Asher was weak, and in that state, he didn't have the capacity to feel fear.  Not the raw adrenaline rush, not the panic that should have spiked his pulse, disorienting him to the finer details of his surroundings.  He felt the echoes.  Felt his heart stumble painfully, the peculiar sensation of a gasp caught in his chest, but his perception stayed sharp, his thoughts perfectly clear.  The air changed in the house.  It was subtle, like a storm gathering on the horizon.<br/><br/>In that moment, he knew that Nathaniel hadn't walked through the front door.  He was a talented man, but a man all the same.  The hair on the back of Asher's neck raised.  He knew what it was, what could arrive with such a presence.  It made him no more wary, and it made him no less.<br/><br/>The door slammed shut and he reacted on instinct, retreating until his back pressed firmly against the wall.  He thought about hiding.  He weighed his options, and then weighed them again.  Listening closely, he could hear the intruder walking around downstairs.  Light footsteps.  Not as quiet as his, but he was actively trying to conceal his presence.  By the time he made it down the stairs, the main hall stood empty.  Again, he weighed his options.  He could likely make it outside and, if he was lucky, he could break into the car and find his way to town and then ...<br/><br/>He didn't venture onward with the thought.  Instead, he used the banister as support as he sank down to sit on the stairs, waiting patiently for the intruder to return.  When she did, he locked his gaze on her.  His stillness was that of a predator, a wolf dressed like a man.  "Who are you?" he asked her, as though he had the right to make such an inquiry.  His voice was as worn out as he felt, hoarse and heavy in his throat.  "What happened to Nathaniel?"