A/N: Alright guys, this one's kind of long. Blame this chapter for the superlong wait -rolls eyes- There were a lot of details I had to cover, and then I felt I needed to backtrack a couple times. There are actually two song references in this one, one comes later in the chapter. The second reference is Getaway by Hilary Duff.

WARNING: Astrid is not a very nice person in this one :( and the song reference below, Famous Last Words, comes highly recommended. If you get the chance, please look it up after you read this.


"Narrow is the road and too high a price to pay,
When loneliness is such a sanctuary
...
Empty are the musings, and wasted are the days...
When you say you were only waiting,"-Jars of Clay

The door swung open and warm light bathed her in its soft glow. Standing in the doorway was a man of Asian decent with close-cropped grey hair. He watched her with dark, glittering eyes. He was clad in a dark blue tunic and trousers.

"I am here to see Dr. Strange," Astrid said quickly. Her breath formed white ghosts in front of her face, the chill winter air biting into her skin.

The man appeared to hesitate. "My master did not inform me there was to be a visitor this evening..."

Astrid smiled sweetly. "He must not have known I was coming then. I'm Astrid Blake, I met him last night. Here," Astrid dug around in her pocket then pulled out the slightly rumpled business card. "He gave me this. Stranger told me to come here." The added consonant slipped easily off her tongue when she spoke his name. It was fitting, really, since for so long she'd only ever known him as a stranger. Her mysterious stranger... Astrid abruptly stopped that train of thought, but not before a pink flush hued her cheeks.

The Asian man peered at the paper clutched in her hands, though he made no attempt to take it from her. Astrid's fingers had turned white from the cold. She hoped the guy would hurry up and make a decision about letting her in. She was freezing her ass off out here.

The man passed his hand over the card, his lips moving silently. After a moment he straightened, appearing satisfied.

"You may come in," He held open the door and ushered her inside. The servant shut the door with an audible click. "One moment please. I will inform Stephen that he has a guest." The older man walked away, disappearing around a curve in the hallway. Astrid took this time to study her surroundings.

The foyer she stood in was small but not stuffy, and opened out into an immaculate hallway. Gas lamps were hung at every other corner, casting flickering shadows on the deep red walls. The hallway seemed to stretch before her. The air shimmered and the room seemed to expand to dizzying dimensions. Astrid felt faint. She stumbled back into the wall, clutching a pale hand to her face. She took several deep breaths to clear her head. When she looked again it was just an ordinary hallway. Creepy. Whatever had just happened was anything but ordinary.

The man, servant she guessed, reappeared only moments later. "The Sorcerer Supreme will see you in his study."

Astrid nodded dumbly. She followed the man down the dark and twisting passageways. Sorcerer Supreme? Astrid swallowed the lump in her throat. She shrugged off the lofty title and willed herself to be accepting of anything that was thrown at her. Things were not always as they seemed, and Astrid was just going to have to get used to that. A sorcerer was he? Astrid could handle that. Right? She thought so anyways. Unfortunately, she was having trouble convincing herself.

Astrid had lost track of how many doors they'd passed and how many turns they'd made. She wanted to smack herself. If she needed to beat a hasty retreat then all she'd accomplish would be to get herself hopelessly lost. Her neck prickled ominously. Astrid got the sense that this place didn't really follow the laws of physics. The inside of the house was much larger than what was viewed from the outside. That was a defiance of natural law in and of itself. What a misleading facade. Very misleading indeed.

The servant abruptly stopped in front of oaken double-doors, one was slightly ajar. Astrid narrowly missed bumping into the quiet servant. She backed up a respectful distance, nervously tucking a strand of golden hair behind her ear. Warm yellow light poured through the crack in the doorway and pooled at their feet, creating a luminescent glow about the hall.

The man rapped lightly on the door, then gently pushed it open with the palm of his hand. Astrid could see Strange within, leaning over a spacious desk with his attention completely devoted to several sheets of paper laid out before him. He neither looked up nor acknowledged their presence.

Astrid glanced at the servant. Should she go in? Astrid was uncertain about the rules of etiquette in this household, but she could tell things here were done delicately. The Asian nodded for her to go in. She gave a small smile of thanks before turning away from the man.

Astrid crossed over the threshold, eyes widening in breathtaking awe at the enormous library she now found herself in. Every wall was lined with shelves, each filled with books upon books of every size and hue. Astrid longed to run her fingers along the spines of the books, to feel the knowledge and the mystery humming beneath her touch. The air smelled faintly sweet, like old parchment and worn books. Astrid breathed deeply. It'd been forever since she'd last stepped foot in a library. Astrid associated the wonderful smell of books with happy memories of going to her favorite bookstores. Back when she had time for such things.

