The farther we drove, the harder I fought to hold on to my calm. The urge to dash up the stairs in my head and find solace in the quiet of my own mind left me staring out the window behind Lethe. This time there was no Linus to anchor me, to give me a reason to stay, but it was dangerous giving another person that kind of power over you, even when you trusted them, so I pulled myself back from the edge for a change.

After what felt like an eternity in the stifling confines of the van, the vampire pointed to a dirt road. “Turn left. You may park beneath the portico.”

On the edge of my seat, I leaned forward and had to roll in my lips to stifle an outcry.

The drive was familiar.

The landscaping familiar.

The garden…horribly familiar.

And the house…the estate…

I had been held prisoner here. I had wasted away to nothing here. I had almost, almost given up here.

The physical scars on my wrist might have been smoothed away, but the emotional ones remained.

“Do not be dismayed, mistress,” the vampire said smugly. “The master could hardly welcome you in our new clan home while your loyalties remain divided.”

This was a power play. Plain and simple. Lacroix wanted me off kilter. He wanted me spooked. Paranoid.

Mission accomplished.

Unsurprising, given his age, he had seized the upper hand before I even got in the van. I hadn’t expected to meet him on level footing—a man like him saw no one as his equal—but I hadn’t anticipated him to hit below the belt this soon. Clearly, overestimating his sentimentality toward me had been a grave error.

But, since he struck the first blow by selecting this location, I couldn’t find it in myself to feel all that bad about the stake nestled against my sternum.

Our escort got out, and a nod from me had Hood locking the doors to keep him that way.

After removing the modified pen from my pocket, I lifted my shirt and drew the protective rune I had redesigned for Linus on my lower stomach, careful to keep the stake hidden in the folds of material in case the vampire pressed his nose to the glass. When I finished, I arched an eyebrow.

Lethe raised her shirt, no hesitation. The tiny swell giving her a slight paunch made me pause, but a baby was an even better reason to protect her. I drew it on her stomach then turned to Hood. It wasn’t graceful, but he climbed into the back with us, and I drew him one between his shoulder blades.

Corbin I saved for last. If he saw my friends sporting theirs without experiencing any adverse effects, he might volunteer for his own. That was the hope. I wasn’t certain if he understood what sigils were or that the red ink was mostly blood. He didn’t appear confused as he peeled his faded tee over washboard abs puckered with cruel scars earned in his trade. I wore my reminders on the inside, just beneath the skin, so I didn’t linger over his marks or ask any questions.

With all of us protected, we let Hood get the door from the inside and finish his chauffer act by helping me step onto the driveway.

The vampire’s nostrils flared, scenting blood, and he understood that I had worked some magic, but he couldn’t be certain unless he asked me outright. I was willing to bet he wouldn’t go that far—I was still Lacroix’s granddaughter—and he didn’t out of respect for his master.

I might have entered through the front door on the night Volkov and my stalkerpire smuggled me here, but I had no memory of it thanks to the strength of Volkov’s lure. Escape brought me out here from the side of the house, near the rear, and rescue happened on the manicured lawn.

Boaz had led the charge to save me. He had been there, arms wide open, to help me limp to freedom.

Our relationship had been simpler then, and I wished I could turn back the clock, but I wouldn’t have listened to myself even if I could go back in time and shake my shoulders until my brain rattled. I had wanted him too much for too long to be satisfied without experiencing him for myself.

Now that I had, I had regrets. But without getting my heart stomped on, I would have been skipping a necessary step to my recovery there in the middle. And without that wake-up call, I might have missed out on Linus.

As if the turn in my thoughts had summoned him, Cletus materialized at my shoulder.

I glanced back to check on Lethe and Hood, both of whom refused to look at me. Not a great sign.

The details of their NDA must have been a doozy if they were locked down this tight. Admitting they had signed the paperwork left Lethe breathless. More information might cut off her oxygen altogether. I had heard of gag orders, but this was ridiculous.

