Prologue

Tristan Davis stared down at the single name on the piece of paper he held and told himself to count to ten before he spoke.

With Voice remarkably steady, he said, "Isabelle Barrett wasn't on the list that I have gave you."

Steven Spencer, the producer of Project Demon Hunters, shrugged his shoulders looking completely unconcerned. "She should have been on the list. I just Don't understand why you left her off. She had done Master's in psychology along with post-grad work with 'The Rhine Institute'. She's the best choice when it comes to parapsychology." (Wearing a knowing grin, he added) , "Besides, she's a hell of a lot more photogenic than any of the girl's that you have suggested."

Unfortunately, Tristan couldn't really argue with any of those completely valid points. He'd had his own reasons for keeping Isabelle Barrett off the short list of potential co-hosts for the show he and Steven had been pitching to various cable networks, reasons that he needed to conceal even from his producer. When Steven messaged him earlier in the day to tell him that they'd been given the green light by a travel cable network, Tristan had already guessed that there had to be some catch. And now it sounded as though Isabelle Barrett was that catch.

"She doesn't have any experience actually working out in the field," Tristan said, still doing his best to sound calm and unruffled. Inwardly, though, he could feel himself already tensing up thinking that what would happen If he ended up being forced into this….

"What 'field'?" Steven scoffed. Even after more than a decade in Los Angeles, his Manchester accent was decidedly obvious — probably an affectation more than anything else at this point. He always looked slightly rumpled, fair hair untidy, skin too pale for your usual Angeleno. "Wandering around in old houses with those little ghost-detecting machine's ?"

"EMF meters," Tristan said, an automatic response. "There's a bit more to paranormal investigations than merely wandering around old houses, you know."

"If you say so, " Steven replied.

There wasn't much point in pressing the issue, because Tristan knew Steven was in this simply to cash in on the current craze for ghost-hunting shows. They'd come up with a slightly different angle, one that promised plenty of jump scares to keep the audience on their toes, and the cable network was interested enough to offer them a limited six-show series to start airing this coming October. Because really, what were ghosts compared to actual demons?

"Have you contacted her?" Tristan asked.

Steven replied - "Isabelle Barrett takes herself seriously, you know. I have no idea whether she'll even say yes or not." He tilted a sandy eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by his co-producer's concerns.

"Who's going to say no to a lead spot on a reality TV show?" Tristan replied , while Tristan already knew that not everyone wanted to be on television, he guessed that Steven would only scoff at such an assertion.

Actually, Tristan himself had been reluctant when Steven first approached him to act as host and co-producer of Project Demon Hunters, mostly because the thought of such widespread exposure was troubling on many levels. It was one thing to work in the paranormal circuit, the lecture halls and the conferences along with guest appearances on various fringe podcasts and radio shows. But it was another thing to have your face beamed into millions of households each week?

The chances of having his carefully constructed identity torn apart were very small, and yet he still wasn't sure he wanted to take that risk or not. Not when he could lose everything if the truth about his past was ever revealed.

But Steven had worn him down, arguing that he was the leading voice in demonology today, and the sort of person a demon-hunting show needed. The money hadn't been bad, either. Even on a cut-rate cable show, the pay scale was a lot higher than what he'd been getting from his various convention and seminar appearances. While he was comfortable enough, he knew he would have been foolish to pass up that kind of cash infusion.

Steven remarked - "Isabelle Barrett is exactly the sort of person who would say no. She's not in this for the fame and fortune." (He added with reasonable tone) - "Which is why I need you to talk to her. You see! Expert to expert. She'll understand that."

Tristan had his doubts, but he knew if he continued to dig in his heels, Steven would wonder why he was being so stubborn. On the surface, Isabelle Barrett was exactly what Project Demon Hunters needed — someone smart, articulate, and photogenic as hell.

Never mind! Tristan had already done whatever he could do to stay out of her orbit but it is not always an easy thing to do in a field as small and fringe as the paranormal, even though the topics they focused on were very different. Well, it looked as though he wouldn't be able to avoid her any longer.

"All right," he replied. "I'll get in touch with her tomorrow."

Steven corrected him at once and said - "Not tomorrow! You are going there today only. Glendora's only an hour drive from here, and the execs want a commitment as soon as possible so we can get production started now. I'm already getting the crew put together as I don't want to waste any time."

Probably because February and March tended to be two of Southern California's gloomiest months, and so any location shoots set here would look properly foreboding. There was some money for travel in the show's production budget, but not enough to travel out of state for each episode. They'd have to pick their locations wisely. Luckily, he already knew exactly where they needed to start… , a place that was almost around the corner from Isabelle Barrett's house.

"Ok! I'm On my way," he said, since he knew he'd only be wasting time if he attempted any more arguments. He got up from his seat across from Steven's glass and steel desk. "I will call you as soon as I have Ms. Barrett on board."

"Take these with you," Steven said, handing over a manila folder. "Contracts."

There probably wasn't any point in saying that Steven was getting ahead of himself. So Tristan took the folder without comment, lifted his free hand in a brief gesture of farewell, then left the office.

As he waited for the elevator to take him down to the building's parking garage, he tried to reassure himself that everything would be fine. After all, he'd been hiding the truth about himself for more than ten years now. He would just have to keep doing it for a little while longer.