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And if that person was the one responsible for killing those other vampires, it would be a win-win for him. Pass off responsibility for his own murders and be rid of an annoying half-breed thorn in his side all at the same time.

I was a fool for not seeing it sooner.

“It’s Juan Carlos. ”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Never in all my years of knowing her had I ever heard Ingrid laugh like she did then.

Dismissive chuckles, sure. Loaded trills, showing a little too much enjoyment at my suffering? Absolutely. But this was something new. Her face lit up, mouth fell open, and she all-out belly laughed like what I’d said was either the funniest or most ridiculously stupid thing she’d ever heard.

I was placing my meager funds on the latter.

Desmond was enchanted by her mirth. I saw him smile, and the corners of his lips twitched with the urge to laugh along with her. I was less appreciative of the laughter and was sitting on the edge of the couch, trying to kill Ingrid with my stare.

When she stopped laughing, she wiped away a tear from the corner of each eye and took a swallow of air.

“Oh, Secret. I’m sorry. ” She was smiling, and the amusement hadn’t left her face. She looked positively youthful with her usual scowl dissipated. “I don’t mean it to seem like I’m insulting your assessment. Quite the contrary. Juan Carlos would seem like the perfect candidate, I don’t disagree. Especially given his dislike of you. ”

“Thanks. ”

Ingrid shrugged one shoulder, dismissing my grumblings. “The problem is, he doesn’t fit the profile you already established. ” She held one palm out flat, offering me something invisible. “We know the vampire responsible must have a daytime servant, yes?”

“Yes. ”

She held out her other empty palm. “Juan Carlos does not. ”

Well, that put a damper on my accusation. “Are you sure? Could he have one and no one knows?” Ingrid was shaking her head through every word. “Not even a Renfield?”

“No. ” The period at the end of the sentence was so matter-of-fact it wouldn’t allow for argument. That was that. She could sense my disappointment. “I’m no friend of Juan Carlos, believe me. I wish he were guilty on many levels. But he chides Sig and Daria for having daytime servants. He calls us their daylight wives. ” Her lip curled.

“Man, I’d love to hear what he calls me behind my back. ”

“Half-breed wh—”

Desmond choked on a laugh, and I raised my hand to stop Ingrid before she could finish. “Rhetorical. ”

In the silence that fell, a tinny, muffled version of “Free Fallin’” did its best to make things that much more awkward. Tom Petty sang while I scrambled for my purse and tried to find my cell phone.

I quieted the ringer with a sheepish smile and looked at Desmond, who seemed a little surprised by the ring tone choice. Ingrid appeared to have never heard the song before. I didn’t recognize the number on the caller ID screen.

“Sorry,” I said, and stepped out of the living room to answer the call. “Hello?”

“McQueen?” It was a gruff, unfamiliar male voice, strained with worry. In the background I heard someone shout, followed by the sound of something smashing. “It’s Jameson. ”

The voice matched up in my head with a visual of the burly vampire hunter from Bramley. Judging by the ruckus in the background, it would seem like he had found himself in a bit of a bind.

“What’s wrong?”

“We stumbled on a nest. We thought it was only one vamp, but we got here and it was a fucking ambush. ” Another holler and more breaking glass. “Noriko vanished, and someone’s got Nolan. ” There was a long pause and I strained to make out any sounds, thinking the line had gone dead.

All I needed to hear was that Nolan was in trouble to decide I would go. I don’t know what it was about the kid, but I wanted to keep him safe from the big bads going bump in the night. He deserved better than my life.

But he’d have to live if that was going to be possible.

“Jameson?”

“We need help. ” There was a crackle of static on the line.


Tags: Sierra Dean Secret McQueen Paranormal