"Isaac," I said in a pleasant tone, "you're coming with me. I'm revoking my vote."

The governor's residence in Bexley was decorated festively for the holidays. A large evergreen was in the front, complete with lights, garland, and ornaments. More lights were strewn around the exterior, and the gardens were filled with poinsettias in addition to their usual seasonal blossoms. Isaac parked by the wrought-iron fence about a block from the entrance.

"What do you think you're going to do, ring the bell?" he asked caustically.

I sat behind him in the backseat, his own gun poking him in the side. Otherworldly energy permeated from the property. Oh, here there be monsters, all right.

"How many are there? And you know what I mean."

He didn't play dumb. "Three, maybe four vamps, plus the usual guys."

Judging from the heartbeats, there were about six human guards. Maybe they were just innocent schmucks doing their job. Maybe not. The vampires I suffered no conscience qualms about, and not for my usual reasons. If they were here guarding Oliver, they knew damn well what was going on.

"They know you? The guards? You've come here before, right?"

"All the time," he sneered. "You f**ked with the wrong john, bitch. I'm in his pocket nice and tight."

"Uh-huh." I took my shirt and bra off one-handed, not taking the gun off Isaac for a second. Then I pulled my hair over the bullet wound in my shoulder, hiding it. As for the rest of the blood on me...well, there was nothing I could do about that.

Isaac's eyes widened in the rearview mirror.

"Drive right on up and tell them you've brought some Yuletide joy," I said evenly, sitting back. "I'm sure it won't be the first time. And remember, I've got this trained at your head, so if you say anything else, I'll blow you to hell."

Isaac smirked. I knew he'd pull something, but I was hoping he'd be arrogant enough to wait until we were inside to do it.

"Nice tits."

"Go."

He pulled up the driveway without any more prompting. As he neared the guard station, I moved the gun to where my hip shielded it from view.

Isaac rolled down the window when he came to a halt at the gate. One of the guards poked his head out from his post.

"Hi, Frankie," Isaac said. "Back again."

"Twice in one day, Jay?" the man asked. "Who you got back there?"

Isaac rolled down my window as well. The glass had been tinted. When the guard saw me, he gave a leer at my br**sts and then laughed.

"Never mind. I guess it's better if I don't know. Good timing. The missus just left 'bout an hour ago."

"That is good timing," Isaac drawled, sounding much more confident. "See you later, Frankie."

We went through the gates and pulled up the one-lane drive to the house. I was about to put my shirt back on when someone without a heartbeat stepped out of the front door to announce him.

"Help!" Isaac shouted-and ducked.

The vampire lunged at the car just as I pulled the trigger. If I'd have been merely human, Isaac would have made it, but I was half vampire topped off with two pints of Bones, and he didn't stand a chance. Isaac's head exploded. Blood splattered everywhere, coating the windows and me in a layer of gore.

My door was ripped off its frame in the next second, but that was long enough for me to aim again. In lightning succession I fired into the vampire's open mouth, knocking him backward, pulling the trigger over and over until there was nothing but clicks, and then I jumped him.

His face was a mess. He was healing, but with pieces of his skull mimicking Isaac's current state, it took him too long. I snatched a knife from his belt with relief, ramming it through his heart just in time to whirl and face the other two running vampires.

One went airborne. I ducked to let him sail over me. He landed on the car instead, giving me those needed moments to sprint forward and launch myself on his partner. Swipe, swipe, and he went down, an expression of disbelief on his face. Being underestimated was the greatest thing ever.

The other vampire regained his bearings and circled me, fangs gleaming. There were screams from inside the house and the guard station. I heard Frankie calling for backup, and then the sound of him running. Dammit. Soon this place would be swarming with cops. Or worse.

I backed away and pretended to trip. Fang Face bought it, springing forward. His momentum made the knife I flung sink that much deeper into his chest. He was still snarling when he landed on me, and I rolled backward in a somersault and kicked him through the front window, jumping up immediately to follow him. Better him getting cut up making a doorway than me.

