‘Does being out at dawn mean you’re going to burst into flames and collapse in a pile of ashes?’ I asked, instilling vague interest into my voice.

‘Your own father was a vampire.’ He frowned. ‘Yet you appear woefully ignorant of our species.’

I shrugged. ‘I know staking doesn’t always kill you, not without taking the head and the heart, but hey, seeing a vamp in daylight without some protection is a new one for me and I don’t want to take anything for granted. I mean, up until I met you I thought that revenants were just a scary old myth.’ He didn’t even flinch at the dig—revenants are the scary skeletons in the vampires’ closet, and he was the one who proved the myth was real. ‘And I’m sure that wasn’t the only part of my education my father neglected.’

‘No,’ he said, tucking his hands in his coat pockets. ‘I will not burst into flames, nor would any vampire who has reached their autonomy. Those who still bow to their master’s hand would be dependant on their master’s goodwill to keep them alive. But the touch of the sun can bring much pain and a lingering disability; many would wish to choose a quick, final death to end their suffering.’

‘So what’s going to happen to you?’

‘As I have told you before, Genevieve, I carry the true Gift.’ His lips thinned to a grim line. ‘So long as my remains are not scattered, I am able to heal any injury, even a day in direct sunlight ... eventually.’

‘What do you mean “eventually”?’ I frowned.

‘Some things take time.’

‘How much time? Days, weeks, months?’

‘The window faces north and the day is cloudy ... a few weeks, maybe.’

Damn, that wasn’t what I wanted to hear. No way did I want him out of action for all that time. A day in jail I could cope with, but weeks ... I glanced at Tomas’ body. I had a murderer to look for.

‘If you get out now, can you get to somewhere safe in time?’

‘Yes.’ His expression turned thoughtful. ‘But why would you be concerned for me?’

‘Stop playing with me, Malik. When the police do finally turn up, I’m probably going to be arrested on suspicion of his death.’ I waved a hand at the body. ‘But you’ve been following me and I bet you know exactly where I’ve been every minute of last night.’ I smiled, knowing it didn’t reach my eyes. ‘You’re my Get Out Of Jail Free card.’

‘You want me as your alibi?’ he said, as if the idea hadn’t occurred to him.

‘I think you owe me one after the last time, don’t you.’ I made it a statement. ‘And of course, there’s the fact that you want something from me’—and I had a suspicion it wasn’t just my blood—‘otherwise why follow me in here to offeryour help.’ I made that a statement too. ‘So me sitting in prison while you recover isn’t in either of our best interests, is it?’

He inclined his head in tacit agreement, then moved and touched his hand to the open doorway to the front shop. Magic sparked like a match flaring as his hand brushed the Ward. ‘There is still our predicament, Genevieve.’

‘No problem,’ I said with a confidence I wasn’t entirely sure I felt. I stood in front of the back door and looked. The black bars of the Knock-back Wards pulsed and as I studied the spell I realised long black cables of magic linked the three Wards—two on the doors and one on the window. I would need to remove all three to get Malik out. No way was there enough time to dismantle the spells, and the kitchen was too small to crackthe magic—bits of wooden door or shattered glass raining down wasn’t going to help anyone—which left only one option: I’d have to absorb the spells. Of course, that option had its own drawbacks.

‘Just so you know—’ I started, turning back to Malik, then blinked as I saw him texting on his phone. Why, or rather whowas he texting? He’d always struck me as a loner, not like the rest of London’s vamps, who could call on others of their blood-families. I shook my head and went on. ‘When I remove the Wards, the magic might do something to me, but don’t worry about it, okay?’

He looked up, curiosity in his gaze. ‘What will it do?’

‘Difficult to say, maybe knock me out for a second or two, or it might just make my hair stand on end, or maybe even nothing at all. The magic can be a bit capricious when it wants, but the effects wear off quickly enough. So just get out safe and come back at sunset with my alibi.’

‘As you wish,’ he said, and went back to his texting.

I gave Tomas one last look, not really wanting to leave him but knowing there was nothing I could do for him now other than find his killer. Then, I took a deep breath, held out my hands and calledthe Wards.

The magic hit me like a ton of bricks falling on top of me, smashing my bones and pulverising my flesh, filling my lungs with dust until I felt like I was inhaling razorblades. Somewhere in my mind I screamed as hot flames scorched through my body. Fire destroyed the edges of my vision. Hard hands circled my wrists, lifting me, jerking my shoulders from their sockets. Blood, thick and copper-sweet, filled my mouth; the reek of burning flesh was in my nose. And the bricks kept falling, and falling, burying me beneath a mound of magical rubble.

‘Genevieve, my dear, I would very much appreciate it if you woke up now.’ The Earl sounded faintly bored, but as he was one very dead vampire, I decided I must be having a nightmare and went back to floating in the sparkling mist and golden sunlight he’d distracted me from.

‘ Now, my dear,’ the Earl repeated, more insistently, and a sharp pain in my hand made my eyes snap open.

A blur of red and black and pink resolved itself and my startled reflection looked down at me from the large mirror on the ceiling. I blinked as I took in the details. I was lying on black satin sheets on a bed the size of a small football field. There was a surgical shunt taped to the back of my left hand, delivering clear fluid from a drip, and three heart monitor pads stuck to my chest, their wires trailing out of view. My honey-coloured skin was mottled yellow and green with bruises, except for some pink shiny patches that looked like newly healed burns.

I didn’t look so good; to be honest, Frankenstein’s monster probably looked better. Oddly, I was dressed in a slinky red satin negligée that clashed with what was left of my singed and frizzled amber hair. The red slinky number was also at least two sizes too big in the bust area: it gaped down the front, not leaving much to anyone’s imagination. Around me the rest of the room’s décor kept going ad nauseam with the red and black theme: carpet, walls, even the ornate curtains framing the French doors and the pre-dawn sky. Yep. Definitely dreaming; hospitals don’t usually go for Bordello Tacky.

‘Good morning, Genevieve.’ The Earl sat on the bed next to me, blond hair flopping over his pale, aristocratic face, the blue of his Oxford shirt bringing out the azure colour of his eyes. The blue blazer and grey flannel trousers all contributed to his relaxed At Home in the County look—but the look was an illusion; he was the top dog in London’s vampire food chain ... or at least he had been before I’d killed him. Damn. Why couldn’t I have a normal nightmare, like running through an eerie forest being chased by something horrible and nameless, instead of a surreal dream about dead vampires in the middle of a weird hospital make-over show?

He smiled broadly, flashing his fangs. ‘I was beginning to feel a tad concerned for you, my dear. I have been attempting to awaken you for quite some time now.’

‘Go away,’ I said, only it came out more gawwwrr.

‘I knew you’d be delighted to see me.’ He patted my red satin-covered thigh. ‘And just to put your mind at rest, I am not a dream, nor some drug-induced hallucination’—he lifted my unresisting hand up from where it lay on the bed—‘in spite of the morphine in your body.’ He flicked the shunt and the sharp pain came again.