Because I suspected she was wildly intelligent and didn’t swallow the first line of crap fed to her, even if it came from a handsome devil like Lorcan Rowe. I could probably grow to like Taliyah Morgan, if she and her family weren’t constantly on the irritating side of the supernatural crime world.

  Lorcan shrugged. “I cannot say, I’m afraid, though I’m a very trustworthy man, ask anyone.”

  The effort it took to restrain a derisive snort was physically painful. Lorcan’s fingers flexed around mine, a silent reprimand. I dug my nails into his palm with renewed vigor. Jerk.

  “Are we free to go now?” I asked, pushing to my feet because I was tired of this cat and mouse game. “I still have clothes to deliver, and a shop to run.”

  Taliyah looked at me and paused for a few seconds before nodding. “We won’t have a concrete identity on the body until the medical examiner has checked dental records, of course.”

  “Of course,” I answered, although I already knew the identity of the body, but I couldn’t tell her that. “The question still stands,” I pressed. “Are we free to go?”

  “I can’t legally keep you without a warrant for your arrest, so yes, you’re free to go. Before you do, I want both your home and mobile numbers, should I need to contact you at some point.” She pushed a pad of paper and a pen at me and I dutifully wrote down my information before passing both to Lorcan.

  “And of course, it would be a bad idea to leave city limits.”

  “We did nothing wrong, therefore we don’t need to run,” Lorcan said.

  “Good,” Taliyah answered, spearing her gaze between the both of us. “Call the station if you think of anything else you’d like to add to your story.”

  It looked like the admission tasted sour, and she slumped a little in her chair as she said it.

  “And please don’t return to the Winsley Lane house. I imagine I don’t have to tell you, but it’s now considered a crime scene,” she added. “As soon as you leave, I’ll be headed over there to do my own investigation. When it’s ready to be inhabited again, I will reach out to let you know.”

  Damn it all—I’d been looking forward to staying in that house, too. Guess I’d have to book a room at the Haven Hollow Inn. The place was a little drab and altogether too cute for my taste, but I wasn’t about to skulk back to Poppy’s. I’d rather sleep in the graveyard.

  Lorcan scrawled a few numbers on Taliyah’s pad before handing it back to her. Then he flashed her another toothy grin that, again, failed to make her blush. It earned her points in my mental ledger. I hated it when women turned to mush around him. It was undignified and unnecessary, and irked me in a way I couldn’t explain.

  “Have a good evening, Officer Morgan. I’m looking forward to hearing your thoughts on this case,” Lorcan said, giving her another winning smile to which she frowned.

  I seized his elbow and jerked him away from the desk, nearly toppling his chair. “Come on, Casanova,” I whispered. “I need a ride to Louisa’s.”

  Lorcan chuckled, as though he found my sudden fit of pique amusing. We’d see how jovial he was after I hexed his hair to turn green.

  “After Louisa’s, you’re taking me to Riverport,” I continued.

  He raised one golden brow. “May I ask why?”

  “You’re taking me to dinner because I need a stiff drink.”

  Or four.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “I’ve never seen a woman down an entire bottle of wine in one sitting,” Lorcan admitted, looking from me to the boyishly handsome waiter who whisked away our second bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon.

  Over the past hour, the tension had eased out of my shoulders. Previously, I’d dropped off Louisa’s packages and though I’d struggled with the need to tell her what had really happened to Waylan, I had to wait for Officer Morgan to make that call. It wasn’t my place and, furthermore, I didn’t want to deal with all the questions that would undoubtedly come my way.

  All the while, I wondered if it would it be easier for Louisa to reconcile Waylan’s disappearance once she knew it was involuntary, or would the revelation that he’d been murdered only disrupt her life further?

  And why was I so invested, anyway? It wasn’t as though Louisa and I were friends by any stretch. Furthermore, I had enough family drama to last me the rest of my life. Poppy had just called to report Hellcat’s jailbreak from her house. On my orders, she’d disconnected her landline and hidden every cellphone in the house, so the little bugger had taken off. Clearly, he was determined to find a way to spill the secret about Darla sooner or later, even if he had to return to the spore-infested duplex and dirty his paws as he searched for a way to contact Mother. Narcing on me was his life’s purpose, and I doubted a little mold would dissuade him.

