that."

"Locked up is better than dead."

"What if I get out?"

"I won't let that happen."

She looked away, fear in her eyes."

He took a step closer. "I know you don't trust me. But . . ."

"I know better than anyone that I can trust you, Lex."

His breath caught.

She took a step back, looking away. "It's just . . . it's hard to be around you, after . . ."

"You don't have to explain anything to me." Just being here was painful. Admittedly, it wasn't as awkward as he had been expecting—she was still just so easy to talk to—but that was part of what made it so hard. She wasn't the girl he'd married, but she was so, so similar, and they still fit together, and if they'd met a year earlier than they did . . .

He couldn't be thinking this way. He looked her in the eyes, waiting for her to look back at him. "Let me get you back to Smallville. I'll help you get patched up and on your feet, then I'll connect you with someone who can get you better help."

She hesitated, then nodded.