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“Aye, though Adam’s memory of its being built is somewhat hazier than mine,” Nicholas said, giving me a knowing look. “Something about testing every absinthe house in Paris ‘for research.’”

“I was being thorough,” Adam huffed. “Someone had to document the cultural significance of the era.”

“Is that what we’re callin’ it now?”

Adam ignored him. “But yes, the Eiffel Tower. A rather ghastly affair, though these days it’s quite drowned in gaudy lights. Have you been to Paris?” he added.

“No.” I was excluded from the reminiscing, but I should have expected as much. I’d never been around older generations who didn’t indulge in nostalgia on a regular basis – though Adam couldn’t have been all that old back then.

“When was the World Fair?”

“1889,” Isabel’s gaze grew distant. “I did not attend.”

“So you must have been…” I asked Adam.

“Twenty-two. You say you were in France in the 1790s, Nick?” Adam flicked through the pages with increasing irritation. “Could you be a little vaguer?”

“I told ye there were periods where I kept no record.” Nicholas glared up at him, ignoring the insult. “But the 1790s are irrelevant. I wasnae around people for most o’ that period, I stayed out in the countryside.”

The conversation was fast going over my head – I didn’t understand what any of them were talking about. My knowledge of French history – and specifically, Nicholas’s history – was too scarce for me to contribute much.

“Maybe we should try focusing on one time and place each, and find out what we can – then move on to the next. With each of you searching for different things, we’re just going to miss something,” I said, trying to think methodically. “There’s too much to get through otherwise.”

Isabel peered up at me, distracted. “You know, Erin, your presence here is no longer required. You have shared what knowledge you possess.”

I pulled a face at her dismissal, but she was already absorbed in her book.

“It can’t hurt to have another set of eyes, surely?” I liked to think being a hunter might give me an alternative perspective if nothing else.

She didn’t glance up this time, though Nicholas didn’t meet my eye either. He had spread out several diaries and was making his way through the pages, arranging and connecting loose papers with a renewed sense of purpose.

“You should rest, love,” he murmured, glancing up at me. I shifted uncomfortably in my chair, and his eyes darkened with concern. “I can see from the way you’re sittin’ your ribs are still troublin’ you.”

Typical that he’d try to protect me by pushing me away.

“You might check on Tom,” Isabel suggested.

Nicholas reached for my hand, but I pulled back, catching the flash of hurt on his face before he masked it. I should feel sorry, but I was more pissed off than anything.

I wasn’t an idiot. Isabel wasn’t being cruel – she was being practical, trying to shield me from Nicholas’s history. But they’d forgotten how involved I was in this. It didn’t matter to me if Nicholas was the actual target or not. This was my fight. I was the hunter, damn it, and I planned to be the one to bring Jon and Maggie’s murderer down. I’d lost too much to let a couple of vamps and a snarky immortal take that away from me, too.

Cramming a few of the early diaries into my satchel, I left the library in a hurry, without saying goodbye even to Nicholas. If they wanted me gone, fine. It wasn’t going to stop me from learning what I could.

Nicholas probably didn’t want me to read some of the thingshe’d written, but I had another plan for how I could use the books. They’d been right about one thing – I’d left Tom to his own devices for long enough. I needed to make sure he was alright, and the diaries would make an excellent peace offering.

I was pulling on my coat in the hallway when Adam appeared – he could move almost as quietly as the vampires when he wanted to.

“They’re not telling you to leave to get rid of you, you know,” he said, examining the fingernails on his left hand.

“You’re sure about that?” I asked bitterly. “It feels a lot like I’m the naughty child being sent home from school for misbehaving.”

“Izzie’s protecting him.” Adam adjusted his cuffs, a nervous habit I was beginning to recognise. “You cannotimaginethe things in those books, Erin, and I’m sure you wouldn’t want to. As for Nick…” He clasped his hands behind his back. “I suspect he’s ashamed of what you might think of him.”

I showed him the diaries in my bag. “I’veimaginedit all.”

He frowned. “Then try not to judge him too harshly.” His usual polish cracked slightly. “The person you will read about is gone. His actions weigh upon him still, but he did nothing more than play his role.” He met my eyes. “I forgave him, but I don’t think he could survive if you didn’t.”

I glared at my boots and bent to tighten the yellow laces. “That’s not a promise I can make, Adam.”