Christoph's call came at four-eighteen AM.

"Reese, I need your help."

"Christoph? Where are you?"

"We're on the corner of Second and Battery."

"We? Is Josh with you?"

"No. He stayed to fight. The hive is at war. I'm with Willem. He's been injured. I can't go to my apartment."

Christoph's speech came out between gasps. He sounded exhausted, and I sat up as Vincent turned on the light. We had fallen asleep on Mr. Pearlman's couch, or at least I had.

"The hive is at war and Willem is injured," I said to Vincent as I set my phone on the coffee table and put Christoph on speaker. "What do you need me to do, Christoph? Is Willem hurt bad enough to need a doctor?"

"I wouldn't be calling, otherwise. I've got supplies at my place, but I'm rooming with traitors. It wouldn't be safe for him. Could we meet you at your old apartment? Do you have any iodine, and maybe a sling?"

"But you said you're on Second and Battery. That's nowhere near my apartment."

Silence followed and I looked at Vincent. His dark eyebrows were bunched over his eyes. His contemplative look.

"Does he have money for a cab to NYU at Trinity?" Vincent said.

"Christoph, do you have..."

"Yes, I have enough money for a cab, but Willem doesn't have money or health insurance. Hell, he doesn't have an identity. And what if they want to give him blood?"

"Get Willem admitted to the ER and keep them away from his veins other than a glucose drip," Vincent said as he leaned over the phone. "We'll discuss the details later. Expect us within the hour."

"Um, okay. Thanks." Christoph's sober tone lingered in the quiet after he hung up, and I did my best not to dwell on the worst, like war. They were both alive and that was a lot to be grateful for. Vincent continued to stare at my phone, but I didn't think he was wondering when the screen would dim.

"I'm sorry, Vincent. I know you didn't want to get involved."

"Willem is your grandfather. If he needs medical treatment, he will get it."

"I will pay for his treatment. I'm already knee-deep in debt to your family."

Vincent lifted his head, looking insulted. "You are a member of the domus, Reese. There are no debts among family."

Tell that to my guilty conscience.

~ ~ ~

Behind the hospital curtain, Willem submitted his body for inspection. Four attendants hovered over him, that was eight hands poking and prodding, and he looked like he would rather be anyplace else, maybe even the hive. His wound started at the shoulder and continued across his chest, obviously inflicted by a large blade or talon. Vincent and I joined Christoph where he leaned against the opposite wall, watching the proceedings with a wary, albeit swollen eye. It appeared he needed treatment as well.

"The doctors are deciding whether Willem needs surgery to repair the muscle," Christoph told us. "But it's already starting to repair itself. They've brought in two specialists to document it."

"How did Willem get the wound?" I asked.

Christoph shook his head as his gaze fell to the floor. "I never thought I would see it. A hive queen being overthrown. Most of us knew it was coming, I just thought we would have more time." His voice trailed off and I touched his arm, hoping Vincent would keep it together while I offered my friend comfort.

"It's okay, Christoph. You don't have to..."

"Willem and two other guards battled an army triple their size to protect Cecile," he went on. "The only reason Willem is alive is because Hadria tasked him with taking her mother's body out of the hive to bury it. Then she banished him. Me and few others left the hive to help. Willem was in no condition to dig a grave."

A lump rooted in my throat as Christoph told his story, and I realized I didn't want to hear any more. "You need to have your eye looked at."

"Save it," he said, holding up a bloody hand. "I already told the nurses I didn't want them touching me." Christoph turned to scowl at the activity happening around Willem, and I knew he was done talking. One of the attendants broke away from the group, looking at Christoph then at Vincent, then slowing her gate as she approached.

"Your friend insists he doesn't need surgery," she said. "But he has lost a lot of blood, and he is refusing that as well."

"He'll take my blood if I donate it," Christoph told her. "Otherwise, just sign him out and we'll take our chances."

The woman assessed Christoph with wide, uncomprehending eyes. "We have all blood types at our disposal."

"That's not it. He doesn't trust any of you, but he trusts me." Christoph offered the nurse his hardcore, Navy Seal impersonation, and she swallowed it whole.

"Then that's what we'll do, but I'll have to get you cleaned up. Will you let us do that now?"

Christoph grunted his agreement, looking like a lost boy being led to certain doom. I wanted to hug him, but all I could do was call out to his retreating back.

"Meet us in the coffee shop afterwards, Christoph."

After an hour of waiting, Christoph showed up to share a hot beverage with me and Vincent. His drink of choice turned out to be an iced coffee, and the three of us crowded around a small table to discuss serious stuff.

"I need to go back," Christoph said as he lifted his eyes from his plastic cup. "Cecile's loyalists are severely outnumbered."

"Then you will be walking into your execution," Vincent warned.

"And if I don't fight, I'm a coward."

"Wanting to live is not cowardly. It is instinctual," Vincent said. "An intelligent man will walk away from a fight defeated, rather than die for a cause that failed. At the least, he can lead others away from their deaths." Vincent sipped from his cup as Christoph studied him.

"Do you think I should lead them away? Should I go back and convince my comrades to save themselves?"

"That's up to you. How long has the battle been raging?"

"Probably ten hours."

"How many of Cecile's loyalists do you think are left defending the lost cause?" Vincent pegged Christoph with a tough as nails gaze, which may have come across as callous to some, but from one warrior to another, it seemed perfectly appropriate.

"I figure only those who turned traitor or fled the hive are still living." Christoph hung his head over his iced coffee, looking like he wanted to drown in it.

"How many of you live in Manhattan?" Vincent said. "About thirteen?"

