“Remind me the next time I say I’m bored that spending time with the two of you is not the solution.” Vlad stopped to scratch under Fergus’ chin as he walked in the front door of our house.
“No one invited you,” I reminded him.
“Nonsense,” he said. “I’m welcomed wherever I go.”
Clive closed the door with a huff of amusement. “If you recall, I did warn you that shopping for a teen’s first vehicle would hardly be interesting.” Dressed in charcoal slacks and a snowy white linen shirt—the man had a million white dress shirts—he looked too formal for an evening of wandering around car dealerships. That was my husband, though. He was a heartstopper, with dark blond hair, stormy gray eyes, and a face and body chiseled to perfection. He was also a thousand-year-old vampire who wore suits like a second skin. Vampires were a strangely formal lot.
Vlad leaned into his reputation and wore only black, all day, every day. He had dark shoulder-length hair that was perpetually tied at the nape of his neck and an oversized, rather ridiculous, mustache that somehow worked on him. Black eyes completed his Nosferatu look.
I let Fergus out into the back garden, and the men followed. It was a soft night. “Can I get anyone anything?”
Clive sat on the love seat and shook his head. When I glanced at Vlad, Clive chuckled. “Did you miss that, darling? Vlad kept wandering off to get himself a snack. He’s fine.”
I gave Vlad my squinty suspicious look. “I thought you and Cadmael promised to be good while you visited.”
Vlad, sitting in a chair to the side, brushed dog hair off his trousers. “Don’t be ridiculous. No one was harmed in the making of my meal. And they were as bored as I was, shuffling around with their tired, bloodshot eyes, staring at sticker prices they couldn’t afford, lost in thoughts of mounting bills.”
“He didn’t take much from any donor,” Clive said, “and he even slipped some cash in their pockets.” He grinned at Vlad. “That was almost kind. Very unlike you, old man.”
“I have no idea what you’re referring to.” Vlad glanced around at the outside wall around our backyard. “And you’re certain our voices don’t carry?”
“Yup. We’ve tested it a few times.” I went back in to get myself a soda. When I came out and sat beside Clive, he was explaining to Vlad about all the warding the house had.
“And I happen to know that when Garyn was in the city, she sent people to break in. They couldn’t. Even she?—”
Clive, who had his arm around me, squeezed my shoulder to shut me up.
I turned to him. “He knows what I can do.”
“Yes,” Vlad said, “but he doesn’t like it when you remind me.” Fergus dropped his head in Vlad’s lap and Vlad almost smiled as he began stroking the top of my dog’s head. “I’ve told you before. I would never hurt your wife.” Lifting his head to stare at Clive, he finally said, “It was my suggestion to kill everyone in Budapest who could have put her at risk. Surely that affords me a modicum of trust.”
Clive’s hand had gentled on my shoulder, his thumb brushing back and forth. I felt his gaze on me a moment before he said, “I trust no one where Sam is concerned.”
I opened my mouth to argue such an over-the-top comment, but Vlad cut me off. “No. He’s right. We’ve both lived long enough—though he much longer than me—to know how common it is to be betrayed by those we trust.”
“And trusting someone with my own life,” Clive murmured as he leaned in to kiss my temple, “is very different from trusting someone with yours. It’s your decision, though. I shouldn’t have tried to silence you.”
I kissed his jaw. I don’t have to tell him if it worries you.
His hand moved from my shoulder to the back of my head, his fingers digging in and massaging my scalp under my braid. I turned to mush when he did stuff like that. Tell him whatever you’d like, darling.
I turned back to Vlad and then pointed over our back wall. “Garyn was on the roof of the house next door. Fergus and I were sitting back here. I felt her near and went looking. What she saw when she looked into our garden was—I don’t know—like an oil slick in moonlight. And it was up there.” I pointed into the sky. “Like we have a dome over our property, keeping eyes and ears out. Multiple of her vamps tried to jump over our walls. All of them were thrown back. We’re safe,” I ended on a smile.
“That’s good.” Cadmael’s solemn voice behind me made me flinch.
Vlad raised an eyebrow at me, a smirk hiding beneath his oversized mustache. “You have these gifts and yet you don’t use them. You may not have been able to hear him engage the elevator in the garage, but you should have heard him leaving it and walking into your home.”
Clive rubbed my shoulder in comfort, but he didn’t argue the point. They were right. I had to be more aware of my surroundings, even at home.
“Oh, good,” I said, my voice bereft of joy. “Cadmael’s here.” When I saw out of the corner of my eye Clive’s cheek lifting, I figured no one begrudged me my dislike of Cadmael. The man did try to kill me a few times. Granted, he’d been possessed by a psychotic fae at the time, but still. He’d also announced to a room filled with powerful vamps that my enhanced gifts made me a threat to all vampires, causing Clive and Vlad to kill everyone in the room before the information got out. So, yeah. Cadmael wasn’t a favorite of mine.
In fairness, he’d been tracking me, a werewolf-wicche hybrid, since I was born, hoping I might be the one with a unique combination of gifts that could mean final death to him. Cadmael had been a Mayan warrior in life. He was very, very old and wanted his interminable undeath to finally end. We’d struck an agreement. He’d work with Clive and Vlad to rebuild the Guild, the ruling body overseeing vampires around the world, but if he ever decided he’d had enough and wanted an exit, I’d provide one for him.
We had a truce, tentative and uncomfortable as it was. Neither cared for the other, but we’d suck it up—if for no other reason than because we knew if either broke it, it would hurt the people we cared about.
Cadmael walked out to the edge of the patio and looked up into the night sky. It had been overcast most of the day, but it was clear now. Stars sparkled above us. Fergus approached the big man. Cadmael looked down, staring at my dog. Fergus’ tail hung still as he took in the man whose stoic countenance appeared to be carved from wood. Finally, Cadmael’s hand stroked the top of Fergus’ head, causing the pup’s tail to whip back and forth.
I turned to Vlad. “Did you tell them about this morning?”
