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“Have you met the one who is…whose face is scarred?”

“That’s Zsadist. His name is Zsadist.”

“Oh. Ah, is he…”

“What?”

“Well, I’ve heard things about him. He has a dangerous reputation.”

“Yeah, I can imagine. But you know, I’m not sure he’s all bad. Why do you ask?”

“Oh, no reason. Really.”

At one A.M., John Matthew left Moe’s and headed for home. Tohrment hadn’t come. Maybe the man wasn’t going to come. Maybe the chance to get away with him was lost.

Walking along in the cold night, John was frantic, his need to leave his building approaching evacuation levels. The fear was so bad, it was coming out in his dreams. He’d taken a nap before work, and his nightmares had been terrifying, filled with visions of white-haired men coming after him, and catching him, and taking him somewhere dark and underground.

As he approached the door to his studio, he had his key in hand and he didn’t dawdle. He shot inside and closed himself in, locking everything: the two dead bolts, the chain. He wished he had one of those door poles that plugged into the floor.

He knew he should eat, but he didn’t have the energy to deal with the Ensure so he sat on his bed, hoping his flagging strength would magically rebound. He was going to need it. Tomorrow he had to go out and start looking for a new place to live. It was time to save himself.

But God, he wished he’d gone with Tohrment when he’d had the—

A knock sounded on the door. John looked up, hope and fear twisting into a rope in his chest.

“Son? It’s me, Tohrment. Open up.”

John rushed across the room, tore the locks back, and nearly threw himself at the man.

Tohrment’s brows came down over his navy-blue eyes. “What’s the matter, John? You got trouble?”

He wasn’t sure how much to say about the pale man he’d met in the stairwell, and in the end, decided to keep quiet. He wasn’t going to risk Tohrment’s changing his mind because the kid he was thinking of taking in was a paranoid psycho.

“Son?”

John went for his pad and pen while Tohrment shut the door.

I’m glad you came. Thank you.

Tohrment read the words. “Yeah, I would have gotten here sooner, but last night I had…business I needed to attend to. So have you thought about—”

John nodded and scribbled quickly. I want to come with you.

Tohrment smiled a little. “That’s good, son. That’s a good choice.”

John took a deep breath, beyond relieved.

“Here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to come back tomorrow night and pick you up. I can’t take you home now because I’m out in the field until dawn.”

John swallowed fresh panic. But come on, he told himself. What was one more day?

Two hours before dawn, Rhage and Vishous went to the Tomb’s entrance. Rhage waited in the woods while V took inside the jar they’d found at the lesser’s place on LaCrosse.

The other address had proven to be an abandoned torture center. In the stuffy basement of the low-rent two-story, they’d found dust-covered instruments as well as a table and restraints. The place was a horrifying testimony to the Society’s change in strategy from fighting the brothers to snatching and hurting civilians. Both he and Vishous had been choked with vengeance as they’d left.

On the way back to the compound, they’d stopped at Mary’s so V could scope the rooms and figure out what he’d need to wire the place up good and tight. Being there had been hell. Seeing her things. Remembering the first night he’d gone to find her. He hadn’t been able to look at the couch at all because it reminded him of what he’d done to her body on the floor behind it.

All that felt like a lifetime ago.

Rhage cursed and resumed scanning the forest around the cave’s mouth. When V came out, the two of them dematerialized to the main house’s courtyard.

“Hey, Hollywood, Butch and I are going to One Eye for a nightcap. You want to come?”

Rhage looked up at the dark windows of his bedroom.

Even though a trip to One Eye left him cold, he knew he shouldn’t be alone. With the way he was feeling, he was liable to go find Mary and make an ass out of