On the opposite wall was a stone fireplace, large enough for a grown man to comfortably lie down in. It was made of simple, crudely cut stones, with dark smoke stains on the mantel. A fire was lit, casting the room in a comfortable glow and taking the chill out of the air. Clearly the fireplace wasn't made for beauty or decorum, but nevertheless Astrid appreciated its rugged nature.

Strange still had not acknowledged her presence. Under any other circumstance Astrid would have thought this rude, but she was here, in his house, thus she had to play by his rules. Astrid waited a respectful distance away, studying the man whose interest lay only in the many parchments set before him. She took note of his dramatic change of apparel, quite different from that of the dark suit he'd worn only the evening before. Tonight he looked comfortably at ease in black pants, a red vest with gold trim, and a white shirt underneath. Over the vesture he wore a deep red overcoat, which almost looked like a knee-length trench-coat , except the cut and style were more elegant. The cloth was rich and supple, made of a fabric that Astrid was unfamiliar with. He looks good in red, Astrid thought at random. She banished the thought with a scornful eyeroll.

Astrid walked the rest of the way to the mahogany table. When she reached it Astrid saw that the papers on the desk were actually maps. Upon closer inspection it revealed that they were in fact detailed maps of the separate boroughs of New York and Manhatten. Strange slid one of the maps to the right, and flicked his wrist slightly to adjust the angle of the map. Astrid circled the desk, coming around to his end. She tilted her head to the side to try and see what he was seeing.

"Uh, Stranger? Your map of New York is sorta botched." She laughed, reaching over and adjusting the Bronx and Queens maps. "When's the last time you've had a look at New York? Cuz last time I checked Upside was not in the Bronx. And 34th intersects Rockwell, not runs straight through it." Astrid crossed her arms and leaned back, a smirk blooming on her face.

Strange studied the layout of the maps, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. He shrugged and rested his hand on the table again. "Well, I was never really good with maps anyways. Thanks," He glanced at her, giving her a smirk.

Astrid shrugged carelessly. "You looked like you needed the help." She glanced again at the array of maps, all of them exactly placed just so, like a puzzle, to show the entirety of the city. Astrid felt herself relaxing, all of her earlier hesitation melting away like water vapor. She could handle this. She wore confidence like armor. Be wise as a serpent, gentle as a dove. She'd have to be confident, and wise, if she was going to be working alongside this man.

Strange picked up a small earthenware bowl that was filled with reddish grains of sand. Astrid watched in silence as he took up a small fistful of the sand and allowed the dregs to slip through his fingers. What remained he cupped in his fist, then held it to his lips and murmured an unintelligible phrase. Astrid observed all this intently, not letting a single detail escape her. Sure, she had no flippin' idea what he was doing but it was intriguing all the same. As she watched, a faint golden light began glowing from within his clenched fist. The glow grew brighter and more alluring. Astrid realised with a jolt that the sand itself was glowing. Without warning Strange threw the sand out in an arc, which fell and landed on the map in a glowing red streak. Strange then uttered a word and made a sweeping motion with his hand. The glowing particles fanned out across the table, covering the maps in its eerie iridescent glow.

"What are you doing?" Astrid breathed, eyes wide as saucers. If there was such a thing as magic, then this was certainly it. The sand particles settled into place. The whole desk was alight with a soft fiery glow.

"I'm searching," he replied vaguely, voice sounding distant and thoughtful.

Astrid glanced at him sharply. "Stranger, I'm gonna need more than that."

A faint smile touched his lips at the nickname she'd given him. Heaving a sigh the man straightened, his grey eyes finally meeting hers. "Over the past month I have been diligently searching for the Druids. Or, more importantly, I've been delving into their motives. Why, why? Now that is the question." He paused, presumably to see if Astrid had any questions. When she didn't say anything he continued. "The ritual they performed was one meant to conjure up a demon, one in particular. The spell they used implies the Druids' specifics."

For some reason, it didn't seem that far-fetched that a group of people were out there trying to summon demons. Cults, witches, and voodoo doctors had done that sort of thing for ages. True, in modern-day America that would be outdated and considered a step backwards, and was mostly unheard of, but there were plenty of crazies out there who would try anything for a bit of fame or fortune. Or revenge. The cold word sent a nervous shiver down her spine.

