Disclaimer: I don't own anything belonging to the Harry Potter universe.

Chapter Three

The Thing

Kittie had been eight wen she had manifested her telepathic powers. She supposed, looking back, that if she had been older, things might have gone much more smoothly, but, as it happened, she hadn't been, and her naivete and youth had cost her dearly. Not that the sacrifices she had made had been a total loss. She had found solace in the new worlds, as she had taken to calling them, and she had been able to use her powers to evade difficult situations. She had discovered all manner of creatures, just as Harry had, and she had learned that one had to use all their strengths to survive. She had no superior stgrength, speed, stamina or agility to speak of, so she had taken to subterfuge, deceit, evasion.

Kittie could still remember with vivid clarity the first day she had heard another person's thoughts. She hadn't understood what was happening just then, and had responded out loud, the same way she had done countless times since, and the way she had done when she was with Harry. She could remember telling her parents. They had not been pleased. They had not been pleased one bit, and she had known it the very second the words had left her mouth, because she felt it oozing from them like a suffocating, black oil. It had stained her, that rejection, that sense of disconnection from the people she held dear. It had been a treasured secret of hers, sitting, listening in the playpark, watching the other kids, learning to understand what was really behind their masks. If they had known someone was with them in their darkest moments, she shuddered to think what they would have done in retaliation. They were all scarred people, and their scars had been transmitted to her.

She had learned things far beyond her years; the kind of things that she could write books about, though she never would. No, she had plenty of it in her thoughts, without having to share it and relive it in the open. And people would wonder where it all came from, and she would have no answers to their questions, so it seemed a bit pointless. She was alone. She was alone when she pilfered through her father's secrets; she was alone when she pilfered through her mother's. When Jessica was born, she knew why too. They wanted a normal child. It hadn't helped that, when she was eleven, she had accused them of it, and, while their faces plainly told her she was right, she saw two other things, more horrifying than anything she could have imagined. She had yelled at them, cursed at them, beat her fists in the air against them, because she wanted to punish them, but it hadn't worked. She knew that there wasn't a scintilla of remorse or guilt or grief. Just a grim satisfaction, and that had hurt. She knew then that they didn't love her; they were afraid of her, despite all her best efforts to please them, to show them she was a good girl and that she could keep her secret.

Kittie's apartment was made up of two rooms - a kitchen and a bedroom. It was modest, to say the least, but she didn't mind, because it was hers. It was a place where she could experience solitude; where her mind would be free of the clutter of other's thoughts. Where she knew that her emotions were her own. At this particular time, she needed that especially, because she found her own thoughts and emotions to be confusing enough without adding the collective memories of all the passerbys down below. From what she had glimpsed, roaming between worlds, these people all had sad tales of their own, some much sadder than her own. While that sometimes brought her comfort, to know that she was not the only one suffering, that there were people with whom she could comisserate, it did little to help her feel a connection to something beautiful. To feel the deep sense of love and belonging that she craved ever since she was eight, when that feeling had slowly begun to be robbed from her.

When she had first stumbled out of one reality and into another, she had been confused, to say the least. At first, she hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary. Certainly, it wasn't like the way it was in her current environment, with clouds and roads that flashed all different colours. She had been in a place that was a lot like her old world. Grey and sad and full of apathy. She had wandered about aimlessly, reading people's thoughts, learning how to use her skills to manipulate people into getting food. Learning who was safe to approach and who she should avoid. The rich ones, the crazy ones, the dangerous and the destitute. Before her had spread out a wealth of information, and she started to learn. But her new education had come with a price, for she had made errors along the way. She had not realized that people could delude themselves, or hide their thoughts beneath a sea of lies. And so she had been hurt.

Her first inkling that something was wrong, was when she started to read thoughts about parallel worlds. She had dismissed these things as fanciful, though, now, looking back, she could still remember the contents of their thoughts. She must have believed on some level, she decided. After all, she had irrefutable proof that her childhood education was lacking in the areas of the supernatural, given her own unique skills.

