The words put me on my guard, but the tone was quiet and seemed honest. “Because as much as you drive me crazy, I know you. And I know Riley. And it’s not fair.”
He watched me for a minute. “That’s some of it, but not all of it.”
I didn’t like that he’d seen something I wasn’t entirely ready to talk about. But I’d already crossed that threshold with him once. “Because of the Eiffel Tower.”
He frowned. “The attack?”
I nodded. “It was bad, Connor. The vampires walked through a park where people were just hanging out, being happy. And they killed them because they were pissed at someone else. Vampires are fighting like damned children, and they’re hurting other people to do it.”
“You think vampires are behind this?”
“Not necessarily. But I think it’s wrapped up in the peace talks, and that’s a big, messy bundle of supernaturals. I know Riley wouldn’t do it. And I don’t like people using my father or his House for murder.”
There was something deeply considering in his eyes, and I nearly looked away from the intimacy of his evaluation. “You’ve gotten kind of impressive, brat.”
I narrowed my gaze. “I’m not sure that’s a compliment.”
“It is.” He gestured toward the door. “Fascinating as it is to see this other side of you, I need to get back to work. But you’ll let me know if you find anything?”
“Sure,” I said, and I left him to prepare for his journey.
• • •
Lulu had grown up in a house in Wicker Park not far from Little Red. When she got a place for herself, she changed neighborhoods, moving to the Near North Side and a loft apartment. Since I’d failed on the souvenir front, I stopped for coffee on the way.
I climbed out of the Auto to look up at the unassuming brick building, the long rows of windows. It looked like a warehouse, which was the architectural calling card for this particular neighborhood.
The other tenants had names listed beside the buzzers for their apartments. The one I assumed was hers, since her name wasn’t listed, bore a splotch of red paint. I mashed the button with an elbow.
“What? I’m working.” Her voice was irritable.
“It’s me,” I said, and the locks disengaged with asnick. I rearranged the coffee cups and yanked open the door before it locked again, then slipped inside and climbed the wide and beaten stairs in the unassuming lobby.
She was on the fourth floor, and one of only two doors in thelong hallway. I walked to hers, and since my hands were full, knocked with an elbow.
“It’s open!” she yelled out.
I managed it awkwardly, found myself looking down at a slender black cat. It stared up with green eyes, a swishing tail, and a very suspicious expression.
“A cat is giving me dirty looks,” I said.
“That’s Eleanor of Aquitaine.”
“Hi, Eleanor.” I gave her a smile.
In response, she hissed at me.
“She doesn’t like nicknames,” Lulu called out. “It’s Eleanor of Aquitaine or nothing.”
I lifted an eyebrow at the cat. She stared back, unblinking and unmoved.
It occurred to me that I didn’t know any vampires who had cats. Maybe cats didn’t like vampires. But I was an adult, so I’d try again.
“Hello, Eleanor of Aquitaine.”
Her tail stopped flicking, but her expression didn’t change. Then she turned and walked away, tail still swishing as she moved.
“Rude,” I murmured, and kicked the door closed.