The elevator doors opened. I motioned for Sean to wait as I jotted down an e-mail address.

“This is Savannah’s,” I said. “If you ever want to say hi, introduce yourself, this might be the easiest way to do it. If you’d rather not, I understand.”

He took the paper. “I’ll do that. I’d like to…make contact. It’s not right, ignoring her.” He folded the sheet into quarters and tucked it into his wallet. As he did, he looked down at a tattered photograph in his ID holder. “You wouldn’t have a picture of her, would you?”

“Sure do.” I took out my wallet, and flipped through my card holder, which was filled with photos. “Someday I need to break down and buy a purse-size photo album, like those little old ladies who show you all their grandchildren while you’re waiting in line at the bank.”

I took out two. One was Savannah on her first-ever horseback ride that summer; the other was Savannah, Lucas, and Adam shooting hoops near our place last month.

“Cute kid,” he said, smiling. “Definitely got Dad’s eyes.”

“You can keep that one,” I said, pointing to the horseback photo. “I have it on file at home.”

He thanked me and we said our good-byes.

I returned to our room to find Cassandra and Jaime sitting at opposite ends of the sofa, Jaime reading her latest magazine, Cassandra coiled to pounce the moment I walked in.

“So the killer is targeting Cabal families?” she said. “The Nasts first, and now the Boyds?”

I gave her a very brief rundown of the events to date.

“The grandson of a CEO?” Her frown deepened. “So it’s a revenge crime.”

“Uh, yes. That’s what we—”

Lucas opened the bedroom door.

“Did you get hold of your father?” I asked.

Lucas nodded. “He’s on his way to the hotel with a team. I told him we’ll be arriving shortly, and he’s promised to clear the way for us. That should be simple enough. I suspect anyone with the authority to challenge him will already be out searching for Tyler. Shall we go?”

Cassandra stood and picked up her purse.

“Uh-uh,” I said. “This is very serious—”

“I realize that, Paige. You’re looking for a missing person. A vampire is a far better tracker than a shaman.”

I hesitated and glanced at Lucas. He nodded.

“Good,” Cassandra said. “You can explain the rest of this matter on the way.”

Predatory Insight

LUCAS HAD RENTED A CAR THE MORNING BEFORE, SO WE no longer needed to borrow Jaime’s. She stayed behind in the hotel room and promised to call if anyone else showed up. Now, normally, if we have a guest in the car, I’ll sit in the backseat. It’s only polite. ButCassandra brings out the rude in me, so I slipped into the front passenger seat and left her to wrinkle her Donna Karan in the cramped rear.

It took us an infuriating forty-five minutes to reach the Boyds’ hotel. Not only was it on the other side of the city, but we hit gridlock in a construction zone and might have been even later if Lucas hadn’t navigated an alternate route down back roads.

On the way, I gave Cassandra a fuller overview. When we pulled into the hotel parking lot, she was still asking questions.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Lucas said. “At the risk of offending you, Cassandra, I must ask that you, again, not reveal—”

“I have no intention of letting them know what I am.”

“Thank you.”

“It might be even better if Cassandra waited here,” I said. “Until we start searching.”

“Good idea. Cassandra, if you—”

The door banged shut. She was already striding toward the building.

“Or maybe not,” I said.

“If we don’t impede her involvement, perhaps she’ll satisfy her curiosity faster.”

“And go home faster?”

He gave a small smile. “That would be the idea.”

Troy met us in the parking lot, then escorted us into the hotel, which looked more like a luxury condo complex than any temporary lodgings I’d ever seen.

From the outside of Tyler Boyd’s second-floor suite, one would never guess a murder had recently been committed there or that a crime-scene team was ripping the room apart. Only when the door opened did the noise within escape.

Two men were working in the living area, one taking photos and the other running a handheld vacuum over the sofa. A third man appeared from a back room, carrying what looked like a laptop case. He exchanged a hasty hello with Lucas, then hurried out the door.

The murdered half-demon guard lay sprawled across the remains of the coffee table, covered in glass shards and wood splinters. His head was twisted to the side, face fixed in a grimace. I fought the urge to look away from that dead stare. Beside me, Cassandra leaned over the corpse, eyes studying it with detachment. I tried to emulate her, to see this body not as a person but as a piece of evidence.

At first I thought the guard’s throat had been cut. Then I saw a length of wire draped over his neck and realized he’d been strangled with it.

“Our coroner believes that was done postmortem.”

Benicio’s voice came from behind us. He looked at Cassandra. His gaze passed over her with curiosity, and perhaps a little interest, but when we didn’t introduce her, he didn’t ask. Maybe he trusted Lucas’s judgment. Or maybe, knowing his son’s eclectic collection of contacts, he didn’t want to ask.