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hue of green, and she swallowed several times like she was trying to fight back rising bile. “He’s in whatever limbo you’re in?”
    “He prefers to think of it as hell, but yeah. He didn’t quite make it to the pearly gates.” As soon as the retort past his lips he wished he could pull it back. He wasn’t exactly sure what was wrong with him. He’d planned to make her feel the guilt she deserved to feel for his death, but she had that on her own in spades. Where the rest of this venom was coming from he didn’t know, but it wasn’t right. He needed to figure out how to stop himself. Damn Felix.
    Her face had lost all color. She turned around and retched into the sink.
    She stood with her arms braced on the counter for a long couple of minutes, before she reached into a cabinet for a toothbrush and paste, cleaned her mouth, and cleaned out the sink. Her entire little body shook viciously. Her voice was a scary monotone when she finally said, “You’re sure this end-of-the-world business is over in a week?”
    “Bryna,” he made his tone as soft as he could make it. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.”
    “Why be sorry for the truth?” she said, so low her tone was almost a whisper. “I don’t know how many guys there have been, or really when it started.” She refused to meet his gaze. “After his…” Her face crumpled and tears leaked from her eyes. “After the funeral, everything just kind of blurred. There were illegal substances, and I’m sorry I don’t want to know half of what I did. I’m sorry. But I…” She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. “I’m not talking about him anymore with you.”
    “Bryna—” he started.
    But she cut him off. “Just stop. I get I was an evil, horrible person for killing him. Since apparently I can’t pay for that without bringing about the end of the world, it’s probably best we stick to topics exclusively dealing with my survival. Vincent isn’t it.”
    “All right,” he said, his tone rough. “Where do we go in this time and place that is easily defended and out of the way of innocent people?”
    She shrugged. “Probably my uncle’s old fishing cabin. I think it’s still kind of habitable.”
    “That place was disgusting when he still used it,” he said before he thought not to say it.
    She turned a sharp look at him. Her eyes moved over his cloaked figure for moment and then shrugged. “Yeah, but you asked. That’s the answer I have. I need to talk to Darby before we leave. I have to make sure the rent here doesn’t spike the moment I don’t come back.”
    “You’re gonna survive this,” Vincent said in somber tones.
    “But not the day after,” she said in a conversational tone.
    Bloody hell. No wonder she killed him. He was a damn bastard. Had he been like this in life? Was this why she’d set him up? Not expecting to deliver the death blow in whatever way she thought she did? “I think we’re gonna have a long talk about this death wish you can’t seem to make up your mind about.”
    She snorted at him. “Maybe I’ll reconsider it if you can manage to keep your mouth shut. I know my sins. You don’t need to keep shoving them in my face.”
    He was about to respond when there was a loud pounding on the door.
    “Damn it, Bryna, open up the damn door!”
    *
    Bryna rolled her eyes. “Guess I don’t need to make the special trip to chat with Darby.” She brushed past Vincent and answered the door. Darby was a short man—well, he was taller than she, but that was easy to do. But by average standards, he was short. He had sharp weaselly features. His hair was greasy, and he smelled kind of funny. Fortunately, if a person was drunk, he was easily forgettable. She lifted a brow at him. “I paid my rent last week. What do you want?”
    “I hear you have a man in here with you. We had a deal.” His face was flushed with anger, and his fists were knotted up.
    “Why, yes, I do. That’s not against the rules