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“Thanks.” I step forward to accept my water, irrationally nervous.

It’s not like he heard us—we were talking too quietly for even a vampire to pick up on what we were saying. And if he did, what difference does it make? Richard knows we’ve met before.

Noah takes his water, and then Richard walks past us, off to deliver Cassian’s drink and Alfred’s new martini.

I share an uncomfortable look with Noah and then open my water, making sure the seal is intact. Alfred was right—Noah warned me on the way over not to eat anything and to drink only bottled water. He didn’t want Alfred to slip me something…like Cassian is planning to do to him.

I take a sip of my drink, pausing when I notice writing on the bottom of the bottle. Quickly, I secure the lid and flip it over, eyeing Alfred to make sure he’s distracted.

Written in a fine-point permanent marker is a phone number—a familiar phone number.

Playing stealthy, I unlock my phone and scroll through my contacts until I find the number Sam entered. And it’s a match .

Sam just put “Someone Who Can Help” as the name, but now I know that someone is Richard. Which means he probably didn’t betray Sophia.

Nudging Noah, I show him the bottle and my phone. He nods, understanding, and opens a new text message.

Alfred laughs loudly, clutching hold of Cassian’s shoulder and nearly doubling over. Whatever it was that Cassian slipped him, it must have been potent—and it looks like it’s already working. My conservator must have put it into his drink just before we got here.

I turn my attention to Noah’s phone, smiling briefly when Alfred glances back to make sure we’re still walking behind Cassian and him.

Noah: Did Alfred kidnap Sophia?

Unknown Number: Yes. He’s working with Larissa.

Noah: Where are they keeping her?

Richard sends an address along with a room number, and I want to whoop for joy. Then another text comes in.

Unknown Number: You’re in danger.

Noah: Right now?

Unknown Number: Possibly.

I look around, frantically trying to spot the butler, but he’s nowhere to be seen.

Noah: Give me a list of all the people on the yacht.

Three little dots come up when Richard starts typing, but Alfred calls my name…chortling. “You’re falling behind, Flower Girl.”

What did Cassian give him?

I follow Cassian and our host, leaving Noah to do his thing, prepared to stab a thug with a hair pin should one jump out and try to grab me.

“Come along, come along.” Alfred sways down the deck, sloshing his new martini. “Let’s continue our little toury-tour. Do you want to know how much this darling yacht cost?” He lowers his voice like it’s a secret. “One hundred twenty million dollars.”

“Impressive,” I say, but I’m not actually all that impressed. I mean, yeah, that’s a stupid amount of money. But who needs a yacht?

Cassian steps in close to me, eyes slightly narrowed, and whispers, “I need a yacht.”

“Let me guess. One that’s worth one hundred twenty- one million dollars.”

“You know me so well.”

“I’ve heard you can work directly with the company and get exactly what you want.”

Cassian lifts his bottled water to his mouth, smirking. “Good to know.”

I don’t know much about boats, but this thing is enormous. It has eight guest cabins, a master suite, a gym, a dining room, and a small pool. We’ve passed no less than ten staff members, all dressed in nautical white. The good news is that no one has tried to kill us.

Yet.

“So, what do you think of my new toy?” Alfred asks, leading us onto a deck. He chooses a padded pool chair and stretches out his legs like he’s lounging in the sun.

“I don’t think you’ll get a lot of use out of it from jail.

” Noah sits sideways on another pool lounger, leaning forward like he’s settling in for a friendly chat.

“How about you tell us why Gerald is working so hard to keep Cassian off the throne, and maybe we can request a lighter sentence for you.”

Alfred chuckles to himself, taking another sip of his martini.

“I wasn’t aware there was bad blood between us,” Cassian presses. “I barely know the man, and yet he’s gone to great lengths to ruin me.”

“Did Gerald even get nominated last time?” Noah asks.

Cassian shakes his head. “I don’t believe so.”

Alfred watches the conversation, tipsy and content. “Maybe he’s working on someone else’s behalf.”

“Maybe?” Cassian asks sharply.

Alfred shrugs.

“Who’s he working for, Alfred?”

“I’m not at liberty to say, and you can’t threaten it out of me. You see, I have Sophia.” He points his finger at me, swirling it in a circle playfully. “And I know your secret, Flower Girl.”

“Why are we even here?” Noah demands.

“I thought about killing you—you know, get you out of the way.” He gives us an affectionate smile, his eyes going all soft. “But I don’t know. We’re having such fun, aren’t we? I just love you guys.”

Then he sighs, tipping his head back and staring at the night sky. “The sun feels nice, doesn’t it?”

“ What did you give him?” I hiss at Cassian, keeping my voice low.

