“I can count.”

“Can you?”

Balz threw out a hand to his bedside table. Grabbing his Galaxy S21, he checked the time, ready to throw the hour back in his cousin’s face—

12:07 a.m.

Sitting up, he pushed his hair out of his face, even though he’d recently gotten it cut and there was nothing in his eyes. Sure enough, next to where his phone had been, there was that travel mug and the croissant that was still wrapped in a dish towel.

Jesus. He’d slept like he’d been punched in the head.

And no dreams of his female.

The lights overhead came on as Syphon flipped the switch, and then the fighter said the words every Brother and bastard dreaded like the second coming of the Omega.

“I’ve called Doc Jane.”

“What?” Balz tried not to scream. “Why? I’m perfectly fine—”

“You were electrocuted.”

Balz frowned because he couldn’t have heard that right. When his cuz merely stared back at him expectantly, like the bastard had just proved for a fact that pigs could fly, it was apparent that true logic was going to have to be spelled out.

Where were a whiteboard and a marker when you needed them?

“Back in December.” Balz indicated himself. “And in case you haven’t noticed, I don’t glow in the dark.”

“And you think that means you’re fine.”

“I think it disqualifies me as a night-light. And being a patient of Doc Jane’s four months ago—”

“Did someone say my name?” The good doctor, and V’s shellan, poked her head around the doorjamb. “How we doing?”

Balz groaned and flopped back against his pillows. “Can someone explain to me why doctors use the royal ‘we’ when they’re talking at people they think are sick? Who is this ‘we’?”

The blond female walked by Syphon and gave the bastard a pat on the shoulder—which was the universal sign for We’re good, thanks.

“I agree,” Balz muttered. “You can go, Cousin.”

“Both of you are so cute.” Syphon marched over and parked it in the chair by the bureau. “Really. It’s cute.”

Having clearly lost that fight, Balz focused on Doc Jane and shook his mental hat full of excuses, not really caring what came out. And as she patiently stared back at him, it was hard to be frustrated at her. With her short blond hair and level green stare, she looked like the kind of person who could treat anything from a hangnail to a ruptured aorta with competence, compassion, and calmness.

And she really needed to take all that expertise somewhere else, to someone who actually required it.

“So I understand you’re fatigued,” she said as she sat down the edge of his bed.

“Of this visit? Yes, and we haven’t gotten started yet, have we.” He cursed. “Sorry, I don’t mean any offense.”

“None taken.” She leaned in. “You wouldn’t believe what patients have said to me over the years.”

“Just don’t tell your hellren. I like my arms and legs right where they are.”

“Your secret is safe with me.” She smiled at him. “Now tell me what’s going on.”

“Nothing.” He glared at Syphon. “I swear—no, wait. I am suffering from cousin-itis. Can you remove that noisy, malignant growth for me? I’ve been finding it really irritating lately—”

“He missed a meeting of the Brotherhood.” Syphon stared across at the doc. “He never does that.”

“I slept in!”

Syphon rolled his eyes. “Until midnight? And actually, you missed two meetings, haven’t you—”

“Okay, okay.” Doc Jane made cool-it-boys motions with her hands. “How about I do a quick exam? If the vitals are good and there’s no fever or anything, we’ll call this case closed.”

“Great.” Balz glared at his cousin as he took off his t-shirt. “And listen, Doc, after you’re done certifying all my perfectly-fine, I’ll drop and do three hundred for this asshole, just so he’s sure I’m tight.”

Syphon nodded. “I’ll count ’em so you don’t have to.”

Doc Jane grabbed her stethoscope from her dreaded black bag. “This won’t take long—”

“Unless you find something,” Syphon cut in.

Balz wadded up his shirt and pegged the bastard in the head with it. “You’re like GE, you bring good things to life. When you shut up.”

“He was electrocuted, you know.” Syphon peeled the [adult swim] logo off his face. “I mean, he was dead—”

“She treated me! And that was months ago—”

“Boys. Please.”

As Syphon tossed the t-shirt away and Balz tried to look like he wasn’t sulking, Doc Jane plugged the stethoscope into her ears and went in with the disk.

“Take a deep breath for me,” she said. “Good. And another?”

She moved the receiver around his pecs. Then she put it in the center. “Just breathe normally now.”

After a moment, Doc Jane straightened from him. “Sounds good—I’m just going to listen around back, too.”

Balz leaned forward so she could do whatever she needed to—and resisted the urge to stick his tongue out at Syphon. Because that was totally immature.

So he flipped the fucker off with both middle fingers—

Doc Jane did a double take and yanked the plugs out of her ears. “How did this happen?”

As Syphon sat forward sharply, like he was ready to be called in to help with a code, Balz glanced over. “How’d what happen?”

“These scratches. They’re all over your back, like someone gripped you while you were—oh.”

As the doc flushed, a sense of foreboding had Balz tossing the covers aside and stalking into his bathroom. There was no reason to flip more lights on. That overhead fixture out in the bedroom cast plenty of—

What. The. Fuck.

As he flashed his spine at the mirror over the sinks, he got a load of the long stripes that had been torn into his skin on both sides of his shoulders, his rib cage . . . and right above his ass.

Well, at least he knew why Doc Jane, the unflappable physician, had given him an “oh.” There was only one reason why marks like these would be on a male—and it had nothing to do with him having a medical problem.

Quite the opposite.

When he came out of the bathroom, Doc Jane was closing up her black bag and getting to her feet. “I think we’re okay here, aren’t we.”

Balz crossed his arms over his chest. “Like I said, I’m fine. I was just tired.”

He looked pointedly at Syphon.

“But call me if you need me, okay?” Doc Jane opened the door into the hall. “Promise?”

“I promise.” Balz smiled at her. “And thank you. I’m sorry that Mr. Panic Button over here jumped the gun.”

“No worries.” Doc Jane waved at them both. “I’m always here, and I’d rather you hit me up for nothing than not call me at all.”

As the door closed, Balz stared across at his cousin. “Now do you understand why I might need a little lie-in?”