She just growled at me. Maybe she was missing the cat.
“He goes with you to work,” Connor told her, sipping again.
“Oh, great. Another night with baggage.”
The baggage walked in. He’d paired jeans with a tight-fitting T-shirt that showed off his leanly muscled body.
Connor flicked my ear.
“Stop doing that,” I said, sticking a pointed finger in his face and trying hard not to laugh.
“Stop staring at my Packmate,” he said.
Alexei took the other coffee, looked at us, looked at Lulu, and rolled his eyes. “Ready?” he asked her. Lulu grunted and followed him out.
“Have a good night at work,” I called out, and they both ignored me. Which was probably for the best. I looked at Connor. “What’s on the prince’s agenda for the evening?”
“Helping my girlfriend escape the wrath of the AAM, probably.”
“Good call.”
A buzzer sounded. Doorbell, I assumed, and cast a wary glance back toward the stairs, hand on my dagger. “Expecting someone?”
“As a matter of fact,” Connor said, and I followed him to the front door. And found Petra and Theo smiling through the glass.
* * *
* * *
“Damn nice digs,” Theo said, glancing around as Connor gave them a quick tour. “You have good taste.”
“Thanks,” Connor said. “There’s no coffee left, but—”
“We’re fine,” Theo said, shifting his gaze to me, still full of apology, as we followed Connor into the dining room.
Not the sitting area or the kitchen island, where we’d talked with Alexei and Lulu. Because those were for family. And Petra and Theo weren’t. At least not right now. Not yet.
Petra and Theo exchanged a heavy glance, but pulled out the upholstered chairs around the burled oak table, took seats. They’d understood, too.
I wanted to comfort everyone, but there wasn’t time for it. Not now.
Connor and I sat on the other side of the table, hands linked. And I wondered how many nights we’d sit together and face worries and tragedies. Hopefully always on the same side.
“We found the vehicle used to hit Connor,” Theo said. “It was dumped in the North Branch of the Chicago River. Divers found it during the day.”
“That doesn’t sound like an accident,” I said and squeezed Connor’s hand. “In case we needed any proof this was intentional, we have it.”
Theo nodded. “They’re searching for evidence, fingerprints that weren’t ruined by the swim. The make and model are common, but it happens a vehicle matching the description was stolen from the Brass & Copper building. It belonged to a human found inside a janitorial closet off the building’s lobby. Car key taken, along with a pint of his blood. But he’s alive.”
“A little snack,” I said, fury now hot. “Confirming the person who stole the car—and made an attempt on Connor—was a vampire.” My anger rose again. I’d have preferred the stalker come after me, put me in his sights, instead of taking aim at innocents.
“And because the stalker already took credit for Blake’s death, confirming he was also killed by a vampire,” Theo said.
“Why kill a vampire, try to kill a shifter, and avoid killing a human?” Petra asked. “The human would be the easiest to kill.”
“Because the human didn’t try to hurt me,” I said. “And the stalker’s goal is punishing those who hurt me, or so the notes say. Did the guy see anyone? Or is there video of the attack?”
“No video,” Theo said. “The closet isn’t far from the spot where Blake was killed, and there’s no video in that portion of the building. He remembers seeing a man coming toward him, but that’s it.”
“So male vampire,” I concluded. “Anything new about the origin of the text message?”
“Not yet,” Theo said. “It was routed through an overseas server, and we’re not having much luck getting cooperation on that end.”
“What about the Pedway?” Connor asked.
“Elisa nailed it,” Petra said. “There’s an underground walkway between the Portman Grand and the Brass & Copper. It’s sixty years old and needs repairs, so it’s not accessible to the general public. Used only for employees, maintenance crews, road crews, that kind of thing. At least officially.”
“Officially?” I asked.
“They don’t get supernatural guests very often, but they do tend to mention the Pedway to vampires because the coffee shop in the Portman opens earlier than the one in the hotel.”
“Allowing vamps to get coffee before dawn in safety,” Theo said.
“But wait,” Petra said, holding up a finger. “There’s more. A concierge named Burt, which is such an old-school, conciergey name, recognized Blake from a picture. Says he mentioned the Pedway when the vampires checked in.”
“Mentioned to one of them specifically?” I asked, and she shook her head.
“The group, generally.”
“So coffee kills vampires,” Connor said.
I knew he was trying for humor, but I wasn’t in the place for it. I was glad to be right about the rest—glad to be one step closer to finding the killer—but that didn’t lessen my frustration, or my anger.
“I have a feeling I know what you’re going to say, but was there video of the tunnel perchance?”
“Neither of the access points nor the corridor itself has a camera, probably since they’re supposed to be closed to the general public. But there are sensors on the door that register when it’s used.” Theo consulted something on his screen. “It was opened ten minutes before and four minutes after Blake’s time of death; it hadn’t been opened for hours before that. It was opened ten minutes before the human’s attack, and not again until the next day.”
I sat back, closed my eyes, let what they’d told me percolate a bit. I thought of the stalker, the building, the steps he might have taken to kill his quarry.
“So Blake leaves the Portman Grand sometime before dawn, walks through the Pedway to the Brass & Copper building. He gets coffee. An unknown vampire kills him, and walks back through the Pedway to the Portman. The next night, the killer opens the door, goes through the Pedway into the Brass & Copper building again, drinks from a human, and steals his car. And doesn’t go back through the Pedway.”
“Because he has a vehicle now,” Theo finished. “Good. That’s very good, Lis.”