“It means I have your phone number.”

“Ah, yes, you do-” Her voice caught as he shifted around. “Wait, are you…in bed?”

“Yeah. And before you go any farther, you don’t want to know.”

“I don’t want to know what?”

“How much I’m not wearing.”

“Er…” As she hesitated, he knew she was smiling again. And probably blushing. “I so won’t ask.”

“Wise of you. It’s just me and the sheets-oops, did I just spill that?”

“Yes. Yes, you did.” Her voice got a little lower, as if she were imagining him naked. And not minding the mental pinup in the slightest.

“Ehlena…” He stopped himself, his symphath urges giving him the self-control to slow down. Yes, Rehv wanted her as naked as he was. But even more than that, he wanted her on the phone.

“What?” she said.

“Your father…has he been ill for long?”

“I, ah…yes, yes, he has. He’s schizophrenic. We’ve got him on meds now, though, and he’s better.”

“God…damn. That’s got to be really difficult. Because he’s there but he’s not there, right.”

“Yes…that’s exactly what it feels like.”

It was kind of the way he went through life, his symphath side a constant, other reality that dogged him as he tried to get through the nights as a normal.

“So do you mind if I ask,” she said with care, “what you need the dopamine for? There’s no immediate diagnosis in your medical record.”

“Probably because Havers has been treating me forever.”

Ehlena laughed awkwardly. “Guess that must be why.”

Shit, what the hell did he tell her.

The symphath in him said, Whatever, just lie to her. Trouble was, from out of nowhere there was another competing voice in his brain, one that was unfamiliar and faint, but utterly compelling. Because he had no idea what it was, however, he led with his routine.

“I have Parkinson’s. Or the vampire equivalent of it, as it were.”

“Oh…I’m sorry. That’s the cane you use, then.”

“My balance is bad.”

“The dopamine’s doing you well, though. You have almost no tremors.”

That quiet voice in his head morphed into an odd ache in the center of his chest, and for a moment he dropped pretense and actually spoke the truth. “I have no idea what I would do without that drug.”

“My father’s medications have been a miracle.”

“Are you his sole caretaker?” When she mm-hmed, he asked, “Where is the rest of your family?”

“It’s just him and me.”

“So you’re carrying a hell of a burden.”

“Well, I love him. And if the roles were reversed, he would do the same. It’s what parents and children do for each other.”

“Not always. Clearly you come from good people.” Before he could stop himself, he continued, “But that’s why you’re lonely, isn’t it. You get guilty if you leave him even for an hour, except if you stay home you can’t ignore the fact that your life is passing you by. You’re trapped and screaming, but you wouldn’t change a thing.”

“I have to go.”

Rehv squeezed his eyes shut, that ache in his chest spreading through his whole body like wildfire across dry grass. He willed a light on as the darkness became too symbolic of his own existence.

“It’s just…I know what it’s like, Ehlena. Not for the same reasons…but I get that whole separated thing. You know, the idea that you’re watching everybody else go through life… Oh, fuck, whatever. I hope you sleep well-”

“That is how I feel a lot of the time.” Her voice was gentle now, and he was glad she got what he’d been trying to say, even though he’d been as eloquent as an alley cat.

Now he was the one who grew awkward. He wasn’t used to talking like this…or feeling as he did. “Listen, I’m going to let you get some rest. I’m glad you called.”

“You know…so am I.”

“And, Ehlena?”

“Yes?”

“I think you’re right. It’s not a good idea for you to get involved with anyone right now.”

“Really?”

“Yup. Good day.”

There was a pause. “Good…day. Wait-”

“What?”

“Your arm. What are you going to do about your arm?”

“Don’t worry, it’ll be fine. But thank you for the concern. It means a lot.”

Rehv hung up first and put the phone down on the mink duvet. Closing his eyes, he left the light on. And didn’t sleep at all.

Back at the Brotherhood compound, Wrath gave up the idea that he was going to feel better about the situation with Beth anytime soon. Hell, he could spend the next month stewing on his spindly chair, but that would only get him a numb ass.

And meanwhile, the rolling stones out in the hall were getting mossy and cranky.

He willed the double doors wide and as a unit his brothers came to attention. As he looked across the pale blue expanse of the study to their big, hard bodies out by the balcony, he knew them not by face or clothing or expression, but by the echo of each one in his blood.

The ceremonies in the Tomb that had bound them all together resonated no matter how long ago they had been done.

“Don’t just stand there,” he said as the Brotherhood stared back at him. “I didn’t open those fuckers to turn myself into a zoo exhibit.”

The brothers came in on their heavy boots-except for Rhage, who was in flip-flops, his standard house footwear no matter the season. Each of the warriors took up his usual station in the room, with Z going over to stand by the fireplace and V and Butch parking it on a recently reinforced pencil-legged sofa. Rhage came over to the desk in a series of flip-flip-flips and hit speaker on the phone, letting his fingers do the walking to get Phury on the horn.

No one said anything about all the papers on the floor. No one tried to pick them up. It was as if the mess weren’t there, and that was how Wrath preferred it.

As he shut the doors with his mind, he thought of Tohr. The brother was in the house, just down the hall of statues by only a few doors, but he was on a different continent. Inviting him wasn’t an option-more like a cruelty, given where his head was at.

“Hello?” came Phury’s voice out of the phone.

“We’re all here,” Rhage said before unwrapping a Tootsie Pop and flip-flip-flipping it over to an ugly-ass green armchair.

The monstrosity was Tohr’s, moved up from the office for John Matthew to sleep in back after Wellsie had been murdered and Tohrment had disappeared. Rhage tended to use the thing because at his weight, it was really the safest option for his ass, steel-bolted sofas included.

With everyone settled, the room went quiet except for the crunching grind of Hollywood’s molars on that cherry thing he had in his piehole.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Rhage finally groaned around his lollipop. “Just tell us. Whatever it is. I’m getting ready to scream over here. Is someone dead?”

No, but it sure as shit felt like he’d killed something.

Wrath glanced in the brother’s direction, then looked at each one of them. “I’m going to be your partner, Hollywood.”

“Partner? As in…” Rhage glanced around the room as if checking to see whether everyone else had heard what he had. “You ain’t talking about gin rummy, are you.”

“No,” Z said quietly. “I don’t believe he is.”

“Holy. Shit.” Rhage took another lollipop out of the pocket of his black fleece. “Is this legal?”

“It is now,” V muttered.

Phury spoke up from the phone. “Wait, wait…is this to replace me?”

Wrath shook his head even though the Brother couldn’t see him. “It’s to replace a lot of people we’ve lost.”

Conversation bubbled up like a can of Coke had just been cracked open. Butch, V, Z, Rhage all started talking at once until a tinny voice cut through the chatter:

“I want to come back, too, then.”

Everyone looked at the phone-except for Wrath, who stared over at Z in order to gauge the guy’s reaction. Zsadist had no trouble showing anger. Ever. But he hid concern and worry like the stuff was loose money and he was surrounded by muggers: As his twin’s statement resonated, he was in full self-protection mode, tightening up, emitting absolutely nothing in terms of emotion.