“So you don’t mind if I go to your house?” Elise asked a little while later.

She and Axe were back down on the street, the apartment shut up again, the memories of having walked through those rooms stained on Elise’s brain forever—even as a fragile peace began taking root in her heart.

“Axe?” she prompted into the bitterly cold wind.

Her male shook his head like he was trying to clear his own thoughts of where they’d been. “I’m sorry. What?”

“Are you sure you’re okay with my going back to your place? I promise I’m just going to sit in front of the fire and probably fall asleep.”

“I want you there,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I like the idea of you in front of my fire. And my meeting shouldn’t last too long.”

“I’m so glad Peyton’s okay and resting at home.”

“Me, too.”

“Thanks again for coming with me.”

“Anything for you.”

Axe kissed her, and took his time about it. Then he stepped back. “Let me get you to the cottage safe, and then I’ll take off. I’ve got to be at the meeting point in five minutes.”

She hurried away, and so did he, and then he was escorting her into the house—and insisting that he get the fire going for her even though it meant he was going to be late.

“It’s going to get down to zero tonight,” he said as he started stacking hardwood on the lit kindling. “All that Canada air coming south and turning us into Popsicles.”

She put her hands up to her wind-burned cheeks. “It was really windy downtown, too. Hey, listen, I can do that.”

“I know.”

Soon enough, the flames were snap-crackle-and-popping and he was disappearing into the rear of the cottage.

“I’m locking this back door,” he yelled out from the kitchen. “And I want you to lock the front one after I leave.”

As he returned to the living room, she was already sitting in front of the hearth, but she got up again. “Absolutely.”

“And call me if you see anything.”

“I will.”

“My extra gun is under that sofa cushion, right there. Loaded and the safety’s off.”

“I’m not shooting anything again. Or at least not for a very long time and only if it’s a snake in my car. Now, will you go? You’re going to miss the bus—and yes,” she drawled, “I’ll be naked when you come back.”

Axe let out a growl. “Okay, there’s an incentive.”

A quick kiss and he was out the door—and yelling, “Lock up! Or I’m not leaving!”

She laughed and went over, turning the dead bolt. “Locked! Go!”

Elise went back and sat before the fire, tucking her legs up tight and linking her arms. In the peaceful solitude, she thought about Troy and how much she was looking forward to them starting that seminar after New Year’s. He’d been so understanding when she’d told him that as much as she liked him, she had just started to see somebody, so there could be no dating between them. He had almost seemed relieved, explaining that it was probably for the best, given their professional association.

So all was good there.

And Axe was going to get her back and forth to the classes safely. She was even excited to have him see her teach—

A gust of wind hit the side of the cottage, whistling through the shutters and making the eaves moan. When another hit, she turned around and looked behind her. She felt like she was being watched, but … no.

There was no one around.

As a third battering gust of wind howled, she could swear she felt the chill inside. But maybe that was because her brain was bouncing between the actual violence she had witnessed the night before in that alley … and the representations of violence she had seen at Allishon’s.

Even with her coat on, she got cold.

Axe had stoked the fire perfectly, though, and at least the front of her was warm. But she sure could use …

Getting up, she went over to the chair by the front door. There was a nice heavy throw draped over the back, and as she picked it up, it smelled like Axe’s body. Perfect.

Halfway on the return trip to the fire, something dropped out of its folds, and she bent down to—

At first, Elise couldn’t believe what she was looking at.

So much so, that instead of picking the object up, she knelt down next to it.

A piece of metal. Painted black. In an odd shape that was kind of like a key, but not really.

Her heart started pounding and she looked around, which was ridiculous. Like any of the furniture or those banked flames were going to help her reconcile the issue?

Which was the fact that not more than fifteen minutes ago, give or take, she had looked at Axe and asked him what this “key” was—and he had told her he didn’t know?

Letting the weight of the fabric fall to the floor, she flattened the expanse out … and was entirely unsurprised to find that it was a cloak. Just like Allishon’s—

There was a large bulge on one side, and she ran her hands over it, wondering if she wanted to go any further with this. But of course, she had to. Heart pounding, she reached inside and—

With a curse, she dropped the mask of a skull. The thing was evil looking, realistic to the point of nightmare, hinged so that he could talk while wearing it.

Her hands shook as she put the horror back. And then, bending down low, she breathed in deep—and smelled Axe … along with some other things.

That made her want to throw up.

Images and memories filtered through her brain: of the two of them together, talking downstairs in that cellar; of him smiling at her for the first time; of him kissing her outside of that steakhouse; of their bodies in front of this very fire.

Maybe there was some kind of confusion or … an explanation for why he’d lied to her.

Surely there had to be.

Folding the cloak back together, she stared at the metal object.

Yes, there most certainly was an explanation … but she was abruptly scared of what it might be.

All in all, Peyton had it good.

He was reclining in his bed, his every need catered to by his family’s staff, his pain controlled by some Oxys that were, for once, entirely legal. And what do you know, his head was working fine—i.e., it was running his body and generating reasonable thought processes—like, yes, definitely, he wanted the underdog Louisville Cardinals to beat Kentucky in men’s basketball.

He had good money bet in Vegas with his bookie.

But he couldn’t say he was happy. Even with the feel-fine opiate in his system.

That shit with Novo was staying with him and not in a good way.

The issue for him was not so much that he cared he was a douche bag. Hell, if that bothered him, he’d have hanged himself in the closet years ago.

It was the idea that Novo thought he was a douche bag that was putting a hair across his ass.

