As a cold rush of awareness fell on Balz’s head, he pivoted around and faced the Brother. Butch O’Neal was a sharp dresser when he was off the clock, a great fighter when he was on it, and wicked handy—as he would have said—with a potato launcher. He’d also been up close and in person with—
“Hers?” Balz heard himself say.
“You remember what happened with the Omega. The woman—or yeah, whatever the fuck she is.”
“Oh, right.” Balz cleared his throat. Twice. “Right. Right, sure.”
His brain, his awareness, was like a Victorian stereoscope, where two flat photographs of the same thing were merged and became a three-dimensional image.
He felt like he couldn’t breathe. “Just curious. What did she look like?”
Butch shook his head as he glanced at his roommate, V, and then looked back over. “You mean, did I see her driver’s license?” Then he frowned. “Wait, you’re serious. What she looked like?”
“Yeah.” Balz shrugged and tried to appear casual. “I mean, if she’s out there on the streets of Caldwell, with some kind of shadow army, shouldn’t all of us have an idea of what she looks like?”
Butch shrugged and then nodded. “Good point. Ah, well . . . she’s pretty much the most beautiful brunette you’ve ever seen. Until you look her in the eye. And then . . . she’s horror and destruction and disease . . .” Butch made the sign of the cross over his heavy chest. “She is as enticing as poison in a rosebud.”
Conversation bubbled up at that point, the Brothers who had seen her chiming in. But it wasn’t like Balz needed any more descriptors—the truth was . . . he’d known the answer before he’d asked the question.
To make it like there was nothing wrong, he hung out for a little longer, and then he broke away, making sure he told Xcor he’d be right back. The locker room for males was next door, and as he stumbled inside, he went past the lineup of lockers to the row of sinks by the shower stalls. Running some water in one of the basins, he splashed his face and scrubbed the moisture off with some buff-colored paper towels from a dispenser.
Dropping his hands, he stared at himself in the mirror—
Don’t worry, I forgive you, lover boy.
As the female voice echoed through his head, he wheeled around. “I’m not yours for the taking,” he said to the shower stalls.
How ’bout we bet on that?
The locker room door opened, and he went for the gun he’d loaded—
Butch walked in, and the Brother’s stride was as casual as Balz had tried to make his own when he had left. That face, though, was not relaxed in the slightest, and those hazel eyes were knowing. You could tell the guy had been a cop in his earlier life as a human.
“Tell me where you’ve seen her.”
Good thing that as a thief, Balz was an accomplished liar. The truth, after all, was only one more safe to break into and steal from. You just did it with words instead of grabby hands.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about—”
“Don’t bullshit me.” Butch crossed his arms over his chest, his leather fighting jacket creaking. “It’s not going to help either one of us. When did you see her and what did she do to you.”
With a curse, Balz thought about that pause, that moment, when he’d been stuck in between saving his cousin and . . . whatever she was.
There shouldn’t have been any hesitation at all. And that’s what was terrifying him now.
“Tonight.” He took a deep breath. “Tonight at that psychic’s. And before that, during the day in my bedroom. She came to visit me and I thought I was dreaming, but she somehow scratched my back.”
Butch took a deep breath, as if he were relieved. “Good.”
“I’m sorry?” Balz said with a frown.
“I just, look, I know you’re a big boy and you can take care of yourself. I also know you would never lie about something like that.”
“Of course I wouldn’t.”
“I was just worried that you’d seen her. I’m glad you didn’t.”
“What?” Balz shook his head because clearly his ears weren’t working. “I just told you I did. That she was with me—”
“We can’t be too careful, you know. I feel like she’s kind of like an infection. Once she gets in you, she takes over until you die.” Butch clapped Balz on the shoulder. “Sorry that I was paranoid—and really glad she hasn’t crossed your path.”
Balz stared after the Brother in total confusion. When Butch got to the door, the fighter glanced over his shoulder and smiled.
“But hey, we get our hands on that Book and we’ve got all kinds of demon-icillin.”
“What?” Balz asked.
“Word has it that Book can be used for lots of fun things. Including getting rid of pesky trespassers—and I ain’t talking about your uncle Norman over the Christmas holiday.”