“Here, hold this,” V muttered. “And don’t move.”

V put the guy’s fingers where his had been. Then he ducked into the Hummer and got the Swiss army knife that Qhuinn kept in the cup holders up front. Back at his patient, he snagged his phone, turned on its flashlight, and moved Assail’s hand out of the way.

Using the flat part of the biggest knife blade as a separator, he looked into the nostrils that had been worked so hard.

Clicking the beam off, he wiped the blade on his leathers and snapped it back in its slot. “You have a nicely perforated septum. Do you have trouble sleeping? Any of the cast of thousands you’re fucking tell you you snore?”

“I sleep alone. And I do not sleep much.”

“You have trouble breathing? Any sense of smell left?”

“I can smell. And I haven’t thought about breathing.”

“Well, my advice, not that you’ll hear it, is to stop with the snorting. Or you can make shit so bad in there that surgery is not only your sole option, but possibly ineffective.”

Assail stared off into the forest without focusing.

“Not so easy, is it.” V shook his head. “Creeps up on you.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Assail crushed the bloodstained tie in his fist. “I find myself in a curious prison. One of my own manufacture, as it were. The trouble appears to be that whilst I was constructing it, I was wholly unaware of the bars I set around myself. They have proven to be rather . . . enduring, as it were.”

“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.”

FORTY-SEVEN

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.”