“I started coughing blood maybe six months ago. I powered through it, told myself it wasn’t a big deal because it wasn’t an all-the-time kind of thing. And I’ve been fucking exhausted and nauseous. Losing weight. I just thought it was … well, now I know what it is.”

“I’m so sorry.” She stroked his arm. “I don’t … it’s just what you said. We’ll handle it together, okay? We can handle it together.”

The silence became so loud in the room, it felt like a scream. Or maybe that was the sound in her head, the howling pain at the unfairness of it all supersonic in its volume.

To have met the love of her life, who knew the impossible truth about her and still accepted her … only to lose him before they began? Come on, destiny.

“I need to know more,” he said finally. “I want to know what kind and … everything. Maybe we’ll get a miracle. Or good news or …”

“That’s right.” Lydia nodded and all but crawled onto his chest. “That’s what we’re going to hope for. That’s what I’m going to pray for. And you’re going to do the same.”

She reached up to the nape of her neck. “Here. Take my grandfather’s St. Christopher medal. You’re going to wear it.”

When he struggled to lift his head, she helped him, and the delicate gold chain barely fit around his neck. But as he relaxed back against the pillows, she arranged what her grandfather had given her.

“He would approve of you having it,” she said. “He was the one who guided me to you out in the woods. He appeared before me … and he took me to you to save you.”

“And now we’re here,” Daniel mumbled in a dull voice.

“We just need to pray for good news. And a path forward.”

BACK IN CALDWELL, at the Brotherhood’s mansion, Xhex was chilling on one of the sofas in the billiards room, watching John Matthew, Qhuinn, V, and Butch squabble over who was playing in the first twosome at everybody’s favorite pool table. Even though there were a couple of others, the center one was, like, some kind of good luck talisman or some shit.

She didn’t know. She didn’t play games with balls.

Okay, not those kind of balls.

When John Matthew looked over and wagged his brows, it was clear he and Qhuinn were going to go at it first. No doubt, the winner of the match would play the next person in line, and so on and so on. Until dawn came and Fritz put on a massive Last Meal with enough pieces of cooked meat to feed a den of lions.

Natch.

Meanwhile, all around the house, other people were talking. Laughing. Relaxing.

It was rare that everyone had a night off at the same time, but Wrath had started the tradition a couple of months ago, and it seemed to be sticking. And as this month’s free time happened to hit on a Sunday, Xhex didn’t have to go in to any of the clubs.

So here she was. On the couch. Totally determined not to think about everything she’d been ignoring—

A glass of grapefruit juice appeared in front of her and she looked up at Rehvenge with a jump. Accepting the vitamin C, she said, “How the hell did you get Lassiter to let you use his juicer thing?”

The king of the symphaths sat down beside her with his own ginger ale. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

“Spoken like a true member of the Colony.”

“Come now, is that any way to say thank you.”

She toasted him. “Thank you.”

Underneath the folds of his full-length mink coat, which he was wearing even though the room was a balmy seventy degrees, Rehv crossed his legs at the knees and made sure the two halves covered his lower body completely—which was kind of a pity. He was wearing a perfectly cut dark gray suit that would have been appreciated by Butch, the other clotheshorse in the room.

“Speaking of symphaths,” Rehv drawled, “do you know what’s really annoying about them?”

Glancing over at him, she met his amethyst eyes. He’d recently had the sides of his Mohawk reshaved by V, and the top had been trimmed as well, the stand-up strip only about two inches high. Lounging back on the leather sofa like he was, he looked like a dangerous animal, even in his at-ease pose.

“You think I’ve forgotten?” She sipped more of the juice, the tart sweetness waking her up. Bonus. “Or is it just because you’re king of all us sociopaths and you—”

“Symphaths see what others hide.” Those glowing eyes went to the pool table and settled on John Matthew, who was leaning over with his cue, about to strike the rack of balls. “We know what others wish no one else did.”

Xhex stiffened. “It’s rude to read my grid.”

“So read mine back and we’ll be even. I’ll honestly tell you what you’ll find in me first, though. Unlike you. If I were to ask you how you are, you’d lie and give me some bullshit about how you’re sleeping fine and perfectly alert and—” Those purple eyes swung back in her direction. “—perfectly. Fucking. Fine.”

Shaking her head, Xhex smiled coldly. “You’re a fucking—”

“No, the asshole is your brother.”

“Yeah, okay, I’m not talking about Blade right now. And I was having a nice night until you came around—”

“Your grid’s collapsing.”

Xhex blinked. Then started to get up. “Well, on that note, I’ll just take this grapefruit juice—”

Rehv clapped a hold on her arm. “I’m not fucking around here, female. Your grid is collapsing. Do you understand what that means.”

When she pulled at her wrist, he let her go. “I’ve had a little trouble sleeping,” she said. “No big deal.”

Try, she hadn’t slept since she went onto Deer Mountain and talked to that … whatever that was.

Wolven.

As the word ricocheted around her mind, she tried to ignore it. Tried to ignore … the obvious concern in Rehv’s normally harsh and unforgiving face—

At that moment, her phone rang and she jumped again, splashing grapefruit juice everywhere.

“You’re going to want to answer that,” Rehv said grimly.

“Why.”

“I was the one who told them to call you.”

“Who is it.”

“Answer. The. Phone.”

If it had been anyone else, anybody else on the planet—except for John Matthew—she would have fucked off the order. But as a strange feeling came over her, she took out the vibrating cell phone—

And answered. The. Phone.

“Hello?” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw John Matthew look up from his third shot, like he was debating whether to come over and see what was wrong.

“Hello,” she said with more force. “Well, say something, goddamn it.”

“Is this Alex Hess,” a deep male voice replied.

“Yes.”

“I need to talk to you. About the labs. And yes, the ones you and I both know about.”

Xhex swung her eyes over to Rehv. Her old friend, her fellow symphath, her other king, was staring at her with something she had never seen on his face before.

It was stark terror. For her.

Between one blink and the next, she heard that ghostly entity’s voice in her mind, sure as if it had been inserted there deliberately: That is not your question, child.