I’d also been staggering to the bathroom early Saturday morning when I passed Nik’s bedroom. I heard him suck in a harsh breath and lurch up to a sitting position. That’s when it hit me: every morning he woke up thinking I was dead—with that vision the first thing in his mind. I didn’t know how many seconds it took for his memory to reset to reality, but however long was way too long.

Cherish had done this. Of the three of us, she’d picked him. I was obviously a little unstable, what with the uncontrollable gates and spouting Auphe while finger painting with blood—no way to know which way I’d crack. And she couldn’t get a grip on what would drive Robin to a suicidal rage, homicidal maybe, but facing Oshossi required both. Nik was the perfect fighter and the perfect choice. I was the switch and she’d flipped it. Now he lived with that every day, and every morning I was dead—at least to him.

That night after he’d gone to bed, I went in to his room and taped a picture to his low, spare headboard. “What could you possibly be doing?” he asked in the darkness. I knew better than to think he wouldn’t wake up when I crossed the threshold.

“I’m making like the Tooth Fairy.” I snorted before ordering, “Wait til morning. You’re always giving me chore lists. Here’s yours.”

Niko tended to sleep on his stomach, hand on the hilt of the sword under his mattress or on the knife under his pillow, and I knew when he woke up Sunday morning, the first thing he saw was the picture. It was the cheap instant kind they took when you were posing with Santa. And I was posing with Santa, hopping up and down on his balls for never bringing Niko and me any presents for Christmas. And five-year-old feet can make a real dent in a department store Santa’s balls, from the pained expression on the chubby face. I’d scribbled across the bottom of the picture: Cal’s alive. Now get off your ass and fix him breakfast. I didn’t know if the alive part helped or not, if it beat or canceled out the false memory, but he did make me waffles, so it couldn’t have hurt.

As I ate them, he studied me before looking back toward his room, back in the direction of the picture. “How did you know the presents were from me and not Santa Claus?”

“Because you didn’t get any. And if any kid deserved to be on the Good Little Boy list, it was you.” I leaned back and patted my stomach. Real, non-soy food was so amazing.

“And if anyone deserved to be on the Bad Little Boy list?” he asked, eyes lightening just a little.

I grinned. “Ask that department store Santa. Bet he couldn’t walk for a week.”

That Monday, Nik went back to teaching at NYU. I met him on his lunch break. As he moved through the crowd, I left the corner vendor with my hot dog and a lemonade for him. I handed it to him, and as he opened it, I said, “I was just talking to this guy on the corner. See him over there?” I pointed. “I know I’m a moody, whiny, sometimes possessed, killer genetic monster freak with mommy issues, but do you think Scientology could honestly be the answer to all that?”

Glass bottle held in front of his lips, Nik froze, then laughed. Yep, the Buddha-loving bad-ass actually cracked a smile and laughed.

I smiled to myself and took a bite of my hot dog. Things were going to be okay. They really were. It might be months before Niko was completely his old self again, or as close as this life would let him be, but we’d get there. I doubted a lot of things in this world, but I didn’t doubt that.

That night I went back to work too. It was the first time I’d been back since Robin and Ishiah had exited in a storm of feathers and angry, sexually charged words. Ishiah wasn’t there, which was a good thing. I would’ve had to say something, then he would’ve had to kill me, which would make finding another job a bitch.

Robin did show up, though, and I sat down with him on my break and had a beer. Before he could open his mouth, I held up a hand. “No details. I don’t want even a hint of a detail, okay? I have to work with this guy. If he looks over and sees me picturing you, him, and a feather duster, he’ll ram a beer tap into my neck and serve me up until I run dry.”

Goodfellow smiled slyly. “Coward.” But he drank his Scotch and didn’t even mention how far down a peri’s feathers went. Relieved, I told him how the move had gone, that Cherish was still missing in action, and that Nik was mostly Nik again. He’d already heard what Cherish had done, what Xolo was, why Oshossi was really chasing the vampire.

“I still can’t believe she fooled me. Me.” He stared broodingly into his glass. “I’m losing my touch.” Sighing, he finished the Scotch and said, “There’s one thing I still wonder about. Not about Cherish, but about Seamus. Who killed him?”

Well, damn, that was out of nowhere.

“Seamus?” I took a pull of the beer, bored. “Old news. Who cares?”

He persisted. “I’ve come to the conclusion that Samuel and his colleagues didn’t do it. They wouldn’t have called us before the cleanup in that case. They were suspicious of him becoming blatant with his killings, but they hadn’t made their move yet. I wonder who did. Was it someone who caught wind of Seamus’s off-the-wagon ways even before the Vigil confirmed it? And the Vigil were watching Seamus. How’d the killer get in without being seen by them?”

Robin and his curiosity. He couldn’t let anything go. No one else had even thought about Seamus in the midst of all this mess.

Almost no one.

I said nothing, just rang the glass of the beer bottle with my finger.

“You?” he hissed quietly. “It was you? Does Niko know?”

“He knows.” I rolled the bottle between my hands. “I didn’t tell him, but by now he knows.”

“How?”

The same way I knew he was across the street, watching the bar, watching me. Keeping me safe.

Nik was mostly Nik again, but at the finish line wasn’t across it. He needed time. If he needed to spend that time watching me, that was fine. No, I didn’t have to see Niko to know he was there. I knew. Just as he knew about Seamus.

I gave Robin a shrug and steadfast gaze. “He’s my brother.”

I’d killed Seamus before I knew about the dead girl in his bathtub. Killed him before I knew he’d gone rogue. I’d smelled the blood, but I didn’t know she was dead. Didn’t know it wasn’t some voluntarily given juice. I did know he was trying to kill Niko, and that wasn’t going to happen. My brother had integrity. He wanted to face him head-on, wanted to face that ambushing son of a bitch fair and square. As if Seamus gave a rat’s ass about face-to-face and honor, but Niko did.

Niko had the honor that he always denied existed in battle. It was true in a way, that denial. . . . He was the only man or monster alive that had that kind of honor. The rest of us were just doing whatever it took. Nik was better, and I wasn’t going to let him die for it. Wasn’t going to let some vampire bastard have the chance to kill him for it. I hadn’t been willing to wait until the Auphe were gone. Seamus had the time that we didn’t. My brother—a good man, the best man—could take the high road all he wanted. Seamus was different. He was about the low.

How’d you do it?” he asked with disbelief. “He was one hell of a fighter and you didn’t have a mark on you those following days.”

Simple. It had been so simple. I’d opened up a gate in Promise’s guest room late the night Cherish had shown up—that night I’d thought those god-awful things trying to anticipate the Auphe. God-awful thoughts they were, yeah, but clarifying. The clarity had carried past Cherish’s arrival. Seamus and the Auphe were one thing. Add Cherish and her trouble to the mix . . .

Too much. It was too much to handle at once. Too many ways for things to go from sugar to shit. But there was an easy solution to that.

While Niko slept and Robin kept watch, I’d traveled to Seamus’s loft. I came out right behind him. Luck, you can’t buy that kind. He hadn’t known I was there. Never saw it coming. Too bad for him. I took his head with one brutally fast and forceful swing of the sword. Guns were practically useless against vampires unless you nailed the brain or the heart. I like guns, but sometimes a sword is better. As I’d watched his head bounce as it hit the floor, I’d thought, Yep, sometimes a sword worked just fine.