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"You should go home, Miss, and light a fire. The night is going to be a cold one."
"Right now, I don't feel particularly safe in my house.” She met the big man's gray eyes. “So, where are you staying right now?"
He raised an eyebrow. “That an offer, Miss? Because if it is, I'm on duty—" What was this fixation Dunleavy seemed to have about whores? Was there some weird reason he'd made all the women here hookers, or did it simply appeal to some sick sense of humor? “It's just curiosity, nothing more."
"Ah. Well, I'm staying at the Wheaten Hotel."
"Don't you have a house here in Hartwell?"
"Yeah, but the Wheaten is closer to the...” He paused and frowned, as if trying to remember why he wasn't staying in his own home. Nikki wondered if Dunleavy needed them close to keep control. It would probably be hard to pull the strings of your puppets if they were spread far and wide.
"I have to stay close, what with the murders happening and stuff,” he finished eventually.
"And all the rangers are staying here?"
"All but Jimmy. Haven't seen him for a couple of days." Meaning Jimmy was probably dead. “Which house is Jimmy's?"
"The yellow one at the junction of King and Prospect Streets." Which, if the map Seline had drawn was correct, was about where she'd seen the light coming from.
“So, where is your place?"
"Five houses down from Jimmy's."
"And it's currently vacant?"
"Yeah."
"If you're staying here, I don't suppose you'd mind renting me your house for a few days, then, would you?"
The big man blinked, for a moment looking lost. Dunleavy obviously hadn't considered her asking that question.
"I guess.” His voice was hesitant. “It ain't much of a house, though." It'd have to be better than the place Kinnard had dumped her in. And if the rangers were living here over summer and autumn, it would surely have hot water and good heating. "We don't need much,” she said, almost stumbling over her words in her hurry to get them out. Dunleavy might not have realized she'd ask this question, but he could still stop her if she wasn't fast enough. It just depended on what sort of spell he'd bound this man with—and how much of a link he had with his puppets. “Is it okay if Michael stays there as well?"
"Michael?"
"The man upstairs."
The ranger's bewilderment increased. “I guess."
"You don't mind Michael stepping over the threshold of your home any time he pleases?" He frowned. “No, I guess not. But like I said, it ain't much." Relief slithered through her. She wasn't sure if the invitation worked secondhand like this, but if it did work, it couldn't be recanted.
And if Dunleavy was holding everyone in this section of town to keep them close and accessible, that suggested having them stay at their own homes made them in accessible. Being a vampire, he couldn't cross a threshold uninvited, and even though he controlled their minds, he couldn't force that invitation, because it had to be freely given.
So possibly, they were safe from Dunleavy when they were in that house. Whether they'd be safe from Kinnard was another matter, yet instinct suggested they might be. Why, she wasn't sure. But right now, instinct was about the only thing she could depend on.
She reached into her skirt pocket and pulled out a couple of bills. “Advance payment,” she said, handing them over.
The ranger visibly brightened. “I was running low on drinking money. This will come in handy."
"I thought you were on duty."
"I am. But I'm off in another hour or so."
She frowned. “Will anyone take over your post here?"
"Don't think so. Won't be a need, will there?"
"What about the body?"
