Page 56

“In the car, before…” Isabel stood in the doorway, preventing me from closing it. “I only wanted to apologise, for the way I have been pursuing Nicholas, and my belief in his guilt.”

I grimaced, looking away.

“I was not aware of the situation between you.” Her facewas a little too understanding for my liking. “I must admit, in all our years I have never seen him this way.”

I took a step away from the living room, worried Tom might overhear something that would make him angrier.

“There’s nothing going on, Isabel. There can’t be.” I murmured. “And I’ve got more important things to be worrying about than an overprotective vampire.”

Her brow creased for a second before smoothing out. I wasn’t sure I’d seen it at all.

“Of course. Though whether you like it or not, we both know it is more than simple overprotectiveness,” she murmured. “Still, try to decide how you feel… sooner rather than later. It is better to know.” She closed the door behind her softly, and her silhouette disappeared behind the glass.

Tom was leaning in the doorway to the kitchen, his arms folded. Isabel was right; he seemed stronger. But the way his jaw worked and the dark flush creeping up his neck told me we were seconds away from an explosion.

“Tom, I—”

“What the hell was that about?” he said furiously, gesturing to the door.

“It’s not what you think.” I tried to keep my voice calm. No matter how much explaining I had to do, looking at him, it was hard to forget he was still injured – another reminder of my failings.

“For fuck’s sake, Erin! Are you stupid? She killed Maggie!” His face crumpled at her name, and he gripped the doorframe so hard his knuckles went white against his brown skin.

“She didn’t,” I insisted. “Neither did Nicholas – it was all a setup.”

He snorted. “Can you prove that? I mean, either way, we’re talking about vamps here. They’re not exactly known for being upstanding members of society!”

“No. Well, yes – maybe. I think I saw something earlier tonight.” I quickly explained what I’d seen in the park.

Tom absorbed that for a minute, his breathing deliberately slow as he composed himself. The angry flush faded from his face, replaced by something worse – disappointment.

“Did it occur to you they might just be playing you to get you off their backs?” he said finally, his tone carefully controlled.

“I’m not an idiot, Tom. I’ve done nothingbutthink about this for days. Weeks, really.” I sat down and put my head in my hands. “You knew I didn’t like the idea of fighting them; there’ve been too many loose ends and unanswered questions, and I’d be risking my life on that basis…”

“Wait. So you’re… what, working with them instead? Is that what she was doing here? I thought we’d talked about this. Agreed?”

“Isabel was here to check up on you, Tom. She saved your life last night,” I said dully.

“Is that supposed to balance out the countless lives she’s taken before now? Reformed or not, she’s still a murderer!” He was getting angry again. “What about Murray? I suppose he’s innocent too. Jonathan killed himself, right?”

I flinched. “You know that’s not true. But Nicholas told me he’d never hurt Jonathan. He’s his – his great-great-greathowever many times uncle. His blood.”

Tom gawked. “Wait. Seriously, wait. He’s from Edinburgh, isn’t he? I remember reading it now. Your dad, before – he said the person threatening them had a weird accent.”

“Oh, nice and specific of him. Well done, Dad!” I rolled my eyes.

“But you admit he has an accent? I’m sure you’ve noticed it during your cosy little chats.”

Something on my face must have wavered, because Tom paled, watching me. He sat down abruptly.

“Is there something more going on?” His voice dropped, like he was afraid to even ask the question. His eyes searched my face, dread written in every line of his own.

“No,” I lied.

“I’ve known you long enough to tell when you’re not being honest, you know. I may not be Jon—” He averted his eyes, before straightening to stare at me. “I don’t get it. Do youlikehim?”

I shook my head, but I couldn’t bring myself to meet his eye. My treacherous fucking heart beat louder in my chest, shouting the feelings I couldn’t form the words for.