The following evening, Elise was in her bathroom, blow-drying her hair, when her phone started shimmying across the marble counter.

She went for the thing so fast, she nearly fumbled her Conair right onto the floor.

But it wasn’t Axe.

“Finally,” she said as she turned off the dryer.

“What kind of hello is that?” the male voice demanded over the connection.

“The kind you give somebody who takes this long to call back.”

Peyton, son of Peythone, cursed softly. “I’m sorry. I’ve been busy. But I’m all yours now. You okay?”

She turned away from the mirror and leaned her butt against the counter. It was hot in her fuzzy pink bathrobe, but she was keeping the thing on: Even though they weren’t FaceTiming, it didn’t seem right to be naked while she talked to her cousin.

“Why did you try and buy off Axe?”

There was a silence. “So this is about your new bodyguard, huh.”

“That was really insulting to him.”

“Lemme ask you a question, here. Exactly who do you think is guarding you? Do you know anything about him?”

“Is that a leading question? If it is, just answer it already, will you. I don’t want to play games.”

“Elise, your family has already lost so much—”

“Spare me. I’m living in this house, okay? Like I don’t know how much people are hurting?”

“Yeah, and I was the one who had to look Allishon’s parents in the eye when I told them she was dead.”

“Are we really competing over my cousin’s death here? Really?”

“Elise …” There was a long muttering. “Look, I’m not going to argue with you.”

“Good, because I feel safe around Axe. He’s been nothing but a gentlemale to me. And I don’t appreciate you disrespecting him by trying to bribe him over something that is none of your business.”

“You are my business.”

“No, I’m not. I’m your third cousin. That’s it.” As silence stretched out, she was beyond frustrated. “Maybe I shouldn’t have called.”

“Maybe.” He cursed. “I gotta go. I have to get ready for class—you want me to tell your boy you said hello?”

“Why are you being like this? And he’s not my boy.”

“Good luck with him. You’re going to need it—”

“No, you don’t get to do this. You either tell me what you’re really worried about or you cop to being an ass because you’re being overprotective. Those are your two options, Peyton. What you do not get to do is play this smoke-and-mirrors game, and then huff off like you’re being offended by my behavior.”

There was a pause. And then the laughter was rueful. “And this is why I could never date you. Cousin thing aside.”

“Well, I’m not asking you to, so there’s also that.”

“Fine, I’m being overprotective and I have no right to be. There.”

Elise exhaled and smiled a little. “You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?”

“So I am told.” Peyton exhaled. “Look, I know people like us don’t talk about these things, but that shit with Allishon is still with me. I can’t … I can’t get it out of my mind. And yes, I realize it’s making me a little psychotic. I just … I’m not sleeping, I’m—my head’s all fucked. It’s been rough.”

Elise dropped her voice to a whisper. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. God, not at all.”

“What happened to her? No one will tell me. Nobody will say anything other than she died out in the human world. They haven’t even done a Fade ceremony for her. It’s like she was here—and then she was gone, as if she never existed. And meanwhile, my aunt never leaves her room, and my uncle wanders around aimlessly.… I would love to help or understand or … just finally know what happened.”

There was a long pause. “Peyton? You still there? Hello?”

“I saw what was done to her. I saw … the violence that killed her.”

“Oh, my God, Peyton …”

“I wasn’t the one who found her. But I was the one who found out … what was done to her.”

“No wonder you’re struggling.” Elise covered her mouth with her palm. “I had no idea.”

“She wasn’t killed by a human. It was one of us.”

“Who?” she breathed.

Peyton cleared his throat. “Okay, I’m not being a dick right now, and I don’t want to end this all abruptly, but I really do have to get ready. Can we meet up and talk in person sometime?”

She thought of her date with Axe. “Tomorrow night?”

“I have it off. I’ll come to you.”

“Better that I go to your place. Especially if we’re going to be talking about her. I don’t want anybody to overhear anything.”

“Fine. And Elise, I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know. I’ll see you tomorrow. Come when you can, I’ll just be hanging in my room.”

“See you then.”

Just as she hung up, a strange tremor went through her body—and at first, she assumed it was from what she and Peyton had been discussing. But then … no, that wasn’t it.

Putting the phone down, she looked around, but come on. It wasn’t like someone was lurking in a darkened corner—in her all-white marble bathroom that had all its overhead lights on.

Leaving her phone behind, she went out into her bedroom. Glanced in all the corners, of which none were dark because she had all the lights on in there as well.

Except she wasn’t exactly scared.

More like pricklingly aware—

“Axe?” she said out loud.

Even though Elise was in her pink bathrobe, she padded out into the hall. Followed the instinct down to the main staircase. Proceeded to the first floor—

Fresh air. Someone had just come into the house.

And … Axe’s scent. It had been he who had been let in. Moreover, thanks to the blood she’d taken from him the night before, she knew precisely where he was.

Snapping her head to the left, she saw that her father’s study was closed up.

