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against the world and then it had been them against one another.
    He put the photograph in the drawer of the nightstand and slowly closed it, feeling like he was betraying her in some way, even after everything.
    Opening the closet door, he unseeingly grabbed a shirt, trying not to think about another woman wearing his fiancée’s clothes. Demi had been taller than Honor, but she had been pretty thin so her clothes should fit well enough. He got a pair of cotton shorts from the dresser and turned, stiffening.
    Honor stood in the doorway, watching him. “Whose apartment is this?”
    “Mine.” Technically, it was. He paid for it.
    She eyed the pink top and purple shorts he held. “You’re a cross-dresser in your spare time, Nealon? I didn’t see that one coming.”
    He tossed the clothes at her and she caught them, her actions fast, fluid. Honor’s hair fell to the side as she moved, exposing the left side of her neck. Nealon crossed the room in two long strides and grabbed her jaw, ignoring her protests. One hand under her arm, the other gripping her chin, he moved them toward the light, studying the small white slit less than an inch long in length below her left ear.
    “ What are you doing, Nealon?” she demanded. “Let me go.”
    His nose next to her skin, Nealon inhaled slowly, jerking back when his lips accidentally grazed her neck. Eyes locked on hers, he stated, “You have no scent, you have a recent scar on your neck, fading but still there, your skin is cool to the touch, and your eyes have gray around them. When is the last time you ate or drank anything?”
    “I…what?” Honor’s voice shook, her fingers touching the side of her neck.
    “ Hit me.”
    “ What? ”
    “ This is probably the only time I’ll ever allow it, so I’d take advantage of it if I were you. Come on, you have to be pissed at me about something. Pick one.”
    Her eyes narrowed, lips thinning. Honor’s fist went back—Nealon mentally braced himself—and landed on his jaw, his head snapping around with the force of it. Pain, fiery and throbbing, erupted in his face and he closed his eyes, swearing expressively.
    “Are you okay? Did it hurt?”
    Cool fingers touched his jaw and Isaac moved away, showing her his back. “I’m fine.”
    “You’re not. I hurt you. Why did you tell me to do that?” she demanded angily.
    “ Get a knife,” he rasped.
    “ What?”
    “ In the kitchen, first drawer on the left. Get a knife. There’s alcohol and tweezers in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, get those too. Bandages are in there as well.”
    “ I don’t understand. Are you cut?”
    Isaac swung around, glaring at her. He lightly fingered his aching jaw. “ Do it .”
    Her teeth snapped together and Honor strode from the room, her movements jerky with anger. Isaac took the minutes she was away to compose himself, straining for the impassivity he had to fight to find most days. He straightened, closing his eyes. Nausea and dread swirled together in his stomach and he choked it down when it threatened to go up his throat. She was too strong, much too strong for a skinny teenage girl.
    “Here.” The items he’d requested were tossed on the bed, Honor standing beside them with her arms crossed over her chest, looking like she wanted to hit him again. That wasn’t going to happen. Ever.
    “ Sit.”
    “ Tell me what’s going on.” Isaac picked up the knife and Honor’s eyes widened. “What are you going to do with that?”
    “ What I should have done to begin with. Now sit .”
    “ Not until you tell me what you plan on doing with that knife!” The space between them kept widening even though Isaac continued to move toward her.
    “ I’m going to remove the GPS chip from your neck. Before UDKs show up here and kill us, or worse, take us prisoner.”
    “ Nealon,” she said with a broken voice and he had to struggle not to comfort her in some way, his fingers tightening on the base of the knife instead. “What am I?