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“He attacked at me. I don’t know if he was aware of who I was. And then he tried to kill himself—stab himself with a letter opener.” I pointed to where it still lay on the floor. “I knocked him out with your paperweight.”

“I’m glad it was handy.” He narrowed his gaze. “What were you doing in here?”

“The light was on. Given Helen’s memo, I was going to leave you a note, say good night.” I glanced down at the vampire. “I didn’t quite get that far.”

Luc ran into the room, eyes darting from the vampire to Ethan to me. “What happened?”

“That was my question as well.” Ethan’s eyes were hard. “An unfamiliar vampire gained entry to the House and attacked my Sentinel. And I will damn well know how that happened.”

• • •

We waited for my grandfather, Catcher, and Jeff Christopher, my grandfather’s computer ace, to arrive with a pair of CPD uniforms and a medical squad. The medical squad restrained the vampire, lifted him onto a stretcher, and removed him from the House.

I felt some of the tension finally leave my shoulders when he was gone, the House clear of him and his delusions. My grandfather, in his grandfatherly slacks and short-sleeved button-down, patted my back. “You all right?”

“I’m fine,” I said, taking another drink from the bottle of Blood4You Ethan had pulled from the small fridge built into his bookshelves. It was the vampire version of comfort food. “Got my adrenaline going, but mostly because he took me by surprise.”

“His name is Winston Stiles,” Catcher said. He was taller than my grandfather—not to mention younger and bulkier—with a shaved head, pale green eyes, and a muscular body. He wore jeans and a well-worn T-shirt with MAGIC IS AS MAGIC DOES across the front. “Wallet was in his pocket.”

“Where will you take him?” Ethan asked.

“The ceramics factory,” my grandfather said. The former industrial site near the lake had been turned into a holding facility for supernaturals that normal jails weren’t strong enough to contain. “He’ll stay there, at least until he’s evaluated.”

“We’ll talk to him,” Catcher said.

Jeff, his tall, thin frame belying the white tiger that lived within, pushed his light brown hair behind his ears. He wore khakis, Converse, and a white button-down with the sleeves rolled up. It was his favorite look, and there was something comforting in the familiarity of it. “And check out his background,” Jeff said.

“If you don’t mind,” my grandfather said, gesturing to the chairs, “it’s late, and I’m going to sit. Would you join me?”

“Happy to,” I said, but I knew it wasn’t really “late” for my grandfather. He worked with supernaturals, so he worked long, late hours. He just wanted me to sit, to relax. Since I didn’t disagree that I needed a moment, I took the chair across from him, and the finger of amber liquid Ethan extended in a short crystal glass.

I glanced up at him, brows lifted.

“Good Irish whiskey,” he said. “It’ll take the edge off.”

I wasn’t sure I needed to take that much edge off, but I could see the worry in his eyes, so I indulged him, too, and downed it in a throat-searing gulp.

“Take me through it,” my grandfather said, and I walked them through the event from beginning to end.

“He kept talking about hearing a screaming voice, that he didn’t want to hear it anymore. He seemed confused, afraid, and angry.”

“At me?” Ethan asked. “At Cadogan?”

That was logical, since the vampire had been in Ethan’s office. “He didn’t mention you. I thought he was a supplicant, but not one that I saw tonight. And he didn’t say anything else specific.” I closed my eyes, tried to replay what he’d done, what he’d said.

“I’m not sure if he was capable of being that specific. You saw him—it looks like he’s been living on the streets for a while. Hard to say if that’s because of his demons, or if being on the streets created the demons. But it was all about the voice he was hearing—he wanted me to stop it, and when I told him I couldn’t, that I needed to get help, he grabbed the letter opener. And that had been closer than I’d wanted it to be.”

“How did he get in here?” Ethan’s voice was low, and his dangerous gaze settled on Luc. Luc’s expression wasn’t any friendlier.

“I don’t know. And I’m going to find out.” He looked at me. “I’m sorry, Merit.”

I shook my head. I wasn’t angry he’d gotten in; I’d handled myself. But if he’d found a vampire who hadn’t been able to protect himself? That would have been bad.

“I’m going to look at the security tapes right now,” Luc said.

“If he came in as a supplicant,” Ethan said, “he’d have had to sign the log. But I don’t recognize him. Did you?”

My grandfather shook his head, looked at Catcher and Jeff, who did the same. “He hasn’t been to the office.”


Tags: Chloe Neill Chicagoland Vampires Vampires