Z stared at the screen of his phone, praying for a response from Bella. He would have called, but his voice was so shaky he didn't want to alarm her. Plus getting into a huge emotional thing wasn't a great idea, considering he had a broken leg on lesser real estate.

Rhage and Blay came back through the tunnel.

". . . is why they didn't come into the house," Rhage was saying. "The entrance to this storage unit is through the shed out back. They were checking on the security system first, clearly less concerned that the house had been infiltrated."

Z cleared his throat and warbled, "The alarm is still blinking. If it doesn't get shut off, more will--"

Rhage leveled his gun at the red light, pulled the trigger, and dusted the thing. "Maybe that'll work."

"You are such a techie, Hollywood," Z muttered. "Right up there with Bill Gates."

"Whatever. We need to get you and the civilian out--"

Z's phone vibrated and he opened the text from Bella, holding his breath. After he read it twice, he shut his eyes hard and clipped the phone shut. Oh, God . . . no.

Propping his upper body off the dirt floor, he made a lurch to get on his feet. The shot of agony that ran up his leg helped to distract him from the sight of all the blood that had pooled underneath him.

"What the . . ."

". . . fuck are . . ."

". . . you doing . . ."

John signed what the other three were saying: What are you doing?

"I need to get home." Dematerializing wasn't an option because of his leg--which was making him want to throw up as it flopped around. "I need to--"

Hollywood shoved his perfectly beautiful face right in Z's grille. "Will you just relax? You're in shock--"

Z grabbed the male's upper arm and squeezed to shut the brother up. He spoke softly, and when he was done, Rhage could only blink.

After a moment Hollywood said quietly, "Here's the issue, though. You have a compound fracture, my brother. I promise we'll get you back, but we need to take you to a doctor. Dead is not where you want to be, feel me?"

As a wave of light-headedness came swooping in from out of nowhere, Z had a feeling his brother had a point. But fuck it. "Home. I want--."

His body collapsed. Just folded on him like a house of cards.

Rhage caught his weight and turned to the boys. "You two, carry him out of the tunnel. Move it. I'll cover."

Zsadist grunted as he changed hands and was hauled off like a deer carcass found in the middle of a road. The pain was a stunner, making his heart palpitate and his skin shiver, but it was good. He need the physical manifestation of the emotion trapped in the center of his chest.

The tunnel was about fifty yards in length and tall enough so that only a hob-bit could have any headroom--so the trip out was about as much fun as being born. Qhuinn and John were cranked over, scrambling to hold on to him while hauling ass, two grown- ups in a kid-scaled model. As Z's body jangled and his fucked-up foot rang like a bell, the only thing that kept him conscious was the text from Bella:

I'M SORRY. I LOVE YOU, BUT SHE AND I HAVE TO GO. I'LL GIVE YOU THE ADDRESS WHEN WE'RE SETTLED LATER TONIGHT.

Outside the air was cool, and Z dragged the shit into his lungs in hopes of calming his stomach. He was taken directly to the Hummer and settled in the back, along with the civilian who had passed out cold. John, Blay, and Qhuinn piled in, and then there was a stretch of hurry-up-and-wait.

Finally Rhage bolted from the house, flashed three fingers and a fist, and dove into the shotgun seat. While the brother started texting on his phone, Qhuinn hit the gas and once again proved he had half a brain: The guy had been smart enough to back in so he had a straight shot down the driveway, and he took the way out with a vengeance.

Rhage looked at his watch as they bumped along. "Four . . . three . . . two . . ."

The house behind them exploded into a fireball, the aftershocks sending waves of buffering energy through the air--

Just as a minivan full of the enemy pulled into the end of the driveway, blocking the way onto Route 9.

Bella double-checked the two L.L. Bean bags and was pretty sure she had everything she needed for the short term. In the one with the green handles she had some clothes for herself, along with her cell phone charger, her toothbrush, and two thousand dollars in cash. The blue-handled one had Nalla's clothes, bottles and diapers, along with wet wipes, rash cream, blankies, a teddy bear, and Oh, the Places You'll Go! by Dr. Seuss.