Parallel worlds, Kittie mused. She had decided after a time that the idea that they were in a parallel universe was ridiculous. Having had access to so many people's thoughts; all their intimate moments, their musings, their travels, all spread out before her to read and analyze, she was in the most favourable position to gather, compile and analyze information on the subject. She had decided that her own world was the real world and these others were just fragments bound tenuously to it. They were all smaller, after all, and some of them seemed unstable, especially in light of the flashing colours, which she supposed was not a good sign. It was something of the real world blending through; something to do with the magic fluctuating. The more colourful a place was, the more other worlds were occupying the same space. She had started to regard the worlds as being spatially similar, but being out of sync, or phase-shifted, as she had gleaned from a passing physicist. She had decided that there was something about the main world, magic, she had called it, which lent itself to creating these pockets where others could pull themselves in. One of the biggest pieces of evidence for this was that the pockets were all subject to the inanimate objects of the main world. If a building in the main world got torn down, then it would have an impact on the sub-worlds. She had also learned, though, and this made it quite complicated, that the extent of the effect of changes in the main world varied between sub-worlds, which made her think that the subworlds, varied in their degree of proximity.

Not that any of these things mattered to the inhabitants of the Red Cherry, or to her, really. It had become a pastime of hers to gaze out her window and pick the thoughts from the passerbys down below. She had selected a room high up so that their thoughts did not intrude upon her immediately or consciously. No, she had to extend her mind down to them and lift them as one might use a bucket to collect water from a stream.

It had grown very tiring, actually, to be near people, or to communicate with them at all. Invariably, they would start lying to her at some point, and it would be clear. She knew she was pretty, and the lusting that most men felt for her sickened her. It sickened her, because what she wanted was something intangible, something abstract that would make her feel close to people. But she couldn't when she knew who they were really, how petty and self-absorbed they all were. Nobody spoke to her out of genuine concern. Especially not in these other worlds, which was ironic, because it was only here that her talent/curse could be accepted. It was only here that people didn't think her a freak. Or at least, they thought her a freak, but that was okay, because they were all freaks. And that was another thing, nobody "normal" ever stumbled into the subworlds. It was a refuge for the abject, though she supposed normal people probably just didn't survive long enough for her to run across them. It was a rough place, though it was also saturated with life and energy and people interested in doing things. It was rich with diversity. People from all different places and experiences and with any kind of tale you could imagine. It was a wonderland that way.

So when Harry had described his home place as being cold, it had struck a chord with her. Not that her fascination with him had started at that point. No, she wouldn't have even asked the question, which startled her as much as it had him. "So what was it like?" she had asked. She hadn't been topside in five years, and even then only briefly. She had decided then that there was nothing left for her there, and she would not return.

When he had first walked into the pub, she had felt him. He was a mix of things that didn't seem to go together. There was an alertness, a scanning for danger that was ever present, a fatigue, a sense that he was familiar with the drill, but curious at the same time. There was a distinct lack of surprise, a resignedness, a naivete and wonder she had only ever felt with children. There was a deep cold and a sorrow and a rage, but they were dormant, ever present and lying in wait. There was a resolve, a determination like that of a soldier of war. There was a feeling of desperation, but it felt stale, as though he had worn it for a long time. There were so many things, and, usually, when someone's emotions were so turbulent, they jumbled together to form an amorphous mass that stank of putrefaction, but with Harry, the thoughts and feelings were all distinct and came together like the scent of fresh cut grass, and maybe the smell of rain or of the sea.

It had been two days since she had sobbed uncontrollably into Harry's shoulder, all the while fearing him and needing him, the comfort of his arms, the warmth of his body. He seemed so little to look at, but within there was something intense brewing, and every fibre of her being told her to go to it, to let herself get swept up in it. That was why she was at home, trying to clear her thoughts. She hadn't needed anything in a long time. She had buried her feelings of discontentment so that, after a decade, she had grown numb to the feeling of emptiness. Harry had reawakened that void, and was telling her that an opportunity stood before her to fill it. With Harry. With his electric green eyes, his black, chronically mussed hair, his lean frame.

Get a grip, she told herself sternly, an old part of her reasserting itself. He's not some knight in shining armor. Just because he can hide his thoughts doesn't make him some kind of a saint. It just means you can't see what a monster he is, which you have anyway. He murdered people. Demons, true, but sentient beings, and you know he felt little remorse for it. You felt that, and so you know.

