Connor moved in front of me when I paced his way again, put his hands on my shoulders. “Let’s go back to my place,” he said, voice soothing. “We’ll take a break and process this, decide what we want to do next.”

“I don’t want to process. I want to end this. I want justice for Blake, for you.”

“In that order?” he asked, lips curving.

“Most justice for you, slight justice for him. And I want Clive to piss off.” I leaned my forehead against his chest. “Fucking vampires.”

“Fucking vampires,” Connor said and drew me into his arms. “Thank god you aren’t dating one.”

“Can you imagine?” But the sentiment made me smile. “You’re right. We should let the CPD do this part of the job. Clive knows about Levi now, and that might be enough to send him running.” I shook my head. “He won’t leave. Not until this is done. So we have to figure out a way to end it. To wrap this up, close this circle, et cetera.” I sighed haggardly. “But first, we have to feed the cat.”

* * *

* * *

Lulu and I had agreed to take turns checking on Eleanor of Aquitaine, and my turn had come, so we drove back to the loft.

We circled the block once, then twice, looking for prying eyes, waiting vehicles, found none. We climbed out of the SUV, looked around.

The loft was dark, as it should have been. The street was quiet of magic; only humans stirred here, some preparing for work at this dark hour, some returning home from work or entertainment. But most lights were off, the steady drum of traffic from the streets on the edge of the neighborhood the only real noise.

“Anything?” Connor asked, voice a whisper in the night.

“No. You?”

He shook his head.

We went inside, glancing right and left, then cautiously took the stairs to the loft. The building was quiet, probably much to the delight of Mrs. Prohaska. And since it smelled like cabbage again, I could guess how she was spending her time.

We reached the door, and I put a hand on it, felt for any magic inside. Found nothing but the belligerent whine of a cat who was angry either that we’d left her behind or that we were trespassing in her fortress of feline solitude.

I unlocked the door, let it swing open. The loft was dark and the hallway was empty but for the pile of mail on the floor and the angry goblin-cat. Eleanor sat in front of the threshold as she so often did, tail swishing furiously.

“I’m here to feed you,” I said. “Do you prefer we leave again?”

She flicked that tail in the air and disappeared into shadows.

“She’s probably a fairly good guard,” Connor whispered. “But let’s go check.”

I nodded and we slipped inside, closed the door as quietly as possible. I picked up the mail, and we crept through the hallway, looked right and left. He motioned me toward the bedrooms, gestured toward the kitchen area.

We split, searched our areas, found nothing and no one out of place. And she hadn’t peed in my shoes, which was its own miracle.

Mood lifted, I made my way back to the kitchen. “Clear,” I said aloud, when I found him standing in the loft, hands on his hips, looking around.

“Same.”

Still. There was something mildly creepy about being in here; like the loft had been abandoned and left for dead. Something dystopian. “Let me feed her and check her water, and we can leave.”

“No argument,” Connor said and rubbed his belly. “I could eat.”

“Pizza and coffee.”

“No. And you have a problem.” He nodded toward the pile in my hand. “Any more notes?”

I flipped through it, found the usual advertisements and garbage. “Nothing,” I said, but that didn’t make me feel better. The stalker might not have found Connor’s town house, but he knew we weren’t staying here. He’d been watching.

Goose bumps lifted on my arms, and I shook the fear away, put down the mail. Fear was what he wanted, and I wasn’t going to give him that victory.

“Good girl,” Connor said, trailing his fingers over my hair, as if he’d understood my silent battle and the result of it.

His screen buzzed, and he pulled it out. “Damn it. Fight broke out in the bar.”

“As they do,” I said.

“Yeah, but this time two humans were hurt, and they’re threatening to sue the shifters they fought with. I need to make a call, and it’s likely to get loud and magicky. I better step outside.” He glanced at me, frowning. “Will you be okay in here by yourself?”

I dumped old water in the sink, turned on the tap. “Alone in my empty apartment? Yes. I’m pretty sure I can handle that difficult assignment.”

“I’ll just be outside.” He came toward me, covered my mouth with his, left me little doubt of the extent of his affection, his concern. “Be careful. Or I’ll mete out the punishment.”

I heard the door close, replaced the water dish, filled the cat food.

