Their timing impeccable, liveried staff in dark pants and short jackets emerged silently from the house, took our bags and keys, and whisked Moneypenny down the driveway.
How very upstairs/downstairs, Ethan said.
My father would be jealous, I agreed. Although my grandfather had been a cop, my father was obsessed with money. Perhaps not surprisingly, he was very good friends with Papa Breck.
"Where will we be staying?" I asked.
"The carriage house. You got permission from the big man to stay, but he drew the line at your being in the house." Finn gestured toward the gravel walk, which led around the house to a series of secondary buildings.
Ethan looked unimpressed with our demotion from the main house, which did ring of supernatural pettiness. But we were here because we didn't have a better option. I thought it was best not to look that particular gift horse (shifter?) in the mouth.
The carriage house was a small brick building, its sides marked by dark green shutters around the windows that had once been doors for cars or carriages. The building was just behind the main house, completely invisible from the road and the driveway. The carriage house might have felt like an insult to Ethan, but it would be a secure location to spend a few quiet nights on the lam.
Finn pushed a key into the lock and opened the door. "Please come in."
The invitation wasn't strictly necessary—that particular bit of vampire myth was actually myth—but we preferred not to trespass.
The carriage house had been outfitted like a small apartment, with hardwood floors, colorful furnishings and décor, and a ceiling striped by large oak beams. There was a sitting area and a small kitchenette, and a door that led to what I guessed was a bedroom. The Brecks hadn't spared any expense on the décor. Books and orchids were arranged just so on a coffee table, knickknacks placed here and there, one wall covered in a mix of line drawings and paintings in gilded frames.
"Pop uses the place for visiting board members," Finn said, stepping inside and surveying the living room, hands on his hips. "Kitchen's stocked with blood and food, so you should find everything you need here."
He pointed to a keypad beside the door. "The entire house is rigged to the security system, which is hooked up to the main house. There's also an intercom in case you run into trouble."
I glanced around, didn't see a back door. "Is this the only door in and out?"
Finn smirked. "Yes. And I see Nick wasn't kidding—you really are a vampire fighter now."
"All night long," I said, gesturing toward the windows. "What about those?"
"Ah." Finn pressed a button on the keypad. Segmented plates descended across the windows, covering them completely. With those guards in place, we'd be safe from sunlight and marauders.