"So who'd they want? I mean, um, which demon?" Never in her life had Astrid imagined she'd ever carry on such a strange conversation. And yet here she was, doing exactly that.

"I don't know yet," Strange admitted reluctantly. "When I first arrived at the scene I assumed that it was an ordinary demonic ritual they were performing."

Astrid raised an eyebrow when he said ordinary. There was nothing ordinary about this but she refrained from saying so. Strange gave her a look that said 'Trust me I know what I'm talking about.'

"You'd be surprised how many teenagers, religious groups, and even celebrities I've caught, all trying to summon a spirit to their aid. Every last one of them confused and misguided. Quite sadly mistaken about exactly what it was they were getting themselves into."

"Hmm, that sounds depressing. In a creepy sort of way," Astrid muttered. "So you said that these people, these Druids, weren't summoning just any demon, right? But you got there too soon to find out which demon it is they're after."

Strange nodded, swiping a hand through his dark hair. "Unfortunately, yes. If I had waited a moment longer then my task would be that much simpler."

A moment of still silence stretched between them.

"So why is it taking you so long to find them?" Astrid quipped, leaning against the table and planting a hand on her hip.

Strange's mouth twitched in a half-smile. "The answer to that is very simple. They're hiding, perhaps using my own magic against me to cloak themselves." Red-gold sand occasionally eddied about on the map, as though driven by an unseen wind.

"How so?" Astrid leaned over the table to better examine the intricate patterns made by the glowing element.

"The cult leader is a very powerful magician, though his abilities do not all stem from pure sources. He also has 12 followers which gives us the significant number 13. He has a coven of his own, and demonic aid. Not a good mixture. He's been very careful in covering his tracks over the past month, lying low and using almost no mystical energy to speak of. At least that I've been able to detect."

"Which means...?"

"Which means I can't trace the cult's energy signatures."

Astrid thought this over, and in its own bizarre way Astrid had to agree that it made sense. If magic was real, and she was starting to think that it was, then it would have to emit its own kind of energy. Maybe sorcerers could detect that energy. That's what Strange made it sound like anyways. Comparing magic to things such as energy or particulate matter helped Astrid get a better grip on it.

"What if..." Astrid spoke slowly, testing the words in her head. She was thinking of when aliens had appeared in the skies above New York, a couple years back, and how they'd used a portal to travel between worlds. "What if the Druids were, I don't know, performing spells or rites in another dimension? They go from one place to the next until they know you can't find them. Like hide and seek?"

"You're quick," Strange smiled, pleased with her progress.

Astrid felt a twinge of pride for having come to the conclusion she had. Maybe she wasn't so inept at understanding magic as she'd thought she was.

"I agree with you," Strange continued. "Where they're operating, if they're doing anything at all, is beyond my current sphere of influence. You see, not all planes of existence are easily trekked or can be mapped out. For example, the Astral Planes. They exist as a sort of mirror world to our own, comprised solely of spiritual energy and matter. Since it does not possess any physical qualities, it is impossible for it to be bound by the laws of gravity or physics." He paused. "Or logic," he added pensively.

"I get it. If the Druids are hiding elsewhere you obviously can't go around searching every nook and cranny for them. That would take too long. So it makes things easier to have a map." Astrid glanced again at the luminescent map spread before her. What was his plan? "But since these "Planes" defy all natural laws, they can't be mapped out," Astrid summed up.

She knew he had something planned, or else what would be the point of telling her he knew where he could find them, but then he couldn't find them? No, she knew better than to think that. She was just waiting for him to share his backup plan with her.

"No, they can't. There are loopholes, however. The Sands of Ithmari'l, woven with elements of Fire and Spirit, serve as one such loophole."

Astrid raised an eyebrow dubiously. "What do they do?" She watched the glowing ember-like grains of sand, all scattered about the map, then turned back to face the relatively cool gaze of Dr. Strange.

He took his time in answering, gaze lowered pensively as he mulled over his words. The glowing embers of sand cast a strange light behind his eyes, as though they were lit by a fire of their own. Astrid's heart started beating faster. She felt a familiar tug of attraction.

Quickly jerking her gaze away Astrid cursed herself for being so easily distracted. She was here for answers and that was all. He was a man, nothing more. True, he was a sorcerer, or so she'd been told, and who knew what other secrets he possessed. But why should it matter?

