Time dragged and Butch prowled around the Pit while waiting for V to get back. Finally, unable to shake the Scotch haze and still dizzy as shit, he went in and lay down on his bed. As he closed his eyes, it was more to dim the light than with any hope of sleep.

Surrounded by a dense quiet, he thought about his sister Joyce and that new baby of hers. He knew where the baptism had been held today: Same place he'd been dipped. Same place all the O'Neals had been dipped.

Original sin washed away.

He put his hand on his stomach, on that black scar, and thought that evil had certainly come back for him, hadn't it. Ended up right inside of him.

Palming his cross, he fisted the gold until it cut into his skin, and decided he needed to go back to church. Regularly.

He was still gripping the crucifix when exhaustion took him by stealth, leaching his thoughts away, replacing them with a nothingness he would have been relieved by if he'd been conscious.

Sometime later, he woke up and glanced at the clock. He'd slept for two hours straight, and now he was in the hangover phase of things, his head one big, dull ache, his eyes supersensitive to the light coming in under the door. He rolled over and stretched, his spine cracking.

An eerie moan drifted down the hall.

"V?" he said.

Another moan.

"You okay there, V?"

From out of nowhere, there was a crashing noise, like something heavy had been dropped. Then choking sounds, the kind you made when you were too hurt to cry out and scared to death. Butch sprang off his bed and ran into the living room.

"Jesus Christ!"

Vishous had thrown himself off the couch and landed face-first on the coffee table, scattering bottles and glasses. As he flailed around, his eyes were squeezed shut and his mouth gaped with screams unvoiced.

"Vishous! Wake up!" Butch grabbed on to those heavy arms, only to realize V had taken his glove off: That god-awful hand of his was glowing like the sun, burning holes in the wood of the table and the leather of the couch.

"Fuck!" Butch leaped out of the strike zone as he nearly got swiped.

All he could do was call out Vishous's name as the brother struggled in the grip of whatever monster held him. Finally, something got through. Maybe the sound of Butch's voice. Maybe V knocked himself around hard enough to wake himself up.

As Vishous opened his eyes, he was panting and shivering, covered with fear sweat.

"My man?" When Butch knelt down and touched his friend on the shoulder, V shrank back, cowering. Which was the scariest part. "Hey... easy, you're home. You're safe."

V's stare, usually so cool and calm, was glassy. "Butch... oh, my God. Butch... the death. The death... The blood down the front of my shirt. A shirt of mine..."

"Okay, just go easy. We're going to cool out here, big guy." Butch clamped a hand under V's right armpit and hoisted the brother back on the couch. Poor bastard flopped against the leather cushions like a rag doll. "Let's get you a drink."

Butch headed for the galley kitchen, picked up a fairly clean glass off the counter, and rinsed it out. He filled the thing with cold water, even though V would no doubt rather it be Goose.

When he came back, Vishous was lighting up a cigarette with hands that were like flags in the wind.

As V took the glass, Butch said, "You want something stronger?"

"Nah. This is good. Thanks, man."

Butch sat down on the other end of the sofa. "V, I think it's time we did something about this nightmare thing."

"Not going there." V inhaled deeply and let out a steady stream of smoke from his lips. "Besides, I've got good news. Kind of."

Butch would rather have stayed on the V dreamland shit, but that was clearly not happening. "So talk. And you should have woken me up as soon as you¡ª"

"Tried. You were out cold. Anyway..." Another exhale. This one more normal. "You know I've looked into your past, right?"

"I figured."

"Had to know what was doing, if you were going to live with me¡ªwith us. I traced your blood back to Ireland. Lot of pasty-white bog people in your veins, cop."

Butch got real still. "Did you find... anything else?"

"Not when I searched nine months ago. And not when I retraced you an hour ago."

Oh. Buzz kill. Although, Christ, what was he thinking? He wasn't a vampire. "So why are we talking about this?"

"You sure you don't have any weird-ass stories in your family? Especially back in Europe? You know, some female in your line getting pinched at night? Maybe a pregnancy that came out of the blue? Like someone's daughter who disappeared and maybe came back with a child?"

