I thought about the brass knuckles and beating the truth from Leo. Reluctantly, I said, “There’s Bethany.”

“Ditto on the loony tunes,” Eli said.

“I wonder where Leo got the painting of Adrianna and Barbie. It was with stuff that came from his clan home when it burned, but I never saw it until it was on sub-four. Bruiser said Leo was searching for things pertaining to Santana, so I have to wonder how many other things and bits of evidence there are.”

“Diaries?” Eli asked. “Dear Diary, Today I intend to stake the Son of Darkness. Then a sleepover with my bestie, Adrianna.”

“Okay. Ha-ha. But what about newspapers? Gossip columns were big in the day.”

Eli’s mouth turned down and he nodded as he considered that. “Alex can check through archived newspapers. I’ll look on sub-four and search the room Adrianna used at HQ.” He frowned. “It’s on sub-four too.”

“Nothing vamps do is coincidence. I’ll talk to Leo.” With or without brass knucks and the use of physical violence. “He was here. I need to know more about what he saw.” I started out of the room.

Eli looked at the damaged bedpost. “Sometime soon, we need to get in some more sword practice. We may need it.”

“Until further notice, we carry multiple silver crosses and silver ammo.”

“I’ll get some holy water from a priest I know,” Eli said, “because I doubt we’ll be welcomed back to The Church anytime soon.”

I stuck my hands in my pockets and frowned at that thought. I had liked the small church and the earnest preacher. “Let’s get out of here and get Pinkie to reseal the door. We may need back in later. Or not. But until we’re done with the room, Leo needs to leave the dead vamp.” I yawned, all the energy I had been expending suddenly gone. “And I need a nap.”

“This one alone, so you actually get some sleep?”

“Shut up,” I said, too tired to blush.

We said our good-byes to Pinkie, gave her instructions about the room, and made it to the vehicle. Eli turned on the radio to a local channel to hear that there was a crowd gathering outside of vamp HQ, demonstrating about the Fifty-two Killer. Swell. They had named him. That was never a good sign. I fell asleep on the way home, and when we arrived, Eli sent me to bed like a little girl. I was so tired I didn’t argue.

CHAPTER 12

So Many Things I Couldn’t Say Aloud

What felt like only minutes later and long before dark, I heard a knock on the front door. Pulling a pillow over my head, I tried to ignore it, until I heard a soft meow. In one flowing, fast move, I shoved back the covers, rolled to my feet, grabbed up the robe hanging over the bathroom door, shoved in my arms, and yanked open the bedroom door. Molly stood on the other side, the foyer lights tinting her red hair, a small cat in her arms. Her scent filled my nostrils—fresh-baked bread, herbs, soil, and cat. Heedless of the claws, I threw my arms around my best friend and her familiar.

Neither one responded instantly, but a heartbeat later, I heard a thump, felt the vibration of something heavy hitting the floor. Suitcase, I thought. And one of Molly’s arms came around me. The gesture was hesitant, then grew more firm as she pulled me closer. The cat between us started purring.

The hesitation in my best friend had been odd. But so was the feel of her in my arms. I realized that I had never hugged Molly. Not spontaneously. Maybe not at all, ever. I wasn’t a hugger. Which was really stupid. I should be able to give my best friend in the world a hug. And then I thought that maybe Molly was afraid to hug people now, what with her magic being so wonky. And so maybe this hug was good for both of us in ways I couldn’t even speculate on. “I missed you,” I said.

Molly said, “I missed you too.”

I wasn’t sure how one backed away from a friendly hug. That wasn’t covered in ballroom dance class. So I patted her shoulders with both hands as a warning that I was getting ready to move, and stepped back, freeing her. The calico cat—who was still tiny but was probably nearly full grown by now—jumped out of Molly’s arm and onto my shoulder. Her claws sank lightly into my flesh, which made me hiss in discomfort, and she clung close as she stuck her nose into my ear, still purring. Molly, one hand still gripping my right arm, smiled happily up at me.

“I’m glad you’re here,” I said. “So, so, so glad.”

The light in Molly’s eyes dimmed, and she lowered her gaze from my face to her hand on my arm. “Something happened to you.” She released me and stepped back, looking me over. “Your aura is all wrong. What happened?”

“I was going to tell you earlier, but you were trying to catch your flight.”

“Jane was hit with a spell from a very old vamp who started life as a witch, Molly,” Eli called from the kitchen. “It messed up her skinwalker magics. Why don’t you freshen up? I’ll toss some steaks on the grill and put a salad together. Then we can debr—visit.”

I smiled at Eli’s change in vocabulary from military to civilian-friendly. And kept my eyes on Molly. She looked great.

“Your room is waiting for you, Miz Molly,” Alex said. “Clean sheets, fresh towels in the bath, and the cleaning service even dusted the ceiling fan.” To me he added, “They’ll be back tomorrow to clean your room. They got the rest of the house while you snored.” He picked up Molly’s bag, which she had dropped when we hugged, and carried it upstairs.

“I don’t know which statement is weirder. You getting hit with a spell and having your skinwalker energies all out of kilter or you having a housecleaning service.” Molly said. “You were hit with a spell?” she prodded.

I rubbed my arm where she had gripped me and lifted my cat-weighted shoulder in what would have been an offhand shrug if she hadn’t looked so worried. “Yeah. A bad one. I guess we need to talk.”

“Yes. We do.” Molly turned and went up the stairs, leaving the cat purring into my ear.

* * *

Dinner was more than just steaks and raw green stuff, and from Molly’s perspective it must have seemed perfect. Eli had made a broccoli casserole with cheese, baked fresh rolls, and a blackberry cobbler, which was a more family-style meal than the fat free, low-carb, raw veggies and protein, or pizza, that we usually ate. I had to push the cat away twice while I devoured my bloody rare steak. No wonder the cat clung to me. I was the only one who knew how to eat meat. Even Eli ate his steak less bloody than mine.