“Tell me about it,” I said, all of my awe from sitting in my kitchen with Rynn Cormel washed away by the panic of fighting for my life. “I think she uses me to test herself.”

Rynn Cormel’s gaze came back from Mr. Fish. “Is that so?”

The questioning tone in his voice made me nervous, and I watched him catalog the mixing of Ivy’s life and mine. Standing straighter, I gestured with my coffee mug. “What can I do for you, Mr. Cormel?”

“Rynn, please,” he said, flashing me one of his famous smiles that had helped save the free world. “I think after that, we should be on a first-name basis.”

“Rynn,” I said cautiously, thinking this was really weird. I took a sip of coffee and eyed him over it. If I didn’t already know he was dead, I’d never have guessed he wasn’t alive. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but why do you care if I’m okay or not?”

His smile widened. “You’re part of my camarilla, and I take my duties seriously.”

I suddenly wished Jenks was here. A spike of fear plinked through me, and I became very interested in the whereabouts of my splat gun. Rynn wasn’t living, but the sleepy-time charm would drop him as fast as anyone else. “I won’t let you bite me,” I said, the threat in my voice clear as I forced myself to take another drink of coffee. The bitter smell seemed to help.

Other than his pupils dilating, he hid the effect my fear had on him. I was impressed.

“I’m not here to bite you,” he said, pushing his chair back away from me an inch or so. “I’m here to keep anyone else from doing so.”

I watched him suspiciously and uncrossed my ankles—getting ready to move if I had to. He had told Al that I belonged to him. Tried to save me from Al because of that. “But you consider me part of your camarilla,” I said, not dumb enough to tell him I didn’t want his help just yet. “Don’t you bite everyone in it?”

At that, he relaxed, leaning forward to push Ivy’s keyboard out of the way and put his elbows on the table. An eager light filled him, and I marveled at how alive and excited he looked. “I don’t know. I’ve never had one,” he explained, his dark eyes fixed earnestly on mine. “And I’ve been told I’m charmingly eager in my efforts to start one. A politician can’t—it doesn’t make for a fair race.”