“So male vampire,” I concluded. “Anything new about the origin of the text message?”

“Not yet,” Theo said. “It was routed through an overseas server, and we’re not having much luck getting cooperation on that end.”

“What about the Pedway?” Connor asked.

“Elisa nailed it,” Petra said. “There’s an underground walkway between the Portman Grand and the Brass & Copper. It’s sixty years old and needs repairs, so it’s not accessible to the general public. Used only for employees, maintenance crews, road crews, that kind of thing. At least officially.”

“Officially?” I asked.

“They don’t get supernatural guests very often, but they do tend to mention the Pedway to vampires because the coffee shop in the Portman opens earlier than the one in the hotel.”

“Allowing vamps to get coffee before dawn in safety,” Theo said.

“But wait,” Petra said, holding up a finger. “There’s more. A concierge named Burt, which is such an old-school, conciergey name, recognized Blake from a picture. Says he mentioned the Pedway when the vampires checked in.”

“Mentioned to one of them specifically?” I asked, and she shook her head.

“The group, generally.”

“So coffee kills vampires,” Connor said.

I knew he was trying for humor, but I wasn’t in the place for it. I was glad to be right about the rest—glad to be one step closer to finding the killer—but that didn’t lessen my frustration, or my anger.

“I have a feeling I know what you’re going to say, but was there video of the tunnel perchance?”

“Neither of the access points nor the corridor itself has a camera, probably since they’re supposed to be closed to the general public. But there are sensors on the door that register when it’s used.” Theo consulted something on his screen. “It was opened ten minutes before and four minutes after Blake’s time of death; it hadn’t been opened for hours before that. It was opened ten minutes before the human’s attack, and not again until the next day.”

I sat back, closed my eyes, let what they’d told me percolate a bit. I thought of the stalker, the building, the steps he might have taken to kill his quarry.

“So Blake leaves the Portman Grand sometime before dawn, walks through the Pedway to the Brass & Copper building. He gets coffee. An unknown vampire kills him, and walks back through the Pedway to the Portman. The next night, the killer opens the door, goes through the Pedway into the Brass & Copper building again, drinks from a human, and steals his car. And doesn’t go back through the Pedway.”

“Because he has a vehicle now,” Theo finished. “Good. That’s very good, Lis.”

“And I don’t think the killer is local,” I said. “Otherwise, if his feelings are so strong, why not try to contact me before now?”

“So a vampire temporarily in Chicago needs a place to stay?” Connor asked.

I nodded.

“Put all that together, and the killer was staying at the Portman Grand,” Theo concluded. “Learned about the Pedway, used it to get to and from the Brass & Copper building. Snuck up on Blake?”

“We all saw him fight,” I said, thinking of the battle. “He was quick, made smart moves. The killer had to get close to decapitate him. I don’t think anyone could have snuck up on him, especially not ten minutes before dawn.”

“So he let someone get close,” Connor said. “Let his guard down.”

“And maybe walks with the killer from the Portman Grand to the Brass & Copper building,” I said, and let the implication hang.

“A vampire visiting Chicago and staying at the Portman Grand,” Theo said. “A vampire Blake knew and trusted.”

“Someone from the AAM killed Blake,” Petra said quietly, and silence fell heavy over the room.

“But why?” Theo asked.

Connor looked at me. “You could be reason enough. The imagined slight by Blake showing up at your door, fighting with you at the Grove. We know the killer is disturbed. Maybe those were enough to push him over the edge.”

It wouldn’t have been to any rational person or vampire, but there was nothing rational about this.

“Then why not also take out Clive, or the rest of the AAM?” I asked. “They all want me in chains or, if not that, dead. Clive is plenty bloodthirsty.”

“Aren’t all vampires?”

We all looked at Petra, who shrugged. “I don’t mean that as an insult; it’s literally true. Literally and figuratively in this case.”

“You’re not wrong.” I looked at Theo. “You need to talk to the AAM. Tell them about Blake, about the attempt on Connor. That you think Blake was killed by a vampire he trusted.”

“We can talk to them,” Theo said, “and will. But while we’ve made some logical leaps, they’re still leaps. There’s no physical evidence the killer was an AAM member.”

