Nancy stiffens, her knuckles white on her wine glass. "No," she says quietly. "You can't." Ignoring the Night Council's requests was bad news bears, especially now that Lance had gone so far out on a limb for her. She couldn't tell him not to, and by all means, the old devil deserved to rot in hell for all he'd done.

But there were so many others at risk, here.

"It's not me I'd be worried about." Her tone is even, if not quiet. She busies herself at the sink, not looking at Lance. She has her brothers to think about.