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“You used to just open the door,” I said.

“I know better now,” he said and vanished into the living room.

He came back almost immediately. “It’s the werewolf that was at Narcissus in Chains, the one called Zeke.” Nathaniel looked a little pale.

Bobby Lee and I both had guns in our hands. I didn’t really remember drawing mine. I was looking at the boarded-up windows. The wood was a little more protection than the glass had been, but we couldn’t see through the wood either. The bad guys could sneak up on us better. “Is he alone?” I asked.

“He’s the only one standing on the porch,” Nathaniel said, “but that doesn’t mean he’s alone.” His eyes were a touch wide when he said, “I don’t smell snakes or lions.” I could see the pulse in his neck jumping under his skin.

“It’s going to be alright, Nathaniel,” I said.

He nodded, but the look on his face told me he wasn’t convinced. Gil joined us in the kitchen. “What’s happening?”

“Bad guys,” I said.

“More of them?” he said, voice plaintive.

“You might have been safer on your own, Gil,” I said.

He nodded. “I’m beginning to see that.” His eyes were so wide it looked painful.

I had brought the mini-Uzi in from the car and had reloaded it from the gun safe upstairs. I took it off the kitchen cabinet and debated between it and the Browning. The doorbell rang again. I didn’t jump this time. I hung the Uzi over my shoulder by its strap and settled the Browning more comfortably in my hand. The Uzi was really an emergency weapon. The fact that I’d even thought about answering my door with it on my person was probably a bad sign. If I needed more than a 9mm to answer my own front door, I should just leave town.

I peered out at the living room, but there was nothing to see but the closed front door. I was going to have to look out the side window to see what was waiting on the porch. I approached the door with the Browning in a two-handed grip, staying to one side of the door. I was ready in case they started shooting through the door. Of course, last time they’d shot through the windows, too, but the drapes were drawn, and it was the best I was going to be able to do, as far as safety went.

I knelt by the window, because most people shoot for the chest or head, and on my knees I’m a lot shorter. I eased the drape to one side, and something slapped against the glass. I jumped back, bringing the gun up, but nothing else happened. I had an image in my head of what it had been, and it hadn’t been a gun. I thought it had been a picture. I eased the drape back and found myself staring at a Polaroid of a man chained to a wall. He was nude, covered in bloody scratches, blood covering most of his body so it was hard to see at first exactly who it was. Then gradually my eyes made sense of it, and I realized it was Micah. I sat back abruptly on the floor, almost like I’d fallen. My hand dragged at the drape, keeping it open. The gun wasn’t where it was supposed to be, but hovered in the air, half-forgotten. A gag cut across that wide mouth, the delicate face covered in blood and swollen flesh. The long hair was mounded to one side, as if it were so sticky with blood that it no longer moved freely. His eyes were closed, and I wondered for a second that lasted forever if he was dead. But there was something about the way he hung in the chains that said alive. Even in a picture there is a stillness to death that the live cannot mimic. Or maybe I’d just seen enough bodies to know.

Bobby Lee was beside me. “What is it, what’s wrong?” Then he saw the picture, and I heard his breath go in sharp. “That’s your Nimir-Raj, isn’t it?”

I nodded, because I still wasn’t breathing, which made it hard to talk. I closed my eyes for a moment, took a deep cleansing breath, and let it out slowly. It shook as it left my body. I cursed silently. “Get a handle on it, Anita, you can do better than this.”

“What?” Bobby Lee asked.

I realized I’d said the last aloud and shook my head, letting the drape fall back into place. I got to my feet. “Let him in,