I opened my mouth, then shut it again, having completely forgotten the speech I was prepared to make. Honest to God, my mind was completely blank, all rational thought having fled at the sight of his body. God knew, physical attraction was never the problem. Nothing about Morgan was the problem. I was the problem.
Ethan was the problem.
I had to shake my head to clear it. His expression went smug; I assumed he was happy he’d been able to fluster me.
“Not expecting company?” I finally managed.
Morgan sat down on the edge of a chair, pulled on socks, then lifted fancy square-toed shoes from the floor and slid his foot into one. “I just finished a workout, and we’ve got the dinner in an hour. What do you need?”
Realizing I was still standing in the doorway, door askew, I stepped into the room and closed it behind me.
“I wanted to update you on the investigation.”
Halfway through the second shoe, his hands stilled, and he looked up at me. That’s when I noticed the blue shadows under his eyes. He looked tired. It couldn’t have been easy for him to fill Celina’s shoes, especially given the unrest.
I didn’t envy a Second forced into the role of a Master . . . and I’d helped put him there.
“Then by all means, update me.”
I managed not to roll my eyes, and repeated what we’d discovered in Streeterville, what we’d learned at the bar, and what we’d learned from Paulie. By the time I was done, Morgan was fully clothed and was sitting back in the chair, fingers linked across his stomach.
“You came across town to tell me all that?”
“We’ve identified the guy who’s been selling V to vampires. His name’s Paulie Cermak. I need to know if he looks familiar.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t generally hang around with addicts.”
The attitude wasn’t unexpected. That’s why I’d asked Jeff for the picture—this was about evidence, not irritation. I pulled out my phone and called up Paulie’s picture. “He’s not an addict. He’s a salesman, at least as far as I can tell.”
I walked closer and held out the phone, then watched to make sure he glanced over at it.
I’d expected Morgan to roll his eyes and tell me he hadn’t seen Cermak. I’d expected him to wax sarcastic about my investigation.
I hadn’t expected the wide-eyed expression.
He tensed, his shoulders squaring, his jaw clenching. He knew something.
“You’ve seen him,” I said, before he could deny it or make his features blank again. But it still took him a minute to answer.
“Six months ago. Celina never allowed humans in the House, even before Tate issued the mandate. I was on my way up here to talk to her—I don’t remember what we were meeting about. He—Cermak—was on his way out of the office. I asked her who he was. It was . . . strange that he was in the House.”
So Celina had met with the man who sold V in her own House. That was all well and good, but it was completely circumstantial.
Circumstantial or not, Morgan was clearly flustered, clearly bothered by the links he was beginning to put together. Morgan closed his eyes, then scrubbed his hands over his face and linked his hands over his head. “It really, really pisses me off when you’re right.”
“I don’t want to be right,” I assured him. “I want to be the one with ludicrous theories. I don’t want Celina making your job—or mine—harder.”
He grunted and looked away, not ready to share the details of whatever he knew. I gave him space, walking to the other side of the office where a giant window overlooked a smartly designed courtyard.
“What did Celina say about him?” I asked after a moment.
“That he was a vendor for the House.”
And things had come full circle. “And as Second, selecting vendors was your job, right?”
Morgan glanced back and nodded ruefully.
“That’s another reason it was strange that he was here. I just guessed it was a special project. I checked the books—they were fine. All the House’s funds were accounted for. But there weren’t any extra vendors listed.”
“So she hadn’t actually gotten anything from him. On the books, anyway.”
Morgan nodded.
“What else would she want with Paulie Cermak? I mean, even if they were in the drug game together, why would she want to be involved in selling drugs to vamps? Does she need money?”
Morgan shook his head. “She gets a stipend from the GP for being a member, and she’s been alive for a very long time.”
“Compound interest?”
“Compound interest,” he confirmed.
No dice there, then. “Maybe it’s the drug itself,” I suggested. “Cermak said it stood for veritas, which is Latin for ‘truth.’ He said it’s supposed to make vampires feel more like themselves.”
Morgan furrowed his brow, considering.
“Celina has always believed relations between humans and vampires were going to come to a cataclysmic end. She just thought she’d come out on top.”
“Which is why she’d worked to ingratiate herself to humans—to usher in the end of their reign?”
He shrugged. “Maybe. But as for V, I don’t know. If she wanted ‘truer’ vampires, why not allow Navarre to drink?”
Because if she’d allowed drinking, I thought, she wouldn’t have been able to demonize Cadogan. In any event, we could ferret out her motivations later. Right now, we needed evidence.
I stared at the floor for a minute, trying to figure out if I was missing anything. But nothing occurred to me, as much as I wanted there to be an ultimate answer to all my V-related questions.
When I looked up at Morgan again, I found his gaze on me, his expression surprisingly unguarded.
“What?” I asked him.
He gave me a flat look, the implication being that he’d been reminded of the affection for me that I didn’t share. No time like the present to cut off that train of thought.
“I should get going,” I said. “I need to get changed.”
“You bringing a date?”
“Is there ever going to be a time that you don’t ask me about Ethan?”