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“There’s an image,” was all I’d agree to.
He walked to the couch, sitting fluidly with his legs crossed and his arms stretched across the back.
“What are you thinking right now?” he asked, gaze narrowed with interest. “And no posturing.”
“That you move like a vampire.”
His grin was wide, disarming. “I’m not entirely sure, Elisa, but I don’t think you consider that a compliment.”
“It wasn’t intended to be one. What did you talk to him about?”
He frowned, smoothed a minute wrinkle in the knee of his dark trousers. “Business,” he said, without looking up. “And before you ask, no. It had nothing to do with the AAM or their shortsighted persecution of you.”
“Shortsighted?”
Jonathan raised his gaze, looked me over. Not in the way one lover gazed at another, but as a general might gaze upon a weapon. “You are unique among vampires. If they were smart, they’d make you an ally—bring you into the fold. They haven’t, so they aren’t.” He cocked his head. “What’s your interest in Blake’s death? You’re no longer working for the Ombuds’ office, yes?”
I ignored the last bit. “The vampire who killed him says he did it for me, because Blake insulted me. He also tried to kill Connor.”
He was up in an instant, the motion fluid again. “For you?”
“He believes we have a relationship, or should. Did you arrange to meet Blake at the coffee shop?”
“No. That was a coincidence. Or so I thought. Now I’m beginning to wonder.” He shook his head, slipped the frown away. “I had business in the building with a client. I’d finished that, was leaving, found Blake in the lobby.”
“You knew him already.”
“Actually, I didn’t.” He cleared his throat, as if nervous, which I seriously doubted. Probably another tic to help him assimilate, hide whatever it was that roamed beneath his skin.
I understood the feeling.
“I became curious about the AAM’s grievance. I did a bit of research regarding the Compliance Bureau, its members. It was a coincidence that I met him there—if a big one—so I asked him about the charges against you.”
“And what did he say?”
“He said they were justified, regardless of what Chicago’s vampires or the media said about it. He didn’t seem interested in having a good-faith discussion, so I left him.”
I wasn’t sure how much of what he’d told me was true, but this, I believed. If he’d had more information, he’d have dangled it in front of me, a mouse to his cat. But I much preferred the company of wolves.
“How did you leave the building?”
He blinked. “How did I leave? I called an Auto, which brought me back here. Why?”
“Just curious,” I said and pushed off the doorjamb. “Thanks for the information. I’ll leave you to your”—I shifted my gaze to the boxes—“unpacking.”
“You haven’t asked me the most important question.”
I went still in the doorway, glanced back at him. “Which is?”
“Who was with Blake when he was buying coffee.”
I stared at him. “He wasn’t alone?” The surveillance shot showed Blake by himself.
His smile was sly. “He was with a vampire.”
“Who?” I asked, my voice low and heavy. My blood was running now, wanting the name. Wanting the chase. Wanting to throw this man bodily to Clive and let them destroy their own.
But Jonathan Black knew when he held the power. He lifted a shoulder, a movement that was both elegant and careless.