Corbin stuck close as I followed the vampire through the ornate front doors, down a long hall tiled in the wheat-colored stone I recalled glimpsing through a crack in the door to my room when Lena came and went. Lena, who had been my nursemaid as a child, if my stalkerpire was to be believed.

Lena, who let me waste away to nothing without lifting a finger to help. Lena, who would have dressed me for my wedding and been hurt when I refused to kiss my groom…until he cranked up his lure anyway.

There were no fond memories for me here. I had to pack away the grim reminders and hope I got the chance to unload on someone later.

“He thought you might be more comfortable in the study.” The vampire, who had still not given his name, knocked on a door that looked the same as the dozen others lining the hall, then pushed it open. He bowed so low, he could have kissed his shins. “Your granddaughter is here to see you, Master.”

Before I was revealed, I arranged the mask of Dame Woolworth on my face, using every trick I had learned from Linus to make my persona seamless. Without knowing me, Lacroix had no hope of prying it up or peeking beneath.

“Grier, my darling girl. You look well.”

Gaspard Lacroix was frozen in his late thirties. His hair was long and black, and he kept it bound at his nape with a simple ribbon. Power rolled off his skin, giving the air a tangible weight, and my already unsettled stomach lurched. Only the tattoo between my shoulder blades kept me standing while his magic hissed I should fall on my knees before him, kiss his feet, lick the tiles beneath his shoes.

The gwyllgi had a natural immunity to vampiric lures. Otherwise, they couldn’t take odd jobs for vampires without being enslaved by them. Why pay when you can get it for free?

Corbin was the wild card, and I regretted playing him. I wasn’t certain if he had any natural immunity to a vampire of Lacroix’s caliber, or to lures at all, but I had to find out before I left him to my grandfather’s tender mercies. Now all I had to do was wait for Lacroix to strong-arm him and see if Corbin buckled.

“I appreciate you taking this meeting with me.” I arranged a polite smile. “I have a bit of a situation, and I was hoping you might counsel me.”

“Tell me more.” He gathered my hands in his, warm and dry, pressed a kiss to each of my cheeks, then pulled me toward an elegant wingback chair opposite the one he had been in when we arrived. “Sit, sit. Let us discuss this problem.” He reclaimed his seat without acknowledging anyone else was in the room. As much as I wanted to be flattered to be the center of attention, I knew a snub when I saw one. “What can I do to help? Anything. Name it, and it will be yours.”

“This is Corbin Theroux.” I gestured him forward, and he came without a trace of the nerves he must be experiencing. “He escaped a secure facility where the Grande Dame placed him for observation.” I let that sink in. That he mattered to the Grande Dame, that she had set him aside, that she wanted him observed. “He came straight to me and begged for asylum.”

I was laying it on thick, but Corbin didn’t contradict me, thankfully.

“Interesting.” Lacroix shifted his focus to Corbin, and already I could breathe easier. “Why would she…?”

“He’s Deathless.” I suppressed a flinch when Lacroix shot his gaze back to mine. “He’s my progeny.”

“Welcome.” He bounded to his feet, eyes sparkling, and shook hands with Corbin. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Forgive my earlier rudeness. I have not had much occasion to converse with my granddaughter, and she was all I saw.”

Guess I wasn’t the only one laying it on thick. Maybe it ran in the family. Perish the thought.

“I understand, sir.”

Sir. I was shocked when Corbin didn’t choke on the word, but the militant cadence to his voice betrayed that it was all an act. Good news for us, since Lacroix’s touch didn’t appear to influence Corbin’s distaste for the man.

“Well-mannered, I approve.” He indicated Corbin should take the other vacant chair. “Take a seat, son.”

The endearment set alarm bells clanging in my head, but I couldn’t pinpoint why.