  I drained the dregs of the cabernet and slumped in my chair. The world was pleasantly hazy, the golden glow of the drop lights gauzy at the edges. My posture and mussed hair would make Mother shriek, but I couldn’t find it in me to care.

  The chicken carbonara was a warm, welcome weight in my stomach, and barring another disaster, I was bound for another of Lorcan’s properties—this one a ranch-style home in the middle of town, on Elk Street. The Elk property wouldn’t have been my first choice, but it beat crashing at Poppy’s and it was mostly furnished as Lorcan had lived here for a time before he’d decided to take residence in the duplex. For some reason, Lorcan didn’t seem to like the idea of me staying at a hotel. He said it wasn’t ‘personal enough’, whatever that meant.

  “My dear, I believe you should slow down in your consumption of the wine,” Lorcan said.

  “Oh, phooey,” I responded, tipping the glass in his direction. “Mother can put away at least three bottles before she’s even tipsy.”

  “It looks as though the same rule doesn’t apply to you, sweetling.”

  Lorcan sipped his wine, a glint of amusement in the depths of his emerald eyes. He couldn’t help the downward twist of his mouth when he drank. Without the addition of blood, the wine probably tasted vile, but he sipped it all the same, if only to maintain an illusion of normalcy. But the drink didn’t seem to diminish his amusement one iota.

  “All I know is today was enough to make me want to drink as much as I can.”

  He nodded. “It was certainly one for the books, as they say.” He took another thoughtful sip, and his mouth actually curled into a wicked little smirk. “Perhaps you should imbibe freely, as I imagine your resolve where I am concerned will drop substantially.”

  I cursed myself. I’d walked right into that one. I tilted my chin up so I could aim my haughtiest stare right down my nose. “In your dreams, Rowe.”

  He sighed. “Every night, sweetling. Every night.”

  “Night terrors, I hope.”

  He laughed. “As if any dream with you could be anything but divine.”

  “Ha.”

  He inclined his glass as if he were toasting me. “You’re lovely, even if you have a sharp tongue.”

  I wasn’t sure how to respond to that and scraped the last of the sauce from my plate to avoid looking at him. Meanwhile, I tried to convince myself that the heat rising to my cheeks was from the wine. And only the wine.

  “We’d better get going,” I said at last. “I need to scry Hellcat’s location so I can hopefully head him off before he finds a means of getting in touch with Mother.”

  Lorcan smiled tightly. “I’d like to help you track down the furry little beast.”

  I wasn’t sure how I felt about that—in general, time spent with Lorcan made me uneasy. And that uneasiness wasn’t just owing to the blood bond between us—a bond that was, little by little, making him lose his mind. So far though, I hadn’t really seen much proof of that fact, but I figured it was still coming.

  I sighed. “The more, the merrier.”

  He studied me for a moment after he handed the waiter his credit card. “Why don’t you drop the little nuisance at the nearest animal shelter?” he asked with a big smile. “It appears he causes you nothing but grief.”

  “I wish it could be so easy to get rid of him. But, no, it doesn’t work like that.”

  “How does it work?”

  “Familiars bond with their owners for life, and they’re basically impossible to get rid of. It’s just part and parcel of the pact between witch and familiar.”

  Lorcan leaned back in his chair, considering me. “If it’s a pact, why’d you enter into it in the first place?”

  “I didn’t intend to. But Mother managed to trick me into it with that odious little monster, and now I’m stuck with him until one of us dies.”

  “And have you tested that theory?”

  “You mean have I tried to kill him?” I asked, surprised. He cocked his head to the side and I shook mine. “I’m not that awful, Lorcan.”

  “I’m pleased to know as much.”

  “But,” I nearly interrupted him. “I have attempted to ditch him. Alas, shipping him off or conveniently ‘misplacing’ him never works. He always finds his way back.”

