She glanced at the windows. “I don’t think we need to go looking for him. I just have to call out when I’m ready to give an answer. If he wanted to send me a picture, though, he could have done it without the body. His idea of reassurance is horrifying.”

  “You know Occam loves to horrify.” Sam clicked around on the laptop. “Anthony had information on Robbie. Something small, but it’s interesting.”

  “Did he see him?”

  “No, but he heard him. He spoke to the spies. Took them off guard, which he was hoping for. Immediately after Anthony left them, one of them called Robbie.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He seemed pleased Anthony was finally taking an interest in him. Then he told the guy on the phone to ‘get back here’ and said ‘we bypassed the secondary security system so you don’t have to sneak past the police.’”

  June lifted her head. “What does that mean?”

  “I don’t know. But it seems like he’s holed up somewhere that’s being guarded.”

  “Why would he stay somewhere with police around? And that has a security system he needs to bypass?”

  “Those are good questions. Hell, why would he even stay in Chicago? At this point, his safest bet would be to get the hell out of the city, get away from the legions of people searching for him.”

  She dropped her head back down. “If he did that, he’d have to abandon his insane plan, not to mention his vampire friends he’s sure he can convince to give him eternal life.”

  “Chicago isn’t the only place with vampires. I’m worried if he doesn’t get what he’s seeking here, he’ll go somewhere else and find a vampire that will bend to his whims. And then he’ll swoop back into Chicago, horrifying and invincible….” A hollow chill filled his voice as he trailed off.

  She took her hand off the picture and slid her arm around his stomach.

  “Maybe he’ll die,” she said softly. “Maybe the thing inside him will kill him.”

  “What about his followers? They’ll carry on his legacy. His evil won’t die with him.”

  “Maybe they’d lose focus without him.”

  Sam didn’t say anything. She narrowed her eyes at his laptop screen.

  “What are you looking at?” she asked.

  “It’s Anthony’s blog. I’m seeing if anything sends up a red flag.”

  “What does he blog about?”

  “Most of it seems to be about the paranormal. A lot of navel-gazing and opinion. He doesn’t mention his own powers. He was probably afraid the Institute would throw a bag over his head and drag him back to their labs.”

  The blog posts Sam scrolled through were long and dense. “He sure spends a lot of time on there,” she said.

  “The Internet is his only friend, I’m sure. He’s got a lot of comments, though.”

  “Maybe I should start reading his blog too. I bet he’s not as fun as the CIA guy.”

  “I’ll be very careful when communicating with him. And I’ll keep doing my research.” He huffed. “By the way, the bloggers are talking about our love affair as well.”

  “I know. We’re the talk of the town.”

  “It’s thrilling.”

  “It’s horrible.”

  “You’re no fun.” He continued scrolling.

  She looked across the room, toward the dresser. She tried not to think about the heartless vampire in the front yard, or anything else horrible, like her brother and Diego ending up heartless. Or Occam sitting on her chest in the middle of the night. Or Micha, dying in a hospital bed.

  Micha.

  “That’s your brother in those pictures over there?” she asked.

  Sam draped an arm around her. “Yes. Lots of parties and awards dinners.”

  “I’ve seen your brother before.”

  He stroked his fingers through her hair. “Oh?” He didn’t sound surprised.

  “Yes, the night we met Occam in the restaurant, when he took Micha to the clinic. You disguised Micha as your brother.”

  “Very observant.”

  She moved her head to his shoulder and looked up at him. He stared at the screen.

  “Is it easier to disguise people by making them look like someone you know?”

  He shrugged. “Sometimes. It requires the same amount of concentration and energy to maintain it.”

  “Did Micha know you were disguising him as your brother?”

  “No, and you didn’t, either, until now.”

  “Was it supposed to be a secret?”

  He looked down at her, his face unreadable. “No.”

  “What was he like?” She plucked at Sam’s shirt. “You said he was into politics too. I don’t know anything else about him, except he was Kevin’s best friend. Was he involved in the Paranormal Alliance?”

