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Magic pulsed in the air, and it had nothing to do with my monster or the fairies. It was shifter magic, wild and rough and barely tamed. And it was vampire magic, dark and careful and dangerous.
When he finally released my hand, which prickled from the residual magic, the intensity in his eyes had changed, evolved into satisfaction at whatever he’d seen in my eyes—or the pounding pulse he’d have felt in my wrist.
It took a full minute to find my voice again. “I have to go.”
Connor looked at me quietly for a moment, and this time his face was unreadable. “Be careful.”
I nodded and stepped back, then watched him pull on his helmet and start the bike with a roar of engine and exhaust. And then he drove off into darkness.
SEVENTEEN
It was a balmy night, and although Theo wore short sleeves, the air-conditioning in his vehicle—a former Auto withZEROWASTEandOMBUDSMANstickers on it—was turned up to arctic levels.
“Warm, are you?” I asked him, climbing inside.
“Sorry,” he said, and turned it down. “I’m from Texas. Hard habit to break. Everything all right back there? With you and Connor, I mean?”
“There isn’t a me and Connor, so yeah, everything’s fine.” Wanting to change the subject and get this particular show on the road, I glanced at him. He looked cool and collected, if excited. “If things get bad in there, you can handle yourself?”
“I don’t have your blade training, but yeah.” He lifted up the hem of his shirt, showing the gun holstered at his waist. “I was with the CPD before I joined the Ombudsman’s office. I’m a certified marksman.”
I blinked. “What? How old are you?”
He smiled. “Twenty-six. I’ve been shooting since I was ten. My parents thought it was weird, but I was good, so they dealt with it.”
“And why the switch to the Ombuds’ office?”
“You ever read comics?”
“Not really.”
“Being a human, supernaturals are kind of ‘other.’ We didn’t really have access to them—the Houses aren’t zoos—so you makeassumptions. Immortality, magic, strength. Comics, graphic novels, are how we know about those concepts. That’s how I got interested. I started as an intern, then worked the reception desk when Marge decided to retire.”
“And do you still think we’re superheroes?”
He grinned. “Most of the time, you’re a little more Bruce Wayne than Batman. But the lure’s still there.”
I tilted my head at him. “You looking to join a House?”
“No. My ma’s religious, and that would pretty much kill her.”
“Huh.”
“Yeah, she’s old school, despite my efforts to the contrary.”
“There’s only so much you can do.”
• • •
We drove to the castle and parked outside, found the gate open again. The castle was dark, and the neighborhood was silent but for the whistle of a train in the distance.
“It’s quiet,” Theo said, pulling out his weapon, turning off the safety, and checking the chamber. When he was satisfied, he holstered it again. I belted on my katana.
“It was quiet last night, too,” I said, and we stepped through the gate, walked in moonlight toward the gatehouse. “But not this quiet.”
One of the doors was open several inches. Theo looked inside, then pushed it open all the way.
The gatehouse was empty, the room lit only by the shaft of moonlight. Even the torches were gone, their holders empty.