Making no sound at all, she whispered over the marble floor to the parlor that was located behind his private work space. Inside, the peach-and-silver loveliness of the wallpaper and the drapes was lost on her as she went to a built-in shelving expanse that had a scalloped top and Herend figurines of roosters and waterfowl and other birds of all kinds on its levels.

The release was hidden on the right at shoulder height, the kind of thing you couldn’t see and wouldn’t guess at—and when she toggled it, the entire unit, built some hundred and fifty years before, unhinged from the wall and slid soundlessly to the side.

Stepping into the hidden passageway, she pulled an old-fashioned metal cord with a wooden handle on the end … and back the shelves went, moving so seamlessly that the priceless porcelain collection wasn’t disturbed in the slightest.

The space was cramped and dank, but not cold, and there was enough light from the seams of the molding high above that she made her way forward about five feet … to a set of wooden steps that led up the back of a wall.

She was careful as put her slippers on the slatted wood. She didn’t weigh a ton, but she was worried about creaking sounds giving her away. Once on the highest step, she reached up to a slide that was roughly at eye level.

When she moved it aside, she could see out into her father’s study, visualizing the fire across the way, the desk, her father’s figure … and Axe, who was sitting across the desk from her sire.

Yes, she was staring out of the “eyes” of a portrait. Just like in the movies.

Her mother had cut the holes in the painting herself—and her father had nearly fainted. But oh, her mahmen had been able to get away with things like that with him.

She’d been the only one who could.

If Elise was careful not to breathe heavily, and if she concentrated on drowning out the sounds in the ductwork and the soft whistle of a breeze in the rafters, she could hear them speaking.

Her father was just sitting down, which would make sense. Clearly she had become aware of Axe’s presence the instant he’d entered her home.

And by extrapolation, he would soon guess where she was—

Sure enough, he frowned and looked across directly at her. His expression was one of almost annoyance, as if he couldn’t figure out why the hell he’d been distracted by a two-hundred-year-old portrait of some old vampire in formal dress.

“Thank you for coming,” her father said as he pulled his cuff links into proper position under the sleeves of his navy blue suit jacket. “I gather that your first evening with my daughter went satisfactorily.”

Cue a quick image of her naked, stretched out in front of Axe’s fire, his mouth and hands—

Okay, that needed to stop right now.

Axe glanced at her father. Looked back at the portrait. Refocused. “She came home safely.”

“For that I am most grateful.” Her father smiled, and seemed sincere. “She is my heart. She reminds me so much of her mother. A fiery spirit, a fierce intellect, afraid of so little. That is also why I worry.”

“And why you hired me.”

“Indeed.” Felixe cleared his throat. “On that note, I should like to expand your duties.”

“How so.”

“I will never put her under sehclusion. She would not do well with that. And I am aware that she must leave the house for other reasons than her studies from time to time. Mayhap for a festival or a get-together of females of her station.”

Yeah, right … because she was really looking to go out and have her nails done with a bunch of get-mated-obsessed Barbies?

She’d much rather save the money, keep her toenails to herself, and read through her dissertation paper one more time.

“I should like her to find a suitor.”

Elise frowned. Oh, hell no.

“Do you have one in mind?” Axe asked.

“There are a number of appropriate males whose families are looking for them to settle down. She is of age and then some. It is time, but I am certain if I state that I support the prospect in any way, she shall rebel. So I am in a very difficult situation.”

“What do you want to do about it?”

“I am aware that she left the house last night. I do not know where she went. She did not arrange for you to escort her to school—or you would have sent me your hours as we agreed and you did the evening before.”

“You want me to follow her. Even when she’s not in school.”

“And tell me where she goes. I will pay you, of course.”

Axe shifted in the chair, crossing his legs, ankle on knee. He glanced over to the painting again. Looked back. “I have training. I can’t be with her twenty-four/seven.”

“I had a GPS program installed in her phone. My butler is rather electronically adept. He can monitor where she goes and provide you with coordinates.”

“But again, what if I’m in class.”

“You could investigate where she goes afterward. On your time off.”

“Let me get this straight. You don’t want her under sehclusion, but you want to know where she goes, and if I can’t be there, you want me to pretend to be a P.I. and figure out what she was doing and with who?”

“Yes.” Felixe smiled with relief. “Exactly.”

Damn it, Father, she thought. And of course Axe was going to do it. He’d maintained he needed the job, and more money was always better—

Axe got to his feet. “Sorry. That’s not for me.”

“What?” her father said.

What? she thought.

“Look, I’m good with being her bodyguard. But sneaking around behind her back and reporting to you what she does, just so you can use it against her, isn’t my thing. If you’re so concerned with what she’s doing and who she’s seeing, you need to ask her yourself. Your daughter is one of the most up-front people I’ve ever met. She’ll tell you. She’s honest like that, even if it’s a hard discussion.”

“But … I’ll pay you more. I can pay you double.”

