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And stilled.
My pillow had an odd lump.
Uneasiness snaked over my nape. I slipped my hand into the pillowcase—and touched a closed switchblade.
My breath sucked in. I jerked my hand back out like I’d been burned.
I pushed up on my forearms and looked around the room.
But I was alone. You get an instinct for things like that, and Iknewno one had been here when I first entered, and after, I’d been in the living room. No one could’ve come into the suite without waking me up.
No, the blade must’ve been placed in my pillowcase earlier tonight.
I lay back down, aware that I might be under surveillance. Still, even a vampire needs some light to see, and the bedroom was pitch dark with no windows. The camera might have detected some motion, but they’d just figure I’d rolled over.
Gingerly, I slid my hand back into the pillowcase and felt around.
There was something else… There. I had it—a slip of paper about two inches square.
Leaving the switchblade where it was, I palmed the piece of paper and went into the bathroom. A couple of low lights came on, one above the sink, the other above the toilet. I closed the door and tilted the paper until I could see it in the light.
This time, it wasn’t a note, it was a photo—of my halmoni exiting her LA condo dressed in her trademark black T-shirt, jeans and white sneakers. A recent picture, because her short brown hair had gray streaks in it. She must’ve stopped dyeing it.
My stomach clenched. The message was plain.
Kuro knew where my halmoni lived. Had her under surveillance.
Stake Brien, or she’d be hurt, even killed.
Blood pounded in my ears. My fingers closed on the photo, crumpling it.
You lowdown son of a bloodsucker.
It was bad enough that Kuro was blackmailing me, but to drag my seventy-eight-year-old grandmother into it? A respected former slayer?
Shaking with anger, I sank onto the toilet seat. For a long moment, I simply sat there, jaw working, fist clamped around the photo.
Then my training took over. Ripping the photo into tiny pieces, I lifted the seat and flushed them before sitting down again.
I stared down at my knees, stomach knotted. The last of the strawberry margaritas pressed against my throat, threatening to come up.
Three things were overwhelmingly, terrifyingly clear.
One: Kuro was in this for himself. No way the SI Board would’ve approved a threat against my halmoni. Me, yes.
But not my grandmother. Not the legendary Ghost.
Two: Kuro must be here on Lilith Island. Maybe even inside the castle itself, although from what I could tell, all the castle’s human employees were members of families that had lived on the island for decades, even centuries. Either way, Kuro was close. Close enough to send me a message. Close enough to slip me a switchblade.
But it was number three that had me jumping off the toilet and running to throw up into the sink.
If I didn’t slay Brien, my halmoni would pay.
* * *
My second day started out a lot like the first, except I woke up with a headache and a mouth that tasted like cotton.
At least I’d slept. I’d lain awake for hours until exhaustion finally took me under. It was afternoon before I opened my eyes again.
