“Sandy, I think. But there was also a Michelle he often talked to. One of them reported Sherman Jones lurking about, but I’m not sure which.”
“Good. As you said, the cops have probably gotten everything out of them, but it doesn’t hurt to double-check.”
I nodded, then swung my legs off the bed and headed for the shower. Unsurprisingly, he followed; exhaustion in a Fae was apparently a rather short-lived state. It meant my shower was rather longer than intended, and we barely checked out of the hotel in time.
We parted company just down the road from the Chase Research Institute and, as I headed inside, the awareness of being watched again rose. It seemed my official watcher was still very much on the case.
“Hey, Emberly,” Ian said, his brown eyes somber when they met mine. “Heard you had one hell of a weekend.”
“You could say that.” I picked up the pen and signed in. “I don’t suppose Abby has left a message for me?”
I hadn’t received anything on my phone, which was slightly odd, given everything that had happened.
“Yeah, as a matter of fact, she has. Lady Harriet wants you upstairs ASAP.”
“Upstairs? As in, her office?”
He nodded gravely. “’Fraid so.”
“God, that cannot be good,” I muttered. “Wish me luck.”
“Luck,” he stated cheerfully, making me smile as I headed for the elevators.
Lady Harriet’s offices were on the top floor of the Chase building. I’d never actually been there before—when they’d employed me, I’d gotten as far as the personnel offices two floors down. Plebs were rarely invited any higher, so it was with some trepidation that I stepped out of the elevator and walked along the plushly carpeted corridor to the double doors that presumably led into her offices.
They swished open as I approached. Abby looked up from the landing-strip-sized desk she sat behind. “Emberly,” she said, her voice oddly distant. “Ms. Chase has been expecting you.”
“Yeah, sorry, but it’s been one hell of a weekend and I slept—”
“That is not important right now,” she interrupted. “Please go straight in.”
She pressed a button on the control panel to her right, and the doors directly in front of me opened. The room beyond was both huge and shadowed, and it suddenly felt like I was stepping into the den of an ogress. Unease stirred, and I had to force my feet forward. The floor-to-ceiling windows that ran the full length of the room should have flooded it with light, but the heavy curtains were drawn, making me wonder if Lady Harriet had a vampirelike phobia about sunlight. She wasn’t one, of course, because she was often out and about during the day, going to meetings and doing interviews, but the utter darkness was still odd.
A huge bank of bookcases lined the wall to my right, and to the left there were two doors, both of which were closed. Harriet Chase sat impassively behind a mahogany desk, which dominated the center of the room. Only she wasn’t alone.
A man lounged casually in one of the visitor’s chairs in front of the desk. Even seated he looked tall, and he had gray hair and old-fashioned rimmed glasses that perched precariously on the end of his nose. He had the air of a professor, but, as my gaze met his, the image that rose wasn’t scholarly. It was of Death herself; she was standing close by his shoulder, waiting for her chance to reach out and take my soul.
I stopped, my heart hammering and my mouth suddenly dry. “You wanted to see me, Ms. Chase?” I said, my gaze still on the man in the chair rather than Harriet herself.
“Yes,” she said, her voice almost mechanical. “Professor Baltimore’s death is both unfortunate and untimely, but his work is far too important and must be continued.”
I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. Fear of the man in front of me had frozen over my throat.
“Luckily, Professor Heaton here is available to jump on board at short notice.” She beamed at the man. It was a false thing, and hard to believe. “We are extremely lucky to have him.”
“I’m the one who is lucky.” His voice was a low rumble of sound and surprisingly pleasant—the total opposite of what I’d been expecting. “Baltimore was someone I admired greatly. I’m honored to be picking up where he left off.”
Where Mark left off was being dead. I somehow doubted he’d find that such an honor.
“Of course, given you worked with Professor Baltimore for so long, Emberly,” Harriet continued, “and you are already familiar with his research, it is in everyone’s interest for you to continue your position as an assistant to Professor Heaton.”
Work for Death? Not if I could help it. I wasn’t that desperate for a peaceful job this life span.
“But—” It came out croaky. I swallowed heavily, then added, “I’m technically not a research assistant. I rarely did more than transcribe his notes.”
And she knew that, so why the pretense?
She half shrugged. Again it was an almost mechanical gesture. “That doesn’t alter the fact that you’re more familiar with his work than most. So, could you take Professor Heaton down to the labs to familiarize himself with the work space?”
“What, now?” I squeaked.
“Now,” she said firmly. “It is more than two hours into your workday, after all.”
Heaton rose from his chair in one long, fluid movement, and I resisted the urge to step back from him. He reached across the desk and shook Harriet’s hand. “I cannot wait to get to work, Ms. Chase.”
His words sent another chill down my spine as visions of Mark, tied to a chair and beaten to death, rose like ghosts to taunt me.
He swung around and swept a hand toward the door. “Shall we go, Ms. Pearson?”
No, my inner voice said. No!
But I forced my feet to turn around and walk out of the office. He followed, a somber, forbidding presence who seemed to loom over me. He drew close the minute we left Abby’s office, until every breath seemed filled with the nonscent of him and my skin crawled in distaste. Only, he didn’t just have no smell; there was no heat in him, no sensation of life.
I remembered Abby’s lack of life, Lady Harriet’s mechanical responses, and my heart suddenly lurched.
He was a vampire.
And he’d been controlling them both.
I closed my eyes briefly and battled to remain calm. One thing was abundantly clear—I couldn’t get into the elevator with him. I couldn’t go anywhere alone with him. If he’d been controlling them to get at me, then he certainly couldn’t intend anything good.
The urge to run was hard to ignore, but if I moved too soon, didn’t plan my escape, he’d have me. Vampires were fast. Superfast.
My gaze swept the corridor almost frantically and came to rest on the fire escape down at the far end. I took a long breath, gathering courage, then strode forward, punching the elevator call button and hoping like hell the one closest to the fire escape answered. It was the one I’d come up in and—given how little time had passed—there was a good chance it was still sitting on this floor. The light above the doors flicked on, and I moved toward it with relief.
“Such prompt service,” Heaton said, as if to make conversation. Maybe he sensed the tension in me and was trying to calm me.
Maybe I was overreacting and he was just a professor who intended me no harm.
But if that was the case, why mind-control the two women?
I clenched my fists against the flames fighting for release. I had to time this precisely if I didn’t want to provide the security cameras with more of a show than they were expecting. I might not want to work for this vampire, but I wasn’t about to out myself as something other than human, either. Of course, that was presuming the cameras were actually working. Heaton’s appearance had all the hallmarks of a well-planned raid, and I doubted he’d chance the police using security-cam images to track him down if something went wrong.