  “No, not hardly.”

  “Why?”

  “He didn’t like that sort of thing. He thought I was being arrogant. He thought creating an organization like that and openly hating the Institute would bring more violence and discrimination to our kind. He thought I would do more harm than good.”

  She continued playing with his shirt, twisting and tugging at it. “Was he a shapeshifter too?”

  “No, a telepath. But he tried to suppress it. It was never very strong, according to him.”

  “So he wanted to be normal? And he wanted you to sit down and shut up about it?”

  “More or less.”

  “That must have made things difficult between you.” She tried to imagine Jason loving what he was and embracing it and crusading. She’d probably recoil like Sam’s brother and tell him to knock it off too.

  “We had our differences,” Sam said. “As we got older, we didn’t see eye-to-eye on many things. He also hated that I was besmirching his good name in politics by using my own political clout to harp on paranormal issues. I think sometimes he wished he could disconnect from me altogether.”

  “That sucks,” she said softly. “I mean, like it or not, you guys were still in the same boat.”

  “Maybe he was right. Look what happened to my people. Look how many of them were hurt and killed by Robbie. Look how many went to his side because I wasn’t doing enough.”

  “Stop it.” She pressed her hand to his chest. “We’ve been over this a million times. You’re not responsible for what Robbie did.”

  “Yet, it happened, like Thomas predicted. I created the Paranormal Alliance. I was the impetus for all this. I brought unwanted attention and pain on our kind.”

  “No, that was the Institute.”

  “It’s hard to stand up for something, even something you believe in, when people are shouting you down and threatening you. I wanted to be brave. I wanted to be some kind of hero. That was selfish of me. It never should have been about me and what I wanted.”

  She propped herself up on her elbow. “Sam. Everyone needs a hero. If you hadn’t been brave these past few months, none of us would have survived.”

  He scoffed. “You’re quite brave on your own.”

  “Yes, but being brave doesn’t always mean you know what to do. You have guts and smarts.”

  He shook his head.

  “Your brother was afraid. Like I was afraid. Remember when you first met me, how I wanted to deny what I was? To hide it? That’s because I was afraid of it. I’m still afraid of it.”

  “I guess my brother had a good reason to be afraid. He certainly paid for my sins.”

  “You didn’t kill your brother.” She sat up.

  He gazed at her. His eyes were dark and glittering.

  She lifted her arm and bent it, showing him the tattoo of the little girl. “You know who this is? It’s my little sister, Katie.”

  Sam narrowed his eyes at the portrait.

  “Jason accidentally caused her death when we were kids, with his power. It was a dumb, childish accident.”

  Sam’s face softened. “I didn’t know that. I didn’t know you had a sister.”

  She lowered her arm. “I don’t tell a lot of people, because he still feels guilty about it and blames himself. He didn’t know what he was doing. He was a kid, a kid who didn’t understand what he was and what he was capable of. Jason didn’t kill her. Circumstances beyond his control killed her.”

  Sam was silent.

  “And circumstances beyond your control killed your brother. Terrible people killed your brother.”

  Dipity stirred under the covers. June tried to keep her voice down.

  “Terrible people killed your friends in the park that day. I can say my choices led to my brother being held hostage, both at the Institute and by Occam. Micha can say his choices led to him being used as a guinea pig. None of that is true. Things happen, and they happen because of the two A’s: accidents or assholes. We’re the victims of our circumstances. You wouldn’t let me blame myself for everything, so why should I let you?”

  “No,” he said. “And you’re right. We can’t blame ourselves. But that doesn’t mean we don’t regret the things we did that played a part in our circumstances.”

  “You once told me regret is a useless emotion. You can mourn, but don’t regret. I’m sorry assholes took your brother from you. Even if you two didn’t get along, maybe someday you could have, if they hadn’t taken that opportunity away from you.”

