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Ivan groaned, though I wasn’t sure whether it was in relief or pain. I dragged a kitchen chair up to them both and climbed up.

“There’s an ambulance coming. It should only be a few minutes.”

“Good,” Ben muttered. “But what about the vamp who did this?”

“Lost him.”

“Shit.”

“Putting it politely, yes.”

I raised the knife and began to cut. The blade was razor sharp, and sliced through the thickly twined layers of rope with little effort. Ivan didn’t say anything, and his gaze seemed a little unfocused. Maybe shock was starting to set in, either through blood loss or the sheer trauma of what he’d been through. His body had been shredded front and back, the rents jagged and uneven. No knife had caused them, that’s for sure.

The last of the rope strands gave way. Ben carried his friend over to the ratty-looking sofa and gently put him down. Ivan hissed, his expression contorting with pain.

“Sorry, mate,” Ben said, then looked at me. “You think he’s going into shock?”

“Yeah.” I glanced at my watch. “The ambulance shouldn’t be far, but maybe we should give him some water to sip. If it’s the blood loss causing the shock, we need to replace some of his fluids.”

“I’ll go get some.” He rose and walked past me, smelling of blood and anger.

I knelt down in front of Ivan. He didn’t react, so I touched his swollen fingers. He jumped, and his gaze swung to mine, momentarily filled with fear before he realized who it was and that he was still safe.

“I need to know what happened,” I said softly.

He licked his lips and swallowed heavily. “He came in about an hour ago. Said he needed to talk.”

“So you know him?”

He shook his head. “But he looked vaguely familiar, and Vinny had cleared him, so I thought he’d be fine.”

I frowned. “Who’s Vinny?”

“The head of the vampire group living here,” Ben said, as he came back into the room. He squatted down beside me, the heat of him rolling over me, thick with the scent of barely controlled anger. He dribbled some water onto Ivan’s lips, then looked at me. “Ivan’s undergone the blood ceremony to become a vampire, which is why he’s living here with Vinny and the vamps.”

Confusion swirled through me. “Taking the ceremony doesn’t mean he’s going to die straightaway. Not unless he intends suicide.”

And I very much doubt that had been his intent here. He wouldn’t have called Ben for help, if that were the case.

“He’s got cancer. Inoperable. He’s been given a year to live, at most.”

“Ah.” At least that explained his living arrangements. It made sense to be close to his maker if he went sooner than expected. I glanced at Ivan. “So Vinny might know who the vampire is?”

He closed his eyes, took a shuddery breath, then whispered, “I don’t know. But there was no intervention.”

And that was the cruncher.

The majority of vamps tended to be protective of their young—or soon-to-be young—at least until they were old enough to control the bloodlust and know the tricks of the trade, so to speak. They had to be, because the Directorate held them accountable for their young’s actions. It was only once they had a handle on being a vampire that the young were let loose into the big wide world. Vampires tended to be territorial, and two fully grown vamps generally couldn’t live together. Which made what was going on here a whole lot stranger. They simply couldn’t be all young ones. No vampire alive could control this many young.

Or so I’d thought.

Ben gave Ivan a few more drops of water. I waited until he’d swallowed, then asked, “Why did you invite him over the threshold if you didn’t know him?”

“Because he went through Vinny. I thought he was okay.”

Seems Vinny had a few answers to provide. And maybe it was Vinny, rather than my badge, that had kept the younger vamps at bay. Which meant, given the number of vampires living in this old building, he had to be fairly powerful.

But it was interesting that our rogue vamp had known enough about this building and its occupants to go through the protocol. Unlike me, who’d just charged in.

Of course, that’s what we guardians were supposed to do. Charge into places the dead feared to tread. Lucky us.

“Has Vinny got a last name?”

“Castillo.”

Hopefully, Sal hadn’t become bored by proceedings and was now doing a check to see what we had on one Vincent Castillo.

“Did your attacker say what he wanted to talk about?”

“No, he just started attacking, telling me he’d make me pay for hurting him.”

I raised my eyebrows. “So you do know him?”

“No. He was fucking crazy. I’ve never seen him before in my life, I swear.”

I could sense no lie in his words, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t. I mean, why would a vamp go to so much trouble to get in here just to attack a complete stranger?

“So if he attacked you straightaway, when did you get the chance to call Ben?”

He closed his eyes. “I didn’t.”

I looked at Ben, who said, “Maybe the shock and blood loss is affecting his memory.”

Maybe. And maybe he was telling the truth and something strange was going on.

Footsteps echoed down the hall, and as I looked toward the doorway, a voice said, “Ambulance officers. Who needs the help?”

“Down here,” I shouted.

The footsteps drew closer, and a second later two men appeared. “Well, that was a hairy experience,” the first man said. “Never been in a place where so many vamps haunted the shadows.” He glanced at Ivan and clicked his tongue. “The vamps do this?”

“No. They just didn’t stop it.”

“Vamps tend to be like that,” he said philosophically. “It’s all about their needs, not others’.”

And that, I thought, as I rose to get out of his way, was the best summation I’d heard of vamps in quite a while.

I followed Ben across the living room. He crossed his bare arms, his blue T-shirt straining across his chest as he leaned a shoulder against the wall. He must have left the bike leathers at home in his haste to get here, but the T and the jeans were a damn fine look.

I tried to concentrate on the business at hand. “Does Ivan work at Nonpareil as well?”

Ben shook his head. In the bright living room light, his blue eyes looked almost sapphire with the anger that still overwhelmed his scent. “He’s an investment advisor.”

“Then how did you two meet?”

“We go to the same gym, and became friends a few years ago.” He hesitated. “Why?”

“Because I think it’s odd that two people you know have now been attacked in an identical way.”

He frowned. “Why would either of the attacks be related, let alone related to me?”

“Well, you’d have to tell me. Why would someone want to get back at you by attacking your friends? Because one thing I’m sure of is the fact that they’re related.”

His frown deepened. “Impossible. I mean, Ivan and Denny didn’t even know each other. And why do you think it was the same killer going after them both?”

“Because I recognized the vampire’s scent. The vampire who was in Denny’s bedroom—and who might well have killed him—is the same vampire responsible for stringing Ivan up by his wrists and slicing him open.”

Chapter 4

He stared at me for a moment, his expression neutral. But his blue eyes were even darker than before, and the sense of his anger increased. This time, it was aimed at me.

“Are you sure?” he said eventually, and the effort of control was evident in the burly, thick notes invading his rich tones.

“Yes.”

“Then why in the hell did you let him go?” He said it with such force that it blew the sweaty strands of hair away from my face and had the ambulance guys looking around sharply.

I waved a hand to tell them it was okay, and met Ben’s anger head-on. “Because he was a fucking vampire who jumped out the window and then probably flew away. I’m many things, Ben, but I haven’t quite learned to fly yet.”