Page 74 of Ophelia's Vampire

The corners of his lips turn up with something that might almost be amusement. It’s not, though, not with the way his eyes stay hard, flinty, sizing me up like I'm a puzzle to solve.

I shrug, swallowing again over the heaviness in the back of my throat. “It was a long time ago. I’m sure everyone involved has no problem letting bygones be bygones.”

“Well, it would certainly seem that Casimir has. But he did always have the most…temperatepersonality. Of the three of us.”

Philippe’s eyes drop to trace along the slope of my neck, pausing to study the fading mark there for a few long moments.

“Why didn’t you invite him to join us for this meeting?”

Philippe’s smile returns, something calculated and knowing in his expression. “I spoke to Casimir earlier today, so he’s well aware of my thoughts on the matter. And besides, I am much more interested in speaking to you, Ophelia. After so many centuries, conversations between my brother and I tend to start running themselves in circles. But you are a novelty, and I do so crave novelty wherever I can find it.”

His eyes are brighter now, almost eager, and a trickle of unease curdles in the bottom of my stomach.

He spoke to Cas? And Cas didn’t tell me?

Maybe it’s not a big deal. Cas and I haven’t seen each other today, so there’s been no opportunity for him to mention it. But… he could have called, or sent a text, donesomethingto let me know he’d spoken to Philippe.

I did my damndest to get a hold of Cas before this meeting, and he kept his conversation with the vampire we’ve been hoping to speak with for weeks a secret.

What else has Cas hid from me?

More conversations with hisbrothers, more centuries of twisted games and history between them?

Or, I make myself remember, it could be Philippe lying, manipulating, playing his own games that have nothing to do with Cas.

I stand slowly from my seat and take a step closer to the windows. I hope it appears as idle curiosity to Philippe, the need to stretch my legs or a simple desire to take in the view. I hope he can’t hear the thundering of my heart or scent the dread that’s growing heavier and heavier by the second, the shaky energy coursing through me making it impossible to stay still.

In the reflection on the glass, I watch as Philippe rises and takes a slow step forward to stand behind me. He lifts a hand, and the ghost of his touch at my back makes my skin crawl.

I want to get the fuck out of here.

I don’t want to be a pawn in Philippe’s game, or Cas’s, or whoever the fuck wants to play with me.

The case is still important, though, and I also want to know what he knows. Despite it all, I came here for a reason.

Indecision roils inside of me, stealing my breath and cramping in my stomach.

I turn to face Philippe. “What do you know about Haverstad and the attacks?”

“So blunt,” he says with a humorless chuckle. “Cutting right to the chase? Eager to be done with our conversation?”

“I just don’t have much interest in rehashing the past. The present is so much more exciting, isn’t it?”

“Indeed.” Philippe thinks for a moment. “Clever girl, connecting the mayor to the attacks. Very well done, Ophelia.”

Jaw clenched, I make myself hold my tongue at the condescension in his tone.

“And, if my sources are correct, you’ve also been looking into one of the victims. A boy. Dylan, was it? He—“

“Devin,” I correct, ignoring the flash of irritation on his face at being interrupted.

“Devin. Of course. I suppose, then, you’ve already discovered how the other twovictimsconnect back to Haverstad and his campaign?”

I could lie.

Audra hasn’t uncovered any information about the other two, and neither have Cas or I.

Would it be better to pretend like we have? Maybe if I bluff, he’ll go on one of those monologues Cas said he’s so prone to.

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