"You see this map that I've laid out?" Strange gestured at the patchwork surface of the desk. "Before, it was just an ordinary collection of maps. Now, with the mystic Sands, I can detect mystical energies in the Astral Planes, as well as many other dimensions. The Sands tie into all planes surrounding New York, hence the map. They act as a window, albeit a very small one."

Astrid made a noncommittal noise at the back of her throat. She placed her hands flat on the table, leaned over and studied the intricate lines and curves that made up her city. The sand felt cool and grainy beneath her skin. Not warm, as she'd expected.

"I can't see much from here, other than a weird glowing map," she said drily. She refused to look at him. "I guess what you're trying to say is that the Sands are tied to this "Mystic Realm" of yours," she made quote marks with her hands. "So if something happens then the Sands will alert you, right? Or am I just completely bonkers?" She finally turned her head to look directly at the man.

Strange looked as though he'd seen a ghost. His gaze was locked on Astrid's hands. Or her bandages. Astrid couldn't be sure which. Astrid felt self-conscious under such scrutiny.

"Stranger?" she asked tentatively, moving her hands behind her back and out of sight.

He shook his head, the panicked emotion disappearing as the veil slid over his features once again. Strange met her gaze with hooded eyes.

"Sorry. Bad memories," he said by way of explanation. Strange came around the corner of the table to stand in front of her. He inclined his head towards her, his brows furrowing slightly. "What happened to your hands?"

If Astrid didn't know better, she'd say he was worried about her. Good thing she knew better.

"It's... just a scrape really," she shrugged. "I knocked into something and it rubbed me the wrong way. But I'm fine," she lied.

Guys didn't care about her, didn't worry about her. Especially guys who knew next to nothing about Astrid Blake. The sooner Strange got that it didn't matter, the sooner they could get back to business. He was just being polite. Or possibly trying to avoid something... Bad memories, he'd said.

Strange's gaze hardened. "Sit down," he ordered. Before Astrid was fully aware of what was happening she found herself seated in one of the lush armchairs that was placed before the fireplace. She rested her hands meekly in her lap. Strange took the stool and sat in front of her.

"Let me see your hands."

Heat rushed to Astrid's cheeks. For some reason she was embarrassed, and completely flabbergasted, at all this attention over her hands. "Really, they're fine. There's no need to freak out or anything." Or care, she added silently. Astrid held her hands closer to her body, as though guarding her twisted secrets.

Strange held out his hand, palm up, almost in invitation. His steely gaze brooked no arguments. Astrid hesitantly placed her hand in his, the gentle curve of her hand fitting easily into the hollow of his palm.

"I won't ask you again what caused this," he said as he unwrapped the cloth from around her palm. "Since you clearly do not wish to share."

Unspoken words hung in the air between them, words that hummed and buzzed like bees about Astrid's head. I know that you lied, she saw clearly etched in his gaze. She shifted uncomfortably. Lying to him implied that she didn't trust him. Which maybe she didn't. Astrid pursed her lips and refused to say anymore.

Strange finished unwrapping the bandage, then tossed the ruined cloth into the fire. Sparks shot up and engulfed the cloth. Nothing but a memory was now left of it.

Stephen turned her hand in the light, inspecting the self-inflicted wounds. The bruises throbbed. Her skin stung in the open air. His fingertips hovered over her broken skin, as though he wanted to but he didn't dare make contact. Astrid tensed. She could almost feel an electric charge pass between them.

"This could get infected if left untreated," he murmured.

"What are you going to do?" Astrid asked.

Strange looked at her, raising his brows as if to say 'What do you think I'm doing?'. Then he cupped her hand within his own. Astrid felt warmth wash over her wounds, warmth and dampness. Beads of condensation formed at the base of her knuckles, mixing with the dried blood and washing it away. The open welts on her knuckles now stood out raw and angry against the blue backdrop of bruises. Slowly the condensation dispersed. Next, she felt a stinging, itching sensation. Before her very eyes the skin reformed and healed over her split knuckles. Strange then placed his other hand atop hers. Astrid felt a rush of heat flow between their hands. When he removed his palm she saw the bruises were gone, as though they had never been.

Then he took Astrid's other hand and repeated the process. In a matter of seconds both her hands were healed. Stephen held her gaze, grey eyes searching hers thoughtfully. Her hands still rested within his, forgotten momentarily.

"How did you do that? Was that magic? You just used magic to heal me?" Astrid slid her hands from his. Immediately she missed the warmth they had provided. She held her left hand up, flexing it. She clenched and unclenched her fist. There was no pain whatsoever.

Strange tilted his head to gaze into the fire, clasping his hands on his knees in front of him.

