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reached out for my hip, but Rosemary was waiting, so I pushed Ian’s hand away.
    I dressed in shorts, a tank top, and running shoes. I caressed the covers of Jane Eyre on the way out, the very sight of the books making me smile.
    The hill was extremely steep and there were no sidewalks, so I kept to the far side of the road and enjoyed the challenge of avoiding branches and patches of loose rocks. It was going to be another sunny day, and I breathed in the resin-scented dew evaporating off the redwoods and firs.
    My dog and I explored a few trails and I spotted the glossy dark leaves of a madrone and lacy fronds of wild ferns.
    Rosemary began lagging, so, after checking to see that no one was around, I picked him up and began the journey uphill to the house.
    I came in the opposite direction that I’d left. As I got close to Ian’s house, I put down Rosemary. I saw the service parking lot that Cricket had mentioned. A stand of gorgeous black bamboo blocked it from view, which was why I hadn’t noticed it before.
    I stepped into the driveway of the lot and saw a middle-aged couple getting out of a new Volvo wagon.
    He was tall, with graying brown hair cropped close to his head, wearing a black suit and a white shirt. She was nearly as tall, with a neat brown bob, a black dress, a white apron, low-heeled shoes, and a black leather handbag.
    When they saw me, I smiled, said “Hi!” and gave a wave, and they smiled and nodded at me.
    I continued on my way back and slowed to look at the Poindexters’ house. A drive of old granite bricks led between dense privet hedges. I could see the corner of a roof, but nothing else.
    I heard footsteps and glanced back to see that the man and the woman were a few steps behind me. I wondered where they worked and was surprised when I turned right at Ian’s courtyard and they followed.
    Turning to face them, I said, “Hi, can I help you?”
    “Morning, miss. We have an appointment with Lord Ducharme.”
    Their complexions were normal; I surreptitiously took a sniff but I didn’t smell the herbal-scented sunblock many vampires used.
    “I’m Milagro. I’ll take you in.”
    The woman and man looked at each other with delight and then grinned. She said, “Miss de Los Santos, what a tremendous honor to meet you!”
    Their enthusiasm and attire clued me in that they were thralls, normals who subjugated themselves to vampires. I had achieved some fame among them since I’d managed to do what they could only dream of doing: become a vampire. Or vampirish. Whatever. “So you’re here to visit Ian?”
    “We’re here to work, Miss de Los Santos,” the woman said. “I’m Anna and this is Cal Kogalniceaunu. At our last position,they called us Mr. and Mrs. K, but please call us whatever you wish.”
    As we came to the front of the craptastic house, their eyes widened.
    “Such an impressive estate!” Mrs. K said.
    Thralls lived to serve. Some believed in the vampire myth (undead vamps with supernatural powers), others were role-playing in what they thought was an S and M game, but the most trusted were those whose families had been allied with the vampires for generations.
    We went into the house and were met by Ian, who was wearing a navy silk robe open over his bare chest and drawstring pants. I supposed this was proper attire for interviewing feudal staff.
    “Look who I found out on the street,” I said. “Mr. and Mrs. K.”
    “Lord Ducharme,” they both said, and Cal took Ian’s hand and bowed.
    I shot a look at Ian, who was, as always, annoyingly comfortable with people falling all over him.
    “Welcome,” he said, all lord-of-the-drug-king’s-manor mannerish. “I trust your trip was pleasant.”
    “Yes, sir,” Mrs. K said. “Our hotel was very comfortable and our things are being delivered later this morning.”
    “Wonderful. I’ll show you your rooms.”
    Ian led them down the hall and I heard them going downstairs. I took Rosemary with me to the not-so-great room