We didn’t get out of there until almost five. Apparently, when you witness a burglar stealing a scroll that’s wanted by an FBI agent from the house of a recently murdered man, you have to give an official statement.

Even after that, I couldn’t leave. My ride was involved in all the official police stuff, as well as any official FBI stuff, and any unofficial Torr stuff. They installed me in a chair over the entryway tile since it’d be easier to clean than the carpet. The gash in my leg wasn’t deep. Once it was bandaged, it had stopped bleeding, but I kept shedding globs of mud when I moved.

Moran was going over the details of my story with me, to see if I could remember anything else—especially what the burglar looked like. When I describe the mask, sunglasses, and hoodie, he grimaced, just like Darius had, so I guessed it wasn’t all that useful.

“Was he fit?”

“How fit could he be? I caught him.”

“I mean was he fat?”

“No.”

“And you’re sure he was standing by the last shelf?”

“I told you, he was standing between the last shelf and the desk.”

“Which way was he facing?”

“He was facing me. Then he was facing the window and retreating rapidly.” I rubbed my eyes with one hand.

Moran, bless him, put a hand on my arm. “Do you want a coffee or something?”

Oh, I did. I surely did. But I resisted the temptation and shook my head.

“You sure?” he asked.

“I want to sleep tonight.”

“That’s fair. We’re almost done here. You should be able to head home soon.”

One of the forensic team came up behind him. “We’ve finished going over the window and the crowbar.”

The detective stood up. “I’ll be right there.”

The forensic guy nodded and walked away.

“Hey, Moran,” I said.

He looked down at me.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Nah. You didn’t do too bad. Good would have been if you’d caught the guy. But you didn’t do bad.”

“Thanks.”

He wandered off.

I was left to contemplate the pale crinkles that appeared in the mud coating my hand whenever I bent my knuckles.

Darius came up to me. “Are you ready to go?”

I used the arms of my chair to lift myself to my feet. I tried to do it quickly and without wincing.

We walked all the way to the SUV in silence. We rode for the first twenty minutes in silence. Then I couldn’t keep my mouth shut any longer.

“I’m sorry I left the study.”

“It was a mistake. We’ll deal with it.”

“Did he steal anything else?”

“No.”

“Darius, I get the feeling that you’re mad at me.”

“I’m upset. You deliberately and needlessly put yourself in danger—”

“He was stealing the scroll!”

“Exactly! He was stealing the scroll, and we’re dealing with a murder case. Think about that! That means that at least one person involved in this case is willing to kill, and you went charging after him without a second thought.”

“What was I supposed to do? Let him go?”

“You were supposed to call me!”

All brain function slammed to a halt. Call…in…Darius? The guy who moved so fast, I couldn’t always see him? That might have been a good idea.

Fortunately, I had an excuse for my thoughtlessness. “You weren’t in the house.”

“I’m a goddamn vampire, Emerra. I would have heard you.”

Silence.

“You would have heard me?”

“Yes!”

“Even though you were down the street?”

“Yes!”

“Oh.”

He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, and his scowl softened. “From now on, if there’s a problem, I want you to call me. Yell for me, as loud as you can, even if you think I won’t hear you. If you know I can’t hear you, you pick up your phone and you call me! There’s no reason for you to put yourself in danger like that again.”

After a few seconds, I muttered, “I don’t have a phone.”

Darius hit his breaks, threw on his blinker, and turned the car around.

“This is ridiculous,” he hissed.

For a rather stupid moment, I wondered if he was taking me back to my gravesite. Then I realized he’d probably need more people if he was planning to re-inter me.

Still, it never hurt to make sure.

“Where are we going?”

“We’re getting you a phone. If it’s left to Jacky, it’ll be months.”

A phone!

I swallowed back my excitement. “You don’t have to do that.”

“As long as you live with us, you’re going to need a way to contact us.”

“But phones are expensive, and I don’t know how long I’m going to stay.”

The count didn’t change directions, but he did slow down.

