The first thing he’d taught her to do was not to do what she was doing now … standing on her tiptoes, cooperating with her captor. It was terrifying, but it was Shane’s calm voice in her head now, telling her exactly what to do. Turn your head toward his elbow. Tuck in your chin. Grab his left wrist in your right hand. Punch down and behind you with your left as you turn and pull. Then don’t stop when he lets go, move in, go for his eyes and punch his throat. Never run. Never let him get his momentum again.

She did it, calmly, turning and tucking and punching, and suddenly she was free, and she was facing her attacker. She registered him only as a foot taller than she was, and only for geometry’s sake; faces and names didn’t matter right now. Her right fist blurred as she went for a fast, hard punch to his exposed throat …

But she stopped, because Theo Goldman stepped in like a shadow and grabbed her fist before it landed.

Her attacker stumbled back, white-faced with shock; he clearly hadn’t expected the little girl to come at him like that, and Claire felt a savage sense of victory before sanity kicked in again.

“Theo? What the hell?” He really hadn’t changed, but then, vampires didn’t, did they? He just looked … kind, with warm dark eyes and hair dusted with gray, and lines on his face that most vampires didn’t have. Smile lines.

He did, however, look tired.

Shane hadn’t moved, except to pick up the shotgun. His eyes were steady and cold on the man with Theo who’d grabbed her, and Claire sensed that he was waiting for the guy to make a second attempt.

The guy didn’t move, though Claire, still trembling and adrenaline fueled, was almost sorry.

Theo shook his head, then walked to the table and picked up a curling piece of paper. He turned the sheet over and wrote swiftly, then held it up so they both could see through the dim light of the kitchen window. HAROLD IS A FRIEND. HE WAS TRYING TO PROTECT ME. APOLOGIES.

“Great,” Claire muttered, but her fury was rapidly fading as she looked at Harold. He looked … wrong, a little. He seemed awkward, and fidgeted uncomfortably like a schoolkid caught cheating on a test. He also seemed scared.

In fact, despite his large size, he was acting exactly like a kid. Even down to the body language. There was something developmentally off about him, and he looked at Theo with miserable distress, as if he knew he’d done wrong but didn’t know why.

Claire backed up next to Shane and pushed down on the barrel of his shotgun. He was getting the same impression, she saw, and he nodded and dropped his guard. Slightly.

Shane said, “We’re here to get you,” but Theo shook his head and pointed to his ears. There was something weird about the way they looked, but Claire honestly couldn’t make out the details in the shadows. Shane claimed the pencil again and wrote, WE NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE. HAVE TRUCK. WILL TAKE YOU.