I knew he was right, but that only increased my frustration.

Connor’s screen buzzed, and he pulled it out, cursing as he looked at the message.

“What now?” I asked and emotionally braced myself.

“Miranda was attacked by a vampire at NAC headquarters.”

I just blinked, trying to make sense of what he’d said. “What? Is she all right?”

“Lacerations, or so the message says. Vampire had a blade.”

“If it’s Elisa’s stalker, he’s attacked someone less than a day after his unsuccessful attempt on Connor,” Theo said. “He’s escalating.”

“Maybe the stalker was frustrated he couldn’t get to Connor,” Petra said. “Tried again.”

“Has the AAM left the Portman?” I asked.

“I haven’t gotten an alert,” Theo said. “It’s not impossible the stalker, assuming he’s there with them, snuck out again and we missed it. Did you get a message taking responsibility?”

I pulled out my screen, found nothing. “Not yet, but it wasn’t immediate last time.”

Connor rose. “I have to check it out.”

Theo did the same. “I’ll go with you, if you’re amenable. She’s a shifter, and she’s accused a vampire of attacking her. That puts her in our jurisdiction.”

Connor watched him for a long moment.

“We’re on your side,” Theo said. “And hers.”

“All right,” Connor said, resigned to his bureaucratic fate. “Let’s move.”

* * *

* * *

Petra took Theo’s car back to the OMB office to continue working the case. We drove to NAC headquarters in the SUV Connor had used the night before, Theo in the backseat. There were no shifters outside, no commotion, and no sign of a scuffle. But the magic that bloomed in the air was powerful . . . and angry.

We reached the building at the same time a squad car pulled to the curb. Gwen Robinson climbed out, her uniform nearly the same as last time I’d seen her: Hair pulled back, trim suit, her badge clipped to her waist. And that unmistakable air of competence and authority. Which might come in handy.

“You called the cops,” Connor accused when we emerged from the vehicle, that unresolved anger flaring again.

“I asked the CPD to join the investigation,” Theo said, “because one of your people was assaulted. If she’s telling the truth, it’s more ammunition against the stalker or the AAM, or both. But we need it clean and on the record.”

Connor just watched him in fulminating silence. But Theo was unbowed.

“I know you care about Elisa,” he said. “But I’m not the asshole here. Roger and Gwen aren’t the assholes, either. The asshole is the killer who’s doing this, who’s putting her in the spotlight. The tighter we draw this net, the easier it will be for her.”

“And you.”

“Side benefit,” Theo agreed with a nod. “So check the ego, and let us do our jobs.”

“You interrogated her,” Connor said, eyes flashing, hot and predatory. “Like a criminal.”

“Like a party we needed to clear,” Theo said. “You know exactly why we did it, so cut the possessive bullshit. It’s insulting to both of you, and it helps the enemy. Whether the stalker is part of the AAM or not, they both win if you’re off balance. They want you off your game, because if there’s trouble between you, all the easier it is to convince Elisa to fall into line. Or so they think.” He gave me a speculative glance. “They obviously have no idea how stubborn either one of you can be.”

I just grunted. “Should I go inside to investigate this assault, or do you two want to continue arguing about me in my presence?”

For a hot, piercing minute, Connor just stared at Theo, his eyes brilliantly blue and dark with anger. And then he took a step backward, the wave of magic receding once more.

“Fine,” Connor said. “You’re right.”

Theo’s shoulders dropped. “Then I’ll say I’m sorry. Not for questioning Elisa, but that it came to this. That you’re both in this situation.”

They exchanged nods. Not as positive a development as tough handshakes, but I’d take it for now.

“Theo’s right.” Detective Robinson stepped onto the curb, having waited for the duo to work out their issues. “Dissention helps them—the AAM and stalker. You need to be a team right now. A unified front.”

Theo lifted his brows. “And you’re, what, the neutral arbiter?”

Her smile was thin. “Always. And whatever this was”—she said, circling a finger between Theo and Connor—“gives me an idea. I understand interviewing the victim may be a challenge, and that she has some animosity toward Elisa. If that’s correct, showing a little tension between Elisa and Connor—vampires versus shifters—might encourage her to be more forthright.”