Page 41 of Devil Inside

Lilith.It has to be her. She’s wearing the same jean jacket. The pins running up the length of her lapels are the same. It’s her. There’s no one else she could be.

“No way,” I say. “Nofuckingway.”

“What?” Deak asks, glancing over his shoulder. “What is it?”

“It’s her.”

“Who?”

“Her.”

She’s sitting at a booth in the far back of the restaurant with a few other friends, lost in conversation. I spot her bob, and I’m convinced it’s her.

Please tell me this isn’t another hallucination. Please tell me this is real.

There are too many bodies between us. I see her for a split second, only for Lilith to get eclipsed by the crowd. People block my line of sight. She’s there and gone.

Maybe she’s not there at all. Maybe I just imagined her—

No. She’s real. She has to be. I’m not losing her again.

I get up from the table without saying anything. “Where you going?” Deak asks, but I’m not paying attention. Not anymore. I have to reach her before she disappears on me. It’s not entirelyout of the realm of possibility that she’ll vanish into thin air—poof, up in smoke, just like that—if I don’t touch her. Make sure she’s real. Flesh and blood.

She’s not some ghost. Not some hallucination. She’s real. Has to be real.

Let’s go and see.

I plow through the crowd. I’m forcing my way through the tangle of limbs. I can feel my pulse pick up the closer I get, my heart kick-drumming against the inside of my chest.

I’m doing a piss-poor job at steadying my breath. It takes every ounce of my strength just to keep my equilibrium, keep from collapsing, as if I’m growing weaker the nearer I get.

What am I going to do when I reach her? What am I going to say?

Remember me?

When I finally make it to her booth, she doesn’t notice me standing before her table. Her friends actually clock my presence before she does. Wary eyes all around.

I even clear my throat.

When Lilith finally glances up at me, it’s the strangest sensation. There’s no familiarity there. No acknowledgment of recognition.

Those aren’t her eyes, I think.

They look completely...different. They’re the same color, from what I can remember, but it’s as if the texture within them has changed—or been rearranged. They don’t hold the same stare as before. They don’t pierce me the way they did the last time I dove in.

It’s not her,the faintest voice at the back of my mind says.

How’s that even possible? It’s got to be her. Look. Justlook. Who else can she be?

Her attitude’s definitely not helping. Lilith is playing it off like she has absolutely zero idea who the hell I am.

“Funny bumping into you here,” I say. Christ, I’m offering up every cliché I can.

Lilith sure does look at me funny. Like she doesn’t recognize me. At all. Not exactly the reaction I was expecting. Truth told, I was hoping she might be excited. Happy, even.

Not this. Whateverthisis.

“...I’m sorry?” she asks. Very formal. A wall of decorum. Crossed wires, all disconnected. Underneath it all, though, is that tension that comes from a stranger entering a woman’s personal space. She’s got her guard up. I could be dangerous.