“No, it doesn’t.”

“The money’s the key. We need to figure out who stood to gain by the transfers. Did you bring the obelisk home?”

“Safe and secure,” Luc put in. “It’s downstairs in the vault.”

“I called Catcher and Mallory,” Ethan added, “told them you were all right and that you’d take the obelisk to them.”

“What about my grandfather and Brett Jacobs’s murder?”

He shook his head. “He called earlier to check on you, but we didn’t chat about the murder. You’ll need to call him as soon as you can.”

“I will.”

Lindsey walked in, a bottle of blood in hand. “I saw Delia in the hallway,” she said, offering me the bottle. “She said you were awake. How do you feel?”

“Like a River troll stepped on my head.” I opened the bottle and drained it in seconds.

“Jesus, Ethan. Don’t you feed her?” Lindsey asked, taking the empty bottle again.

“Not as often as I need to, apparently.”

“You scared the shit out of me,” she said. “Glad to see you’re up and about.”

I nodded, wincing as the move turned the pain in my head to a pounding throb. “I’m fine, except for the headache.”

“It will dissipate soon enough,” Ethan said.

“Showering her with gifts would probably help her heal faster,” Lindsey suggested with a grin, rocking back on her heels.

“She doesn’t need gifts,” Ethan said. “Although a dose of common sense would help.”

Luc clucked his tongue, smiled at me. “You save his life and get no credit. What kind of Master is that?”

“The kind that prefers his Sentinel alive,” Ethan said, reaching forward and brushing a lock of hair behind my ear.

Silence descended. Lindsey took Luc’s hand and began pulling him toward the door. “Why don’t we just let Ethan check her over?”

“We could stay and watch that,” Luc said, grinning back at us. “You know, for science.”

“‘For science’ will get you punched out by your Master,” Lindsey said.

“Party pooper,” Luc said with a grin.

When they left the room, I glanced back at Ethan, found his expression grim.

“What?”

His eyes clouded, and he put a hand on my face. “I worry for you, Sentinel.”

I put my hand over his, laced our fingers together. “I’m not fragile.”

“All evidence to the contrary.”

“I’m awake and alive. Immortality has its advantages . . . primarily immortality.”

“I know, Sentinel. And you grow stronger every day. But you are still mine to protect. And you have a concussion.”

I gave him the arched eyebrow he preferred to give me. “I’ve been stabbed, kidnapped, imprisoned, and worse. A concussion is what worries you?”

I meant to make him laugh, but his expression didn’t change.

“This is exactly what I feared would happen. That you’d end up hurt because of me, because of Darius. I have known fear,” he quietly said. “I’ve soldiered, seen men die, walked toward death’s door and gone through it. But I have never known fear like the sight of you unconscious.”

“Because I was brave enough to take a shot for you?” I asked it with a smile, hoping to clear the gloom from his eyes. But to no avail.

“Because I challenged Darius. Because of the risk you’ll be injured due to my actions.”

“I got shot because someone is greedy,” I reminded him. “And I’m also the reason we found out what was going on.” Along with Jonah, Matthew, and Horace. I’d need to give them a call of thanks. And probably send a gift basket. How did you thank a group of rabble-rousing vampires for spilling the good secrets? Maybe wine.

Focus, I told myself. “This isn’t exactly a new situation. I’ve been in danger since before I became a vampire.”

“And each time our House is called upon, the danger increases. I believe in you,” he said. “Don’t think I don’t. But I love you. And I want you safe.”

“I got hurt because I did a stupendously brave thing. Let me have my moment.”

He smiled slyly. “I suppose you are what I made you.”

“The best Sentinel the GP has ever seen?”

“The sassiest, certainly.”

“Did Darius mention anything about the challenge before he left?”

“He did not.” He picked up my hand, brushed his lips softly over my fingers. “Officially, my challenge is still outstanding. I won’t revoke it; I owe more to the House than that. And more to you.”

“Well, I did save your life.”

“Are you going to be pulling that one out for a while?”

I gave him a flat look. “And you never mention taking an aspen stake for me?”

He nodded in acknowledgment. “That’s fair, I suppose. And you got me off track. When Darius has the GP in hand again, we’ll see where he stands. He’ll have to respond to the challenge one way or the other.”

Ethan’s phone rang. He pulled it out, smiled at the screen, then handed it to me. “It’s your grandfather.”

I took the phone from him, answered it. “Hi, Grandpa.”

I’d spent a lot of my childhood with my grandfather. My parents, wealthy and a little pretentious, hadn’t understood me; I hadn’t been what they’d expected. My grandparents, on the other hand, had welcomed me with open arms. Even now, years later, my grandfather still sounded relieved to hear my voice.

“Baby girl. I didn’t expect to hear your voice, but I’m certainly relieved. Not thrilled to hear you’d been injured.”

“Part of the job,” I said. “But I’m fine now. Just a little sore. Sorry to make you worry.”

“Don’t even think a thing about it. I’d rather know the uncomfortable facts than be left in the dark, although I’d much rather have you behind a desk.”

“There are nights I couldn’t agree more.”

“That’s actually why I’m calling. There’s been another murder. We think it might be connected to the Jacobs death.”

“What makes you think it’s related?”

“There was a blue cross on Jacobs’s hand.”

“I remember.”

“There’s one on this victim’s hand, as well, and we hadn’t revealed that particular detail to the press.” He paused. “I almost didn’t call you, given your last twenty-four hours, but we’d appreciate your thoughts. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think it might help Brett and Arthur.”

I could hear the worry in his voice, but it was unnecessary. He’d taken care of me too many times for me to turn down the request.