  He blinked a few times, looking back at the screen. “I’m sorry too.” His voice thickened. “And I’m sorry that assholes hurt your brother. And your brother hurt your sister with something he couldn’t understand or control.”

  “Accidents—we can’t stop them from happening. But there’s a lot of assholes in the world. We need some brave people to hunt them down and make them pay.” She lay back down, stretching out beside him. She reached under the covers and petted Dipity, her other hand over the picture. “But why the woman thing?” She turned her head toward him. “Why do you always disguise yourself as a woman? Are they women you know?”

  The tension broke, and he chuckled. “No. It’s just fun being a woman.”

  “Sure it is, because you can change back into a man anytime you want.”

  “I like women. They’re my favorite people.”

  “Yeah, it’s awesome being a girl. Being catcalled everywhere you go, that’s a big perk.”

  “Hey, I get catcalled all the time.”

  “And you consider it an honor.” She scratched Dipity’s head. “It’s an annoyance for me. You’d think I’m scary-looking enough dudes would leave me alone. They just see it as a challenge.”

  “If anyone catcalls you from now on, especially in my presence, I’ll make them eat their tongue. Literally.”

  “My hero.” She pulled her hand from under the covers and rolled toward him. “There’s all these other perks, too, like periods. Whoo! That should be arriving soon, by the way.”

  “Mine too.”

  She pinched his side. “Jerk.”

  He reached down and gripped her wrist. “I don’t know. Disguising myself as a woman is challenging, to get the glamour to stretch over my frame and make it look believable. I like flexing my paranormal muscle, making it stronger. Your abilities get stronger the more you use them.” He eased his grip. “If they’re not getting stronger naturally, that is.”

  “I guess you’re lucky. You have to practice.”

  “I guess I am.” He smoothed his hand over her hair.

  “I remember something Occam told me about his power. How he was able to disguise the van. He said he’s had more than one natural lifetime to learn how to use it. So like, if you lived as long as him, you could probably disguise objects. You could probably do all kinds of things. Like sneak murder victims into someone’s yard.”

  He took his hand off her hair. “I’m sure if the old vampires ever allowed themselves to be subjected to study, we would have found out about the growth of our abilities over unnaturally long periods of time. It would have been fascinating.”

  “You sound regretful it never happened.”

  “Well, I certainly wouldn’t want the Institute studying those things. But someone, perhaps.”

  “If the vampires are worried their mystique is ruined now, imagine if people found out about that. I guess they have a point.”

  “They have plenty of points. Unfortunately, they use them to draw blood.” Sam stared across the room, hands on the keyboard. “Maybe Occam has gotten so good at it he can make himself invisible. Maybe he can use his power to hide himself. I can imagine the mechanics of it, though I couldn’t do it myself, of course. It would take an obscene amount of energy and intense, nearly inhuman concentration.”

  “Imagine if you could do it. You could make yourself invisible and hunt down Robbie.”

  “Maybe I should strike a deal with Occam. Get him to help me and give your brother and friend back at the same time.”

  She pushed a hand into her shirt and pulled the picture out. “You would need insane leverage to strike a deal like that. The only thing he wants is me. And I know—or at least I hope—you wouldn’t give me up.”

  “God, no.” He placed the laptop aside. “But maybe I can come up with something. Money, maybe. That’s how Aaron plies them.”

  “I don’t think money is going to buy you Robbie’s head, and also Jason and Diego. You want Occam’s help—or any of the vampires—you’re going to have to appeal, and I mean really, really appeal, to the only thing they care about, and that’s themselves.”

  Sam scooted down beside her. “Maybe.”

  She held the picture in both hands. Would she give herself up if it meant Sam could have Robbie? Was eternal life such a terrible price to pay to destroy the worst, most dangerous madman ever to run roughshod over the paranormal world and Sam’s sanity?

  Did she love Sam that much?

  She pressed the picture to her chest and stared at the ceiling.

  “I’m good at hatching plots,” Sam said.

