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The blade remained in my hand. The cloth still. The message replayed automatically. I could almost hear the hunger in his tone.

“Last known location confirmed⁠—”

I ended it.

Too soon.

My gaze didn’t return to the blade.

It stayed on the doorway. The longer I stared, the deeper that hunger moved.

Footsteps.

Sure.

Heavy.

I tore my gaze away, finishing the slide of the edge as Rafe’s steps grew louder, then entered and stopped.

“You ready?”

“For what.”

“Your appointment.”

My hand stilled, then slowly placed the cloth down. “I don’t have an appointment.”

“Yes, you do.”

I lifted my head. There was room in his tone. I picked up the blade, placing it exactly where it belonged. There was no adjusting this time. No hesitation. I rose, pocketed my cell and followed him out of the study to the front of the house. Silence lingered behind me. But it wasn’t empty. It held substance now. It held essence.

The car was already waiting. Engine idling, filling the air with the bitter tang. Rafe opened the door, leaving me to slip inside. He closed the door and climbed in, pulling the car away in an instant. There was no detour. No slowing. The man drove like he didn’t waste a second leaving the quiet of the countryside behind and headed into the city.

You said I could be in the library.

Those words lingered.

My breath stilled.

I didn’t like it anymore.

I wanted to change the rules.

No library.

But it was too late. She was already inside. Already touching. Already tainting the air. The car slowed, turning sharply. I forced my attention to the sway. To the muffled sound outside the car. The familiar echo of the underground parking lot.

Rafe pulled up. Switched off the car. Climbed out. I hit the release for the seatbelt as the door opened. Steps controlled. Senses divided from the steady thud of Rafe’s steps to the world around me. The sound of car engines dying. The rush of elevator doors. The female chatter ending instantly.

I didn’t look down. Turning to hold my stare at the doors as they closed. Silence wasn’t empty. It tasted like fear. The elevator shuddered, rising until it gave a soft ding and stopped.

Rafe moved first. I followed, feeling the rush of warm air hit me as I stepped inside.

“Four to your left.” Rafe murmured.

I moved. Counted. Then stopped and sat. The room came to life around me. A woman across from me. Her perfume loud and desperate. A receptionist behind a counter. Her energy muffled until she rose.

“Mr. Hennessy?” Rafe’s voice louder than anything else.