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with a derisive sniff. "He is human now. He's probably eating dinner."
I looked at the clock. It was nine.Dahlia had probably been and gone by now.
I dialed Cyrus's number.
When he answered, he sounded distracted and slightly out of breath. I didn't
let myself dwell on the possible reasons why. "How do I find you?"
"Very well, thanks." He paused. "You mean, how do you find where I live?"
I groaned an affirmative.
With a sigh, he said, "I'd hoped it wouldn't come to this. Listen, I live
very close to you. Why don't I meet you on the corner in front of the Brandy
wine?"
I frowned. Aggressive raindrops battered the window-panes, and I'd heard a
rumble of thunder not long before. Why was he being so difficult? "How about
you just tell me where you live?"
"Fine."He gave another heavy sigh. "Ilive, you will be pleased to know, just
down the street from you, in the big gray house with the rainbow-striped
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American flag out front."
In the spirit of friendship no matter how weird and disordered I held off a
foghorn laugh and just snorted.
"Oh, it's terribly funny. It will please you more to hear that my apartment
is in the basement. You have to go around the back and down the stairs." The
bitterness in his voice tugged a little pity from me. "I assume it used to be
a servants entrance, before the place was divided up."
"It can't be all bad," I began, but he cut me off.
"I have to go. I'll see you tonight." He hung up without saying goodbye.
At nine-thirty I kissed Nathan on the cheek to draw his attention out of his
book.
"Leaving already?" He captured my hand and gave it a squeeze. Though he tried
to block it from the blood tie, I felt his desperation.
Stop worrying. It's you I'm coming home to.
He smiled up at me. "I know, sweetheart."
"Then let me go, and don't worry about me." I didn't think he would follow my
instructions, but it was worth a shot.
At least he pretended to be okay until I left. That was a huge step for him,
and I was proud he could manage it. Besides, I couldn't feel guilty. This was
what we'd come back for.
The house Cyrus described wasn't far. Despite the rain, I walked. The wet had
never bothered me, at least not since I'd learned in med school that it wasn't
wet hair but a virus that caused the common cold. In fact, I kind of liked the
rain.
As Cyrus instructed, I went to the back door, which opened onto a bare
landing. My choice was up or down, and both passages were illuminated by
lightbulbs swinging from cords.
"Snazzy," I whispered with a little amusement. Truly, it was a case of the
mighty falling far.
At the bottom of the stairs was a laundry room with no door, and a single
apartment marked B. I was about to knock on the door when it opened.
There was a weird second when my brain registered that it wasn't Cyrus
standing there. My first thought was,It'sthe wrong apartment . My second
was,Oh shit .
Dahlia seemed to be having the same thought process. Hers ended just a bit
before mine. Her reflexes were better.
She grabbed me by the throat and pinned me to the wall.
Chapter Nine: In the Flesh
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I had no time to react.Dahlia's face hovered centimeters from mine, and her
hand at my throat tightened. The tips of her nails dug into my skin.
"What are you doing here?" She slammed my head into the wall. I felt the
plaster crumble beneath my skull.
I pulled my feet up and kicked her, kangaroo style, so hard she bounced off
the opposite wall. "I was invited, bitch!"
"Lucky you."She held up her hands and formed a flaming blue ball of energy. I
lifted my arms to shield my face. Before she could release her spell, the door
beside me flew open.
"Dahlia!"Cyrus strode into the hallway, a towel slung around his hips. I
don't know if it was a reflex left over from her days as Cyrus's obedient pet,
or if she was as overwhelmed as I was by his presence, but Dahlia condensed
the murderous energy between her palms. When she opened her hands, it was
gone.
"What the hell is she doing here?" she demanded, planting her fists on her
wide hips in a bizarre imitation of an exasperated housewife. The gesture
seemed all the weirder owing to her vampire face, which she made no move to
cover.
In the tone Cyrus had used to placate me many, many times, he asked, "Why so
jealous now? You know the history between us. She's an acquaintance, nothing
more."
I made a point of ignoring his remark. I'd seen him wheedle Dahlia this way
before, and it nauseated me. Not to mention the fact that I found myself
slightly bothered by the label "acquaintance."
We'd been enemies. We'd been lovers. We'd been friends.Sometimes all at once.
I loved Nathan, but a part of me wouldn't, would probably never, give up
loving Cyrus.
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