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“Property records for the house that I thought was Caris’s. I’ve been following a paper trail and found an interesting deed from the 1920s.” He pulled up the image, then showed Sara the name on the deed—CV Enterprises.
“Caris Vampire?”
“Could be. She always had an interesting sense of humor.”
“And you found other properties owned by the same company?”
“I did,” he said, pushing back from the computer. “Two commercial buildings and one house. I’m going to investigate the house now.”
He saw the worry on her face. “Be careful,” she said.
“Always.”
She grabbed her purse, which made him frown. “You’re leaving? Sara, you promised to stay here.”
Confusion brushed her features. “Well, yes. But not every second of every day. I still need to work. And I need to go to my apartment and get some things.”
He nodded. She was right, of course. “Be careful. And let the security team at Division know about the doll. Have them assign you protection.”
“I will.”
“And cry out in your mind if you need me.” He stroked her hair. “I will come for you.”
“I know.”
He kissed her forehead, felt his body firing, and stepped away. “Later,” he said, brushing his fingers over her lips. “We shall continue this later.”
“We certainly will,” she said.
His phone buzzed, and he reluctantly answered it, frowning at the unfamiliar number.
“Lucius?” Tasha’s voice, and his heart tightened at the sound of it.
“Tasha? Where are you?” He held out his hand and found that Sara was already beside him, holding him tight, keeping him steady.
“They hurt me. Said I’m broken. But I’m not broken, am I, Lucius? I’m a good girl.”
“You are,” he said. “Of course you are.”
“I did a bad thing, though,” she whispered.
Fear rippled through him. “What did you do?”
“The thing inside me. I let it out. I let it out even though you told me never, ever to do that. But I couldn’t help it. I needed to get away. They were going to hurt me, Lucius. They were going to cut off my head.”
His body tensed, the serpent rising, ready to fight. Ready to kill. “Are you safe?” he asked, grinding the words out past clenched teeth.
“Yes. But I’m scared. Will you come?”
“I will,” he said, clutching Sara’s hand. “I’ll come right now.”
ChapterTwenty-Seven
The serpent was snapping at the edges of his control by the time he found his ward, curled up in the single-stall bathroom of the gas station on Santa Monica Boulevard. The attendant was pounding on the door, screaming that customers were complaining. Lucius grabbed him by the shoulders and tossed him the length of the building, where he crashed into a row of newspaper machines, knocking them over and spilling quarters out over the sidewalk.
He didn’t bother with the door handle—he simply ripped it off its hinges. Inside, Tasha screamed, then scrabbled to him on all fours, her now-gray dress dragging in the filth and muck on the bathroom floor.
“I’m here, I’m here,” he said, holding her close to his chest and soothing her. “Are you hurt? Do you know where the son of a bitch is?”