And wondered that Eleanor of Aquitaine didn’t come running. Fresh food, even if not the delicately sautéed line-caught Atlantic salmon she preferred, was a beckoning she rarely ignored. Probably still pissed.

Still. It was weird. I walked back into the loft, looked around. The cat had disappeared. “Eleanor of Aquitaine?”

I didn’t know there’d been magic until it was gone; I didn’t know I hadn’t been alone until I heard the voice at my ear.

“I’m very disappointed in you, Elisa.”

And then the world went dark.

NINETEEN

I felt pain before I could hear, before I could see. Then tried to move, to shift against new pains, and realized I couldn’t.

I blinked my eyes open, vision blurry from the strike, and knew from the ringing pain that radiated down my back, my arm, that he’d struck my neck. Hit the vagus nerve, probably, and I’d gone down. I was still in the loft, sitting in a chair, shoulders pulled back, hands bound behind me with what felt like fabric. The room spun, and I shook my head to clear it, used the fingers of one hand to pinch the other. The bright pain helped clear the fuzziness away.

“You’re awake.”

I looked up at the man who stood in front of me, stared at his face until it resolved from blurs to features. Pale skin, blond hair, black fatigues, and a hunting knife gleaming in the glow of streetlights through the windows.

Levi.

I was tied to a chair in the loft with my stalker.

My shoulder ached anew from being dragged behind me, and I clung to it, used it as fuel. I had to focus, because I had only a moment to decide what to do, how to play this. I opted for sympathy, hoping he was just crazed enough to buy it.

“Levi?” I asked and blinked my eyes a few times. “I’m sorry, I’m dizzy. I didn’t know you were here.”

Brown eyes smiled beneath blond hair that was shaggier than he’d worn it before. “It’s my particular version of glamour. I’m rather good at it.”

So he’d been hiding in plain sight. Connor and I had expected the loft to be empty, so a little glamour just made us think we were right. Pushed us just enough. He’d watched me talk to Connor, watched me feed the cat, until it was time to reveal himself.

“Connor will be back . . . in a minute,” I said slowly, as if still unable to focus.

“The dog will have his own problems,” Levi said. And the fear that slid through me was a cold and silver thread. “And you really, really need to stop thinking about him, Elisa.” The words were tight, pinched off, angry.

He started pacing, and I glanced down, around, looking for something to use. The weapon I needed—that gleaming knife—was in his hand. But that wasn’t going to happen, so I rubbed my wrists together, trying to scrunch up the fabric enough to get a hand free. Keep him talking, I thought, and figure out a way to get free.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean I wanted him here. I just wanted you to know that he’d be back. He’ll come looking. So you have to be careful.”

I kept my lids lowered, playacting drowsiness, and tried to listen to the world outside, to any scuffle below. But there was only silence, at least for now. Behind my eyes, the monster watched, waited. It wasn’t foggy. And it was pissed.

Soon, I told it. A promise.

Levi moved across the loft, hunting knife in hand. “I’m supposed to be your partner. Your friend.” He stopped, looked back at me. “You’re friendly with shifters—with dogs. I’m disappointed in you. So angry that I gave you my trust.”

I stared at him, trying to pick my way through his rambling words, the sentiment behind them. He was past logic and rationality.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m very sorry that I hurt you.” I softened the words with glamour, just enough to make him believe. “It’s just, I only got your note a few days ago. So this is a bit of a surprise.”

“I suppose I did take my time. But I had to wait until everything was in place.” He stopped, looked back at me. “Why didn’t you do what Clive asked? You just had to pick a House, and then I could join you. We’d be married and Masters one day, together.”

“Levi, Clive didn’t give me any time to think. He just showed up and made demands.”

“He is impulsive,” Levi agreed. “Not nearly as strategic, as intentional, as me. He doesn’t think things through,” he said, tapping a finger to his head. “Nicole wanted the Compliance Bureau, but he wanted it more. He doesn’t like cheaters. Rule breakers.”

And I didn’t like the gleam in his eyes when he said that.

“You’re an experiment,” he said, and my blood went cold.

“What do you mean?” I asked, struggling to keep my voice steady. Was this about Testing? Had they wanted to conduct scientific experiments on me?

“For the Bureau,” Levi said. “To see how far its authority extends, how much Nicole will let them do.”

That . . . had nothing to do with my making, or my monster. “You’re sure?”