Cain hadn’t spoken with me in ages. I’d visit him every once-in-awhile at his shop, but he was always too busy to talk. I’d sneak out and go to the back entrance, only to see his bike long gone. Indulging in my finer abilities as a stalker, I soon realized he wasn’t at home, either. In fact, he had moved.

As if Mephisto’s appearance in his life hadn’t been plenty to drive him from me, it had taken my involvement in his dream world to totally freak him out. Then again, I didn’t know if something else had happened... I hadn’t seen Mephisto in awhile, either, and it was possible that the demon had done something rash enough to keep him away.

Fine. Let him be that way. Let them both abandon me. I didn’t care. I didn’t need either of them. Time to enlist into the ranks of normal people and have a sane life again.

Except, I didn’t. My mother was still an alcoholic lunatic, and was prone to barging into my room at three in the morning and throwing glasses against the wall. My dad had run away from home, moving into an apartment across town without any solid plan for a real divorce. Currently, I was my mother’s only target. It became harder and harder to leave the house at night, as her dilated eye was now fixed on me. I loved her and hated her.

Usually I would run away into the embrace of slumber, to meet Mephisto, but he was gone. I was so bitter, I could taste bile in my mouth. And still six months before I would turn eighteen, before I could legally depart this reality.

In a moment of weakness, I looked at my mirror and muttered under my breath, “Where are you? I need you. Right now.”

No answer. It figured.

The next day, I didn’t go straight home. I also didn’t waste my time going to Cain’s shop to pine over him futilely. Instead, I went to a coffee shop that I frequented long before Cain came into my life.

“11th Ave Cafe.”

Slid across some money I had forgotten in a jacket pocket, got a vanilla latte. Sat down alone. Alone for a moment.

“Can I sit here?”

I looked up over my cup with a habitual glare I reserved for complete strangers. Behind the steam stood a buxom woman in a black corset. Her short curly hair was tipped red, and a smug grin meandered across her face.

“Sure,” I answered with hesitation. I looked out the window uncomfortably. What could she want?

“I like this place,” she began. “Never been here before. To Portland, I mean. Not as many hippies as I expected.”

She had an honest humor about her that was compelling. But I was on edge. I didn’t know what to think about anything or anyone, these days.

“Oh, excuse me, I didn’t introduce myself, did I?” She smiled and reached a hand across. I proffered mine slightly. Her grip was aristocratic. “I’m Saxonny.”

“Um, hi,” I answered, “I’m—“

“I know! Kaitlyn.”

Ah, now I know why I had felt so uncomfortable. I knew instinctively that she was up to something. “And you know that... why?”

She arched a brow at me and leaned in, her breasts spilling slightly over her tight corset voluptuously. “I’m looking for someone that you know.”

“Who?” I put my coffee down, bracing myself for the answer I already knew.

“Cain Brighton.”

Okay, so that was not the answer I had expected. I paused a moment. She continued.

“Okay, so I’m really looking for Mephisto. But you know how it is...” She winked at me conspiratorially. “Those two are inseparable.”

My hands turned white in their grip on the coffee mug. I burned my fingers.

“And, um, what do you want with them?” I moved to grip my necklace in my usual nervous habit. She eyed the action knowingly.

“Let’s just say, Mephisto has some bills to pay.” Her smile was almost affectionate. “And, in light of his complete abandonment of his protege, I would think she wouldn’t mind sticking it to him. I mean, he does deserve what he has coming to him, doesn’t he?”

“And what does he have coming to him?” I almost whispered.

She bent over. Her words came between ruby lips. “Nothing too terrible. Just the usual price a meddler must pay.” She sipped her coffee with relish before continuing. “A meddler is like a vigilante, taking the law into his own hands. Humans are meant to make their own messes, not have messes brought upon by outside forces. Mephisto has proven he needs to be locked up, so to speak, because he just cannot control himself.” She shook her head and smiled. “Banished from his own plane, so he comes down here to muck around. Just not an honorable way to get back into his queen’s good graces, now is it?” She winked at me. “Your coffee’s gettin’ cold.”

At that mome