But he wouldn't do that to me.

Oh? that nasty part of her mind inquired in mock-innocence, a part which she had named Cassandra, for no reason in particular. Maybe not now, but what about tomorrow? Or the day after? The stronger eat the weaker.

Kittie sighed.

The latch on her apartment door clicked open, and she felt a familiar tingle enter. She continued her people gazing, feeling Marv come up behind her and enfold her in his arms. "Hey," he said.

"Hey yourself," she responded.

"How are you doing?"

"I'm alive," she said resignedly.

"You're thinking about that boy?"

Kittie said nothing, and a long silence ensued.

"Come," Marv beckoned, clasping one of his hands over hers and prying it gently from her body to lead her out of the apartment. "there's something I'd like to show you."

"Aren't you supposed to be at work?" she asked.

Marv shrugged, dazzling her with his smile. "took the day off."

"You know you can't afford to."

"I'm making it up tomorrow."

They walked down the steps together in silence, Kittie noticing how light of foot Marv was and how confident and steady he seemed skipping down the rickety wooden steps. Even now, she had never quite mastered it, with some of them being of different sizes and textures. Some of them weren't even flat, and worse, they seemed to change of their own accord, guided by whatever intricate bonds attached these worlds to one another.

The street was still full of sunshine, strangers still passing, by, though the flow had died down since rush hour. A busker had set up shop, playing two instruments with his body, one with his hands and one with his feet, which seemed to be impossibly long and wiry underneath navy blue dress socks. Marv led her in the direction of the Red Cherry, but before they got there, he turned and took her across the street to an old stone building that seemed oddly grey and lifeless amidst the violent colours of the street. It was the same building that Harry had tried to enter in pursuit of the blond woman and her apparent attacker.

"I thought you were going to take me to the Red Cherry," Kittie said, stepping over the threshold of the main doors and onto a plush red carpet.

"Now why would I do that?" Marv asked.

Kittie shrugged. "Figured you thought I might need some cheering up; maybe buy me a drink."

Marv smiled mischievously. "Or maybe give you an excuse to run into your biggest fan."

Kittie did not respond, aware that Marv was fishing, and not sure what to give him. "I don't know what you mean," she said, settling on feigning innocence.

"Oh come on, it's obvious. He spends more time looking at the door to see if you're going to walk through than he does looking at the chairs he's supposed to be polishing."

"Has he been performing poorly at his job?" Kittie asked, still as innocently as she could, having schooled her features into neutrality.

"That's the funny thing," Marv mused. "I look and he ain't ever working, but then he gets it all done anyway, and in record time."

Kittie nodded. "I see."

"But then it's not really a surprise, is it?" Marv asked pointedly. "I mean, we all heard about that thing at the demon cafe. A couple of the victims were still alive long enough to identify him, before they died of whatever he did to them. One of the doctors from the homeopathic clinic says it's poison, but he can't figure out what kind. Super deadly, he said, whatever it was. And not ingested, either. Could've believed the kid to have poisoned their coffee, or tried to, but there were bite marks to. Lots of them, like fangs." Marv shivered noticeably. "Makes you wonder."

"Indeed," Kittie nodded again. "Makes you wonder."

Marv glanced at her slyly. "You wouldn't happen to be avoiding him, would you? Didn't see you around the last couple of days. Is it because of him? You know Stu wouldn't stand for that."

"Harry's nice enough," Kittie said vaguely.

They had gone down two narrow corridors, and, to Kittie's realization, they were descending ever more slowly, until they came to a set of steps. "We're going to the basement," Marv announced quietly.

"Marv, are we supposed to be here?" Kittie asked, suddenly nervous.

"I don't know," Marv replied truthfully. "But I found something, and I went to check it out, and it led me here."

"What did you find?" Kittie asked.

Marv turned to her, his expression one so intense that Kittie flinched. There was something red in those eyes. a glint of some kind of superior intelligence at work. "Blood," he said, and then turned and went through the doorway.

Blood, she thought, and then picked from his thoughts, the phrase, Blood trailing all the way from the outside in here and down this way. And not just blood, but some sort of silvery liquid.

