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Raphael’s household, especially one specific part of his household.
    “Is it true that Raphael’s got his own sister locked up around here somewhere?”
    Riley glanced at him, but didn’t say anything.
    “That used to be her house where we’re all living, right?” Pascal persisted. “I mean, that’s what I heard.”
    “You’ve heard a lot of stuff.”
    “Hey, I’m just making conversation.”
    Riley snorted, his position on that clear, and Pascal forced down a snarl of anger. Self-righteous little prick. He’d hoped to gather as much intel as possible without using his talent. Every use of his ability increased his exposure and heightened the likelihood that he’d get caught. But he hadn’t counted on getting shut down quite this quickly.
    “So, the sister’s dead?” Pascal asked, being intentionally provocative.
    “Look,” Riley said, swinging around to face Pascal. “I don’t know about you—” His words shut down as Pascal directed a sharp probe into his brain, taking over with far less finesse than he usually employed. Riley winced in pain, which gave Pascal a warm feeling of satisfaction. The kid should have been nicer to him.
    “Tell me what you know about Alexandra,” he ordered. He felt the kid trying to rebel and tightened his control, even as he marveled at the strength of the loyalty Raphael’s vamps all seemed to feel toward their master. “Tell me now,” he demanded.
    Riley’s jaw unclenched slowly. “She’s in a special prison, below the garages near the main house.”
    “What about guards?”
    “It rotates. No one works that detail for more than a month. She’s a bitch, but a beautiful one, and she can be sweet when it suits her. Lord Raphael doesn’t want anyone getting too attached.”
    “You’ve worked the detail then?”
    “We all have.”
    “Who decides the rotation?”
    “Jared,” Riley said, as if it was obvious.
    “Excellent. You’ve been very helpful. Now forget that we had this conversation.”
    Riley staggered slightly then blinked as he looked around. He cast a guilty look at Pascal, as if he was afraid he’d flaked out on the job, and was checking to see if Pascal had noticed. Pascal gave him a bland smile in return.
    “We turn back here,” the kid said gruffly.
    “Our route doesn’t include the main house?” Pascal asked as if they’d never stopped, but had kept walking all this time. Although he really didn’t care where the damn route went since it didn’t include Alexandra’s prison.
    “No,” Riley responded, unaware of Pascal’s disregard. “That’s a separate rotation.”
    “Good thing,” Pascal said cheerfully. “This is a big fucking estate.”
    They turned and started back along the gravel paths toward the mansion turned guard barracks. For once, Pascal’s emotions weren’t faked. He really was cheered by this first night’s work. He’d proven he could suborn Jared, which would be especially critical given what he’d just learned from Riley. And then there was Riley himself. One never knew when the rank and file would come in handy.
    He grinned. All in all, an excellent beginning.
    CYN WAS SITTING in the alcove next to Raphael’s desk, tucked into one end of the big overstuffed couch with a warm, woolen throw pulled over her legs while she worked on her laptop. The fireplace was lit and she wore her most comfortable clothes: sweats and a short t-shirt, UGG boots on her feet. The night outside was cold and wet, a storm churning its way toward the California coast. Down below the cliffs, the ocean was raging; it rattled the windows and shook the floor every once in a while when a big wave hit, and she loved it. Loved working safe and warm with Raphael nearby, while the ocean thundered below.
    Her task tonight was nothing she hadn’t done before, tracking down an old friend for a vampire. The difference this time was that the job was gratis —because her client was Raphael—and the friend was apparently a vampire who was