I returned to work, a good thing for the store because Maddie had taken some much-needed time off. I checked on her via Doug and offered to go to her if needed, despite knowing I wouldn’t enjoy listening to her mourn for Seth. Of course, since I was doing the same thing, maybe I shouldn’t have been so quick to turn down commiseration.

“She just wants to be alone right now,” Doug said, leaning in my doorway. He had no joke today, none of his usual wackiness. “Still upset—but she’s a trouper. I’ll let you know when she’s ready to see anyone.”

“Okay.” My heart went out to her. “Keep me posted.”

It was nearing closing time, and I went out to the store’s main part to help with some of the evening tasks. A few of the staff members were already going home. One of them was Gabrielle. And she was leaving with Cody.

“What’s going on?” I whispered to him while she went to get her purse. He wasn’t even wearing black.

“We’ve gone out a couple times since…well, while you’ve been distracted.” He sounded apologetic for his happiness.

“That’s fantastic,” I said. Love was managing to survive somewhere in this world. “What changed her mind? The concert?”

“A little. I think that opened the door. She’s really excited that I’ll only hang out at night. And that I can show her real vampires.”

“What? You managed to convince her Peter was a vampire?” To the average human, that would be even less likely than Cody being a vampire.

“No, of course not.” His lovesick expression hardened a little. “But Milton—you know that vampire from Eugene?—he’s been in town this week. Claims he’s visiting friends.” Vampires were very territorial about their hunting grounds, even ones like Peter and Cody who rarely took victims and didn’t kill when they did. “He hasn’t caused any trouble, but I don’t buy that vacation thing. It’s as ridiculous as Simone just visiting.”

“She is gone, right?” That had been the rumor, and seeing as there’d been no wacky mishaps with two Georginas, I had to believe it was true. I’d never know what her motivation had been.

“Yup, as far as I know. Anyway. Milton. He sure does look like a vampire. Have you seen him? He’s like a modern-day Nosferatu. I took Gabrielle when I went to spy on him at a dance club, and she got really excited. She thinks I have some special knack for finding vampires—at least wannabe ones.”

“Huh,” I said. “That’s somehow bizarre, funny, and cute all at the same time. Maybe a little disturbing.” He grinned at that, showing his fangs. “What’s she think of the teeth? You can’t hide those if you’re up close and personal all the time.”

“Told her I had them cosmetically done.” He looked very pleased. “She thinks it’s hot.”

His new romance left me in a good mood when I finally took off. I stepped outside into the chilly night, surprised I didn’t mind it so much. Something about the clean, brisk air seemed refreshing to me, and for the first time in a while, I regretted moving out of Queen Anne. It would have been nice to walk home on this early winter evening, instead of climbing into the plastic and metal of my car.

There was nothing to be done for it, though. I turned the ignition and checked my cell phone before heading out of the parking lot. I often left the ringer off while working, and three calls had come in for me. I had a voice mail for each. The first was from a few hours ago, from Erik. He spoke in his usual genteel tones, but I could hear some urgency underneath. He told me he’d come up with some theories about my contract and wanted to talk to me soon.

The next message was from Roman, from about an hour ago. He knew my work schedule perfectly and was calling to see what kind of takeout I wanted. If I called as I was leaving, he said, he’d probably have food by the time I walked in. I felt my lips turn into a smile at that—one that promptly dropped when I heard the last message. It had come in five minutes ago and was from Erik again.

“Georgina—”

That was it. Just my name, tense and strangled. After that came static, what sounded like the phone dropping, and then the voice mail ended. I stared at my phone as though it were a totally foreign object.

I had never, ever heard Erik call me by my first name.

My car was already headed toward his store when I dialed him back. It was too late for the store to be open, but that was the number my cell phone had logged. No answer came. I tried his home number, just to be safe, and received no answer there either. My fear increased, as did my speed. Easy traffic moved me along, but I still felt like his store might as well be hundreds of miles away.

I made it there in fifteen minutes, which was actually pretty remarkable. The store’s lights were on, though everything else in the strip mall and its lot was dark. I parked right in front, in a handicapped spot, and tore out of my car, nearly coming to a halt at what I found.

The glass of the door and window were smashed, with glittering shards covering the sidewalk. Even if the door had been locked, I could have reached right in to open it. I pushed through, stepping inside to find more destruction. Fountains still tinkled, music still played, but everything else was in shambles. Bookshelves knocked over. Statuary in pieces. Jewelry cases broken—and empty.

“Erik?” I called, hurrying through the store. There was no answer. I passed the register, saw the drawer hanging open, and suspected I’d find it as empty as the cases.

I was heading for the store’s back room when I heard a small noise. Turning, I peered around wildly and caught a glimpse of a hand, behind the checkout counter. There, I found Erik sprawled on the floor, pale despite his dusky skin. A hand lay over his stomach, which was a pool of dark blood. His eyes were glassy, and for a moment, I thought he was dead. Then the lids twitched, and his eyes focused on me.

“Miss Kincaid…”

I dialed 911 while simultaneously trying to rip my coat off. I screamed at them to send an ambulance and pressed the light fabric of the trench coat into his stomach. The effort was futile. A red strain promptly began spreading through the cloth.

“Don’t say anything,” I pleaded when I saw his lips move. They were blue-tinged. “Someone’s coming. You’ll be okay.”

I wanted to ask a hundred questions: what had happened, who had done this. None mattered. Only saving him did—and besides, the scenario seemed painfully clear. A break-in, one in which he must have interfered. Two bullet holes on the wall revealed what had happened to his stomach. The third shot had hit.

“Miss Kincaid…” His voice was so small, barely a croak.

“Shh. We’ll talk later, after the paramedics come. Save your strength.”

“There won’t be a later,” he gasped. I swear, he tried to smile. “Not…for…me…”

“They’ll be here in, like, five minutes,” I countered.

“Doesn’t matter. Too weak. Too much blood.”

“No,” I said desperately. “No.” Even as I begged, my hysteria growing, I knew he was right. He had lost too much blood. He was only alive now because this was a slow-killing wound. Even if paramedics walked in right now, they wouldn’t get him away in time to save him. With his age and recent illness, he wouldn’t come back from this. Still, I denied it. “You’ll be okay. Listen—”

“You listen.” There was no real force behind the command, but I shut up. One of his hands clung to me. “It’s not…your contract.”

I was confused, my mind still on his condition and the store. Then, I caught the context. “Let the contract go. We’ll worry about it later.”

His grip tightened. “There must be another. Two contracts.”

“There…what? No. That’s not how it works. I know that for sure. One contract per soul. I signed one. Now, please. Don’t say anything else.”

“Find it,” he coughed. There was blood on his lips. “Find…it.”

“I will, I will.” I would have agreed to anything, though what he was saying made no sense. My words must have comforted him because he relaxed ever so slightly. There was still no question that he must be in agonizing pain, though. I glanced up at the front of the store, willing myself to hear sirens. “They’ll be here,” I said.