“You understand the delicate nature of the issue,” I said, readjusting my mask. “I’m betrothed to the Lawson scion, but the Lawson matriarch has a vested interest in my progeny. There are no other known Deathless vampires in existence. The temptation to observe one has proven greater than the sum of his past crimes in her estimation.”

“Past crimes,” he murmured, clearly interested. “Elaborate.”

Corbin kept his head straight, eyes forward. “I come from hunter stock, sir.”

Surprise he had shared the truth of his past radiated through me, but Lacroix would approve of that killer instinct. Provided he could hone it and redirect it.

“Fascinating.” Lacroix all but rubbed his hands together. “I suppose that must have been the crime that led you to be held in the black pit they call Atramentous.”

“I was careless,” Corbin admitted, “and I got caught.”

“None of that, now.” Lacroix clucked his tongue. “You can learn, you will learn.”

The volume of the warning bells doubled, tripled, and I finally processed why his attitude grated.

I was female, to be given into an advantageous marriage. Corbin was male, and he was, by vampire law, the closest thing I had to a biological son.

Lacroix was showing his age, falling back on old prejudices, and losing mega points with me.

He was reaching if he meant to proclaim Corbin the new Lacroix heritor using that thin connective tissue, but he had embraced Volkov for less. And Corbin had the benefit of being able to sire children, which Volkov, as a Last Seed, couldn’t do. Corbin could establish a ruling bloodline. A pure bloodline.

The children of Deathless vampires were said to be true immortals, though their grandchildren were believed to be mortal, but mortals could be made immortal easy enough if you had, say, a goddess-touched granddaughter on speed dial.

I had expected Lacroix to barter with me for Corbin. I had expected to be the leverage. But I was a known entity, and Corbin was a shiny new toy, ripe for the claiming since I had as good as admitted he was a clanless fugitive.

“I will offer him asylum,” Lacroix announced. “How can I not? He is your progeny, and that makes him clan.”

Corbin, who had done a bang-up job of appearing calm and collected, shot me a sideways glance.

“You make a generous offer, Grandfather.” Unable to comfort Corbin, I got ready to dump bucketloads more shade on the Grande Dame. “They caged him, refused to teach him how to feed. He lives on donor blood. He’s ignorant to his vampire heritage.”

Lacroix couldn’t have looked more affronted than if he had been a fluffy cat who fell into a bathtub.

“Vampires are predators.” Lacroix bared his teeth, but he kept his fangs tucked politely away. “They are made for the hunt, for the kill.” He must have remembered not everyone present was on Team Murder Good. I was Team Murder Bad, but I doubted there was a local chapter. “Those were the old days,” he said, injecting nostalgia into the sentiment. “We feed without killing in this era. That is the wisest and best course to maintain our species’ anonymity.”

There was no mention of killing being wrong, not that I had expected one. Still, I felt better about Corbin’s potential immunity after he made fists so tight I was amazed he didn’t swing them at Lacroix’s head.

Corbin had dedicated his life to saving humans from The Vampire Threat. I didn’t have to be an active member of that chapter to know they used all caps for that kind of thing. Bad enough he was a vampire, that he had chosen this life, betraying his old one, but for Lacroix to expect Corbin to kill humans to survive? That was a rookie mistake.

Lacroix had grown too used to preaching conversion to the members of the Undead Coalition. And I suspected he had let slip the bait he was using on accident: the unregulated hunting of humans. A return to the old ways. His ways. He wanted to pass out sunglasses in all his Welcome to Clan Lacroix kits so that his converts might view the future through the rose-colored lenses of his past.

But Corbin hadn’t bought his way into a clan—he hadn’t wanted immortality, he had chosen it as an alternative to death. That was it. Expecting him to clap his hands and squee over a chance to spill oceans of human blood proved how out of touch Lacroix was with this demographic. Corbin would grit his teeth and starve first.

“Humans do tend to glorify the supernatural” was the most neutral response I could cobble together.

