Beth went and picked him up, cocking her hip to one side so he sat better, as she carried him back to us. 'Fen, this is my big brother, Mike. Remember I told you about him?'

The little boy gave solemn eyes to Micah. 'Are you my big brother, too?'

Before Micah could answer, there was a shrill little-girl scream from the hallway. We all looked up and the screamer raced toward us in a Disney Princess nightgown, long, dark gold braid flying straight out behind as she ran shrieking toward us. An older boy with short brown hair was running after her, yelling, 'I am going to kill you!'

Bea said, 'Hawthorne!'

Hawthorne? Oh, right, I remembered. Second husband was a literature professor. Poor kid.

The little girl flung herself into her mother's arms as Ty Morgan said, 'Hawthorne, that is not how we talk to each other in this house.'

'She spilled Kool-Aid all over my backpack! She's not even supposed to be in our room!'

'I did not!' the girl said, with her little arms around her mother's neck and her face buried in Bea's hair.

'Liar, I saw you. If I hadn't had to save my homework, I'd have caught you before you hid behind Mom!' His face was flushed with that peculiar rage you reserve for siblings. He looked like he had a light permanent tan, and his hair was cut very short and old-fashioned, like a 1950s boy cut. He looked about eleven or twelve years old. His bright blue eyes glittered with his anger. He was seriously pissed. I wondered if he had a bad temper normally or if it was special for what was happening at the hospital. Then I realized that Rush wasn't his daddy. His dad, Ty, was standing there, all good as ever.

Micah's mom was stroking the girl's long gold braid. 'It's okay, Frost. Did you spill Kool-Aid on Hawthorne's backpack? Tell the truth; no one will be angry.'

Frost raised her face and looked behind at her brother. All we could see was the back of her head. 'Hawthorne is mad now.'

I thought she had a point.

'You know you're not allowed to drink or eat in the bedrooms,' Bea said.

Frost hung her head. 'I'm sorry, Mommy, I forgot.'

'Apologize to Hawthorne,' Ty said.

She mumbled her apology.

'That's it?' the boy demanded. 'She spills shit all over my school backpack and some of my homework and gets off with an apology?'

'Don't use vulgarisms,' Ty said automatically. 'Frost is going to help you clean off the backpack, and we'll think of something else suitable to remind her she's not allowed to take food back to the bedrooms.'

Hawthorne rolled his eyes. He looked up at us as if we'd just appeared before him. Anger will blind you to a lot, but seven strangers in your living room seemed like something you'd notice. Emotions flowed over his face, and he finally settled on arrogant defiance, but his eyes were wary, almost nervous. He'd looked us over and done a quick assessment of physical potential, which made me put his age up a bit, at least twelve, and he was in some sport that made him aware of physical potential. He'd done the math and knew that there were a lot of other males in the room who could kick his ass.

'What sport do you play?' I asked.

He looked startled at having to drag his attention away from the bodyguards who towered behind us. 'Football and jujitsu.'

I nodded. 'I figured some kind of martial arts.'

'Why?' he asked, blue eyes narrowing.

'The way you sized up the men.'

'What do you mean?'

'You know what I mean,' I said.

He looked at me, and he saw me not as a woman, or a grown-up, but as a person. He was almost my height exactly. 'What martial art do you do?'

'I started out in judo, but now I do mixed martial arts.'

'You do MMA?' he asked, and couldn't keep the suspicion out of his voice.

I nodded. 'I do.'

He looked behind us at the other men again. 'What do they do?'

'Same thing,' I said.

'She trains with us,' Ares said.

Hawthorne looked suspicious again. 'Really?'

'Really,' Nicky, Dev, and I said at the same time.

Hawthorne looked at Micah next. 'You're Mike, aren't you?'

'Yes,' Micah said.

Hawthorne studied his face, then nodded. 'You look like Beth.'

'I know.'

'Do you work out with them?' Hawthorne asked.

'No.'

'Why not?'

'Because in my job my life doesn't depend on my fighting skills.'

Hawthorne looked back at me. 'What's your job?'

I moved my jacket so he could see the badge at my waist.

'U.S. Marshal. Are you here to help catch who hurt Rush?'

'I'm here with Micah, Mike. I'm his fiancee, but yeah, since I'm already here I thought I'd help out.'

He looked at Nathaniel. 'Who are you?'

'Hawthorne,' his mother said, as if he'd been rude.

'What?' he asked.