Every couple in the city must be craving expensive cocktails. I find him sitting by the window.
“Who did you blow to get this table?”
“Good afternoon to you, too.”
I sit down. “Thanks for the invite. I’m starving.”
“I took a chance and ordered you the three-cheese burger.”
“Good call.”
A model/waiter brings our food. We eat in semi-silence, which is one of the perks of having a best friend who can read your thoughts. Right now, I’m grappling with the realization that this cheese is going to give me gas. Once I’ve resigned myself to that, I start thinking about Lucian again.
“He asked me about you,” Derrick says.
“What do you mean?”
“Lucian. We were talking at breakfast—while you were snoring—and he asked me if something was up with you.”
I bristle slightly. “Why not just ask me himself?”
“Because you’re the Death Star deflector shield.”
“Oh,
I’m
the deflector? Have you talked to Selena yet?”
He looks around, as if CORE agents are everywhere. “For your information,” he says, lowering his voice, “I did.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“Is Miles going to be questioned?”
“Of course not. He has nothing to do with this.”
“He could have been at the scene, and you know it.”
“Actually, I know that he has no reason to hang around Burnaby Mountain in the middle of the night.”
“Actually, McBitchy, he has a life of his own. You have no idea if he was meeting with you-know-who or not.”
“He would have told me.”
“Just like you’ve told him about the time you used thought-control to get him to return that late movie? Or is that still a secret?”
“I—” He reddens slightly. “That hasn’t come up yet.”
I fold my arms. “You need to tell him. And Miles needs to be questioned. He’s a big boy. I’m sure he can handle whatever Selena’s going to ask him.”
“She said it sounded circumstantial.”
“Are you kidding? She loves circumstantial.”
He stares at his empty plate. “Why would he have been talking to you-know-who? The two literally live in separate worlds.”
“The last time I checked, spatial profilers were sort of known for prying into other worlds. Do you really know everywhere he’s been?”
“No,” he says sullenly. “Do you know everywhere that Lucian’s been?”
“Of course not.”
We’re both silent for a while.
Derrick sighs. “I need another Bellini.”
“I’m already on it.”
5
After nightfall, I head to the vampire community center. Patrick’s at home, so I know that Modred will be there by himself. Even though he saved my life once, I’m still not sure how much I can trust him. Patrick thinks he hung the moon and the stars. I’m a bit of a harder sell. When I reach the nondescript entrance, I ring the buzzer, which is new. A girl opens the door. She looks about my age, but the red flecks in her eyes suggest that she’s been around for quite a bit longer.
“I’m Tess Corday.” I incline my head, which seems only polite. “I’m here to talk with Modred.”
“He’s in a mood.”
“Would you call it a bloodlust mood, or just general snark?”
“You can see for yourself. Don’t be surprised if he won’t talk to you, though. He’s been ignoring everyone the whole night.”
She ushers me into the common area. A few vampires are watching TV, while others play cards at a makeshift table. There’s a line for the computer, as always. I head upstairs to Patrick’s office. It’s odd to think that the kid who still watches
DuckTales
also commands every vampire in the city of Vancouver. He loves me, as much as an immortal can love anything, but I also know that he’d take me apart if he had to. Sometimes, when I walk by his bedroom and hear him gently snoring, I think:
He’s yours, and he’s a killer.
Modred sits at Patrick’s desk. He’s studying paperwork and doesn’t look up when I come in. “Tess. What brings you here?”
“I have a question for
“Who did you blow to get this table?”
“Good afternoon to you, too.”
I sit down. “Thanks for the invite. I’m starving.”
“I took a chance and ordered you the three-cheese burger.”
“Good call.”
A model/waiter brings our food. We eat in semi-silence, which is one of the perks of having a best friend who can read your thoughts. Right now, I’m grappling with the realization that this cheese is going to give me gas. Once I’ve resigned myself to that, I start thinking about Lucian again.
“He asked me about you,” Derrick says.
“What do you mean?”
“Lucian. We were talking at breakfast—while you were snoring—and he asked me if something was up with you.”
I bristle slightly. “Why not just ask me himself?”
“Because you’re the Death Star deflector shield.”
“Oh,
I’m
the deflector? Have you talked to Selena yet?”
He looks around, as if CORE agents are everywhere. “For your information,” he says, lowering his voice, “I did.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“Is Miles going to be questioned?”
“Of course not. He has nothing to do with this.”
“He could have been at the scene, and you know it.”
“Actually, I know that he has no reason to hang around Burnaby Mountain in the middle of the night.”
“Actually, McBitchy, he has a life of his own. You have no idea if he was meeting with you-know-who or not.”
“He would have told me.”
“Just like you’ve told him about the time you used thought-control to get him to return that late movie? Or is that still a secret?”
“I—” He reddens slightly. “That hasn’t come up yet.”
I fold my arms. “You need to tell him. And Miles needs to be questioned. He’s a big boy. I’m sure he can handle whatever Selena’s going to ask him.”
“She said it sounded circumstantial.”
“Are you kidding? She loves circumstantial.”
He stares at his empty plate. “Why would he have been talking to you-know-who? The two literally live in separate worlds.”
“The last time I checked, spatial profilers were sort of known for prying into other worlds. Do you really know everywhere he’s been?”
“No,” he says sullenly. “Do you know everywhere that Lucian’s been?”
“Of course not.”
We’re both silent for a while.
Derrick sighs. “I need another Bellini.”
“I’m already on it.”
5
After nightfall, I head to the vampire community center. Patrick’s at home, so I know that Modred will be there by himself. Even though he saved my life once, I’m still not sure how much I can trust him. Patrick thinks he hung the moon and the stars. I’m a bit of a harder sell. When I reach the nondescript entrance, I ring the buzzer, which is new. A girl opens the door. She looks about my age, but the red flecks in her eyes suggest that she’s been around for quite a bit longer.
“I’m Tess Corday.” I incline my head, which seems only polite. “I’m here to talk with Modred.”
“He’s in a mood.”
“Would you call it a bloodlust mood, or just general snark?”
“You can see for yourself. Don’t be surprised if he won’t talk to you, though. He’s been ignoring everyone the whole night.”
She ushers me into the common area. A few vampires are watching TV, while others play cards at a makeshift table. There’s a line for the computer, as always. I head upstairs to Patrick’s office. It’s odd to think that the kid who still watches
DuckTales
also commands every vampire in the city of Vancouver. He loves me, as much as an immortal can love anything, but I also know that he’d take me apart if he had to. Sometimes, when I walk by his bedroom and hear him gently snoring, I think:
He’s yours, and he’s a killer.
Modred sits at Patrick’s desk. He’s studying paperwork and doesn’t look up when I come in. “Tess. What brings you here?”
“I have a question for
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