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“You wanted me to be real with you?” she asked. “Like I used to be?”

I nodded.

“Here’s something real,” she said. “If all you’re gonna do is get high and while away the next decade, you might as well turn yourself over to the demons now.”

I flinched as Sully stepped forward. She took me by the elbows and met my gaze.

“People care about you, Indy,” she said, “but you have to care, too. You have to decide that your short ass life has meaning, and that it’s something worth protecting. Loren certainly thought it was.”

The pity in her expression was too much, and I ducked away, hiding from her and a sudden rush of tears. Not tears, though, merely the feeling of them. The rush of heat and the sting around my eyes. I’d cried enough in recent days to know the sensations, but no moisture came.

“You said this wasn’t about him,” I muttered.

I knew Sully heard me, but she didn’t respond except to ask, “Is there a meeting tomorrow?”

There was always a meeting. If not at the community center, I could find another. New York had no shortage of misery seeking company.

“Yeah,” I said.

“Good.” She gave my arms a squeeze. “We’ve worked a lot on the Loren problem. I think it’s time we worked on you.”

It sounded like rehab, and I’d hated rehab. The therapists told us that staying clean was a lifelong commitment, often a lifelong struggle. Lives long. I wasn’t promised forever, and I wasn’t sure I wanted it. Not like this. Being hunted for sport, relentlessly chasing a high, and filled to the brim with memories of a man I might never see again.

“I’m not giving up.” I rubbed my aching eyes.

Sully pulled me in, and I sagged against her. “Neither am I,” she replied. “Not on either of you.”

She wrapped me up, and I could have cried again. Except I couldn’t. Maybe phoenix tears had a long refractory period. My reserves were empty and needed time to refill. Regardless, I buried my dry face in her shoulder, overcome with dozy, drowsy feelings that told me I might actually get some sleep tonight.

Yes, sleep sounded better and better, and tomorrow, I would work on me.

Loren

Nero waited impatientlyfor my tongue to grow back. Every time the door slid aside, he stripped off my muzzle, pried my teeth apart, and checked the void in my mouth. The vacancy infuriated him, then came more punishment.

The witch stayed around. She waited, too, for what must have been days, while Nero raged and I healed from cracked ribs and broken limbs.

So, when the door opened this time, I cringed and fisted my hands where they were tied to the metal hanger bar above my head. I winced and whimpered because I was a kicked dog who had grown too familiar with the taste of blood. Whatever bravery I’d had before was long gone.

“Bloody hell, you’re a sight,” an accented voice grunted, and a hand brushed past my face, reaching for the buckling closure at the nape of my neck.

It must have been Nero. It had to be, and I’d already resolved I’d bite him if he touched me again. Snap his fingers clean in half. He would beat me for it, but he would beat me anyway. At least I would get the satisfaction of maiming him. Or maybe itwould make him angry enough to kill me and put an end to all of this. It had to end eventually.

“This makes twice I’ve saved your arse. I hope you’re keeping track.” The voice spoke again, followed by a tug on my muzzle.

My eyes flashed open to find not Nero, but my blond-haired hellhound counterpart bent in close. With deft fingers, Whitney unfastened the muzzle and dropped it on the ground.

“For a man without much to say, they seem determined to shut you up,” he mused. Reaching to his hip, he unsheathed the glinting steel saber.

I grit my teeth, feeling exposed with my arms raised and fixed in place and my torso bared to his blade.

Noticing the tension that rippled through me, Whitney scoffed.

“Oh, come off it,” he said. “You think I came all this way to harm you? I said I’msavingyou. Again.”

The saber swished over my head, severing the bonds that tied my wrists. My arms fell to my sides, simultaneously numb and throbbing. It took effort to move them, but there was something I needed to investigate. Something I’d sensed days ago but hadn’t been able to confirm.

Raising one tingling hand to my neck, I touched the stretch of bare skin.