“We’ll talk to him,” Catcher said.

Jeff, his tall, thin frame belying the white tiger that lived within, pushed his light brown hair behind his ears. He wore khakis, Converse, and a white button-down with the sleeves rolled up. It was his favorite look, and there was something comforting in the familiarity of it. “And check out his background,” Jeff said.

“If you don’t mind,” my grandfather said, gesturing to the chairs, “it’s late, and I’m going to sit. Would you join me?”

“Happy to,” I said, but I knew it wasn’t really “late” for my grandfather. He worked with supernaturals, so he worked long, late hours. He just wanted me to sit, to relax. Since I didn’t disagree that I needed a moment, I took the chair across from him, and the finger of amber liquid Ethan extended in a short crystal glass.

I glanced up at him, brows lifted.

“Good Irish whiskey,” he said. “It’ll take the edge off.”

I wasn’t sure I needed to take that much edge off, but I could see the worry in his eyes, so I indulged him, too, and downed it in a throat-searing gulp.

“Take me through it,” my grandfather said, and I walked them through the event from beginning to end.

“He kept talking about hearing a screaming voice, that he didn’t want to hear it anymore. He seemed confused, afraid, and angry.”

“At me?” Ethan asked. “At Cadogan?”

That was logical, since the vampire had been in Ethan’s office. “He didn’t mention you. I thought he was a supplicant, but not one that I saw tonight. And he didn’t say anything else specific.” I closed my eyes, tried to replay what he’d done, what he’d said.

“I’m not sure if he was capable of being that specific. You saw him—it looks like he’s been living on the streets for a while. Hard to say if that’s because of his demons, or if being on the streets created the demons. But it was all about the voice he was hearing—he wanted me to stop it, and when I told him I couldn’t, that I needed to get help, he grabbed the letter opener. And that had been closer than I’d wanted it to be.”

“How did he get in here?” Ethan’s voice was low, and his dangerous gaze settled on Luc. Luc’s expression wasn’t any friendlier.

“I don’t know. And I’m going to find out.” He looked at me. “I’m sorry, Merit.”

I shook my head. I wasn’t angry he’d gotten in; I’d handled myself. But if he’d found a vampire who hadn’t been able to protect himself? That would have been bad.

“I’m going to look at the security tapes right now,” Luc said.

“If he came in as a supplicant,” Ethan said, “he’d have had to sign the log. But I don’t recognize him. Did you?”

My grandfather shook his head, looked at Catcher and Jeff, who did the same. “He hasn’t been to the office.”

“Did he give you any details about the person or thing he was hearing?” my grandfather asked me. “Vampire? Human? Male or female?”

I shook my head. “Just that it kept saying hello, that it was screaming and wouldn’t stop. I can imagine how that would make someone feel crazy.”

“Sounds like he needs some help,” my grandfather said, rising. “We’ll go, help get him processed.” He pressed a light kiss to my cheek. “Make sure you get some rest. You’ve got a big night tomorrow.”

“That’s what they tell me,” I said, offering a smile I hoped would lift the shadows from Ethan’s face.

“We’ll be in touch if we find out anything,” Jeff said. “And we’ll let you know.”

Catcher didn’t say good-bye, but squeezed my arm as he passed. Coming from him, that might as well have been a bear hug.

They’d been gone only a minute when Luc knocked at the threshold, his agitated magic clear even across the room. “The House is clean,” Luc said. “We’ve started pulling the tapes, and we’ll review them and present a report to you tomorrow. It would be sooner, but dawn’s on the way.”

“No objection,” Ethan said.

Luc waited for a moment, opened his mouth to say something else, but then turned and disappeared again, irritation in every step.

“Are you and Luc going to be okay?” I asked, when we were alone in the office again.

“I’m irritated because I’m the boss,” Ethan said. “It’s my job to be irritated. And he’s irritated because he doesn’t like screwing up. That’s why he’s good at his job. Or one of the reasons. Did you know he can wrestle a steer?”

“I did not. Good to know.” I looked back at the remains of the bookshelves, the glass and books and mementos scattered on the floor. “This night took an ugly turn.”

Ethan put his hands on my cheeks, drawing my attention back to him. “You’re okay?”

“I’m fine. It was just . . .” I took a deep breath, blew it out again. “A lot to come home to. I’d expected a very lighthearted night, and got it, for the most part. Kind of a weird ending to my singledom.”

Ethan brushed a lock of hair behind my ear. “You single-handedly dispatched an intruder without a weapon in a very lovely party dress. I’d say that’s an appropriate ending.”

“Better. But still unsettling.”

I had sudden sympathy for Mallory’s feeling of existential dread, for the interminable sense that life was never going to be easy, that we’d never really be safe.

Cold feet, I told myself. It was the night before my wedding, and I was understandably anxious, and this weird incident wasn’t helping. But I didn’t have time for it right now, so I pushed the thoughts away.

“I doubt this was personal,” he said. “Not an attack against you or me, but an individual who needs help—and now can get it.”

I nodded. “You’re right. Not a harbinger. Just a lonely soul.”

“And we’ll do what we can to set him to rights.”

The clock chimed five, each peal ominous in the silence of the room. Dawn was approaching.

“I should get to my room,” I said. “Try to get some sleep.”

“Oh, you won’t be leaving my side tonight, Sentinel.”

I felt instantly relieved. But considered the repercussions. “But tradition—the whole thing about not seeing each other?”

“I am Master of this House,” Ethan said, and, as if intent on proving it, pulled me against him, melding his mouth to mine. His kisses could be sweet or tender, teasing or incendiary. This one was possessive and promising—that he was here and I was safe.

“Let’s go upstairs,” I said when the kiss was done, burying my face in his shirt, in the scent and feel of him. “Let’s leave this night behind and get started on tomorrow.”

“I’ve no objection to that, either, Sentinel. None at all.”

• • •

Our apartments on the top floor of Cadogan House were dark and cool, a few golden lamps burning away the darkness. There was no bedtime basket from Margot tonight—she’d been out of the House and probably thought I was sleeping in the small dorm room that had been my first home in the House.

I followed Ethan to the enormous closet, where my dress and his tux hung from valet bars in matching black bags, waiting for the sun to rise and fall again.

“Are you ready?”

I glanced at Ethan. He smiled at me while working his nightly ritual, taking off watch, removing keys and wallet.

“I think everything’s ready for the ceremony and the reception, if that’s what you mean.”

“You know it isn’t.”

“I guess you’ll have to see if I show up.”

He cocked an eyebrow at me while unfastening his cuff links. “I am confident that’s a joke, since you know I would hunt you to the ends of the earth if you failed to show up.”

“I’m pretty sure I can outrun you.”

His smile went sly. “Let’s test that theory,” he said, and launched toward me.

• • •