  She glanced at the doorway. Nothing rustling out there tonight. Had Occam been in the house, spying on her? Was he the one scampering around like a rat? The idea was nauseatingly creepy.

  “If you come up with something,” she said, “I’m sure you can just call out to Occam, let him know you want to negotiate. I have a feeling his eyes are all over us, all the time.”

  Chapter 12

  June slept fitfully, her rest full of jarring dreams about finding Jason, Diego, and Sam with their hearts ripped out, scattered through Sam’s yard. In another dream, her own heart had been ripped out, but she was alive, sitting in a chair, blood dripping into her lap. No pain, just emptiness in her chest, coldness in her limbs. Occam sat in a chair across from her, smiling, his fangs glinting.

  “You were heartless, anyway,” he mocked her. “No more than I, though.” He opened his jacket to reveal his chest and a ragged, bloody hole in the center of it, oozing gore.

  She jerked awake, to sunlight.

  Sam had his arm draped over her, his body pressed against her back. Dipity was curled in a ball against her stomach.

  The morning quickly went downhill. Her enthusiasm about the vitamins faded as she sat in front of the toilet, her forehead resting on the cool porcelain. Dipity sat at her side. Sam brought her a glass of water.

  “I thought this was over.” She didn’t lift her head. “Kind of dumb, huh?”

  Sam rubbed her back. “It’s not dumb to hope.”

  Once she got the morning vomit over with, she felt better and actually wanted food. She took her vitamins, trying to restore hope, and worked on a bowl of fruit in the kitchen.

  She called her mother.

  “Anything new with your case?” her mother asked. “Do you know when I’ll be able to come see you?”

  June nibbled on a strawberry. “No, not yet.”

  “Have you heard from Jason?”

  “They’re not giving us a whole lot of opportunity to communicate. But hopefully they’ll be done with him soon.”

  “I can’t tell you how much lighter I’ve felt the past couple days, hearing your voice and seeing your face.”

  “Me too, Mom.”

  “Your friend Sam seems nice.”

  Sam had gone to the living room with his own breakfast and turned on the TV. She got the feeling he didn’t like to eat in front of her, like it would be mocking her or something.

  “Yeah.” June picked at a grape in her bowl. “He’s a great guy.”

  “You seem very close.”

  “We went through a lot together.”

  “He’s handsome.”

  “Mom.”

  “I’m just saying. Nice, smart, handsome, and a politician. He has money, doesn’t he?”

  She popped the grape into her mouth. “Please,” she said around it. “Me and a politician? That’s crazy.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot, you’re going to marry a biker and smoke at the altar.”

  She rolled her eyes. “For your information, I quit smoking.”

  “You did?” Her voice brightened. “That’s wonderful news.”

  June would probably never tell her mother she’d been shot. Hopefully, her mother didn’t see the scar.

  “It’s kinda hard to smoke in hiding,” June said. “I guess that’s the silver lining.”

  “I worry so much about your health.”

  Sam appeared in the doorway, his phone clenched in his fist. June frowned. He pointed into the living room urgently.

  “Hey, Mom,” June said. “Can I call you back in a bit? I gotta do some things.”

  “Yes, I’m not working until this afternoon. I’ll be waiting to hear back from you. I love you, darling.”

  “I love you too, Mom. I’ll call you back soon.”

  June clicked off, tense. “What is it?”

  “You better come see this.”

  “It’s not another body, is it?”

  “Not here, no.”

  She left her bowl of fruit and phone in the kitchen and followed Sam to the living room. On the TV, a woman reporter was talking. She stood in front of a white building. Sam grabbed the remote and turned it up.

  “And here at the transfusion clinic,” the woman said, “a grisly scene, as in other places around Chicago this morning. Destruction, as well as brutal multiple murders. Police are urging anyone with information to please come forward. While this latest act of deadly paranormal violence seems to be only targeting vampires, many more could be in danger.”