They wanted Nik first. They wanted me to watch. Wanted me to see. Wanted me wearing his blood.

And I was.

I moved for the bathroom and the shower without another word. I stood under steaming hot water, letting it wash the blood away. I was there a good five minutes before I thought to take my sweatpants off, and it was nearly half an hour before I stepped out nude from behind the curtain. Niko was waiting to toss me a towel.

He leaned against the double vanity as I silently dried off and wrapped the cloth around my hips. He hadn’t made a sound when he came in. I hadn’t heard him or the door over the thundering water, and I fully expected a swat for it. I didn’t get it. “Are you speaking to me yet?” he asked, folding his arms.

“ ‘Goddamn you, you son of a bitch’ was speaking,” I told him wearily.

And that’s what I’d said to him after revealing I was the Last Damn Mohican, my head burrowing into his chest like when I was a kid, and Sophia had told me another bedtime story about how the monster wasn’t under my bed—it was in it. That’s what I’d said to him for not letting me go out the quick and easy way.

That was me, shouldering my part and stepping up to the plate as I’d promised myself I would. Way to be a man. Really showing I’d meant it when I’d said things would be all right. Thinking like an Auphe, I’d said I could do it and I hadn’t, not by a long shot. Only I could manage to pull off being a monster, but not monster enough. I put the toilet lid down and sat, the back of my head thunking back carelessly against the wall.

“Pity party for yourself?” Niko asked dryly, but behind the sarcasm I could see the shadow of worry.

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” I exhaled. “BYOA. Bring your own angst. It’s festive as hell.” The bandage was white against the olive of his skin, but he was alive, and I felt the mental knot unravel a little at that thought.

“Perhaps I’ll join you. My brother . . .” He stopped, took a long calming breath—probably to keep from banging my head repeatedly against the wall—and then started again, voice steady as a rock, worry to anger in a heartbeat: “My brother threw himself between me and the jaws of a shark. And if that wasn’t enough, he asked the shark to eat him first. Can you imagine how I would’ve felt if the shark had taken him up on it?”

“I’m guessing grateful’s not it.” Water—not Niko’s blood, just water—dripped from my hair and down my back. Cool and clean.

“No,” he replied grimly.

“Going to punch him in the nose? I hear he punched you.” The bruising under his eyes was more noticeable in the bright light of the bathroom. It’d been a good punch—short and precise with the exact amount of power I’d meant to go into it. Just as I’d been taught.

“No. That would be far too easy on him.” He loomed. Niko could loom like nobody’s business. “On you.”

“Nik, it wasn’t that big a risk. Hell, no risk at all.” The dripping water pooled in the small of my back, still cool, but not as cool as Niko’s expression. The cooler it got, the more pissed he would be. “We know better now. They won’t kill me.” No matter how much I demanded. “That’s not in their playbook anymore.”

“And as the Auphe are completely sane and utterly logical, we’ll depend on that? No, I don’t think so. It only takes one Auphe to get the taste of your blood and lose sight of its goal.” His lips tightened. “Just one. A shark can be docile, but throw one in an ocean of blood and all it would know is slaughter. The Auphe are the same. You can’t depend on madness. Or worse yet, they might not be as mad as we think. In that case, they might lose patience with vengeance and just take you. Leave the rest of us for later and take you to where I can’t get you back.”

It was true, although I had my doubts the Auphe would ever lose their lust for vengeance. If anyone could be mad and patient, it would be them.

“You’d have done the same thing,” I pointed out, going around an argument I didn’t want to have and crap I didn’t want to think about. Not yet. I wanted a few hours of denial. Just a few. Was that so bad?

“Logic? You? Now I know you’re desperate.” He tossed me another towel from the counter. “And it’s my responsibility to keep you safe. The right of the firstborn. Part and parcel of being the big brother.” His jaw set. “It could’ve taken you, Cal, do you understand? It could’ve taken you or killed you.”

I took the towel and scrubbed at my damp hair before countering, “It could’ve killed you too.” I swiped at my wet neck with the cloth. And it had come close. So goddamn close.

He exhaled, “This is getting us nowhere. And waiting to be picked off one by one isn’t the best strategic plan spawned in history. We need to find them. Go after them for a change. Surprise them.”

Go after them? Okay, that wasn’t just crazy talk. That was Hannibal Lecter eating his own foot with Dijon mustard wacko. “They live in Tumulus, Nik. Hell’s ghetto.” It wasn’t really hell, but it was a place—far from this world—that would make any mythological hell look like an amusement park. Two years of my life had been swallowed up by a nightmare dimension where time ran in all different directions, which explained how I’d come back to Nik only two days after my kidnapping but two years older. That was the one thing I did know about Tumulus. The rest was so thoroughly blocked out, I had only the faintest of impressions left. Rock and sand as red as blood, a sky the color of pus, and the cold of a long-closed tomb. But I didn’t have to remember to know that sticking your dick in a bucket of acid was a better idea than going there.

“I don’t know anything about it.” I twisted the towel in my hands. “I don’t know how big it is. I could open a gate right in the middle of the Auphe, for all I know. We could drop right in their laps, and that’s not like Santa’s lap, okay? We won’t be getting any candy canes out of the deal.” Tumulus. Christ. I felt the towel rip under my grip. “Not to mention the me-going-crazy thing. But, hey, why don’t I mention that?” Only the amnesia, the defense of an adolescent mind, had saved me the other time I’d gone to Tumulus and come back. I knew it wouldn’t save me again.

“Not we, Cal. Me,” Niko said, absolute. He reached over and took the towel from me. “If you can get me through, I could do a little reconnaissance, that’s all. I doubt odds are high that I would walk into the center of the Auphe.”

Him, not me. I should’ve known that and would have if the mere thought of that place didn’t have every nerve in me firing in dread and sheer fight-or-flight panic. Nik would never consider sending me over there. It could’ve been my idea and our last hope and he still wouldn’t have allowed it.

“No.” I was as absolute as Niko. “That’s their territory. You don’t take on someone like the Auphe on their territory. You should know that. You taught it to me. They could find you. Time is weird there. You could be gone a minute or a year. There could be pockets of no air.” The air had been thin there, hadn’t it? High-altitude thin? Hadn’t I struggled to breathe when they had dragged me there from home? Hadn’t I thought I’d suffocate? I felt my lungs suddenly ache for oxygen before a black curtain dropped down, wrapped around the flicker of memory, and took it away. Banished, like always.

“No.” This time I snapped it. “Make that hell no. Fuck no. Any goddamn no you want. I’m not doing it.”

“The time component. I hadn’t considered that.” Which gave away a frustration he didn’t allow to show. Niko didn’t forget to consider all aspects of a situation. Ever. But he’d been on target. We were basically sitting around, plastic ducks lined up at the carnival waiting for a BB gun to take us out. How do you fight an enemy you can’t follow? Can’t locate? They wouldn’t keep playing with us forever. They’d get serious sooner or later, mad or not, tire of the games, and then. . . . yeah, then.