Page 92 of Bought for Blood

“You’ll take it because of what comes with it.” I hold it where he has to look at it. “If I’m not out by dawn, you go to my house before dark, and you take her to Aurora.”

“Her.”

“Viktor will take her in. And Crowe—there are people in this yard tonight who will want her the moment they hear her name. Get her through the door before anyone does.”

“And after that?”

“After that, she’s yours to look out for. She’s twenty-three. She has a whole life ahead of her, and somebody has to stand behind her for it.” I push the envelope against his chest until he takes it. “I have made a study of who keeps their word. The list is short, and you’re on it.”

He holds the envelope without looking down at it.

“You’ve never said her name to me.”

“No. And I’m not going to say it in this yard.”

“I don’t need you to.” He puts the envelope inside his coat, and he takes a long time doing it. “I’ve known since you told me people were asking about Sangrey blood. I just wanted to see if you’d trust me with it.”

“I’m trusting you with everything else.”

“You are.” He pauses. “Don’t go in,” he says.

“That’s the fourth time you’ve said it.”

“I’ll say it a fifth.”

“I know what you think of the plan.”

“Then say the word, and I’ll take it to Viktor myself.”

“No.”

He puts his hand out. I take it. He holds on a second past the point where the gesture is finished, then lets go and turns back to the fence.

“Fenwick,” he says. “Twice.”

“Twice.” I pause. “Crowe…”

“What?”

“You’re a good man.”

“For a Turned, you mean?”

“For anyone.”

The gate is open before my car reaches it.

I’ve been coming up this drive since the fall, and it has never stood open. There are men at it, same as always. But the floodlights on the poles are off. Only the two nearest the doorsare burning, which puts the whole yard in darkness and puts me in the light when I get out of the car.

Vasile is on the steps in a suit I’ve never seen him wear.

“My lord.” The bow goes lower than usual, and his heart is loud enough that I can hear it from the car. “The house is honored. Ecaterina has asked after you twice this evening.”

“Then we shouldn’t keep her.”

The lobby smells of bleach.

Only bleach. Every time I’ve walked through this building there has been blood underneath it—stale and thin, working up through the stone from the ward two floors down. Twenty people bleed into a building for long enough, and the building keeps it.