“Excuse me, sir, but I thought you’d like to know I’ve finished sweeping the house. Everything’s clear. If you don’t need me for anything else, I’ll get out of your way.”

“Thanks for coming on short notice, Jake. I’ll walk you out.” Chaz headed toward the foyer with one of the few men they all trusted to make sure no one had bugged their homes. After all, if the Regents who gathered together couldn’t speak freely, then what was the point?

When they reached the front door he said, “Tell Jarvis I appreciate him letting me borrow your services again.”

“Not a problem.”

With the few minutes Chaz had left before the others arrived, he studied the agenda for the night’s meeting. Most was routine, but his fellow Regents were starting to press hard for details about Kincade’s escapades and their far-reaching effects on the Seattle sector and beyond.

Unfortunately, Sasha had remained remarkably close-mouthed about her findings so far. After all, she was her father’s daughter. She wouldn’t tell them a damn thing until she was good and ready. He couldn’t fault her for that, even if it was inconvenient for him and his plans.

Luckily, he had his own source busy gathering intelligence out there. Rusty had reported the fighting up and down the I-5 corridor had been incredibly bloody and vicious, although it had finally settled down some. Additionally, a guard had damn near killed one of the pet Kalith. Too bad he’d failed.

A car pulled into his driveway, the first of his guests arriving right on time. Tonight’s agenda also included discussion about what to do about Colonel Kincade himself. It really was a damn shame Devlin Bane had let the bastard live. Yes, the Paladin had shown admirable restraint and all that, but he’d left it up to the Regents to decide the traitor’s fate.

Unfortunately Kincade knew where a lot of skeletons were buried. Who knew what would happen if he started naming names? They all stood to suffer if that happened. God knows who would be tainted when Kincade was finished. Maybe it would be better for everyone if the bastard were to die in custody. It had happened before.

The doorbell chimed softly. Time to put his game face on.

Duke pounded the heavy bag, his hands aching from the punishment, but he kept going. In his head, he wasn’t hitting heavy canvas patched with duct tape at all. No, he was beating the enemy to a bloody pulp.

He stopped the swinging bag with his hands, needing a moment to let his lungs catch up. Thanks to the past few days of fighting, he was tired and sore, but he’d been unable to unwind enough to sleep.

With good reason, too. Every time he closed his eyes, he heard the dying screams of his two friends. There would be no coming back for them, not like the Paladins. God, even after years of fighting beside them, he still couldn’t get used to seeing them dead one day and back up walking around the next. It was creepy. Unnatural.

He used to think they were okay, even considered them heroes. But that ended the day Devlin Bane let his prick start making his decisions for him. When that softhearted Handler he’d married told him to let that first Kalith live, things had gone to hell and stayed that way.

Duke unleashed his pent-up rage on the bag, pretending it was that bastard Larem. It didn’t help.

Another day at the most and Larem would be back on his feet. Duke hadn’t been the only one who’d hoped the Kalith’s wound would be fatal. But no, just like the Paladins, his ability to heal had kicked in and dragged him back from oblivion. What a fucking damn shame.

One of his fellow guards had tried to do the right thing by ridding the world of the pale-eyed killer and failed. Maybe the next attempt would succeed. With another punch, he imagined the sweet slide of a metal blade through Larem’s gut. A bullet would work, too, but where was the fun in that? He wanted that Kalith to die slowly and screaming for mercy, just like the guards had down in the tunnels. And Larem would only be the first.

Right jab, left. Right jab, left.

As he counted down the last of his routine, he thought about the other rumor he’d heard. Something about Sasha Willis. He didn’t want to believe it and wasn’t sure he did. But, God knows, there was certainly precedent for it.

Yesterday she had stopped by to visit Laurel Young’s lab and check on those injured in the fighting. That much was all right. Hell, he’d even applaud her efforts to bolster the morale. It had been too damn long since any of the upper management paid much attention to the grunts in the trenches.

That wasn’t the disturbing part. She’d had a long talk with Devlin Bane behind closed doors. Again, okay. But then she’d made a beeline to the curtained-off area where they’d stashed the wounded Kalith. What was up with that? Surely with a Regent for a father she knew better than to mistake the guy for anything but craziness waiting to happen.

But then Lacey Sebastian was shacked up with Barak despite her own brother being a Paladin. Cullen Finley was living with a Kalith woman and her two brats. It was like some kind of disease.

Last two reps—right, left, repeat. Finished. Maybe now he was tired enough to sleep. Picking up his gear, he headed for the showers.

Odd. There was something stuck in the door of his locker—a folded-up piece of paper. He listened hard to see if he was alone. On the way in, he’d passed that new guy, Rusty, but no one else. For sure, the paper hadn’t been there earlier.

It creeped him out big-time. What if he’d been cursing the Kalith’s name out loud without realizing it? If someone, anyone, had heard him, it could be disastrous. He needed this job no matter how bad things had gotten lately.

