Janine saw my sick look, and misunderstanding it, she rushed to say, “Oh, don’t worry, Rachel. The murderer isn’t after us. Really. Dr. Anders said to be careful, but he’s only going for experienced witches.”
“Yeah,” I said, wondering if I would be considered experienced or not. “I guess.”
The conversations around us ceased as Dr. Anders’s voice shrilled from behind the door, “I don’t know who’s killing my students. I’ve been to too many funerals this month to listen to your foul accusations. And I’ll sue you from here back to the Turn if you slander my name!”
Janine looked alarmed as she picked up her book and held it to her chest. The students in the hallway shifted from foot to foot and exchanged uneasy looks. From my earring Jenks whispered, “So much for keeping Dr. Anders in the dark about her possible suspect status.” I nodded, wondering if Edden would let me drop the class now. “It’s Denon in there with her,” Jenks added, and I took a quick breath.
“What?”
“I can smell Denon,” he reiterated. “He’s in there with Dr. Anders.”
Denon? I thought, wondering what my old boss was doing out from behind his desk.
There was a soft murmur, followed by a loud pop. Everyone in the hall but Jenks and me jumped. Janine reached up and touched her ear as if she had just been knocked a good one. “Didn’t you feel that?” she asked me, and I shook my head. “She just set a circle without drawing a real one first.”
I eyed the door along with everyone else. I didn’t know you could set a circle without drawing it. I also didn’t like that everybody but Jenks and I had been able to tell she had done it. Feeling as if I was in over my head, I picked my bag up.
The low rumble of my old boss’s voice pulled a chill from me. Denon was a living vamp, like Ivy. But he was low-blood, rather than high, having been born a human and infected with the vamp virus later by one of the true undead. And where Ivy had political power because she’d been born a vamp and thus was guaranteed to join the undead even if she should die alone with every drop of blood in her, Denon would always be second-class, having to trust that someone would bother to finish turning him after he died.
“Get out of my room,” Dr. Anders demanded. “Before I file harassment charges.”
The students all shifted nervously. I wasn’t surprised when the frosted glass darkened with a shape behind it. I stiffened with the rest when the door opened and Denon walked out. The man almost had to turn sideways to clear the door frame.
I still maintained my belief that Denon had been a boulder in a previous life—a smooth, river-worn boulder massing about a ton maybe? Being low-blood and having only human strength, he had to work hard to keep up with his dead brethren. The results were a trim waist and oodles of bunching muscles. They pulled at his white dress shirt as he sauntered into the hallway. The stark cotton stood in sharp contrast with his complexion, drawing my eye and holding it—just as he wanted.
The class fell back as he eased past. A cold presence seemed to flow out of the room and pool about him, the remnants of the aura he had probably pulled on Dr. Anders. A confident, dominating smile curved over him as his eyes fastened on me.
“Uh, Rachel?” Jenks muttered as he flitted to Janine. “I’ll see you inside, okay?”
I said nothing, suddenly feeling too thin and vulnerable.
“I’ll save you a seat,” Janine said, but I didn’t look from my old boss. There was a soft rustle as the hallway emptied.
I had been scared of the man, and I was ready and willing to be scared of him now, but something had changed. Though still moving with the grace of a predator, the ageless look he once carried was gone. The hungry cast in his eye, which he didn’t bother to hide, told me he was still a practicing vamp, but I was guessing he had lost favor and was no longer tasting the undead, though they were probably still feeding upon him.
“Morgan,” he said, his words seeming to backwash against the brick wall behind me and give me a shove forward. His voice was just like him, practiced, powerful, and full of a heavy promise. “I heard you were whoring for the FIB. Or are we just bettering ourselves?”
“Hello, Mr. Denon,” I said, not dropping his pupil-black eyes. “You get bumped down to runner?” The hungry lust in his eyes faltered into anger, and I added, “Looks like you’re doing the runs you gave me. Rescuing familiars out of trees? Checking for valid licenses? How are those homeless bridge trolls doing, anyway?”
Denon shifted forward, his eyes intent and his muscles tense. My face went cold, and I found my back against the wall. The sun streaming in from the distant walkway seemed to dim. Like a kaleidoscope, it swirled to look twice as far away as it was. My heart leapt, then settled back into its usual pace. He was trying to pull an aura, but I knew he couldn’t do it without me giving him the fear to feed it. I wouldn’t be afraid.
“Cut the crap, Denon,” I said boldly, my stomach knotting. “I live with a vamp who could eat you for breakfast. Save the aura for someone who cares.”
Still, he pressed close until he was the only thing I could see. I had to look up, and it ticked me off. His breath was warm, and I could smell the tang of blood on it. My pulse pounded, and I hated that he knew I was afraid of him still.
“Anyone here but you and me?” he said, his voice as smooth as chocolate milk.
Hand moving in a slow, controlled motion, I reached for the grip of my splat gun. The brick scraped my knuckles, but as my fingers touched the handle, my confidence raced back. “Just you, me, and my splat gun. Touch me, and I’ll drop you.” I smiled right back at him. “What do you suppose I put in my splat balls? Might be kind of hard to explain why someone from the I.S. had to come out here and hose you off with saltwater, huh? I’d say that would be good for a laugh for at least a year.” I watched his eyes shift to hate.
“Back up,” I said clearly. “If I pull it, I use it.”
He backed up. “Walk away from this, Morgan,” he threatened. “This is my run.”
“That explains why the I.S. is spinning its wheels. Maybe you should go back to ticketing parked cars and let a professional take care of it.”
His breath hissed out, and I found strength in his anger. Ivy was right. There was fear in the back of his soul. Fear that someday the undead vampires that fed on him would lose control and kill him. Fear that they wouldn’t bring him back as one of their brothers.
He should be afraid.
“This is an I.S. matter,” he said. “Interfere, and I’ll have you down in lockup.” He smiled, flashing me his human teeth. “If you thought being in Kalamack’s cage was bad, wait until you see mine.”
My confidence cracked. The I.S. knew about that? “Don’t get your falsies in a twist,” I said snidely. “I’m here on a missing person, not your murders.”
“Missing person,” he mocked. “That’s a good story. I’d stick with it. Try to keep your tag alive this time.” He gave me a final glance before he started down the hallway to the sun and the distant sound of the commissary. “You won’t be Tamwood’s pet forever,” he said, not turning around. “Then, I’m coming for you.”
“Yeah, whatever,” I said even as a sliver of my old fear tried to surface. I quashed it as I pulled my hand away from the small of my back. I wasn’t Ivy’s pet, though living with her gave me a heap of protection from Cincinnati’s vamp population. She wasn’t in a position of power, but as the last living member of the Tamwood family, she had a leader-in-waiting status honored by wise vamps both living and dead.
I took a deep breath to try to dispel the weakness in my knees. Great. Now I had to go into class after they had probably started.
Thinking my day couldn’t possibly get any worse, I gathered myself and walked into the room lit brightly from