“That doesn’t mean the poor boy can’t be taught to feed from willing partners.” Lacroix didn’t hear me over the plans he was making. “I would be happy to oversee his education personally.”

He slapped Corbin on the back, his fingers digging into the meat of his shoulder, and old magic hit me.

Bend, bend, bend, it seemed to whisper across my senses, but I refused to break, and so did Corbin.

Much to my relief, he didn’t exhibit any signs he was aware of Lacroix’s grasp to strangle his will.

Touch boosted the power of a Last Seed’s lure—Volkov had illustrated that firsthand—and Lacroix was giving it all he had, pumping his lure into the room until I coughed as it lodged in my throat. The tattoo on my spine burned, the ink pulsing with my heart, the design holding Lacroix’s compulsion at bay.

Perhaps this meant Deathless were immune to Last Seeds. Perhaps they were immune to all lures. I was happy to let Linus puzzle that out. All that mattered to me was that Corbin’s eyes remained clear, and my mind remained my own.

“You have much to learn, but it has been an age since I had someone to teach.” Lacroix did a poor job of concealing his annoyance, but he appeared more intrigued than put out by this discovery. “My son, George, was adopted. Last Seeds can’t produce children, so when the time came to name my heritor, he was chosen from among the descendants of my line as the most qualified.”

The offer to Corbin was clear, but I was too busy savoring the morsel he let slip about my father. While I had been holding on to the hope Lacroix and I weren’t blood related at all—as with Volkov, sometimes a LS adopted an heritor—it was good to have confirmation.

This meant Lacroix had been cultivating his bloodline, as some vampires chose to do. They reached back to find their closest living relative and then set about ensuring their line continued, usually supporting the humans financially in return for pick of the litter as heritors or clan members were needed.

Ah well. Linus had the Grande Dame, and I had Gaspard Lacroix. No one was perfect.

Before that thought marinated for too long, Lacroix snapped his fingers.

“Say your goodbyes,” he told Corbin, “and then we will leave for our clan home.”

Corbin strode to me, eyes bright, pleading, but I had to pretend not to see, not to react.

Lacroix had to believe Corbin was buying into his spiel, not ready to snap off the nearest chair leg and stake him with it, if this was going to work.

“Corbin and I haven’t spent much time together,” I said to Lacroix. “Would you allow us a stroll through the gardens before you leave? He is my first progeny, and I have questions.”

“You will be able to maintain a relationship with him.” Lacroix smiled, and there was real cheer behind it. “I would never dream of keeping the two of you parted.” He grew wistful. “It is a shame you’re already spoken for, Grier. Just think of the children you two could give me.”

Progeny incest wasn’t really a thing, but that didn’t help me feel better about what he was suggesting, or the fact he wanted children from us. Not grandchildren. A slip of the tongue? Maybe. But I doubted it.

“Sadly, I’m engaged.” Thank you, marriage contract. “Those are only slightly less difficult to break than wedding vows.”

“Ah, well. You are still young, still fertile.” He made a gesture in the air. “The Lawson scion might not prove to be as long-lived as his mother. You can never tell about these things. A time might come when you consider the match with Corbin.”

The mask flaked off and left my face bare. I wasn’t as adept at this as Linus, and hearing Lacroix threaten him ignited a caustic blend of raw terror and panic in my chest that nothing short of setting my eyes on him would douse.

“Linus is very important to me,” I enunciated carefully. “Today, tomorrow, in a century, I would take the black if we married and he died.”

Dames and matrons who chose the black after the death of a spouse fell into two categories. Either they could afford not to wed again, and they led their family alone. Or, less commonly, their heartbrokenness and refusal to entertain marital offers drove their families into the ground.

“You’re young,” he soothed. “Hearts change with time.”

“Mine won’t.” I hadn’t framed Linus and me in that light in my mind. I still wasn’t sure how the future looked when I had been so single-minded in the past. But I knew I couldn’t lose him. Not to Atlanta, and not to my grandfather. That had to be enough until we figured out the rest. “I hope I’m never given occasion to prove I mean what I say.”

