“And this is the last-resort contact that you didn’t want to talk to?”

He pondered that for a moment before nodding. “I wanted to avoid talking to him, if possible, but he’s our best bet for finding out what Laura’s up to.”

“Why did you want to avoid him? Aside from the obvious dead-guy reason.”

“Because he’s expensive.”

“I didn’t bring my checkbook.” Not that I could write a check even if I did. Anything more expensive than a fast-food meal would probably overdraw my account right about now. My financial future was looking pretty bleak too, considering that with Mac gone I was out of a job.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m buying this round.” Lex flashed me a reassuring smile and I rolled my eyes.

“Right then. So, what really happened to your pickup truck? You loved that thing.”

“Dragon,” he answered.

“Get out. Serious?”

“Serious. It didn’t go home quietly, totaled the pickup. I’m gettin’ used to this one though. Not bad, for an SUV.”

“Glad the dragon I met was polite. Though he did say he wasn’t going to eat me since he only eats virgins.” I smiled dryly, and Lex laughed. “I’m still not sure why I let myself get dragged into this mess.”

“You saw what needed to be done, and you did it. You’re a tough one, Cat. You’ll get through this.” Lex squeezed my hand, and I smiled.

“At least one of us has faith in me. Hey, how’s Nick doing?”

Though Nick was a New York guardian, he was one of Lex’s closest friends. They were about the same age and had the same tastes in movies, music, and all-black clothing, but Nick had a rowdier sense of humor than Lex did. Lex sighed, his expression somber as the playful light disappeared from his eyes.

“Forgot you hadn’t heard about that. Nick was killed in the line of duty, ’bout a year ago now.”

“What? What happened?”

His fingers tapped a tense beat on the steering wheel as he considered his answer. “You familiar with Poison Apples, the band?”

“Yeah, a little bit.” They were a rock band, and I lean toward folksy chick music, but I’d heard of them. I remembered something about them in the news a while back, but because I wasn’t a fan I hadn’t paid attention.

“They’re an all-magician band, so they have a unique fan base. Ivy-she’s the lead singer-picked up a vampire as a stalker, real sick psycho, and Nick was assigned to protect her. Well, you know how girl-crazy he was. He got too wrapped up in her, and it made him sloppy. Got him killed. The vamp tore the girl’s throat out and then took Nick out, but he’d done enough damage to it that the bastard died too.” He spoke in a flat, tired tone that hinted he’d told the story too many times. Lex stared straight ahead, concentrating on the road, and there was a tightness around his eyes. I knew that expression all too well. It takes a lot of practice and control to pretend to be nonchalant about a loved one’s murder.

“Oh, Lex. I’m so sorry.” I rubbed my throat lightly with my free hand, thinking of my mother. It’s a horrible way to die. Lex spotted the gesture and shook his head.

“She lived, Ivy. They say she probably won’t sing again though. You know, Cat…” he started. Continuing to drum his fingers on the steering wheel, Lex looked as though he were considering his words carefully. “Never mind. Don’t worry about it, we’re almost there.”

The SUV turned off the street we had been driving on and bumped down a less-than-pristine stretch of paved road, something that immediately caught my attention. A city girl is always suspicious when surrounded by trees, and it looked as though we were entering a forest preserve. We continued forward until the street behind us disappeared, and we rounded a bend to emerge into a clearing, approaching a huge, lonely house. It was in a sad state of disrepair-the faded paint peeled, the shutters hung from their hinges, dirt coated the stairs and porch. It looked like a haunted house from a bad horror film, and probably drew amateur ghost hunters from all over the area. All the scene needed was a creepy old family graveyard in the back, but thankfully there was none to be seen. Strangely out of place, an expensive black sedan was parked next to the building, likely miserable without a garage to hide in.

“What, does he have some sort of religious objection to hiring a groundskeeper?” I blinked as we pulled up to the front steps.

“Nope. Just likes to keep the neighbors at bay.”

“Yeah I imagine it works on salesmen too.” I hopped out of the car and walked toward the house, hesitating at the stairs as an image of my foot crashing through rotted wood danced through my head. For a moment Lex paused next to me, studying the sedan, and then he shrugged.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” Lex said, taking my arm and leading up the steps before I could protest. When we reached the front door he opened it without knocking. I followed, feeling awkward at entering without an invitation. The interior of the place wasn’t any more appealing than the outside. Cobwebs hung thick on the doorways, and faint sunlight filtered through windows that had been boarded up from the inside.

“Geez, who’s his decorator? Béla Lugosi?” I wrinkled my nose. Lex chuckled as he led me down a hallway into what might have once been a kitchen. Opening a door, he began to disappear down a flight of stairs into the darkness of what had to be the basement. The scent wafted up toward me on a slight draft, the slight ozone smell that follows when a match refuses to be extinguished.

“Oh hell no.” I stopped, shaking my head emphatically. “I’ve seen this movie. There’s no way I’m going down those stairs.”

“C’mon, Cat.” Lex paused and turned around, holding his hand out to me.

“No. I’ll wait in the car, thank you.”

Sighing, he came back up the stairs and stood in front of me. “I’ll throw you over my shoulder if I have to, but I’d rather not. Won’t make a good impression on Simon, and you want to make a good impression on him.”

I snorted. “The only impression I want to make on a vamp involves a sword.”

“Do you trust me?”

Now there was a loaded question. Before last night I would’ve answered with an immediate no, but now… “Yes,” I grudgingly admitted.

He held out his hand again and I took it, letting him guide me down into what my instincts were screaming at me was certain danger. It reeked of vampire magic-the place was completely saturated in it like nothing I’d ever experienced before. Then again I’d never set foot into a lair before. I’m not that stupid. And yet here I was, being led into the proverbial lion’s den. I had to wonder if my I.Q. had dropped dramatically in the past few days.

When we reached the bottom of the stairs, we stood in the near total darkness. The only light in the room shone down from the open door at the top of the stairs. It was a tiny, cramped space, the kind that frequents the nightmares of claustrophobic people. I clung to Lex’s hand like a scared little girl.

“Okay. Now what?”

As though on cue the door at the top of the stairs swung shut with a bang and plunged the basement into total darkness. I jumped, adrenaline shooting through my veins in a frightened rush, and Lex’s grip tightened in what I assume was a futile attempt to comfort me. Off to our right, a door I would’ve sworn had not been there moments before opened. A figure stood outlined in the doorway, the soft diffuse light of candles glowing behind him. Though I wouldn’t have thought it possible, the vamp smell became even stronger, and I sneezed twice in reaction.

“Duquesne,” the figure said, inclining his head slightly.

“St. Jerome.”

“This must be Miss Morrow, I presume?” I noticed a slight accent when he spoke, a bit of British. The vampire tilted his head to the side as he looked me up and down, an expression of detached interest on his face. If not for the odor assaulting my nose, I would have thought sorcerer on first seeing Simon. He was dressed in the type of long, full robes so many sorcerers seem to prefer. Black of course-in fact I don’t think I’ve ever seen a sorcerer wear robes of another color. I’ve never seen a librarian dress like a Lord of the Rings reject though, so either this vamp was a fan of fantasy fiction or he was actually old enough that his attire had at one point been socially acceptable during his lifetime. I was banking on the latter rather than the former.