The title of Nalla's favorite book was a shitkicker on a night like tonight. It really was.

When there was a knock on the nursery door, Bella called out, "Come in."

Mary, Rhage's shellan, popped her head in. Her face was tight, her gray eyes grim even before she looked down at the bags.

"Rhage texted me. Z's been injured. I know you're going to leave, and the why is none of my business, but you might consider waiting. From what Rhage said, Z is desperately going to need to feed."

Bella slowly straightened. "How . . . how badly injured? What--"

"I don't have any more details other than that they'll be home as soon as they can."

Oh . . . God. It was the news she had always dreaded. Z injured out in the field.

"What's their ETA?"

"Rhage didn't say. I know they have to drop off an injured civilian at Havers's new clinic, but that's on the way. I'm not sure whether Z's getting treated here or there."

Bella shut her eyes. Zsadist had sent her that text while injured. He'd been reaching out to her when he was in pain . . . and she'd slapped him back with the fact that she was abandoning him to his demons.

"What have I done," she said softly.

"I'm sorry?" Mary asked.

Bella shook her head as much at herself as in response to the female.

Going over to the crib, she looked at their daughter. Nalla was sleeping with the hard, dense exhaustion of the young, her little chest pumping up and down with purpose, her pink hands curled into fists, her brows bunched together as if she were concentrating on growing.

"Will you stay with her?" Bella asked.

"Absolutely."

"There's milk in the fridge over there."

"I'll be right here. I won't go anywhere."

Back in the driveway of the Jolly Green Giant house in the sticks, Z felt the heavy-duty lurch of Qhuinn slamming on the Hummer's brakes. The SUV held steady as the laws of physics gripped its mass hard, putting an end to its acceleration just before the vehicle crushed the frontal lobe of the minivan in its path.

Gun muzzles came out of the windows of the Lessening Society's soccer-mom special like the bitch was a stagecoach, and bullets went ape shit, pinging the Hummer's reinforced-steel body and ricocheting off its inch-thick Plexiglas windows.

"Second night out with my ride," Qhuinn spat. "And these fuckers are Swiss-cheesing me? Hell, no. Hold on."

Qhuinn threw them into reverse, jumped the SUV back fifteen feet, then punched the engine into first gear and nailed his foot to the floor. Wrenching the wheel to the left, he dodged around the Town & Country, chunks of earth clumping up and clapping against both cars.

As they bounced around like a boat in bad weather, Rhage reached into his jacket and took out a hand grenade. Opening his bulletproof window just far enough, he popped the pin with his teeth and tossed the fist-size explosive out. By the grace of God the damn thing tripped off the minivan's roof and rolled under the vehicle.

The three lessers leaped out of that fucker like the thing was on fire.

And ten seconds later it was, its flames lighting up the night.

Fuuuuuck, if Z thought the trip through the tunnel had been bad on his leg, it was nothing compared to the bump-and-shatter act it took to get away from those slayers. By the time the Hummer burst out onto Route 9 after having clipped at least one of the lessers on its hood, Zsadist was on the verge of blacking out.

"Shit, he's going into shock."

Z realized with little interest that Rhage had turned around and was looking at him, not at the civilian.

"Am not," he mumbled as his eyes rolled back in his head. "Just taking a little break."

Rhage's spectacular Bahama-blue stare narrowed. "Compound. Fracture. Motherfucker. You're bleeding out as we speak."

Z lifted his eyes to Qhuinn's in the rearview mirror. "Sorry `bout the carpet."

The male shook his head. "Not to worry. You, I will abso trash my ride for."

Rhage put his hand on Z's neck. "Damn it, you're white as snow and about as warm. You're going to have to get treated at the clinic."

"Home."

In a low voice Rhage said, "I texted Mary not to let her go, okay? Bella's still going to be there no matter how long it takes us to get back to the mansion. She's not leaving you before you get home."

A whole lot of resounding quiet settled in the Hummer, like everyone was busy pretending they didn't hear any of Rhage's newsflash.

Z opened his mouth to argue.

But fainted dead away before he could marshal any more objections.