House Rules - Chloe Neill Page 0,13

doorman sort of saw.”

“Very long odds of that,” Ethan remarked. “If the glass was broken, surely the vampires out front would have heard it and investigated.”

“Probably,” I agreed, standing up again and dusting my hands on my pants.

The shrill ringing of a cell phone filled the alley. Instinctively I checked my phone, but it was dark and silent.

“Is that yours?” Ethan asked, and I shook my head and scanned the alley, realizing the sound was coming from a few feet away, near a red metal Dumpster.

I walked closer, the sound growing louder, and kicked aside a few windblown bits of trash. A vibrantly pink phone lay on the concrete, flashing as someone tried to reach the phone’s owner.

No—not just someone. The screen flashed with a phone number and name; the caller was Rose, Noah’s Rogue friend. I had a sinking suspicion I knew whose phone this was, and my stomach flipped uncomfortably.

“Noah,” I called out, and felt him move behind me, his nervous energy tickling the air.

“That’s Eve’s phone,” he solemnly pronounced. “I’d know it anywhere. It’s old and does pretty much nothing but take calls, but she refuses to upgrade. Rose is probably trying to reach her—to check on her again. She’s worried. She keeps calling. I’ve told her to stop, but . . .”

I understood that fear, and sympathized. But I didn’t think finding Eve’s phone in an alley signaled very good news.

“Perhaps Eve just dropped it here?” Ethan wondered. “Oliver did call Rose earlier. There’s a chance this is all a misunderstanding.”

Ethan’s tone was optimistic, probably intended to keep Noah calm. And he was right: We really had no idea how or why the phone had ended up here, although it did confirm that Eve had been in the alley. But it also made her and Oliver’s disappearances look less and less like they might be voluntary.

“It seems unlikely she’d have just left it,” Noah said. He rubbed a hand over his face, seeming suddenly exhausted.

The ringing stopped, leaving the alley silent . . . and a little grim.

“Do you have a handkerchief?” Ethan asked. “We’ll want to get it to the Ombud’s office—they have connections—but we don’t want to disturb any evidence.”

He was right. There could be fingerprints or biological material on the phone, evidence that could help us figure out exactly what had gone on.

“Bandanna,” Noah said, pulling one printed in pixilated camouflage from his pocket and handing it over.

Gingerly I picked up the phone with the cloth. While I was gathering evidence, I walked back to the pile of glass and snagged a square. I folded the packet carefully, then looked at Noah.

“I’ll give this to Jeff Christopher, and we’ll have him check Eve’s call log. Maybe there’s a clue about where she might be.”

Jeff was one of my grandfather’s pseudo-employees, an adorable and quirky computer genius. He was also a shape-shifter and member of the North American Central Pack. Along with Catcher, a rogue sorcerer, my grandfather’s admin, Marjorie, and a “secret” Housed vamp I hadn’t heard about in a while, they kept an eye on supernatural comings and goings and helped us manage whatever crises popped up. Since their office had been closed by the mayor, they’d all been working together at my grandfather’s house.

A black cat hopped down from the neighboring yard’s retaining wall, gazed at us warily, and trotted to the Dumpster, presumably to look for a snack. Oblivious to the danger, birds began to chirp nearby, a cheery song that announced the impending break of morning.

I glanced up at the sky. The eastern horizon was just beginning to pale. Sunrise was on its way, which meant we were running out of time. Vampires and sunlight didn’t mix, not without fatal consequences.

Ethan checked his watch. “We’ve not quite an hour before dawn. We should get back to the House.”

“The world continues to turn,” Noah said.

“So it does,” Ethan agreed. “And hopefully for Oliver and Eve, as well.” We walked back toward the alley entrance, the birds singing behind us.

“We’ll find them,” Ethan said.

Noah nodded, but didn’t seem convinced. “I hope so. They’re good kids.”

“We don’t doubt it,” Ethan said. They shook hands, and Noah walked back to his car. We followed and climbed silently into the Bentley.

“Do you really think we’re going to find them?” I asked, leaving unspoken the fear that we’d find them, but too late.

“I don’t know,” Ethan said. “But we will do our damnedest to try.”

Of course we would. But would our damnedest be enough?

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