Saturday morning was dedicated to moving and installing the new bunk beds in the large bedroom. It took several attempts to explain to the children why the new arrangement was necessary. Carlo and Kyle were resistant to the idea of giving up their play space to two babies, but when Kyrie brought Rosso and Zaffiro down from upstairs to show them their new bunks, the older boys reluctantly acknowledged that their roommates weren't really babies anymore and maybe weren't quite so bad. Scipio said nothing, but sulked openly.

Despite his willingness to help Nero transport and assemble the bed, Julio seemed the most uncomfortable with the idea of having the twins move into his room. "Nero, what's going on, really?" he asked while they were alone in the room, screwing the bed rails onto the frame. "Those are not the same kids Nico brought home. I saw them. They were in diapers. I know you told us they had some sort of gland disorder that made them grow really fast, but even if that's true, there's no way they could have gotten as big as Flavia in just a few weeks."

"They are the same kids, but it's…" Nero sighed. "Look, I'm just gonna have to ask you to trust me. I know it seems weird, but there's a reason for everything. I just can't explain it all right now."

Julio's brow furrowed. "You said those kids were your relatives, right?"

"Yeah, they are."

"Is this something to do with your dad? And… you know." He glanced toward the door to make certain they were alone. "Devil hunting?"

"Yes. It is. And that's all I can tell you for right now. Please, just keep pretending everything's normal for a little while longer, okay? Rosso and Zaffiro don't know there's anything unusual about them. Carlo and Kyle know something's up, but they tend to follow your lead. I don't think they'll make an issue of it if you don't. And hopefully if you all play it cool, Scipio and Flavia will, too."

Julio shook his head. "I wouldn't bet on that. Scipio has been mad about them being here ever since he got in trouble because of Rosso."

"Well, pretty soon Rosso is going to be bigger than Scipio, so he'll have to put up or shut up. Hand me that screwdriver, will you?"

Julio passed the tool to Nero. "So is it some kind of demon power making them get big super fast, or something?"

"Something like that, yeah." Nero shook his head. "Look, when all this is over, I'll explain everything the best I can. Just… give me some time, okay? Everything's kind of up in the air right now."

"Yeah, okay." Julio flashed a grin. "I guess you can buy me off with some more gelato."

The rest of the day was filled with predictable squabbling and shuffling of the pecking order, but at last things were settled: Julio, Carlo and Kyle claimed the top bunks, apparently affording them some measure of perceived status, while Scipio selected the lower berth in the farthest corner of the room. Rosso and Zaffiro seemed content to take the two lower bunks by the door, which put their beds close together.

Flavia was endlessly curious about the twins, constantly asking them questions or inviting them to play with her, and spent most of the afternoon underfoot in the boys' bedroom. This led to even more griping and jostling for space, until Nero had to forcibly separate the kids into small groups assigned to the kitchen, living room and bedrooms.

By nightfall, Nero was tired and short-tempered from managing the high-strung children all day, but as they herded everyone through their nightly routines, Kyrie soothed him with a hand on his shoulder. "Just think of how nice and quiet our bedroom will be," she whispered. "We're leaving all the chaos downstairs."

"I'd be more likely to enjoy our newfound privacy if I weren't so worried about how this first night is going to go," he murmured back. "Especially after that roof stunt Rosso and Zaffiro pulled. We may come down tomorrow and find all our kids pillow-fighting in the middle of the street, or something."

Kyrie laughed. "Julio will keep them in line. Besides, they're all so tired from today, I doubt they'll be able to keep their eyes open for more than a few minutes. I know I'll be out like a light as soon as I hit the pillow."

"What, no celebrating having our bedroom back to ourselves?"

She stretched up on her toes to kiss him. "The spirit is willing, but the body is in dire need of a raincheck. Let's celebrate tomorrow, when we're both awake enough to enjoy it."

Nero had to admit, the prospect of a night's unbroken sleep sounded nearly as attractive as a night alone with Kyrie. "I must be getting old," he muttered. "I actually agree with you."

Despite his fatigue, worry kept Nero awake long after Kyrie had fallen asleep. The room seemed too quiet without the soft noises from the twins' crib, and the memory of the boys' recent mischief filled his mind with a thousand potential disasters. What if they sneaked out of bed and got into the kitchen? What if they turned on the stove, or found the knife block, or figured out how to unlock the front door?

