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“Good. This is all good.”

O leaned back to stretch his arms and idly parted the drapes. U’s house was an anonymous split-level deep in soccer-mom territory. This was the part of Caldwell with streets named Elmwood and Spruce Knoll and Pine Notch, where kids rode their bikes on the sidewalks and dinner was on the table at six every night.

All the happy-happy, joy-joy made O’s skin crawl. He wanted to torch the houses. Put salt on the lawns. Chop the trees down. Level the place until it couldn’t resurface. The impulse went so deep it surprised him. He had no problem with destruction of property, but he was a killer, not a vandal. He couldn’t figure out why he gave a shit.

“I want to use your truck,” U was saying. “I’m going to rent a trailer to hitch on. Between the two, I’ll be able to take delivery on the boards and roofing supplies in batches. No reason for the Home Depot folks to know where we are.”

“And the stuff for the storage units?”

“I know exactly what you’re looking for and where to find it.”

An electronic beeping sounded.

“What the hell’s that?” O asked.

“Reminder for the nine-A.M. check-in.” U took out a BlackBerry, his blunt fingers flying over the little keyboard. “You want me to e-mail your status for you?”

“Yeah.” O focused on U. The lesser had been in the society for 175 years. He was pale as paper. Calm and sharp as a tack. Not as aggressive as some, but steady.

“You’re an asset, U.”

U cocked a smile and looked up from the BlackBerry. “I know. And I like to be used. Speaking of which, who are you going to give me for a crew?”

“We’re going to use both prime squadrons.”

“You’re taking all of us off-line for two nights?”

“And days. We’ll sleep in shifts at the site.”

“Fine.” U looked back down at the thing in his hand, fingering a little wheel on the right side of it. “Oh…shit. Mr. X is not going to like this.”

O narrowed his eyes. “Oh, yeah?”

“It’s a blast e-mail to the Beta squadrons. I’m still on the list, I guess.”

“And?”

“A bunch of Betas were hunting last night and ran into one of the Brotherhood in the park. Of the five of them, three are unaccounted for. Get this, the warrior was with a human female.”

“Sometimes they have sex with them.”

“Yeah. Lucky bastards.”

Mary stood over the stove thinking of the way Rhage had just looked at her. She couldn’t figure out why offering to cook him breakfast was such a big deal, but he’d acted as if she’d given him a tremendous gift.

She flipped the omelet over and headed for the refrigerator. Taking out a plastic container of cut fruit, she spooned all there was into a bowl. It didn’t look like enough, so she grabbed a banana and sliced it on top.

As she put the knife down, she touched her lips. There had been nothing sexual about the kiss he’d given her behind the couch; it had been all about gratitude. And the mouth-on-mouth action in the park had been deeper, but the distance on his side was the same. The passion had been one-sided. Hers.

Did vampires even sleep with humans? Maybe that was why he held back, instead of it being some kind of power play.

Except what about the hostess at TGI Friday’s? He’d definitely sized that woman up, and not because he’d wanted to buy her a dress. So clearly his kind had no problem being with another species. What he had no interest in was being with her.

Friends. Just friends.

When the omelet was finished and the toast buttered, she rolled a fork up in a napkin, tucked the twist under her elbow, and took the plate and the bowl into the living room. She quickly shut the door behind her and turned to the couch.

Whoa.

Rhage had taken his shirt off and was leaning back against the wall, inspecting his burns. In the glow of candlelight, she got a serious look at his heavy shoulders, his powerful arms, his chest. His stomach. The skin over all that muscle he was carrying was golden, hairless.

Trying to keep it together, she put what she was carrying on the floor next to him and sat down a few feet over. To stop herself from staring at his body, she glanced at his face. He was looking