said.
Sierra noticed Pat didn’t say the same thing. Instead he stood and took Tanya by the arm. “Time for us to leave.”
The other woman went with him, clutching her autographed bookmark and leaving Sierra wondering what else she’d learn about her new surroundings.
* * *
Ronan sat across from Damon at a table in the All Nighter Bar and Grill. He’d spent the past fifteen minutes complaining about Sierra while Damon remained quiet.
“You could always kill her,” Damon told Ronan.
“I thought killing humans was frowned upon here.”
“It is.”
“Then why suggest it? Was it some kind of weird test?” Ronan demanded. “Because I was indentured?”
“No. If I thought you were dangerous I wouldn’t have approved your staying.”
“Then why did you say that about killing Sierra if you weren’t trying to trip me up?”
Damon shrugged. “It’s what I do.”
“You mean you aggravate the hell out of people?” Ronan said.
“People and vampires.”
“And witches,” Ronan added. “So I’ve heard.”
Damon leaned forward. “What did you hear? What did Zoe tell you?”
“Nothing.”
“So it was her grandmother.”
“No, it was her cat,” Ronan said.
“Bella is a blabbermouth.”
“She had a nightmare last night,” Ronan said abruptly.
“Bella?”
“Sierra. She was terrified. I should have used that fear to make her leave but instead I comforted her.”
“Afraid you’re going soft?” Damon mocked.
“I’ve killed before,” Ronan said.
“So have I,” Damon said.
“You’re a Demon Hunter. You kill demons. It’s not the same.”
“We’re all bound by the reality of our circumstances,” Damon said.
“Some of us are bound by more than that.” Ronan’s voice was flat.
“Yeah, some of us are,” Damon agreed.
Looking down, Ronan realized he was clenching his fists. He took a deep breath and relaxed his fingers.
“What have you told Sierra about your claim to the house?” Damon asked.
“That my family has a prior claim to the property,” Ronan replied. “But I could hardly tell her that it went back over a hundred years.”
“I could have Neville forge some paperwork for you that would back up your claim. We’d have to come up with another story to update yours.”
“Who is Neville?”
“He’s our resident computer geek,” Damon said.
“Computer genius,” Neville corrected him as he joined them.
Ronan instantly picked up on the fact that Neville was a vampire. The glasses held together with duct tape did give him a nerdy appearance.
“I’m also a financial guru,” Neville said.
“What’s got you so full of yourself?” Damon demanded.
“This.” Neville waved a piece of paper at them. “It indicates they didn’t do a thorough title search when the property in question was sold.”
“Is it real?” Damon asked.
“Of course not,” Neville said. “But it looks real enough to gain us some time. Note that I did this before you suggested I come up with another story regarding ownership of the house.”
“Once Sierra’s lawyer comes back won’t he be able to tell this is a fake?” Damon said.
“It was my understanding that he won’t return for two weeks,” Neville said.
Which was all the time Ronan needed. Actually it was longer than he needed. He was on a deadline here with Voz. He only had a limited amount of time to save his sister’s soul. As in mere days.
Damon studied the forged paper. “This will do.”
“Are you a lawyer?” Ronan asked.
“I went to law school. Then I went to war. The American Civil War.”
“That’s before my time,” Ronan said.
“Same here,” Neville said. “I was turned in the eighties when I accused my stockbroker boss of being a greedy bloodsucker. My bad. He was a vampire and he turned me.”
Ronan didn’t talk about when or how he was turned. It wasn’t a topic of conversation he enjoyed, even with other vampires. In fact, he hated the memories.
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