Leonard opened my car door before I touched the handle. Vampire speed is very rude.

"My poor little flower. You came. My heart is simply full."

"You don't have a heartbeat."

"Details." He offered his arm like we were at a ball. I did not take it. He carried on like I had. "Come. The council awaits, and I owe you an apology of historic size."

Valdi and Vroni fell in behind me. Valdi flexed at the gargoyle on the fountain, just in case. Vroni looked at the entire haunted mansion the way most people look at a bus schedule.

In my ear, one earbud, Magnus's voice, low and tight. "Marion. Every word he says is a lie."

"Even hello?"

"Especially hello."

Leonard swept me through the front doors, and I want to be clear about something. Vampires do not decorate. They lurk professionally. Red carpet, high ceiling, a throne at the top of a staircase, and roughly forty pale faces watching me like I was the dessert cart.

"Marion, dearest," Leonard boomed, hand on his chest. "I have wronged you. The kidnapping. The crows. The threats upon your life. I look back and I ask myself, who WAS that man?"

On my phone, tucked low against my hip, Barnabas's stream was live. He was filming from behind a suit of armor, and he had turned on captions for his viewers. His captions were the only honest thing in the building.

LIE, the caption said.

"I was lost in grief," Leonard went on, dabbing at a dry eye. "Blinded by love for my people."

ALSO A LIE. HE CRIED ONCE IN 1743 AND IT WAS ABOUT A HORSE.

"But tonight, we make amends. Tonight, we save your beloved detective."

CHAT, HE IS DOING THE VOICE. THE VOICE MEANS A PLAN. I HAVE KNOWN HIM 200 YEARS.

I bit the inside of my cheek so hard I nearly needed my own vial. "That's very generous," I said. "Speaking of amends. Where's Magnus? Weird that my former bodyguard isn't here to guard my body."

Leonard's smile did not move. That's how you catch a liar. Real smiles twitch. His was set like concrete. "Resting, poor thing. The journey home exhausted him. He asked not to be disturbed."

In my ear, Magnus kicked his door. It sounded like a church bell falling down stairs. "Disturbed," he said, "is exactly what I asked to be."

"Sure," I told Leonard. "Resting. Behind a locked door."

"Doors do lock, my flower. It is rather their whole talent."

Behind the armor, Barnabas whispered to his stream. "Chat, she knows. She KNOWS and she's still walking in. Human women are terrifying. Smash that like button for Marion."

Leonard led us into the dining hall, where the council sat at a long table under a chandelier dripping wax. A woman with intense eyes, Morgana, looked at me like a puzzle. A woman with a hand mirror, Nadia, did not look at me at all. And at the end, an elderly vampire with glasses stood up and beamed.

"So YOU are the famous Marion!" He came around the table and shook my hand with both of his. Warm, for a dead man. "Doctor Acula. I have heard everything about you, my dear. Mostly shouted, at volume, by Leonard, but everything."

I decided on the spot that he was my favorite vampire named after a pun.

"The samples," Leonard said, hand extended. "If you would."

"She would not," I said, and handed them past him to the doctor. Petty? Yes. Worth it? Also yes. Leonard's jaw made a tiny sound, like ice deciding whether to crack.

CAPTION: HE HATES THAT. CLIP IT. CLIP IT NOW.

Dr. Acula carried both vials to the candelabra. Jake's first. He turned it slowly, frowned, and made the small hm sound doctors make right before they ruin your week.

Then he lifted mine. The candlelight went through it, and something in the red caught the flame wrong. Wrong how, I couldn't say. Wrong like a familiar song played one key off.

The whole table leaned in. Even Nadia lowered her mirror. In my ear, Magnus went very quiet, and behind the armor, Barnabas forgot to caption.

Dr. Acula looked up at me over his glasses and said, quietly, "My dear, this blood is not entirely human anymore."