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I lifted the giant brass knocker. Before it fell against the wood, the door swung open. I staggered back as Lydia appeared. I hadn’t been this close to her since the day the lab was attacked. And despite the fact she was a vampire now, despite her suddenly not being in jail, despite her not wanting the cure…it was good to see her pale, sassy, goth self. I flung myself at her, hugging her to my chest so hard I might’ve crushed her if she wasn’t indestructible.

“Let. Go.” Lydia shoved gently at me until I stopped manhandling her. When I stepped back, she shook her head with the quirk of her lips.

“I missed you so much, Lyds.”

“Not enough to break me out of prison,” she snarked, leaning against the doorjamb so her cleavage threatened to pop out of the square, black bodice of her minidress. One big, booted foot rested against the building as well.

“I’m so sorry. I wanted to. Julian said we had to find proof of your innocence first, but I shouldn’t have listened.”

Lydia snorted. “It’s okay. I’m out now. The boss made sure of it. That was part of the deal. He wants to find the real killer.”

“But Lyds…he is the real killer. You saw him do it, right?” I leaned in and whispered, but she just snorted again and grasped my shoulders.

“Chill. It’s okay. He’ll give you the evidence to prove Carmichael’s death was a suicide. Done and done. Now come on in.” She led me inside and up the steps as she spoke. “Your dad is in his own world, busy in the lab, but now you’ll practically be a regular here, so he’ll see you again soon.”

Suicide? By ripping off his own head? I didn’t comment, but I wasn’t so sure I liked it. I actually found it quite annoying that both Lydia and my father seemed so enamored with this Silas guy. My skin prickled as we climbed, and the air felt thicker. Without thinking, I initiated an energetic shield around myself as psychic protection. Every fiber of my being was telling me to run the other way.

I hesitated on the final step, hand lingering on the polished banister.

The voice in the back of my mind I called Pythia spoke up after having been silent for days. Necessary. Well fine then.

Shaking off the feeling, I followed on high alert. Despite Pythia’s seldom and often cryptic bare-bones comments, if she thought it was important, then I would listen. Just like her namesake, the Oracle of Delphi, she had a reputation for never being wrong.

I found myself chewing on the inside of my cheek as Lydia pushed open double wooden doors with gilded accents and stepped aside with an expectant grin. I don’t know what I expected—maybe an evil looking man made of marble wearing a Dracula cape? But what I got was a handsome guy of about thirty in an impeccable, striped business suit, with shiny dark hair parted on the side and slicked back like a dad from a 1950’s sitcom. His golden eyes glowed unnaturally. I mentally added that to the list of ancient vampire characteristics. The older the vamp, the more unnatural the eye color.

“The infamous Dr. Devaux. Finally, we meet.” He reached out a pale hand with an onyx ring on it and waited with a dimpled smile.

Swallowing down my unease, I took his freezing hand. He shook it briskly before sitting on a velvet settee instead of at the massive maple desk. He crossed his legs at the knees and waited until I took a seat in a winged chair opposite.

“Thank you for getting Lydia out of prison—” I said. Best to be polite. “Since we both know she didn’t kill Carmichael.” Okay, maybe I was incapable of politeness unless the person deserved it.

Silas chuckled. “Just as much of a spitfire as your father said. I like it! I appreciate honesty, Doctor. May I call you Charlotte?” He waited, glowing, golden eyes drinking me in.

The green heart necklace beneath my blouse warmed uncomfortably. It was the anti-glamour charm Zoe had given me. He was trying to hypnotize me.

Asshole.

“We should probably keep things professional, Mr. Bentkirk.” I smiled sweetly.

Showing not an ounce of surprise, he relaxed back in the seat and put his arms up on either side of him. “Not a problem. I look forward to working with you, Doctor Devaux. Honestly, though, between you and your father, it might get a bit confusing.”

“Call me Char then,” I relented. “I’m not sure how much we’ll actually be working together, though.”

“For a psychic, you seem rather short-sighted, Char.” He had the audacity to wink at me. “I’ve been around for a while, so trust me when I say I see several possible future partnerships for us. But in the meantime, I simply need you to deliver this to the general for me.” He motioned behind him, and a manila folder floated off his desk and through the air. I caught it automatically. I couldn’t keep the shock off my face if I tried. That was an ability I hadn’t known vampires could possess. I was psychokinetic and a mind-bender, but I never met another person, let alone a vamp, with both those gifts. What the hell else could he do? Did he have these skills because he was a psychic before being turned? A million questions raced through my brain.

“You seem surprised, Char,” Silas commented with another dimpled smirk.

I shrugged. “Just didn’t know you were a psychic.”

“Oh. I’m not anymore. Not since my rebirth. It’s taken me hundreds of years and a lot of scientists like your father and Lydia here to help me cultivate such talents. Forgive my flippant use of them. It is such a wonderful novelty to me that I sometimes behave almost childishly to revel in the joy of using them.” He leaned forward, elbows on his desk. “But I’m sure you know all about that.”

“Hmm,” I said noncommittally, looking through the file. Notarized by three doctors, the autopsy report read suicide.

“It seems someone glamoured the poor fellow into punishing himself in the worst way possible should he do something untoward. And as Lydia can attest, he attempted such a thing with her, then proceeded to rip his own head off.”

My blood ran cold as I met his gaze with shock and mortification. How had he known I’d used my mind-bending to tell Carmichael exactly that? Was this very specific reference some sort of threat to lay the murder on me? Worse yet, was my father just assuming Silas had done it when it really was my own command that had caused his death?

Faint. I felt faint as my mouth turned dry. My heart hammered so loudly in my own head I was sure every vampire in the building could hear my tell.