Standing across from Devina, in the backyard of the Internal Affairs officer's house, Adrian was not reacting to a target for the first time in his unnatural, immortal life.

How's Eddie doing? Smelling like a rose?

As he stared over Jim's shoulder at that fake-ass glamour-puss piece of evil, the demon's words banged around his skull sure as if she'd put a minion under his chrome dome and the fucker was whaling at his brain with a sledgehammer.

The old Adrian would have trampled Jim, or anything else in his path, to lock his hands around her throat and squeeze until she didn't just suffocate, but he snapped her ugly head right off her spine.

That was, however, precisely what she expected. What she was banking on. The reason she'd spoken.

And he stayed in control as it dawned on him that his hothead routine was the reason his best friend had been murdered. Jim was right: Destabilization was the name of the game, and the demon had done what she had because she was sure it was going to help her in the war.

So, yeah, as much as it killed him, as much as it ground his molars and fisted his balls, he simply stood where he was.

He couldn't answer her, though. He didn't trust himself to open his mouth.

"Eddie's safe and sound," Jim said. "And we're taking care of him."

"New jobs as morticians. How quaint." Devina smiled broadly, as if she were truly, deeply happy. "But don't you miss him, Adrian? Never mind, I ca feel you from here. You know, if you ever need a shoulder to cry on, I'm always available."

Just as he was about to tell her to shove the plastic sympathy so far up her ass she gagged on the shit, Jim tightened his hold on Ad's arm - until the guy was all but cutting off the circulation.

And the savior was right: If he reacted as Devina wanted him to, Eddie had died for fucking nothing. Which was the only thing worse than their losing him in the first place.

On that note, he put his other hand over Jim's so that they were both holding him in place.

Devina seemed momentarily nonplussed. But it didn't last. "Paralyzed by grief, Adrian?"

An eternity passed.

And sometime in those infinite heartbeats between her taunts and his nonreaction, he started to grow cold: His emotions ceased to run to any kind of extreme, as if they had burned out - and like a star that collapsed in on itself, he felt a turning tide that retracted him out of Devina's reach.

She would have been better off to just leave him alone and let him stew in his anger. But now that she'd pushed him into this arctic clarity, for the first time, he could respond solely with his mind and not his heart.

He released his grip on Jim and stepped away from the savior. As he separated them, Jim's head ripped around as if he were about to intercede, but Adrian just stood next the guy and faced the enemy.

"Did you want something, Devina?" Adrian said in a dark voice. "Or is this just a social call."

Cue another round of silence. This time, however, Devina started to fidget with her long hair, her short skirt, her gold bangles.

And for Ad, there was no satisfaction at ruining the demon's fun. There was just a deadly quiet in his chest, a resonate power that for all his ferocious warrior instincts, he had never gotten close to before.

It was as if he'd been reborn. And he'd be damned if he ever went back to who he had been.

Literally.

As Jim looked over at the other angel, he thought, Okay, who the fuck are you, and what have you done with Adrian Vogel.

The male beside him wasn't anything close to the guy he'd met and worked with for the last two rounds in the war. This was a robot who looked like Ad: utterly identical, but completely rewired from the original.

There was no emotion in his face, his body, his vibe.

Nothing.

And something told Jim the shift was permanent, like the guy's motherboard had been blown out and replaced. Hard to know if it was good news or bad, though. The lightning-quick temper was gone. The passion was gone. The heat was gone. In its place? Icy calculation - which made him untouchable in a way.

And that was a sword that cut both ways, didn't it. But whatever, there was time to worry about repercussions later.

Jim turned his head back to Devina. "So what's it going to be. Social? Or business."

Devina swept her brunette hair up and out, the waves bouncing with health like she was in a shampoo commercial. "I'm very busy."

"Then why are you standing here talking." Jim took out his Marlboros and shook fr a cig. "If you're such a busy little girl."

"Oh, you have no idea how much I'm working on." Her nasty smile was the kind of thing horror movies tried to pull off and couldn't get anywhere near. "I'm all about the game changers. And I'm looking forward to this round being over."

"Because you like the taste of losing?" He took out his Bic and lit up. "Strange appetite you have there, sweetheart."

"I like the taste of you." She ran her hand down her body. "And I'm going to gorge myself soon enough."

