My body grew numb as I walked back to Nathan’s apartment. I hadn’t left a note, but I’m sure the hastily riffled-through faxes would give him a hint as to where I’d been. Tension coiled like electricity in the air as I crossed the street. The windows of the apartment were dark, but the shop’s easel sign was on the sidewalk. I steeled myself against the unavoidable stench of incense and headed down the stairs to the bookshop.

There was no need for the precaution. The air was clear and no peaceful music soothed me as I entered the room and leaned against the counter. I heard muffled cursing, followed by the distinctive thud of books hitting the floor.

“Need some help?” I called.

Swearing followed a startling bang. Nathan emerged from the shelves, one hand pressed against the top of his head.

“You’re back,” he said flatly, wincing as he ran his fingers through his hair.

“Sorry. I had some stuff I needed to do.” I couldn’t tell him, I decided. If he asked, I wouldn’t lie, but it would be suicide to volunteer the information.

He didn’t say anything. He went behind the shelves again and continued doing whatever I had interrupted.

I followed him. He slammed the books into their places on the shelf and walked past me to the other end of the shop, where he fussed with a display of tarot cards that didn’t look as though it needed rearranging.

“So, are you going to talk to me or what?” I asked quietly as he fanned out an open deck as if they were a row of magazines on a coffee table.

“I’m sorry. I’m being rude. How was your evening? Did you have a nice time with your sire while I rummaged through your burning apartment?” The sarcasm in his voice was like a slap in the face.

My temper rose. “You went to that apartment all by yourself. I didn’t ask you to go. All you wanted was your precious book!”

“This isn’t about the fucking book!” He slammed his fists on the table. A sealed deck of cards bounced onto the floor. “How long did you wait before you went snooping through my stuff to find his address? Did you give any thought to what you were going to do? No! After everything I told you, after what you lived through at his hands, you went after him unprotected. He could have killed you!”

“But he didn’t. I can handle myself,” I said.

“You don’t know what he’s like!” Nathan yelled as he put a display of candles in order.

I hoped he broke every damned one of them. “And you do?”

“Yes!” He turned to face me, a handful of orange candles still in his hand. “He’s capable of things you can’t imagine. Things you wouldn’t want to know.”

“He’s a killer. It’s in our blood to be killers. It says so in your freaking vampire bible!”

“Is it in our blood to torture? To maim? Is it in his blood to prey on the weak and exploit kids like Ziggy? Because I’ve got the same blood in my veins that he does, and I’ve never had the urge to rape and murder a sixteen-year-old girl!”