to kill her. I keep an eye on her, sure, but nearly every vampire hunter around here does. I’ve seen her around, but the vampires I’ve seen her with usually disappear after a while. As long as they don’t turn her, I don’t care where they go.”
“She kills them!” I triumphantly jabbed my finger in the air. “She said she’d killed Cyrus’s other fledglings before, so you’ve got to be able to—”
“No, Carrie, the goal of the Movement is to rid the world of vampires. She’s actually doing us a favor.” He looked away from me. “But it does trouble me to hear he’s been making fledglings we haven’t heard of. If Dahlia were a vampire…but I can’t imagine Cyrus would be foolish enough to turn her.”
“He was foolish enough to turn me,” I reminded him.
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“Yes, but you’re not a witch.” His tone was the vocal equivalent of a condescending pat on the head. “A vampire’s blood is very powerful. Combine that with a witch’s abilities and you’ve got spells to raise the dead, summon armies from hell, et cetera. But as it stands, I think it would be safe to assume Dahlia merely wants to become one of us for her own selfish reasons. Is there anything else she said that might give us a clue why she targeted you specifically?”
I thought hard, but the entire evening was still a blur. “Just my ties to Cyrus.”
He looked helplessly around the apartment, as though an answer hid in the bookshelves.
“Well, if she assumes you’re dead, at least she won’t come looking for you. That’s something.”
Cold, sick realization made my stomach constrict as I remembered everything in my purse spilled all over the dirty floor of the donor house. “She has all of my identification. I left my purse behind.”
Nathan frowned. “Well, that was careless of you.”
“Yeah, I guess I should have gone back for it after she stabbed me!” I snapped. I was too tired to keep up the sarcasm for long. “What am I going to do now?”
He went to the window and lowered the shades. “The sun is going to be up soon. I don’t think you’ll make it home before dawn, and I’d rather have you where I can protect you. Why don’t you stay here until dusk?”
I looked doubtfully around the cluttered apartment. There was one dead bolt on the door. It seemed a far cry from the safety and security of a building with a night watchman. Especially since a crazed witch was out to get me.
His eyes darted to the door, then back to me. “I swear, nothing will happen to you as long as you’re here.”
As if to reassure me, he stood and opened the door of the coat closet, revealing an impressive array of medieval-looking weapons.
“Beats a night watchman,” I said in awe.
Nathan suggested I take his bed. “I’m going to wait up for Ziggy, make sure he gets in okay.”
Glancing at the couch, I realized I shouldn’t argue. It didn’t look comfortable, and since it lived in the company of two men, it didn’t look very clean, either. I didn’t mention that.
“You look out for him, don’t you?”
“Ziggy?” he said the name with genuine fatherly affection. “Yeah. Well, he hasn’t got anyone else.”
“Neither do you.”
I’d said the words without thinking, but their impact was visible. Nathan’s faint, unguarded smile faded. I glimpsed a flicker of pain in his eyes before the emotionless mask was back in place and he returned to being the polite acquaintance that held me at arm’s length.
I had no idea why it bothered me, but it did.
“Listen, you’ve had a rough night, and those wounds aren’t going to heal without some rest.” He pointed toward the hallway. “The bedroom’s straight back.”
I knew a dismissal when I heard one. I was halfway down the hall when he spoke again.
“There are some T-shirts in the bottom dresser drawer. You can borrow one if you want.”
I went mechanically to