At that moment, their waitress came over and slid their plates into place. Holy crap, Therese thought as she took a gander at her Reuben. The last time she’d seen slices of bread that big was on a box spring. And there had to be a half a cow’s worth of corned beef between the rye mattresses.

“This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” she said.

“I told you,” Trez agreed.

The waitress just grunted, but Therese supposed they were lucky she didn’t empty the side plates of fries on their heads.

“Tell me,” Trez said as the woman stalked off, “are you a ketchup girl?”

“I am, I am.”

He twisted off the cap of the Heinz bottle and handed the thing to her. When she was done, he went to town on his cheeseburger with the stuff.

“So about my offer to help you.”

Therese carefully picked up one half of her sandwich. “I don’t know, I’ll be out of there by the middle of January as long as I can keep the job at Sal’s. That’s not much more time.”

“See, I have some friends who have a bunch of real estate in town. Members of the species, you know. The houses are in good neighborhoods and they’re monitored by … well, it’s state of the art. They have good security systems and the added bonus of no heroin addicts in the front hall.”

“But how much will something like that cost?” She shook her head. “I don’t have a security deposit saved up and I won’t be able to afford—”

He waved a hand. “Don’t worry about that.”

“Sorry, but I have to. I’m taking care of myself, remember.”

On that note, Therese stretched her mouth wide and took a bite. Oh, yeaaaaaaaah, talk about your heaven. And the rye was soft as Wonder Bread, but with a tang to rival the Russian dressing.

As she moaned, Trez nodded. “Good, right? I’m glad.”

As he ate his hamburger, she was impressed with his table manners. Nothing sloppy or rushed, and plenty of napkin wiping. He also managed to not spill anything on that suit jacket, which was seriously impressive.

“Is that silk?” she said as she nodded at his torso.

“The suit or the shirt?”

“Um … both?”

“Yes.”

“Well, they’re beautiful.” And I’ll bet what’s underneath that shirt is even better looking—

Abruptly, his lids got low. “I’m not sure what to say to that.”

Therese lowered her sandwich and slumped in the banquette. “Oh, my God.”

“It’s all right.” His eyes went to her mouth. “Don’t worry about it.”

Putting down the wedge that was left of the first half of her Reuben, she wiped her hands on the paper napkin. “You know what, I think maybe I should go.”

“Don’t talk crazy.”

“That’s apparently all I can do tonight.”

“Tell you what,” he murmured. “Make it up to me. Stay at one of my friends’ places so I don’t have to feel guilty if something bad happens to you.”

“Why would you feel guilty? I’m not your problem.”

“Any male—any person—who doesn’t step up when someone needs help is doing something wrong.”

“But what about the security deposit and first and last month’s rent and—”

“They’ll work out a schedule for you. You know, for payments.” He shrugged. “Look, this is just members of the species taking care of each other. We have to stick together in this world. Between the humans and the lessers, we’re outnumbered.”

The waitress came back over, replaced the Cokes with new ones, and pitched down two dessert plates with gigantic slices of apple pie on them. À la mode. Then she took out her old-school ordering pad and tore the bill off like it had insulted her mother.

She slapped it facedown on the table. “Pie’s on the house.” She nodded at Therese’s tuxedo. “You work at Sal’s?”

Therese’s brows popped. “Yes, I do.”

“Professional courtesy. Night.”

The woman marched off as if she were on a campaign to shut down the kitchen.

“Wow,” Therese said. “That was nice of her.”

“I don’t have any problem with people who are crispy because they’re making an honest buck for an honest shift’s work.”

“Me, neither. And I would have thanked her—”

“But you were worried she’d put a gun to your head? Good idea.”

They both fell into silence as Therese thought about going back to that hovel. “When could I move?” she blurted.

Trez stared across at her and smiled slowly. “Let me make a couple of phone calls and I’ll find out.”

She ducked her eyes. “Thank you.” And then she immediately looked back up at him. “But I pay for everything myself. I don’t want any discount or anything. This is just like any other tenant, okay? I would rather stay right where I am and get mugged than—”

Trez put his palm forward. “Understood. Completely understood. You’ll just be moving to a place where you don’t have to prove your independence by getting stabbed.”

“That’s right.” She reached forward and snagged the check. “And on that note, I’m paying for this meal and you’re going to let me, graciously.”

As he opened his mouth, she feigned putting a hand over her heart. “Oh, you’re so welcome. Really, it’s my pleasure and a great way to pay back your kindness. And you know, may I just say, I love a secure male who can let a female be his equal. It’s really sexy.”

He closed his mouth. Leaned back. Leaned forward.

“Wow,” he said eventually.

“What?’

Trez cleared his throat and straightened the open collar of his shirt. Which was perfectly straight. “This is a great cheeseburger. Ah, yeah. Really … nice fries, too.”

Therese started to smile. “Wait’ll you get to the pie. I think we’re both going to love it.”

FIFTY-THREE

At the appointed hour of four a.m., Xcor transferred his corporeal form to the top of the Caldwell Insurance Company building. As he re-formed in the stiff gusts that barreled through the air space high above the city, he took in a deep, bracing breath.

And when he looked over his shoulder, one by one, his males appeared: Zypher, Balthazar, Syphon, and Syn. When they were all standing before him, he felt a moment of pride, for he had assembled them by choice, cherry-picking from among all at the war camp those whom he felt were the best of the best. This group of fighters had followed him into countless battles, and together they had bested so many slayers, their kills would be impossible to count—

Abruptly, the image of all those jars in that cave of the Brotherhood’s came back to him. For truth, if the two groups had been able to work together? Mayhap the war would be over by now.

Zypher stepped forward, clearly prepared to make some kind of statement for the whole.

“Whate’er you speak,” Xcor said into the wind, “I accept and—”

The great fighter sank to his knees and stared up at Xcor mutely.

As the wind swirled around and the hair on both their heads blew this way and that along with their winter clothes, Xcor found himself blinking quickly.

And then he reached into his coat and withdrew a knife that he had lifted from that safe house’s kitchen and kept within the folds of the black parka he wore. Curling his dagger hand into a fist around the double-sided blade, he squeezed hard … and as he withdrew the weapon from his grip, blood flowed.

Xcor offered his bleeding palm to his soldier, and Zypher lowered his mouth and drank from what welled forth. Then he swiped his mouth on the back of his arm and rose to his feet. After he bowed, he stepped back.

One by one, the other males repeated the pledge of fealty, a ceremony they had done so many, many years ago, back in a forest in the Old Country. Syn was the last to come forth, just as he had been during the first swearing—and after he partook and stood once more, he took something from off his back.

When Xcor saw what it was, he was momentarily struck dumb. But then he ran his own tongue up the wound upon his palm to seal it … and reached out to what was being offered to him.