"Weft, we'll check out what's going on with the Soul Eater," I replied lamely.

"Without any Movement contacts and no idea where to start looking?" Nathan laughed derisively. "What are you going to do? Wave a magic wand? Or are we going to go back to the tarot cards?"

His contempt steeled my resolve to be the victor in this argument. "Nope. Not tarot cards. Think about it. You've got a blood tie to the Soul Eater. I realize it's a risk to contact him, but it's even riskier to let him roam around unchecked."

I slipped my hand into Nathan's back pocket, jerking him forward so our pelvises bumped. Almost before the thought fully formed, before I had any time to register shock at what I suggested, the words slipped past my lips: "And I've got Cyrus."

Chapter Six
Conversations with Live People

"Hello?"

I don't know what I was expecting when I dialed the number Information had given me, I guess I was still reeling from the discovery that Cyrus even had a listed number. When his voice came across the line, I was stunned. Whatever it was I thought would happen, Cyrus answering the phone wasn't it.

"Hello?" he repeated. "Look, I can hear you breathing, and it is neither sexy nor interesting. If you'd like to call back when you have something sexy or interesting to say, I will be happy to chat. Until then—"

"Cyrus, it's me." I swallowed thickly. "It's Carrie."

There was a long pause. I wondered if he'd hung up, anyway.

"Carrie." His voice seemed faint and far away. "How are you?"

"I'm fine." I glanced across the room, where Nathan sat on the overstuffed sofa, pretending to be absorbed in one of my dog-eared Terry Prachett novels.

I stood beside the bed. I'd been sitting on it when I'd first made the call, but the sound of Cyrus's voice had pulled me to my feet. It seemed way too intimate, perverted even, to be lounging on a bed, talking to Cyrus, with Nathan in the room.

"I'm fine," I repeated, turning my back on Nathan. "And you?"

"As well as can be expected." His heavy sigh made a harsh, static sound on the line. "I have a job now."

"A job?" I heard Nathan's grunt of stifled laughter and pointedly ignored it. "That's great. What do you do?"

"Do you promise not to laugh?" Cyrus didn't seem too concerned, considering he was already chuckling himself. "I stock shelves in a grocery store."

"No!" The very idea rocked the foundations of reality for me. Cyrus, my power-hungry, Euro-trash former sire, working in a grocery store?

He gave another heavy sigh. "You wouldn't believe the number of times a day I would trade my soul for a pair of fangs. Really, the customers… my God, it's as if they're brain dead."

I laughed the sympathetic laugh required for such a comment, and we lapsed into uncomfortable silence.