I grimaced, tottered over to the couch, and plopped down on it. "Sticks and stones may break your bones, but Chinese throwing stars get you a dozen stitches." I drew the ghoul's weapon from my pocket by way of illustration and tossed it down on the coffee table. "How's Butters?"

"Fine," Thomas said. "Funny little guy. Made an awful racket with that… polka thing of his for about half an hour, babbled for forty minutes straight, and fell asleep eating dinner. I put him on the bed."

"He's had a stressful day," I said.

"He's a coward," Thomas said.

I glared at him and started to snarl something harsh and defensive.

He held up a hand and hurried to speak. "Don't take that wrong, Harry. He's smart enough to understand what's happening. And he's smart enough to know that there's not a damned thing he can do about it. He knows the only reason he's alive is that someone else is protecting him. He isn't kidding himself that he's somehow done it because of his own cleverness or skill." Thomas glanced at the door to the bedroom. "He doesn't know how to deal with the fear. It's strangling him."

I propped my aching leg up on the coffee table. "Thank you for your professional opinion, Counselor."

Thomas gave me a level look. "I've seen it before. I know what I'm talking about."

"Whatever," I said.

"When you were attacked in the morgue last night, he froze. Didn't he."

I shrugged one shoulder. "Not everyone is cut out for the battlefield."

"But he froze," Thomas said. "You had to scream orders into his ear and haul him around like luggage, right?"

"That doesn't make him a coward."

"He lets his fear control him. That's what a coward is, Harry."

"A lot of people would react the same way," I said.

"A lot of people aren't making themselves into excess baggage for my brother," he shot back.

"No one does well their first time out," I said.

"It isn't an isolated incident," Thomas said. "You told me that when he reported on the corpses taken from Bianca's manor, and they locked him up in the nuthouse."

"So?"

"So do you think he got his job back without backing down? Admitting to some shrink that he hadn't really seen what he saw?" Thomas shook his head. "He was afraid to lose his career. He caved."

I sat silently.

"Doesn't make him a bad person," Thomas said. "But he's a coward. He's either going to get you killed or else freeze at a bad moment and die—and you'll torture yourself over how it's all your fault. If we want to survive, we need to get him somewhere safe. Then cut him loose. Better for everyone."

I thought about it for a minute.