Milo let out a long breath. "Marcus he kissed me."
Before I could even process that bomb, much less respond to it, Milo sprang from the car and slammed the door shut. He was halfway down the block before I caught up with him, and I still couldn't get control of my whirlwind thoughts. Thoughts that shifted from confusion (over Milo's frustration), to joy (over Milo finding someone who seemed interested in him, too), to concern (over all of Marcus's current troubles and the possible backlash over a human/Therian pairing during so much Pride upheaval).
It was too much to talk about on a public street, and Milo gave me a quelling glare when I fell into step next to him. We walked to Sally's in silence. I kept my gaze moving, wandering over the faces of strangers, feeling truly exposed for the first time since my resurrection. Any one of these people could have seen my face on the news. Hair covered up or not, I was still recognizable, and I didn't like it.
And even though this city was pretty big, with my luck I'd run right into Chalice Frost's parents and have no idea what to say to them.
Sally's was nearly full with the seven a.m. breakfast crowd. A harried waitress pointed us toward an empty booth near the back. We sat across from each other, mostly to mess with Reilly's head. I freaked him out a little because I'd been resurrected into a dead girl, and he'd only met Milo once before. The waitress swooped by to pour our coffee. Milo and I stared at each other from opposite sides of a grimy Formica table that had seen better days. He seemed to be daring me to bring up Marcus, but I had enough self-control and respect for Milo to not bring it up here.
Reilly's shadow fell across the table a few minutes later. In his mid-forties, with curly gray and brown hair, he looked more like an accountant than a former cop and current private investigator. He eyed his choices of seating, then gingerly slid into the booth next to me.
"Why do I feel like I just interrupted an argument?" he asked.
"You didn't," I replied. "Milo's always grumpy this time of morning."
Milo made a face at me, but said nothing. The waitress zipped by and poured more coffee. "The usual for you, hon?" she asked.
"Yes." Reilly glanced at us. "Anything for you two?"
I hadn't realized I was hungry until he asked. "Scrambled eggs and toast."
"Wheat or white?" the waitress said, committing it all to memory.
"White."
"Sausage or bacon?"
"Bacon."
"For you?" she said to Milo.
"Uh, the same."
She nodded, then walked off with her coffee pot.
"What is it with you and pancakes?" I asked Reilly.
"They're really good here," he replied. "And they remind me of happier times."
"Times when certain things were only characters in books?"
"Precisely." He measured out sugar and stirred it into his coffee.
"So are you going to make us wait for the food before you tell us why we're here?" Milo asked.
Reilly stared across the table, his sharp gaze cataloguing Milo in seconds. Something seemed to stop on the tip of his tongue, then he shook his head. "No, I won't make you wait." He pulled a business card out of his shirt pocket and handed it to me.
Alucard Communications & Development.
The logo was a simple circle around what looked like an old-fashioned pair of radio headphones. Of course, if I looked at it sideways, it could have been a smiley face with fangs. The address was south of Uptown, near the outskirts of the city. I'd never heard of it, and there was no other writing on the card except a telephone number.
"Okay," I said and slid the card over to Milo. "Am I supposed to know who these guys are?"
Reilly blew across the top of his steaming coffee. "Look harder."
Milo squinted at the text, then blinked hard. "Oh, I get it. Alucard. It's Dracula spelled backward."
"It is?" I plucked the card out of his fingers. Oh. It was. But what did that have to do with—shit. "You found the vampires."
"I did," Reilly said, then leaned against the booth with a self-satisfied smirk.
I had to admit (not out loud) that I was impressed. The vampire Families moved around the city like ghosts, appearing and disappearing with ease. Considering the artillery they were packing during the battle at Olsmill, they had money and access to some serious technology, but no one knew exactly where they came from or where they lived.
There were five ruling Families, each governed by a Father. It was the Fathers who'd joined forces with the Watchtower, then pulled their people out last month after the infection. While the occasional Blood was spotted around the city now and again, the vast majority had disappeared from the streets. And we may have just found their hiding place.
"It's a very clever front," Reilly said. "The company does actual communication consulting work, as well as running half a dozen call centers through its switchboard. From what I can tell, the company is located on three of the building's ten floors. The other seven, plus a few basement levels, house the rest of the vampires."
"How do you know all this?" Milo asked.
"Ah, but a magician never reveals his secrets, nor a PI his sources."
"And you're sure it's legit? You aren't being fed information that'll lead us into a trap?"
Reilly's jaw twitched; he actually looked annoyed. "I'd never pass along information that I suspected to be wrong. And what you choose to do with that card is, of course, your own business."
"Thank you," I said. "I'll make sure Astrid processes your claim." Code talk for she'd make sure he was paid.
"Much appreciated, Ms. Stone. Can I be of service in any other way?"
I fiddled with a creamer cup. "Personal favor?"
"Perhaps."
"If anyone comes to you asking about Chalice Frost, your personal investigation ended with the apartment in Parkside East. We've never had any of these conversations."
He shifted in the booth. "Well, technically I've never met Chalice Frost, have I?"
"No, you haven't." Something felt off all of the sudden, and I couldn't figure out why. He was being too careful with his words, and that made me nervous. "But you have met someone who looks a hell of a lot like her."
Milo stiffened. "Mentioned that fact to anyone lately?"
Reilly didn't reply, and a cold wash of dread raised goose bumps on my arms and shoulders. He didn't look guilty, exactly, just way too serious. And he hadn't denied Milo's question.
"When I was sixteen, my older sister Linda disappeared," Reilly finally said, about two seconds before I was apt to hit him. "She was a sophomore in college, smart and popular, but also prone to depression. There was no sign of a struggle, no suicide note, she simply left her dorm one night and was never seen again. Our parents went crazy with grief."
I gripped the edge of the table, afraid I'd lash out physically at him as my sense of dread and anger grew. I saw the ending to this story coming, but could do nothing to change it. The activity of the diner dimmed into the background as his words became my whole world.
"We never knew what happened to her," he continued. "To this day. Our parents died not knowing. Linda's the reason I became a cop, and she's the reason I find the answers other people can't."
Mouth dry, I swallowed hard before my tongue worked. "You sympathize with the Frosts," I said.
"Very much."
"Have you spoken to them in the last twenty-four hours?"
"I have."
I shoved the business card into my pocket. "Move. Milo and I are leaving."
"Ms. Stone—"
"Now."
"Evy," Milo said. He was looking over his shoulder, toward the front door of the diner.
My mouth fell open. A few steps inside the door, Stephen and Lori Frost were clutching each other and glancing around with eager expressions.
Chapter Five