“Wow. You people …” Axe glanced in Elise’s direction one last time. “I have to go. Training starts in an hour and I have to eat.”

“I wish you’d reconsider.” Felixe seemed deflated. “I need your help.”

“You really don’t. You need to talk with your daughter, not treat her like she’s the enemy.”

“I only want what’s best for her.”

“If there’s anyone who’s going to know what that is, though, it’s her.”

As Axe let himself out, Elise shut the slide and hopped off the steps. Gathering her robe, she raced for the hidden shelving.

Back at the Brotherhood mansion, in his and Mary’s new bathroom, Rhage checked his pair of forties and made sure the clips were full. Then he put both of his black daggers into his holster, handles down, and verified his backup ammo.

“Merry Christmas,” he said to the reflection in the mirror over the sinks.

Funny, that this human holiday was about the birth of a savior, and yet here he was, going out into the field, on the search for death.

And yeah, he looked like a killer, especially as he pulled on a leather duster and covered up his blond hair with a black skullcap.

Then again, he could have been in a pink bathrobe and fuzzy slippers and his eyes would have given him away.

Turning from himself, he went out into the bedroom beyond. When they had moved up to the third floor only two months ago, it had felt like home immediately because Bitty had been with them. Now the suite seemed like a hotel room, something that was lovely, but transitory.

If the girl left them, they were not staying here.

In fact, he would never again go up to the third floor.

Leaving their room, he went next door, and stopped in between the jambs. Mary and Bitty were sitting on the girl’s bed, the pair of them in sweats, Bitty’s hair still damp from the shower. Mary was brushing the long lengths, starting at the ends and working her way up, as Bitty chatted along about the Christmas party that Beth and Butch were organizing for the end of the evening.

“And so this big fat guy in a red velvet suit comes down the chimney?” the girl said.

“Yes. He leaves presents under the tree, and in the morning, everyone opens their stockings and packages. You eat too much at four in the afternoon. Watch football and fall asleep. Wake up at nine o’clock. Feel peckish. Eat more. Go to bed and pass out.”

“Oh, that is Father’s kind of holiday! But we should have done it at dawn this morning, then.”

“We had to fit the schedule to what worked for the most people.”

Yeah, there had been plans in place for weeks now, but with that male showing up at the Audience House? No one had been in the mood for celebrating. Rhage and Mary had insisted the gathering go forward, though.

Maybe it would be another good distraction along the lines of Lassiter’s little miracle/balloon fight/perfectly timed show of excitement for the little girl.

Bitty went on to ask questions about Mary growing up, and Mary answered everything in the same way she was brushing that hair … slowly, gently … as if she were never going to have a chance to do it again.

“Oh, Father! Hi!”

As Bitty turned to him, her face was so open, her smile so genuine … that he wanted to lose it all over again. But he didn’t. He walked in, as if it were any other night, and murmured something, smiled, patted Bitty’s shoulder, kissed Mary on the mouth, said his goodbyes.

Bitty seemed worried.

Mary was resigned and sad.

He wanted to stay with them. He needed to go.

The beast may have stayed in its cage of flesh last night, but that wasn’t going to last with all the high-flying tension—so he had to find a fight to burn the edge off. It was going to be his only salvation.

“Be careful,” Bitty said as he took his leave.

“Always,” he whispered over his shoulder.

Instead of going to the prearranged meeting spot and joining Z and Butch and the trainees for orientation, Rhage went straight to the alleys west of Caldie’s financial district, proceeding directly into the heart of the field, to the pavement and shadows he had stalked for how long now?

The night was as cold as the previous one, but there was a humidity in the air that spoke of coming snow. The humans would like that. They would find it “seasonal” for their holiday.

There was no one wandering the stretch of deserted buildings he chose to hunt, nothing to mark the street but the burnt-out shell of an old sedan, a rotting couch, and a series of scrawny dead trees in the cracked sidewalk.

No Christmas trees twinkling in the windows. No ho-ho-ho’s from partygoers. No carols, no sleigh bells, no reindeer, no presents.

Breathing in deep, he felt a great burn inside his chest … and it was as if he were back to square one.

Ever since Mary had come into his life for good, he had enjoyed the killing because thanks to the Scribe Virgin’s good old breeding program, he had been designed since conception to protect and defend his race. But there had been none of this old-school desperation, this twitchy unhappiness, this … sad sense … that he was not a master of his destiny but subjugated to it because of his curse—

Cranking around, he tilted his nose up. Inhaled again.

Let out a growl.

Lessers were fewer and farther between now than ever, and there had been sightings, by others in the Brotherhood, of a very different kind of foe.

They were trying to determine who and what it was. Sea changes like that in the war were rarely good news—and clear evidence that the Omega was thinking again.

But the stench of baby powder that rushed up to greet him now?

It was like the one wish he’d needed to come true had been granted.

Well, the one other than Bitty staying where she belonged.

Baring his fangs, Rhage went on the hunt.