The man wasn't tall, but broad in the shoulders and undeniably handsome. His long, blond surfer hair, dimples, and pale blue eyes were a stark contrast to his manner, which was closed off and just plain shady.

Sara didn't trust him as far as she could throw him.

Standing toe to toe with him inside Pearl's room on the juvenile ward, Sara once again explained the reason she was kicking him out. "Unauthorized visits are not allowed, Mr. Barnes."

"Alistair. Please." He gave her a tight-lipped smile. "The child needs her parent, don't you think?"

"Yes, unfortunately that legal parent is not here."

"Doctor--"

"I've tried several times to reach her, as has the social worker." Sara's gaze shifted to Pearl, who sat on the edge of her bed, looking flushed and worried. "Pearl, do you know where your mother might be? How I can get ahold of her?"

Pearl didn't even open her mouth before Alistair jumped in. "Unfortunately, her mother can't handle the stress of this situation. She's asked that I watch over Pearl, and"--

he lowered his chin--"of your care of her."

What was it? Sara thought, studying him. There was something almost familiar in his tone and the expression in his eyes. For a second, she wondered if he'd been a patient.

Keeping his back to Pearl, he continued. "And may I say that you are taking fine care of our girl?"

"I'm doing my best," Sara assured him.

"I'm sure you are." He seemed to grow a few inches as he stared down at her.

Sara didn't so much as blink. "And I won't stop caring for her until she is . . . well, herself again."

His eyes narrowed. "Good to know."

They stared at each other for a moment, and Sara wondered if the man felt some type of connection to her as well. What the hell was it? As if hearing her thoughts, Alistair's eyes darkened from baby blue to sapphire, and his nostrils flared as though he scented something unpleasant.

"I should be going," he uttered.

Sara heard Pearl mumble irritably under her breath, but she nodded at the man.

"I'll walk you out."

After Alistair said good-bye to Pearl, Sara followed him out of the room and down the hall. Her beeper went off and she glanced down to read the text. The tests she'd ordered for Gray were ready to go, while the bloods she'd been waiting for on Pearl couldn't be located. What the hell? The shift in her focus had been ten seconds max, but when she looked up again, Alistair Barnes had disappeared.

Alexander moved soundlessly down the hall, past the morgue, and into an alcove where he would be obscured yet could freely watch Sara through a small square of glass.

"You trying to blow my cover?" Dillon whispered beside him, deep sarcasm threading her tone. "Because you know how much I enjoy that."

"I needed to see her."

"Well, there she is. You saw her. Now fuck off back to the basement."

"You'd better watch yourself, Dillon," he warned softly.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, you're starting to sound a little like a possessive lover."

She turned and punched him in the very leg she'd healed an hour ago. "Shut up."

He grinned in the darkness. "Don't think I don't see it."

"See what? You're talking in circles."

"You like her." Alexander watched as Sara spoke to her brother, who was lying on his back, eyes closed. "I see the way you look at her."

"Morpho has screwed with your wiring, you know that?" Dillon uttered.

Alexander shrugged. "Can't say I blame you. She's something to see."

"Are we done here?"

"Your secret shame is your own, Dillon. Paven, veana, whatever you choose to lust over this week makes no difference to me, never has. Sara, however, is mine."

Dillon cursed. "You want to take over this assignment?"

"You know I cannot."

"Then shut it before I walk away and declare my debt paid in full."

Alexander chuckled softly, though his attention remained in a room he could barely see and in it, the woman he ached to touch. "So that's the brother."

"His name is Gray."

"They look alike."

"They're siblings, genius."

"What's she doing with the movie projector?"

"She has a theory about bringing back an old fear to his mind, then using temporary amnesia to place a new, gentle memory in its place. I heard her talking about it with the boss man this morning."

It happened in an instant. One moment Alexander felt nothing, the next every inch of his skin crawled with life. Eyes widening, he stared through the window, directly at Sara. "She wants to get rid of memory?"

"That is why the brother's here," Dillon said sardonically, as though she assumed he knew this information and was just trying to annoy her with questions. "Has been for years. Erasing traumatic memory from the brain is her life's work. You know, the fire she accidentally started when she was--" Dillon stopped talking. She turned, shook her head.

"No, Alexander."

Alexander didn't respond, his gaze still trained on the woman who refused to come home, the woman he refused to let walk out of his life.

Dillon shook her head. "You can't do it."

"Do what?"

"Oh, please."

"Chill out, Dillon."

"You're one selfish prick, you know that?"

He turned on her, growled his response, "It would be a gift to do this for her."

"A gift?" She snorted.

"Yes."

"No strings attached, right?" she said with obvious sarcasm.

"I have to go."

"Good."

"I have training."

"Maybe you should feed first, clear your head."

"Already done." He pushed away from the wall and without another word, headed for the tunnels.

Standing brazenly on the lawn outside of Dare's town house, Nicholas breathed in his two favorite scents: sex and drugs. His body screamed for both, pushed him to go inside and find both.

But that was an urge he kept hidden, an urge he was forced to quell.

He took out his phone, dialed.

Lucian answered before the first ring died. "Dare on the move again?"

"Long-term this time," Nicholas told him. "He's gone. They're all gone. Including Trainer, who I thought would've been easier to kill than a fly once upon a time."

"Shit. You checked the entire house? Every bedroom?"

Damn right he had, stayed a moment too long in each one, in fact. "Bet they've gone into hiding. After Alexander's minimassacre they know we mean business. Dare must truly fear us now."

"I would say so." Lucian was quiet for a moment, then, "You know we're running out of time--you're running out of time."

"We'll find him."

"I say we contact the 'eyes.' "

Nicholas shrank inside of himself, and the scent of sex and drugs from the town house interiors searched out his nostrils again. "We'll never be able to fully trust them."

"Doesn't matter at this point. We need the help, and they see everything." He could almost hear Lucian shrug. "But it's up to you. Those street rats were your past. If contacting them will bring back your need for gravo or--"

"No," Nicholas interrupted brusquely. "They'll have no effect on me now. I'll do it."

After ending the call, Nicholas pocketed his cell and turned from the town house, headed toward his car. The thought of gravo made his mouth water. The dried, poisoned blood was a fucking menace to vampire society. It had killed his mother, not to mention his years as a balas, but there wasn't a day that went by that he didn't think about it, or a night he didn't crave the complete silence of emotion and the utter deadening of pain it provided.