After an hour's fretting, he rose and slipped down the stairs to make sure everyone was still where they should be. Flavia's night light showed her asleep in the small bedroom, and the arc of light it spilled into the hallway provided enough ambient illumination for Nero to make out the beds in the larger room. The top three were occupied, but the nearest bottom bunk—Rosso's—lay empty. Nero reached for the light switch, ready to raise the alarm, when his night-adjusted eyes flicked to Zaffiro's bed.

Oh.

The twins were curled close together as they slept—just as they'd slept every night since they had come here, sharing warmth and security, and probably whatever inner sense allowed them to feel the other's presence. Rosso's bare feet peeked out from the edge of the blanket, and Nero gently tucked the covers around his tiny toes.

When he returned to his own bed, Kyrie rolled toward him, awakened by the jostling of the mattress. "Everything okay?" she yawned.

"Yep." He kissed her and settled into his pillow. "Everything is just fine."

Sunday dawned clear and warm, and Kyrie shooed everyone out of the house to burn off some energy. "Take them on a long walk, or to the park, or anything," she told Nero. "I have work to do, and maybe some exercise will put an end to all this posturing."

"Rosso and Zaffiro too?"

"We can't keep them indoors forever," she sighed. "Besides, do you really want them finding their own entertainment around here?"

Nero didn't need to answer that question. He marched the children to the park, bracketed by the twins, whose hands remained locked in his own—the condition under which he'd told them they were allowed out of the house. When they reached the green expanse, the older boys pelted toward the football pitch, while Flavia and Kyle ran to the area with the lushest grass, where they could cartwheel and somersault with the most comfortable landing.

Nero knelt to Rosso and Zaffiro's eye level. "Okay, here are the rules for the park: You can play on the grass or on the playground—" He pointed toward the sandy patch where a shabby swingset, slide and jungle gym stood. "—but you may not leave those areas. If there are other kids playing, you have to take turns on the equipment. If you don't know if something is allowed, you come ask me first. And when I whistle, you come running. Understand?" His eyes fixed on Zaffiro, whose mind he could already see analyzing these new rules for some weakness. This kid would make a hell of a lawyer, he thought.

The boys agreed to the rules and wandered toward the playground, taking in everything around them with wide eyes. Nero found a bench where he could keep watch on them, but soon the twins were chasing each other over and through the jungle gym with impressive agility, and he began to relax. Maybe they could just act like normal kids for a while.

After some minutes, a woman newly arrived at the park sent her own child off to the swings and settled at the other end of Nero's bench. Her gaze flicked from the twins to Nero a few times. "Are those your little boys?" she asked.

"Guilty as charged." It was really impossible to deny the family resemblance, with their white hair gleaming in the sunlight, and Nero didn't feel obligated to provide the whole distant-relative cover story to a complete stranger.

"They're adorable. You must be very proud of them."

Nero wasn't sure what this woman thought he should be particularly proud of—weren't all kids equally adorable at that age?—but he shrugged. "Yeah, I think I'll keep 'em. Besides, I lost the receipt, so it's not like I can return 'em."

She gave him a strange look, clearly failing to appreciate his humor. Well, it was a dumb conversation anyway. Maybe this would keep her from carrying on talking to him. Nero turned away to watch Julio practice his dribbling on the football field.

The woman didn't take the hint. "You should be careful, though," she said a moment later, leaning in as though imparting a secret. "Some of those other children out there are… you know." She arched her eyebrows. Nero didn't have a clue what she was talking about, and it must have showed on his face, because she leaned even closer. "From the orphanage. You don't want your little ones falling in with those troublemakers."

Nero stared back. "Troublemakers?"

The woman nodded. "One of those orphans—the red-haired boy over there—actually attacked my son at his school! They're dreadfully ill-behaved, the lot of them. No self-control at all. I don't blame them, of course; it's not as though anyone has ever shown them proper discipline. A sad waste, really."

Oh, so that's who this snooty bitch was. No wonder Kyrie had been upset by her. "Discipline," Nero repeated. "Right. That's your kid, isn't it?" He pointed to a boy engaged in a shoving match with another child near the slide. When she nodded, he said, "Can you call him over here? I'd like to meet him."

The woman preened a little at his interest. "Of course, I'd be glad to. Marco!" The boy glanced over at the sound of his mother's voice, then resumed pushing the other kid around. The woman raised her voice. "Marco! Come here, now!" This time Marco completely ignored her. Her face gradually turned pink, but she laughed it off. "Well, he'll be over in a minute. You know how distracted children can be when they're playing."