Gunfire erupted from inside and outside the house as the human security guards tried to defend their employer. I grabbed the dying vampire and threw him at two of the closest shooters, knocking them over. Then I ran through the dining room, past the stone fireplace with the lovely exposed-beam ceiling, and up the stairs. Behind me there was chaos as they scrambled to chase.

I didn't focus on them. I heard Oliver on the phone, calling for help, and that was all I centered my concentration on. I made it down the hall, his accelerated heartbeat my beacon, and burst through the door that stood between me and my prey.

The bullet meant for my chest tore through my shoulder instead as I lurched, seeing the gun too late. Oliver fired again, hitting me in the leg. It knocked me over and I fell, momentarily stunned by the impact and cursing myself for stupidly rushing in like that.

Frankie and two more guards came huffing up the stairs. I didn't turn around, but kept my glare on Oliver as he leveled his gun at me with a rock-steady hand.

"Isaac's dead," I said roughly, throbs of pain from the bullets almost paralyzing me. "There won't be any explosion at the hospital."

"Governor Oliver!" one of the men gasped. "Are you hurt?"

Oliver had sky-blue eyes. Very clear and bright, and that salt-and-chestnut hair was as perfectly coiffed as it had been in his campaign photos.

"Frankie, Stephen, John...get the f**k out of here," he said cleanly.

"But sir!" they chorused.

"She's down on her knees and I've got her at gunpoint, get the f**k out of here!" he roared. "Now!"

In the distance was the faint wail of sirens. Too far away for them to hear. The three men left, a jerk of Oliver's head indicating they should close the door behind them. It was just me and the governor in the room.

"You're the Crawfield girl?" he asked, not moving the barrel a centimeter.

I didn't move, mentally evaluating my injuries and noticing with a fresh spurt of anger that the wallpaper in his room was a distinctive red and blue paisley and these were hardwood floors. Oliver had to be Emily's masked rapist. She'd described his bedroom perfectly. "You can call me Cat."

"Cat," he repeated. "You don't look so tough, bleeding all over my floor. Tell me, where's your friend? The bounty hunter?"

The sirens were getting closer. There wasn't much time. "Killing Hennessey's pal Switch would be my guess. You're finished, Oliver. They're all dead. The permanent way."

His hand didn't waver. "Is that so?" Then he smiled. Icily. "Well, there's plenty more where Hennessey came from. Won't be too hard to find someone else looking to make the kind of money he was, and with meals thrown in, to boot! When I'm president, this country will have a major overhaul. I'll save the taxpayers millions, and we'll clean the scum right off the streets. Hell, I'm fixing to start on welfare recipients and nursing homes next. America will be stronger and more prosperous than ever. They'll probably repeal the two-term limit after I'm in office."

Cars screeched around the corner. Only seconds left now.

"It's not going to happen."

He smiled. "Not that you'll see. I'm about to kill you in self-defense. I can just see the headlines now: 'Governor Bravely Staves Off Murderer in Assassination Attempt.' My numbers will rise twelve points tonight."

"Ethan," I said softly, hearing the thunder of feet coming toward the house. "Look at me."

I let the shine out in my eyes. His own gaze widened, astonished, and in that split second of distraction I charged him, batting his gun aside to fire harmlessly into the wall.

"You're bleeding...you have to be human, but your eyes...what are you?" he whispered.

That emerald light illuminated his face, and my hands tightened around his throat. "I'm the Grim Reaper," I growled. Those footsteps were almost here... "Or as Bones would say, the Red one."

I snapped his neck just before the door was flung open. When the half dozen police poured in, the glow had left my gaze, and I already had my hands up.

"I surrender."

Chapter Twenty-Five

THERE WERE THREE GUARDS OUTSIDE MY hospital room, and I was on the eleventh floor. They'd even cleared this part of the wing-I knew this from the silence in the rooms next to me. Apparently they took killing the governor seriously.