Temper sparked in his eyes, but he kept his tone civil, even if the tic in his cheek betrayed his fury.

“You are young,” he repeated. “You do not know what you say.”

“Sir,” Corbin said, calling Lacroix’s attention back to him, “if you don’t mind, I would like to escort Grier to the gardens now.”

Pleased one of us had manners at least, Lacroix chuckled. “Go on.” He smiled. “Have your walk.”

Corbin cocked his elbow and presented his arm to me, and I looped my hand through. The move was one I had come to expect from Linus, and I wondered if that’s what had given Corbin the idea. I clung to him like a lifeline, and he escorted me past Hood and Lethe, who stood posted on either side of the door but peeled aside to follow us.

We didn’t wait for our vampire escort to set out, and that explained how we ended up at the entrance to a room I had never seen from this angle but would have recognized anywhere. The paintings, I realized, hung on the opposite wall had given it away. I remembered them from all the desperate glances I shot in the hall each time Lena entered or exited my room.

Cletus, who had waited in the hall, drifted to the door and tapped his finger against it three times.

“You want us to go in there?” I bumped against the far wall before meaning to take a step.

The wraith tapped three more times, then he lowered his bony hand to grasp the knob.

The gwyllgi exchanged glances, but they kept their mouths shut.

I bit back a whimper when the door swung open on a room I remembered all too well.

The covers were thrown back, the French doors left open onto the patio. Leaves and other debris littered the floor, and the gauzy curtains danced in the breeze. Cletus drifted out into the small garden enclosed by stone walls. He paused at the patio furniture and pointed a damning finger at the concrete.

I drifted out, aware of what I would find but not understanding its significance.

A perfect seashell had been pressed into the concrete along the farthest edge. During my captivity, I had oriented myself by its curve. The patch of dirt beyond it was where I hid the porcelain shard I used to open my veins to ink on the sigils used during my escape.

I hadn’t reached the shell before the wraith crossed to me and tap, tap, tapped my front pants pocket.

“What does it want?” Corbin crowded in, looking around in confusion. “What is this place?”

“Remember the difference of opinion between me and Grandpapa? It started here, when he let his protégé, a Last Seed named Danill Volkov, kidnap me with intent to marry me. This is where they held me after a panic attack incapacitated me in my original room, which I later discovered was my nursery. Turns out my personal jailer was my nanny back in the day. How’s that for irony?”

Corbin stared at me, lips parted, but my family drama appeared to have stumped him.

When I considered how a hunter must have been raised, I wasn’t sure how that made me feel.

Until I decided, I awarded the contents of my pocket my full attention.

The ark shell from Tybee filled my palm, its sharp edge pressing into my fingertips. I withdrew it, running my thumb over the ridges, and when I could no longer resist, I knelt and placed it on the concrete beside the one embedded there.

“I don’t get it.” Corbin scratched his cheek. “What does your shell have to do with that one?”

“I’m not sure.” I pulled out my phone and snapped a picture of them side by side. “Maybe nothing.”

“Your wraith seems to think otherwise.”

“Wraiths don’t think,” I lied. “They’re nothing but spirit and bone.”

Disbelief was written across his face, but he elected not to argue with me.

Breathing out his frustration, he said, “I can’t stay with him.”

“Hush.” Eyes darting around, I pricked my finger then drew the privacy sigil that had worked so well during the carriage ride with Linus on the back of my hand. Pressure filled my ears, and they popped as a bubble of silence enclosed us. Any vampires we encountered would smell the fresh blood and assume I had been up to something, but they wouldn’t know what. That was as much a guarantee as we could ask for. “Okay, go ahead.”

Taking what must be peculiar magic in stride, Corbin repeated, “I can’t stay with him.”

“He’s willing to teach you, protect you. You’ll have a clan at your back.”

