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Butch and Rhage walked into the room and the cop shook his head. “Shit, this takes me right back to Homicide.”

“Man . . .” Hollywood sighed.

“Do we know how they got in?” the cop asked, walking around the table.

“No, but let’s go through the house again,” Phury said. “I just can’t believe they walked right through the front door.”

When the four of them got upstairs to Lash’s room, they were all shaking their heads.

Phury looked around the room, his brain churning. “We’ve got to get word out.”

“Well, look at this,” Z murmured, nodding to a window.

Down at the foot of the driveway, a car turned in. Then another. Then a third.

“There’s your looters,” the brother said.

“Fuckers,” Rhage bit out with a grim smile. “But at least they have good timing—I need to work off dinner.”

“And it’d be so damn rude not to greet them at the door,” Butch muttered.

Instinctively, Phury reached to open his coat, but then remembered there were no guns or daggers to get to.

There was a split second of awkwardness, during which no one would look at him, so he said, “I’ll go back to the compound and contact the other families in the glymera. I’ll also let Wrath know what’s doing.”

The three nodded and jogged for the stairs.

As they pounded down to welcome-wagon the lessers, Phury took one last look around the bedroom, thinking that he wanted to be with the others, killing the sons of bitches who had done this.

The wizard faced off at him in his mind. They won’t fight with you anymore because they can’t trust you. Soldiers don’t want to be backed up by someone they have no faith in.

Face it, mate, you’re finished on this side. The question is, how long until you ruin it with the Chosen?

Just as Phury was about to dematerialize, he frowned.

Across the way, on the dresser, there was a smudge of something on one of the brass drawer pulls.

He went over for a closer look. Dark brown . . . it was dried blood.

When he opened the drawer, there were bloody finger-prints on the objects inside: the Jacob & Co. iced-out watch Lash had worn before his transition had smudges on it, and so did a diamond chain and a heavy stud earring. Something had obviously been taken out of the little drawer, but why would a lesser leave such expensive things behind? It was hard to imagine what would be worth more than all those diamonds and still fit in a small space.

Phury glanced around at the Sony VAIO laptop and the iPod . . . and the dozen other drawers in the room that were divvied up between the desk and the bureau and the bedside tables. All of them were closed tight.

“You have to leave.”

Phury turned around. Z was standing in the doorway, gun drawn.

“Get the fuck out of here, Phury. You’re not armed.”

“I could be.” He glanced over at the desk where a couple of knives lay on the textbooks. “In a heartbeat.”

“Go.” Z bared his fangs. “You’re not helping here.”

The first sounds of the fighting drifted up the staircase in a series of grunts and barked curses.

As his twin took off to defend the race, Phury watched Z go. Then he dematerialized from Lash’s bedroom, bound for the desk in the training center’s office.

Chapter Thirty

"You need to rest,” Cormia said as Bella yawned again.

Fritz had just come in and taken away their First Meal dishes. Bella had had steak and mashed potatoes and mint-chocolate -chip ice cream. Cormia had had the potatoes . . . and some of the ice cream.

And she’d thought the M&M’s had been delightful?

Bella snuggled more deeply into her pillows. “You know, I think you’re right. I am tired. Maybe we can finish up the marathon later tonight?”

“Sounds lovely.” Cormia slid off the bed. “Do you need anything?”

“No.” Bella’s eyes closed. “Hey, before you go. What are those candles made of? They are incredibly soothing.”

The female seemed awfully pale against her white lace pillowcase. “They’re made of sacred things from the other side. Sacred, healing things. Herbs and flowers mixed with a binding made with water from