Thanks to an unfortunate quirk of my family tree, I'm stuck serving an arrogant and dangerous vampire who looks like a luxury menswear ad and thinks humans are livestock. Lately, though, he's been looking at me like I might be something more than his latest Renfield.
When a new body turns up-death by crossbow bolt-I'm relieved.
Not that death is good. But at least now there's a killer for Alexandru and me to hunt...which means he'll have someone to drain who isn't a friend.
The investigation should be straightforward.
It isn't.
Every pattern falls apart. Every lead points somewhere new. It requires the mother of all spreadsheets-but the deeper we dig, the more it feels like I'm missing something obvious. Which I hate, because spreadsheets are my love language, and I do not miss obvious things.
Meanwhile, Alexandru is asking questions that are none of his business. Taking off his gloves in a way that should honestly be illegal. And worst of all, acting like I'M under HIS protection. How is that a thing?
I thought the most dangerous thing in my life was the killer we're hunting.
Now I'm not so sure.