I managed to keep it off my face. I nodded to Fredo; he nodded back. I wanted to say something, but I didn't trust my voice. I was thinking, Stupid, stupid. And that kind of stupid could get me killed.

Nathaniel was at the back of the kitchen by the sink, under the window that we'd once had to replace because of shotgun damage. The window was fine now, but I wasn't. I lived in a world where I had to see the bad guys. Fredo was on our side, but he was definitely a bad guy. Not a bad guy that would kill me, but one that could, and I'd walked into the room right past him. It was a rookie mistake that let me know just how badly I was doing.

I kept walking until I stood beside Nathaniel with our backs to the room. Damian trailed me like a lost puppy that had found a likely handout. I'd let go of his hand when I realized I hadn't seen Fredo, when I'd felt the movement of Fredo behind me. I wanted my hands free. I knew that Damian needed to touch me, but I needed my hands free. I was feeling claustrophobic. The kitchen's a good-sized room. When the curtains are open it's bright and shiny, but with the curtains shut and the overhead lights on, it was dim and shadowy, and I wanted light. I wanted to step out on the deck and watch the trees with the morning light on them. I didn't want to stand here in the dark and hold the vampire's hand. I wanted a choice, and I didn't seem to have any. I was suddenly so angry, and it wasn't Damian I was mad at.

The far drapes moved, and Clair came back in from the deck, all smiles. "It's a wonderful view."

"Thanks," I said, and went back to watching Nathaniel make coffee. If I just kept not looking anywhere else, maybe I wouldn't let my anger get the best of me. I wanted to rant at Richard, to scream and accuse. And I so did not want to do that in front of his new girlfriend or my boyfriends. Did I just say boyfriends ?

I put my hands on the coolness of the counter, closed my eyes, and just tried not to think again. Not thinking was good. Not feeling was better.

A hand laid itself over mine, and the moment it did, I was calmer. I knew without opening my eyes who it was, because only one man's touch calmed me. Calmed me because he'd spent centuries perfecting his calmness. I opened my eyes and met Damian's green gaze. I wanted to hate him. I wanted to be furious at being trapped with him, tied, but I couldn't be. With him touching my hand, with his eyes so ready to fill with pain, I couldn't be angry, not with him. Shit.

I couldn't breathe, not a good solid breath. He took my anger, but he couldn't take the fear. I jerked away from him. "I need to be angry right now, Damian, it's all I've got."

A hand touched my arm, and I jerked away from it. Nathaniel's eyes were cautious rather than hurt. "What's wrong?"

I moved back from both of them, bumping up against the island hard enough that the dishes rattled in the cabinets.

"Anita." Micah's voice. He was at the end of the island looking at me with his serious kitty-cat eyes.

I couldn't seem to get a deep enough breath. It was as if the room was getting smaller. Nathaniel was in front of me, and either side of the island was blocked by the other two. I felt cornered, trapped in so many ways.

"Boys," Dr. Lillian said, "I think Anita needs a little air."

"I can't leave Damian alone," I said, but my voice sounded choked.

She came and moved them all away from me, shooing them back. "Come on, a little fresh air and some open spaces, doctor's orders." She held out her hand to me, but was careful not to touch me, as if she knew what I was feeling better than I did. She eased me to the drapes and pushed me through them onto the open deck.

The light was dazzling, and I was blind with it for a moment. When I could see again, she was as far away as the wraparound deck would allow her to be and still be on it. She didn't say anything, just looked out at the view.

I started to say something, then thought, Fuck it, she's right. I went to the rail and looked out at the trees. The trees were a kaleidoscope of color. The wind stirred all that gold and orange, and a cascade of leaves like an upturned bag of gold showered down around me. The sky was that flawless blue that only happens here in October, as if the sky were closer, fresher, newly minted blue, as if all the clear skies until now had been practice for these few weeks of blue, blue sky. I breathed in the heavy gold of the sun, like pale syrup on the leaves. It smelled like autumn, that crisp, clean, sharp smell, that is made up of dying leaves, chill nights, and the warm breath of the day before night falls. You could taste fall on your tongue like some kind of bread or cake, something thick and nutty and sweet. I took in as much air as I could and let it out slow, as if my body didn't want to let it go.

I stood there leaning on the railing, drinking in the sunlight, the colors, and the rich scent of autumn woods. I was smiling and calm all on my own by the time Dr. Lillian spoke. She stayed on her end of the deck, as if she wasn't sure how much room I needed. "Feel better?"

"Yes," and I smiled at her, though I felt a little embarrassed. "Sorry that I lost it in there."

"You've had some big changes in a very short space of time, Anita."

"How much do you know?"

"That you've somehow tied yourself to Damian and Nathaniel, somewhat the way that Jean-Claude tied you and Richard to him. That you did it by accident. That it's a miracle no one's dead."

I sighed, and the smile was gone. "Yeah, I could have handled it better."

"No one could handle all that you handle, Anita, better or worse. You keep surprising all of us."

"Us, who?" I asked.

She smiled. "All of us, the shapeshifters, the vampires, all of us. I can't really speak for everybody, but I know you are a constant amazement to the wererats. We never know what you're going to do next." She leaned against the rail with her arms crossed over her clean white shirt.

"Neither do I, not anymore."

"That loss of control issue again, isn't it?"

"You know, I really don't want to psychoanalyze myself right now."

"Fine," she raised her hands as if to show she was unarmed, "but the next time you start getting claustrophobic, and you need some air, get some air, okay?"

"It was that obvious?" I asked.

"If I say yes, you won't like it, because you hate for anyone to be able to read you. If I say no, I'd be lying, and you hate that, too."

"I'm just impossible to get along with, aren't I?"

"Not impossible, but not exactly easy either." She gave a small laugh to soften it, and said, "Do you feel up to going back inside?"

I took another deep breath and nodded. "Sure."

She nodded, too. "Good, be careful when you move the drapes. Don't want to flash too much of this beautiful sun onto Damian."

I nodded and felt the good air leaving me. Before I stepped back through the sliding glass doors, I was wondering, what was I going to do with him? I couldn't keep touching him all day. Could I? I was willing to do it up to a point, but all day would drive me mad. Especially if it was not just today, but every day. I suddenly saw an endless stream of days with Damian permanently attached to me. It was claustrophobic.

I half expected him to leech onto me when I came through the door, but he didn't. I stood there in the sudden dimness of the curtained kitchen, letting my eyes adjust. My eyes automatically turned to where Richard had been, but I forced myself to look for Fredo first. He'd moved closer like a good bodyguard, leaning against the small two-seater table in the breakfast nook. The white roses that Jean-Claude sent every week framed Fredo's darkness. His fingers were tracing the edges of his jacket again. I'd never seen Fredo use his knives, but something told me that he'd get to his blades faster than I'd get to my gun, not to mention my knife. The back sheath was really an emergency backup, not a main weapon. If I'd wanted a blade as a main weapon, I'd have put on the wrist sheaths.