I interrupted her in an impatient voice. "That it was a lot of fun, you'll always treasure it, but that it was a onetime thing and that you hope he grows up to find a nice girl or be president or something."

She stared at me and then knitted her blond brows into a frown. "You don't have to be such a bast-" Then her eyes widened. "Oh. Oh! I'm sorry-oh, my God." She leaned toward me, blushing, and said in a between-us-girls whisper, "I would never have guessed that he was with a man. How do the two of you manage on that tiny bed?"

I blinked and said, "Now wait a minute."

But she ignored me and walked out, murmuring, "He is such a naughty boy."

I glared at her back. Then I glared at Mouse.

Mouse's tongue lolled out in a doggy grin, his dark tail waving gently.

"Oh, shut up," I told him, and closed the door. I heard the whisper of water running through the pipes in my shower. I put out food for Mister and Mouse, and the dog partook immediately. "He could have fed the damned dog, at least," I muttered, and opened the fridge.

I rummaged through it, but couldn't find what I was after anywhere, and it was the last straw. My frustration grew into a fire somewhere inside my eyeballs, and I straightened from the icebox with mayhem in mind.

"Hey," came Thomas's voice from behind me. "We're out of beer."

I turned around and glared at my half brother.

Thomas was a shade over six feet tall, and I guess now that I'd had time to get used to the idea, he looked something like me: stark cheekbones, a long face, a strong jaw. But whatever sculptor had done the finishing work on Thomas had foisted my features off on his apprentice or something. I'm not ugly or anything, but Thomas looked like someone's painting of the forgotten Greek god of body cologne. He had long hair so dark that light itself could not escape it, and even fresh from the shower it was starting to curl.