The chief raised his hands. “Mr. Vanderhei, I assure you, I’m here out of the utmost respect to convey—”

“To convey what? More lies and evasion?”

“Our investigation—”

“I don’t give a damn about your investigation!” Spittle flew from Jim Vanderhei’s mouth. “Your town killed my son!”

There were a disturbing number of amens and righteous murmurs of agreement.

A surge of anger rose in me, fierce and irrational, with no regard for the grief that fueled the ugliness. I fought to suppress it, but my nerves were strung too tight. Even the effort made my fury slip further out of my grasp, spiraling out of control. My hair lifted with static electricity, and the scent of ozone crept into the room as the air pressure tightened. I could see the chief glance around uneasily. A framed portrait of Thad Vanderhei rattled on its easel, and a montage of photos tacked to a display panel began fluttering around the edges.

Sue Vanderhei let out a piercing wail.

Oh, crap!

If I was outed as a hell-spawn with anger-management issues at Thad Vanderhei’s funeral, Pemkowet’s reputation might never recover from it. For sure it would be the end of Chief Bryant’s career.

“Daisy.” Stefan laid one hand on my shoulder, turning me toward him. His pupils dilated like dark moons. “I can help if you will allow me. Do you permit it?”

“Yes!” I gave him a frantic nod. “Hurry!”

It was nothing like it had been with Al. Stefan took another slow, deep breath, and I felt my violent emotions spill out of me, to be swallowed in the boundless depths of his ancient yearning, a transaction tempered with discipline honed by centuries of practice. It was incredibly intimate without being in the least invasive. I consented and he accepted, and yet, it went both ways, too. The pressure surrounding me eased softly, gently, the tightly wound coil of anger unspooling into the cool, still place that was Stefan Ludovic.

It felt . . . good.

I can’t explain it. It was like my anger was a raging fever, and Stefan’s essence was a cold, deep well that quenched it. Or maybe a nuclear reactor, and . . . whatever cools down nuclear reactors. I could sense an echo of his pleasure, of the sustenance he took from the exchange, vibrating between us. I had the feeling that if it went on long enough, I could get lost in the reflected sensations, like staring into one of those infinity mirrors. At the same time, I felt safe. Protected, at peace.

His pupils shrank to pinpoints, and he gave the faintest of shudders. I think it was good for him, too. “Better?”

I nodded again. “Much. Thank you.”

Stefan’s hand tightened on my shoulder. “I think it would be for the best if we left. Do you agree?”