off my face, leaned in conspiratorially. “You tried to hit Connor?”
“Maybe,” he said, pleasure on his cheeks.
“To protect me,” I said, and he nodded, looked relieved.
“Just like I’m protecting you right now,” he said, “from that roughneck you’ve been spending time with. I don’t get why you’re dating a dog. You could have any vampire you wanted. After all I tried to do for you—getting you on the right path, saving you from the den of iniquity you grew up in.”
I blinked in feigned confusion. “The den of iniquity? You don’t like Cadogan House?”
“They wouldn’t let me in,” he said, his laugh a bubble of madness.
I stared at him. “What?”
“They wouldn’t let me in. I applied. I wanted to be in Chicago; it was close to home. They let you run wild, but they wouldn’t let me in.”
My parents hadn’t said a thing. Had they known, but not told me? No. They absolutely would have. So, assuming he was telling the truth, they hadn’t made the connection.
“Clive said the House was never good enough for me,” Levi continued, “that it was full of lawlessness and disrespect. But look at me now. Now I’m here, in your place, with you. I’ve come full circle.”
How much, I wondered, had Clive fed his brother’s madness? His obsessions? Clive had to have known. A man this troubled didn’t go through life without family noticing. Without having hurt someone before. Was that why Clive was so focused on rules? On control? Because that’s how he kept Levi in line?
“So you know I’d decided to stay in Chicago,” I prompted, trying to keep him talking.
“Of course. I’m older than you, had to wait for you to grow up. But then you were in Paris, and I had to wait for you to come back here. And now we’re here together.”
And now I was creeped out in a completely new way. I had to get out.
“We could make it work,” I said, softening my voice. “I didn’t know you were . . . ready for that kind of relationship. We could leave here right now, and be together. Just me and you.”
I could see that he wanted to believe it, the struggle on his face as truth and falsity warred in his troubled mind. But he shook his head. “You chose them over me. You’re a traitor, just like Clive said.”
“He called me a traitor?” I actually made my lip quiver.
“You picked the shifters,” Levi said again, emphasizing each word with a shake of the knife.
“But I didn’t,” I said and nodded to the room. “It’s just me and you in here right now. I didn’t know you’d be here, that you would be waiting for me. But that was a nice surprise.”
He watched me for a moment, hope blooming. “Really?”
“Of course. Shifters are really rough. They don’t have nearly as much class as vampires.”
The scrape of metal on metal rose up from the street, and my blood went cold. Connor. But even as my heart pounded, I had to fight not to struggle. If I broke character, I knew I’d lose Levi, and have no chance to get out of here—or to get to Connor.
He can take care of himself, I repeated silently, a mantra, and nodded, all the while working to loosen my bonds, even as fabric scraped raw skin. I frowned, feigned confusion. “But what about Blake? Why did I need protecting from him?”
In a flash, the pleasure was replaced by anger again. “He hated you even more than Clive. Wanted to tear you apart. He played nice, sure, but that was just his play. His face. Sometimes we wear faces that aren’t who we really are.”
Like the innocuous vampire who showed up outside my door the night of the party, I thought. Like you.
“What about Miranda?”
“The girl who turned you in?”
“The girl . . .” was as far as I made it before my own fury exploded, and brought the monster with it.
It hadn’t been a shifter from Minnesota who’d called the AAM. It had been Miranda. She’d set all of this—the AAM, the stalker, Connor’s injuries, Blake’s death—in motion. Oh, we were going to have some fucking words, Miranda and me.
“Did you attack her? That girl?” My voice was shaking now as anger burned. I pushed one wrist against the other, trying to force one hand through the fabric, and wanted to scream with frustration.
“No,” Levi said, oblivious to my struggle. “She brought me here to you. Why would I?”