"Since he won't be with us much longer, I didn't bother."

This was madness. No wonder Ephani hadn't fought him on having Celena replaced for a week. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, the woman was insane.

"Anything else, Mom?" he asked.

"Yes. Play nice with the other kids and don't let the Daimons get the drop on you. Use the tracer so that you know where they are at all times."

Raphael couldn't get out of his house fast enough. So much for his thoughts about trying to seduce her. He'd rather face the Daimon horde blindfolded and with both hands tied behind his back.

More than that, he'd rather go babysit Jeff. If anyone had ever told him that he'd prefer the lazy, lackadaisical boy to the hot Caribbean sex goddess, he'd have laughed in their face.

Now he could appreciate Jeff's laid-back nature.

Maybe it's just a ploy of hers. . . .

He paused at that thought. Maybe she was just doing this to drive him away. It was possible.

Very possible.

Oh yeah, he was on to her now. It made total sense.

Fine then. Two could play this game.

Getting into his car, he smiled. "En garde, ma petite." They were about to go to war, and at the end of this, he was going to win.

Rafael wasn't winning his war. He was losing it miserably and not even with style. No matter what he tried, Celena circumvented his best efforts. The woman was a machine, and after forty-eight hours of having her in his house, he'd had enough.

Sitting on his couch in the basement an hour after sunset— because, quite frankly, if he went upstairs, he might kill her—he called Ephani, who answered on the third ring.

"Come get your Squire," he said without preamble.

Her tone was dry and snide. "Hi to you, too, Rafael. Nice to hear from you."