"I merely encouraged what was already going to happen," he said quietly, voice distant. "I used water molecules from the air to moisten the wounds, then in combination with the atoms that make up your skin I hastened the healing processes."

Astrid's cheeks tinged pink. She glanced away, whispering, "Thank you." She felt like she should say something more, something to make up for lying to him earlier. "I'm sorry, for... for rebuffing you like that. It's not anything to do with you, it's just," she sighed heavily. "I have issues."

Astrid cupped her hands in front of her, watching the firelight cast dancing shadows on her pale skin. She looked up to see Strange watching her curiously. Astrid had to look away again, unable to keep eye contact with that intense gaze.

"So, help me out here, 'cuz I've been having trouble figuring you out," Astrid smirked. She hid behind the armor of nonchalance, affecting an easy carefree smart-alec attitude to hide her true emotions. Which were all a helter-skelter at the moment. "When I got here your... friend out there said some things that sparked my interest. You're a sorcerer, is that correct?"

Strange nodded, but did not elaborate.

"And what you just did, with my hands... That was magic?"

"Yes?" Strange said in what sounded like an exasperated question. Astrid was pretty sure that at the moment they both had the same flabbergasted expression on their faces. Both looking at the other as though they'd gone completely bonkers.

"Hmm. Interesting," Astrid muttered, leaning back in her seat. She watched him with narrowed eyes. "Is it common for you to go around healing people? Are you a healer too?" She raised an eyebrow.

Strange was quiet for a moment. He appeared pensive.

"I used to be," he said at last. "What I did just now, yes, is considered healing in literal terms, but in truth it was nothing more than encouraging the natural process. It is not in my profession to go around healing people, except in the most extreme cases."

Astrid mulled over his words. "What do you mean, used to be? You're a ...sorcerer... now," she admitted grudgingly. "What were you before?"

Strange smirked. "You're still uncomfortable admitting the impossible. Afraid to realise that your world isn't quite the way you thought it was. That maybe it's filled with hidden dangers such as gods and monsters... and magic," he said in tones of observation. Astrid noticed that he still hadn't answered her question.

"Yeah, so?" she frowned at him and crossed her arms, feeling her frustration rise. "You're avoiding my question," she snapped.

"I was a man," he said just as quickly. "An arrogant, selfish, foolish man." He paused, then said softly, "and I was also a doctor."

Now we're getting somewhere, Astrid thought excitedly.

"Mmhmm?" she prompted, leaning forward and resting her chin in her palm.

"I was an excellent doctor, some might say the best... Until I wasn't." He looked down at his open hands. A muscle twitched in his jaw. "There was an accident."

Astrid waited patiently. She wanted so badly to unravel this mystery of a man. He had something to do with her past, she knew he was the man from her dreams, knew he'd played a part in her life so many years ago. It was time he offered confirmation. The silence was pregnant with unasked questions.

Strange shook himself, as though rousing himself from a dream. And an unpleasant one at that.

"But that's a long boring story that will only make you feel sorry for me and make the wrong decisions in life," his mouth curved up in a half-smile. He talked as though he were reading from a script.

Astrid fought to contain her disappointment.

"I don't think it's boring," she said quietly.

Strange locked his gaze with hers again. The look in his eyes said he wasn't ready to share his past with her. Not yet.

Astrid sighed and backed down. She could understand though. They knew nothing about each other. Astrid wasn't willing to talk about her own life. So what right did she have to invade his privacy? None, that's what.

"Sorry," she bowed her head, nervously rubbing her right thumb into her left palm. She anxiously thought of a way to amend the situation.

"It's no fault of yours. You are innocent, and naïve, of the world around you. I wouldn't want to ruin that by sharing my sob story." Astrid recognized the sarcastic tone in his voice. "Besides," he said wistfully, "some things are better left forgotten."

"It's too late now. I can't forget," Astrid said as she stood up. She reached into her back pocket for her phone to check the time. "You already dragged me into this mess just by being who you are."

She checked her phone, but it was dead. Weird, she recalled having it charged before she left the apartment. She stuffed it back into her pocket with a shrug. Astrid directed her attention to Strange once again.

"If you hadn't shown up that night, I don't know where I'd be right now. And last night? I can't believe you were there at the party. I had seriously just given up hope of ever finding you, and then you show up outta the blue. Like magic." Astrid ignored the unintended pun. "There's just something about you that I can't stay away from." The words slipped out before she could stop them. Astrid quickly snapped her mouth shut before she said anything too stupid.

