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changing table set up easily enough—
    Where would she go?
    The easiest solution was one of her brother’s houses. Rehvenge had a number of them, and all she’d have to do was ask. Man, how ironic was that? After having fought to get away from him, now she was contemplating going back.
    Not contemplating. Deciding.
    Bella leaned to the side, took her cell phone out of the pocket of her jeans, and hit Rehv’s number.
    After two rings a deep, familiar voice answered, “Bella?”
    There was a roar of music and people talking in the background, the various sounds like a crowd competing for space.
    â€œHi.”
    â€œHello? Bella? Hold on, let me get into my office.” After a long, noisy pause, the din was cut off sharply. “Hey, how are you and your little miracle doing?”
    â€œI need a place to stay.”
    Total silence. Then her brother said, “Would that be for three or for two?”
    â€œTwo.”
    Another long pause. “Do I need to kill that fool bastard?”
    The cold, vicious tone scared her a little, reminding her that her beloved brother was not a male you wanted to screw with. “God, no.”
    â€œTalk, sister mine. Tell me what’s going on.”
    Â 
    Death was a black parcel that came in a lot of different shapes and weights and sizes. Still, it was the kind of thing that when it hit your front doorstep, you knew the sender without checking the return address or even opening the thing up.
    You just knew.
    As Z back-flatted into the path of those two lessers, he knew that his FedEx-tinction package had arrived, and the only thing that went through his mind was that he wasn’t ready to take delivery.
    Course, it wasn’t the kind of thing you could refuse to sign for.
    Above him, cast in a dim glow from some kind of light, the lessers froze as if he were the last thing they expected to see. Then they took out their guns.
    Z didn’t have a last word; he had a last image, one that totally eclipsed the double-barreled action that was at point-blank range of his head. In his mind he saw Bella and Nalla together in that rocker back in the nursery. It was not a picture from the night before when there had been Kleenexes and red-rimmed eyes and his twin looking grave. It was from a couple of weeks ago, when Bella had been staring down at the young in her arms with such tenderness and love. As if she’d sensed him in the doorway, she’d lifted her eyes, and for a moment the love that was in her face had wrapped around him as well.
    The two gunshots rang out, and the weirdest thing was that the only pain he felt was the sting of the sound in his ears.
    Two flopping thunchs followed, echoing around the stolen riches.
    Z lifted his head. Qhuinn and Rhage were standing right behind where the lessers had been, their guns just lowering. Blay and John Matthew were with them, their guns drawn as well.
    â€œYou okay?” Rhage asked.
    No. That would be one big fat hairy fuck-no. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m tight.”
    â€œBlay, back into the tunnel with me,” Rhage said. “John and Qhuinn, you stay with him.”
    Z let his head fall back and listened as two sets of shitkickers headed off in the distance. In the eerie silence that followed, a wave of nausea rolled over him and every inch of him started to shake, his hands flapping like flags in a brisk wind as he brought them up to feel his face.
    John’s hand touched his arm and he jumped. “I’m okay . . . I’m okay. . . .”
    John signed, We’re going to get you out of here.
    â€œHow—” He cleared his throat. “How do I know this is happening?”
    I’m sorry? How do you know . . . ?
    Zsadist’s fingers skipped along his forehead as he tried to prod where the slayers had aimed their guns. “How do I know this is real? And not a . . . How do I know I didn’t just die?”
    John glanced over his shoulder at Qhuinn like he had