"I need a few minutes alone."

That was all Vincent said before he stalked off to his mahogany office. I knew why he'd chosen his office rather than the bedroom. His liquor was in there, although in the three months I'd known him, he rarely used alcohol to deal with his emotions and he always drank in moderation. The control Vincent held over his behavior bordered on the obsessive, and it made me wonder how easily he could pop-off if he didn't keep himself in check.

As I prepared our dinner of fried rice and lettuce wraps with hummus, I thought about the reasons Vincent might need a stiff drink rather than a meditation session. The first and most obvious was his worries about our baby. After Dr. Hardwick confirmed that everything was peaches and sunshine with our little bean, he seemed to get worse rather than better. Had he seen something the rest of us hadn't? Was he trying to find the best way to break it to me?

I separated the lettuce leaves and held them under the tap as I pondered reason number two. Was the reality hitting that his child had demon lineage, and he didn't know how to process it? It hurt me to think that might be the cause, and, deep down, I didn't think that was it. But something he saw on the screen triggered his extreme reaction, and the more time he spent ensconced inside his office, the more anxious I grew.

When dinner was ready and waiting, I ventured down the hall and knocked on his door. "Dinner's ready, Vincent."

Silence answered me on the other side, but I heard the gentle tap of a lowball glass on polished mahogany This was followed by the groan of a chair then solid footfalls as my goliath husband walked to the door. He hesitated on the other side, and I imagined his hand on the doorknob when I heard it creak against his weight. I felt the pain of his tortured soul even without seeing him. This was something serious.

The door opened, and my heart started beating again, but seeing his face didn't help a bit. Angst was written clearly in his tired eyes and slack jaw, and the sting of hard liquor hit me in the face as he stood over me.

"You look like hell," I said, trying for anything to lighten the mood.

"I'm in hell, so that's a fair assessment." He walked away, and I was forced to talk to his back.

"What's that supposed to mean? We left Doctor Hardwick's office with great news, and you're acting like you've been condemned."

"It wasn't all great news," he grumbled as he pulled up a barstool and sat in front of his plate.

Damn. Was I right about Vincent noticing something the rest of us missed? I only saw a perfect little bean. I took my seat and swiveled to look at him. "Alright, Vincent. Now you have me really worried. Tell me what news wasn't great."

Vincent finally acknowledged me, pulling me into his swirling gray waters. "The date of conception, Reese. You were in the hive on that date. We hadn't been together yet."

"Wait a minute... What?"

"November sixth. Christoph took you to the hive that night. The night I lost you. Maybe I really did."

I stared at him with my mouth deliberately gaping. I needed him to see how stunned I was by his accusation. "And we got together twenty-four hours later. Do you really want to base a serious accusation like that on twenty-four fucking hours?"

"That depends on who's doing the fucking." The light in his eyes switched from gray to silver, and I watched his restraint slacken. Not only was he intoxicated, he was drunk with jealousy.

"Think carefully about what you're saying," I warned, knowing I was treading dangerous waters. But I wasn't backing down on this.

"I have been thinking carefully, and it's gotten me nowhere. The only thing left to do is ask if you..." Vincent fisted his hand on the counter, and I watched him tighten the restraint again. "Did you have sex with anyone at the hive?"

"Oh, so it's not just Christoph you think I had sex with? It's anyone?"

"Of course, I'm thinking of Christoph. I just wanted to cover all bases."

Again, I gaped at him, wondering how a gollum could be so thick-headed. Was he used to being cheated-on? Would he believe me if I told the truth? I didn't even want to give him an answer. He didn't deserve one.

"I feel like I don't even know you, Vincent," I said flatly. "Sure, I know you've endured painful losses in the past, but you can't let those setbacks cripple you. In simple terms, don't let your past fuck-up your present."

Vincent's eye grew wide, and I stood from my stool, preparing to make a quick exit as I bravely went on. "I know you need to have control. It's part of who you are, and I try to be understanding about it. But you have to trust me or you're going to lose me. And since I'm not planning on going anywhere, you need to get straight with that or you'll be married to a miserable wretch."

