Down at the foot of the driveway, a car turned in. Then another. Then a third.

“There’s your looters,” the brother said.

“Fuckers,” Rhage bit out with a grim smile. “But at least they have good timing-I need to work off dinner.”

“And it’d be so damn rude not to greet them at the door,” Butch muttered.

Instinctively, Phury reached to open his coat, but then remembered there were no guns or daggers to get to.

There was a split second of awkwardness, during which no one would look at him, so he said, “I’ll go back to the compound and contact the other families in the glymera. I’ll also let Wrath know what’s doing.”

The three nodded and jogged for the stairs.

As they pounded down to welcome-wagon the lessers, Phury took one last look around the bedroom, thinking that he wanted to be with the others, killing the sons of bitches who had done this.

The wizard faced off at him in his mind. They won’t fight with you anymore because they can’t trust you. Soldiers don’t want to be backed up by someone they have no faith in.

Face it, mate, you’re finished on this side. The question is, how long until you ruin it with the Chosen?

Just as Phury was about to dematerialize, he frowned.

Across the way, on the dresser, there was a smudge of something on one of the brass drawer pulls.

He went over for a closer look. Dark brown… it was dried blood.

When he opened the drawer, there were bloody finger-prints on the objects inside: the Jacob amp; Co. iced-out watch Lash had worn before his transition had smudges on it, and so did a diamond chain and a heavy stud earring. Something had obviously been taken out of the little drawer, but why would a lesser leave such expensive things behind? It was hard to imagine what would be worth more than all those diamonds and still fit in a small space.

Phury glanced around at the Sony VAIO laptop and the iPod… and the dozen other drawers in the room that were divvied up between the desk and the bureau and the bedside tables. All of them were closed tight.

“You have to leave.”

Phury turned around. Z was standing in the doorway, gun drawn.

“Get the fuck out of here, Phury. You’re not armed.”

“I could be.” He glanced over at the desk where a couple of knives lay on the textbooks. “In a heartbeat.”

“Go.” Z bared his fangs. “You’re not helping here.”

The first sounds of the fighting drifted up the staircase in a series of grunts and barked curses.

As his twin took off to defend the race, Phury watched Z go. Then he dematerialized from Lash’s bedroom, bound for the desk in the training center’s office.

Chapter Thirty

"You need to rest,” Cormia said as Bella yawned again.

Fritz had just come in and taken away their First Meal dishes. Bella had had steak and mashed potatoes and mint-chocolate -chip ice cream. Cormia had had the potatoes… and some of the ice cream.

And she’d thought the M amp;M’s had been delightful?

Bella snuggled more deeply into her pillows. “You know, I think you’re right. I am tired. Maybe we can finish up the marathon later tonight?”

“Sounds lovely.” Cormia slid off the bed. “Do you need anything?”

“No.” Bella’s eyes closed. “Hey, before you go. What are those candles made of? They are incredibly soothing.”

The female seemed awfully pale against her white lace pillowcase. “They’re made of sacred things from the other side. Sacred, healing things. Herbs and flowers mixed with a binding made with water from the Scribe Virgin’s fountain.”

“I knew they were special.”

“I’m not going to be far,” Cormia blurted.

“Which is good.”

As Cormia stepped out of the room, she was careful to shut the door quietly.

“Madam?”

She looked behind her. "Fritz? I thought you’d left with the tray.”

“I did.” He lifted the bouquet he was holding. “I needed to deliver these.”

“What lovely flowers.”

“They are for the second-floor sitting room.” He plucked out a lavender rose and offered it forward. “For you, mistress.”

“Why, thank you.” She took the delicate petals to her nose. “Oh, how lovely.”

Cormia jumped as something brushed her leg.

Bending down, she ran her hand over the black cat’s silky, resilient back. “Why, hello, Boo.”

The cat purred and leaned into her, his surprisingly strong body shifting her weight.

“Do you care for roses?” she asked him, offering him the bloom.

Boo shook his head and nudged at her free hand, demanding more attention.

“I adore this cat.”

“And he adores you,” Fritz said, then hesitated. “Mistress, if I may…”

“What is it?”

“The master Phury is down in the training center’s of fice, and I believe he could use some company. Perhaps you would-”

The cat let out a loud meow, trotted over in the direction of the grand staircase, and flicked his tail. It seemed as if, had he had arms and hands, he would have been pointing down to the foyer.

The butler laughed. “I think his lordship Boo agrees.”

The cat meowed again.

Cormia tightened her grip on the rose’s stem as she stood up. Maybe this was a good thing. She needed to tell the Primale that she was leaving. “I should like to see his grace, but are you sure now is the-”

“Good, good! I shall take you to him.”

The butler trotted off to the sitting room and returned a moment later. As he came back, there was a spring in his step and a glow to his face, as if he were doing a job he enjoyed.

“Come. Let us descend, mistress.”

Boo meowed again and led the way down the stairs and to the left, then over to a black-paneled door tucked in a corner. The butler entered a code on a numerical pad and opened what turned out to be a six-inch-thick steel panel. Cormia followed Fritz down a couple steps… and found herself in a tunnel that seemed to go on forever in both directions.

Looking around, she pulled the lapels of her robe more closely together. It was strange to feel claustrophobic in the midst of so much space, but she was abruptly conscious that they were underground and trapped inside.

“The code, by the way, is 1914,” the butler said as he closed them all in and checked to make sure the lock was properly engaged. “That would be the year the house was built. You just enter it here on these pads to get through any of the doors along the way. The tunnel is made up of concrete and steel, and is sealed at all ends. And everything in it is monitored by a security system. There are cameras”- he pointed to the ceiling-“and other monitoring devices. You are as safe here as you would be on the grounds or in the house itself.”

“Thank you.” She smiled. “I was feeling… a bit unnerved. ”

“Perfectly understandable, madam.” Boo brushed against her as if he were taking her hand and giving it a little squeeze of reassurance.

“We go this way.” The butler walked in a shuffle, his wrinkled face beaming. “The master Phury will love to see you.”

Cormia held on to her rose and followed. As she went along, she tried to cast the proper good-bye in her head, and found herself tearing up a little.

She had fought this destiny of hers in the beginning, fought against being First Mate. Yet now, as she was getting what she wanted, she mourned the loss that came with her relative freedom.

Upstairs in the hall of statues, John opened the second door down from his room and turned on the light.

Qhuinn entered the bedroom with care, like he hoped there was no mud on the soles of his New Rocks. “Nice crib.”

I’m right next door, John signed.

Both of their phones went off at the same time, and the text was from Phury: Classes canceled for the coming week. Please log on to secured Web-site for more information.