I’d already gotten more from him than I expected. I should have quit while I was ahead. “Can I ask a personal question?”

He didn’t say yes, but he didn’t say no. He had a great smile, which suddenly made me want to ask what was so funny.

“Are you in training?” I said. “It’s my understanding that some people in your position are serving some kind of apprenticeship, and that they hope to become vampires someday.”

“No, I’m not. I’d miss this too much to ever give it up.” He nodded at the sunlit world. “Anastasia’s offered. To turn me, I mean. But I think I like being alive too much. I stay with her because we’re friends. It’s not so mysterious.”

“I’ve talked to people who’d give a lot to be in your position. Who’d jump at the offer to become a vampire.”

“I listen to your show,” he said. “And no offense, but a lot of your callers are either crazy or looking for attention.”

I decided I really liked Dorian. He’d never call in to my show, because he knew how to fix his own damn problems.

“Yeah,” I said, grinning. “Can’t argue. So what about the immortality? The power? You’re not attracted to that?”

“There’s the price for all that,” he said. “I’ve seen it up close. It’s not worth it.” He glanced away, shaking his head.

“You are wise beyond your years,” I said.

“If you say so,” he said. “Now. Can I ask you a personal question?”

“Fire away.”

“Are you one of those people who went looking for this? Did you want to be a werewolf?”

I said, “If the first question people ask about vampires is ‘How old are you?’ that’s usually the first question people ask lycanthropes.”

“If you don’t want to answer, I understand—”

“I was attacked. I wasn’t looking for it.”

“You seem to have done pretty well with it despite that,” he said.

“It was either that or go completely crazy. I got pretty close to that, by the way.”

He glanced away for a moment. “That’s true of most of this, isn’t it? Cope or go crazy.”

“Any bets on which way Conrad will go when all this finally hits him?”

“He’s a basket case waiting to tip over.”

I giggled. Wouldn’t that be worth the price of admission? I turned back to the door. “I’ll let you enjoy your sunrise. It’s been very nice talking to you, Dorian.”

“Likewise,” he said, with that gorgeous smile.

I left him to his sunny morning. It was hard enough to find a quiet moment of solitude around here without me wrecking it.

Next I called Ben, needing to rant to a friendly ear and hoping to get some outside perspective on whether we were all turning freaky paranoid or if something weird really was going on. Not only was he already awake, he didn’t even let me say hello. “Hey,” he said. “I’ve got something for you. A message from Rick.”

I perked up. “It’s about”—I didn’t even want to say her name—“what I asked you about?”

“Yeah. First he wanted to know if this is the Anastasia who’s medium height, Chinese, with a sense of humor.”

“Yeah, that’s her,” I said.

“Then he knows her. Met her a hundred or so years ago in San Francisco—and can I just mention how surreal it is talking to Rick about this sort of thing?”

“What does he know about her?” This was the jackpot. I hadn’t expected Rick to know Anastasia; I’d been grasping, throwing the name out there hoping he’d have some inkling of her reputation. It turned out vampires moved in a very small world indeed.

“She was the lieutenant of the Master of San Francisco. Sometime in the 1920s, a new Master took over and Anastasia vanished. Rick said he was never sure if she left to save her own skin—or if she’d colluded with the new Master by betraying the old. Since then, he’s caught a rumor of her every decade or so. She tends to keep her head down. He was surprised to hear about her being part of this show. He’s not sure what her game is or where her loyalties are. He says he likes her but doesn’t trust her.”

So much for my paranoia being all in my head. The slice of vampire soap opera didn’t help me much—I’d have preferred a definite “friend” or “enemy” stamp to put on her. Even Rick telling me to get the hell away from her would have been some help.

“Great. Now what?”

“I don’t know. Just keep on sticking it out. Though Rick did say he’d be interested in any good gossip you could pass along.”

“I’m sure he would be. It’ll have to wait until I’ve figured out what’s going on here.”

Ben let out a long-suffering breath in preparation for a speech. It was kind of cute—we’d been married a year, and I could already tell his mood by the sound of his breathing.

“Kitty, have you considered that maybe nothing’s going on? That maybe the whole reality show setup has you paranoid because you’re expecting there to be a plot? Maybe they’re having you on.”

I rubbed my face. All this conspiracy was making me tired. “I hope you’re right.”

He hesitated, then said, “Okay. Now I’m worried. You’re supposed to argue with me.”

I chuckled. I didn’t want to argue. “The thing is, Tina’s really anxious, and she usually knows what she’s talking about.”

“All you can do is keep your eyes open. Kitty, I have to get going. I have to be in Cañon City this afternoon.”

Cormac’s hearing was in the morning. I said, “That’s way more important than my little issues. Break a leg.”

“I’m not sure that’s appropriate here, but thanks. And you be careful.”

“Ha—so you do think something weird’s going on.”

“I’ll talk to you later, Kitty,” he said, still in the long-suffering voice.

Another day in the funhouse began. My project before lunch was to corner Grant and talk to him about Tina. Jeffrey cornered me first, when I was in the middle of a cup of coffee.

“Kitty, can we talk?”

Oh, why me? I’m a werewolf. I was supposed to be a scary monster, not everyone’s favorite confidante.