“You heard him,” Corbin growled. “He wants me to kill humans.”

“He wants you to live up to your potential,” I countered, keeping my tone neutral.

“I won’t do it.” He set his jaw. “I’ll figure out another way.”

“You’re willing to risk your life to save others? You would rather die than kill a single human?”

There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation in him. “Yes.”

“That’s what I was hoping you’d say,” I admitted, tossing aside my Dame Woolworth mask. “We need to figure out his endgame. He’s splintering the Undead Coalition. Why? He’s folding the most powerful members into his own clan rather than killing them. Why? Others are allowing their clans, some centuries old, to vanish beneath the Lacroix flag. Why?”

Corbin exhaled a slow breath like he was sorting through everything I had thrown at him.

“The vampires have been under Society rule through the Undead Coalition for as long as anyone living can remember. As far as necromancers go, anyway. Lacroix is old enough to recall what led to the Society founding the Undead Coalition. He’s old enough to know what they gave up by existing under the ruling Grande Dame’s thumb. He reemerged after I was released from Atramentous. I wondered why for a long time, but I understand now. For the first time in my life, I had no protector. My mother is dead. Maud is dead. The Grande Dame…has never cared for me. She didn’t lift a finger to liberate me until you.” I hadn’t realized it was true until the words hit my tongue, but “You saved me as much as I saved you.”

Maybe that was why, despite his past, I wanted to save him back. Second life, second chance.

“What if he wants me to…?” He rubbed his face. “I can’t hurt others, not even to live.”

“You don’t have to kill anyone,” I assured him. “Blame me. Tell him our bond compels you to admit the complete truth when I ask you a question. He can’t be sure it’s a lie. How many goddess-touched necromancers are walking around with their Deathless progeny for him to ask? Better yet, tell him I forbade you to kill. He holds power over his subjects. Why shouldn’t I?”

A fraction of the tension eased in his shoulders. “I can do that.”

“I can’t promise his intentions are any more nefarious than rebuilding his own clan from the ground up, but I have to believe if what he offered them was anything they wanted, he wouldn’t have to use compulsion to get them to defect. He cast his net for new clan members wide, and there might be innocent vampires tangled in the mesh too.”

“Compulsion?”

“Do you remember when Lacroix put his hand on your shoulder?”

“Yeah.” He rubbed the spot. “Pretty sure he left bruises.”

“He was trying to nudge your mind.” A shiver rippled down my spine. “He almost succeeded with me, but you appear to have a natural immunity.”

“We always assumed vamps got in their victims’ heads. It was the only thing that made sense. Hearing it confirmed, having a name to go with it—a lure?” He shook his head. “I saw a jogger almost break her ankle once to stop and follow a man dressed in baggy jeans and a hoodie off the track, away from the streetlights, into the shadows. I saw a guy on his way to his daughter’s ballet recital stop on the last step, smile at someone I couldn’t see, and walk off without entering the building. There have been kids too. Out playing basketball in the street after dark. They just got this look in their eyes and walked off without a word to their friends.”

“You killed those vampires.” I hadn’t meant it as an accusation, but the tone rankled him.

“I did.” He challenged me with a look. “I tracked my targets, made sure they were killers.” He rolled his shoulders. “It doesn’t make me any less of a murderer, but it helped me sleep at night. I have no innocent blood on my hands, and I plan on keeping it that way.”

“Lacroix might hammer on you until you crack.”

“I won’t.” Corbin infused steel into his voice. “Not on this.”

“Can you do this? Stay here, with him? I can’t promise he won’t make you cross lines, but you could save a lot of lives, a lot of human lives, if you help us get ahead of this.”

Corbin cast his gaze across the garden. “You just want to know what he’s planning?”

“Yep.”

“How do I get out?” He stopped his perusal on me. “When the time comes, what’s my exit strategy?”

“I hope you won’t need one.”

“You think he’ll bring me in that close?”