  Lorcan shrugged. “A shame, really. Any chance we could bribe him to keep his mouth shut?”

  “I’m not sure. He hates me as much as I hate him, and he prides himself on being Mother’s spy. I think he’d be pretty happy if you completed what you started and turned me into one of your kind. Then he could return to Mother and live out the rest of his life with her. That’s all he wants, anyway.”

  Lorcan downed the last of his wine, pulling a face when the glass was empty. “He’s a bloody awful creature, no doubt.” Then he paused as he looked at me. “And as you are well aware, I will never force you to become one of my kind. The decision is entirely yours and I shall always respect your choice.”

  I shook my head. The room was tilting slightly. Damn it. I didn’t want to limp out of the restaurant, leaning on Lorcan’s shoulder. As I stared at him, every toxic thought I’d had over the last twenty-four hours started to bubble up inside my head.

  “I don’t understand why you care, Rowe.”

  “What do you mean?” He appeared surprised.

  “I mean it would be easier for you just to turn me. And someday you may not be able to help it—I mean, the longer we don’t figure this whole reversal of the vampire kiss thing out, the closer we come to you losing control of yourself. So, why not give in?”

  He sobered, and I squirmed as he stared at me over the rim of his glass. “Because contrary to public opinion, I’m not a monster. Regardless of what you think of me, I know what it’s like to be forced into this change. I won’t allow any of my heirs to feel that sense of helplessness. If you ever come to my side, it will be by your choice and your choice alone.”

  Again, I was rendered speechless by his earnestness. I dropped my gaze to my plate and said nothing while Lorcan signed his name on the bill with a great flourish. It seemed everything he did was over the top—even his penmanship.

  I still wasn’t sure what to say when we stepped out into the chill night air minutes later. I felt a little woozy from the wine, which really didn’t make much sense because I wasn’t a lightweight and I hadn’t had that much to drink. Lorcan steadied me when I swayed on the walk back to the car. He’d parked in the back corner of the lot, far from the door. The black Escalade was entirely lost in a pool of shadow.

  “I just wish we had some notion of who could have murdered Waylan,” I said as I faced him and shook my head. The thought had just dropped into my overloaded brain and I voiced it.

  “Yes, the whole situation is quite a shame.”

  “It’s so frustrating that Darla was able to pick up bits and pieces about the specifics, but nothing truly important, nothing that could point us in the right direction.”

  Lorcan nodded as I inhaled deeply and then sighed. And then something occurred to me. Something that seemed to hit me out of nowhere, but something that seemed… possible all the same.

  The mold. The bubbles of death magic that had overtaken the duplex. The talking bubbles…

  Murder. Hidden. Buried.

  “Lorcan!” I said as I turned to face him. He looked at me immediately. “Has the mold been removed from the duplex yet? Has the place been leveled yet?”

  He shook his head. “The crew is set to start Monday. Why?”

  A huge sense of relief passed through me. “We have to go there—to the duplex! And we have to go right now!”

  “Why?” he asked, frowning.

  “Because… I need… I need to speak with the mold.”

  His laugh was strained and completely confused. “My dear, clearly you have had too much to drink.”

  “And therein lies the problem,” a foreign voice called out from behind us. “Because you, Lorcan Rowe, have not.”

  The rich, deep baritone issued from the darkness, almost seeming like it came from the night itself. Lorcan and I froze in place.

  The man was British and spoke with a Cockney accent. His tone was so crisp, it could almost cut you. A moment later, the body that matched the voice stepped from the inky pool of darkness that shrouded the corner of the lot, giving me a good look at the man we were dealing with.

  He was clearly a vampire. I could feel the truth in the way his undead energy buzzed around him. He was shorter than Lorcan, broader through the shoulders, built with the solid muscle of a man who had done hard labor most of his life. Even the loose brown sports jacket and tailored dress slacks couldn’t hide his bulk. His hands were mitt-like, and calloused, and I thought he’d probably had scars on his knuckles before the change had smoothed out his imperfections. His brow was heavy, shadowing his eyes so the blue seemed darker, his face more sinister than the average man’s. He looked like the sort of muscle that backed a powerful man.

