His mouth opens, then closes. I watch him search for something to say, and the longer he takes, the uglier my thoughts become. This is my son standing in front of me, the same boy who used to climb into my bed after nightmares and insist that I stay awake until he fell asleep. I know his face. I know his tells. And right now, he is trying very hard not to show me something.“I don’t know any House Vesper,” he says finally.I nod slowly, and start walking toward him. “Interesting.”His hands come up. “Dad, I swear. I don’t know what Xavier told you, but I don’t know any vampires.”“You think Xavier’s a witch in training?” I ask. He rapidly shakes his head, but I don’t let him speak.“A Jolene from House Vesper called you. More than once. She gave instructions. You answered.” I crowd him back against the wall. “So we can skip the part where you look confused.”Marcus’s throat works. “She contacted me first.”“How?”He blinks. “What?”“How did a Vesper vampire get my son’s num
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