"Yes."

"And of those thirteen, how many can you trust now?"

Christoph sat for a while. "If Josh comes out of this alive, then one."

"How old are you, Christoph?" Vincent asked.

"Twenty-nine."

"And what are your interests... outside the demon realm?"

Christoph eyeballed his adversary carefully. Was Vincent pushing too far? "I like to cook."

"So, you aspire to be a chef. Why don't you focus on that now?" Vincent offered.

"I'm in no position to do that. I have no birth records. I don't exist in the system."

"And what of your negotiator, Fredrik? He claimed to be Harvard trained," Vincent went on.

"Only those who show a talent for something are given the privilege of higher education. Cecile handed out false identities to a choice few. I was raised to do battle. The old standby. As ancient as the stones of Babylon."

Vincent surveyed Christoph critically, dare I say, compassionately. "It also helps when you have the right connections. Now that you have lost your shepherd, it is time to find a new one."

"Sounds like good advice. Do you know any shepherds?" Christoph forced a smirk before staring into his cup again.

"I have a friend who recently opened a bistro on the Upper East Side," I said. "He may be able to find a spot for you in the kitchen."

"If Shane cares about keeping his restaurant license, he won't be handing out aprons to someone without a social security number," Vincent said. "But, I know a guy who doesn't mind dealing in cash."

"I don't want to fly under the radar anymore," Christoph argued. "That's what Hadria is telling her loyalists. No more hiding. We are going to join the human masses. She has been planning it for years. Everyone gets a false identity and moves into the cities. Only the queen, her mates, and her young will live in the hive."

Dayum.

Christoph's bomb dropped like a silencer, stunning the table into a tangible quiet. Of course, Vincent recovered without any signs of trauma.

"Why didn't you stay with your hive, then? If Hadria can give you what you want..."

"Because Hadria is a cunt and she murdered my grandmother," Christoph growled.

"And when your comrades move back to the city after the war, where will you stand?" Vincent said, giving Christoph no time to go on a rant.

"I don't know. Maybe when the image of Cecile's rapidly decomposing body is out of my head, I'll be able to forgive a few. Otherwise, I'm essentially a rogue. Willem too. He will never forgive. He wants to be with Petula. He tried to talk me into flying him to Chicago, but he never would have made it."

"Is there a hive closer to Chicago where Willem could live?" I asked.

"Yes, but if Hadria's influence reaches as far as we think it does, he won't be given sanctuary there."

"Do you think Hadria has convinced the other hive queens to let their offspring off the leash?" Vincent said. "And I mean that in the most respectful way I can."

Christoph shrugged his indifference. "I know for a fact Hadria communicates with Kimbra from Dakota. Some messages are extremely sensitive and are sent old-school. I've made that trip before. It's a bitch."

"If Hadria's plan is accepted by the northern queens, surely that will mean more work for the gollums, as well as the humans."

"Maybe, maybe not," Christoph offered blandly. "But Hadria is a cunt, so she probably has something treacherous planned."

~ ~ ~

Willem ended-up earning himself a private room, compliments of Vincent's local cred, and we ventured to the second floor so I could introduce my gollum mate to my demon grandfather.

"I will find a way to repay you," Willem said as soon as the niceties were handled. "It is not wise to owe your enemy a debt."

"You are not our enemy, Willem," I said. "And now is not the time to worry about debts. You need to focus on healing."

He glanced down at the bandages covering his chest and arm. "I will have no problem recovering from this injury. I have been through many battles."

"What are Hadria's motives with this takeover?" Vincent asked.

Willem shook his head. "I was kept ignorant of Hadria's deception, but I have speculations. Much of Hadria's ire began about the time Gabrielle defected to the gollums. Cecile was hurt by Gabbie's betrayal and she withdrew into her nest for a long time, speaking to no one, not even Hadria. I believe this gave Hadria time to plot her course."

"Do you think Hadria will have her loyalists continue their pursuit of Reese?" Vincent said.

Willem turned and leveled me in a dark-eyed gaze, letting me see as far as I wanted to go. "Yes. This I am sure of, but to what extent, I do not know. I suggest you stay wary."

With Willem's grave observation following us, Vincent and I left the hospital and made for Trinity Church for my daily shoot. One of the partners happened to be there, and he delayed us talking to Vincent about the project finishing ahead of schedule. When we finally arrived home, a package and a certified letter were waiting for Vincent at the security desk.

Tucking them both under his arm without comment, Vincent stepped into the sex elevator and I followed on his heels. While my curious nature wondered about the mail he'd received, I couldn't stop thinking about our erotic encounter, and Vincent wore a ghost of a smile as we traveled upward. Was he thinking about the mail under his arm or the encounter?

"Why don't we have someone else stay with Mr. Pearlman tonight?" he said.

"Who would we ask? I've imposed on Griffin and Amelia a lot already."

"I don't think they mind, but I was going to suggest we use this." He ripped the tape loose from the box and opened it, only to pull out another box. This one had a picture of a futuristic-looking camera on it.

"What is that? It looks like a robot from the next Star Wars movie."

"It's a high-tech baby monitor with visual and audio capabilities. Top of the line."

"And you want to use it on Mr. Pearlman? He's a grown man. He won't want a camera tracking his movements."

Vincent smirked. "Are you afraid you'll see him doing something inappropriate?"

"Please, don't give me that visual. It's ruining the amazing image I have of being tied to this railing."

A wide grin split across Vincent's face as he stretched for the panel and pressed the stop button. "Then I'll just have to replace the ruined image with another amazing one."