Suddenly, Kittie was very nervous. She kept her mental probes alert at all times, feeling for the arrival of any sentient beings that could come from any directions. She trusted Marv implicitly, because he had been at the Red Cherry for years, and because he was friends with Stu and Jack. More importantly, she trusted him, because he had always had nice thoughts about her; thoughts that were devoid of sexual content except perhaps for some appraisals of her figure, which she didn't mind, because they were always clinical and detached, the way someone thought a sunrise was beautiful. She had learned long ago to tune his thoughts and feelings out. Though they radiated from him as normally as they did from anyone else, his were so incredibly banal that she found it easy not to think about what he was thinking.

The stairwway was lit by incandescents that flickered ominously, emitting a pale yellow that turned the fingerprint smudges and chipped areas of the walls into a sickly-looking picture of decay.

The stairwell ended in a door marked with a big sign that read: STAFF ONLY. Kittie couldn't remember seeing any indications of a business operation in the building before, though it seemed as though they had walked through most of it. There hadn't even been offices or a space large enough to hold an office, let alone employees to populate it. Marv pushed on ahead, saying in a hushed whisper. "I wouldn't have even bothered except that I saw Harry looking quizzically at this building for some time yesterday, while he was supposed to be wiping the glasses down. And that made me look at it for the first time. Funny, I never really noticed the building from the outside. It's like it was never really there, but it's so different from all the others. It doesn't flash colours, and it's unmarked. And then when I got close to it, I could see only darkness inside through the windows, which appeared cracked from the outside. Did you notice they don't appear cracked from the inside?" he asked, and then continued without pause. "And I saw that blood and I just knew I had to investigate. It's like it was asking me to."

"You said Harry was looking at it?"

Marv nodded, though now they were surrounded in darkness, save for light from the stairwell spilling in through the doorway in a shaft that barely reached their faces. Kittie imagined they were in another hallway. She could feel the claustrophobia she usually got from walls that were too close. Somewhere in the dark there was the muffled hiss of escaping gas, which was punctuated by a low, equally-muffled thumping sound, like a badger thwacking its tail against smooth concrete.

They reached a doorway. Kittie could tell because light faintly pulsed from beyond, illuminating the edges, save for the two spots where the hinges were placed.

"We're here," Marv whispered.

Kittie couldn't see either of them, but she was fairly certain by the timbre of his voice that he was as pale as she felt. "I'm ready," she whispered back, feeling that she wasn't ready at all. How had this happened? She suddenly wished Harry were with them.

Marv opened the door and they entered a circular stone chamber with small torches appended to the walls at eight different points. Each torch was lit and emitting green fire, which was spooky enough. What was worse was that the stone walls were jagged, as if the chamber were naturally made and the building had simply been built on top of it, which would have been okay, except that the rough walls were tinged with that eerie silver colour that Kittie guessed had accompanied the trail of blood. One look at Marv confirmed her suspicions.

Even worse than all of that was what lay at the centre of the room. The chamber was about ten metres in diameter with a two metre wide path carved around the edge. At the center was a six metre wide circular hole, within which a wine-red liquid roiled about, bubbles bursting intermittently, spraying the floor. The liquid looked warm, possibly boiling even, though Kittie couldn't tell. Certainly she could feel warmth wafting up from it, filling the room with asuffocating humidity, like what she might expect an incubation chamber to feel like. What was odd about the turbulence in the liquid was that it was uneven, as if things were moving about down below, causing the currents to shift according to their irrecular movements. Sentient things, like fish.

"That's blood," isn't it, Kittie said suddenly, pointing to the liquid.

"I don't know," Marv replied, mesmerized by the sight.

Kittie could say no more. She didn't even know what she was looking at, except that it seemed horrid, whatever it was. And that's when she decided to reach her mind down to the liquid, to see if there truly were beings down below. Even if they weren't as cerebral as humans, they would still be cognizable as series of jumbled emotions and momentary comprehensions of their environment.

What she opened up her mind to was not something she could describe, in part because it did not lend itself to words, and in part because it overwhelmed her in that same suffocating way that the chamber overwhelmed her normal senses. Kittie's eyes widened as her internal alarm senses went off and she tried to shut down the link. Doing so, however, proved to be difficult. She felt attached to the things down there, as though they had gripped back hungrily, paralyzing her mental motor control functions the way exposure to electricity paralyzes the nervous system.

