“Like what?”
“A wizard? A kobold? A siren?”
“That’s...there’s a lot of difference between those things.”
“I wouldn’t know. I haven’t met any of them.” He gave me a hopeful look. “Have I?”
“Probably. But that doesn’t matter. Mithra is a god, and I’m sure he’ll make that plain to you when you least want him to. Don’t ever underestimate him, Ryder. Or Jake.”
“Jake?”
“Jame said Jake was there when he and Ben were attacked.”
Ryder paused with his mug halfway to his mouth, then placed it on the counter beside him. “Was he a prisoner?”
“No. Jame said he set up the meeting.”
“With whom?”
“Ben and Jame and a very old vampire.”
Ryder crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze shifted off to the wall behind me.
Spud, his mutt of a dog, trotted into the kitchen, then yawned and stretched as he wagged his tail. He gave me a sniff, I rubbed his head, then he nosed his way across the floor and folded down at Ryder’s feet with a groan.
Looked like nobody in the house had gotten any sleep last night.
“Did you know about the meeting?” I asked.
“No.”
“He’s your boss in the DoPP, right?”
“Yes. But Ordinary is my territory. He shouldn’t have done anything, made any agreements between citizens of Ordinary without contacting me.”
“He’s working with a killer, Ryder.”
“Or he was trying to broker a conversation, a meeting that went horribly out of his control.”
“I noticed his ring on his right hand. White gold or titanium?”
“Pure silver.” His gaze ticked back to me, eyebrows dipping down. “Why?”
“That ring in the picture? The man who put his hand over Sven’s mouth?”
Ryder exhaled. “You think it’s him. You think he is strong enough to kill a vampire? To beat up a werewolf?”
“No. But I think he’s working for a vampire, and maybe other creatures who are strong enough to do those things. Maybe they all wear matching rings. Maybe he’s the leader of his own splinter group.”
“Jake’s not like that.”
“Do you trust him? Trust him enough to bet Ben’s life on it?” When he didn’t answer, I went on. “I saw him on your porch a few nights ago. You were arguing. What were you fighting about?”
“He wanted me to get him inside Old Rossi’s house. Wanted to meet Old Rossi. He thought he was a vampire. Thought he was the prime.”
“Putting aside the question as to how he would have assumed that, why were you arguing with him? I thought it was your job to roll out the welcome wagon to the creatures in town.”
“I didn’t like his approach. I grew up here. I’ve known Rossi all my life. It just seemed...rude and unnecessary. Like he was some kind of criminal hiding something and we were banging down his door. Whether he was or wasn’t a vampire didn’t mean we shouldn’t treat him with basic courtesy and respect. Just like anyone else in town.”