"I confess that I'm sorry to hear that," Stephen said honestly. He stood as well and adjusted his overcoat. His eyes swept the room before coming to rest on her. "I'll tell you honestly, it would have been better if you had never met me."

He'd just crossed a line.

Astrid narrowed her eyes. She would never understand this guy. Why couldn't he just talk to her? His rapid change of direction made their conversations unpredictable and dangerous. Like the ocean, one minute all would be peace and calm, the next it could be raging storms. Astrid could feel the tempest rising within. She clenched her fists, the knuckles whitening ever so slightly. She hated how outwardly calm he appeared. Sure, Stephen looked all calm and composed on the outside, but she could see the raging gale behind his own eyes. They were struggling, neither of them understanding how to talk or relate to the other. Who were they kidding? They were from two completely different worlds. They could never relate. There never would be understandung between them.

"I have to go," Astrid bit out. There was plenty more she wanted to say but she knew it wouldn't make a difference. She strode to the door and wrenched it open. "Wouldn't want to waste any more of your precious time," she sneered.

Words pounded in her head, the song both familiar and strange to her as she stormed out of the study and into the hallway beyond.

Here I am again talkin' to myself, sittin' at a red light...
First you wanna be free now you say you need me, can't you make signals and signs?
It's so hard to let you in, thinkin' you might slam the brakes again...

Astrid strode down the hallway. She trusted blind instinct to guide her out of this place. The melodic words continued to pound a painful rhythm at the back of her mind.

Put the pedal down, headin' out of town, gotta make a getaway... The traffic in my brain, drivin' me insane, this is more than I can take...
Gotta make a getaway... I gotta get away...

A getaway. That's what she needed right now. She needed to get away... get away... from him. She needed to go to a place where she could think. Somewhere she could sort things out without his beautiful, haunted eyes watching her, taunting her with their hidden secrets. Angering her with their mysteries.

Astrid vaguely sensed Strange at her side. She had no idea how long he'd been there at her side, silently guiding her through this twisting maze. He took her by the elbow and led her to take a right, whereas Astrid had been about to take a left. And then there was the front door. Astrid jerked her arm away. She wanted to stay angry at him. It felt good to be angry at someone. After all this time, rage felt good. It gave her direction.

Astrid's hand wrapped around the doorknob. She was fully prepared to leave without saying another word, to just leave and maybe never come back. She was just that angry. Strange prevented her from leaving just yet by planting his palm against the door and leaning his weight into it.

His eyes bored into hers, shining a burnished silver in the half-light. "I'm sorry," he whispered, gaze soft and pleading with her. Their faces were mere inches apart. Astrid felt herself melting under that gaze. She hated the weak feeling that accompanied it.

"Sorry for what?" she snapped, taking a step back and out of his reach. "For being such a disappointment? For making promises that you don't intend to keep?"

Hurt flashed in his eyes. Good, she'd found a weak spot. A chink in his armor. She crossed her arms and leaned back, eyeing him lazily. Time to twist that knife. No one messed with Astrid Blake.

"Good lookin' guy like you, I bet you get a kick out of that. Messing with poor innocent girls like me." She smirked as she watched her handiwork play out.

Strange slowly removed his hand from the door, a lost expression in his eyes like he couldn't believe what he was hearing. His hand fell uselessly to his side. He stepped back, his gaze locked on a point at his feet. He wouldn't even glance at her. His expression remained frozen, cold and stony. Astrid got the sense that if she pushed any more he might shatter. Wisdom told her to leave it be.

Maybe she'd already gone too far.

Anger flared up again. It melted away any doubts or misgivings about what she'd just done to him. So what? Strange had promised to help her, to explain things and give her answers. So far he'd only made things worse. What he needed to understand was that no one messed with Astrid Blake and got away with it.

Astrid stepped halfway outside. Her body felt caught in a state of limbo, half in, half out. She hesitated in the doorway. Frigid air came to stroke her face and hair, sending shivers down her spine. Strange hadn't said a word. He still wouldn't look at her. She felt the absence of his gaze like the absence of a warm coat in winter. A needle of regret wormed its way into her heart. Astrid stamped it down with more angry thoughts.

"Stranger," she said. He tensed, expecting another barrage of accusations. "I'll be back," she promised.

Famous last words.

Astrid shut the door behind her and descended the worn grey steps to the sidewalk, abandoning the man and his mysteries. And, though she didn't know it at the time, she also left a part of herself behind with him.