Killian peeled his eyes from Rupert and studied me.

I tried not to visibly gulp as the blackness of his eyes promised death and froze me where I stood.

Rupert gurgled, reminding me of the situation. I forced a shaky smile to my lips. “Do you want to put him down now?”

Killian looked back at Rupert, holding him effortlessly in the air. “You’re going to ask for mercy.”

I took a deep breath. “Yes.”

“Even though he hurt you.”

“We were in a mock fight,” I said. “And it’s not like he was trying to kill me—I’d be dead if he was.”

Actually, I would have died in my first week of training. There were hundreds of ways Rupert could have killed me when I reported to him for weightlifting, and he could have more easily made it look like an accident. The thought nagged me for a moment—if Rupert was the murderer like I thought, he’d already had ample opportunity to kill me and hadn’t. Did that just mean he had a bigger plan in mind, or was he innocent?

“He disobeyed an order.”

“Yeah, so exile him or something—you don’t kill him!” I argued. “A fae potion fixed me right up, so he didn’t even hurt me that badly.” A part of me couldn’t believe I was arguing on Rupert’s behalf, but I didn’t want him to get killed because of me.

“For something as fragile as you, the line between death and injury is a fine one,” Killian grimly said. “In accordance with your ridiculous House Medeis beliefs you’d argue for him even if he killed you.”

“No, I wouldn’t…” I trailed off when I realized it was true. If Rupert had killed an innocent in cold blood—not just me—I wouldn’t raise a finger.

And that totally went against everything House Medeis taught. But it didn’t feel wrong…

Rupert writhed in Killian’s hand and choked.

“Killian, you’re going to kill him!” I said, panic really starting to sink into me.

Killian watched Rupert with disinterest. “That’s the point.”

“But—he’s from the Drake Family. You…” I trailed off when I realized Killian wasn’t listening.

I had to do something!

I hoped with every corner of my heart that I wasn’t going to die for what I was about to do. I barreled into Killian, smacking into his chest, then stood on my tiptoes so I could reach up and place my hands over his cheeks, pulling his head down to look at me. “Don’t do this, please!”

I wish I could have thought of something more impressive or thoughtful, but I don’t think it would have moved him anyway.

A stifling silence blanketed the gym, broken only by Rupert’s wheezes. Killian stared down at me—his eyes still the bottomless shade of black that threatened to envelop me.

“Fine.” He dropped Rupert.

The vampire hit the ground with the grace of a sack of potatoes, and immediately drew in a deep, coughing breath.

I dropped my hands from Killian’s face and took a step back.

Killian turned on his heels and strode away.

I glanced back at Rupert, who was curled up, holding his neck as he tried to breathe again.

Chances were he’d hate me more if I stuck around to chat, so I hurried after Killian.

I paused at the gym door—I was supposed to be training now—but Celestina made a shooing motion, so I followed Killian out.

Killian didn’t even glance down at me when I joined him, jogging to keep up. “What is it? You got the mercy you wanted.”

“Yeah. Um, are you okay?” I asked.

Killian halted, then looked down at me, his eyebrows furrowed as he stared at me in clear confusion. “What?”

“You were really upset,” I said. “I mean, all he did was clock me one in the head.”

“He disobeyed me.”

“Yeah, you said that, but it seemed like a pretty extreme reaction.”

He blinked slowly, like a cat. “I require my Family to be obedient—and I wish to keep you compliant and easy to manipulate. Rupert threatened both of these things.”

“Killian.” I rolled my eyes. “If you are trying to keep me compliant, I have got some news for you.”

He stared down at me for a really long moment, then the corner of his right lip quirked up slightly. “You are a strange creature. Not long ago you accused Rupert of being the murderer, and yet today you spoke up on his behalf.” He gently cradled my left cheek in one hand, then pushed back my hair on my right temple, inspecting the area where Rupert had hit.

“I don’t get it either,” I admitted. “It just felt wrong.”

“And of course you must strive to live by mere feelings.” His voice contained an ounce of bite that actually made me feel a bit better.

“It’s not feelings so much as a moral code,” I said.

Killian slightly shook his head. “You virtuous idiots disgust me.”

I folded my arms behind my back as I tried to figure out what to say. “Thank you. For listening.”

Killian shrugged slightly. “Don’t make me regret my decision.”

