“Where is this house?”
The first question out of Vic’s mouth had not been what I was expecting. I would have started with asking if Grant had taken some kind of hallucinogen, or, at the very least, if he was still drunk. Instead, Vic paced the room, completely serious.
“Westerville.” Grant grabbed a piece of the buttered toast from the tower he and Jonathan had been making when we found them downstairs. “Near the college.”
“And did they all have fangs?”
I had to fight not to interrupt.
“I don’t know about all, but I’m sure the guy I saw carrying Christopher did.” Carrying me? “And there was even a chick draining some old man right there in the middle of the party.”
“And what about you?” Vic focused on me, and I nearly squirmed.
“It was just a party.”
“Yeah.” Vic dismissed it. “Who