"Doubt it."

"Have you forgotten our agreement?"

"Oh, I remember it."

"And I haven't lied."

"You must be so proud."

When Jim said nothing further, she played with her hair a little more ... and that was it. She just stood there in front of them, all girlie-girlie, going-nowhere. Hell, maybe she thought she was being admired. Maybe she was dumb-blonding it, even though she didn't really have hair. Maybe she was ...

Holy shit, she was having a girlfriend moment, wasn't she. Sulking because she hadn't been able to find him. That was the "why," wasn't it.

Fucked up. This was too fucked up.

Date from hell was right.

And even though he didn't know why she couldn't find him, sometimes luck was with you.

Abruptly, her gaze shifted over to the house. In the back window, in the kitchen, Veck and Reilly made an appearance. They were both looking disheveled, and it was clear a whole lot of somethin'-somethin' had just happened somewhere : They were both in the glow-zone, happy and satisfied, to the point where Jim was pretty damn sure if the lights were to go out, they'd be glowing in the dark.

"I fucking hate them," Devina said, crossing her arms over her breasts.

Bet you do, he thought. Because those were two people in love right there.

And the envy was killing her, her face screwing down tight, eyes lighting up with hatred. She wanted that with him.

Ha, ha.

"So did you need something," he asked in a low, deep voice.

Her head snapped around. "Do you."

To keep her going, the answer, of course, was not to be nice. And gee fuckin' whiz, that was so not hard.

"Not from you." Jim assumed a bored expression as he took a drag and exhaled. "Never from you."

The fury on her face made him happy. Until she growled, "Because of that fucking Sissy."

Wrong turn, he thought. Waaaaay wrong turn on that one.

"Sissy who."

"Don't toy with me."

"I'm not. At least, not at the moment." He let his lids go half-mast. "When I play with you, you'll know it."

Even though the words sickened him, it got her off the scent: Abruptly, she flushed as if she were remembering them together, and then she smiled, big and slow.

"Promise?" she said huskily.

"Promise."

At that, she did a little twirl of joy.

Great. Like his stomach wasn't already nauseous.

"Then again, maybe I'm a liar," he drawled. "Guess you'll have to wait and see."

"Guess so." Her eyes went up and down his body. "And I can't wait."

Frankly, the shit made Jim shrivel, but he blocked that from her. And he wasn't taking for granted that he had total control over the demon. Even infatuated, she was a deadly piece of work, and he couldn't be sure this weapon of his was going to last forever.

For however long he could, though, and at whatever cost to himself it required, he was going to try to keep this connection cultivated.

"Well, I think it's time to bring this round to a close, Jim." Devina did another pirouette. "I have to go back to work, but I'll be seeing you soon."

"If Veck's in this house, why do you need to be anywhere else."

"Like I said, I'm a busy girl, as you'll find out." She blew him a kiss. "Bye for now. And Adrian, call me if you need a shoulder to cry on."

On that note, she was off into the night, fogging up, fogging out.

Shit. If she wasn't here with Veck, he had to assume the fight was somewhere else.

"Fuck," he muttered, ready to hit something.

"No," Adrian said. "We stay here. We stay with Veck."

Jim looked over. Old Adrian? Would have been the one seething to cut loose and follow her. New Adrian? The icy motherfucker was tight as hell, his cold, dispassionate eyes shifting over to Jim's.

"She's not going to crack us," Ad announced. "We're going to stay focused and right here. Smoke and mirrors ain't going to move me."

Now, that's what I'm talking about, Jim thought, with respect.

At that moment, the sound of a car pulling up in front of the house broke through the night. Flashing out to the street with Adrian, Jim unsheathed his dagger - except then he saw the little Domino's sign glowing on the sedan's roof.

Oh, maaaaaaan. Pizza ... and sex. Maybe Devina had a point.

Hard not to be envious.

The deliveryman got out of his beater and hoofed it up the walkway. Veck answered the door, paid cash, disappeared back inside. Car drove off.

In the moments that followed, Jim itched to go after Devina; he could sense her presence elsewhere in the city ... but maybe that was what she wanted?

You could never trust her.

New Adrian was right: They stayed here and hung tough.

"Thanks, man," Jim said without looking away from the closed and locked front door of the house.

"No problem," was the terse answer.

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