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“For what?”

“For being you. For caring so damn much what I think.” For loving me even if I wasn’t sure if I could manage to open my heart enough to trust that it wouldn’t be broken by another vampire. I had so many daddy issues.

His thumb slid over my knuckles, sending shivers of excitement up my arm that didn’t belong in this situation. But I couldn’t help my body’s reaction to him. It was biology. He was the shiny predator, and I was the captivated prey.

“Thank you for trusting me,” he said, then risked a glance over.

The building, a monstrous, gothic nightmare, rose from the distance at that moment, eliciting a very different kind of shiver from me. I had more than one taste of horror from the mansion—though both times it hadn’t been the house but the sect leader, Carmichael, that had caused the issues. The worst he’d done wasn’t even on the estate grounds, I reminded myself. No, it was in Sam’s backyard while said werewolf and Julian were trying to tear each other to shreds.

Julian’s grip on my hand tightened as though he were reading my mind. But I was the psychic here, and even I couldn’t necessarily do that. Still, it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out where my mind wandered.

“He’s dead,” Julian reminded me.

“Still making problems, though, isn’t he?” I said softly. I referred to the fact that Lydia was found holding his head and covered in blood. Not that I’d been able to talk to her or visit the crime scene. Why had it taken my father’s presence to ignore the bureaucracy? I should’ve immediately insisted we visit to clear Lydia’s name.

Shame warmed my neck. I slipped my hand from Julian’s as he pulled into the U-shaped, uneven drive, stopping in front of the entrance.

Using vamp speed, he opened the door before I could reach the handle and waited as I climbed from the car. At the top of the steps, the enormous oak door swung open and a petite vampire with long raven hair stepped onto the threshold.

“We are not receiving visitors from the base at this time,” she said in a faint German accent.

“We aren’t here on SHADE business,” I said, stepping in front of Julian. “I’m here to see my father.”

Her perfectly shaped eyebrows rose as she tilted her head in consideration when my voice hitched on the name.

“Dr. Alfred Devaux,” Julian supplied. “We…met the other night. You can remind him of that when you let him know we’re here.”

I glanced sidelong at him, but he didn’t so much as sniffle. It sounded friendly enough, but we both knew it was a veiled threat.

Try to run and I won’t be so restrained this time.

“Very well. Wait here.” The woman disappeared from the doorway in a gust of wind that knocked the heavy wood hard enough to make it creak.

“Are we going to wait?” I challenged, arms crossed over my chest.

“For now,” Julian said with a smile.

It didn’t take long for her to return, and despite her smooth appearance, she seemed disgruntled. Perhaps it was the way her long fingers tapped against her hip. “You may come in. The time of day is a bit…uncomfortable to the newer children.”

I’d hardly call young vampires children, but I kept that comment to myself since she’d invited us in. I’d hoped for something like this, but Julian’s already stiff posture seemed to pull tighter as he set his palm against the small of my back before climbing the steps.

Be on guard. They want us inside so they have the advantage if anything goes wrong.

What could possibly go wrong? I snarked, and he had to cover a snicker with a cough.

“My name is Greta,” our hostess said as she led the way over to a sitting room on the right of the grand entryway.

I was fine with not climbing the huge staircase again, since the last time I’d been here, Julian had leapt down from the top balcony with me in his arms and a horde of vampires in pursuit. This time, there was no drugged champagne, and I wasn’t bleeding at the moment, so that was an improvement.

“Pleasure to meet you,” I said. “I’m—”

“You are Dr. Charlotte Devaux and Lieutenant Julian Carver. Your reputations precede you.” She executed a slight head bow as she gestured for us to sit on a golden sofa situated on an enormous, white-and-gold rug that had to have been handcrafted and was probably worth a fortune. I didn’t even want to step on it. Crystal goblets sat waiting on a mirrored tray with a decanter full of what was likely expensive wine. But none of the opulence detracted from the four vampires standing like royal guards against the walls of the room, between the heavily draped windows. Two men and two women—one of which I recognized as a young vampire named Pandora that I’d helped the night the vamps had been drugged and lost control by countering it with my magic. I thought I saw her lips turn up in a slight smile.

So that was one vampire on my side—maybe.

“Your father will be in shortly,” Greta said. “Please help yourselves to refreshments. If there is anything else you’d like, just let someone know, and it shall be yours.”

“Thank you,” Julian said, pouring some wine into the goblets.