I squawked in irritation. “How am I supposed to affect Rupert?” I demanded.

Killian laughed and sauntered off, moving at a much slower and relaxed pace.

Whatever had bothered him was gone.

I watched his back disappear down the hallway, then turned around with the intention of going back to the gym and getting myself an icepack from the freezer. Even with the fae potion I was probably due for a headache in a few minutes, so it was key I prepared. (And hopefully Josh or someone else had dragged Rupert out of the gym by now.)

As I trotted back, I had to wonder…had Killian really come down so hard just because Rupert disobeyed an order? Or was he—as unlikely as it seemed—concerned for me?

As soon as the thought formed, I laughed. It was so hilariously impossible; I was a little embarrassed I even thought it. Killian Drake was a killing, political machine. There was no way he’d ever come to trust me, much less care for me.

Ruefully, I shook my head as I re-entered the gym, where Celestina hugged me and proceeded to shove another fae potion down my throat. By the end of the day, I’d mostly forgotten about the incident, except for the implications it might have on my suspicions of Rupert.

Unfortunately, in the week that followed another vampire was murdered—the leader of the Flores Family. Despite the vampires pooling their resources—aka their spies—the murderer still hadn’t been tracked down. (Apparently this time Killian had gone so far as to hire a werewolf to sniff out the area, but she insisted she only smelled vampire, which soured the vampires on hiring additional outside help.)

The murder doubled the intensity of the air around Drake Hall, and dinners were now a grim affair. I didn’t see much of Rupert either, but Celestina wouldn’t tell me if he was still in trouble or not, she just reassigned weightlifting duty to another vampire—Gavino, whom I privately called Steely Voice.

He was pretty nice, and he told me Rupert was still alive and a part of the Drake Family, so I wasn’t too torn up about the switch.

Everyone was really on edge, which was why I was surprised and more than a little confused when, about a week and a half after my fight with Rupert, I found myself slathered in suntan lotion and floating in the mythical Drake Hall swimming pool.

It was beautiful, of course. The pool was enormous, and it wasn’t just a lap pool but had two legit waterfalls taller than a human, a big slide, and a spa that I could climb into from the pool. The surrounding patio was just as extravagant with stone tiling and lots of comfortable patio furniture arranged under huge umbrellas that were lined with the same sun-proof lining the vampires used on their personal umbrellas. The pool was fenced in with hedges and a few delicate trellises that were covered with ivy to provide additional sun coverage. One of them even spanned the deep end of the pool.

I should have expected the pool would be gorgeous—couldn’t have anything less than perfect for Killian Drake, including a swimming pool he apparently didn’t use—but I was still more than a little surprised as I floated in the warm water and squinted in the early afternoon sun. I paddled until I had successfully turned around and was facing Killian.

He—along with eight other Drake vampires—was sitting under the shade of the umbrellas. Or rather, Killian was sitting. Everyone else was standing at attention.

“What are we doing?” I asked the master vampire.

Killian took a long drink of his blood pouch—which he was again drinking like a kid sipping a juice box. It would have added to the weirdness of the afternoon, but it irked me to see he somehow still looked stylish. “I already told you. We’re testing to see if the seal on your magic is water soluble.”

I struggled to adjust myself in my inner tube, but when I was tempted to shuck it off Killian gave me the evil eye, so I kept it on even though I knew how to swim. “I might regret this, because this is probably the most enjoyable ‘test’ you’ve put me through, but are you for real?”

Killian was stretched out on a lounge chair, looking indolent and cool even though it was really hot and he was still wearing his black suit. “Would you rather we return to flinging you off buildings? Or perhaps running you until you collapse?”

I pressed my lips together. “No.”

“Then shut up.” Killian went back to his blood pouch.

Disgruntled, I paddled around the pool, returning to my own thoughts.

Rupert was still bothering me. As little as I liked it, I didn’t think he was the killer. I wasn’t stupid: he was a jerk, and he obviously hated me. But he hadn’t fought back when Killian nearly killed him.

If he was really the murderer, there’s no way he wouldn’t have fought for his life. But who else could it be? I didn’t know about the other murder victims, but I was almost positive the slayings that took place on Drake land were an inside job. Who else could get in through all the layers of security? And I wasn’t so quick to write off the werewolf’s complaints about only smelling vampires. But I also didn’t know who out of the Drake Family it could be.