Page 37 of Fang Fatale

For a brief moment they blink into the morning sun with matching expressions.

Like two vampires reluctantly considering daylight.

I stop at the gate.

No closer.

She notices me almost immediately.

For a split second, fear flashes across her face.

Then recognition softens it into caution.

“I brought your witness a gift.”

I hold up the squeaky duck.

“For professional purposes.”

Her gaze drops to the toy.

“Professional?”

“I needed to confirm he survived his first night.”

A smile threatens the corners of her mouth.

“Is this another bribe?”

“Only if you want it to be.”

I set the duck on the bottom step.

Barnaby absolutely loses his mind.

He launches himself off Birdie's lap, snatches the duck by the neck, and proceeds to shake it with the determination of a tiny undertaker settling an old score.

Birdie laughs.

Not politely.

Not carefully.

Really laughs.

The sound catches me completely off guard.

“Thank you,” she says once Barnaby pauses long enough to squeak his prize.

I lean against the fence, careful not to brush the thorny edge of her privacy ward.

“I'm not here for Leland.”

“I figured.”

“He's a creep.”

“I know.”