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room, she heard Micah explaining that he’d heard a car backfiring on the street. The front door closed, but Micah didn’t return.
    Quinn glanced at Arturo. “Did he leave?”
    “Yes. He’ll move among the cops, using mind control to convince the majority that there were no gunshots. Once they leave, we can go. It’s almost full dark.”
    “Where do you plan to take us that Cristoff won’t find us?”
    “To a friend of ours. You will both be safe there, I assure you.”
    She snorted.
    “You do not trust me, cara mia. ” The words were soft, almost sad. But his gaze unsettled her pulse in a way that was all too pleasant. All too annoying. “I am sorry for the necessity of my lies.”
    “Necessity? And are you sorry, too, for the lies you’re telling me now? That you’ll tell me in the future?”
    His mouth tightened, but he didn’t answer.
    “Where does your friend live?”
    “I cannot tell you more. Doing so would endanger him should you fall into the wrong hands.”
    “Which you’ve promised won’t happen,” she countered.
    He dipped his head. “I have. But some things are out of even my control.”
    She gave him a look of disgust. “Of course they are.” Unable to remain still for another second, she rose and began pacing, wishing she could look out the window. But the only way to do that was to pull out her knife and slice away the heavy fabric. It wasn’t worth it.
    Within the hour, she’d be leaving everything she owned behind. Again. But she felt no slam of grief. Barely even a twinge of regret. She liked her job well enough, but it had never been her life. Her friends she’d let slip away as the evidence of her “weirdness,” her magic, had begun to mount. And none of those friends had ever been more than casual acquaintances. Zack was the only family she had. At least he was the only one who mattered. And he was going with her.
    There were things she’d miss, of course. Sunlight. Starbucks. Her cell phone. But otherwise, she would leave little behind of consequence.
    The front door opened and Micah slipped inside. “We’re good,” he said, as if it had been a foregone conclusion. And it probably had.
    “Are you going with us?” she asked.
    “I am.”
    That pleased her, probably because she was still inclined to think of him as her wine-and-dessert buddy rather than Arturo’s vampire spy. Which was a mistake.
    Micah glanced at Arturo, a question in his eyes that had her spidey sense flaring to life. Especially when Arturo nodded.
    “What?” she demanded.
    Arturo was the one who explained. “Micah has an ability to glamour others for short periods of time. A day or two at most.”
    Micah grunted. “Only a few hours today, I’m afraid. I haven’t fed for a while.”
    Quinn frowned, ignoring the feeding comment. “What do you mean ‘glamour’?”
    Micah’s expression gentled. “I’ll essentially place a mask over you, giving you the face of another woman except for your eyes, which cannot be changed. It won’t hurt. You’ll barely feel it, in fact. But no one will recognize you until the glamour wears off.”
    “So if we’re stopped, no one will know me even if they’ve seen me before.”
    “Precisely.”
    Arturo grunted. “Unless you lose control of your magic.”
    Zack leaned forward on the sofa. “This I’ve got to see.”
    Quinn glanced at her brother, then crossed her arms over her chest. The glamour would be an excellent defense if they came upon Cristoff’s men, which they could easily do. But she just didn’t know how much she could trust Micah despite her admittedly biased instincts that, vampire or not, he really was her friend. She hated not knowing. And hated the fact that if she was going to work with them to get the magic renewed without Cristoff’s knowing, she was going to have to trust them, at least to some extent.
    Micah stood before her, studying her. “Your blond hair is too striking, I think. Your features too even, too