  Lorcan sidestepped in a movement almost too quick to track, shoving his lean frame between me and the stranger. His body was tense, vibrating with nervous agitation, though it didn’t show in his tone when he spoke.

  “Joseph,” Lorcan said. “What brings you to the Hollow? It’s quite a drive from Portland.”

  Joseph’s lips peeled back away from his teeth, revealing a set of glistening fangs. The tapered incisors looked unnecessarily huge. Being bitten by those bad boys had to feel like being impaled on twin spikes. Lorcan’s sharp smiles almost seemed dainty in comparison.

  “You know why I’m here, old chum.”

  “Actually, I don’t.”

  Joseph further glared at him. “You were a naughty boy, turning down Rupert’s invitation last month. We were going to have a friendly chat about the...” His glance flicked very briefly to me, assessing. His cool gaze swept down my body once before he dismissed me. “The situation you’ve found yourself in.”

  “And what situation would that be?” I demanded, of course realizing it had everything to do with me.

  “Wanda, please,” Lorcan said from the corner of his mouth, but he didn’t turn his face away from Joseph. “Let me handle this.” His hands balled into fists at his sides, and his voice came from between his teeth. “I made my position clear when I spoke to Rupert over the phone. My decision hasn’t changed nor will it.”

  Joseph reached idly into the inside pocket of his sports jacket and produced a pack of cigarettes. He tapped one out, flicked it deftly between two fingers and lit it with a match. He flicked it away a moment later, and the flame petered out on the pavement. He took a long drag off the cigarette.

  “But you see, the decision ain’t up to you, Rowe. Maybe you need a reminder that Rupert’s the head of the clan, an’ his word is law.”

  “I don’t need the reminder,” Lorcan grumbled.

  Joseph cocked his head to the side, and his smile was sinister. “Blatant disrespect ain’t tolerated, Rowe...”

  “You can tell him I won’t do it,” Lorcan hissed, light glinting off his exposed teeth. The pair reminded me of posturing dogs, and I was the prize they circled.

  “It ain’t gonna matter much what you say,” Joseph responded. “An order is an order.”

  “Rupert can’t force this, Joseph. It’s my decision. She’s my heir.”

  “Okay, what is going on?” I demanded, not enjoying being talked about in third person when I was standing right there!

  “She doesn’t know?” Joseph asked with a deep chuckle.

  “She doesn’t have to know!”

  “I don’t have to know what?” I demanded, but both men ignored me. Typical.

  Joseph blew a stream of smoke into Lorcan’s face, who stiffened and, for a moment, I swore Lorcan would launch himself at the stocky man. Joseph stood very still, tensed and ready for the attack. His smile widened, anticipatory, hungry. He’d relish the excuse.

  “She’s my heir,” Lorcan repeated again. “Therefore, she’s my responsibility.”

  “You can’t hide behind that justification forever, mate,” Joseph said. “Your blood ties might mean somethin’ to you, but since it’s beginning to appear like you ain’t gonna do anything about them, we’re ready to intervene.”

  I turned to Lorcan. “Intervene? What does he mean?”

  Joseph took another drag of the cigarette, smirking. “Go on. Tell her.”

  Lorcan half-turned, expression hard. “Rupert, my adoptive sire, gave me an ultimatum.”

  “An ultimatum?” I repeated.

  He nodded. “I’ve been told to turn you, to complete the job.”

  “You’ve got a month, Rowe,” Joseph added.

  My blood chilled. I hadn’t realized how much I’d been relying on Lorcan’s gallantry until this moment. And now that gallantry might have its hand forced. A month? How on earth was I going to figure a way out of this cursed position in a month? It had taken Betanya Tayir the better part of a decade to puzzle out an equation that might reverse her status as a Blood Witch.

  “No,” I whispered.

  Joseph turned to me, and there was no pity in the deep blue of his eyes. “Me apologies, little bird, ‘tis really nothing personal. We can’t have a bloody half-turned witch running around, causing mayhem. It’s as much for your safety as ours.”