“Are you thinking of leaving?” he asked.

My mouth gaped open and closed a few times, but silly Emerra-fish did not have an answer.

“Emerra?”

“I…don’t. That’s not…how that works,” I stammered.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that’s not how that works!”

Like anyone cared what I thought. Like I ever got to choose where I stayed. Why didn’t he get it?

“Look!” I said, “A phone is really expensive, and you don’t know how long I’m going to be around. It’s not reasonable.”

“Are you going to keep helping us on this case?”

I glanced at him. Did he even still want my help? “Yes?”

“Then we’re getting you a phone. That is nonnegotiable. If you decide to leave the mansion…” He hesitated, then said, “We can deal with that then.”

I nodded. Okay. A loan. I was getting a loaner phone. That was something I could live with.

I hoped I could get it in rose gold.

I got my rose gold phone.

Count Vasil had threatened to buy me the most expensive phone in the store if I didn’t pick one I actually wanted. When I pointed out how cheap the flip-phones were, he told me the phone was meant to be a tool, not a nostalgic joke. We wound up compromising on a nice model, and I promised myself I wouldn’t look at the price tag.

Noctis probably wouldn’t even notice it hit his bank account.

Before the sales lady handed the phone over to me, she asked if I wanted to borrow the employee’s restroom to wash the mud off my hands. Five stars for thoughtfulness.

I played with my new toy the whole drive home. It helped me to ignore the lingering wisps of guilt.

Darius wouldn’t let me see his phone—something about security—but he recited his phone number so I could add it to my contacts. He also recited Mrs. Park’s, Iset’s, and Jacky’s phone numbers.

Jacky’s made sense, but I was curious why he was so insistent on me putting in Iset’s.

“She’s the brains of the operation, remember? You call her when you have a question.”

“Ooo! That’s right.”

“You’ll need Conrad’s number,” he said.

“The wolfman has a phone?”

Darius’s tone did a good job conveying his confusion: “Yes.”

Of course the wolfman had a phone. Everyone had a phone these days.

I said, “How does it work with his…you know…paws?”

“It works just fine with his hands.”

“Did that sound rude?”

“A little.”

“Okay, but why would I need his number?”

“If I’m ever out of town and you need help, you call him. Conrad Bauer. B-a-u-e-r.”

I obediently, if reluctantly, started creating a new contact. As I typed, I said, “If I’m in trouble, would he even be able to help? It’s not like he goes out in public much.”

Darius thought about that for a minute.

He moved his hand away from his face to say, “It’s true Conrad generally has to stay hidden, but that wouldn’t stop him from helping someone if they needed it.”

“So he’s your back-up muscle?”

“He’s a lycanthrope. I’m the backup muscle. He’s the real muscle.”

“Why don’t I just call Jacky?”

Darius sighed. “Jack Noctis isn’t all that good at answering his phone.”

“You can’t call death? Death only calls for you?”

“You can’t call death, he leaves his phone on silent half the time.”

“Do you think someone told Apple I was dead?”

“I doubt it. Why?”

“If I can sign into my old account, I can get all my music back.”

I was busy trying to remember my password, so it took me a second to realize that Darius had fallen suspiciously silent.

“Something on your mind, Count?”

He turned up the road toward the mansion. “Emerra, is there anyone from your old life that you’d want to contact?”

“Huh?”

“If you start using your old accounts, will someone notice?”

“Pfff. Not likely. I got the account when I was under thirteen—”

“How?”

“Uhhhhhh. I borrowed a different birth year? Anyway, all I bought was music, and I only used gift cards, so the only person that’s going to get an email is me.”

“And how old does your email think you are?”

“Are you going to tell me you don’t lie about your age?”

“Touché.” He glanced at me. “What about people you might want to contact?”

“No,” I said. “Not really.”

Careless voice. Nose pointed at phone. Could he take the hint?

He turned his eyes back to the road.

It seemed he could. Either that, or he was the kind to naturally mind his own business.

