It’s dusty as shit down here and I’m hot and sweaty and dirty by this point. More than a little irritable and ready to be done, too. The case is heavier than I expect and I almost put my back out, trying to yank it clear of the bed with one hand.
When I flick the latches and pull open the lid, I let out a relieved grunt.
The case is stacked with books. Most of them look ancient. They’re leather bound and have pages that look like they could disintegrate in your hands. And he’s got them all shoved together, not even in neat piles. The ghost librarian would have a shit fit if she saw the state of this.
I grab my backpack and start shoving as many as I can inside. There are way too many for me to carry and I’m considering calling Zeph to grab the entire case when I hear something that has me freezing.
—a heartbeat. It’s faint and fast.
Someone’s in the house, downstairs.
Shit. I need to get the hell out of here. A surge of adrenaline goes through me and, cursing to myself, I shove another handful of books into my bag. I push the suitcase back under the bed and get to my feet, wincing as I heft the bag onto my back. I then summon my glamor magic, hoping to slide by unnoticed as I tiptoe down the stairs and back to the bathroom with the open window.
I dump the backpack outside first before hefting myself up onto the toilet and then the windowsill. It’s not until I’m halfwayoutside that I consider the speed of the heartbeat. Dante’s is about half as slow as a non-vamp.
Shit. There’s a strong chance I’m making a panicked exit over nothing.
I can’t use my glamor and my blood magic simultaneously. Not while I’m also trying to stretch the nulling magic as far as I can to stop Ember from creeping into our heads. Keeping up the mental shield is exhausting, and it means I’m not able to scan the house again. But as I slide out the window, ass first, two green eyes blink at me from the bathroom doorway.
The cat.
Dammit... maybe I should have kept my nerve. I might even have had time to grab another few books, or I could have started to flick through some of them.
But, it turns out that maybe the cat is my guardian angel.
I’m ducking behind the rose bushes and making my way around to the front of the house when my cell phone buzzes. It’s Zeph, telling me the homeowner is back earlier than expected. Hefting the bag more securely onto my shoulders, I fan the front of my shirt. I’m sweaty. Dusty as hell. With a bag full of old books.
But at least I’m safe.
Although, something tells me this might not be our last visit to this place that’s part porn palace and part cat mansion. There have to be another fifty books upstairs and they’re calling my name, begging me to come back and check their contents.
I glide past Dante and Zeph, who look about as inconspicuous as a pack of wolves at a choir practice, along with what must be Victor Blackthorn, as he makes his way to his front door. I keep going until I’m out of view of the street and then wait for the two of them to catch up.
“All go okay?” Dante asks low in my ear.
Dumping the heavy bag onto the ground, I let out a groan at the ache in my shoulder. It matches the ache in my head that I’ve had for days now. Turns out that keeping a telepath out of all three of our heads is a real drain on my energy.
“It went fine,” I tell them, then quickly fill them in on the details. Zeph picks up the backpack and slings it over his shoulder like it weighs nothing and I roll my eyes at myself for not taking him with me. I bet he could have carted that suitcase out of there without even breaking a sweat.
“He has a ton of books in his bedroom. Let’s just hope that one of them has something useful in it.”
Dante hums softly. “As a people, we have a shocking number of accounts of massacres, but we are remarkably tight-lipped about how to cause a true death in a powerful vampire. Not exactly surprising since we’re such a long-lived species, but it’s distinctly unhelpful when you have an overpowered, megalomaniacal vampire hoping to take over the city.”
Zeph snorts and I can tell he’s about to make an asshole comment, so I glare at him. I must have magic Medusa powers today, because he snaps his mouth closed again and rubs the back of his neck.
The fact these two haven’t maimed each other yet is a minor miracle. Especially when the quarters we’ve been keeping in the library have been so cramped, we’ve basically been sitting on top of each other for twelve hours straight each day.
Checking my phone, I re-read the message from one of my contacts. She used to be the one that had the weirdest requests from customers, and I’d do my best to track them down from the dodgiest corners of the city. And right now, I’m the customer with the weird request. It feels strange to be on the other side; the person holding the cash with someone else going out of their way to fulfill what I’ve asked for.
“Before we head home, there’s a store I want to head to before it closes,” I say.
“Whatever you need, Little Witch,” Zeph says.
“I, er, asked her if she had anything that could be used if we had a telepathic stalker,” I explain. “As much as I’d like to say, the nulling shield is working, but I’m not sure I’m going to be able to keep it going all day for much longer. I want to see if there’s, like, a hat we can put on that should be able to shield our thoughts.”
“Tin foil hat,” Zeph mutters and I elbow him in the gut.
Dante’s eyebrows shoot up. “And someone has tracked down one of these magical hats?”