I wanted to bolt from the room and cry my eyes out, but I refused. His allegation cut me deep. It had me questioning everything we'd gone through together. Did he really think so little of my willpower? I had risked my life for him. Or did this go deeper? Did he feel undeserving of my fidelity? Whatever it was, Vincent seemed to just realize it as he reached out to me.

"It might have worked to just deck me and tell me to get my head out of my ass." Looking like a beaten man, he tugged me closer, and I let him pull me in despite the voice telling me to make him suffer a bit longer. But the fact that my rant hadn't triggered a rampage silenced the voice. I didn't even tell him he was smothering me as he tucked me under his bulging biceps.

"I may be stubborn, but I'm not crazy." I spoke into his shirt, smelling the thick aroma of his angry passion mixed with single malt scotch. "You scared me, Vincent."

"I'm sorry. I was scared too."

"Everything is happening so fast for us. We really don't know each other that well."

Vincent looked down at me and lifted my chin with his finger. "Only time can give us that. And I can't promise there won't be more scary shit. Never forget you're not alone here. Whenever my head gets stuck up my ass and you want to leave it there, you can always seek refuge with another Valentino."

I smiled, loving the way his curses slipped effortlessly into his language. "I know, but I hope I never have to. If I can't rely on you, then we have a big problem."

He nodded soberly. "So, how can we remedy that?"

I glanced at our dinner still waiting patiently to be served. "Why don't we pretend it's our first date and you're not expecting me to already know everything about you from your Wikipedia entry?"

Vincent smirked as he waved his hand at my seat. "I'll serve. You go first."

I felt a little foolish for suggesting the first date thing, but also giddy at the thought of being given carte blanche into Vincent's head. What did I want to know about him that I hadn't already figured out? "Okay, take me back to a day in the life of Wren and Roberto Valentino... when you and your brothers were just kids. Maybe a family trip."

"That's an easy one. Our cabin in the Catskills holds the most fond memories for me. My father taught me how to fish in that lake. I would help him clean and filet our catch and Wren would cook them on the grill. I know that probably sounds like every other family in the world, but those times were rare for us."

Vincent talked as he scooped fried rice onto my plate, and I snagged a lettuce wrap from the serving tray and took a healthy bite. He didn't seem to mind that I hadn't waited or that I talked around my food. "Any specific trip stand-out for you?"

A line formed between Vincent's eyebrows as he gave my question scrutiny. "It would have to be the last time we visited the cabin as a family. Colin was four, and he was already eager to grow his wings. After watching me and Jonathan practice flying on the beach, he climbed the tree and jumped from a branch into the lake. He didn't make the lake, and we ended-up leaving the cabin early to get his broken arm casted."

"It sounds like he has always aspired to be like you."

"He doesn't want to be like me. He wants to be better than me."

"In what way? Battle skills? Flying ability?"

"In every way. Even Girlfriends."

"Girlfriends? Do tell." I smiled coyly.

"For starters, at least half the girls I dated, Colin dated after me."

"Did that bother you?"

"At first it did, until it became a running joke in the family and Colin dropped the game. Then you came along." He shook his head and a flash of silver glinted in his eyes. "Colin thought he had hit the jackpot when he found you first."

Vincent pursed his lips as he took a bite of dinner, and I couldn't help reminiscing about that night. Both brothers had made an impact, but Vincent's scent had done something to me that tipped the scales in his favor. "But he couldn't keep his winnings, could he? Because you were my jackpot."

Vincent turned and grinned at me "Nicely done. Okay, give me a day in the life of Reese and her brother, Theo. You said he owned a Camaro. Did you two take it out for joyrides?"

A smile popped onto my face as I chewed and swallowed, rushing to answer. "Where do I begin? There was the time we ran into a spray paint artist, and he let us make our mark on his canvas. The guy later hooked us up with backstage passes to The Shins, although that didn't end well."

"Oh? How did it end?"