"Yeah, I do." Nero stood. "You wanna see real discipline, lady?" He took a few steps into the grass, put his fingers to his mouth, and gave a shrill whistle. Instantly all seven of his children whirled and launched toward him at a run—even the twins, he noted with relief. Rosso and Zaffiro, unsure of the protocol, watched the others skid into a neat line in front of Nero before taking their places at the end.

"Eight seconds," Nero announced, grinning. "I think that's a new record. Super special Sunday snack time is on!" The kids all cheered and raised their hands, and Nero jogged down the line, high-fiving them. The twins watched this ritual with curiosity and tentatively lifted their own hands, and Nero gave them an encouraging grin as he slapped their palms. "Good job, guys. You did really well. You can go back and play now."

The children dispersed, clearly pleased with their own performance and the praise they'd received, and Nero dropped onto the bench again. "Before you go throwing shit at my orphans, lady, maybe you should try reining in your little pet bully. Because I know how that fight started, and dear, sweet Marco deserved every punch in the nose he got."

The woman jumped up with a huff and stalked toward the playground. "Marco! We're leaving!" she snapped. Nero enjoyed his slightly-below-the-belt victory as Marco launched into a full-blown tantrum and his mother struggled to intimidate, then coax him to accompany her. She failed, of course, and Marco soon took up a defensive position on top of the jungle gym, too high for her to reach without climbing up after him. After a few minutes of shouting and pleading, Mama Marco slumped onto a bench and put her head in her hands. Nero almost felt sorry for her. Almost.

He quickly tired of watching Marco play king of the mountain, and noticed that Rosso and Zaffiro had followed Flavia and Kyle to Cartwheel Central and were now performing very respectable somersaults in the grass. Rosso even managed something approximating a handstand before collapsing into a forward roll and a fit of giggles. Nero tipped his head back, enjoying the moment of peace and the sun warming his face. He'd slept pretty well last night, but it had been a long week. Would it be too indulgent to take a short nap here? He doubted anyone would notice if he just closed his eyes for a minute or two…

A high-pitched shriek snapped him back awake, and Nero bolted to his feet before he had even located the source of the sound. The scream had come from Flavia, whose copper-colored hair was clenched in the fist of none other than Marco. An ugly sneer contorted the boy's face, and Nero could just hear the sing-song ginger, ginger as he pulled on her braid.

Nero started running, distantly registering that Scipio and Mama Marco were already incoming along their own trajectories. Before any of them could reach the knot of children, the wrath of hell descended on the bully.

Even at this distance, Nero's skin prickled at the shift in power as Rosso and Zaffiro charged in unison, launching themselves into the air and slamming into Marco's chest with enough force to take him to the ground. Unfortunately for Flavia, her hair was still tangled in Marco's grip; she went down with him, crying out at the sudden sharp pressure on her scalp. Rosso laid into Marco's face with inexpert fists, while Zaffiro pinned Marco's wrist with one hand and pried his fingers loose from Flavia's hair with the other. Marco started screaming and didn't stop.

The bright sunlight nearly concealed the flare of red and blue sparks.

"Stop, stop, stop!" Nero landed in the grass beside them, skidding the last few paces on his knees. "Stop, now. Everyone let go." The twins obeyed immediately, the wave of enraged devil power subsiding now that Nero was there to take over. Flavia scrabbled away and clung to her brother, sobbing. Marco continued making noises like a cat with its tail caught in a door.

"Get away, you horrid brats!" Mama Marco shoved Nero away from her son. "Marco, honey—oh, just look what they've done to my baby!"

Nero looked. Marco's face was red and swollen, with darker weals that might have been lightning burns. His wrist bore the purpling imprint of tiny fingertips, and at least one of his fingers was bent at an awkward angle. Zaffiro had freed Flavia's braid by brute force, it seemed. Nero had experienced the twins' grip strength for himself; it was a wonder Marco hadn't gotten a broken wrist in the bargain.

A crowd of onlookers had gathered to watch the spectacle, and Nero grimaced. Just what they needed—more controversy surrounding the orphanage, and Rosso and Zaffiro drawing this kind of attention to themselves. If anyone in the Order's inner circle had survived, the presence of two white-haired, super-powered children would definitely be the flare that drew them out of hiding.

"They should be arrested!" Mama Marco was babbling as she cradled her bawling son to her chest. "Those children are a menace! You!" She jabbed a finger at Nero. "You should be in jail, you and your whole horde of ruffians!"

