“I’ll ask her, but I don’t know of anything. She’d have mentioned it. We’re going to stay somewhere else for a little while.”

“That’s a good idea,” Theo said. “And I’m sorry. About all of this.”

“I know, Theo. I’m sorry, too. Let me know if you have any leads—or if there’s anyone I need to avoid.”

“Let me know if the AAM contacts you, or if you get another note. And if the AAM tries to confront you, we’ll step in.” He paused. “We’ll miss you over here.”

I’d miss them, too. But even if I understood the choice they had to make, the impartiality they had to show, it was hard not to feel a little betrayed. “Yeah,” was all I could manage.

“Be careful, Lis.”

I said goodbye, and had just put my screen away, come back into the main living area, when Connor cursed.

“They’re outside?” I asked.

“They are now.”

Glad I’d lit only the small lamp, I joined him at the window. Two black SUVs—the supernatural’s preferred vehicle—were parked across the street. Vampires emerged in dark clothes, drew swords as they looked up at our building.

“Damn,” I said. We were here because of the possibility they’d show up, take me in. But I guess I hadn’t actually thought they’d go so far. Be quite so bold. I’d been wrong, which I hated. So was it time to run, or time to fight?

At the steady knock on the door, we both looked back, then at each other. My blood began to speed, anticipating a fight.

“Wait,” Connor said. “How’d they get up here so fast?”

He had a point. I cocked my head at the door. There was magic flowing in, but not animosity.

“I’m not sure it’s them,” I said and checked the peep. My relief was instantaneous.

I opened the door. “Uncle Malik,” I said, grinning at the tall, dark-skinned man who stood in the doorway. “Come in.”

I moved out of the way and, when he was inside, closed and locked the door behind us.

And when we were secure again, he held out his arms.

“Bring it in,” he said, and I didn’t hesitate, but let him wrap me in comfort. We weren’t related by blood, but that didn’t matter to me any more than it did to him. He was family, and always had been. And he felt the same about me even after he’d left the House to start his own. He’d been close to my parents, but had enough distance that he’d played neutral arbiter and advice giver dozens of times over the years, including about my decision to go to France.

“It’s really good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you, too,” he said, stepping back to get a good look. “You seem to be healthy and whole”—he cast an angry look toward the window—“contrary to the apparent wishes of those below. Compliance Bureau?”

I nodded. “You heard Blake was killed?”

“I did.”

I offered him the plastic bag, watched his eyes go wide with horror, then anger, as he realized what it held.

“A stalker?” he asked.

I nodded. “Or made to look that way.”

“You’ll get this to the Ombuds?”

“We will. Why are you here?” I asked. “Is everything okay with the House? With Aunt Aaliyah?” Uncle Malik’s wife was a writer, a profession that seemed to work well for night-bound vampires.

“She’s fine. Worried about you, as we both were. I thought you might want to talk.”

Without your parents, he meant. When you could be honest.

“Thank you,” I said. “I’m sorry about the timing.”

As if on cue, shouts echoed up from the street below.

“Elisa Sullivan.” Clive’s voice boomed through the night. “You have murdered a member of the AAM in cold blood. Surrender yourself now.”

“Shut the fuck up,” a human called out somewhere below us. “Or I’ll surrender all of you to the CPD.” Her accent was thickly Chicago, and I reminded myself to send her flowers when this was done.

Whatever Clive did—probably unsheathing his sword—had the window closing again beneath us. Flowers and cheesecake, I amended.

“We will have blood for blood!” Clive called out again. “You will answer for your crimes.”

“How’d you make it past them?” Connor asked Malik, head tilted.

“I told them I was a member of the AAM and respected their work, and understood the necessity of rules and their consistent enforcement.”

That might all be true—probably was true for a Master vampire in charge of his own House. But I didn’t think he’d admit that to the vampires currently threatening his niece.

I smiled, understanding. “You glamoured them.”

“Only a little,” Uncle Malik admitted. “They were surprisingly willing to believe me.”

“You’re a Master,” Connor said, “which puts you in a rarefied class. That probably helped.”

