Elena raised an eyebrow. “If you say so. You don’t seem to know much about modern society. Or other vampires.”

That rankled. “I know plenty about the other bloodlines! My not having been out much is a… separate issue.”

To her surprise, Elena chuckled. “Touchy, touchy. Hey, look, I hope you are tougher than you look, Ari. The Grigori men are intimidating, but I’ve never seen one of their women before you. As for whatever knowledge you’ve got, what’s written down is great to know, yeah. But dealing with vamps in person is a different story. You’ll pick it up quickly enough… provided you stay alive.”

That blunt assessment stunned Ariane into momentary silence as Elena surveyed the small, shabby room with those fabulous eyes of hers. Ariane looked around, unsure of what Elena was seeing or looking for. There was a single bed with threadbare linens, a battered dresser, and a nightstand that didn’t remotely match it. The wood floors were scarred and bare. The window was a small relief from the dreariness of the room, but it looked out on nothing particularly inspiring. Ariane had learned that these safe houses were never in a good part of town. It made it easier to hide… and easier to feed.

Elena turned her attention back to Ariane with a light frown. “I get traveling light, but this is insane. You’ve been here two weeks, and it’s like you’re not even here. How long are you planning on staying? I’ve seen a lot since I’ve worked here, but this whole deal with you is weird.”

Ariane stiffened at what felt like a rebuke. She liked Elena, as much as one could like a woman who held so much of herself back. That reserve was the product of harsh lessons learned early, Ariane expected. And she was under the impression that Elena liked her well enough. Enough to be treating her like a slightly slow younger sister, at least. But this was no friendly visit… that was rapidly becoming clear.

“I travel light because I need to. What’s the problem, Elena?” She paused, watching the shadow of an emotion she was quickly becoming used to shimmer briefly across the other woman’s fine features. Suddenly she knew. “You’re throwing me out.” It wasn’t a question, just a flat statement of fact.

Elena’s face was all the confirmation she needed.

“And am I allowed to ask why?”

A desolate sigh. “You’re making the other vamps nervous, Ari. Truth? Having a Grigori here is lousy for business. You can’t stay. I just got off the phone with Strickland. He won’t turn you in… but he wants you gone before the sun rises.” She sounded faintly pleading, her cool and confident mask slipping just enough to reveal the regret and guilt beneath. “It’s not you specifically, babe. But it’s hard to miss what you are. And that’s the problem.”

“I see,” Ariane said stiffly. “I’ll get my things. I thought you, of all people, would be immune to this fear people seem to have of my bloodline. I’m sorry to have been wrong.”

She really was. Fascinating though the world was, finding an ally in it was proving to be an almost impossible task. It seemed the most genuine person she’d met was Damien. Not that he earned any points for being genuinely crass and intolerable.

Ariane frowned and turned away to get the few personal items she’d put in the dresser. The last thing she wanted to think about was the obnoxious cat-shifter. Especially because she couldn’t seem to keep her mind off him for any length of time.

She heard Elena’s heavy sigh. “Damn it. Just hang on a minute and hear me out, okay? It’s not like that.”

“Oh?” Ariane opened the top drawer but turned to look back at Elena standing there, distinctly uncomfortable, in the middle of the room. That, at least, gave her some small amount of satisfaction.

Elena expelled a long breath. “Ari. This is a safe house. The vamps here, mostly lowbloods, I might add, don’t want to get noticed. And you… Jesus, babe, I know you’re not from around here, but have you taken a good look in a mirror lately? And that’s before you strap on that big ass sword you walked in here with.”

Ariane cast a quick glance in the mirror that hung from a single nail above the dresser and saw nothing unusual. Her hair was messy. Her cheeks were slightly pink from embarrassment and anger. And the black tunic was getting burned at the first opportunity, wasted money be damned. She looked like a ghoul.

“I see only myself. Should I see more?”

Elena rolled her eyes. “You should see what everyone else does—a highblood! The hair, the eyes—”

“I’ll put the wig back on.” She paused. “And… I’ll try to hide the sword on my way out.” She disliked having to rely on the dagger, but it would have to suffice. These vampires all seemed disturbingly unarmed. Hadn’t any of them trained in swordplay?

Elena winced. “Forget the wig, please. It’s awful. I thought it was a dead animal in the corner when I first walked in.”

