“Love you, too, my Mary.” Rhage tugged her down for another kiss and lowered his voice. “Baths are fun. Did you know that?”

As a smile hit her face and stayed there, she cocked a brow. “Oh, really?”

“I think I’ll run one and get in it right before Last Meal. Come find me?”

“Does this mean we’re eating in our room again?”

“God, I hope so.”

She laughed as she straightened out of the car. “I’ll be home regular time, okay?”

“And you know where to find me!”

As she stepped away, she found Bitty staring back and forth between them. And then the car was roaring and Rhage skidded the tires, leaving tracks.

Mary laughed. “Such a show-off.”

“What does that mean?”

“He’s trying to impress us with his driving.” The pair of them started for the house. “Guys do that. They can’t help it.”

Coming up to the front door, Mary entered the code, and as she opened things wide, the scent of chocolate-chip cookies wafted into her nose.

“Wow. Twice this week with the Toll House.”

She wanted to suggest to Bitty that they follow the sounds of laughter and talking back to the big kitchen and hang out with everyone, but the girl went directly to the stairs. Hoping for some other opening, or chance to talk, Mary followed her up to the second floor, and stopped on the landing in front of her office.

“You’re going to head for the attic?” she said. “I’ll be here doing paperwork if you need anything. Or, you know, if you want to go make cookies?”

Bitty shrugged out of that big, puffy parka. “I think I’ll sit in my room. But thank you.”

“Okay. Well, good-night.”

“Good-night—”

“I’ll be here. Until just before dawn.”

“Thank you.”

Mary stayed where she was, in front of the open door to her office, as Bitty went to the stairs—

It happened so fast. One moment, the girl was walking away. The next, she had turned around and rushed back across the distance.

Her arms went around Mary quick as a breath and held on for no longer than that.

And then Bitty was gone, ascending to the attic without sparing another word or glance.

Mary stood where she was.

For quite some time.

Okay, so then that happened, V thought as his words hung in the air between him and Jane.

You ever think about having kids?

As his mate went really still and very quiet, he cursed under his breath—but that was not the kind of inquiry you could take back. Even if there was a half-dead enemy lying on a gurney between the pair of you.

And the two of you were, like, surrounded by a thousand hearts in jars.

And it was in the middle of a worknight for both parties.

Holy shit, had that really come out of his mouth.

Oh, and P.S., he was so hitting Rhage again when he saw the brother next. Even though this wasn’t technically Hollywood’s fault. All the guy had done was pose the question because, clearly, it was something on his own mind.

V was still gonna punch him, though.

“Wow,” Jane said slowly. She rubbed her nose and tucked her blond hair back. “That’s a surprise.”

“Look, forget I ever said anything—”

“No, I won’t. And are you asking because you want them or because you want to know what I think?”

“I want to know what you think.”

And yeah, it was maybe weird that it hadn’t come up before now, but it had been clear Jane couldn’t have any, biologically speaking, when they’d commited to each other, and a lot of shit had been going on since then.

“Well, how do you feel?” she said.

“I asked you first.”

“Is this a game of chicken? Or an intimate conversation?”

They both fell silent. And then at the same time they said, in exactly the same tone:

“It’s not a priority for me.”

“It’s not a priority for me.”

As V laughed, Jane did, too, and he got the impression that as the tension flowed out of his body, something similar was happening for her, her stance loosening, her exhale one of relief.

“Look,” V said, “L.W. and Nalla are cute and all. But I’m interested in them because they’re a part of Wrath’s and Z’s lives, not because I want something like that for us. Unless, you know, it became a big deal for you.”

“Well, I can’t have kids. I mean, I’m technically dead.” She rolled her eyes. “Can I just tell you, every once in a while, when I say something like that, I get existential whiplash? Like, how the hell did this become my life—not that it isn’t a miracle or anything. But jeez.”

“And you’re mated to a demi-god.”

“Did you just promote yourself?”

“Maybe. Can you blame me?” As she laughed, exactly as he’d intended her to, V got serious again. “Adoption is difficult in the vampire race, but it can be an option.”

“True. Very true.” Jane shrugged. “But you know, I was never one of those women who planned out her wedding or saw rainbow mobiles over the cribs of babies. Not that I’ve seen many babies in cribs.” She frowned. “Holy crap. I’ve actually . . . I don’t think I’ve ever seen a baby sleeping in a crib.”

“And you’re not a freak because of that. I can tell what you’re thinking.”

“Yeah.” She rubbed the back of her neck. Then shook herself as if clearing away thoughts that she refused to buy into. “I mean, of course, I’m not. Just because women can be mothers doesn’t mean they have to be.”

V had to smile a little. But then he shook his head. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with us. And actually, I hate that I just felt the need to say that.”

“Compatibility is the issue. If one of us wanted them and the other didn’t? Then that’s a problem.”

Jane came over to him and put her hands on his shoulders. And it was funny: Ordinarily he couldn’t stand people getting very close to him. Not because of some kind of horrific abuse—although his father’s partial castration of him hadn’t been a party, granted—but because tons of contact and closeness was just too much sensation for his brain to process.

With Jane, though, he never felt crowded.

Same with Butch.

Maybe because the two of them seemed to understand the overload thing with him.

“You look worried,” she said as she brushed his hair back and traced the tattoos at his temple with her forefinger.

“I don’t want anything to come between us. Ever.”

“That’s up to you and me, though, right? So why be anxious?”

“Rhage and Mary have been going through a time.”

“Over having babies? Are they okay now?”

“Yeah. I think so.”

“Good.” She leaned her head to one side. “And as for you and me? We can’t predict the future. No one can. So we talk and we sort things out and we keep going. Together. I can’t fathom, right now, a scenario where all of a sudden some biological clock starts ringing and I have a compelling need to do the parent thing. I guess, for me, I don’t feel like anything is missing in my life. There are no hollow spaces that require filling. I have you, I have my work, and I reject the notion entirely that all women are destined to be mothers. Some of us are and some of us aren’t, and the awesome thing is, we get to choose. Same goes for men. So yeah, we just keep talking and everything is going to work out—no matter what the outcome happens to look like.”

Vishous stared down from his greater height, and somehow felt smaller than she was. “You always make sense.”

“I don’t know about that. But I do try to look at everything from all angles and be logical as much as I can—”

“I don’t think I can be a father, Jane.”

His mate shook her head. “I know where you’re going with that. Your parents are not you—and besides, that’s the wrong way to put it. The question is, Do you want to be a father?”

He tried to imagine being weighed down as Wrath and Z were, constantly worrying about some little creature and whether it was killing itself. Yeah, sure, there were good parts to the experience; the joy on his brothers’ faces was very real. But, God, the work.