Jude nodded. “He doesn’t strike me as the type to make decisions lightly. For him to want more than just some fun with you, he must really like what he sees so far.”

“Maybe,” I allowed. “But being with Salem would be really hard for both of us. I mean, he’s super, super intense. He’ll walk all over me if I let him. Which I won’t, so that’ll cause lots of arguments because he likes to have his own way.”

“He’d get bored with a woman who didn’t push back.” Alora sighed. “Evan’s the same. He tries to take over all the time, only he’s smooth and subtle about it. When I call him on it, he just shrugs and smiles. I can’t get mad at him when he smiles at me like that.”

“He still pressuring you to Bind with him?” Jude asked.

“Every damn day.” Alora wasn’t yet ready for that, since her last attempt at Binding went completely tits up. She wanted them to know each other much better first, and to be sure what they had was solid. I could understand that. “But if he gave up, he wouldn’t be Evan.”

I smiled at her. “Sorry, I know he’s yours and everything, but I have to say Evan is, like, achingly gorgeous.”

The redhead’s smile matched mine. “Oh, I know. He’s got a real talented mouth, too.”

I leaned forward. “Ooh, do tell.”

(Salem)

As Sam requested, I came to the office that she shared with Jared in the main building of The Hollow. Before the attack a few months ago, the mansion had been solely Antonio’s home. He’d offered it to Sam and Jared when they ascended, but the couple felt that it was too much Antonio’s, and they didn’t feel right asking him to move out.

As such, the pair lived on the beach in a house that Antonio had had built for them. The mansion was now split into two, at his request; half was his ‘living quarters’, and half was office space – complete with conference rooms – for Sam and Jared. Antonio had felt that such space should be in the centre of the community, thus placing significance on the pair’s role and status.

Sam and Ryder were in the office, sitting either side of her desk. When I entered, she smiled. “All right, Salem. Take a seat.” She gestured to the chair next to Ryder.

I’d met Ryder only a handful of times, since his bloodlust wasn’t yet under total control so he didn’t mingle much. I’d liked him well enough…right up until I heard Ava describe him as ‘pretty’. My jealous ‘How the hell can a guy be pretty?’ question had been met with ‘He has such soft features and emerald-green eyes’. So now I kind of hated him, which was why I only gave him a brusque nod – something he seemed to find amusing.

“It turns out Marge was telling the truth about the owner of the brothel.” Sam twirled her pen between her fingers in a fidgety movement. “All that was left in her memory was a vague silhouette; no features, no name, no hint of what breed of vampire she could be. Marge doesn’t even remember how she came to be hired. I told Ryder everything you told me, so he’s going to take a look at your memories.”

Ryder turned to me. “If the weak silhouette in your mind matches the one I saw in Marge’s memory, we’ll know this is the same person.”

“I strongly recommend you don’t go looking anywhere else in my head.”

He gave me a solemn nod. “I can assure you that I have no intention of doing so – if for no other reason than it takes up energy I’d rather not waste.”

I grunted. “Fair enough.”

“It’ll be easier and faster if you can bring what memories you have to the forefront of your mind – even if they’re unclear. Think about the times you glimpsed her, what she was doing.”

Concentrating hard, I dug up my memories of the woman. I almost lost my hold on them when I felt Ryder’s presence in my head. It didn’t hurt, but it was fucking weird. Like having a hand inside my skull, rooting around.

After a few moments, Ryder pulled back. “It’s the same woman.”

Sam began fiddling with her pen again. “Salem, you say your Sire worked for her?”

“Yes.”

“It’s possible that we could track her through him.”

“Could he really tell us anything about her that we don’t already know, considering her gift protects her?” I somehow doubted it.

“Maybe he might not be able to tell us anything new about her. But he could remember anyone who worked alongside her.”

“Marge has memories of two Pagoris who were the woman’s – and this was Marge’s word for them – lackeys,” Ryder informed me. “Oddly, though, their faces were just as vague.”

I frowned. “So if someone’s with the woman, her gift protects their identity too?”

“Possibly,” replied Sam. “It could be that she acts as a type of shield, like Butch. All she would need to do is touch or stand very close to them for her gift to protect them, if that’s the case.” She shrugged. “The thing is that the brothel has only been up and running for six months. I’m guessing your Sire’s fighting club has existed for much longer.”

I nodded. “Years.”

“Then it’s possible that at some point, she made a mistake. She didn’t shield one of her ‘lackeys’ or sent them in her place. If so, your Sire would have their names and faces in his brain.”

If Sam thought I could contact him and he’d helpfully tell us what he knew, she was going to be disappointed. “He and I parted on bad terms.” I hadn’t heard from Will since I left for the try-outs. He hadn’t been too pleased about it, had taken it personally. There hadn’t been any yelling. Will rarely lost his cool. But his rage and sense of betrayal had vibrated along our blood-link.

“You think he’ll be difficult?”

I shook my head. “He’ll give you information if you ask for it. But he’ll want something in return. Will never does anything for nothing.”

“Do you think it’s possible that he had any involvement in the brothel?”

“No. Will’s a lot of things, and he’s capable of a lot of things. But although he’s not big on following laws, he has his own set of principles and he sticks to them. He believes it’s wrong to hurt women and children.”