“How much are you doing? For real.”

It was a while before the guy answered. And when Assail finally did, it was clear the delay had been a result of the enormous addition and multiplication involved in the math.

Talk about carrying the ones and the fives.

Vishous whistled softly. “Okay, I’ma be straight with you. Although your average vampire has a tremendous leg up on humans when it comes to health, you can still blow your heart up doing that much. Or your brain. At the very least, at this level, you’re going to get seriously paranoid, if you aren’t already, and no wonder you can’t sleep.”

Assail rubbed under his nose, and then looked at the blood that had dried on his fingers.

“When you’re ready,” V said, “call us. You’re going to want to detox under medical supervision and we can do this discreetly. And don’t waste my time or yours denying the extent of your problem or trying to pretty this shit up. You got yourself an ugly parasite, and if you don’t get on top of it, it’s going to get on top of you. Your grave, specifically.”

“How long?”

“Do you have before you tach out and wake up dead?”

“Does the detox last?”

“Depends on how well it’s managed. The physical withdrawal isn’t life-threatening, but the psychological shit is going to make you wish you were dead.”

Assail remained silent for quite a while, and since V itched for a cigarette, he gave in and lit one up.

“I know about addictions.” V glanced at the glowing end of his hand-rolled. “Thank God vampires don’t get cancer, true? So I’m not judging you. And you know where to find me when you’re ready.”

“Maybe I am getting paranoid.”

“How so?”

“I was at Naasha’s house before I came here.”

“And?”

The male shook his head back and forth. “I had this sense of impending death in that house.”

“That hellren of hers is in poor health.”

“Indeed.” Assail glanced over, his silvery, moonlight-colored eyes flashing. “But it wouldn’t surprise me if he was helped into his state of ashes. Or at least that was what I was thinking earlier.”

“Inheritances are powerful things.”

“Aye.” Assail shook himself as if he were pulling back from an internal ledge. “Would you care to pick up your guns the now?”

Vishous exhaled a stream of smoke away from the guy. “That’s why I’m here.”

“Please move your vehicle inside when you’re ready. We shall load you up there.”

As Assail looked over, V cut him off. “I got your money—don’t worry. And the medical advice is free.”

“Such a gentlemale you are, Vishous.”

“Not even close. Now let’s get this over with.”

As the Brotherhood household gathered for Last Meal in the grand dining room, Mary went over and sat next to Marissa. “You mind if we talk a little shop before we eat?”

Marissa put her wineglass down and nodded with a glowing smile. “I’m sorry I left work early tonight, but Butch took me out for a date.”

“Oh, you guys deserve it! Where’d you go?”

“Nowhere special. Just a pizza place in the suburbs. He was right—it was the best pepperoni-and-onion I’ve ever had. He’s helping V unpack some supplies and then he’ll be here just for the conversation as I am. It was so good to just have a little time off together, you know?”

“Totally. Rhage and I are going out tomorrow night, actually.” Mary cleared her throat. “Which is part of what I need to talk to you about. I’ve finally made a breakthrough with Bitty.”

“You did?” Marissa leaned in for a quick hug. “I knew you could do it! That’s wonderful. There’s so much for her to process.”

“Yes.” Mary eased back. “But there’s something I want to have checked out. Medically, that is. It’s not emergent or anything . . . it’s just that she’s thirteen, not nine.”

As Marissa’s brows jumped in surprise, the female murmured, “Are you sure?”

Mary went into everything, including what Bitty had said about her mom telling her to lie about her age, and the visit to the grave site and the supermarket.

Marissa frowned. “You took her to your mother’s grave?”

“She wanted to see it. She asked to. Her treatment is going to have to involve more than just sitting in a chair talking. She’s incredibly intelligent, but she’s led a life that has been so remote, so full of violence that if she’s got any hope of getting through her grieving in one piece and transitioning into the world, she’s going to need exposure.”

“There are group field trips to accomplish things like that.”

“She’d never been to a supermarket before.” As Marissa recoiled, Mary nodded. “She didn’t know what automatic doors were. She’d never seen downtown. She didn’t tell me at the time, but when Rhage and I took her for ice cream last night? She’d never been in a restaurant or a café before.”

“I had no idea.”

“No one did.” Mary looked at the thirty-foot-long dining room table with all its finery. “She and her mother kept quiet because they were afraid. And the thing is, I’m worried about Bitty’s health. I know that she had treatment at Havers’s for that broken leg, and there was a work-up at that point. But that was a while ago. I want someone to take a look at her sometime soon, and I want to bring her to the clinic here, not to Havers’s.”

As Marissa started to protest, Mary put her hand up. “Hear me out. Her mother just died there. You think she needs to head back to that facility anytime soon? And yes, it can wait a month or two, but you’ve seen how frail she is. Even if you assume vampires are under-developed compared to humans of similar age until the change, she’s alarmingly small. Ehlena has a great background with young vampires, Doc Jane has a perfect bedside manner, and we can easily bring Bitty into the training center, do the work-up there, and take her out again as soon as it’s over.”

Marissa fiddled with her fork. “I can see the logic.”

“We can even do it tomorrow night if Doc Jane has some time. We’re taking Bitty to dinner with us.”

“You and Rhage?”

“It’s just like the ice cream trip. She really likes him.” Mary smiled. “She calls him a big friendly dog.”

Marissa’s frown did not inspire confidence. And neither did the period of silence that was filled with talk from other people as folks filed into the room in pairs and small groups.

“Marissa. I know what I’m doing here. And more to the point, the proof that I’m on the right track with her is the fact that she’s finally opening up. She’s been with us for how long?”

“Look, I’m not qualified to tell you how to do your job—and I guess that’s my problem. I’m a manager, I make the trains run on time. I do not have a master’s in social work—so I’d like to talk to some of the others. You’re very good at your job, and I can’t argue with the results, especially in Bitty’s case. But I don’t want you to get in over your head—and I’m a little worried about that.”

“How so?” Mary put her hands up. “I admit I might have treated the situation with her mother’s passing in a different way if I’d known—”

“You’re taking an orphan out for ice cream. To your mother’s grave site. To dinner with your mate. You don’t think there’s a possibility that you’re doing this for reasons that are personal in nature?”

“Lemme see. Come on, lemme see.”

Out in front of the mansion, Rhage elbowed Butch’s body to the side so he could check out what was in the back of the Hummer. When he got a gander at the display of hardware, he laughed under his breath.

“Not bad.” He picked up one of the Glock autoloaders out of its egg-carton padding and ran a check on it, popping out the clip, pumping the trigger, assessing the weight and sight. “How many did you get?”

V popped a second steel briefcase. “There are another eight in here. Sixteen total.”