Sera’s staff. “You can all swear that Miss MacBride was at home between five and six in the morning?” Graham said in disbelief.
“They stayed the night,” Sera explained. “We were in the middle of something and finished late. It seemed easiest.”
“Did Mr. Blair also stay the night?”
“Yes,” Sera said boldly.
“Is he here now?” Lennox enquired. “We’d like to ask him a few questions.”
“No, he’s not here now.”
“When did he leave?”
That, Sera realized, pretending to think about it, was a tricky question to answer. If she told the truth, she could be incriminating him; if she said she’d been asleep and didn’t know, it put her own alibi at risk.
Jilly said, “I think he went about five-thirty. I heard him go downstairs.”
The officers exchanged glances that could have meant anything.
Sera said, “You really think he had something to do with this fire?”
“We need to talk to him,” Graham said stolidly.
“Oh, I can cut off a lot more than that.” Smith’s words suddenly began to make sense. “Did someone give you his name?” she asked. “If so, I have to tell you it was probably malicious.”
“Oh, I doubt that,” Lennox said dryly. “He was seen and recognized at the scene by a police officer.” She took a card from her pocket and shoved it into Sera’s nerveless fingers. “Ask him to contact us on that number, will you? Or if you have any information, let us know immediately.”
“Of course,” Sera said vaguely.
****
There was no way she could stay away. No assurances that he’d be asleep or warnings that she’d only lead the cops straight to him could prevent her. She took a circuitous route via several shops, every sense on high alert to make sure she wasn’t followed. But in the end, she stood outside Blair’s house, ringing the bell in vain. Both doors were locked. And yet she knew he was in there. She could sense him.
At last, she decided to try the basement door one last time, and if he wouldn’t open it, she’d do her best to pick the lock.
She thumped the door a few more times, to absolute silence.
Then she opened her bag and rummaged for a nail file. Fortunately, the street was quiet, and she could see no one obvious at the opposite windows. Bending to the lock, she began to insert the file, just as the door opened and a woman in colorful hippy clothes emerged, trailing long, cotton scarves and chunky jewelry. She gave Sera a vague smile as they passed in the doorway, then walked up the steps and turned right toward Prince’s Street.
Sera gazed unhappily after her. Her stomach felt knotted with stress. Or distress. Although she’d seen no wounds on the girl, she was damned sure Blair had drunk from her. Did he fuck her as well?
More lowering than anything else was that she felt more jealousy than anxiety for the victim.
“Sick old bat,” she told herself and went into the house. Closing the door behind her, she stepped forward into the dark hallway.
“Blair?” she called. “This isn’t a social call. I need to talk to you.”
Something moved at the top of the stairs—no more than a silent shadow. Swallowing, grasping the stake in her pocket, Sera walked toward the stairs. With all her senses, she reached into every room downstairs. She knew he was on the next floor.
She began to climb the stairs. “Blair, what are you doing?” she demanded. “It’s me! The police are looking for you! What’s going on?”
Something clicked upstairs. She felt a tiny frisson of fresh air.
The bastard had left by the other door. She bolted to the top of the stairs and ran to the front door, tearing it open. There was no one in the street, apart from a biker, all leather and helmet, disappearing round the corner.
“Sewer or smoking blanket?” Jilly had asked sardonically.
Motorbike.
Sera’s skin prickled. Was that really how he got around in daylight? Was that Blair she’d just seen? Probably. She could no longer feel him in the house. But she could sense vampire.
Her heart hammering in her breast, she closed the door without shutting it tight, and walked slowly down the hall, past the sitting room she’d been in before, and on to the door that stood ajar. She touched it.
Vampire. Everything screamed at her. She took the stake from her pocket and pushed open the door.
Nothing leapt at her.
The vampire lay on a large, four-poster bed. Behind curtains and shutters, a solitary candle burned, but the vampire didn’t move. His