Whores deserved respect, and his were going to get it.

“Teach him a lesson first,” Rehv growled.

“Don’t you worry about that.”

“Shit…I blame myself,” Rehv murmured as he reached forward and picked up his envelope opener. The thing was in the shape of a dagger and as sharp as a weapon, too. “We should have killed him sooner.”

“She seemed as if she was better.”

“Maybe she was just hiding it better.”

The four of them sat in the quiet for a bit. There were a lot of losses in their profession-people turning up dead was hardly a news flash-but for the most part, he and his crew were the minus signs in the equations: They did the taking out. A loss of their own by someone else sat badly.

“You want the update on tonight?” Xhex asked.

“Not yet. Got a little news of my own to share.” Forcing his head into gear, he looked at Trez and iAm. “What I’m about to say will make things very messy, and I want to give you both a chance to leave. Xhex, you don’t get that option. Sorry.”

Trez and iAm stayed put, which did not surprise him in the slightest. Trez also popped a middle finger at him. Not a shocker either.

“I went to Connecticut,” Rehv said.

“You also went to the clinic,” Xhex added. “Why?”

GPS sucked sometimes. Hard to have any privacy. “Forget the fucking clinic. Listen, I need you to do a job for me.”

“Job as in…?”

“Think of Chrissy’s boyfriend as a cocktail before dinner.”

This got a cold smile out of her. “Tell me.”

He stared at the point of the envelope opener, thinking that he and Wrath had laughed because they both had one: The king had come in to visit after the raids during the summer, to discuss council business, and had seen the thing out on the desk. Wrath had joked that in their day jobs they both led by the blade, even if they had a pen in their hands.

Wasn’t that the truth. Although Wrath had morality on his side and Rehv had only self-interest.

So it was not with virtue that he’d made his decision and chosen the course. It was, as usual, what benefited him most.

“It’s not going to be easy,” he murmured.

“The fun ones never are.”

Rehv focused on the sharp point of the opener. “This one…is not for fun.”

With the night closing down and her shift ending, Ehlena was antsy. Date time. Decision time. The male was supposed to come and pick her up at the clinic in twenty minutes.

God, she was back to waffling again.

His name was Stephan. Stephan, son of Tehm, although she didn’t know him or his family. He was a civilian, not an aristocrat, and he’d come in with his cousin, who’d cut his hand splitting logs for firewood. While she’d been doing the discharge paperwork, she’d talked to Stephan about the kinds of things single people talked about: He liked Radiohead; she did, too. She liked Indonesian food; he did, too. He worked in the human world, doing computer programming, thanks to virtual commuting. She was a nurse, duh. He lived at home with his parents, the only son in a solidly civilian family-or at least they’d sounded solidly civilian, his father doing construction for vampire contractors, his mother teaching the Old Language freelance.

Nice, normal. Trustworthy.

Considering what the aristocrats had done to her father’s sanity, she figured that all seemed like a good bet, and when Stephan had asked her out for a coffee, she’d said yes, they’d agreed on tonight, and exchanged cell phone numbers.

But what was she going to do? Call him and say she couldn’t because of a family situation? Go anyway, and worry about her father?

A quick call to Lusie from the locker room, though, and the news from home was favorable: Ehlena’s father had had a long rest and was now calmly working on his papers at his desk.

Half an hour at an all-night diner. Maybe a shared scone. What was the harm?

As she decided to go once and for all, she didn’t appreciate the image that flashed through her mind. Rehv’s bare chest with those red star tattoos on it was not what she needed to be thinking about as she resolved to go on a date with another male.

What she needed to concentrate on was getting out of her uniform and at least nominally improving her appearance.

With the overday staff funneling in and those who had been on during the night leaving, she changed from her uniform into the skirt and sweater she’d brought with her-

She’d forgotten her shoes.

Great. White crepe soles were so sexy.

“What’s wrong?” Catya said.

She turned around. “Any chance these two white boats on my feet don’t totally ruin this outfit?”

“Er…honestly? They’re not that bad.”

“You so don’t lie well.”

“I gave it a shot.”

Ehlena packed her uniform into her bag, redid her hair, and checked the makeup situation. Of course, she’d forgotten her eyeliner and mascara as well, so the cavalry was out of horses on that front, so to speak.

“I’m glad you’re going,” Catya said as she erased the night roster from the whiteboard.

“Considering you’re my boss, that makes me nervous. I’d rather have you happy to see me coming into the clinic.”

“No, it’s not about work. I’m glad you’re going out tonight.”

Ehlena frowned and looked around. By some miracle, they were alone. “Who says I’m going anywhere but home?”

“A female going home doesn’t change out of her uniform here. And she doesn’t worry about how her footwear goes with her skirt. I’ll spare you the who-is-he.”

“That’s a relief.”

“Unless you want to volunteer?”

Ehlena laughed out loud. “No, I’d rather keep it private. But if it goes anywhere…I’ll spill.”

“And I’ll keep you to that.” Catya went over to her locker and just stared at it.

“You okay?” Ehlena said.

“I hate this damn war. I hate having the dead come in here, and seeing the pain they went through on their faces.” Catya opened the locker and got busy getting her parka out. “Sorry, don’t mean to be a downer.”

Ehlena went over and put her hand on the female’s shoulder. “I know just how you feel.”

There was a moment between them as their eyes clung to each other’s. And then Catya cleared her throat.

“Right, off you go. Your male awaits.”

“He’s picking me up here.”

“Ohhh, maybe I’ll just hang around and have a cigarette outside.”

“You don’t smoke.”

“Drat, foiled again.”

On her way to the exit, Ehlena checked in at the registration desk to make sure there was nothing else she needed to do with the handoff to the new shift. Satisfied everything was in order, she went through the doors and up the stairs until she was finally free of the clinic.

The night was out of the cool zip code and into chill city, the air smelling blue to her, if the color did indeed have a scent: There was just something so fresh and icy and clear as she breathed deep and exhaled in soft clouds. With each inhale, she felt as if she were taking the sapphire sprawl of the heavens above into her lungs and that the stars were sparks skipping through her body.

As the last of the nurses departed, dematerializing or driving off, depending on what they had planned, she said good-bye to the stragglers. Then Catya came and went.

Ehlena stamped her feet and checked her watch. The male was ten minutes late. No big deal.

Leaning back against the aluminum siding, she felt her blood sing in her veins, an odd freedom swelling in her chest as she thought about going out somewhere with a male on her own-

Blood. Veins.

Rehvenge hadn’t had his arm treated.

The thought slammed into her head and lingered like the echo of a big noise. He hadn’t dealt with that arm. There had been nothing in the record about the infection, and Havers was as scrupulous about his notes as he was about the staff uniforms and the cleanliness of the patient rooms and the organization of the supply closets.