Blowing out a breath, I tried to focus on anything else. “Is th-that what—w-was she attacked by one of the poisoned vampires?” I stammered as his face swam in front of mine.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, shoving the folder into a stack of papers. “I didn’t want you to see that.”

“Who was it?”

He tucked the stack of paperwork into his laptop case. “A blood surrogate named Katie Rigsby. She was the first attacked. I don’t believe the culprit had the dosage quite right yet. You can see the hesitation marks in the bite wounds. The vampire in question didn’t want to do this, tried to stop. But eventually gave in.”

I glanced away, wiping at my cheeks. “Wait, Katie Rigsby? I knew her, in passing. I saw her at the Council office once or twice. She was a nice girl, one of those naturally sunny personalities. Wait, Katie died in a car accident last spring. The newspaper said she fell asleep at the wheel, driving home from a party. I took a potato casserole to her mother at the visitation!”

Cal nodded. “After documenting her condition, the Council’s ‘public relations committee,’ led by Mr. Crown, made it appear as though Ms. Rigsby died in a car accident. This is what they do to cover up a problem within the vampire community. You should know as much as anyone that vampires can be brutal and cruel.”

“But you’re not that way,” I insisted. “You could have hurt me, several times, but you haven’t even tried.”

“I can be just as bad as any of them, Iris. I’ve killed people, many people over the years. The young, the old, the rich, the poor, sinner and saint. That’s who I am, Iris. Whatever emotional attachment you may be forming to me, it should stop now. It’s not good for you, and it will mean nothing to me if it keeps me from getting what I want.”

I straightened, shrinking back from him, the taste of chocolate turning bitter in my mouth. So, that’s how it was. Clearly, my help didn’t mean anything to him. The rapport I thought we’d established, the time we spent together, didn’t even make us friends. I was, apparently, cannon fodder, destined to be used as a human shield if Cal was in danger. Mortification flushed through me, warm and watery. I’d become so lonely that I looked to an uninterested vampire for friendship. How sad was that?

I cleared my throat, clenching my teeth against the tremble in my voice. I steadied my hands against the counter, shying out of his grasp. “Don’t let Gigi see that, OK? Keep the files somewhere she won’t be able to find them.”

“I will,” he said, pulling back at my clipped, businesslike tone. “I’m afraid I’m going to need further assistance from you.”

“How do you mean?”

“I don’t have all of the information I need here. I grabbed what I could on the way out the door. I need you to go to my house later today and pick up some of my files.”

I frowned. “I’ve got a full day scheduled already. I’ve got to make up for the time I’ve already missed at work.”

He leveled his gaze at me. I swear, the only thing that could have made his stance closer to my secret naughty boss fantasies was a loosened necktie and collar. I shook my head, hoping to rid my traitorous brain of those useless sentiments. “I think I am paying you enough that I can comfortably command your attention for a week. Whether that attention is at home or in more remote locations.”

“I don’t know if you’re aware, but references like that make me sound … less than virtuous.”

“Few prostitutes are paid twenty-five thousand dollars a week for their services,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“Clearly, you’ve never been to Vegas,” I retorted. He shot me a withering glance, which I blithely ignored. “Why can’t you just go yourself?”

“Because I prefer not to burst into flames?” he retorted archly. “The house is probably being watched, and I don’t want anyone to see me. If you’re seen going in, you can explain it away, say you lost something at the house while you were dropping off the contracts and needed to retrieve it.”

“I don’t like it,” I grumbled.

“I don’t, either. If there was any other way, I would suggest it.”

We stared at each other, stalemated. It wasn’t a terribly unreasonable request, really, unless the house was being watched and I ended up in vampire jail. And refusing could mean mucking up Cal’s investigation and stretching his stay at my house past a week. While he hadn’t exactly been a nightmare guest, I wanted him gone. I wanted my quiet, predictable, pre-Cal life back, with schedules, routines, and a lack of confusing sexual tension. I wanted to be the normal, non-risk-taking non-vomit-target I once was.

I blew a breath, ruffling a hank of curly hair that had fallen in my eyes. “How much longer do you have until you have to go to sleep for the day?”

He closed his eyes, as if checking some internal gauge. “About twenty minutes before I start to feel fatigued. At full strength, I’m a bit better at staying up during the day than I used to be. It takes age and practice. And for some of the young ones, large amounts of caffeine. But honestly, unless it’s a dire emergency, there’s no real point.”

“I’ll go by the house in the afternoon, when you’ve had some time to rest. I’m going to talk to you on my phone the entire time, so if I have trouble finding your files, you can help me look … and so I don’t get home only to have you tell me you just remembered that you want your bunny slippers. Will you actually wake up, or will you pull the typical male ‘oh, babe, I guess I didn’t hear it ring’ thing?” I asked, frowning at him.

“I take it Booty Call Paul is a heavy sleeper?” he asked, smirking at me. It was nice to see him smiling from simple mirth. Of course, it was mirth at my expense, but I was willing to let that go for now.