Whatever was down in the pool of red liquid, it was neither human nor animal - at least not in the way that Kittie had come to associate with the two. It had the singular focus that animals tended to have, though, while animals tended to have thoughts only regarding its immediate surroundings, the things down there seemed to drift to one thing and one thing alone. Visions of gruesome carnage, of death, of mutilated human torsos flickered through the minds of the creatures that were down below. Alongside the constant rhythm of malevolence was also a malicious glee. They're fantasizing about maiming humans, Kittie realized. She wondered if they were asleep, but even as she thought it, she knew they were. There was something relaxed about their posture that made her think they were dormant. Kittie tried to pull her mind away gently but firmly, but it seemed like her mental responses were completely locked. She couldn't understand why, unless... Unless they're telepaths too, Cassandra said. Ooh, little Kittie's gotten herself into a spot of trouble, hasn't she? Cassandra crowed with delight.

Shut up," Kittie thought irritably. "It's your mind too, you know.

All of a sudden, Kittie felt herself flung back to her body, where, when she looked up, realized that Marv was gazing down at her with an expression of concern on his face. "Kittie?" he asked softly. Kittie was aware that she was in his arms, probably because the link must have drained her of much of her physical energy.

Don't think about that now, she admonished herself. She had been thrown back from that horrible place, and there had been a reason for it. Yes, she thought, thinking back to her last moment with the link. There had been a distinct thought the creatures were having. What was it?

Kittie's eyes widened suddenly in comprehension, and she clutched at Marv's body for support. That feeling they had was so familiar, and she understood what it was. Recognition. "Marv," she whispered urgently. "They know we're here!"

This phrase, however, did not instil in Marv the same level of panic that Kittie felt. In fact, he looked downright confused. Kittie glanced out the corner of her eye and saw that the turbulence in the pool had increased and was continuing to do so at an alarming rate. Marv's eyes followed hers, and she saw that he understood at once what she had meant.

"You mean there's something down there and it knows we're up here," Marv said with realization. And then, still processing, he asked. "Is it - are they... dangerous?"

Kittie nodded, her gaze flitting between Marv and the pool. They both proceeded to back up against the wall and edge toward the doorway. Blood was sloshing around on the floor rather readily. In fact, to Kittie's horror, the blood level was rising so that it was now pooling at their feet. Kittie heard Marv fiddle with the door-lock, aware from the amount of fumbling he was doing just how nervous he was. He managed to get it open, and they both pushed their way through. As they closed the door behind them, Kittie caught a last glimpse of the pool. One claw-like extremity had thrown itself over the edge, as if whatever it was that was down there was pulling itself up by its arms. Only its arm, Kittie thought, looked less like a human arm and more like a large piece of ginger beef that had been lathered in sweet and sour sauce.

The door swung shut, leaving Marv and Kittie in relative darkness. They held each other for a moment, relishing the quietude. Then, aware suddenly that the danger may not be over, they both burst into a sprint down the hall, crossing the doorway and throwing themselves up the stairwell.

"Wait!" Kittie hissed, grabbing Marv's arm and keeping him from running through the next doorway and into the hall. Marv stopped and looked at her intently.

"There's people on the other side of the door."

Marv glanced from Kittie to the doorway, unsure of where to take them.

"They're coming closer," Kittie hissed, and then pulled on Marv's arm, taking him up another flight of stairs. Just as they reached the second floor, they heard people come through the door below. It was two men, and they were talking in normal tones.

"Listen, Roger," said the first man impatiently, "I don't want to hear all this nonsense. Tell me, did it work or didn't it?"

"It's not that simple, Trent," Roger responded. "Things have changed. Certainly it's not what we expected, but it has values elsewhere."

"I believe it's my responsibility to be the judge of that, Roger," Trent said in an irritated tone. "You just show me what we have, and I'll make the decisions about where it goes."

The two men descended the stairwell and disappeared through the bottom door.

"They're going to go see that thing," Kittie said softly.

"I know," Marv agreed.

"What if they don't know that it's climbed out?"

"Listen, Kittie. We don't know if it's climbed out either. It may have gone back inside."

