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have gone as far as it has. You are the champion and the cheerleader and

the chess master of everything I do—and I’ll stop the gushing there,

otherwise this book will be longer than even Phury’s.

Everyone at New American Library, especially:

Claire Zion, Kara Welsh, and Leslie Gelbman, Craig Burke and Jodi Rosoff,

Lindsay Nouis, the great Anthony, and the wonderful Rachel Granfield,

who deals so graciously with my twenty-pound manuscripts.

Steve Axelrod, who’s the captain of my ship.

Monstrous thanks to The Incomparable Suzanne Brockmann

(I’m getting her a sash with that on it and a sparkly crown), Christine Feehan

(whose obelisk I’m building as we speak) and her amazing family

(Domini, Manda, Denise, and Brian), Sue Grafton, aka Mother Sue,

Linda Francis Lee, Lisa Gardner, and all my other writer friends.

Once again a huge thank-you to the best dental teams in the world:

Scott A. Norton, DMD, MSD, and Kelly Eichler, along with Kim and

Rebecca and Crystal; and David B. Fox, DMD, and Vickie Stein.

D.L.B., who’s the best metal-studded, ass-kicking baby boy in the whole world. xxx mummy

N.T.M., whose idea this whole Insider’s Guide was and

who did so much work on it—and whose kind nature is

bested only by his patience and his sense of humor.

Dr. Jessica Andersen—my CP and confidante and sparring partner.

LeElla Scott—you have too many nicknames at this point to list.

So I’ll just go with the most important one: Bestie.

And Kaylie’s momma—who’s still my Idol.

As always to Mom, Boat, and the Boo.

Father Mine

ONE

“So Bella looks good.”

At the counter of the Brotherhood’s kitchen, Zsadist picked up a knife, squeezed a head of romaine lettuce together, and started drawing the blade through at one-inch intervals. “Yeah, she does.”

He liked Doc Jane. Hell, he owed her. But he had to remind himself of his manners: It would be damn tacky to bite the head off a female who was not only your brother’s shellan, but who had saved the love of your life from bleeding out on the birth table.

“She’s recovered beautifully in the last two months.” Doc Jane watched him from the table across the way, her Marcus Welby, M.D., bag beside her ghostly hand. “And Nalla’s thriving. Man, vampire young progress so much faster than human babies. Cognitively, it’s like she’s nine months old.”

“They’re doing great.” He kept slicing, moving his hand down and through, down and through. On the far side of the blade, the leaves sprang free in curly green ribbons like they were clapping at having been liberated.

“And how are you doing with the whole dad thing—”

“Fuck!”

Dropping the knife, he cursed and brought up the hand that had been on the lettuce. The cut was deep, down to the bone, and his blood was red as it welled up and dripped off his skin.

Doc Jane came over to him. “Okay, let’s get you to the sink.”

To her credit, she didn’t touch him on the arm or try to lead him with a push on his shoulder blade; she just loomed and pointed the way to Kohlerland.

He still didn’t like anyone but Bella putting their hands on his body, although he had made some progress. Now, if the contact was unexpected, his first move wasn’t going for a concealed weapon and capping whoever had let their palms do the walking.

When they were in front of the sink, Doc Jane cranked the thing’s throttle over and fired it back so that there was a warm rush landing in the deep porcelain belly.

“Under,” she said.

He extended his arm and put his thumb into the hot water. The slice burned like a bitch, but he didn’t wince. “Let me guess. Bella asked you to come talk to me just now.”

“Nope.” When he shot her a look, the good doctor shook her head. “I examined her and the baby. That was it.”

“Well, good. Because I’m fine.”

“Had a feeling you’d say that.” Doc Jane crossed her arms over her chest and regarded him with a stare that made him want to build a brick wall between the two of them. Whether in a solid state or translucent as she was at the moment, it didn’t matter. When you got eyeballed