"I don't know, lady," said a man who had been reading a newspaper on a nearby bench. "Seems to me your boy brought that on himself. Oughta be ashamed, picking on a little girl like that."

"He's twice the size they are," laughed another bystander, "and he still got his ass handed to him!"

The knot of fear and fury in Nero's stomach gradually loosened as he realized public opinion was, for once, on his side. Mama Marco hustled her son to his feet, flinging promises of prosecution and lawsuit at Nero as they staggered away, but no one seemed to put much stock in her threats. "Are the kids all okay?" asked the man with the paper. "Your little girl went down pretty hard."

Nero beckoned to Flavia and checked her over. Apart from a skinned elbow, a tender scalp, and some grass stains, she seemed unharmed. Rosso and Zaffiro didn't even have bruised knuckles. "Well, this sure was exciting," Nero sighed. "I think it's time to head home, don't you?"

Nero sat on the lower bunk bed and glanced from one boy to the other. Rosso and Zaffiro stared back at him from the opposite bunk, their gazes frank and expectant. "So," Nero began, feeling the least qualified person in the universe to be giving this lecture, "fighting… isn't a good thing."

Zaffiro stiffened. "He hurt Flavia."

Rosso nodded. "We're supposed to do something when we see someone who needs help."

"Yes," Nero admitted, "helping people is a good thing. But hurting people isn't good. You broke that kid's fingers."

Zaffiro's chin notched higher. "He wouldn't let go."

Nero glanced toward the doorway for help. Kyrie was leaning against the doorjamb; she'd joined them after medicating Flavia's scrapes and convincing the little girl to rest for a while. She stepped into the room in answer to Nero's silent plea for assistance. "Boys," she said gently, kneeling on the floor beside the bed, "have you ever heard of the 'least harm' principle?"

The twins shook their matching heads. The motion loosened Zaffiro's hair, and he swept it back from his face in a familiar gesture.

"The idea is that in order to be good helpers, we have to choose actions that result in the least amount of harm. In this case, Flavia was being harmed, so stopping that boy from hurting her was a good thing. Understand?" The twins nodded. "But you did more than just prevent him from hurting her. When you knocked him down and hit him, you started hurting him even more than he had hurt her. And that means you were causing harm."

Rosso frowned as he considered this. "But he was bad. Bad things should be stopped, or they'll just hurt more people."

"People aren't all good or all bad. Sometimes people do bad things, but that doesn't mean we should hurt them." She laid a hand on each boy's arm. "I'm very happy that you wanted to help Flavia, but it's not right to hurt other people, even if you don't like them. If something like that happens again, the best thing you can do is to let one of us know. Then we'll stop it without causing any more harm. Understand?" The twins nodded reluctantly, and Kyrie stood. "All right. You've had a very busy morning, so I want you both to lie down and rest for a little while."

Nero helped her tuck the boys in for a nap, then followed her out of the room, shutting the door behind them. Kyrie sighed and leaned back against the wall. "I was afraid of something like this happening."

"I think they really were only trying to help. She screamed, and they just reacted." Nero stared at the closed door. "I'm not sure they even realize they're stronger than the others."

"I know. But we've got to start thinking about that, and teaching them to control themselves." She glanced at Nero. "Any ideas how to do that?"

"I'm not sure I'm the best one to ask. You've already got me feeling like a hypocrite. After all, I kill the 'bad things' for a living, no questions asked."

She frowned. "Nero, that's not the same thing at all. Demons and humans are completely different scenarios."

"Are they?" Nero stared at the door again, envisioning the boys sleeping on the other side, each one concealing a devil beneath his human exterior. "Vergil was doing a helluva lot of harm, and Dante was ready to put him down to protect the world."

"Until you stopped him." Kyrie fixed her warm gaze on him. "Do you regret sparing him? Do you truly believe there was nothing in your father worth saving?"

"I don't know." Nero ran a hand through his hair, unconsciously mimicking the gesture Zaffiro had made a few minutes before. "He's done some terrible things, but I guess he also has the capacity to do a lot of good, if he follows Dante's example."

"And yours," Kyrie reminded him. "You and Dante both save people. You both protect humanity. Sparing Vergil and influencing him to do the same may yet prove to be the path of least harm."

"Maybe." Nero sighed. "This is way too much philosophy for my brain to handle. Where are the rest of the kids?"

"Having super special Sunday snack time in the kitchen." Kyrie hooked her arm through Nero's elbow. "Come on, Socrates, you still have a few meals to make up for."