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to her?"
    "Her brother. And she confirmed it. He's blind."
    All hint of amusement left his chief's face. "Shit."
    "Yeah." He felt the same way about the prospect of killing the male. But he wasn't sure how they were going to avoid it.
    "Well, we don't have to do anything about them today. Do you want someone to spell you for a while?"
    "No, I'm good."
    Lyon clapped him on the back, slipped his arm around Kara's shoulders, and turned to leave.
    Wulfe went to stand by the cage with the brother and sister, his gaze lingering on Natalie's tear-streaked face. A lightness filled his chest at the thought that for once, he looked damned close to normal. At least in the eyes of this woman. It was a novel experience.
    Behind him, he heard the other female, Lip Ring, stirring. He turned slowly, watching as she sat up, as she opened her eyes and stared at him.
    As she screamed.

Chapter Three
    "Hi, Mr. McCloud. How are you feeling today?"
    As Ariana strode into the ailing patient's hospital room, the elderly human looked up. Eyes tight with pain lit with pleasure at the sight of her.
    "Hi, pretty girl. Did you finally transfer down here to the oncology ward?"
    "No, I'm still in maternity." The poison inside her leaped to feed on the poor man's pain. Goddess, she hated feeding on others' misery, though it didn't hurt them. She took nothing from them and gave back what she could. "I'm off work and heading out, but I wanted to stop by and see you, first. I hear you're leaving us tomorrow."
    He nodded, his face a mask of resignation. "Hospice. There's nothing more they can do for me here."
    Stage-four bone cancer. Not only was he the quickest feed, but she'd learned he had little family and far fewer visitors than the others on the ward. So they gave to one another, though only she understood the true nature of the exchange.
    An Ilina's natural energy was pleasure, not pain. But the poison inside her was another matter--a living thing that demanded the misery. Long ago, she'd discovered that the hungrier the darkness became, the less able she was to control it.
    She gripped his frail hand. "I'm sorry."
    "Me, too." He was silent a moment, then visibly shook off the pall. "Tell me about the Orioles. I hear they won."
    As much time as she'd spent among humans these past centuries, she'd come to know and understand them well. She never failed to be humbled by the depth of their courage in the face of impending death.
    "They did. They beat the Mets seven to six." She'd never acquired much of a taste for human sports, but Mr. McCloud was an avid baseball fan, and she kept tabs on the games so she'd have something to talk with him about. Something that might take his mind off his own terrible pain.
    "You should have seen them in '96. What a team." While Mr. McCloud regaled her with stories of the Orioles' pennant race, the poison inside her exhausted body feasted.
    For most of her years in exile, she'd acted as a midwife or maternity nurse, her Ilina nature feeding off the joy of childbirth even as the dark poison gorged on the accompanying pain. But sometime over the past couple of years, the balance had tipped. Either she was growing weaker, or the darkness inside her had grown in strength. Her feeding had had to grow along with it.
    Deep inside, she felt a fluttering of panic that she was losing control. The fear that, after all these years of struggling to hold on, her strength would fail before Melisande caught the Mage sorcerer and forced an antidote from him.
    And now, to make the disaster complete, Kougar was back, demanding explanations and aid she couldn't provide, their mating bond reconnected and endangering his life all over again.
    She felt beaten, pummeled by emotions that had her torn between screaming and crying ever since Kougar walked back into her life three days ago and turned it upside down. She ached at the pain she knew he was in over the impending deaths of his friends. Yet she could do nothing. Nothing but ensure that he