Cyrus laughed, and I flinched at the sound. It was too much like the monster who’d sired me. “I was joking. I know you’ve got your eye on the werewolf,” he stated.

Now it was my turn to laugh. “Of course he does. He’s Max, and she’s female.”

A patient smile formed on Cyrus’s mouth, and Max looked away, rubbing his neck in a classic gesture of social discomfort.

“Oh.” I cleared my throat. “Well, I’m impressed, Max. I was beginning to think you were always going to be the love ’em and leave ’em type.”

He let out an exasperated breath. “Hey, I am the love ’em and leave ’em type. And I don’t love her. It was just…boredom fucking.”

I exchanged an uncomfortable glance with Cyrus, the ocular communication equivalent of “thanks but no thanks for the details.”

“I’m going to take a shower,” Cyrus announced, striding purposefully toward the bathroom. “I’ll leave you to your awkward moment.”

I followed Max into the kitchen, where he rooted in the fridge for blood. When he reached for the teakettle, I offered, “I can do that.”

He shook his head. “Nah. I need something to keep myself busy, or I’ll be in there waking Nathan up by worrying over him. How’d he do?”

“Fine.” I sat at the table, apologizing for the loud scrape the chair made against the floor.

“Don’t worry about waking her up, she sleeps like the dead. At least, like the dead who aren’t currently possessed.” Max winked at me as he set the kettle on the burner. “Did you get any sleep?”

“None at all. So, what’s going on with you and Bella?” At his pointed look, I raised my hands helplessly. “I’m sorry, I’m a doctor. We’re supposed to ask questions.”

“About people’s personal life?” He raised an eyebrow.

Squirming under his knowing gaze, I shrugged. “Sometimes.”

“You’re not that kind of doctor.”

“And what kind of doctor is that?” For a second I thought he’d respond with a smart-assed answer about venereal disease.

Instead, he took the other chair and rested his big forearms on the cracked Formica tabletop. “A head doctor. A shrink. Just admit you have a case of nosy frienditis.”

“Fine. I have a case of nosy frienditis. Now answer the question.” It wasn’t a command, but gentle urging.

Something was warring inside Max. I could see it in his boyish, blue eyes. He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “I have no idea. One minute we hated each other, the next I’m finding her split open like an overcooked hot dog. I bring her back here and bam, we’re all involved.”

“That must have hurt for her,” I observed sagely.