hage stomped his shitkicker into the ground and looked around the forest. Nothing. No sounds or smells of lessers. No evidence anyone had been through this quiet woodland spot for years. It had been the same for the other plots of land they'd visited.

"What the hell are we doing out here?" he muttered.

He knew the damn answer. Tohr had run across a lesser the night before on an isolated stretch of Route 22. The slayer had taken off into the forest on a dirtbike, but had lost a handy little piece of paper in the process: a list of large land parcels that were for sale on Caldwell's fringes.

Today, Butch and V had performed a search on all properties sold in the last twelve months in the city and surrounding burgs. About fifty sales of rural stretches of land had popped up. Rhage and V had visited five of them so far, and the twins were doing the same, covering others. Meanwhile, Butch was at the Pit, compiling the field reports, making a map, and looking for a pattern. It was going to take a couple of nights to get through all of the parcels, because patrols still had to be performed. And Mary's house had to be monitored.

Rhage paced around the woods, hoping some of the shadows would turn out to be lessers. He was beginning to hate tree branches. Goddamned teases as they blew in the wind.

"Where are those bastards?"

"Easy, Hollywood." V smoothed his goatee and tugged at his Sox hat. "Man, you're stoked tonight."

Stoked didn't cover it. He was nearly jumping out of his skin. He'd hoped staying away from Mary during the day would help, and he'd banked on finding a fight this evening. Had also counted on the exhaustion of sleep deprivation taking him down, too.

Yeah, well, no such luck on all fronts. He wanted Mary with an increasing desperation that no longer seemed tied to proximity. They hadn't found any lessers. And coming up on forty-eight hours of no shut-eye was only making him more aggressive.

Worse, it was now three A.M. He was running out of time for the battle release he so desperately needed. Damn it¡ª

"Rhage." V waved his gloved hand in the air. "You with me here at all, my brother?"

"Sorry, what?" He rubbed his eyes. His face. His biceps. His skin itched so badly he felt like he was wearing an ant suit.

"You are seriously out of it."

"Nah, I'm cool¡ª"

"Then why're you working your arms like that?"

Rhage dropped his hands. Only to start massaging his thighs.

"We've got to get you to One Eye," V said softly. "You're losing it. You need to have some sex."

"Fuck that."

"Phury told me how he found you out in the hall."

"You guys are a bunch of old maids, for real."

"If you won't do your female, and you can't find a fight, what's your alternative?"

"It's not supposed to be like this." He moved his head around, trying to loosen his shoulders and neck. "This isn't how it works. I just changed. It's not supposed to come out again¡ª"

"Supposed to in one hand, shit in the other, see what you get the most of. You're in a bad space, my brother. And you know what you have to do to get out of it, true?"

When Mary heard the door open, she came awake with a groggy disorientation. Shoot, she had another night fever.

"Rhage?" she mumbled.

"Yeah, it's me."

His voice sounded like hell, she thought. And he'd left the door to the room open, so he probably wasn't staying for long. Maybe he was still angry at her from that last phone call.

From inside the closet, she heard the shifting of metal and some fabric flapping, as if he were pulling on a fresh shirt. When he came out, he went right back for the hallway, his trench coat billowing behind him. The idea that he would leave without saying good-bye was somehow shocking.

As he gripped the doorknob, he paused. Light from the hall fell on his bright hair and his broad shoulders. His face was in profile, in darkness.

"Where are you going?" she asked as she sat up.

There was a long silence. "Out."

Why did he seem so apologetic? she wondered. She didn't need a babysitter. If he had business to attend to...

Oh... right. Women. He was going out after women.

Her chest cavity turned into a cold, damp pit, especially as she looked at the bouquet of flowers he'd given her. God, the idea of him touching someone else like she knew he could made her want to retch.

"Mary... I'm sorry."

She cleared her throat. "Don't be. There's nothing going on between us, so I don't expect you to change your habits for me."

"It's not a habit."

"Oh, right. Sorry, Addiction."

There was a long silence. "Mary, I... if there were another way¡ª"

"To do what?" She swept her hand back and forth. "Don't answer that."

"Mary¡ª"

"Don't, Rhage. It's none of my business. Just go."

"My cell phone will be on if you¡ª"

"Yeah. I'm really going to call."

He stared at her for a heartbeat. And then his black shadow disappeared through the door.