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“It’s really good to see you.”
“It’s good to see you, too,” he said, stepping back to get a good look. “You seem to be healthy and whole”—he cast an angry look toward the window—“contrary to the apparent wishes of those below. Compliance Bureau?”
I nodded. “You heard Blake was killed?”
“I did.”
I offered him the plastic bag, watched his eyes go wide with horror, then anger, as he realized what it held.
“A stalker?” he asked.
I nodded. “Or made to look that way.”
“You’ll get this to the Ombuds?”
“We will. Why are you here?” I asked. “Is everything okay with the House? With Aunt Aaliyah?” Uncle Malik’s wife was a writer, a profession that seemed to work well for night-bound vampires.
“She’s fine. Worried about you, as we both were. I thought you might want to talk.”
Without your parents, he meant. When you could be honest.
“Thank you,” I said. “I’m sorry about the timing.”
As if on cue, shouts echoed up from the street below.
“Elisa Sullivan.” Clive’s voice boomed through the night. “You have murdered a member of the AAM in cold blood. Surrender yourself now.”
“Shut the fuck up,” a human called out somewhere below us. “Or I’ll surrender all of you to the CPD.” Her accent was thickly Chicago, and I reminded myself to send her flowers when this was done.
Whatever Clive did—probably unsheathing his sword—had the window closing again beneath us. Flowers and cheesecake, I amended.
“We will have blood for blood!” Clive called out again. “You will answer for your crimes.”
“How’d you make it past them?” Connor asked Malik, head tilted.
“I told them I was a member of the AAM and respected their work, and understood the necessity of rules and their consistent enforcement.”
That might all be true—probably was true for a Master vampire in charge of his own House. But I didn’t think he’d admit that to the vampires currently threatening his niece.
I smiled, understanding. “You glamoured them.”
“Only a little,” Uncle Malik admitted. “They were surprisingly willing to believe me.”
“You’re a Master,” Connor said, “which puts you in a rarefied class. That probably helped.”
“Possibly,” Uncle Malik said, nodding, then glanced at me. “The glamour is already fading, and we need to get you out of here. Is there a back door?”
“I’d prefer a good brawl,” I growled. “But there’s a fire escape outside the window in Lulu’s room. And there’s an exit in the basement.” Being a good vampire, I’d scoped out the egresses when I first moved in. “They’ve probably got vampires watching the fire escape, but they may not know about the basement door. It leads up stairs to the alley beside the building, and I think the well is covered by a grate.”
“Which they probably wouldn’t consider a viable exit,” Malik said. “Could we remove the grate?”
“Probably? It was pretty rusty last time I checked.”
“A little brute force does the body good,” Connor said and glanced at the bags piled on the floor. “You have everything you need?”
Eleanor of Aquitaine made a sneering sound.
“Queen of the castle?” Uncle Malik asked.
