Yvette decided not to comment. Whichever way Zane got his kicks, she didn’t really care. All she cared about was that he’d saved her life. And for that, she owed him. On impulse, she pulled his head to her and kissed him on the cheek.

“Thanks, buddy.”

She laughed when he pulled away, his lips pulled into a snarl. Zane hated any show of affection and even more so when it was directed at him—and Yvette knew it. She smiled.

“Bitch! Let’s go. I have a blackout van outside.”

“First, we’ll have to warn Gabriel. Ricky’s the rogue.”

“We already know. I’ll fill you in on the way. We’re setting up a command post at Thomas’ house.”

By the time they pulled the van into Thomas’ garage, which was located underneath his house, Zane had filled her in on most of the details. Behind them, Yvette heard the garage door roll shut. She gave it another couple of seconds before she opened the door of the van and jumped out. Zane killed the engine and followed her.

Yvette rubbed her chafed wrists. In the blackout van she’d helped herself to the supplies of bottled blood, but it would take several hours for the wounds to heal. The silver had painfully eaten away the outer layers of her skin, exposing the raw, pink flesh underneath. But she could deal with that. The pain inside her however, was harder to push away. One of their own had tried to kill her. Betrayal like that always cut deep.

She glanced behind her as she ascended to the upper level of Thomas’ house. Zane had a grim expression on his face, his lips drawn into a thin line. When he caught her look, he growled. Kissing him on the cheek to thank him for her rescue had clearly rattled him. It made her chuckle.

Hardass.

“One word about what happened back there and I’ll string you up myself.”

She shook her head and turned the door knob as she reached the top of the stairs, not bothering to reply. As she pushed the door open and took a step into the foyer, she recoiled.

“Fuck!”

Yvette slammed the door shut and bumped into Zane behind her.

“What’s wrong?”

“Daylight,” she hissed. “He’s got the shutters open.”

A moment later the door opened, and Thomas’ frame silhouetted against the light from behind him. “It’s all right, come in.”

“You’re fucking kidding me.” Yvette tried to move further back into the shadows.

Thomas reached out his hand. “It’s not natural light. Come, let me show you.”

Hesitantly, she followed him into the open-plan living area. The large room was flooded with light. As her eyes adjusted, she took in the room. Instinctively she hid behind Thomas—the room had floor-to-ceiling windows on two sides, and through them she saw the world outside.

“What the …?”

Thomas beckoned her closer to the windows. He seemed unconcerned. Outside, it was clearly daytime, and the light flooding through the windows should have turned him into toast within seconds, but there he stood, right in front of one of the large windows, admiring the view over the city below.

“It’s not real,” he claimed as he turned back to her.

Zane stepped closer, his mouth dropping open at the sight. “It’s not a picture,” Zane said. “There are cars moving. Live feed?”

Thomas nodded. “The house is equipped with cameras all around, filming what’s going on outside right at this moment. It projects the images onto the special shutters I’ve had designed. They block out the sunlight like regular shutters, but I can project film onto them. What you see on them is what you would see if the windows were clear. The projections are accurate depictions of what’s going on right outside.”

“Ingenious.” Zane nodded his approval.

“And the light?”

“A new kind of light bulb that mimics daylight. Pretty realistic by the looks of your reaction.” Thomas smiled at her, and she finally exhaled.

“I’d say.” Only now she realized they weren’t alone. In one corner Eddie stood talking on his cell phone. And to the left where Thomas had several computer screens hooked up, Amaury sat, the phone pressed to his ear.

“Ricky tried to kill me.”

Thomas nodded, his mood solemn. He seemed to notice her damaged wrists now. “We figured as much. Do you want blood?”

“I’m good. I had some in the car. What I want is Ricky’s head on a stick.”

Amaury turned to them. “Good to see you, Yvette.” The sound in his voice told her he meant it. They hadn’t always been on the best of terms, but at least now she knew who she could trust.