Ariane’s jaw tightened. “Fine. Since I’ve failed so miserably at blending in, I’ll go stick out like a sore thumb elsewhere. You can go, Elena. I understand.”

And on some level, beneath the hurt, she really did. Ariane was fairly sure Elena had enough problems just protecting herself in the night-to-night running of this place. Even if she was as capable a fighter as Ariane knew she must be, the woman had her hands full enough without harboring a Grigori. A wanted Grigori, if what Damien had said was true. Though she couldn’t imagine they would focus on bringing her back so quickly.

Elena shifted her weight restlessly from one foot to the other. “Look, this isn’t what I want, okay? I’m not used to tossing out vamps who mind their own business. But it’s not my call.”

“Mmm,” Ariane murmured, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. She didn’t trust herself to speak, didn’t want to get into an argument she didn’t stand a chance of winning. Instead, she focused on placing on the bed the scant articles of clothing she’d acquired, along with her satchel, and then removing a carefully folded black duffel bag from the single drawer of the nightstand. She quickly put everything in the bag, just managing to stuff her scimitar and sheath in, though it strained the fabric to its limits even with the hilt sticking out. She noted with a small, humorless smile that there was still plenty of room to spare. She missed her things… just as she missed the luxury of taking them for granted. Cash was precious now, and she didn’t want to sell anything else she cared for.

Elena was still talking, the words coming out in a guilty rush. “I mean, I appreciate that you’ve tried to lie low. Maybe another safe house in Charlotte will take you. Strickland doesn’t own them all. You’re quiet. You don’t make trouble. You even tried to cover that hair. But…”

“But I’m Grigori. Hated. Feared.”

Elena’s expression turned to shock. “No! No, Ari, it’s not hate. Fear, yeah, but not hate. Not to mention envy, which can be dangerous. You are beyond slumming it here. Don’t you get that?”

The packing was done, and Ariane turned, bag in hand, ready to go. She felt a sick twist of her own fear in the pit of her stomach. Where would she go now? Another city, maybe, if she could find information that indicated Sam had left here before he’d vanished. Another safe house, like Elena said, if they would have her. But not for long. She could see already that it would never be for long. Her hunt for Sam seemed suddenly impossible. She’d been so naive…

But then, she could lay the blame for that squarely at Sariel’s feet. He and the other ancients who kept them all so isolated for reasons they refused to say. How could she have known?

“What do I need to do?” Ariane asked quietly. “How can I stop them from fearing me wherever else I go?”

Elena seemed surprised by the question. “I’m not sure you can. It’s not just being a highblood, Ari. When a Grigori turns up, trouble—big trouble—is never far behind. I don’t know if your people bring it, or if you just sense it and are drawn to it, but it doesn’t make much difference. The end result is the same. A Grigori’s presence always bodes ill.”

Her denial was reflexive. “The Grigori do no harm.”

But we watch it. And are forbidden to make it stop.

The rules that had decreed her an outcast from her first breath as a vampire had never seemed so ludicrous. And becoming aware of the general perception of her kind made her question what the ancients’ true purpose was in the missions they devised. Ariane had always assumed the Grigori observed many facets of life when sent into the world. Did they really only bother with tragedy?

“Well, they might not cause harm, but they sure like staring at carnage,” Elena replied. “It’s creepy. You not knowing any of this is also creepy. What did they do, keep you locked in a closet for hundreds of years?”

Elena would never know how close to home those words hit.

“No. Though I’m beginning to think they might as well have.” Ariane shook her head, pushing back against the resentment that wanted to bubble up more and more since she’d begun to discover all she’d been kept from those many centuries in the desert. “I know it doesn’t matter, but I’m not here as a Watcher. I’m only looking for my friend. You believe what you like.”

She felt deflated, and so incredibly tired as she started across the room toward the door. She would run into this again. Maybe hiding among humans would be easier, though it would pose plenty of its own problems. Things to consider…

Elena’s hand shot out to catch her arm as she brushed past.

“Wait,” she said as Ariane whipped her head to the side to glare at her.

It was a struggle to tamp down the flash of fury at being grabbed, restrained. If she thinks to fight me, she’s a fool…

But Elena simply blew out an exasperated breath, and the hard set of her mouth softened. “Damn it. I had instructions to come in here and toss you out tonight, but you’re making it tough.” She rolled her dark eyes heavenward for a moment, then sighed again. “Okay. You need a place to stay. I’ve got one. Come on.”