“Oh, cool, you found my backpack,” Wade said cheerfully, the last hint of red scales fading into his skin. Spencer spared the naked teenager—no, that wasn’t right; Wade was finally old enough to drink—a single glance before returning his attention to the task at hand. By the time the demon was on its way back to hell, Wade had gotten dressed in spare clothes quickly getting damp from the rain but was still barefoot, backpack slung over one shoulder. He grinned toothily at Spencer and offered a cheeky wave. “What are you doing here?” Spencer asked. “Patrick said you got attacked by hunters, and
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