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she wasn’t sure how reliable it was. But she did know that the presence she’d sensed upstairs had been a very powerful one.
    “Was Hal murdered too?” Sierra asked.
    “I don’t know.”
    “Did he die in this house?”
    “I’m not sure.”
    “Did he die when you did?”
    “No, I don’t think so. Can’t you find that stuff out? Can’t you sense stuff?”
    “Not really,” Sierra said. “It doesn’t work that way.”
    “Then how does it work?”
    “I work with the spirit to help them come to terms with whatever is keeping them here instead of moving on.”
    “Do all the ghosts you see move on toward the white light?”
    “So far, yes.”
    “Why did you say it that way? You think I’m different?”
    “You are different,” Sierra said.
    “Because I’m a prostitute?”
    “Because you’re a prostitute who died in 1929 and who had ties to Al Capone.” Sierra rubbed her hands with excitement as her inner writer came to the fore. “This has the makings of a great story!”
    Ruby smiled and did a brief flapper dance of joy. “That means I get a happy ending.”
    Sierra didn’t have the heart to burst Ruby’s bubble by admitting that happy endings were a lot easier to achieve in fiction than in real life.
    *   *   *
    Feeling frustrated, Ronan went outside to examine the exterior foundation of the house. Was the key buried somewhere in the concrete that bound the bricks together? Was the key even really a key or something symbolic of a key?
    Ronan only had until the middle of the month to figure it all out. Not only to figure it out, but also to retrieve the key and hand it over to Voz.
    All of which was hard enough to do without having a human getting in his way. Whenever humans had gotten in his way before, he’d either killed them or compelled them, thereby quickly getting them out of his way.
    He wondered if Voz was behind Sierra’s sudden appearance in the house. He wouldn’t put it past the Master Vampire to pull something like that. But he hadn’t sensed any vampire ties with Sierra. Not that he could always tell. But surely Damon would have checked her out.
    Sierra’s inability to be compelled irritated Ronan. Damon had assured Ronan that Sierra wasn’t the first woman to come to Vamptown with that ability. There were two others—Zoe Adams, who lived next door, and Daniella Delaney, who ran the local cupcake shop.
    Somehow that information didn’t do much to decrease Ronan’s frustration with the situation. He was still adjusting to nearly a hundred years of being an indentured vampire, sleeping in a coffin during the day and doing whatever his Master Sire wanted during the night.
    Now that he was free he should be able to move on and enjoy the rest of his immortal life. But Ronan couldn’t do that. Because he had to save his sister’s soul.
    He kicked a shrub along the foundation wall. His vamp strength yanked it out of the ground and sent it flying fifty yards across the street, over the top of a house and into the alley behind it.
    “Chicago is known as the Windy City but we don’t usually have flying bushes,” Damon said from beside him. “Or burning bushes either.”
    “Vamps and fire do not get along,” Ronan said.
    “Right.”
    “Sorry,” Ronan said abruptly.
    “Is your anger going to be an issue? I’ve heard that indentured vamps can have a hard time making the transition.”
    “From human to vamp?”
    “From indentured to free.”
    “Are we ever really free?” Ronan’s voice was as dark as the night.
    “Depends on your definition of freedom,” Damon said.
    Ronan didn’t know what his definition of freedom was anymore but it sure as hell didn’t include a female named Sierra.
    *   *   *
    “So you’re saying that you are willing to give Ronan a good character reference?” Sierra asked Daniella over the phone.
    “Sure.”
    “How long have you known him?”
    “Long enough to know he seems like a reliable kind of … um …