Syn crossed his arms over his chest. “I saved your life last night against those lessers.”

“No, you tore a bunch of your enemies up because that’s your job, and obviously because you like to kill. It had nothing to do with me.”

“Didn’t it? Were you in my mind at the time?”

“No, I was on the sidelines, watching how much you get off hurting people.”

Looking away, Syn shook his head. “Slayers are my enemy and soon to be yours.”

“If I turn. And we both know that’s not a done deal, is it. I could not go through the transition, in which case, I’m an issue for you. But again, and fortunately, you’re really good at killing, aren’t you.”

As he tried to think of what he could say, without lying, that was, she lowered her voice. “I don’t want to ever see you again. You lied to me about what I am. You lied to me about why you were around me. I… I made love to you, thinking that you were someone—something—you’re not. And I have to live with all that. But I am not adding one more goddamn thing to that list of bad choices and stupid delusions.”

Syn glanced over his shoulder. When he looked back at Jo, she had started moving away, all the while, keeping her eyes on him as if she expected him to hurt her.

I did the right thing, he thought. He’d made the right decision.

“Wait,” he said.

“No.” Jo shook her head, her red hair moving around her shoulders. “No more. I can’t stand looking at you—”

“I came to introduce you to my cousin. He’s willing to be available for you if you go through the change.”

When she stopped dead, Syn motioned to the shadows.

As Balthazar stepped into view, Syn felt like he’d been shot through the chest. But in so many ways, his life had led up to this point.

Yup. The only way to care for the female he loved… was to let her go to another.

* * *

Jo focused on the male vampire who emerged out of the shadows. He was built like Syn, powerful and dominating, and his coloring was the same. Dark hair—not-Mohawked though—and pale irises. But his features were different, and mostly in the eyes. His were more narrow.

Or maybe it was just that they’d narrowed the moment he regarded her properly.

To his credit, he didn’t do a head-to-toe sweep on her body, and there was absolutely nothing sexual in anything about him.

“This is Balthazar,” Syn said roughly. “He is a fine male of distinction—”

“Actually, I’m a thief.” When they both looked at him, the vampire shrugged. “We need to start this out on a truthful note. I’m a thief, but I’m not ever going to steal from you, and I only want to help.”

He put his hand out. And seemed prepared to wait until she felt comfortable touching him. No matter how long it took.

Jo approached slowly. It was hard to see anything other than Syn, and her emotions made that tunnel vision worse. But the idea that she might have to…

“Hi,” she said, extending her own palm.

As they shook, the male stared at Syn, something passing between them. Like a vow. Or a promise.

Jo released her hold and lowered her arm. “Who do you steal from? And what do you take?”

Balthazar shrugged. “It depends. Sometimes it’s because they have so much they need a haircut to make things fairer. That’s my Robin Hood shtick. Sometimes it’s because they have something I want. I’m less proud of that one, and I do try to even that score. You know, give them something of equal or greater value that they may need or like.”

There was a pause. “And?” Jo prompted.

That pale stare narrowed again. Then the voice dropped low. “Annnnnnd sometimes people need to be taught a lesson. It’s amazing how losing something you care about can reprioritize things. I do not apologize for that one. Ever.”

Jo blinked. And then found herself nodding. “Okay.”

She looked at Syn. He had taken a step back so that he was mostly hidden in the darkness outside the reach of the building’s security lights. And when he took another, he was nearly invisible, nothing but an outline in black blending in with the night.

“Your brothers will be there,” Balthazar said gently. “And Doc Jane will come so you have medical support. You will never be alone with me and there will be nothing sexual about it. I swear this on my honor—which, okay, fine, I don’t have a lot of, but what I do have is yours. You can trust me. All right?”

Jo searched that lean, hard face. And for some stupid reason, she got teary.

No, wait. She knew why.

In spite of everything that had gone down, and everything she knew about Syn… she still wanted it to be him.

“All right,” she said in a hoarse voice.

With that response, Syn took a final step away, the darkness enveloping him so completely that it was as if he disappeared—

“Syn?” she said.

Jo lurched forward and waved her hands around where he had been standing—well, waved one of her hands and then the gun she was still holding. There was nothing there. Not even the scent of him lingered. As her heart pounded, she turned to Balthazar.

“What happened to him?”

“Oh, hasn’t anyone told you? We have tricks. Poof! Bye-bye. And you know the whole bats, garlic, and crosses stuff is for crap, right? That’s only in the movies.”

“Will I be able to…”

“Dematerialize? It depends. Not everyone who’s a half-breed can.” He made a face. “Do you find that term derogatory? I mean, I don’t want to disrespect you.”

Jo glanced at the male and felt as helpless as a heroine in a Bruce Willis movie. At least the ones from the late eighties.

“I don’t know what to think or feel, about anything.”

She went back to staring at where Syn had been—and felt like the sudden absence of him was a great metaphor for their relationship. Poof! And he was gone.

She should be grateful. Relieved. Liberated.

Instead, she hurt. All over.

“So you love him back, huh.”

Wheeling around, Jo recoiled. “What did you say?”

CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

The following night, the night when the war ended, there was no moon in the clear velvet sky over Caldwell, New York. No stars twinkling from their heavenly perch, either. The galaxy itself seemed to hunker down, taking cover to avoid shrapnel.

As Butch stepped out of the Pit’s front door, he glanced up and felt a dread he had never known. Then he looked to the mansion’s grand entrance. The heavy panels that locked tight to protect those inside swung open, and one by one, the Brotherhood emerged. Z was the first out, his skulled trimmed hair and brutal, scarred face the kind of thing Butch had gotten used to seeing. Phury was, of course, behind his twin. Then it was Tohrment. Murhder. And Rhage. Qhuinn and John Matthew. Blay was with them. After that, the Band of Bastards emerged, led by Xcor—

“I love you.”

At the sound of his shellan’s voice, Butch turned. Marissa stood behind him, terror in her eyes, as if she knew, without him saying, what he sensed was true. This was it.

Touching her soft cheek, all kinds of things went through his mind. But as before, as always, none of the promises he wished he could make to her were under his control, and he was not going to have the last thing he told her be a lie.