Page 21 of Ophelia's Vampire

Ophelia’s indignation shines sharp and bright as my words find their mark.

“Like hell we are.”

She tries to brush past me, back down the alley to the busy street beyond, but I step into her path.

“If you’d just take a moment to listen to reason, I’m sure you’ll agree that—”

“Listen to reason? Like what you did back there wasn’t absolutelyunreasonable?”

“What I did back there? As in, got us both the perfect cover to meet with the vampires who might have the answers we’re looking for?”

Ophelia’s lips press into a thin line, and I try not to let her silence feel like a small victory.

Even if, at the same time, I can’t help but be impressed at how quickly she adapted to what I threw at her back in the cafe. Nothing more than a split-second’s hesitation before she fell into the ruse, as convincing as I could have dared hope.

It wasn’t a terribly well-thought-out plan, and the implication Ophelia and I have some sort of relationship was a stroke of last-moment inspiration. I’d seen the unwillingness inCassandra’s expression, the hint of fear over whatever secrets she’s trying to keep for Philippe, and it seemed like the best way to convince her Ophelia and I are firmly on the same side. I needed her to believe that whatever influence I wield extends to Ophelia while she’s here in the city, as does my protection.

“Fine,” she allows after a few moments, and that victory is still as sweet at her begrudging concession. “I can give you that. Even if the way you went about it was absurd.”

“Absurd? The word you’re looking for isbrilliant”

She rolls her eyes. “What made you so sure I’d go along with it?”

“You came highly recommended for this assignment, and if there’s anyone’s judgment I trust nearly as much as my own, it’s Ewan Blair’s. I made the assumption you’d be more than capable of keeping your cool inabsurdsituations.”

Ophelia seems a bit taken aback at the compliment, but her guard’s not going anywhere as she taps her foot idly on the ground and runs a restless hand through her hair.

“How the hell did you even find me here?”

It’s a fair question, and though its honest answer is unlikely to win me any more points with her, I offer it anyway.

“I had an associate of mine help me track you down through Cassandra. I know the company she keeps and what kind of work she does for the coven. Blair mentioned the two of you used to be friendly and might be in touch while you were in the city, so the dots weren’t all that difficult to connect.”

She stews over that for a moment. “Fine. Alright. You had a lucky guess.”

“Aneducated—” I bite my tongue at her dark scowl and change tactics. “Regardless, I meant what I said. If the coven is involved, I’m involved. I can’t in good conscience let you get yourself entangled with them on your own.”

Again, Ophelia falls silent.

As she considers her options, I study her face in the low light of the alley. Closed, guarded, I can’t get a read on her or guess what she’s going to say before she speaks back up.

“So… what now? What do we need to know for tomorrow?”

The world tilts slightly beneath my feet. “You’d like to accompany me to the Raven tomorrow?”

Another scowl, just as brooding as the last. “Uh, yeah? You think you’re going to sideline me after all of that?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Despite that assurance, the world hasn’t entirely righted itself as I try to reorient myself in a reality where Ophelia would have agreed so easily. One in which we’re somehow, impossibly, about to embark on the next phase of this investigation together.

Her mouth is still set into that hard, defiant line, like she’s just waiting for me to give her some more hell or wave my victory in her face.

But I have no intention to do so.

Not when I still stand by the fact that we’d be better served by partnering in this work, and not when a sliver of ice still lingers somewhere near the center of my chest—the same one that lodged itself there with Vincent’s visit and only eased up in the slightest when I walked into the coffee shop and saw her sitting there unharmed.

It’s a sliver that feels very much like fear.

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