“I get that this is scary,” Nellie said, voice firm but comforting. “But if you can try to trust us, it would mean a lot. We want the same things. To protect both the humansandvampires.”
Brennan frowned and nodded. If this was Dom’s work, then it was Brennan’s fault for lashing out at her like she wasn’t his problem to deal with.
“How can I help?” Brennan asked.
“Don’t,” Sunny said.
Rolling his eyes, Brennan deferred to Nellie, but Nellie gave an apologetic smile. “We really need you to stay put.”
“Are you serious? People are dying.”
“Which is why you need to leave it to us,” Nellie said. “Obviously, let us know if you hear anything from Dom, or see anything weird.”
“Right,” Brennan bit out, “or if more people die.”
“Watch your tone,” Sunny said, harsh, then, “Nellie. He’s in one piece, you told him the news. Let’s go.”
“Where are you going? Do I at least get to know the plan?”
“We’re gonna investigate,” Nellie said. “Andyouare going to pinky promise to stay out of it.”
Brennan arched an unimpressed brow at her extended pinky finger.
“I will not be doing that,” said Brennan.
Nellie shrugged. “Worth a try.”
Taking the train took the drama out of storming directly to Dom’s apartment in a rage. By the time the commuter line dropped him in Boston and Brennan was walking up to Dom’s complex, most of the rage had melted away into worry. He didn’t know what he was going to say, or what he was supposed to say. He only knew that she had come to him before, and he’d messed it up, and he had to fix it.
As he came to her unit, a wind gust pushed open the door on its own. It hadn’t been locked, or even closed.
Brennan stood in the open doorway and gaped at the bare apartment. The lone window in the living room was open, letting in a fierce chill.
It wasn’t completely empty—the couch was still there, the TV and its stand, the appliances. But all the pictures, all the books and coats and cooking utensils and personal items, were packed up in a stack of boxes on one side, some labeledDONATEand one labeledTRASH. The trash box was on top, full of photos that were framed and loose and in albums, a hundred little Doms and Evelyns left behind.
Something was wedged in the open window, flapping in the wind. Brennan crossed to the window slowly, looking around like he might be dreaming and the apartment might transform back to the one in which he’d shared drinks with Dom a few weeks earlier. He grabbed the thing from the window—a folded piece of paper—and slid the window shut. The carpet in front of the window was damp from rain and snow.
He unfolded the paper, and it was a printed flyer, plain 8½" × 11" printer grade. Brennan had seen it before, on Facebook.
SAVE THE DATE!
CREATURES OF THE NIGHT: VAMPIRE BALL
MARCH 1, 2025
Will take place at the Old Florence Inn just outside Boston. Vampires and humans mingle together for one mysterious night in a historical setting.
Light refreshments. Live entertainment. Drinks available for purchase with ID.
Formal/Gothic dress code will be enforced.
18+ event.
He flipped it around and there, in scribbled, hasty handwriting, it read:
B,
You won’t want to miss this