“He already considers you clan. Part of that is your connection to me, part of it is his need to secure what he’s identified as a valuable resource and a potential heritor. He’s going to want you to be happy to make me happy. He’s going to want to prove he can protect anyone I place in his safekeeping. Such as future progeny. He’s also going to want to stick it to the Grande Dame. He doesn’t care for her or the Society. He’s not thrilled by what they did to me, either. But seeing as how he didn’t have me sprung either, he wasn’t invested until he knew what I was and what I could do. Until I became valuable to him.”

“That’s brutal,” Corbin murmured. “I thought I got a raw deal.”

“We both had families who loved us. We might not have kept them long, but that’s still more than a lot of people get.”

Kids blessed with two families, like me, whose second mother loved them like blood, were rare. People who lost them both through violent and sudden means, well, we were probably as common as unicorns.

Corbin scratched the dark stubble on his jaw. “How am I supposed to get word to you?”

“Don’t trust Grampy to keep the lines of communication open?”

“No.”

“Your immunity complicates things. He would honor the offer to let us stay in touch if he thought he could control what you were saying and doing. Since he can’t, he’s going to ease you over to the dark side one cookie at a time.”

“Lucky for us, I don’t have a sweet tooth.”

“Will your power affect a wraith?” I raked my fingers through Cletus’s tattered cloak. “Drain him?”

“We can find out.” His gaze hooked into Cletus, and with an effort of will, he tugged on the wraith.

Cletus drifted closer to him, head cocked, then froze, the mist of his cloak darkening.

“I can’t call him,” Corbin said, sweat popping on his brow. “He can hear me, but he’s not receptive.”

“Good.”

Calling off his experiment, Corbin exhaled. “Why is that good?”

For one thing, it meant he couldn’t drain Linus through their connection. For another, it kept Maud safe.

“I’m sending Cletus with you. He’ll get a lock on your location and report back. That way Linus and I can keep an eye on you. I’ll send the wraith to your room each night until you’re confident you can go for longer stretches. The new clan home can’t be far. Lacroix has roots in the area, and old vampires prefer staying close to home.”

“Okay.” He blew out a breath. “What about afterward?”

“I’m going to talk to the Grande Dame about an immunity deal. You bring us intel on Lacroix, she grants you a pardon for your past crimes. It’s a fair trade, even though it won’t protect you from retribution unless you join a clan willing to keep you safe in exchange for the novelty of having a Deathless in their ranks.”

“You’re half vampire.” He gave me a measuring look. “Ever consider starting your own clan?”

“I’m already Dame Woolworth. I don’t want to be Master Woolworth too.”

“I get that.”

“Linus has thriving progeny and a solid reputation. One of the clans in his debt might be more willing to host you for his sake. A favor owed by the Grande Dame’s son carries weight.”

“Linus isn’t here,” he pointed out. “Are you sure you can speak for him?”

“Yes.” Even if the bottom fell out between us, he would honor this bargain. That’s the kind of man he was: honorable. “I’ll send details with Cletus when it’s safe.”

Linus would know how to make our note-passing scheme work. He had used the wraith for multiple covert ops in the past.

“Ah. There you are.” Our escort had located us at last. “I searched the gardens.”

Before turning to him, I scratched off the sigil with my fingernail. “I got sidetracked with a stroll down memory lane.”

“The nursery is untouched if you’d like to see your dollies.” The cruel edge in his voice made me wonder if he had been here during my stay, if he had been one of the vampires who escaped. “You remember your old room, don’t you?”

“I’ve wasted too much of my grandfather’s time.” I poured as much regret as I could muster into my voice. “I’ll have to request the grand tour of the estate on my next visit. I didn’t spend much time outside my room the last time I was here.”

“There were casualties the night you escaped,” he said softly. “I lost friends I’ve known for centuries.”

“Your friends should have never locked me in a cage. I don’t deal well with confinement.”

