Jaime scrambled to her feet, then hesitated. Her fingers went to the side of her neck.

“Vampire saliva stops the bleeding,” I said.

“Oh,” Jaime said, face reddening.

She swayed. Lucas caught her before she fell and guided her over to the chair, which I reclined before she sat down. When she tried to sit upright, I gently restrained her.

“Lie down. You lost a lot of blood. Lucas, could you—”

He stepped through the cabin door bearing a large glass and a carton of juice.

“Perfect,” I said. “Thanks.”

As I helped Jaime drink some of the juice, Benicio asked whether we thought a blood transfusion should be arranged. Cassandra said it wasn’t necessary, that the amount of blood Jaime lost would replace itself without intervention. She’d know, I guess, so we took her word for it. When Jaime finished the juice she lay down and closed her eyes.

“They aren’t supposed to do that,” she mumbled.

“Do what?” I asked.

She yawned. “Kill the messenger.”

Another half-yawn, then Jaime’s face went slack. I put my fingers to her neck. Her pulse was steady. I pulled the blanket up over her and turned to the others.

“She’s right,” I said, keeping my voice low. “No matter how upset the ghost might be, it makes no sense to try to kill Jaime. She’s the only one it has any hope of communicating with.”

“Unless it knew she wouldn’t die,” Lucas said. “If so, then one could construe it as a message of sorts, telling us that it not only knows of Cassandra, but recognizes her by sight and knows that a vampire can stop blood flow.”

“It’s a vampire,” Cassandra said.

“Not necessarily,” I said. “It knew that you could stop the bleeding—any supernatural who’s studied vamps knows that. As for the bite marks, they were probably intentionally vampirelike, to drive home its point about you.”

“They weren’t vampire like. They were vampire.”

“But—”

“I know the bite of a vampire, Paige. I also know that there is one in this room besides me. I’ve been around long enough that I can recognize my own kind faster than you can recognize a sorcerer.”

“If our ghost is—or was—a vampire, that would explain why it can’t make contact with Jaime,” Lucas said. “It’s trying to do the impossible.”

I gave a slow nod. “Meaning that necromancers never hear from dead vampires, not because they don’t exist, but because wherever they exist, they’re beyond contact. So now we probably know one thing about our ghost. That’s a start.”

“Two things,” Jaime murmured, her eyes still closed. “It’s a vamp and it’s a she.”

Cassandra,Lucas, and I exchanged a look.

“Natasha,” I whispered. “She’s not missing. She’s dead.”

The Curse of Clear Vision

“WHEN EDWARD ATTACKED DANA, HE SAID HE WAS DOING it for someone,” I said. “Someone she heard as ‘Nasha.’” I looked at Benicio. “Something stopped the Nasts from putting an office in Cincinnati. A problem that needed to be cleared up first. Would a local pair of serial-killing vampire immortality questers count?”

He gave a slow nod. “A Cabal always investigates the local supernaturals before building a new office. If they have minor concerns, they usually persuade the offenders to relocate. But in a case such as this, on this scale, particularly one that involves vampires…the solution would be a permanent one.”

“Kill them.”

“Let me make some phone calls,” Benicio said. “Before we jump to any conclusions.”

“So now you think the Nasts will tell you the truth?”

“No, but with this much detail to prompt their memories, I know people who will.”

A half-hour later Benicio confirmed our suspicions. The Nast Cabal had learned of Edward and Natasha’s murderous hobby, and decided they wouldn’t make good neighbors. According to Benicio’s sources, the original plan had been to kill both, but the vampires had outwitted several assassins and fled the country. Unwilling to accept failure so easily, the Cabal sent out one last hit man, who’d managed to behead Natasha. The Nasts then made a mistake. They decided not to spend any more money chasing Edward around the globe. By killing his mate, they’d taught him a lesson he’d not soon forget. And he hadn’t.

“They killed Natasha, and he wants revenge,” I said. “Understandable…when it comes to attacking the Nasts. But what do the other Cabals have to do with it?”

Lucas looked at his father. “A vampire asked for a private meeting with you in July. The Nasts executed Natasha at the end of August. Presumably, if several assassination attempts had been made, the Nasts had been chasing the pair for at least a month. I would say that the timing of that request wasn’t coincidental.”

“Edward wanted to speak to the Cortez CEO?” I said. “But why?”

“Presumably to request sanctuary,” Lucas said. “That’s not uncommon. If you are pursued by one Cabal, the best place to go for help is to another Cabal. If the Boyds and St. Clouds were being honest with us, I suspect they’d admit to similar requests.”

“In other words, he went to each of the Cabals for help, and they each turned him down, wouldn’t even find out what he wanted. And that pissed him off enough to start killing their kids? This doesn’t make sense.”