‘Me too.’

She leaned forward and pointed down the side of the forked road that led to her aunt’s estate. ‘That way. Hurry.’

Doc punched the gas, snapping her back. Fi squealed at the sudden start. At the turn, Chrysabelle slid across the seat and into Mal. His hands closed on her upper arms as he caught her. They were warm. From her blood.

Chrysabelle flinched. ‘Let me go.’

His hands opened, and she moved away, slightly mortified she’d had any reaction. He couldn’t have meant anything. Grabbing her was just an involuntary response. She scooted forward again to give Doc directions and to try to ignore that Mal was even more in tune with her emotions now that he’d ingested her blood.

At the second gate, she motioned toward the sidewalk that ran around the island. Her skin itched with dread. ‘Park here. If we drive up, we’ll tip our hand.’

Mal raised his brows a fraction as they all piled out of the vehicle, but said nothing. Did he expect her to go in guns blazing? What if someone was in the house? Years of training, she wanted to remind him. Training she’d paid close attention to and excelled in. What else had there been to do?

A minute after they arrived, Chrysabelle was up and on top of the stucco security wall that surrounded her aunt’s estate. Mal leaped up behind her. Still on the ground, Doc cleared his throat.

She looked back. ‘What?’ she whispered. ‘You can clear this, no problem.’

He flicked his eyes at Fi. ‘Some of us need a hand.’

‘Maybe Fi should stay with the car.’ It would be safer for her there if the security had been breached and someone was still in the house.

‘And leave me defenseless?’ Fi asked.

‘Fine, but don’t do anything rash.’ Mal reached down and gestured for her hand.

Doc lifted her up then the vampire pulled her to the top. Chrysabelle leaped to the estate grounds, leaving Mal and Doc to get Fi down. Mal and Doc landed as silently as Chrysabelle had, but Fi made a small whoof when she hit. Chrysabelle put her finger to her lips.

Fi rolled her eyes, but Mal nodded and spoke at almost inaudible levels. ‘She’s right. No more noise or talking unless necessary.’

Chrysabelle refrained from fainting. Maybe that kiss hadn’t been the train wreck she thought it was. Heat fought with the chill of her nerves. She forced down any thoughts that weren’t immediately important. Her aunt’s safety was all that mattered.

Mal bent and dragged his fingers over the ground, stirring up swirls of dust. She bent beside him. Not dust, ash. It clung to the grass where it had drifted from a larger pile. He sniffed at the residue he’d picked up, then nodded. ‘Brimstone.’ He rubbed his fingers together, sending the ash into the wind.

‘Nothos,’ she whispered with a shudder. Something bad had happened here.

Mal stood and surveyed both sides of the grass path that separated the outer wall from the interior landscaping. His gaze stayed locked on the left side as he moved forward. Again he bent and scooped ash from the ground.

She pushed to her feet. ‘Another Nothos?’

He shook his head. ‘Vampire.’ He inhaled again. ‘Fringe.’ He pointed farther down. ‘Another pile there.’

‘Three down,’ she murmured. Who’d killed them? Velimai? And where had the fringe vamp come from? Nobility used fringe as guards, but with a Nothos? Seemed like overkill.

The group followed her through the extensive landscaping, skirting the lighted areas, until she stopped them before the palms opened up to make way for the lawn. The fronds overhead shooshed against each other with a sound like gentle rain. Insects added a few clicks and buzzes, and lizards skittered through the foliage around them. The breeze was starting to pick up like a storm might be coming, but no clouds muted the stars.

She scanned the house and the surrounding grounds. The first time she’d seen the estate with its stately columns and Mediterranean styling, she’d been amazed. Now, it seemed merely an extension of the grandeur her aunt had once known. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. No cars were parked on any portion of the long circling drive that kept the house hidden from the gated street entrance.

She half-glanced at Mal, enough to get his attention without making eye contact. ‘How many heartbeats in the house?’

He stared intently for a moment. ‘Only one. Your aunt is safe.’

She exhaled the breath she’d been holding. ‘Or dead. My aunt has a live-in assistant.’

‘Then perhaps the assistant is dead.’ He shrugged.

Why would he care? Death must seem ordinary to him. Putting that thought aside, she nodded gently, not ready to accept either possibility. She turned to include Doc and Fi in her plans. ‘All of you stay here until I motion for you, otherwise the security cameras will pick you up.’

Mal rested a hand on her bare ankle. ‘You shouldn’t go alone.’

She dug a fingernail into her thigh to keep from reacting to his touch. ‘You have a better plan?’

He frowned.

‘I thought so.’ She pushed through a stand of jewel-toned cro-tons and jogged to the front door. She punched in her code, then eased the front door open.

Velimai leaped out from behind one of the large Oriental floor vases flanking the entrance, Maris’s sacre in hand. Chrysabelle jumped back, snapping her wrist blades into place. Only her superior eyesight saved her from being cut in two.

Behind her, she heard Mal snarl. She raised her hands, dropping the bone daggers back into their sheaths. ‘Velimai! It’s me, Chrysabelle!’