“There’s blood in the fridge, and my numbers are on a list by the phone. I’ll be back before you wake up tonight,” I told him. “I’ll call you when I get to your house.”

The corner of his mouth lifted, revealing the barest hint of a dimple on his cheek. “Try not to trip over any of your clients today.”

“I’ll do my best,” I muttered as I walked out the back door.

—

As usual, I ran the errands scheduled for the day—a case of blood at Mr. Rychek’s house, cat food for Ms. Wexler, a meeting with a photographer who was thinking about expanding into vampire ceremonies.

And I deposited some of the rather large wad of cash Cal had given me as a “retainer.” That was unusual. I felt like I was walking around with a target on my back, carrying that much money around. There was a possibility that the Council was watching my accounts following their visit. So I put half of the money into Gigi’s college fund, which was in her name, and made a double payment on the home-equity loan. The loan payments were reasonable enough that making several increased payments over time wouldn’t raise too many eyebrows. The rest would be kept in my sock drawer for emergencies … or to lure Chick Webster to the house the next time we had a midnight plumbing disaster.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen this much cash at once, Miss Iris,” confessed Posey Stubblefield as she counted out five thousand dollars in hundreds for Gigi’s tuition fund. A recent hire, Posey had been fired from her job at the Half-Moon Hollow Public Library for setting the reference room ablaze with a badly planned Halloween display. Lit jack-o’-lanterns and newspapers were, apparently, a dangerous combination. With this in mind, I kept my very flammable stack of money close until it was absolutely necessary to hand it over.

“I’ve been saving up here and there for a while,” I told her quietly. “Sort of a cookie-jar savings account.”

“Must have been one hell of a cookie jar,” she muttered. “Do vampires really tip that well?”

I chuckled. To most humans who worked for them, vampires were notoriously horrible tippers. Most of them had been turned long before the practice became popular and seemed to resent the idea of rewarding humans for “doing their jobs properly.” But instead of bursting poor Posey’s bubble, I just nodded and signed the slip for Gigi’s deposit.

“Do you need any extra help at Beeline, Miss Iris?”

Thinking of the many jobs Posey had lost because of mysterious workplace fires, combined with the general flammability of my clients, I shuddered. “Sorry, Posey. I’m just starting out. I don’t need anyone else just yet.”

Posey shrugged and grinned good-naturedly. “Oh, well, but keep me in mind, will you?”

I booked it out of the bank lobby before Posey managed to ignite her nameplate.

Eager to make up for missing the day before, I was meticulous in my attention to detail. I double-checked invoices and triple-checked blood types. I entered my clients’ houses carefully, straightened area rugs, and left each place tidier than I found it.

I was not looking forward to going into Cal’s house later. I had a weird sense of foreboding, like a black spot hanging over the end of my day. I chalked it up to anxiety over the bank deposit and whether Posey would flap her gums about my “tips.” Anyone who knew vampires would see through that ploy right away.

I tried to think of something else, focusing on the tasks at hand. But finally, just around four, I pulled into the driveway four doors down from Cal’s house. I dialed my home number on my cell and actually hoped that Cal wouldn’t pick up, so I wouldn’t have to go in. But damned if he didn’t pick up on the second ring, sounding somewhat coherent.

Silently mouthing curses, I tucked my earpiece into my left ear and got out of the car. I pulled a slip of paper and a blue plastic card out of my purse. I punched the code into the keypad near the door. But the light over the buttons flashed an uncooperative red.

“I told you, the Council has changed your door code,” I said, checking the paper and retyping the code listed.

“That’s why I gave you that blue card,” he said, yawning.

“What does it do?”

“I can’t tell you.”

I cocked my hand on my hip and glared toward the earpiece as if he could feel my irritation through the cell connection. “I get really tired of that answer.”

“Place the card between the wall and the lockbox, and shove it until it’s between the metal plates. It will interrupt the signal to the lockbox without alerting the alarm company.”

I was about to follow his directions, but I withdrew my hand from the keypad. “Will that shock me in any way?”

I heard him yawn again. “It shouldn’t.”

“Also not a great answer,” I told him dryly as I slipped the card into place. The indicator lights flickered once and turned green. I yanked the card out and stuffed it into my pocket. The house was dark. The sunproof shades were down, and I didn’t think it would be a good idea to raise them or turn on the lights. I stilled, blinking rapidly to let my eyes adjust to the darkness.

“Cal?” I whispered into the headset. “Are you awake?”

“Barely,” he muttered. “Why are you whispering?”

“I really don’t know.” I allowed my voice to rise to a normal level. “Where do I need to look?”

“My office,” he said. “Top of the stairs, first door on the left. There should be a white cardboard file box on the desk.”

“Seriously, you just left your files out on your desk?” I asked, climbing the stairs.

“No, that’s my decoy box. I just want to see if they took it.”

“Your mind is a dark, scary place,” I murmured as I turned into the hall.

I looked into the office. The room was practically sanitized. The spare black console desk had been stripped clean. The filing cabinet had been emptied, its drawers standing open. I was surprised the Council had left the desk lamp behind. “They took your decoy box.”