“Don’t worry about it,” he whispers back.

“Why do you guys keep saying that?”

“Technically, I could arrest you,” Noah says to Alfred. “You’ve admitted to being an accomplice in Sophia’s disappearance.”

“No good.” He grins. “It’s impossible to keep me in jail—my father would just give me a house pardon, and I’d be on my way.”

“I could probably convince him to leave you in there for a couple of decades,” Cassian says wryly.

“You’re such a killjoy.” Alfred suddenly sits up like he just had an epiphany. “You know, that’s probably why people don’t want you on the throne. If you’d loosen up a bit, I bet you wouldn’t have so many enemies.”

“I have enough friends.”

“Say, I heard you’re looking to go into real estate. How would you feel about investing in a South Beach hotel with me? To be honest, I’m a little strapped.” He lowers his voice yet again. “Did I tell you how much this yacht cost? One hundred?—”

“Twenty million,” Cassian says patiently. “You mentioned it.”

“What do you think? Beachfront property. You in?”

“I’m only in the market to buy a flower farm.”

“I could probably find you one of those. Come to think of it, I know a guy in Colorado. Ethan’s brother. Do you know Ethan? Oh, of course you do. Of course.” He suddenly becomes serious. “Did you hear he’s dead?”

“Yes,” Cassian answers, and it’s hard to tell whether he’s amused or about to toss the annoying man overboard. “Let’s talk about Gerald.”

Alfred sits back in his chair. “I told you, I can’t tell you who he’s working with.”

“That’s fine. Tell me why he became a mercenary.”

Alfred chuckles. “He’d probably like that. Mercenary. Blade for hire. Sellsword. It’s edgy, it’s cool.”

“Focus, Alfred,” Noah snaps.

“Okay, you want the gossip?” He suddenly stands, sloshing his martini. “We’re all friends here. I can share a little. Let’s go back about twenty years, okay? Early 2000s. Y2K. Boybands—you feel it?”

“Too well,” Cassian says dryly. “Continue.”

“Gerald was working for NIHA in one of their London labs as a researcher. Scientist. Biologist. Pathologist. Virologist—all the things that end in “ist.” He had nothing but time, and he spent it all on degrees. Drove me mad—we’re friends, you know. I’m out partying, and he’s studying for finals.

“Anyway, he moved into a flat in London—a nice place. But at least a few times a week, he’d hear his neighbors arguing in the next flat over.

One day, the fight got too heated for him to ignore.

He knocked on the door, but no one answered.

He thought about calling the police, but he was worried it would take too long. So, he broke down the door.”

“I’ve heard vampires are prone to that sort of behavior.” I sneak a peek at Noah, who just rolls his eyes.

“It was a good thing, too,” Alfred continues. “He got there just in time. The woman’s arm was already broken, and the guy was standing over her with—you okay, Flower Girl?”

“We get the point,” Cassian says sharply. “Are you going somewhere with this?”

“Yes, just be patient. Anyway . Gerald—he’s a nice guy. And generally pretty even keel. But he went berserk.”

“What did he do?”

“Went vampire on her boyfriend—bled him dry and then snapped his neck. Blood everywhere. ”

“Get to the point , Alfred,” Noah says harshly.

“Okay.” The vampire holds up his hands. “No more visuals. You’re squeamish.

I got it. This woman, she takes one look at Gerald, and it was love at first sight.

You know how women feel about vampires.” He wags his eyebrows.

“The craze hadn’t even gotten started yet, but let me tell you.

Those two became inseparable. Gerald was on his way to making her a vampire, but guess what—in a nasty twist of fate, she found out she was pregnant. ”

“Vampires are sterile,” Cassian says.

“Correct! But Gerald wasn’t the dad. It was her ex-boyfriend, the man Gerald put in the ground.”

“I still don’t see where you’re going with this,” Cassian says.

“Hang tight—I’m almost there.” Alfred finishes off his martini and sets the empty glass on the low table next to him. “Okay, so she’s pregnant, which means they have to wait for that final bite until after the baby’s born.”

“Why?” I ask.

Noah turns to me. “The virus will kill the fetus.”

“Yikes.”

“Yes, exactly,” Alfred says. “But Gerald is a stand-up guy. He was like, ‘You know what? I love you, and I’m going to love this little guy. He’s a gift. We’ll wait till he’s born to change you, and when he’s old enough, we’ll change him too.’”

“Just like your parents,” I can’t help but say.

“That was the plan anyway—probably the inspiration, too.” He winces. “But his girl and her baby ended up dying during childbirth. Fluke thing. No one saw it coming.”