"We discovered that Theo had a low tolerance for tequila and dudes who try to grab his sister's boobs."

Vincent clenched his fist around his fork. "When was this concert? Do you remember the guy?"

"Lower your guns, chief. That was a good five years ago. And I got a crotch shot in before Theo beat the guy's ass. So you don't have to seek revenge."

"That doesn't sound like a good night."

"With my attacker in the hospital and Theo in jail, it was not one of my finer moments. But we had many excellent adventures in the Canary Camaro."

"Was that Theo's name for his car?"

"No. It was mine, and he hated it." I smiled as I finished off my lettuce wrap and started on the fried rice. I could feel Vincent's stare as I took my first bite, and when I looked at him, he was studying me. "What?"

"You had to fight off a lot of guys, didn't you?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. How many is a lot?"

"I'll bet it was more than average. It's your gollum aspects, Reese. Men are attracted to your sensual nature. Even women."

His lips tweaked as he made his not-so-subtle reference to me and Sylvie. He'd been trying to coax out the details of my sexually promiscuous times with my bestie, but I'd been using the unspoken bedroom confidentiality agreement as my defense for spilling those beans. Besides, most of our moments happened when we were with other people, and I didn't want Vincent haunted by images of me in a gangbang.

"Put the blame where you want to, it made for a number of nights not ending well."

Vincent's phone rang, and he leaned over the counter to look at the screen. "It's Magister Montaglia. I should take this."

"Of course. Find out what Rudy has to say."

I waved him away, and he ducked into the small hallway but not out of sight. Typically, he liked to keep his conversations private, but this time he didn't walk into his office. Instead, he paced outside the door, giving me an opportunity to catch his side of the conversation.

"When did Marguerite's scouts make contact with the guy?" he said as his feet pounded a rhythm against the floor. "Did he match the description I gave you? No kidding. That's a helluva long life for a demon who should have died in battle two hundred years ago. The lapel pin? Were they able to detain him at the hive? Christ. How many casualties? That's unfortunate. What kind of freakshow are we dealing with?"

Vincent continued to burn a hole in the floorboards while I watched him pace. What the hell was this zombie demon up to? Was he tormenting hives? And what about the lapel pin? Was the sneaky shit using it against demons? Did it have some kind of supernatural power we weren't aware of?

When Vincent finally hung up the phone, I was so eager for him to fill in the blanks, I popped off my seat to meet him. "So, what did Rudy say? I heard something about our zombie friend tormenting the Paris hive."

"Good. I wanted you to hear that." There were worry lines etched into his forehead as he took his seat. "The guy arrived at the Paris hive with a message from the necromancer."

"What? The real necromancer? The one who should have died but is rumored to have made a comeback?"

"Yes. And this guy was his delivery boy. Based on his description, it was our thief. He didn't talk, but the letter he delivered said the necromancer was in possession of the lapel pin, which apparently reeked of his own magic. He wants the hives to know he now has a trail that will lead him to the artifact he seeks. Namely, the book of spells. Then he will return to his former glory."

"Oh, shit. That doesn't sound promising. But how do we know this is the real necromancer? Are we taking this zombie demon's word for it?"

"Marguerite is. She claims the demon who delivered the message used to be in the queen's guard two centuries ago but was lost in battle. She had offspring by him. His name is Simon."

"Wow. That's what I call ancient history. So, what's our next move? Should we leave the book where it is?"

He looked at his half-full plate like he couldn't eat another bite. "I don't know yet. I need to speak with the other magisters."

I picked up my plate and walked it to the sink. "If it's alright with you, I'd like to end our date on that note. I need to check on Mr. Pearlman, anyway."

"Sure. While you do that, I'll make a call to Sergio and Louis. Dinner was delicious, by the way. Your cooking is rivaled only by the way you look standing in the kitchen with your nipples showing through your shirt."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to make amends for behaving like a brute after the ultrasound." I leaned across the counter, getting as close to Vincent as my belly would allow. "And because I'm a good sport, I will repeat something I've told you several times before. Since the day we met, it has only been you."