Actually, there hadn't been a lot of O'Neal lore passed along. For his first twelve years, his mother had been busy raising six kids and working as a nurse. Then after Janie's murder, Odell had been too shattered to carry stories. And his father? Yeah, right. Pulling nine to five for the telephone company and then hitting the night shift as a security guard didn't make for a lot of quality chat time with the kidlets: When Eddie O'Neal had been home, he'd been drinking or asleep.

"I don't know of anything."

"Well, here's the deal, Butch." V inhaled, then talked through the smoke as he breathed out. "I want to see if you've got any of us in you."

Whoa. "But you know my family tree, right? And wouldn't my blood tests at the clinic, or even throughout my life, have shown something?"

"Not necessarily and I have a very precise way of finding out. It's called ancestor regression." V brought up his glowing hand and clenched it into a fist. "Goddamn, I hate this thing. But this is how we do it."

Butch eyed the scorched coffee table. "You're going to torch me like kindling."

"I'll be able to channel it to the purpose. Not saying it will be fun for you, but it shouldn't kill you. Bottom line? That shit with Marissa and the feeding and the way you reacted to it? The fact that you're telling me you throw off scent around her? Plus, god knows, you're aggressive enough. Who knows what we'll find."

Something warm tingled in Butch's chest. Something like hope. "And what if I have a vampire relative?"

"Then we might..."V took a very deep drag on the hand-rolled. "We might be able to turn you."

Holy. Shit. "I thought you couldn't do that."

V nodded over at a thigh-high stack of leather volumes by the computers. "There is something in the Chronicles. If you've got some of our blood in you, we can give it a shot. It's very risky, but we could try."

Man, Butch was so on board with that plan. "Let's do the regression. Now."

"Can't. Even if you have the DNA, we need to get clearance from the Scribe Virgin before we even think about jump-starting any kind of change. That kind of shit is not to be done lightly, and there's the added complication of what the lessers did to you. If she won't allow us to proceed, it won't matter whether you've got relatives with fangs, and I don't want to put you through an ancestor regression if there's nothing we can do about it."

"How long until we know?"

"Wrath said he'd talk to her tonight."

"Jesus, V. I hope¡ª"

"I want you to take some time and think about this. The regression is a bitch to go through. Your brain's going to stroke out on us and I understand the pain's no party. And you might want to talk to Marissa about it, also."

Butch thought of her. "Oh, I'll get through it. You don't worry about that."

"Don't get cocky¡ª"

"I'm not. This has to work."

"Might well not, though." V stared at the lit tip of his hand-rolled. "Assuming you come out the other-side of the regression okay, and we can find a living relative of yours to use to jump-start the change, you could die in the middle of the transition. There's only a small chance you'll survive."

"I'll do it."

V laughed in a short burst. "I can't decide whether you have serious balls or a death wish."

"Never underestimate the power of self-hatred, V. It's a hell of a motivator. Besides, we both know what the only other option is."

As their stares met, Butch knew V was thinking the same thing he was: No matter what the risks were, anything was better than Vishous having to kill him outright because he had to leave.

"I'm going to Marissa now."

Butch paused on his way out the door to the tunnel. "You sure there isn't something we can do about these dreams of yours?"

"You got enough on your plate."

"I'm an excellent multitasker, buddy."

"Go to your female, cop. Don't worry about me."

"You're such a pain in the ass."

"Said the SIG to the Glock."

Butch cursed and hit the tunnel, trying not to be totally pumped. When he got to the big house, he went up to the second floor and passed by Wrath's study. On impulse, he knocked on the jamb. After the king called out, Butch was in there maybe ten minutes tops before he went on to Marissa's room.

He was about to knock when someone said, "She's not there."

He pivoted around and saw Beth coming out of the sitting room at the end of the hall, a vase of flowers in her hands.

"Where is Marissa?" he asked.

"She went with Rhage to check out her new place."

"What new place?"

"She's rented a house for herself. About seven miles from here."

Shit. She was moving out. And she hadn't even told him. "Exactly where is it?"

After Beth gave him the address and assured him the rental was safe, his first instinct was to race over there, but he canned that idea. Wrath was going to the Scribe Virgin right now. Maybe they could get the regression over with and there'd be good news to share on the other side.

"She's coming back tonight, right?" Man, he wished she'd told him about the move out.