"Don't you think we should warn them?"

Marv, sighed, and closed his eyes. Finally, after a long pause, he said, "I don't want to go back there. I'm sorry I came at all."

Kittie nodded, appreciating his candor. "Maybe we should just make a ruckus and let them know they're not alone. Then they can decide for themselves."

Marv considered it and then nodded. "Okay. I'll go."

"We'll go together," Kittie said. "I can read their thoughts."

The two went downstairs and crept closer to the door. He looked questioningly at Kittie.

"I don't feel anything," she whispered.

Marv opened the door and they peered down the dark hallway. "Oy!" Marv shouted.

There was no response.

Kittie gasped, attracting Marv's attention.

"Kittie?"

"Oh, God," she moaned. "It's... it's so happy." Kittie was not aware that Marv was incredibly confused by this statement, because she felt so horrible for having awoken it in the first place. She knew from having been in its thoughts that it could only be that happy if it had found human meat to prey upon. No, it found live human meat, she thought grimly. It was important that they were alive.

They both then heard a loud thump from the door on the other side. It echoed hollowly through the corridor, sending shivers down Kittie's spine. "Let's get out of here," Marv said grimly. When they were halfway up the stairs, they heard the door on the far side of the corridor give way in a loud crash down below. Kittie and Marv exchanged a look of horror and then hurried away.

The sun had reached its zenith by the time they made it outside. A couple were strolling along, hand in hand, smiling and laughing, not having a care in the world. One of them was in a pinstripe suit and the other in a frock. Kittie imagined they had a life together, that they had always been happy, and that each day they had together was better than the one before, as they moved steadily closer to all their dreams and hopes. Kittie picked a thought from their minds, out of curiosity. It was a mundane one. Apparently they were on their lunch break.

"Kittie?" Marv asked.

"Hmm?" Kittie responded.

"I'm sorry."

Kittie did not respond, because she did not know how to. She was sorry too, but she wasn't sure for what. People died all the time in the outworlds. Harry had killed half a dozen or so the other day, and he wasn't the first. It was a place of apparent lawlessness to the casual onlooker. Especially an onlooker from the real world. Kittie and its inhabitants knew better though. There were more rules here than where she had come from. Harry would have been pushed around from place to place, and probably killed if he hadn't stood up for himself. Now people were afraid of him, and rightly so. He claimed a bit of power and authority by killing those demons. He gained respect. That was one of the first laws in the outworlds. Power equalled authority. But I'm still sorry, she thought. I never wanted to be one of those murderers.

"Are you okay?" Marv was asking tentatively. He put an arm on her shoulder and she felt his concern radiate through her like a pulse.

"I'm fine. Just a bit hungry."

"Would you like to pop in at the Red Cherry for a bite with me?"

"Kittie smiled. 'I thought you would have eaten there often enough. Let's maybe go elsewhere."

"He shrugged. "it's just that I get a good deal there. Things're pretty expensive 'round here. And I'm not anything big. You know they push me around at the demon clubs and other places."

"There's a regular lunch place a couple blocks down and behind the main road on Allister Alley. I'll take you there. It'll even be my treat."

"No, I should do the honours. It was my screwup."

"Don't say that," Kittie admonished. "I woke it up." She let that sentiment hang in the air as they went for lunch.

Creepers was an inconspicuous place all around. It survived the dangers of the outworlds by keping a low profile. It was located behind the main street, served inconspicuous food, mostly vegetarian, at moderate prices. There was nothing unique about its design or layout, or the people who ran it or worked at the counters. Kittie ordered a quiche and salad and Marv ordered soupe and a vegetable sandwich. They took seats at a small table at the far end, which was not readily visible to most people in the cafe.

"So what do you suppose it was?" Marv asked.

Kittie shook her head. She had told Marv what her mind-link had shown her, and he was as baffled as she was. "You know that just about anything is possible around here," she said finally. "I imagine it's just another freak around these parts."

"But it's a violent one. And strong too," Marv said, voicing her concerns as well.

Kittie did not have an answer. "Yes, well, if it gets enough people angry, they'll retaliate and I'm sure we can take care of it. Maybe it'll just go back into its hole and not come out."

Marv nodded thoughtfully. 'have you thought about what those men said?"

