Page 14 of Fang Fatale

Like she's deciding whether I'm part of the problem.

Then she slips back inside.

The door closes with a soft click.

Somehow...

I feel dismissed.

I wait.

Five minutes.

Ten.

The rain settles into a patient drizzle, soaking through my coat while Leland remains on the porch, saying whatever men like Leland always think will solve things if they say them long enough.

Eventually he leaves.

No shouting.

No dramatic confrontation.

Just another expensive suit disappearing down a muddy path that clearly resents having to support Italian leather.

I stay where I am a few minutes longer, watching the cottage.

Nothing.

No movement behind the curtains.

No second trip outside.

No magical explosion.

If they're planning an exorcism, an intervention, or a flash mob...

They're keeping it indoors.

Which leaves me with exactly three facts.

Birdie Longfellow is here.

Someone has wrapped Button Cottage in a ward clever enough to keep out a vampire detective.

And Leland Brooks knows far more than he admitted when he hired me.

The first two make me curious.

The third makes me nervous.

That's usually when things get interesting.

CHAPTER 4

BIRDIE

It’s a monstrous cliché, but I wake to the sensation of being watched.