"Definitely. And Wrath is going to ask Vishous to work on the security system, so she'll stay here until that's done." Beth frowned. "Hey... you don't look so good. Why don't you come down and get some food with me?"

He nodded, even though he had no idea what she'd said to him. "You know I love her, right?" he blurted, not sure why he was going there.

"Yes, I do. And she loves you."

Then why didn't she talk to him?

Yeah, and just how easy had he made that for her lately? He'd freaked out about the feeding. Taken her virginity while he was drunk. Hurt her in the process. Christ.

"I'm not hungry," he said. "But I'll watch while you eat."

Back at the Pit, Vishous stepped out of the shower and yelped like a nancy, slamming back against the marble wall.

Wrath was standing in the bathroom, a big leather-clad male the size of the goddamned Escalade.

"Christ, my lord. Scare a brother, why don't you."

"Little jumpy there, V, huh?" Wrath handed over a towel. "So I just came back from the Scribe Virgin."

V paused with the terry cloth under an arm. "What did she say?"

"She wouldn't see me."

"Goddamn it, why?" He wrapped up his hips.

"Some shit like 'wheels turning.' Who knows. One of the Chosen met me." Wrath's jaw went so tight it was a wonder he could talk at all. "Anyway, I go back tomorrow night. Straight up, it doesn't look good."

As frustration spiked, V felt his eyelid start to flicker. "Shit."

"Yeah." There was a pause. "And while we're on the subject of crap, let's talk about you."

"Me?"

"You're strung tighter than cable and your eye's¡ªtwitching."

"Yeah, because you just Friday-the-thirteenthed me." V pushed past the king and went into his bedroom.

As he put his glove on his hand, Wrath leaned against the jamb. "Look, Vishous..."

Oh, they were so not doing this. "I'm fine."

"Sure you are. So here's the deal. I'm giving you till the end of the week. If you haven't straightened up by then, I'm taking you out of rotation."

"What?"

"Vacation time. Can you say R&R, my brother?"

"Are you out of your mind? You realize we're down to four of us now with Tohr being gone, true? You can't afford to¡ª"

"Lose you. Yeah, I know. And so you're not going to get killed because of whatever's going on in that head of yours. Or not going on, as is the case."

"Look, we're all on edge, what with¡ª"

"Butch came by a little while ago. Told me about your repeating nightmare."

"That cocksucker." Man, he was going to pound his roommate into the ground like a stake for blabbing.

"He was right to tell me. You should have told me."

V went over to his bureau, where his rolling papers and his tobacco were. He spun one up fast, needing something in his mouth. It was either plug himself up or keep swearing.

"You need to get checked out, V."

"By who? Havers? No CAT scan or lab workup is going to tell me what's wrong, because it's not physical. Look, I'll get it together." He glanced over his shoulder and exhaled. "I'm the smart one, remember? I'll figure this out."

Wrath lowered his wraparounds, his pale green eyes burning like neon penlights. "You've got a week to fix this, or I'm going to the Scribe Virgin about you. Now get your ass dressed. I need to talk to you about something else involving the cop."

As the king took off for the living room, V drew hard on his cigarette and then looked around for his ashtray. Goddamn it, he'd left the thing out front.

He was about to head to the living room when he looked at his hand. Bringing the gloved nightmare up to his mouth, he peeled the leather off with his teeth and stared at his radiant curse.

Shit. The illumination was getting brighter and brighter every day.

Holding his breath, he pressed the lit cigarette into his palm. As the flaming end met his skin, the white glow beneath flared even stronger, backlighting the tattooed warnings until they appeared to be in 3-D.

The hand-rolled was consumed in a burst of light, the sting tingling his nerve endings. When only dust remained, he blew it off into the air, watching the little cloud rush forward and disintegrate into nothing.

Marissa took a tour through the vacant house and ended up back in the living room, where she'd started. The place was much bigger than she'd thought, especially given the six underground bedroom suites. God, she'd taken the lease because it had seemed so much smaller than her brother's¡ªthan Havers's¡ªbut size was so relative. This Colonial felt huge. And very empty.

As she pictured herself moving in, she realized that she'd never actually been in a house alone before. Back home, there had always been servants and Havers and patients and medical staff. And the Brotherhood's mansion was likewise full of people.

