Darius and Conrad were standing near the outside wall of the main wing on the second floor. There was a patch of weak sunlight beside them, streaming in from the nearby window, but they stayed in the shadows. They stood close together, and when the wolfman spoke, he only raised his voice enough to articulate the words.

“I found the bottles.”

“Did you break in?”

“I didn’t have to. The key to our room worked with his.”

The vampire frowned, but he nodded for Conrad to go on.

“Two hard ciders—that’s it. Her scent was only on one of them. It wouldn’t have been enough to make her tipsy.”

“You’re forgetting how light she is.”

“She didn’t even finish it.”

“So it wouldn’t have done more than make her tipsy. Did you smell anything in the bottle?”

“Nothing. The teacher—Turner—handled it twice, but not for long. I tried some of it.”

Darius glared at the wolfman.

Conrad ignored the wordless rebuke. “It wasn’t drugged, Darius. It was just cider.”

The count rubbed his lips with the edge of his thumb.

Conrad knew Darius was thinking, so he tried to stay quiet, but his ears kept twitching back toward his head. He buried his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

“Darius, did Emerra mention that she’d been drinking?”

Darius responded without thinking. “You told me you smelled it on her.”

“No, that’s not—” The wolfman’s ears dipped again. “I meant, did she try to hide it?”

“It’s not illegal, Conrad. And she didn’t have the chance to tell me.” The vampire’s hand fell back to his side, but he kept his eyes fixed on the ground as he asked, “Did you track her in the room?”

Silence.

“Yes.”

Darius raised his eyes to the wolfman.

“She stayed in one place on the couch the whole time,” Conrad said. “Turner was in the armchair.”

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The count’s breath escaped as a relieved sigh. “He finds her on the third floor and invites her in for a drink. She leaves, and she should be fine. Did Turner follow her?”

“No.”

“Was there any one else in the hall?”

“I can’t be sure.”

“Why?”

“It’s a busy hall. The scents get mixed up. Once a scent is covered, it’s harder to gauge times.”

“Give me your best guess.”

Conrad ran a hand over his head, briefly flattening his right ear. “Reisig was there. He’s the only one I’m certain of. I don’t think there was anyone else.”

“Reisig was the one who found her.”

“I followed his trail back. As far as I can tell, he was doing his rounds, like he said.”

Darius murmured, “And there were no signs of injury.”

Conrad waited.

“What do you think?” Darius asked.

“I think that if she ever finds out we were sniffing around her private life, she’s going to be fucking pissed.”

“It’s not like we had much choice, Mr. Bauer.”

The wolfman scowled and looked away.

The phone in Darius’s pocket dinged. He pulled it out, glanced at it, and replaced it. “I have to go. Reisig and Wuller are expecting me. We’ll meet up with Emerra at dinner and get the rest of her story.”

“She doesn’t eat with us,” Conrad grumbled.

“I meant after dinner. It’s not like she could give us a frank report with Wuller nearby.” The count started to walk away, but he stopped after only a step. He stood there, hesitating.

“Conrad, will you keep an eye on her?”

There was another brief silence.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you.”

The two parted ways.

Darius was halfway down the hall when someone called his name. Alex Miller finished climbing the stairs and came down the hall toward him.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Miller,” Darius said. He turned to give the greeting, but he continued walking. “Is Wuller looking for me?”

Miller let out an awkward laugh as he caught up. “Uh, I’m not sure. He didn’t send me.”

“Oh?”

“I was wondering if you knew where Miss Cole was.”

Darius stopped and turned to face the assistant. Miller stopped as well. He squirmed under the vampire’s gaze.

“Only, I…I’d heard, uh, that she was unwell,” Miller stammered. “But when I went to the nurse’s office—”

“Why did you want to see her?”

“Oh!” The young man’s cheeks went pink. He held out a piece of paper with a stiff arm. “I found her notes, and I thought I’d return them to her.”

Darius glanced at the paper. It was folded in quarters, but there was a network of wrinkles that showed, at one time, it had been wadded up.

“How did you know they were hers?” he asked.

“I was with her when she made them, sir.”

“These are the notes from her conversation with you?”

Miller nodded.

The vampire snatched them from Miller, slow enough it wouldn’t look suspicious, but fast enough the young man wouldn’t be able to prevent it.

He motioned to Miller with the paper. “Thank you. That was considerate of you. I’ll be sure that she gets them.”

Miller blinked and lowered his hand. “Ah. Um. Yes, but—”

It was a cruel thing to do, and Darius felt himself to be every inch a bastard.

He feigned surprise. “Oh, did you want to give them to her yourself?”

Miller blushed again. “No. That’s—no, that’ll…be fine. I have work to do. Thank you, Mr. Vasil.”

The assistant headed back to the stairwell. When Darius called his name, he stopped and looked over his shoulder.

The vampire said, “Do you happen to remember where you found this?”

“It was on the ground floor. Near the south wing.”

“Thank you.”

Miller went down the stairs.

Darius needed to hurry, he was already late meeting Wuller, but as he walked, he tried to read Emerra’s nearly illegible writing. A part of his mind wondered how anyone who was printing could have handwriting that bad, but the rest of it was occupied with the question of how the notes could have gotten all the way to the south wing on the ground floor.