Kittie had been trying not to. "No."

"It sounds like they knew about it and were expecting something. Only they found something else. It makes you wonder."

"Wonder what?" Kittie asked.

"They didn't run across it by surprise."

"you mean maybe they made it?"

"Or brought it here," Marv said. "I don't know much about these portals, but maybe that thing down there is another one."

"Yeah," Kittie said. "I don't know, but I'd like to stay aways away from that place. It knew I was in its head, and that frightens me more than anything."

Marv nodded. "Okay. We can talk about something else."

"yes, please," Kittie said, sighing.

Marv adopted that mischievous glint in his eyes yet again. "Let's talk about Harry."

Kittie threw up her arms in exasperation. "Oh no! Please, let's not."

"You like him," Marv said knowingly, his scrutinizing gaze fixed on her.

Kittie sighed again and said nothing.

"I don't have to be a telepath, you know. Why are you so reluctant to admit it?"

"I don't know," she said ruefully. "I just... I just don't think I need this right now."

"He doesn't like me," Marv commented.

Kittie's head shot up and fixed a stern glare on Marv. "Did he say that to you?"

Marv shook his head. "Again, I don't have to be a telepath. I can just tell he's wary around me."

Kittie slumped her shoulders. "I don't understand why. I asked, and he said you remind him of someone. I could understand that when he met you the first time, but it seems a bit silly."

"you think he's jealous?"

"He says he's not."

Marv considered this for a time, so they sat in silence, eating their respective meals. Then he brightened up and said, "Well, why don't we all go out together. Maybe I'll ask Lizzie from the Candle shop. I think she's been eyeing me. We can do a double-date."

Kittie raised an eyebrow. "Are you serious?"

Marv nodded. "Maybe then we can settle it all in the open. You know, over dinner."

"I don't know...," Kittie began, still trying to process the idea. She had never been on a date before and certainly not a double-date. "Won't he want our first date to be a solo affair?"

Marv shook his head. Double-dates are common for first-timers. It helps you to relax knowing that your friends are about. Kind of like moral support and coaches all wrapped up into one."

"What if he doesn't agree?"

"You do like him!" Marv exclaimed. "A lot!"

"I do not!"

"Do too!"

"Do not!"

"Do too!"

"Ooh, men!" Kittie said. "you're all impossible!"

Marv's smile broadened further. "So it's settled. I'll ask Lizzie out after lunch and you ask Harry at the same time. They've got him cleaning stuff during the day and doing kitchen work at night. He's lean and able though, so Stu wants him doing serving work soon. Maybe after the demons stop grumbling in the background. Stu doesn't want trouble from them, especially after Harry's gone."

"has that caused the Red Cherry some problems?" Kittie asked.

Marv shook his head. "Stu's pretty smart. No one's upset with him for hiring Harry in the first place. He did that before harry went on a rampage. Demons have enough sense to know that Harry's a business venture to Stu, and nothing more. As long as Stue keeps some distance between himself and Harry. As long as he doesn't go out on a limb for the kid, the demons won't hold it against the establishment. As for others, well, the demons were never that popular to begin with. They can be a bit of a rowdy, selfcentered bunch, which is what got them in trouble in the first place. Most people know that. Harry's probably made some silent allies, if he plays his cards right. After all, the demons have made their share of enemies in the past."

"Will he?" Kittie asked. "Play his cards right, I mean."

"Dunno. Probably not. He doesn't look like the sly type. All braun and no brains, if you ask me. But then again, I'm not exactly his confidant."

Kittie nodded. "Yeah, well, if he had been smart, he would have asked what places were safe, instead of wandering aimlessly into any old place."

"And how shrewd were you when you got here?" Marv asked coyly.

"That's different. I was thirteen. And I didn't have the finessed control over my powers that I do now."

Marv put his hands up in supplication. "Just pointing out that you can't expect everyone to be distrustful and suspicious of everything."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it. He had already been chased by vampires and nearly killed by Jack. He should have known to take it easy and let someone guide him about."

"A guide, eh? Maybe you were hoping he would see if you were up to the task?" Marv dodged a playful punch and downed the last of his soup. He stood and said, "Come on, let's go see about a boy."