"Did you get my flowers?" he asked, and I nodded, moving forward.

"Brian," I said, leaning onto the car. "You look good."

"As do you, dear brother," he said, still smiling. He reached out and patted my stomach. "I believe you've put on a little weight-your wife must be a good cook."

"She is," I said. "She takes very good care of me. Body and, um, soul."

We chuckled together at my use of that fairy-tale word, and I thought again how good it was to know somebody who really understood me. I'd had a brief and tantalizing glimpse of this all-accepting bond on that one night we were together, and now I realized just how much I had given up-and perhaps he did, too, because here he was.

But of course, nothing is ever that simple, especially not with us residents of the Dark Tower, and I felt a small flutter of suspicion. "What are you doing here, Brian?"

He shook his head with pretended self-pity. "Already feeling suspicious? Of your own flesh and blood?"

"Well," I said, "I mean, really. Um, considering…?"

"True enough," he said. "Why don't you invite me in and we'll talk?"

The suggestion was like sudden ice water flung on my neck. Invite him in? Into my house, where my other carefully separate life lay nestled in its bed of clean white cotton? Let a dribble of blood spatter onto the pristine damask of my disguise? It was a terrible idea and it sent a surge of horrid discomfort right through me. Besides, I had never even mentioned to anyone that I had a brother, and in this case the "anyone" was Rita, and she would certainly wonder at the omission. How could I invite him in-into the world of Rita's pancakes, Disney DVDs, and clean sheets? Invite him inside, by all that was unholy, to the Inner Sanctum of Lily Anne? It was not right. It was sacrilegious, a blasphemous violation of…

Of what? Wasn't he my very own brother? Shouldn't that cover over everything else in a blanket of sanctimony? Surely I could trust him-but with everything? With my secret identity, my Fortress of Solitude-and even Lily Anne, my Kryptonite?

"Don't drool, brother," Brian said, interrupting my flight of panicked musing. "It's so very unbecoming."

Without thinking, I dabbed at the corner of my mouth with my sleeve, still floundering desperately for some kind of coherent response. But before I could even arrive at a single syllable, a car horn bleated nearby, and I turned to see Astor's peevish face glaring through the windshield of my car. Cody's head was right next to hers, silent and watchful. I could see Astor squirming and mouthing the words, Come on, Dexter! She beeped again.

"Your stepchildren," Brian said. "Charming little sprats, I'm sure. May I meet them?"

"Um," I said, with really impressive authority.

"Come on, Dexter," Brian said. "I won't eat them." He gave a strange little laugh that did nothing to reassure me, but at the same time I realized that he was, after all, my brother-and Cody and Astor were far from helpless, as they had shown several times. Surely there could be no harm in allowing them to meet their, ah, stepuncle?

"Okay," I said, and I waved back at Astor, beckoning her to come and join us. With very commendable speed they both scrambled out of the car and came over to us, allowing Brian just barely enough time to clamber out of his car and stand beside me.

"Well, well," he said. "What handsome children!"

"He's handsome," Astor said. "I'm just cute until I grow my boobs, and then I'm going to be hot."

"I'm sure you are," Brian said, and he turned his attention to Cody. "And you, little man," he said. "Are you…" And he trickled to a halt as he met Cody's gaze.

Cody stood looking up at Brian, his feet spread apart and his hands hanging stiffly at his sides. Their eyes locked together and I could hear the leathery unfolding of wings between them, the dark and sibilant greeting of twin interior specters. There was a look of belligerent wonder on Cody's face, and he just stared for a long moment and Brian stared back, and finally Cody looked at me. "Like me," he said. "Shadow Guy."

"Amazing," Brian said, and Cody turned back to meet his gaze. "Brother, what have you done?"

"Brother?" Astor said, clearly demanding equal time in the spotlight. "He's your brother?!"

"Yes, my brother," I said to Astor, and added to Brian, "I didn't do anything. Their biological father did."

"He used to beat us up really bad," Astor said matter-of-factly.

"I see," Brian said. "Thus supplying the Traumatic Event that spawns us all."

"I guess so," I said.

"And what have you done with this wonderful untapped potential?" Brian said, his eyes still on Cody.

I was now in very uncomfortable territory, considering that my plan had been to train them in Harry's Way, a course I was now just as determined to avoid, and I found that I really didn't want to talk openly about this, not at this point in time. "Let's go inside," I said. "Would you like a cup of coffee or something?"

Brian turned slow and empty eyes away from Cody and onto me. "I'd be delighted, brother," he said, and with another glance at the children, he turned and walked toward my front door.

"You never said you had a brother," Astor said.

"Like us," Cody added.

"You never asked," I said, feeling strangely defensive about the whole thing.

"You should have said," Astor said, and Cody looked at me with an equal, unspoken accusation, as if I had violated some basic trust.

But Brian was already standing at the front door, so I turned away and followed. They came along behind, clearly fuming, and it occurred to me that this would not be the last time I heard similar words. What would I say to Rita when she asked the same thing, as she certainly would? I mean, of course I had never told them I had a brother. Considering that Brian was just like me but without any of Harry's restraints on him, a kind of Dexter Unbound, what could I possibly say? The only really appropriate introduction would be, "This is my brother-run for your life!"

And in any case, I had not anticipated ever seeing him again after that one brief and dizzying encounter. I had not even known if he would survive. He clearly had-but why had he come back? I would have thought it made more sense to stay far away; Deborah would certainly remember him. Theirs had not been the sort of encounter one forgets, and she was, after all, exactly the kind of person who took great professional satisfaction from arresting people like him.

I knew very well, too, that he had not come back because of any kind of sentimental feelings for me, either. He did not have sentimental feelings. So why was he here, and what did I do about it?

Brian reached the front door and turned to look at me, raising one eyebrow. Apparently, the first thing I had to do about it was to open the door and let him in. I did; he gave me a small bow and entered, and Cody and Astor trooped in after him.

"What a lovely home," Brian said, looking around the living room. "So very homey."

There were heaps of DVDs lying across the tattered couch, and a pile of socks on the floor, and two empty pizza boxes on the coffee table. Rita had been in the hospital for nearly three days, and naturally enough she had not had the energy to clean up since she returned this morning. And although I do prefer a neat environment, I had been far too distracted myself to do anything about it, and the place really was not at its best. In fact, it was a frightful mess.

"I'm sorry," I said to Brian. "We've been, um-"

"Yes, I know, the blessed event," he said. "Into each life some domesticity must fall."

"What does that mean?" Astor demanded.

"Dexter?" Rita called from the bedroom. "Is that-Is somebody with you?"

"It's me," I said.

"His brother is here," Astor said belligerently.