What a good vampire.

When we got to the house, I tried to go in through the kitchen’s dining nook, but my attempt was thwarted.

“Stop!” Igor roared.

I halted with my first boot hovering over the floor.

“If you take one step in this kitchen with those filthy shoes, I’ll rip your feet off your body and send them through the wash.”

“Um.” I looked to Darius for help.

The count opened the other half of the French doors and waltzed in like the mansion wasn’t guarded by a rabid, half-mad chef.

“Good evening, Igor.”

“Good evening, Vasil.”

“Um!” I said louder.

“What’s for dinner?” Darius asked.

“I thought some sweet southern cornbread and chili would go well with the weather,” Igor said.

“You mean the cold weather?” I said. “The freezing autumn weather I’m still standing in?”

Either Darius didn’t hear me—unlikely, since he had that whole “vampire hearing thing” going on—or he chose not to respond. “That sounds delightful.”

“So, what? I just wait out here?” I asked.

One of Igor’s eyes revolved until it was gazing in my direction. It took so long, I wondered if it’s roving was random.

“Why not? You seem to like the outdoors, seeing as you’ve covered yourself in it.”

“Igor, I didn’t mean to get all muddy!”

“If cleanliness is next to godliness, then you’re an abomination.”

I threw my hands up. Sure! Why not! I was an abomination. At least I had a phone to keep myself entertained with.

Olivia came in the room. “What’s all the yelling—”

She froze when she saw me.

It suddenly felt a lot colder.

“What…did…you do…to my clothes?”

I swallowed. “I’m sorry, Olivia.”

“Is that a tear? Did you rip my jeans?”

“It was an accident. I promise I’ll clean them up.”

“Clean them up? Look at them! You might as well throw them away! What did you think you were doing?”

“I was chasing someone!”

Her eyes narrowed.

I went on, “Someone was stealing the scroll, and I chased after them.”

“Did you stop them?”

There was a short silence.

“No,” I muttered. “They got away.”

“Huh. Glad to know it was worth it.” She turned and left.

There was a longer silence this time. I can’t tell you what Darius or Igor were doing. I was staring at the mud on my—Olivia’s boots and trying not to cry.

“Go in through the wash room,” Igor said. “Take off any clothes you can and try to brush off as much mud as possible. After you’ve changed into something else, go back through the house and clean up. Neither Mrs. Park nor I need any extra work.”

I shut the door. There was a small bench next to me, so I sat down and stared up at the stars. I only got up the shivering was bad enough it made my muscles ache.

I found the laundry room on my second try and followed Igor’s directions the best I could. When I was done, I went back to the laundry room with my pile of dirty clothes. Thankfully, there was a modern washing machine and dryer tucked away in the side room. I wouldn’t have to scrub out the mud using the antique porcelain basin.

Once the laundry was started, I wandered to the kitchen door and stood there until one of Igor’s eyes drifted my direction. I motioned to myself, presenting the outfit for inspection.

“You may come in,” he said.

I sat down at one of the tall stools near the kitchen island.

“Did you put everything away?” he asked.

“Yes, Igor. Vacuum, broom, Swiffer. The rags are being washed with my clothes.”

“You missed dinner.”

So I had. I didn’t care. I wasn’t hungry. But I wasn’t sure how Igor would like that line, so I shrugged.

“You should eat.”

I shook my head.

“I took the liberty of slathering your cornbread with honey butter—roughly in proportion to the gross amounts of sugar I’ve seen you put in your coffee.”

Wow. That would require a lot of honey butter.

A smile crept over my face. “Let me see.”

He pulled the plate from the oven and put it in front of me.

I laughed. “You should have put it in a bowl! That cornbread is swimming.”

He passed me a fork. “You know you won’t be able to taste anything but the sugar.”

“You make that sound like a bad thing.” I dug into the first gooey bite.

Igor threw the dish towel over his hunched shoulder and leaned back on the counter. “How did you know where the cleaning supplies were?”

