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“Sure.” She smiles brightly, and I can’t tell if she’s faking it.

For the next two hours, I pretend to do admin while she works through the list. Not once does she ask a question or even speak. It’s nearly four when she comes to me and hands over the notepad. Every item on it is crossed off.

“Done. I’ll see you at nine.” She walks out, trying to put a spring in her step and not quite managing it.

It’s for her own good. For mine.

It sounds like a coward searching for a reason.

When I pick her up that evening, I’ve got the AC set to icy. If the weather won’t work fast enough, maybe the van can get her thinking about home.

“AC’s broken,” I say, as she gets in. “Luca said he’d look at it next week.”

She buckles up, pauses, hand still on the belt, glances at the vents, then at me. We’ve driven this van with the windows down in near-freezing dark practically every night, and I’ve never once touched the temperature.

“Funny,” she says lightly. “Didn’t think you felt the cold at all.”

“I don’t. Doesn’t mean the thing works.”

“Mm.” She tucks her hands into her sleeves and we set off over the mountain out of town. She doesn’t push it. She knows, and she knows that I know she knows, and that’s worse than if she’d called me a liar to my face.

This is how secrets get loose. Not with fangs or some jackass losing control at the Ptarmigan. With a thermostat, and a woman who pays attention.

In Fairbanks, at a red light, she’s shivering hard enough that I can hear her teeth. I reach over and crank the dial all the way to warm. The whole time she watches my hand and says nothing.

Turns out I have a line.

At the first pickup, Ellery gets the guests loaded and asks them questions about their travels and where they’re from. When we reach the lake, she has the fire going within minutes, no struggle this time, and all I can do is sit back and watch as she runs my business for me. The point of my plan was to wear her down, make her see she’d be better off going home. Instead, she’s thriving, and every night she doesn’t quit is a night I have to move the date I’ve got her leaving by.

“I think I dropped my phone.” One of the guests comes to Ellery after everyone’s done taking photos, patting her jacket over and over. “Can you help me?”

“Of course, Judith.” She slips on her headlamp and gives one to Judith, and they set off to scour the rocky ground.

The other guests are gathered by the fire pit, enjoying some cocoa while an older fellow tells them a story about the time he met George Takei in a hotel lobby in Manila. I head down to the lakeshore, my vampire sight better than any flashlight in the dark. Nothing worse than a guest losing something valuable out here. A phone in that scrub is near impossible to find. I don’t hold out much hope.

I scan for Ellery and come up with Judith, near the van.

Where is she?

Something moves through the brush to the north. Then to the left, faster.

I go very still.

The wind shifts, and I lose her.

My head whips around, bare trunks and undergrowth, and no sign of her anywhere.

I charge off, scouring the clearing, every direction turning up nothing, and it doesn’t occur to me to stop and listen for her heart.

“Found it,” she calls, far from the safety of the camp. I glimpse her headlamp swaying with her steps as she jogs back to the fire pit.

“Thank you,” Judith gushes. “You’re a lifesaver.”

I’m halfway to her before I remember to move like a person. I make myself walk the last of it. My hands close below her shoulders, like I need proof she’s solid.

“Where the hell did you go?” And I know I’m not using the right voice when the smile slides off her face. I let her go and step back. The guests are quiet, listening to me chastise my employee. “You shouldn’t wander off. It’s a liability.”

“It’s my fault.” The woman steps up beside Ellery. “So sorry, I didn’t mean to cause a fuss.”