“Possibly,” Uncle Malik said, nodding, then glanced at me. “The glamour is already fading, and we need to get you out of here. Is there a back door?”

“I’d prefer a good brawl,” I growled. “But there’s a fire escape outside the window in Lulu’s room. And there’s an exit in the basement.” Being a good vampire, I’d scoped out the egresses when I first moved in. “They’ve probably got vampires watching the fire escape, but they may not know about the basement door. It leads up stairs to the alley beside the building, and I think the well is covered by a grate.”

“Which they probably wouldn’t consider a viable exit,” Malik said. “Could we remove the grate?”

“Probably? It was pretty rusty last time I checked.”

“A little brute force does the body good,” Connor said and glanced at the bags piled on the floor. “You have everything you need?”

Eleanor of Aquitaine made a sneering sound.

“Queen of the castle?” Uncle Malik asked.

“Or so she believes. And yes, I have everything I need.” I gave the cat a thin smile. She began to wash.

“Then let’s go,” Malik said, pulling his sword. “I’ll go first and offer them a bit more glamour.”

I nodded, warned the monster to stay low. I’d give it a chance against Clive, but not tonight. Not when I’d need every bit of control I had.

Uncle Malik opened the door, checked the hallway.

“Left,” I whispered, and we hurried outside, both of them guarding me while I closed and locked the apartment.

Voices and magic rose up from the stairs. “I want her tonight!” someone called out, anger tightening the words. My heart began to race.

“Fire stairs at the end of the hall,” I whispered, and we ran down the hall and toward the open doorway. We made it inside. Carefully, I pulled up the doorstop and eased the door closed behind us, wincing at the click that echoed in the concrete stairway.

“All the way down,” I said, and we began the trek, Malik in front.

Another door opened below us, magic slipping through. “I’m checking!” someone said and footsteps moved on a landing below us.

Connor pushed me back against the wall, out of their line of sight. We were close enough that I could feel his heartbeat, the thrumming of his blood.

Uncle Malik edged out of sight, pushed out a wave of glamour that seemed to warp the air.

“Anything?” another vampire called out.

If they looked up, they’d see us, and I’d have put both Connor and Uncle Malik in danger. This was an ever-expanding spiral of danger, wrapping more and more people that I loved into it. Guilt gripped me, nearly had me calling out, offering to go with the vampires to allow the others time to escape. But Connor put his lips against my ear. “We are here by choice. And they have glamour.”

Of course they did, I thought, and hated that he’d had to remind me of it. Fear for Connor and Uncle Malik had made me susceptible. But knowing the weakness had me strengthening my defenses, and the guilt cleared away.

I met Connor’s gaze, nodded once. Saw approval flash in his eyes.

“Nothing!” the vampire called out, the word just the slightest bit slurred. “It’s empty. They must have taken the fire escape.”

“Fuck,” was the answer. “Let’s get back out there.”

We waited until the door slammed closed, the echo silenced. Then began to move downstairs again. basement was stenciled in black across the last door. We opened it, listened for noise, found none. And moved inside.

The lights were low here, spotlights that shone down on the cages that served as storage for those willing to pay the price for it. Some were empty, others piled high with extra furniture, sports equipment, cardboard boxes.

“This way,” I said and took the lead, weaving through the pathway between them across the basement floor.

We’d made it halfway across when the door squeaked open behind us.

“I feel magic,” someone said, and footsteps began to sound on the other end of the room.

“Elisa.” Uncle Malik’s voice was soft, but a warning all the same.

“There,” I said and nodded toward the door on the far end of the basement. We ran toward it, more footsteps in our wake now, and reached the door. It was chained shut, the glass panel in the top painted over.

Malik pulled his dagger, brought the handle down once, twice, across the chain. It snapped; he pulled it through, tossed it into a nearby cardboard box to muffle the sound.

Uncle Malik pushed at the door, but it was all but sealed with grime and paint and years of disuse.

“Toward the back!” someone shouted behind us.

“Allow me,” Connor said, and we moved out of his way, pulled our swords to face our pursuers.

He reared back and kicked at the door, and it squeaked open an inch. Once more, one more inch.

The sounds of running grew closer.