I was distracted from my thoughts by the sensation of a cold and wet nose against the skin of my ankle. Looking down, I saw a sinuous body beside my foot. The head was invisible, hidden under the bottom of my jeans. “Michael,” I growled, “your damn rat’s two seconds away from being flatter than that pizza you’re ordering.”

Hanging up the phone, he moved over to scoop up Godzilla. “He isn’t a rodent,” he said with imperious indignation. “Ferrets are actually members of the—”

“Satan’s inner circle would be my guess. Too bad he wasn’t ripped off along with all of our money,” I said, cutting in before he went any farther. I was learning that to let Michael start lecturing on a topic was to lose massive chunks of time. It had been not even a week since I’d pulled him from that place, but the change in him in those short days was nothing short of astounding. He had gone from withdrawn and indifferent to insatiably curious and not a little mouthy.

I loved every minute of it.

But there were limits to human patience, as well as human ears. And I wasn’t precisely in the mood for a biology lesson about my least favorite animal. Living with it was enough benevolence on my part. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I toed off soaking wet socks and wriggled bone-chilled toes. My sneakers weren’t made for this type for weather. “We should be in Boston by late tomorrow night. You stocked up on rat food?”

Deciding my thirst for ferret knowledge was nonexistent, he labeled me as unteachable and gave up on the subject. “And this uncle Lev who’s not really an uncle will be glad to see you?” came his doubtful question.

“Yeah, he will be. He’s a . . .” I stopped, unsure of exactly how to finish that sentence. I’d wanted to say that he was a good guy, but it was hard to say that about a man who made a living off the blood and thievery of others. “He’s loyal to Anatoly. He’s like family. Sort of.” The curve of my lips was apologetic. “Sorry it’s not more of a normal family for you, Misha.”

“Not your fault.” His eyes focused on me long enough for me to catch the flash of automatic rejection before they dropped to the remote he picked up from the table. “And not my family.”

That merry-go-round again—it still showed no signs of stopping, but I hadn’t given up the hope it might at least one day slow down. “You’re a stubborn little bastard.” I sighed as I twisted and flopped back onto the pillows. “Just like me, believe it or not. If that’s not a family trait, then what the hell is it?”

“Annoying?”

I laughed. It was something else how in the middle of this huge mess the kid could make me laugh—really something else. Rubbing the back of my hand across a five o’clock bristle that just wouldn’t quit, I admitted fondly, “You’ve got me there.”

Considering the loss of our money and the tripling of our travel time, I should’ve been in the worst of humors. But I wasn’t. I might be on the run and broke as hell, but I was still ahead of the game. I was still worlds away from the nightmare the last ten years of my life had been. Then I couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel. Now I could.

It was enough.

The light chose that moment, not surprising, to wipe the complacent smile off my face with a few seemingly innocent words. “Stefan, I was wondering.” He paused casually. “Have you ever had sex?”

Okay, perhaps his words were not so innocent, depending on how rigid your upbringing or how high your monthly porno budget. Covering my eyes with my hand, I gave a groan straight from the grave. “That’s a big subject change from Uncle Lev,” I pointed out hoarsely. “What brought this on?”

“This and that,” he answered with irritating cheer. “There’s my natural curiosity of course. We talked about that a few days ago.”

Yes, we had. And I’d given him the remote to the TV; free educational rein as it were. You would think that would satisfy him, but no.

“And then Fisher . . . that girl, whatever her name was, was . . . you know. Her eyes . . . her mouth. At me.”

I didn’t have to uncover my eyes. I could feel the heat of the blush fill the room. “Flirting,” I filled in hastily before he stumbled on.

Recovering smoothly, he said, “Flirting. She was flirting with me. That sort of thing isn’t done at the Institute. Flirting. Intercourse. It isn’t allowed.”

Intercourse. Jesus. No, I couldn’t imagine that it was. No horny teenagers were going to splash around in Jericho’s carefully crafted gene pool. Although it wouldn’t have been too long before he arranged something himself, a breeding. . . simply to see what it might produce.

“I know the mechanics of course.” He was relentless, horrifyingly relentless. “That was in the biology books. But I was curious about the specifics. So, if you have had sex . . .”

“Yes,” I spit out somewhat defensively before rolling over and covering my head with the pillow. My voice muffled, I went on. “I’ve had girlfriends, and I’ve had sex.” And please God, I begged internally, conveniently forgetting my semiagnostic ways, let that be the end of it. Naturally, it wasn’t.

“Really?”

At the fascinated tone in his voice, I flinched. Then with resignation I lifted the pillow just enough to gaze at him with one reluctant eye. “Yeah. When I was twenty-one, just like the law says.”

Confused, he tilted his head to one side. “Law?”

“It’s like drinking,” I lied without the slightest compunction. “You can’t drink or have sex until you’re twenty-one. We’ll buy you a book before then. A really explicit book with all the gory details. I promise. The Kama Sutra two point oh.”

“Oh. I see.” Settling onto his own bed, he leaned back against the headboard and gave me a look of overt sympathy. “If you’re a virgin, Stefan, you don’t have to be embarrassed or make up stories. Maybe we could both buy a book—or a movie. There seem to be lots and lots of movies. If we watch enough, we’re bound to learn something.”

I had been neatly wedged into a corner by a psychologically adept, offensively trained brat-on-wheels. It wasn’t as if I didn’t want him to know the big picture beyond simple anatomy. And it wasn’t as if I hadn’t been involved in my share of locker room exchanges with my high school buddies. Hell, one of my bases of operation for the past three years had been a strip club. I hadn’t had a girlfriend since Natalie, but that didn’t mean I didn’t get laid now and again. The thing was . . . I was Michael’s brother, not his father, and I didn’t want to get this wrong. It was important.

But if he didn’t have me to ask, then who did he have? Retreating completely under the pillow, I surrendered. “Jesus. All right. Ask away.”

“Great.” The thin layers of cotton and foam insulating my ears did nothing to hide the triumph. “Let me get a pen and some paper. I want to take notes.”

Notes—he was going to take notes. This was shaping up to be a long night.

A long, long night.