“Probably not. How do you think they keep this place small? Chasing away developers and whispering in people’s ears that their ideas are too grand and they should just give up. One vamp who came through here was fit to be tied about his mortal punishment, and he spilled his guts about all kinds of things. Told me the Elders regularly attend town chamber meetings with their fangs out, poisoning everyone with their venom and wiping out deals. He said one time they even crashed a groundbreaking event to stop a strip mall from being built. Maybe your AV friend was there. Or maybe at some other event that got attacked and erased from everyone’s minds.”

“The movie theater,” I said. “Downtown. There was a fire on opening night. And now the council owns it. Do you think they started it?”

“Hell,” Sal snapped his fingers. “Maybe there wasn’t even a fire at all, and they just planted that thought in everyone’s head.”

I gasped. “You think?”

“Who knows? I knew they were interfering, but I didn’t really guess the extent of it until I saw how many people tonight seemed to be having déjà vu.”

“That’s not how the fade is supposed to be used,” Reg said in disapproval. “It is always to be for the benefit of the recipient—to protect them from the trauma of memory—not for our personal gain.”

“What about Dex?” I asked. “And Poe? They were unfazed too.” I swung my gaze over to Reg. “Or ‘unflummoxed,’ Poe said.”

Reg gave a soft, sad smile in response. “Sounds like him.”

Sal shrugged. “Probably a case of wrong place, wrong time. Maybe saw something they shouldn’t have. But the real question,” he repeated, “is why do they seem to remember?”

Lina burst through the front door just then, a scatter of fall leaves around her feet, chased into the cottage by the wind she created with her speed.

“That is exactly what the Elder Seat wants to know.”

“How did you get past the gate?” Sal asked.

“What gate?”

“Oh yeah.”

They smiled at each other, and he pulled out a chair for her. I noticed that he also pulled it a little closer to him. I’d had a hard time before, picturing Lina living in this place, but the way she flung her scarf over a hook on the wall, helped herself to a cup of coffee, and sank into the seat next to Sal . . . she was right at home.

“I’ve been conferring with the Elders. Those who are left.”

“Are they mad?” I asked.

I knew it was a childish question, and the answer was so obviously yes, but I couldn’t stop myself from asking it.

“You may have inadvertently done them a favor, actually,” Lina said.

Reg and I exchanged quizzical looks.