With that, he began beating the living hell out of Madigan. An hour ago, I would’ve sworn I’d love watching such a thing, but as the blows came thick and heavy, and Madigan still didn’t stop wailing in pained confusion, I began to feel sick. Denise must’ve, too. She walked away, and not in a manner that suggested embarrassment over Bones delivering the thrashing naked. Either Madigan was the most persuasive actor in the world, or he wasn’t faking it. The longer I watched, the more I became convinced that this wasn’t the same icy government operative who’d masterminded a decade-long plan to integrate three separate species into one unstoppable weapon. This was a little boy trapped in an old man’s body, and he had no idea why the bad man hurting him wouldn’t stop.

“Enough,” I said at last, grabbing Bones’s arm when he was about to let fly another jaw-breaking haymaker.

I half expected him to shake me off and keep at it. Instead, he lowered his fist and dropped Madigan, who crumpled into a pile near his feet.

“Hurts, hurts, hurts,” he sobbed brokenly.

“It’s bloody well supposed to,” Bones snapped, giving him a final kick that curled him into the fetal position. “You’re fortunate that I’m tired. We’ll continue this in the morning, once I’m well refreshed.”

Now I didn’t know if he was faking it, but I said nothing. Bones had been around hundreds of ghoul rebirths. If I was being tricked by a brilliant actor, I didn’t want to let on more than I already had that I’d bought the performance.

“Throw him in the grain dispenser,” Bones said to Spade, who’d watched everything with a stony expression. “Should hold him ’til Mencheres arrives.”

Then Bones walked away. I went after him, as did Dave. Behind us, Madigan made small, whimpering noises.

“Please no hurt,” he begged Spade.

My stomach clenched. I’d heard children sound less terrified and vulnerable.

Bones went into the silo we’d made love in. His clothes were still in pieces on the ground, but he seemed oblivious to them as he began to pace in short strides. If his nudity discomfited Dave, the other man gave no sign when he followed us in and shut the door.

“Something’s not right,” Dave said in a flat tone.

Bones glanced up, frustration stamped all over his features.

“No, it isn’t.”

I blew out a sigh. So I wasn’t just being a sucker. Then, amidst the direness of realizing what that meant, I found myself hoping that Mencheres had had the foresight to bring an extra set of clothes. Preferably two. Bones would attract too much attention naked, and I was so done wearing this blood-spattered lab coat.