Some of the pressure eased off my chest.

Connor sniffed the air and took a step back, swallowing. “Could you be a little less fragrantly relieved?”

My eyebrows lowered at Connor. “Are you trying to say I smell bad? Nice moves with the girls there, genius.”

Connor rolled his eyes. “As if I’d hit on you.”

“Hey! I’m cute.” I poked Nicholas. “Tell him I’m cute.”

“She’s cute,” Nicholas repeated mildly. “But you can’t have her.”

Connor rolled his eyes even harder. “Give me a break.” His nostrils flared. He stared at Nicholas. “How do you do it? This house is tiny.”

He shrugged but I saw the muscles standing out on his neck. I knew what that meant. “He wears nose plugs sometimes,” I explained. Nicholas nudged me. “What? Why is that a secret?”

Connor peered down the hall. “Did you tell your cousin?”

“Of course not.”

“She shouldn’t be going out alone at night right now. We don’t have the Hel-Blar infestation cleared up yet.”

“I know. We’ve already told her not to go out, but she’s not stupid. She hardly believed Violet Hill is overrun with gangs.”

“Was she sneaking out to meet some guy?”

I snorted. “She’s saving herself for Mr. Darcy.”

“So what’s going on that you came all the way over here instead of calling?” Nicholas asked. He had that intense expression I loved so much, all brooding and serious.

“Give me your phone first.” Connor held out his hand. Nicholas passed it over. Connor glanced at me. “Yours too.”

I blinked, then fished mine out of my knapsack on the floor behind us. “Why?”

“I’m not convinced Mom hasn’t had our phones bugged,” he said, scrolling through the options and hitting a bunch of buttons. I had no idea what he was doing. “I’ll leave the GPS tag, but I want to make sure no one’s eavesdropping.” He gave us back our phones, after pulling them apart to look at their insides.

“So?” I pressed. “What now?”

“The last blood supply delivery to the house was poisoned.”

We both stared at him. The Drakes had been dodging assassination attempts since just before Solange’s sixteenth birthday. And after Helena killed Lady Natasha and became queen, a whole new kind of assassin descended, vying for the throne.

He nodded grimly at our expressions. “Solange nearly drank some.”

“What? Is she okay?” I demanded. I didn’t wait for an answer, just hit speed dial on my phone.

“She’s fine,” Connor told me. “Really.”

The phone rang and rang in my ear. I switched it off, disgusted. “She’s not answering.”

“She’s fine.”

“Then she should answer.”

“She’s okay. Mom and Dad went off to make sure all of the tainted supply is dealt with, and Uncle Geoffrey is testing the bottle Solange nearly drank. Luckily it wasn’t the first of the night, or she might not have been slow enough for Mom to smell something off.” Newborn vampires weren’t exactly known for their delicate appetites or refined manners when first waking up. “But now Mom and Dad want to post more guards, assuming that’s even physically possible. And I don’t know about you, but I need more guards like I need a suntan.” He looked disgusted, the way he did over shoddy computer programming or sci-fi movies not getting proper critical acclaim. “Han Solo wouldn’t need guards. Neither would Malcolm Reynolds. Or Picard.”

I had to grin. “You do realize you’re not the captain of an intergalactic spaceship?”

“Just like you realize you’re not really a superhero?”

I cracked my knuckles. “Hunter’s showing me new tricks.”

“That’s all we need,” he groaned. “Anyway, Dad wants us all back at the house,” he added to Nicholas.

“What about—” Nicholas went still so suddenly that I cut myself off midquestion. “What?” I whispered.

But he relaxed, nodding to the driveway through the window, just before headlights speared between the trees. “Car.”

I glanced out just as my parents’ car rumbled down the dirt lane. “Crap.”

“We’ll sneak out back,” Nicholas said. Lately my dad went a funny color when he came home at night to find Nicholas on the couch with me. Nicholas kissed me, quick and hot as a shooting star. Connor just headed down the hall.

“This isn’t over!” I called after them.

Like hell they were going to leave me out of this.

I stomped into my room, muttering under my breath. I decided to change into my comfiest pajamas; they helped me think. I opened the drawer and reached for the plaid flannel pants. Shrink-wrapped condoms fell onto the rag rug. “Unbelievable.” I marched back down the hall. “Mom!” I heard them in the kitchen, boiling water for chamomile tea. Ever since his ulcer, Mom made Dad have a cup every single night. He couldn’t seem to convince her that a bottle of organic beer was just as healing.

“Stop hiding condoms in my stuff. It’s like some twisted Easter egg hunt in there.”

Mom was at the kitchen table, a china cup in her hand. Her long hair hung in two braids, lightly sprinkled with gray. She wore a silver bindi and a tight T-shirt with a lotus embroidered on the front from the local Tibetan store. “I just want you to be safe, honey,” she replied calmly.