If this was some kind of prank, he’d beat the culprit to a bloody pulp. That’s what it had to be. Right? Only one way to find out: read the note.

The message was written in block letters: YOU ARE NOT ALONE IN HOW YOU FEEL. WE’LL BE IN TOUCH SOON.

What the hell? Duke spun around, looking for any sign that someone had been watching him. His skin crawled at the possibility. He was still alone in the locker room, but all of a sudden the thought of using the facility’s shower lost its appeal. He’d wait until he got home to clean up, then order in a pizza and watch whatever game was on television.

Tomorrow would be soon enough to think about the message and what it might mean. Either way, maybe it was time to look for a new job. Trouble was, he wasn’t qualified to do anything but security work, and no one else paid like the Regents did. If he hung in there for just a few more years, he’d walk away with a generous retirement package. That was the carrot at the end of the stick that convinced most of the guards to find some way to cope with all the weirdness connected with their job.

But days like these past few made him seriously wonder if the money was actually worth it. Right now, he’d have to say probably not. With that happy thought, he walked out into the Seattle night.

Sasha paced the length of her hotel room. She’d only wanted to know that Larem was on the mend. That’s all. Under the circumstances, she’d felt she owed him that much.

Instead, he’d acted like the biggest jackass ever. What was wrong with him? Sure, he was hurting and justifiably upset about being stabbed by a guard. Did that mean he had to take it out on her? She had no intentions of being a handy target for his anger ever again. Nope, next time their paths crossed—if they crossed—she’d freeze him out.

Yeah, she knew just how that would play out. His pale eyes would look so sad as she brushed past him with only the barest of nods. He’d turn to stare longingly after her, wishing he hadn’t acted like such a jerk. She could just see it.

Like that was going to happen. She flopped down on the couch and hugged a pillow. Working up a nice case of righteous indignation was fun and all, but it didn’t change the facts. Regardless of Larem’s bad behavior, she’d been the one in the wrong. Her actions had put the man—no, the Kalith—in mortal danger not just once but twice.

He knew it, and so did she.

Worrying about him was bad enough, but she also hadn’t heard how things were going for the Paladins Devlin had sent south to Mount St. Helens and Mount Adams. Maybe her father had been right to maintain a careful distance from the men who fought and died for the Regents. Knowing they were fighting for their lives was bad enough in the abstract, but knowing them personally took it to a whole new level.

She reached for her laptop, and shot Devlin a quick request for an update. She wrote another message to Lacey Sebastian, hoping the geologist would have good news for her.

Now all she could do was wait. Luckily, she was saved by a knock at the door. She wasn’t expecting company, and a quick peek through the peephole wasn’t any help. She opened the door only as far as the chain allowed.

“Hi, can I help you?”

The woman looked a bit chagrined. “Okay, I’m betting Laurel didn’t get around to calling you. She was supposed to let you know I’d be stopping by. I’m Brenna Nichols. You might have known my father, Judge Nichols.”

That was a name Sasha recognized for sure. “Yes, of course. I knew him from my father’s poker nights. His death rocked the whole organization.”

Brenna’s smile drooped a bit. “So I eventually found out.”

Sasha could’ve kicked herself. Judge Nichols had been one of her father’s good friends, but he had chosen to keep Brenna ignorant of his secret connection to the Paladins.

Sasha closed the door long enough to unfasten the chain. “Come on in. Can I get you something to drink? Water? Pop? Or I could make coffee.”

“Water sounds good. I try to avoid caffeine when Blake’s on duty.” Brenna sank down in the closest chair with a sigh. “I don’t know about you, but I have a hard time relaxing when the guys are on call.”

Sasha pulled two bottled waters from the mini fridge and handed one to Brenna. “Yeah, I know what you mean. Back in St. Louis, I didn’t actually come into contact with many of the Paladins and never visited their headquarters, so the actual fighting was definitely more abstract.”

“Be grateful. Their headquarters down in those caves can be a pretty scary place. Been there, done that, don’t want to go back.”

Sasha had heard the stories and grinned. “You do have a certain reputation back in Missouri.”

“Oh, really?”

Sasha smiled. “Yeah, the general opinion is that no one should ever risk getting between you and Trahern—and he wasn’t the one they said people should be afraid of.”

Brenna grinned, looking pretty proud of herself. “Blake’s worth fighting for.”

Sasha thought back to her brief time with David and had to agree with Brenna’s assessment. Could Sasha have saved him if she’d been there at his side? She’d never know, but it hurt to think it might have been possible.

She realized that Brenna was watching her. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to space out on you.”

“No problem, but if I had to guess, I’d say maybe you’ve had some firsthand experience yourself.”

But she also seemed to realize that it wasn’t a topic Sasha was ready to talk about, because Brenna immediately changed the subject. Sort of. “I thought you might need to talk about what happened with Larem down in the tunnels.”

Sasha winced and sat down on the sofa. “I’d really hoped the whole incident would stay a secret, but that was probably naive. I guess everyone thinks it’s my fault he ended up getting hurt so badly.”