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After Wrath showed Doc Jane out, he went right back to the bed. As he sat down, Beth took his hand and squeezed it.

As his brother paced and smoked, and they both waited for Havers to return with the knockout drops … for some reason, he thought back to his parents.The memories that he had of his mother and father were all about the Norman Rockwell—well, dub in the Old Country language and change the stage set to a medieval castle theme. But yeah, those two had had the perfect relationship. No arguments, no anger, just love.

Nothing had ever come between them. Not his father’s job, not the court they lived in, not the citizenry they served.It was yet another standard set in the past that he was failing to live up to—V let out a strange sound, part gasp, part curse.

Swallow your smoke wrong? Wrath said dryly.Right next to him, the chair where Havers had been sitting didn’t creak so much as curse—like V had thrown all of his weight into the thing.

When the brother finally answered, his voice was low, too low. I see you…

No, no, no. Wrath burst up. I don’t want know, V. If you’re having one of your visions, do not tell me what it—Shoving her hair out of her face, she found a blanket over her legs that she didn’t remember putting there … her suitcase just inside the door … and a silver tray set on the bedside table.

Fritz. The butler must have come sometime during the day.Rubbing her sternum, she looked at the empty pillow next to her, the undisturbed sheets, the lack of Wrath—and felt worse than she had the night before.

To think she’d assumed they’d hit bottom. Or that space would help—Crap, Wrath? she called out as she jumped off the bed.