“Okay, you’ve given us his villain backstory,” Cassian says. “But you still haven’t gotten to the point.”

“He was a wreck for a good six months. Finally, he got it together and went to NIHA. He said he was going to experiment with the virus and see if he could use it to create a stable life enhancer without the side effects. Something he could have given his girlfriend while she was pregnant.” He pauses. “The Cure All.”

Cassian curses, apparently knowing where this is going.

Alfred continues, “Duncan was consulted, and ultimately, he turned it down.”

“There are a dozen reasons why a mutated form of the virus is a bad idea,” Cassian says passionately. “Gerald is a scientist—of all people, he should know that.”

“You were on the panel the archduke consulted.” Alfred points at him. “Many claim you’re the reason Duncan rejected it.”

“I was .” Cassian smacks his thigh, growling.

“And I stand by that decision. I’m sorry for what happened to Gerald, but we need to eradicate the virus, not mutate it.

If this hypothetical drug were to enter the scene, I can’t even begin to imagine what kind of effects it would have on the population.

Do you realize that about sixty million people around the world die in a year?

Multiply that by ten years. Twenty years.

Fifty. Now imagine if they didn’t. The Earth can’t sustain those numbers. ”

Alfred presses his lips into a thin line, studying Cassian. “You’re not a lot of fun at a party. Are you sure you don’t want a drink? I promise I won’t spike it.”

Cassian sighs, frustrated. “So that’s it then—Gerald is holding me responsible for thwarting his research?”

“No—I mean, probably.” Alfred chuckles. “But that’s not his motivation. He’s working with another house because they agreed to approve his research should they take the throne.”

“Gerald is heading up the illegal research centers Sophia has been contributing to,” Cassian says, looking angry as heck. “Isn’t he?”

“Correct!” Alfred reaches forward, pressing an imaginary button like we’re playing a game show.

“Did you even kidnap her, or is she working with you?” Noah demands.

Alfred rubs the side of his neck, avoiding eye contact. “Kidnap is a strong word.”

“Alfred.”

“Fine. Okay, how’s this? No, we didn’t kidnap her. But…she’s not super happy with us right now, either.”

“Why?” Cassian demands.

“Because we won’t let her leave, and we coerced her into calling you.”

“That’s kidnapping ,” Noah says forcefully.

“Eh,” Alfred says like he’s not convinced, and then he suddenly clutches his forehead. “Sorry, headache. Just a minute.”

“It’s wearing off,” Noah says to Cassian.

Alfred narrows his eyes. “What’s wearing off?”

“Your alcohol buzz,” Cassian lies. “You should probably lie down. We’re going to get going.”

“Already?” he says, bummed. “But my chef made blood sorbet.”

Okay, yuck.

“Next time,” Cassian promises, rising.

Alfred frowns, looking a bit befuddled. “I didn’t ambush you, and we had a nice chat. We’re in a good place, aren’t we?”

“That depends.” Cassian walks over to Alfred and gives him a look that makes the man gulp.

“If you tell Gerald that Piper is his, I will kill you—and there’s not a lot your father can do once you’re dead.

So, as they say, the ball is in your court.

We can be friends, or we can be enemies. It’s your choice.”

“Okay…but you are going to turn down the nomination, right?” Alfred calls as we walk away. “I scratch your back, and you scratch mine?”

“Goodbye, Alfred,” Cassian says instead of answering, ushering us toward the dock.

Thankfully, Alfred was too loopy to instruct his crew to take the yacht out of the marina.

“You’re not going to arrest him?” I ask Noah.

“I’ve already contacted Harold, and he’s sending people in.”

“We need to hurry,” Cassian instructs, giving me a little nudge to get me moving faster. “Once his body burns off the drug, he’s going to realize how much he told us.”

“What the heck did you give him?” I ask.

“Maropitant citrate—it’s an anti-nausea medicine they give dogs to help ease motion sickness. It has a strange effect on vampires. It makes them happy, content, and comfortable. As a side note, they don’t generally throw up when they’re on it.”

“You gave him some kind of puppy downer?”

“It doesn’t usually make people sleepy, so it’s not really a downer.”

“I thought it was a weird vampire truth serum.”

“No,” Cassian says with a laugh. “Alfred is just prone to babbling when you catch him in the right mood.”

“And when you ply him with alcohol,” Noah adds, checking his phone. A second later, he makes a fist, elated. “That was Harold. Sophia is in NIHA custody. Richard gave us the right address.”

“We have her?” Cassian demands, sagging with relief.

“They’re taking her to the office.”

“What about Larissa?” I ask.

“I don’t know.” Noah practically jogs back to our borrowed car. “But we’ll find out soon.”