“It’s not a problem. I’ll come take a look. I’ve been down for way too long, anyway. Where is she?”

“Montrose Beach. South end.”

“I need to get dressed, and I’ll be on my way.” I hung up the phone, handed it back to Ethan. “Another body’s been found, likely connected to the Jacobs murder. Same mark on the body, and it wasn’t a public detail.”

Ethan’s mouth stayed in the same firm line. “You can’t go.”

“I have to. I said I’d help him, and I’m not going back on my word.” Slowly, I stood up, then closed my eyes and breathed through my nose, trying to stay on my feet without falling over as the room spun around me.

“Your grandfather can do this without you.”

I knew fear put the irritability in his voice, but his irritability triggered mine. “It’s something I have to do,” I said, and glanced back at him. “Isn’t that what you said to me about the note?”

His jaw tightened. “This is different.”

“I don’t think it is.”

“You can barely stand up.”

“And your safety’s at risk.” I put my hands over my eyes, rubbed. “I don’t want to argue about that goddamned note anymore. I don’t know how to talk to you about it—not when there’s something you won’t tell me about.”

“Can’t tell you about.”

I dropped my hands, looked back at him. “Because?”

Ethan looked at me silently for a very long time. “It’s to do with the threat.” He sighed, walked to the bathroom. “There’s a woman. She has information. About me. About my past.”

“You’re being blackmailed? Why? Why would . . .”

The pieces fell into place even as I said the words. The driver had wanted Ethan to bow out of the GP race. He hadn’t, and the communications kept coming.

“You know who she is—who sent the driver. Or you knew her, and she wants you to withdraw your challenge, or she’ll share the details of your past.”

I followed him into the bathroom, watched him splash water on his face. He dried his face with a towel before dropping it to the counter again.

He nodded, incrementally.

“She’s no longer trying to do this anonymously—not just by sending a messenger.”

“So it seems.”

“Who is she, and what does she know?”

“Your jealousy is showing, Sentinel.”

The response baffled me. “I’m not jealous. I’m scared shitless because this clearly bothers you, and you won’t tell me about it.”

He braced his hands on the counter, met my gaze in the mirror. “She is a woman I knew once upon a time.”

Seconds passed, and he didn’t elaborate, which only made the gears in my mind turn faster. Was it someone he’d loved? Someone he’d lost?

“And?”

“And, because she knew me, she knows my regrets.”

Regrets. What a word—so full of frightening possibilities. I knew of one in particular . . .

“Is this about Balthasar?” Ethan had imagined himself a monster due to Balthasar’s tutelage. Was “she” from that part of his past?

“The ‘what’ doesn’t matter. There’s no point in talking about it. I’m not going to talk about it.”

“Not even to someone you want to spend the rest of eternity with?”

His eyes flashed hot tendrils of green fire. “To anyone. The past is the past, and it’s going to stay that way.”

“You have to tell Luc. If the House is at risk, if the driver comes back—”

“He won’t come back,” Ethan said. “Not now.”

“Are you going to revoke your challenge?”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

I opened my mouth to object, but he shook his head.

“Let it go, Merit. Just give me some space.”

Words stuck in my throat, but I managed to keep them down. We were both adults, and he had a right to space. I could give that to him. But I turned around so he wouldn’t see the tears welling in my eyes. I would not cry in front of him. Not for this.

“Fine. I’ll give you space, and I’ll give you time.” I looked back at him, silver eyed and furious. “But you will not shut me out. Because I love you too much to let you act like an idiot.”

* * *

By the time I dressed, he was gone. He’d get his space, one way or another.

For now, I needed mine. I needed to help those who’d actually asked me to help, including my grandfather. I pulled out my phone, sent my apparent partner in this investigation a message: I’M ALIVE, BUT THERE’S BEEN ANOTHER MURDER—RELATED TO BRETT JACOBS. TIME TO INVESTIGATE1

His answer was nearly immediate: COLOR ME RELIEVED—ABOUT YOU, NOT VIC. WHEN AND WHERE?

I gave him the instructions, tucked the phone away again. At least he wasn’t pushing me away.

Since I had a job to do as vampire courier, I walked downstairs to the basement. The Ops Room hummed busily as it often did. Vampires sat at the computers along the wall. Lindsey was gone, probably outside on patrol around the grounds. Luc was at the computer station, eating popcorn from a giant blue Garrett’s canister. If I’d had any appetite, I’d have snagged some of it.

“Merit,” Luc said, sitting up when I walked in. “What the hell are you doing up?”

“There’s been another murder,” I said, and gave them the information my grandfather had offered me.

Luc’s brows lifted. “And you’re going now? In your condition?”

“I’m fine. And murder waits for no man. Or vampire. Catcher and Jeff are occupied, and the body apparently was marked, so my grandfather needs a consult.”

“And everyone’s eager to close Brett Jacobs’s case and let his family mourn him.”

I nodded. “Precisely. Jonah’s going to meet me, primarily because Ethan has a very large stick up his ass.”

Luc looked amused. “Oh? Not happy you took a bullet?”

I debated how much I could tell him, decided I couldn’t divulge the blackmail, not that I knew much to divulge. But if Ethan knew the driver’s identity—or at least who sent him—Luc had to know that. “He has suspicions about who sent the driver. But he won’t tell me who it is. He doesn’t think they’re a threat to the House.”

That was true enough, but Luc saw through it, knew that wasn’t all of it.

“And what aren’t you telling me?”

I shook my head. “He asked me for space. I think, being an adult, I’m supposed to give that to him. And you can’t ask him about it directly. He’ll deny it, deflect it. This goes back a long way for him, and he thinks he wants to handle it on his own.”