“Can’t hear you,” he told her. Or at least, he thought that was what he said.

Goddamn it, this ringing in his ears wasn’t helping.

When the physician pointed at the exam table, he thought, Right, okay. He would put Selena there.

Moving across the tile floor, he approached the place he needed to get to and bent down, intending to lay her flat. Except, no—her body didn’t shift to accommodate the repositioning.

It nearly killed him to ease her onto her side.

Crouching down so she could see him, he took her hand, the one that was as yet extended to him, the one with his ring on it. “It’s okay, my queen. It’s all right—you got out of this last time, you’re going to do it again. You’re going to come out of this.”

He never looked away from her panicky eyes. Not when machines were hooked up to her, and IVs started, and X-rays taken. Not while the two doctors and Ehlena worked feverishly, administering drugs and taking her pulse and blood pressure. Not as she began to tear up, the crystal drops forming and dropping off the bridge of her nose and the side of her face.

“I got you, my queen. I’m not going anywhere. Stay with me. You’ve come out of this many times before, and the same thing’s going to happen tonight. Believe with me, come on . . . you’ve got to believe with me. . . .”

He had to open his mouth, because he was breathing so hard his nose couldn’t keep up with the demands. And he kept having to swallow—it was either that or run the risk of needing to tilt to the side and throw up on the tile.

This can’t be it, he thought.

I’m not ready.

I can’t say good-bye.

I can’t let her go tonight.

This can’t be it . . .

SIXTY-SEVEN

As Rhage stared up at Assail’s glass house, he knew in his gut something was in all-wrong territory. Ever since he and V had arrived, nothing had changed. The interiors, whether it was the kitchen, that football field–size living room, or the office, were each exactly right—except there was no one moving through them.

“Maybe Assail’s doing his toenails underground,” Rhage muttered. “A lilac, perhaps. Or a cherry red.”

“Sooner or later,” V bitched, “if he’s going to stay in business, he’ll have to leave by car. You can’t transport the kind of money or drugs he deals in while ghosting.”

“Unless they all overdosed together.”

They both had to assume Assail and his boys had been drafting in and out since nightfall, and there was nothing they could do to stop that. V had, however, set up tiny cameras before they’d left the dawn before, and there had been no activity during the daylight hours—no duffels left out for pickup, nothing dropped off. So, as V said, there was no way they were moving any product—

Like they were being choreographed, he and his brother went for their phones at the same time.

AH911.

From Phury.

Without hesitation, they both dematerialized, traveling back across the river and re-forming at the rear door of the audience house. V entered the code and they burst into the kitchen, startling the doggen who was at the stove.

The fact that Paradise’s maid, Vuchie, didn’t seem alarmed was a good sign. There was also no loud beeping of an alarm having been triggered in the air.

Nonetheless, they outted their guns and jogged for the dining room, punching through the flap door in the back corner—

Just in time to see Assail pull a head out of a cardboard box by the hair.

“Thought you’d like to join the party,” Phury whispered out of the corner of his mouth. “He just showed up.”

“I should like to introduce you,” Assail was saying, “to my partner. My former partner.”

The undead’s brown eyes lolled around the room, the black bloodstained lips gaping slowly like a fish’s would if it had landed on the bottom of a boat in the sun.

The various Brothers standing around the room cursed.

And as George growled next to Wrath’s chair, the King reached down and soothed the dog. “How do we know that’s not just some slayer off the streets?”

“Because I’m telling you.”

“Your credibility is not something anyone should fall on a sword for.”

“But I will.” Assail disappeared the head and put the box down on the floor. “I know where all the lessers are staying.”

Everyone went silent.

Wrath sat forward in his arm chair, his wraparounds trained in the drug dealer’s direction. “Do you.”

“Aye.”

Wrath’s nostrils flared as he tested the male’s scent. “He’s telling the truth, boys.”

Annoyance tightened the drug dealer’s arched brows. “Of course I am. You informed me I was not to do business with the Lessening Society. I have obeyed your command. If the Brotherhood goes and eradicates them where they stay, I shall no longer have to prove that I have complied with your orders whilst I continue my pursuits. Our interests are therefore aligned, and if you need strong backs to fight alongside, I hereby volunteer myself and my cousins.”

“I am touched by your magnanimity.”

“It has naught to do with you. As I have told you, I am a businessman. There is nothing I will not do to protect my endeavors and it is very clear to me that you and the assembled herein are capable of shutting that which is precious to me down. Therefore, I have taken the necessary steps to ensure I may continue—even though it is coming at great inconvenience and my revenue stream will suffer as I am forced to reestablish my network on the streets.”

As the air in the room began to hum, Rhage glanced around at his brothers. He was so fucking ready for a full-on war, for a chance to pay those undead bastards back for what they did during the raids.

This was an unexpected boon.

“It is my understanding”—Assail pointed to the box—“that that is the Forelesser. I attacked him in private and deliberately did not send him back to his Maker. There will be a short period of time during which his absence will be tolerated.”

V spoke up. “So where is this den of iniquity.”

“The Brownswick School for Girls. Its campus has been abandoned for some time and they are living in the dorms.”

“And trying to learn long division,” someone muttered.

“Or writing the slayer version of Our Bodies, Ourselves,” somebody else said.

Assail cut through the chatter. “I learned of their location many, many months ago. After all, it is important that one know the particulars of one’s business partner’s life. My cousins have investigated the grounds this night and have confirmed that they are still in place. I imagine you will wish to scout the property as well prior to any coordinated siege.”

Immediately, all the Brothers started speaking up, volunteering to go—but Wrath put a hand out, silencing them.

“Will you let us keep that,” he asked, nodding in the direction of the box. “Or is that a souvenir you want to put on your mantel.”

“As with the information I have provided, it is yours to do with as you wish.”

“Where’s the rest of the body.”

“Out on Route 149. There’s an abandoned dairy farm. Go into the south pasture to the woods, you’ll find the rest of the body and his SUV there.”

Wrath sat back and crossed his long legs knee to ankle. “This is a much better outcome than us having to kill you.”

“I am not pleased with this.”

“It’s better than a coffin,” Rhage said.

The drug dealer glanced over. “That is correct.” With that, Assail turned on his heel and headed for the door. “You know where to find me if you have further inquiries or require assistance with a raid.”

Butch let the male out, escorting him to the house’s front door.

It wasn’t until the Brother was back and had reshut them all in together that anyone said a thing.

“If that is the Forelesser,” Wrath said, “the Omega will know instantly.”