Doctors had been coming in all morning to gasp and gape over me, but it wasn't because of who I'd killed. It was because of how I'd healed. Within hours, my three bullet holes had disappeared. The knife wound, gone. Hennessey's fang marks, missing. All of my scratches and bruises, vanished. I didn't even have an IV in me-the needle kept spontaneously slipping out. Frankly, I wondered why I hadn't been moved to a regular jail cell yet, but after Isaac, I wasn't complaining about the lack of police transportation.

At noon, more footsteps approached my room. Someone said, "FBI." There was a pause, and then my door opened.

A man entered. He was about fifty, of average height, with thinning charcoal hair overrun with gray. His eyes were the same medium gray as his hair, but they weren't sedate like their shade. They were crackling with intelligence. His companion who closed the door after him was considerably younger, perhaps in his late twenties. He had short brown hair in a buzz cut, and something about the way he carried himself screamed military to me. His eyes were navy blue and fixed on me with steadfast intensity.

"FBI, huh? Well, aren't I honored?" They didn't need extrasensory perception to catch my sarcasm. The younger man shot me a dirty look.

Gray Hair smiled instead, and came forward with hand extended.

"You might not be, but I certainly am. My name is Donald Williams and this is Tate Bradley. I'm the head of a unit in the FBI called the Paranormal Behavior Division."

Grudgingly I shook his hand, years of manners making it impossible to refuse. With a jerk of my head I indicated Tate Bradley.

"What about him? He's not Bureau...no cellulite or spare tire."

Williams laughed, showing teeth slightly discolored from too much coffee or cigarettes.

"That's correct. Tate is a sergeant in the Special Forces, a very select unit of them. He is my bodyguard today."

"Why would you need a bodyguard, Agent Williams? As you can see, I'm handcuffed to the bed." For effect, I rattled my cuffs at him.

He smiled benevolently. "Call me Don, and I'm a cautious man. That's why Tate is carrying a Colt 45."

The younger man flashed me the handle of his gun strapped in its shoulder harness. I smiled thinly at him and he returned it with an unfriendly baring of teeth.

"Okay, I'm shivering. Properly cowed. Now, what do you want?"

Not that I couldn't guess. They probably wanted a confession that I'd killed the governor, a motive, etc., but I intended to clam up and then get the hell out of Dodge. Bones would be coming soon, I had no doubt, and along with my mother, we'd go into hiding. There were still two vampires who'd gotten away, and it would be too dangerous for my mother to remain in public in case there was retribution after the bloodbath Bones and I had unleashed. Both vampire and political.

"You're a college student, getting excellent grades as well, from what we saw. Do you like literary quotes?"

Okay, an intelligence quiz. Not what I'd expected, but I would play along. "Depends."

Don pulled up a chair without invitation and sat next to my bedside. Bradley remained standing, his hand fingering the butt of his gun pointedly.

"How about this one from Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes: When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth."

A warning shiver went through me. These two weren't giving off dangerous vibes, so I didn't think they were more of Oliver's or Hennessey's goons, but they obviously weren't to be taken lightly, either.

"What about it?"

"Catherine, I'm head of a division that investigates the unnatural occurrences of homicides. Now, most people think that every homicide is unnatural in nature, but you and I know they can go even deeper than humanity's wrath against humanity, don't we?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

Don ignored that. "Our division isn't publicly recognized by the Bureau. In fact, we're a combination of CIA, FBI, and the armed forces. One of the few times those groups work in harmony. That's why I selected Mr. Bradley as my backup and not some rookie fresh out of basic. He's been training to head up a new unit of soldiers to fight a very special kind of battle. One that has been waged under our noses on our own soil for centuries. You know of what I speak, Catherine, and you know it better than anyone else. Let's quit being coy. I'm talking about vampires."

Holy Mary, Mother of God, he'd just said the V-word. Now I was more than wary-I was stricken.

"Aren't you a little old to believe in vampires, Don?" Perhaps I could brazen it out. Maybe he was just fishing with a very big piece of bait.