The vampire took a menacing step into my personal space, and Lethe moved. She palmed his throat and slammed him against the stone wall, a dozen feet away, pinning him with his feet dangling above the grass.

“Bad vampire,” she tsked. “Grier is under our protection.”

“You can’t—” He coughed. “The master—”

“That deal is done,” Hood said. “His secrets are safe, and so is his clan, but Grier is pack.”

Confirmation they had ties to Lacroix smarted worse than expected, but I concealed my reaction to the sting.

The vampire’s eyes widened in shock, his lips moving over the word pack like he wanted to spit out the taste.

Grandpa would love hearing that I didn’t want to be a member of his vampire clan but had accepted a spot in a gwyllgi pack.

“Put one finger on her,” Lethe snarled, their noses touching, “and I’ll bite it off then shove it up your nose into your brain. If you have one, which I’m beginning to doubt. Grier is Lacroix’s granddaughter. You’re a lackey. You’re a predator, start thinking like one. She’s so far up the food chain you can’t see her from where you’re standing.”

“Let him go.” I reached into my pocket. “I got this.”

The second she relaxed her grip, he broke away and charged me. I let him. Welcomed the confrontation, as a matter of fact. I couldn’t afford a hit to the reputation I had started building the night of the ball. I had to prove I could hold my own, that I didn’t need protectors, that I was more powerful than the familial baggage leaving ruts in the road of my life from dragging it behind me all these years.

Impact drove me to the grass. The vampire straddled my hips, clamped his hands around my throat, and squeezed.

I could have pulled the stake, but it was a last-resort kind of weapon. I would have to kill him if I drew it. I wanted my legend constructed on powerful bones, not bloody ones, so I took the modified pen in my hand and…stabbed him in the meat of his thigh.

Okay, so a little blood was required for a necromancer to get the job done.

The vampire howled and reared back as I dove into my genetic memory.

Sigils whirled through my mind, and I discarded each suggestion while searching for a statement piece.

The vampire was doing his best to strangle me while Hood restrained Lethe, whose snarl kept grabbing my attacker’s attention. The distraction gave me all the time I needed to isolate the perfect sigil. Grampa would love this.

Too busy wrapping his hands around my throat to restrain my arms, the vampire made it easy for me to dip a finger in his blood. The poor guy must have thought I was about to dig my nails into his wrists to pry him off me, but I only painted a sigil above his former pulse point.

Before higher reasoning caught up to primal instincts, I closed the design with a satisfied grin.

Power shimmered over him in a rippling cascade that left pebbled skin in its wake. His pallor, a hallmark of vampirism, only highlighted the gray sweeping over him in a second current of magic.

Eyes gone dull, he released me to touch his face. “What…have you…done?”

With him suitably distracted, I planted my left foot and right shoulder on the ground. Snapping my hips to the right as I kicked off with my left foot, I flipped the vampire onto the grass beneath me.

“I’m proving a point that I don’t need anyone to fight my battles for me.” I patted his cheek. “I’m leaving you here as a monument to stupidity that Grandfather can gaze upon as a reminder. Maybe if you play your cards right, he’ll move you into the front gardens. The view is better there, trust me.”

“You…can’t—”

Whatever he thought I couldn’t do, I had already done. His lips froze in a horror movie scream. Eyes wide, hands clawing his face, his pose left something to be desired, but a few perennials planted in the earth around him might brighten his morbid expression.

Dusting myself clean as I climbed off him, I almost smacked face-first into Lethe. “What?”

“You turned him to stone.” She toed him with her shoe. “Are you half gorgon too?”

“I would have to be a third gorgon,” I said in my best Linus-lecture voice. “But no. I’m not.”

“Let’s get out of here.” Hood grabbed us each by the upper arm. “Our hands are tied unless you’re in immediate danger.”

I dug in my heels, turning back for Corbin, but he shot me a lopsided smile and said, “I got this.”

For his sake, I hoped he was right.