Okay, so I entertained a few fantasies of smashing his face in, strapping him to a space shuttle or feeding him to a pool full of piranha. But I thought there was something to be said for not acting on that.

I went back to Santa Muerta to make sure Dekker was all right. Without consulting anyone, I took him with me off the island. It was a pretty drastic act on my part. But until I could sort things out, I wasn’t quite ready to kill him. And if I didn’t, the council would.

“Why am I here?” Dekker asked as he sat in my favorite chair drinking my favorite scotch.

“Because I don’t want to kill you,” I said as I chopped up a salad for Sartre.

“And why don’t you want to kill me?”

“I’ve changed my mind.”

Dekker chuckled at that. No doubt he found this whole scenario amusing. I’d rigged up an ankle-and-wrist collar system loosely based on the invisible fencing idea for dogs. If he tried to lunge, kick or leave, he’d be shocked senseless.

“Nice place you got here,” he continued. “Like a mobile command base.”

I nodded. “You should see my summer home. It’s a Volkswagen Microbus.”

My guest laughed at that. That was odd-thinking of him as my guest instead of my vic. It was only a matter of time before the council caught on to the fact that I hadn’t cleared my assignment.

Interestingly enough, just as I thought this, my cell phone rang.

“This is Coney,” I answered, hoping it was just my dad calling with the football scores. I didn’t really follow the game, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Coney? It’s your aunt Carolina. Where is Dekker?”

“What? You mean he’s missing?”

“I’ve sent you something.” She hung up before I could respond. Within seconds, a UPS courier knocked on my door.

“Dude, you are hard to find,” the pimply kid said as I signed the release for the package.

“Apparently not,” I replied as I shut the door in his face. Sartre mistook the sound for the fridge door and began wheeking. I tossed her some spinach and sat down to open the envelope I’d been sent.

Son of a bitch.

If I were to look at things philosophically, I would have to say that I am not a paranoid person. I knew the council watched us to an extent, but I didn’t think they knew everything about us. At least, I didn’t before I opened that damned envelope.

There were a lot of things going through my mind as I drove through the night to Iowa. I injected Dekker with a sleeping agent. He let me. Maybe he was tired of all this too. Once the caffeine kicked into overdrive, even stranger thoughts took over. I toyed with the idea of the existence of God. Something larger than me seemed to be at work here. That was the only way to explain how I got a summons from the council asking me to return to Santa Muerta with both Dekker and one Veronica Gale.

Oh, sure, it might have been a coincidence. I’d feel a whole lot better if that were the case. It would be so convenient to believe that. But this all seemed too arranged. After five hours of trying to figure out how it happened, I gave up and pulled into a Wal-Mart parking lot in the Quad Cities to get some sleep.

I reread the file. There was no doubting its intent. I was being ordered to bring these two people before the council. They had a lot of questions. And it was my guess that they wouldn’t let either Ronnie or Arje live through the day. That wasn’t like the council. Well, it was exactly like the old council. But our folks were in charge now, and they were different. At least, they were supposed to be.

I probably don’t need to mention that I didn’t sleep well. I thought about leaving Dekker there and just going myself to the island. I sure as hell didn’t want to involve Ronnie in any of this. But if I left them here, it could be a trap, and someone else from the family might grab them or worse. What a mess. Freud didn’t have dilemmas like this.

As I downed my coffee the next morning, I realized something: I was in Carolina Bombay’s hometown. I could stop by and see her and ask her about my orders. Yes. That would work. Aunt Carolina would have to give me something to work with. Mainly because I wouldn’t leave her house until she did.

I called first, because I’m not rude. Carolina sounded thrilled that I was in town. By the time I got to her house, my cousins Gin and Dak had joined her for a little family reunion. In spite of the fact that this was business, I was happy to see them.

“Coney!” Gin squealed as she hugged me. Dak grinned from behind her, holding his son’s hand. Louis smiled up at me.

“Hey, cuz. Great to see you two.” And I meant it.

Carolina emerged from the dining room carrying a tiny, redheaded infant. She introduced the baby as Dak and Leonie’s daughter, Sofia.

“You guys sure are settling down,” I observed. Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined Dak married with kids.

“So when will this happen to you?” Gin asked.

I winced. A month or so ago, I would’ve thought it possible. Now it seemed like I would never start a family. With a twinge of surprise, I found myself feeling sad about that.

I took the baby from my aunt and cradled her in my arms. “I don’t think so.” Sofia cooed and promptly fell asleep. She smelled like talcum powder, and I realized I was sniffing her head.

“Yeah, right.” Dak laughed.

I tried to smile. I really did. But something about holding that baby made me feel sick inside. I cursed the Bombay family for taking this chance away from me. Carolina brought out some wine and cheese, then took the baby back. I watched her expression of unadulterated bliss.

“I know Georgia would be a wonderful grandmother,” Carolina said, looking directly at me.

“I think you’re right,” I said. But that was impossible. First of all, my idiot brother, Richie, had to go and get himself killed-which was okay, because I was pretty sure any spawn he had would’ve been born with the mark 666. And second, well, unless I got a surrogate, there wasn’t much hope for my procreating.

“What brings you to the area?” Gin asked as her daughter, Romi, burst into the room only long enough to grab her cousin Louis and run off.

“An assignment. Your mom called. I thought I’d get some details.”

I watched as everyone looked at one another. While it wasn’t unheard-of for Bombays to talk over their assignments, it was still pretty rare.

“Should we leave?” Dak started to rise to his feet.

I waved him back down. “No. Stay. It doesn’t matter to me.”

In fact, the only person it would matter to was Carolina. She was a member of the council. If it was top-secret, she’d let us know.

My aunt seemed to think about this for a moment. “No, it’s okay. What did you want to know?”

“Why do you want me to bring these two people back to Santa Muerta?”

“What two people?” Gin asked.

“My girlfriend and my former vic.” There was a stunned hush. I don’t know if that was because they were surprised I had a girlfriend or at the fact that any vic was considered “former” and not “late.”

Carolina nodded. “You didn’t clear your assignment. You brought Vic to the island, then took him off…alive. We want to know why.”

“And the reason I am supposed to bring Veronica Gale into all of this?”

“We think she knows too much,” Carolina said slowly. She knew she had to be careful. Both Gin and Dak had involved their mates in the family and almost had to kill them.

“I was careful,” I said, hoping that would be enough.

“We have to make sure,” my aunt said evenly. “For everyone’s safety.”

“I can’t let you kill her. I won’t allow it. If we leave her alone, she will never know anything.”

Carolina shook her head. “You know the rules, Coney. Unless you marry her and tell her everything, she is dangerous to the family.”

“That’s not going to happen, Aunt Carolina.” I felt a stab of pain. I wanted to marry Ronnie. But there were too many complications.