"Marissa?" Rhage's heavy boots came up behind her. "Time to go."

"I haven't measured the rooms yet."

"Have Fritz come back and do it."

She shook her head. "This is my house. I want to."

"Then there's always tomorrow night. But we have to get going now."

She took a last look around, then headed for the door. "Okay. Tomorrow."

They dematerialized back to the mansion, and as they came in through the vestibule, she could smell roast beef and hear talk drifting out of the dining room. Rhage smiled at her and started to disarm, stripping his dagger holster off his shoulders as he called out for Mary.

"Hey."

Marissa wheeled around. Butch was in the shadows of the billiards room, leaning on the pool table, a squat crystal glass in his hand. He was dressed in a fine suit and a pale blue tie... but as she stared at him, all she saw was him naked and propped up on his arms over her.

Just as heat swirled, his eyes shifted away. "You look different in pants."

"What¡ªoh. They're Beth's."

He took a drink from his glass. "Heard you're renting a place."

"Yes, I've just come from¡ª"

"Beth told me. So how much longer have you got here? A week? Less? Probably less, right."

"Probably. I was going to tell you, but I just rented it, and with all the other drama, I didn't have time to. I wasn't hiding it from you or anything." When he didn't reply, she said, "Butch? Are you¡ªare we... okay?"

"Yeah." He looked down into his Scotch. "Or at least we're going to be."

"Butch... Look, about what happened¡ª"

"You know I don't care about the fire."

"No, I mean... in your bedroom."

"The sex?"

She flushed and dropped her eyes. "I want to try it again."

When he said nothing, she glanced up.

His hazel stare was intense. "You know what I want? Just once, I want to be enough for you. Just... once."

"You are¡ª"

He spread out his arms and glanced down at his body. "Not like this I'm not. But I'm going to make it so I can be. I'm going to take care of this problem of me."

"What are you talking about?"

"Will you let me escort you in to dinner?" As if to distract her, he came forward and offered her his arm. When she didn't take it, he said, "Trust me, Marissa."

After a long moment, she accepted his courtesy, thinking that at least he hadn't pulled away from her. Which was what she could have sworn he'd been doing just after the fire.

"Hey, Butch. Hold up, my man."

Both she and Butch looked over. Wrath was coming out of the hidden door underneath the stairs and Vishous was with him.

"Evening, Marissa," the king said. "Cop, I need you a sec."

Butch nodded. "What up?"

"Will you excuse us, Marissa?"

The expressions on the Brothers' faces were bland, their bodies relaxed. And she didn't buy the nothing special for an instant. But like she was going to hang around?

"I'll wait for you at the table," she told Butch.

She headed to the dining room, then paused and looked back. The three males were standing together, Vishous and Wrath towering over Butch as they did the talking. A surprised look hit Butch's face, his brows lifting up into his fore-head. Then he nodded and crossed his arms over his chest¡ªlike he was braced and ready to go.

Dread washed over her. Brotherhood business. She just knew it.

When Butch came to the table ten minutes later, she said, "What did Wrath and V talk to you about?"

He snapped his napkin loose of its folds and put the damask in his lap. "They want me go through Tohr's house and pull a CSI. Try and see if the guy's been back or left any clues as to where he's gone."

Oh. "That's... good."

"It's what I did for a living for many years."

"Is that all you'll be doing?"

As a plate of food was set in front of him, he finished his Scotch. "Yup. Well... the brothers are going to start patrolling rural areas, so they've asked me to work up a route for them. I'm going to go with V and do that after sundown tonight."

She nodded, telling herself it was going to be fine. As long as he wasn't fighting. As long as he didn't¡ª

"Marissa, what's wrong?"

"I, ah, I just don't want you to get hurt. I mean, you're human and all and¡ª"

"So today I need to do some research."

Well... if that wasn't a door getting shut on her. And if she pressed the point, she'd only make it sound like she thought he was totally weak. "Research on what?"

He picked up his fork. "What happened to me. V's already been through the Chronicles, but he said I could give it a shot, too. "

As she nodded, she realized they would not spend the day sleeping together, side by side, in his bed. Or hers.

She took a sip from her water glass and marveled at how you could sit so close to someone and still have him be totally far away from you.