“What is it?”

“I completely forgot. The band is doing a radio interview tonight.”

Though he’d earlier professed to be choosing me over the band, I wasn’t about to insist that he do so. I was confident he’d juggle it expertly until the time came when he absolutely could not avoid it any longer. “What time?”

“Eight.” He pushed buttons on the phone. “I can just make it.” His expression was imploring. “I can’t crap out on the guys. I set this up.”

I wasn’t exactly fond of the idea of going alone into the vampire’s haven, but I wouldn’t make things harder for him. I hoped he never had to “crap out on the guys.” I nodded.

“That’s okay, Johnny,” Menessos’s voice heralded from the doorway as the vampire strolled through. “You can join us later, whenever you’re done.” He flashed his delighted and pointy grin.

While Menessos gave the location of his haven to Johnny, I changed into my freshly washed copper Henley shirt and added my brown blazer. They dressed up the jeans a little. I had to admit, this kind of felt like I was meeting his family. I wanted to make a good impression, even though I knew the notion was ridiculous.

When I came downstairs, Johnny hugged me, planted a quick kiss on my cheek, and whispered, “This thing runs until ten. I’ll get to you ASAP.” Then his lips pressed mine. It might have grown into something lustier but Beverley giggled and we both broke it off.

I escorted him outside. The rain was gone, the sky clear, but it was cold.

Johnny pointed to the duffel bag on the porch. “That’s my suitcase.” It was pretty big, as duffel bags went.

“I’ll take that with my stuff.”

“Make your minion carry it for you.”

“Johnny.”

He affected innocence and shrugged. “It’s heavy.”

“Riiight.”

His lean arms encircled me with another hug and he whispered, “You’re the boss, Red. Don’t be afraid to make him know it.”

“I’m not.” The hug ended too soon. “I’m not a fan of going in there alone, but I’m not afraid of it, either.”

He tweaked my cheek. “That’s my girl.”

Like a good boyfriend, he left me with a toe-curling kiss that sent fireworks sparkling up and down my spine. “I’m sure we’ll have our own room at the haven,” I whispered. “There’s some perks to our temporary relocation.”

“How am I supposed to talk coherently about band shit while my brain is stalled on that promise?”

I tapped his temple lightly. “Duh. Think with this head in the studio.” I added, “Innuendo point for me.”

He chalked it onto the air scoreboard. “As soon as I get to you, though, the other one’s taking over.” He finished with a low and lusty growl in my ear.

When his motorcycle roared up the road, I went back inside. Nana leaned in the dining room doorway, smoking and giving Menessos the stink-eye. He appeared a bit sheepish. “What did I miss?”

Neither offered an answer.

Beverley spilled the beans. “He complimented her on her shirt.”

“That’s it?”

“She told him not to try any weirdo vampire crap.”

“Oh.” The moment went awkward. “Well. I hate long good-byes, so let’s get this over with.”

Nana put her cigarette in the ashtray and came forward, open armed. “It’s the right thing for the right reason, Nana. It will all work out.”

“I believe you.” She patted my back.

“The contractors are supposed to come and give quotes about the remodeling. Their days and times are written on the calendar. And there are enough sticky-note jokes inside the book cover to last for three weeks . . . I don’t think I’ll be anywhere near that long, but just in case. Use them and it’ll be kind of like I’m still here.”

Nana backed away. My attention went to Beverley. Unenthusiastically, she came toward me. I crouched to receive her hug. “I’ll be thinking about you, kiddo.”

“I miss you already.”

“Likewise.” When this embrace ended, I held on to her arms, being as earnest and sincere as I ever was. “I will be back. And that party will happen.”

The onset of her tears brought mine flooding up like the dam just broke. “I gotta go.” I stood, hefted my bags, and left.

With everything tossed in the trunk of my Toyota Avalon, we climbed into the car. Menessos got in the back. Seeing my displeasure revealed in the rearview mirror, he innocently asked, “What?”

“I am not your chauffeur. Get up front.”

“I’m sorry, Persephone. Habit.” He settled into the passenger seat.

At the end of the drive, I flashed my lights at the pair of silhouettes on the porch waving. “To I-71, right?” My voice was thick, still fighting tears. Damn it. Enough with the weepiness shit!

“Yes.” It soon became clear that Menessos only gave directions on an “as needed” basis—which also kept the car uncomfortably silent. His method, though not very satisfactory to my detail-seeking self, would still get us there.

I considered my present state. This can’t be hormones. My Depo-Provera shot isn’t due until Yule. The nurse, aware of the timing, had teased about it being my gift to myself. This is just an outlet for stress. Don’t think about it as leaving home. Talk about something, anything! Shoving that emotion away, I asked, “Is there an Internet connection at the haven that I can access to do my column?” I’d packed my laptop.

“Yes. High-speed Wi-Fi. You are welcome to use my desktop if you’d care to.”

About to insist that I didn’t want to impose, I stopped myself. Do masters worry over imposing upon a servant? I wondered if strong emotions made one a terrible master.

“Thanks. I’m used to the laptop.”

More silence.

“Tell me about your vampires,” I asked.

“All vampires . . . all of them, everywhere, are mine. My curse has become theirs. And I mourn for them as equally as I delight in them. They are my children’s children’s children.”

I took a breath in order to rephrase.

“Do not misunderstand,” he went on, “I never created life in the womb of a woman. But I brought forth my kind with a relentless and undeniable seed. It brings death and rebirth into a new kind of life. And yet as I watch them, my offspring, so many of them waste the gift they have been given.”

I felt like I should cue Bach’s “Toccata and Fugue in D Minor” after that little speech. I tried again: “I meant the vampires at your new haven. What’s it like?”

He sulked for a heartbeat or two. “Masters run their havens like mini-kingdoms. Their word is law. Not all observe the same laws, however. In my private haven, none are allowed to spoil the gift they have received. You will find evidence of my dominance, but . . .”

“But?”

“I care for them. Genuinely. I believe most of them truly care for me.”

It is like meeting his family. He didn’t elaborate further, so I asked, “What are your laws?”

“My laws are based on respect for and compliance with my supreme authority.” He twisted to face me. “I believe you are beginning to understand how the people around someone with power come to expect things of that someone. And not just trivial things. They expect protection, they seek their leader’s favor. My laws are simple and firm, my rewards are quick and generous.” With wry pleasure he added, “And I do enjoy being in charge.”

That didn’t surprise me at all. What did surprise me were his directions right to Public Square, the center of downtown Cleveland.

“I’m better acquainted with the history of Chicago and New York, but I am told that in the light of day you can still see the letters spelling out ‘May Company’ atop this building.”

“Your haven is in an old department store?”

“Technically yes, but specifically no.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“The department store was ground level and several stories up. This particular building, interestingly enough, goes deep into the ground, more than you might expect. Do you know the local history?”