While they talked, she went to get food for Vane. She brought it back upstairs and set it down on Carson’s desk.

Vane smiled gratefully. “Thank you.”

She inclined her head to him. “Do you need anything else?”

He looked wistfully at the closed door that led to the room where Carson was treating Fang. “Guess not.”

Aimee touched his shoulder in sympathy, knowing that the one thing he needed was for Fang to be normal and whole. For him to live through this attack.

And for some reason she couldn’t name, she needed it too.

Carson came out of the examining room a little time later, after Vane had finished eating and she’d taken the dishes back to the kitchen.

Vane stood up immediately.

She could tell by the sadness in Carson’s eyes that it wasn’t good news.

“Well?” Vane tapped his hand against his thigh in nervous agitation.

Carson looked at him and sighed. “He’s completely unresponsive.”

Vane frowned. “What does that mean?”

“He’s withdrawn into himself, probably from shock, and isn’t reacting to anything I do.”

That news didn’t seem to please Vane any more than it pleased Aimee. “What about his wounds?”

“They’ll heal, but I’m not sure about his mental state. Bones and scrapes, I can fix. What’s wrong with him… you might need a psychologist.”

Vane pushed past him. “Bullshit.” He threw open the door to see Fang lying on the table in his wolf’s form. But for the subtle rise and fall of his ribs, it would be easy to mistake him for a corpse. He didn’t even twitch.

Aimee moved forward to watch as Vane embraced him.

“Fang? C’mon, buddy. Get up.”

Fang ignored him completely.

Vane curled his fists in his brother’s coat and tugged hard enough to make Aimee cringe. “Damn you. Get up!”

Fang didn’t respond at all. He just lay there, unmoving, unblinking. It was as if he’d left this world and gone somewhere else completely.

Carson went to the opposite side of the table. Gently, he pulled Vane’s hands away from Fang’s fur. “He’s not really here with us. It’s like his mind can’t handle whatever happened to the two of you and he’s retreated deep inside himself.”

Vane shook his head in denial. “He’s stronger than this. He’s always been stronger…”

“Even the mightiest oak can be felled by a whisper of a wind if it comes on the heels of a powerful enough storm.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat that burned from the sympathetic emotions choking her. Over and over, she saw Fang as he’d been that day she took the steak to him and he’d waited outside for his pack. There had been no weakness to him. He was raw power and integrity. How could this have happened to him?

She agreed with Vane. It didn’t make any sense.

“Is there anything we can do?” she asked.

Carson sighed. “I have no idea. I’d say to call Grace Alexander and see if she can help.”

Vane scowled. “Who is she?”

Carson smoothed Fang’s fur down from where Vane had tugged at it. “She’s married to a Greek demigod and is a licensed psychologist. She’s the only one I know who might reach him.”

Vane grabbed Fang’s head and angled it so that Fang was staring blankly at him. “Look at me, Fang! Damn it, don’t do this. I need you lucid. We can’t stay here. Do you hear me? You have to wake up so that we can fight.”

Carson pulled his hands away again. “I don’t think more violence is the answer. Let him rest tonight. Maybe he’ll be better by the morning.”

Dev and Alain came forward. “You want us to move him?”

Carson shook his head. “I think it best if he stays where he is for the time being. But I’m sure Vane would like a more comfortable place to spend the night.”

Aimee put her hand on Vane’s shoulder. “Go on and get a hot shower and rest for a bit. I’ll stay here with Fang until you get back.”

Vane hesitated. “I don’t know.”

She patted his arm and smiled. “It’s okay, Vane. I’ll call you if something changes. I promise.”

He nodded glumly. The agony in his hazel eyes was haunting. She wished to the gods that she knew some way to ease the pain there, but there was nothing she could do for him except bring Fang back and right now that looked to be impossible.

Sighing, he pushed himself away and followed Dev and Alain from the room. Colt stayed behind with her while Carson returned to his desk to do paperwork.

Aimee pulled a blanket out of the closet to wrap it around Fang. She ran her hand through his soft fur, stroking it as tenderly as she could.

“I’m right here, Fang,” she whispered. “Whenever you’re ready to face the world again, you won’t be alone. Vane is here and we’re here. For you.”

If the words reached him, she had no clue. He didn’t even blink.

She looked up and caught Colt’s gaze.

His gaze was empty and chilling. “I know that stupor he’s in. It’s the same one I had when my sister was killed.”

“I remember,” she said, thinking back to the night when Colt had shown up at their door after he and his sister had left them for a year. Their mother had been an Arcadian bearswan… her father’s baby sister.

Colt and his sister had been born here. And alone he’d returned to them.

Family was family, and they had welcomed him back and kept him safe. He was like a brother to her too.

The funny thing was, whenever he called them cousins or cuz, people thought it an endearment. They had no idea they really were cousins.

Aimee jerked her chin toward the door. “Why don’t you go on and rest. I’ll be fine in here with him.”

“You sure?”

She nodded. “Carson will be just outside.”

“If you need anything…”

“I know. Thanks.”

Aimee waited until she was alone with Fang. Leaning over, she put her face against his neck and held him close. “Wherever you are, Fang, you need to come back to us.”

Fang jerked as he heard a soft voice whispering to him. “Aimee!” he called out.

No one answered. There was darkness all around him. It hung thick and heavy like icicles, freezing him as he trudged through dismal water that seemed to cling to his body. His teeth chattering, he had his arms wrapped around himself.

“Vane!”

Still there was no answer. Was he dead?

Was this hell?

It was the only rational explanation. Why else would it be so awful here?

“You’re not dead.”

He jerked around at the voice that came from behind him.

No one was there either. “Who said that?”

“I did.”

He turned again as it spoke in his ear and once more, no one was there. “Who are you?”

“I am Misery.”

He saw her then. A thin wraith of a being with flowing black hair that skimmed the palest white skin he’d ever seen. It was so pale, it held a grayish tint to it like ash. Her piercing eyes were dark and large. They seemed to be almost hollow.

“Where are we?”

She smiled wanly. “The Nether Realm.”

Fang scowled at her answer. “The what?”

“We are caught in the place between the dead and the living. You were attacked by Daimons and they took enough of your soul that you are no longer alive. Yet you’re not really dead. A part of you still lives on in the human realm. You are now trapped in the shadows like the rest of us.”

“The rest of who?”

She held her hand up and he saw legions around them. Zombielike, they stumbled and moaned, trudging through the same thick water that clung to him. “We are the forgotten souls who have been relegated here by cruelty.”

He shook his head, trying to make sense of all of this. How could he be here? “I don’t understand. How did you get here?”

She pulled her arm down and the light faded. “I’m a demon who was trapped centuries ago. My family still searches for me, but they’ll never find me. I shall live out eternity here in this slime. Unable to leave without human help. Unable to sleep or to eat real food. There is nothing here but suffering and longing.” She sighed. “But sooner or later, your mortal body will die and you will be freed… unlike me. Even if I escape, I will never really be free.”