Biting my lip, I considered the answer to that question. I didn’t want to get Ziggy into too much trouble.

I decided the best course would be the parental guilt trip. “You shouldn’t let him smoke. It’s not good for him.”

Nathan slid out a cigarette and lit up, another surprising development. “I know. These things will kill you.”

“Har, har.” I rolled my eyes. “You can make a joke about it because your lung function isn’t going to be seriously compromised in twenty years.”

“I don’t believe all that crap they say on television. I smoked when I was much younger than Ziggy, and it never hurt me.”

“Yeah, because you didn’t live long enough to get emphysema or cancer.” For the first time, I realized how wide the gap in our age really was. People from his generation hadn’t worried about carcinogens and tar and nicotine addiction. He was a century old. He was probably more concerned with the danger of women wearing pants.

He studied me, an amused smile on his face. I felt naked, and not from the gaping holes in my shirt. I plucked at them self-consciously. “Would you mind?”

He headed into the bedroom. He playfully tossed me a new T-shirt as he returned.

There was a dull thud and he yelped in surprise. He bent down and picked something off the floor. It was the brick Dahlia had thrown. She’d tied a scrap of paper to it.

“Did you see this?” Nathan asked, dropping into the chair to nurse his stubbed toe.

I shook my head. “It must be the message she was talking about.”

As he scanned the paper, his eyes lit up with alarm. He held out the note and I took it.

“‘Lady bug, lady bug, fly away home. Your house is on fire…’” I read aloud. The rhyme wasn’t complete. “You don’t think…Nathan, my whole life is in that apartment!”

“Not to mention The Sanguinarius.” He wrenched open the closet door and pulled his leather trench coat on over his bare shoulders.

“You didn’t give me the only copy, did you?” I imagined my eyes bulging from my head as I spoke.

“No, but it’s the only copy I have. The last thing I need is some firefighter finding it in the rubble and showing it off. Besides, we don’t know if this is Dahlia being vindictive, or if she’s done this on Cyrus’s orders. He might have someone waiting for you, and if he does, I can take them out.”

“I can’t see Dahlia doing anything that was going to bring me closer to Cyrus, even if he ordered it. She definitely doesn’t want me around.” I noticed that Nathan had pocketed several stakes while I spoke and had yet to hand one to me. “Planning a road trip?”

He nodded. “Yup.”

“Where?”

“To your apartment.” He turned back to his arsenal and strapped a leg holster to his denim-covered calf, dropping another stake into it.

I waited expectantly as he pulled out Ziggy’s axe. “Um…were you going to give me something to protect myself, too?”