Shit, maybe he was more old-fashioned than he thought. He’d certainly flown those same colors with Paradise when she’d told him she was entering the training program—and look at how that had worked out. She had ended up being the Primus, the number one trainee during that brutal orientation they’d all been through. So yeah, he’d been wrong about her.

Was he wrong about Novo? About females in general?

Maybe he just needed to have sex with that hard-ass female.

The instant the thought hit him, he started to get hard—and this was not a surprise. He’d been attracted to her since day one.

Paradise, though, was who had his heart—not that she was even a remote possibility with Craeg around. Which sucked. It was just … well, they’d developed a real bond during the raids, during all those phone calls when they had both been in their safe houses outside of Caldwell, isolated from everyone but their immediate families.

He trusted her in ways he didn’t anyone else.

And he was attached to her in ways he wasn’t with anybody else—

The knock that sounded out on his door was quiet, too quiet to be the butler—or that nurse who had forearms like Popeye and seemed to enjoy manhandling him around when she changed the dressing on his head.

“Come in—” He sat up as he saw who it was. “Elise, hey, girl. What are you doing here—what’s wrong.”

The female didn’t answer him. Hell, she didn’t seem capable of speech. She just shut the door behind her and stood there, ashen and shaky.

His first thought was that Axe had done something to her.

And his second was that if that fucking asshole had? Head injury or not, Peyton was going to castrate the bastard.

“Come here,” he said, patting the bed next to him. “What can I do?”

But she paced around, and it was a while before she spoke. “You told me … back in the beginning …”

“What did I tell you?” he prompted gently. “Keep talking to me.”

“About Axe … that I didn’t really know him.”

Motherfucker. “Yes, I did. What’s going on?”

She put her hand into the pocket of her coat and took out an object. As soon as he saw it properly, he frowned. “What are you doing with one of those?”

“You know what this is?”

“Yeah, it’s a pass to that sex club downtown. The Keys. I’m not a member, but I’ve seen them every once in a while. Allishon had at least one—I asked her what it was once.”

“This is not hers.” Elise stared at the thing. “But I went to her apartment tonight. I just had to—Axe was with me. When I found the one that was hers, he said he didn’t know what it was.”

“So whose is that one?” Peyton had already guessed, but he wanted her to have to say it.

“Axe’s.”

“So he lied to you.”

“Yes.” She shook her head. “I found his, by mistake. It was in the pocket of this cloak. I found a mask of a skull, too. They’re both his. I could smell his scent on them—and it’s fresh.”

As she stopped talking and stared across at him, Peyton realized he was at a crossroads with her, and it was funny. After getting slapped with Novo’s little asshole label, he wasn’t going to enjoy being honest if that was what Elise wanted—

“I want you to be honest with me.”

Shit. “Okay.”

“Did you disapprove of him because he’s a civilian, because he likes hardcore sex, or … because of something else?”

Noting her past tense, he fell silent—although things were far from quiet in his head: All he could hear was Novo’s voice in his ear, railing on his double standards about males and females. About judging the two sexes differently.

And what do you know, lightning kind of struck Marblehead: If he thought females who slept around were sluts … that meant it was the female’s fault that he himself was sexually promiscuous and kind of cruel when it came to the opposite sex. After all, if fucking was okay for males, but not females, then no matter how many people he banged without feeling, no matter how many hearts he trampled, nobody could hold him accountable.

’Cuz he was a male.

It was the ultimate unassailable justification for being an asshole.

Peyton closed his eyes and rested his head back against his downy soft pillows. All things considered, given that he had been shot in the noggin the night before, he could have done without that flash of insight.

Mostly because the OxyContin, no matter how good it was at erasing his physical pain, didn’t touch the emotional burn in the center of his chest.

The one that informed him he was not a nice guy. In spite of his looks. His money. His breeding.

Novo was right … he was an asshole.

“Damn it,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t put you in this position—”

“No, it’s fine. I’m fine. You’re fine.”

Bullshit. She was an emotional wreck and he was starting to feel like he was having an identity crisis.

“I should go—”

“No,” he said sharply, and opened his eyes. “Look, I don’t want to get in the middle of you two. I did last night and it nearly got us all killed—and even though there aren’t any lessers around right now and nobody is armed, I just … I’m going to try and not be such a judgmental dickhead.”

He was going to have to apologize to Axe, too.

“Novo … is that female who fought with us last night. Isn’t that right?” Elise asked.

Peyton nodded. “Yeah. Why?”

“I’d forgotten her name. But you introduced her that first evening I met everyone at the cigar bar.”

“Yeah.”

Elise’s eyes started to water, except then she sniffed hard and blinked while looking up at the ceiling. “Her scent was on the cloak. I didn’t put it together until I was dematerializing over here—but I scented her in the mobile surgical van when she was with us. I remember what she …” As Peyton looked away, Elise’s voice got steady. “He was with her. And recently. Like within the last night or two.”

Peyton just kept his mouth shut. Funny, as early as the night before, he would have jumped at this opportunity to take a shit all over Axe.

And he was jealous—but not when it came to Elise. He was pissed that the fucker had been with Novo.

“Look,” he said, “the only piece of advice I can give you is to go with your gut. It’s never wrong.”

“Well, what it’s telling me, then, is that while he and I were together, he was going to a hardcore club and having sex with someone else.”

Peyton shook his head. “I knew this was going to come to a bad end for you. I mean, shit, I’m aware that you two are consenting adults and all, but this is exactly why I told him to stay the fuck away from you.”

Ordinarily, he loved being right.

But not tonight, he didn’t.

Not at all.