“Apparently so.” I glanced around, pointed to the butt of the gun still visible beneath the hedge. “There’s the weapon. It probably has prints on it.”
“I’m sending a message to Cadogan,” Jonah said, pulling out his phone.
“Tattletale,” I muttered. Ethan was going to be very displeased.
“Yup,” he said with a smile. “I have no interest in incurring your House’s wrath—which will be enormous—when they find out what happened, especially if they believe I failed to help you.” He typed a message, waited for the response, and smiled as he put it away again.
“Your husband is less than thrilled,” he confirmed.
I growled. I probably couldn’t have slunk back into the House with torn leggings and scraped palms without anyone noticing, but I would have liked the opportunity to try.
“Ethan’s sending Luc and the others to sweep the area. I’m going to help you into my car, and then I’m going to stand out here and wait for them.”
“I could walk back to the House,” I muttered, but just for form. The adrenaline was starting to wear off, and residual fear was replacing the fury.
Jonah was too kind to make me confess that. Instead, he walked to his car, opened the door, and smiled. “Get off your feet for a few minutes. Then I’ll get you home.”
I found I couldn’t argue with that.
When Luc and the others arrived, Jonah drove us back to the House.
Ethan met us on the sidewalk outside, a tempest of emotion in his eyes. Beside him was Malik, Ethan’s second in command, and Lindsey, one of the House guards.
Malik had brown skin and pale green eyes, and wore a suit similar to Ethan’s. They were colleagues and friends, and Malik would soon be one of the baby’s godfathers.
Lindsey was my closest friend in the House. She was a sassy blond with pale skin and a biting wit.
“What happened?” Ethan asked, cupping my face in his hands as he searched my eyes.
“I’m fine,” I said, putting a hand over his. “We’re both fine.”
“Liege,” Lindsey said, glancing around, “let’s get her inside and talk there, just in case.”
“You’re right, of course.” He put an arm around my shoulders and let Malik guide us to the House. Lindsey and Jonah followed us.
Ethan waited until we were in his office and I’d been levered down onto the sofa, then sat on the coffee table in front of me, hands clasped. “Report, Sentinel.”
“I was going for a walk, and a car pulled up at the house I’d just passed. It had a pizza delivery light on top. A guy climbed out with pizza boxes, and he tripped on the sidewalk. The boxes flew and he hit the ground. I walked over to help him up. And then he grabbed my hand, pointed a gun at me.”
Ethan’s brows flew up. “You didn’t know he was armed?”
“I didn’t even know he was a vampire. He told me he was a Very Strong Psych, could hide his magic.” I looked at Lindsey, who had her own variety of psychic skills. “I didn’t know that was possible. Have you seen it?”
“Very rarely,” she said with a considering frown. “It’s a kind of joint psychic control. You control the magic you shed, the other person’s perception of you. What did he look like?”
“Pale skin, probably five foot eleven or so. Short dark hair, but most of it was covered by a ballcap. So was most of his face. No facial hair, no scars, no tattoos, no unibrow, at least not that I could see. And he was strong,” I added, and looked down at my wrist, saw the crescents his fingernails had dug into my skin.
“I don’t recognize the description,” she said. “I’m only aware of a handful of vampires with that level of psych ability. None fit your attacker.”
Ethan nodded, looked back at me. “So he pulled a gun on you.” Anger bit through each word.
“He said he was going to kidnap me, ransom me back to the House for money. He didn’t say how much, but he said he owed powerful people.”
“He admitted that?” Lindsey asked.
“Yeah. He wasn’t shy. And he smiled a lot.”
“He smiled?” Malik asked.
I closed my eyes, pictured the scene. “I couldn’t see his eyes, but he seemed excited, like this was an adventure. Or a treasure hunt.”
I opened my eyes, looked at Ethan again. “I got the sense he thought we owed him the money—I mean, not you specifically. But people who had money to spare. I waited until I could distract him, then got the gun away. He pushed me down, drove off. Jonah found me on the ground, rolling around like a turtle.”
Ethan looked back at Jonah. He hadn’t been entirely comfortable with my and Jonah’s Red Guard partnership, because most RG partnerships were romantic, but Ethan had dealt with it. And there was gratitude in his eyes now. “I owe you a boon.”
Jonah shook his head. “You don’t. I helped a friend in trouble. There’s no debt in that.” He smiled at me. “And you didn’t look like a turtle. Maybe a wounded kangaroo?”
Malik bit back a laugh.
“What about the vehicle?” Lindsey asked.
I frowned, trying to think back. “Compact car, four-door. I’m not sure of the make or model. The light on the roof just said ‘pizza.’ It didn’t name a company.”
“License plate?” she asked.
I thought back. “There wasn’t one,” I realized. “Just temporary tags.”
Lindsey looked at Jonah, who shook his head.
“Nothing to add. The vehicle was too far away by the time I pulled up.”
“He dropped two pizza boxes, but I didn’t smell anything.” And God knew I had a nose for crust and meat and sauce. “Maybe they didn’t really have pizza in them.”
My good mood had evaporated with the man’s threat against me and my child. And now I felt irritable and unreasonably angry about being tricked with pizza.
Ethan, who’d become very familiar with the seemingly random, hormonal oscillation of my moods, put a hand on my knee. Then he rose, walked to the refrigerator tucked into the bar, took out a bottle of Blood4You—the House’s preferred brand of bottled blood—and brought it back.
“Drink,” he said, his voice firm but kind. “You’ll feel better.”
I showed my fangs, but since I knew he was right, I uncapped the bottle and downed it.
“Pizza box logo?” Lindsey asked.
“I didn’t see anything,” I said. “Looked like plain white boxes.”
She nodded. “We’ll check that, too. Just in case there’s something we can use to trace.”
“What the hell?”
The words erupted from the doorway, and she came in like a tornado—a petite dervish of pale skin, blue hair, and magical energy. Mallory Carmichael Bell was my best friend and a powerful sorceress.
She sat down beside me on the couch, took my hand, squeezed. “Who hurt you?”
“No one. I’m not hurt, and neither is the baby. We’re both fine.”
“Apparent kidnapping attempt,” Ethan said. “Fake pizza delivery man falls down; she tries to help.”
Mallory’s eyes widened beneath her bangs. She was trying a long, shaggy bob with bangs she kept pushing out of her face. “Man, he knew how to pull you right in.”
“What?” Ethan asked.
“He knew how to get her. With pizza and a klutz who needed help.”
It wasn’t until then that I remembered his comment. “He said I was predictable.” I looked at Ethan. “You think he knew I liked pizza?”
“And where you walked,” Lindsey said. “He targeted you.”
That made sense—and didn’t make me feel any better. That he’d been watching me was as real a violation as the gun pressed into my abdomen had been. But somehow even more intimate and disturbing.
Mallory moved incrementally closer so our shoulders touched, a unified wall against the threat.
“Review the House’s exterior cam footage of Merit taking her nightly walk,” Ethan said. “Go back a week, and further if necessary. Look for anyone watching, common vehicles, common individuals.”
“Will do,” Lindsey agreed with a nod.
“We will find him,” Ethan said, shifting his gaze back to me. “That is our new goal.” He glanced at Malik, then Jonah. “I’m on this until it’s resolved. If you could take the lead on contract negotiations with the mayor, I’d appreciate it. They requested a response this week.”
“Done,” Malik said.