And some nitwit vampire had him on reloading duty. He was taking empty cartridges, filling them up, and sealing them using a reloader press. Oh, and he was cooking silver into shot, too, or rather coating regular shot with the stuff. Probably not as effective as solid pellets, but I wasn’t surprised we were running short of precious metals to toss randomly at the enemy. The vampires stored surprising amounts of things that would hurt each other, but even their paranoia had limits, and we were bumping up against them.

He cranked out another shell on the press, then slotted it home into the shotgun, snapped the breech shut, and put the weapon aside on a rack. Then he saw me, and stopped for a second.

Neither of us said a word.

My brother was a little shorter than me, not really muscular, kinda weedy and angular. He wore his hair longer than Shane’s, and most of it flopped down and hid his dark eyes. That was for the best. He had cold eyes, my brother. Really cold.

There was a scar on his forehead, angling from left to right. It looked pretty fresh. There was also a bruise on his jaw.

“Sis,” he said. It was a nothing kind of voice, waiting for me to make a move. I didn’t, because I didn’t dare; I’d walked in here alone, and as far as I knew nobody knew where I was. Not Michael, who was hanging out with Shane today; not Claire, who was locked in the lab with Myrnin. I was dreadfully and irrationally afraid that he would somehow know that, know I was alone and vulnerable.

Deep down inside, he was a sociopath, and I’d helped make him into that by walking away from him when he needed me. By locking my doors and covering my ears and not doing what a big sister was supposed to do: protect him.

So I couldn’t hate him. I could only fear what he’d become.

“I didn’t know—” Didn’t know they let you out of jail. “They put you to work here.”

“You know vamps. Practical,” he said, and shrugged. “No point in having prisoners if you can’t get some kind of value out of them. They don’t believe in rehab. It’s all racks and iron maidens with them.”

He was only joking a little, and darkly. The vampires weren’t into torture these days, but they also weren’t forgiving. And Jason had tested their mercy, a lot. He was lucky to be alive, and he knew it. My brother had a lot of sins on his conscience. He’d helped me sometimes, but he’d quit trying to be a better person some time ago, and I’d quit trying to help him.

So there was that between us, too.

“How are you doing?” It was an inane question, really, and I almost winced when I heard how it sounded. He tossed his hair back and smiled. Not a sane sort of smile, but it might have been for effect. I hoped it was.