“This guy’s worried about something specific. He’s not worried about guys with stakes, or Girl Scouts selling cookies. He’s worried about a certain kind of magical attack, something that can
be stopped with fire, and that’s what he’s defending against. I’m guessing he’s got a stalker out there who’s tangled with him before.”
“And that stalker is probably going to follow him to Denver,” I said, heart sinking.
“If he hasn’t already,” Cormac said.
“I need to tell Rick about this.”
Ben said, “I think we can assume that Rick knows, if he’s been talking to this priest guy.”
Maybe I just wanted to talk to Rick, to find out more about Columban. To find out what Columban knew about his stalker.
“I wouldn’t worry too much,” Cormac said. “It’s between the priest and whoever he pissed off. Shouldn’t bother the rest of us.”
“Back to your arm,” Ben said. “I’m assuming that when the magic went zap, that’s when you fell.”
Cormac gave his head a frustrated shake. “Stuck my arm out and bam. Hardin saw the whole thing. She’s asking way too many questions—she’s after the vampire, and she was following me to get to him. She could have just asked.” His words were starting to slur, the medication taking effect. He sank back against the mound of pillows under his back.
“Would you really have agreed to work with her if she did?” I said.
“Hell, no.”
“And what does Amelia think?”
“The word ‘idiot’ might have come up. Idiot, clumsy, oaf…”
“Easy for her to say, she doesn’t have a body,” Ben said.
“That’s what I told her.”
I said, “I meant about the magic, the boundary, the stalker?”
“Amelia’s the one doing most of the work. We don’t know anything about the stalker—just that the vampire’s worried about something, something he can beat with fire.”
And he was wanted for arson in Hungary, which meant he’d faced down this thing before. When he came to Denver, had he brought his enemy with him? It would be wishful thinking to say no.
“Do we need to worry?”
“Always need to worry,” he said, voice fading to a mushy whisper.
Ben patted his cousin’s good shoulder. “Get some rest, we’ll talk more later.”
Cormac was already asleep, slouched against the pillow on the sofa.
“It’s weird, seeing him knocked out,” Ben said.
“Yeah. But at least he’s okay. He’ll be okay.” No matter how bad things got, it always seemed like they could be so much worse. Had to keep that in mind.
“What are the odds he’ll let it go after this?”
I huffed a laugh—quietly, to not disturb our invalid. “The best we can hope is that the arm will slow him down.”
“I can’t believe he broke his arm. All the crap we got into as kids, everything he’s done since, he’s never even smashed a toe. And then he fell?”
I frowned. “I need to talk to Rick.”
“He taking calls now?”