twenty-four hours to upfit the copter as a bomb.”
“Do you think someone actually flew it into the house?”
Teag shrugged. “Looks likely, but the Feds aren’t saying much – though there was an extra body near the ’copter wreckage.”
“What about Patsy and Ben and Anna?” I asked. “Any word on how they are?”
Teag nodded. “I hacked into the EMT report. Patsy and Ben were treated for smoke inhalation and Ben had a concussion. Anna was fine.”
“Did they tell anyone they had seen us?”
“Not according to the reports that have been filed so far,” Teag replied. “I’d expect Sorren’s staff to be trained not to volunteer information. Patsy and Ben weren’t really up to doing much talking, and Anna was mostly worried about the other two staff members in the house.”
“Can they trace the property back to Sorren?”
Teag chuckled. “As the original owner back in 1670, but since then, the land has passed through a maze of holding companies and trusts. It would take a team of lawyers a lifetime to unsnarl the ownership – which is what I’m sure Sorren intended.”
“Anything else?” I was feeling the effects of the day and the wine, and I wanted to know whether Sorren was dead or alive.
“Yeah – and it wasn’t what I was looking for,” Teag replied. “The NSA measured two big EMF spikes in the last two weeks near Charleston, and the base EMF frequencies jumped up ten percent above normal after the spikes.”
“The souped-up ghost activity,” I said, meeting his gaze. “And two big spikes could mean magical events that did something to cause that baseline jump.”
Teag nodded. “That was my suspicion, although of course the NSA is more worried about terrorists.”
I didn’t protest as Teag refilled my wine glass. “We’ve got plenty of pieces, but no idea what the puzzle picture looks like. And I think Mr. Thompson and Mrs. Teller and everyone else who has been warning us about a storm coming are right. Something big is building, but what?” And how do we fight it if Sorren is really gone?
Teag was just getting ready to go after supper when I heard a knock at the front door. Most people ring the bell at the door on the side of the piazza, since it’s generally considered that the porch is part of the house itself, so it would be rude to walk in uninvited. Unless you’ve got a good reason not to want to be seen, I thought, jumping up to answer the door with my heart pounding. I stopped long enough to grab Alard’s walking stick and ready the collar on my left wrist, just in case there was trouble. Teag was right behind me, ready for a fight. No one should have been able to get through the wardings, but with everything that had been going on, I wasn’t taking any chances.
Sorren stood on the porch looking as if he had clawed his way out of a grave. His skin was streaked with soot and dirt, and his blond hair was dirty and tangled. Along his arms and on his face I could see newly-healed cuts. His color was normal, suggesting that he had fed, but he looked on the verge of collapse.
“Come in – quickly!” I said, worried about his condition and elated that he had survived. He was limping, which for a vampire could mean anything from broken bones to internal injuries that would kill a mortal. But he was still in one piece, and that was good enough.
“You fed?” Teag asked as Sorren staggered to the couch and sat down. In an emergency, Teag has supplied blood for Sorren to heal.
Sorren nodded. “From the horses,” he said, and managed a scratchy chuckle. “Don’t worry about them – they’re fine. But I needed blood quickly, and they were close by. Healing requires more blood than a normal feeding.”
“You were in the basement when the house exploded?” I asked.
Sorren nodded. “My crypt wasn’t damaged. Unfortunately, the passageways to the surface collapsed. It made leaving very difficult.”
“How did you survive the fire?” Teag asked.
“The crypt was deep enough, and insulated enough, that it kept the flames at bay. The heat, however, nearly got the best of me.” Sorren’s gaze was haunted. “And although I survived, two of my people were not so lucky.” I could hear the sorrow in his voice. “They had been with me for fifty years.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said.
“Anna said you were there, when the explosion happened,” Sorren said, raising his gaze to