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“Which teacher called you?” Fiona took her dish into the kitchen. She had to know which teacher was keeping an eye on her at school, just in case some nice guy got interested in Fiona, and she ratted on her to her great aunt about that too. Fiona felt as though she was living in some gigantic fishbowl and everyone was keeping an eye on her.

“Mrs. Emerson.”

Fiona sighed deeply. She didn’t know any Mrs. Emerson. “What subject does she teach?”

“Not sure, dear. Here, let me clean the dish. You never do this right.”

Fiona did just fine cleaning dishes at home. Not with Regina. Everything had to be done just so. Fine with Fiona. It got her out of doing the dishes.

“I’ll just go and do my homework. Oh, and I would really like to have a blue comforter in my room.”

“Why?”

“Uhm, because it’s my favorite color? Besides green. But for my room I would love blue. I’m not that fond of black.”

“Maybe later, dear.”

That meant no. But Fiona wasn’t giving up.

“Oh, and, Great Aunt Regina?—”

“Regina, dear,” her great aunt said, her words biting.

Between clenched teeth, Fiona said, “Okay, Regina. The guy I was supposed to avoid, what was his name?”

Her great aunt stared at her as if she’d been hit with the strangest question.

“I didn’t ask his name when he danced with me, and he didn’t offer it,” Fiona clarified, feeling like an idiot for not insisting he give her his name. From the sounds of it, she now had the reason why he had asked her to dance. He was bad news.

Regina nodded. “Arman Powe. Let me know if you see him again.”

It had been Arman! Had he been fixated on her since that day when she’d spilled her soda on him? But followed her all the way here? Two years later?

“Sure.” But Fiona figured that was going to be Clarissa’s job.

“And, Fiona.” Regina said it as a way to get her attention.

“Yes?” Fiona paused at the kitchen entrance.

“My nephew, who was supposed to be your father, wasn’t.”

7

Pacing across the living room of the house they had rented, Arman was still furious with Ruric for jumping in front of Fiona’s car and getting hit. Usually when he got mad at one of his friends, he would easily get over it. But he couldn’t help feeling a grudge toward Ruric. What if Fiona had fallen for Ruric instead? Arman was supposed to be taking care of her, not Ruric. “Why did you pull what you did with Fiona?”

“I was trying to help you.”

“I don’t need your help. Here you had the opportunity to grab her then and you didn’t.” Arman glowered at Levka. “Or you could have.” Arman sat down to have breakfast, Caitlin and Jasmine making ham and cheese omelets for them. Though the Scottish estate had a human chef, sometimes Arman and his friends swapped off on who made what meals for the day while the chef could go into town and buy supplies. And when they were on their own like this, they took turns.

Levka said, “Fiona can’t be forced to do anything. If we had tried to get her to go into the house against her will, she could have screamed bloody murder and what a scene that would have made.”

Arman had to admit Levka was right, though he wouldn’t admit it out loud. He glanced at Caitlin. “You look a little pale today.”

“Yeah, I’m having a cocktail with my breakfast.”

Arman nodded. That was the trouble with having a more newly turned vampire in their little group.

“What are your plans for today?” Levka asked Arman.