I finished chewing before I answered. He might have been right about me being an abomination, but I didn’t have to give him any more proof. “It’s always somewhere near the laundry room. At least the wet-stuff. I was lucky the vacuum was stored with it.” I hurried to add, “If I hadn’t found it, I would have come and asked—”

He waved away my concern. “But you did find it. Without asking for help.”

I had already taken my next bite, so I was spared the need to answer.

He shifted the towel to his other shoulder and went back to doing the dishes.

A few minutes later, all that was left on my plate was an empty lake of honey butter.

“Thank you for the food, Igor. It was really good.”

“Humph. Are you going to claim you could taste it?”

“Best pile of sugar I’ve ever had.”

He rolled the eye that was closest to me.

“Hey,” I said, “are there any sewing supplies in the house?”

“Are you planning on sewing up those jeans you tore?”

“Yeah.”

“Olivia won’t thank you.”

I played with the rim of my plate. “Yeah, well, at this point it doesn’t really matter if she likes it. I’m going to need a change of pants.”

After a second, Igor said, “Sewing isn’t my domain. I don’t know if anyone sews anymore.”

“I know how to sew.”

“By hand?”

I squirmed. “That’s the only way I know how to sew.”

“Talk to Iset. She’d know if we’re storing any supplies in the house. She’s probably—”

“In the library?” I said, standing up.

“With Olivia,” Igor finished.

That slowed me down.

He added, “They’re usually doing magic lessons around this time.”

“I didn’t know that Iset was a witch,” I said carefully.

“She isn’t. She’s a scholar.”

As I dawdled toward the library, I tried to decide if I was willing to ask for sewing supplies in front of Olivia. If all she did was fail to thank me, I would consider myself lucky. She had been pissed.

The best option I could come up with was to sneak up to the library and listen to see if Olivia was in there. If she was, I could make myself scarce and try again later.

I slunk down the hall and pressed my back to the wall, next to one of the arches.

Just my luck, the witch was there.

I heard her voice: “If she’s going to go, then she should just go. Why is she hanging around if she doesn’t want to be here?”

Going? I thought. Who’s going?

Iset said, “What makes you think she doesn’t want to be here?”

“Darius said she was thinking of leaving.”

“Darius said she might be thinking of leaving,” Iset said, “and he was talking to me at the time.”

“I was in the room. I wasn’t eavesdropping.”

My stomach torqued itself into a knot. Oh, geez. They were talking about me. The abomination that was currently eavesdropping.

“Whether she leaves or not is entirely up to her,” Iset said, “but she’s here as an honored guest—”

“Honored? What has she done that deserves any honor?”

Okay. I kind of agreed with Olivia on that one, even if I didn’t like the scorn in her voice.

“If you can’t be kind to her, you need to at least be civil.”

“I have been civil.”

Debatable. But I did ruin her jeans.

I heard Iset sigh. “Olivia, let’s say, for the sake of argument, that you decide you hate Emerra enough you’re going to leave. You kick yourself out of this house. Where would you go?”

There was a pause.

“Back to your parents, maybe?” Iset prompted. “Ah, but you don’t like that idea. What about your grandmother? Or your sister? Would they take you?”

“Of course they would,” Olivia snapped.

“And maybe one of the seven other witches that asked you to be their apprentice? Do you think one of them might make room for you? Oh, well. If they’ve already chosen other candidates, I’ll bet it wouldn’t take long to find another half dozen that would give up their cauldrons to have you.”

“Are you saying I should leave and go somewhere else?”

“Not at all. This was only for the sake of argument, remember? But what if Jacky listened to all your complaining and decided to kick Emerra out—where would she go?”

After waiting for an answer that never came, Iset went on, “I know you resent having her here, but perhaps someone with your advantages could spare a little compassion and not hope to rob someone else of everything they have.” There was a tapping noise. “Let’s get back to the third circle.”

I didn’t hear anything after that. I ran.