The sofa cushion shifts beneath me as Maeve's fingers trace absent patterns along my arm. It's like she doesn't even realize she's doing it, this unconscious need to maintain physical contact with me at all times. I'm not complaining.
Emily sits across from us, her posture military-straight as she flips through a manila folder. The warm lamp glow makes her look almost human, softening the sharp edges of her face. Almost.
"The identity came up as Mair Belmont," Emily announces, sliding a photograph across the coffee table.
I lean forward to study the image. It's her, the woman from the parking garage. Blue hair and all.
"Obviously a fake name," Emily continues. "We've run it through every database we have access to. Nothing substantial before three years ago."
Maeve's fingers pause on my forearm, tightening slightly. "What about her connections to the Hunters Guild?"
"That's just it," Emily says, looking genuinely perplexed. "She doesn't seem to be with them. She wasn't carrying any of their weapons or usual arsenal."
I swallow hard, the memory of her weight on top of me flashing through my mind. "So she was just some random psycho who happened to be a dhampir?"
"Not random," Emily corrects, pulling out another document. "She had surveillance equipment on her. A wire, but it wasn't recording, just transmitting. We couldn't trace who she was sending the audio and video feed to."
"For Christ's sake," Maeve hisses, her nails digging into my skin now. "She knew exactly how to track you to the apartment."
Emily clears her throat. "I believe I was her target. Not Vincent."
Maeve's eyes narrow dangerously. "I see."
The room falls silent. I watch Maeve's face as she processes this information, her crimson eyes focused on some distant point beyond the walls of the penthouse. The muscles in her jaw work silently, teeth grinding against each other.
"And the blood?" she finally asks. "The vial she used on you?"
Emily's fingers drum against the folder as she meets Maeve's gaze. "It was taken from one of the married vampires she killed," she says grimly. "Analysis shows traces of their blood mixed with other compounds. Based on the formulation..." She hesitates. "She has extensive knowledge of blood sorcery that could only have been taught by someone of our kind."
"True," Maeve says thoughtfully, her cool fingers resuming their dance along my arm. "She's working with a vampire, then."
The words bubble up from my throat before I can stop them. "When she was... when she had me pinned down, she screamed that you killed her parents."
Maeve just shrugs, her crimson eyes untroubled. "I've killed a lot of people's parents, Vincent."
"A shame you left my mother out of that list."
Maeve's crimson eyes shift to me, her lips curving into that predatory smile that still sends shivers down my spine. "I can kill your mother if you want, pet. Just say the word."
I blink at her, not entirely sure if she's joking. The casual way she offers murder as a gift is somehow both terrifying and endearing.
"Emily," Maeve continues, "would you be so kind as to set that up for us?"
"Wait, no, no!" I laugh awkwardly, the sound catching in my throat. "I mean, I hate my mom with all my heart, but I don't know if I want that on me..."
Emily looks up from her folder, her blue eyes cold as she studies my face. "Your mother sold you, Vincent. Without a second thought. To a stranger."
"She sold me to Maeve through you," I point out, feeling strangely defensive despite everything.
"That's exactly what I'm saying," Emily retorts, her voice flat.
"I mean, if you really think about it, we should be thanking my mom," I say, rubbing the back of my neck. "Without her greed, I'd never have met you."
Maeve tilts her head, those crimson eyes studying me with a mixture of amusement and confusion. "So... you don't want me to kill her?"
"No!" I sputter, suddenly realizing she's dead serious. "I mean, sure, she's awful, but matricide seems extreme. Plus, it would be super awkward."
Maeve stares at me for a long moment, her face unreadable. The silence stretches between us until I start fidgeting under her gaze.
"We'll see," she finally says, her tone making it clear this is far from settled.
I decide to let it go because, honestly, what else can I do? Fighting with an ancient vampire about whether she should murder my mother isn't exactly a battle I'm equipped to win. Plus, part of me isn't entirely convinced she wouldn't just do it anyway if she thought it was necessary.
Emily clears her throat again, clearly eager to move past the casual discussion of matricide. "Anyway, other than what we've discovered about Belmont herself, we have no solid leads on who she might be working with."
Maeve's expression darkens. "That's not good, Emily."
Emily nods grimly. "I know. We're still analyzing the transmission equipment, but whoever was on the receiving end knows how to cover their tracks."
"Keep looking," Maeve commands, her fingers resuming their absent pattern on my arm. "And another thing we need to address urgently is Vincent's... condition."
I frown, looking between them. "My condition?"
"Your bloody noses," Maeve clarifies, her cool fingers moving to my face, tracing the bridge of my nose with surprising gentleness. "They're a liability. A beacon to every vampire."
Emily shifts forward in her seat, suddenly looking more engaged. "I've actually been looking into that," she says, pulling another document from her folder. "I've consulted with a medical specialist."
"And?" Maeve prompts.
"There are a few options. Cauterization of the blood vessels is one possibility, though it's painful and not guaranteed to work permanently. There are also some experimental blood thinners that might help, but they come with their own risks."
Maeve's eyes narrow as she considers the options. Her fingers stop tracing patterns on my arm, and I can feel her whole body tensing beside me.
"It's settled then," she announces, her voice leaving no room for debate. "We'll cauterize his nose." She turns to me, those crimson eyes burning into mine. "Shall I do it myself?"
My jaw drops. The casual way she suggests burning the inside of my nose right here right now.
"Wait, what? You want to burn my nose?" I splutter, my hand instinctively rising to cover my nostrils.
"It's not a dangerous procedure, but it would be better to have a doctor do it. Someone with experience."
Maeve considers this for a moment, her head tilting slightly in that predatory way of hers. "Fair enough," she concedes, "but I'll be present."
"That could be dangerous if he bleeds during the…" Emily starts, but stops abruptly when Maeve fixes her with a look that could freeze hell itself.
The temperature in the room seems to drop ten degrees as Maeve's eyes bore into Emily's.
"You're right, of course," Emily says quickly, dropping her gaze. "My apologies."
I look between them, feeling like I've missed something important. "So... we're talking about someone sticking a hot poker up my nose? That's the plan we're all agreeing to here?"
"It's not a poker," Emily explains, regaining some of her composure. "It's a medical device that uses controlled heat to seal the blood vessels. Much more precise."
"This sucks," I mutter, already imagining the searing pain.
Maeve's cool fingers capture my chin, turning my face toward hers.
"Vincent," she says, her voice dropping to that silky purr that makes my stomach do somersaults, "however much discomfort it causes you, I promise I'll make up for it tenfold in pleasure."
My mouth goes dry as images of what that "pleasure" might entail flash through my mind.
"Well, alrighty then..." I manage to say, my voice embarrassingly higher than normal. I hate pain with every fiber of my being, and this plan sounds like it might seriously suck. But who am I kidding? My free will basically evaporated the moment Maeve's fangs first punctured my skin. If she wants my nose cauterized, my nose is getting cauterized.
Emily clears her throat loudly, clearly uncomfortable with whatever's happening between Maeve and me. "I can schedule the procedure for tomorrow evening," she says, shuffling papers with unnecessary vigor. "The specialist owes us a favor."
"Perfect."