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Really, he didn’t exactly disagree.

* * *

Now they were driving,taking the private road back towards the outside gate.

Nick still felt like shit.

His shoulders hurt, his neck, his head.

He had no idea what had been in that syringe, but between that and the trip to the I.S.F. earlier that day, he hadn’t felt this bad since he first woke up on the floor of that expensive hotel where he stayed in San Francisco.

The metallic bag sat between his feet now.

He still hadn’t done much but stare at it warily.

Morley grunted a laugh, watching him do that again.

“Oh, go on,” he scolded. “Open it. You took the damned thing. You might as well at least look inside.”

Nick scowled, but realized the other man was right.

Anyway, St. Maarten wasn’t exactly one for frivolous gifts.

Whatever waited for him inside, it was likely to be more practical than not.

He wasn’t disappointed.

When Nick pried open the top of the featureless metal box, he whistled, in spite of himself. Coiled up inside the fitted molding was a fully organic headset, something that probably couldn’t even be bought on the open market. It had a military-type stamp to it, and looked like it might even be a prototype.

Inside the metal cover was a note.

Nick plucked it out, and recognized St. Maarten’s pristine script.

As was her wont, she didn’t waste time with pleasantries.

It’s completely secure, Detective,she wrote brusquely.Use it however you wish. Sub-vocal dampeners are extremely effective, and impregnable against all kinds of surveillance. They certainly should be able to handle anything inside your police car, or any of the other gadgets or implants or clothing pieces you might be wearing.

Nick snorted.

Underneath that, in the same neat handwriting, St. Maarten added a postscript.

Our mutual friends are quite secure, my vampire friend, so there’s no need to come running to their rescue. From what I’ve been hearing about the creature you are hunting, that might actually put them in harm’s way. For now, we are all awaiting any further updates from you and your colleagues with bated breath. We will assume it isn’t safe to relax our security measures in any way until that time, so you can rest assured they are all in good hands.

Nick read that last part twice.

Then he exhaled, in spite of himself.

He knew St. Maarten’s idea of “secure” was no joke.

As much as he hated to admit it, they were safer with her right now than they would be with him.

And she was right, it was better if he didn’t know.

It was better if he stayed far away from them until this was over.

Pulling the headset out of its placement in the molding, he glanced at Morley.

“You mind sending over that thing you told me about?” he asked casually.