"I brought you here because I wanted you to know that you always have a safe place, Merit. If you need help or advice, if you have questions - whatever. You can always come here. We know what you're dealing with, and we'll help you if we can. Okay?"

I stood and gave him a hug. "Thanks, Grandpa. And I'm sorry it took me so long to come by."

He patted my back. "That's no problem, baby girl. I knew you'd call when you'd had a chance to come to terms."

I didn't think I'd come to terms, but I didn't argue the point.

"Give her some cards," Grandpa directed and, after a quick wave, shuffled back into the building. Catcher pulled a handful of business cards from his pocket and handed them over. They bore only a phone number with the label "OMBUD."

"Consider it a 'Get Out of Jail Free' card," Catcher explained, then sat down on one end of the slatted bench seat. He stretched out, slouching low and crossing his feet at the ankles. "So, you challenged Sullivan," he finally said.

"Not on purpose. I went to Cadogan to show him the note. I was pissed about being changed, but I didn't intend to argue with him about it."

"And what happened?"

I bent down to pluck a dandelion from the dewy grass next to the bench and twirled it in my hand, sending a cloud of ephemeral seeds into the air. "Ethan said something inordinately possessive, and it got to me. I challenged him. I think the vamp genetics were a little more eager for a fight than I was, but he offered me a deal - to release me from my obligations to the House if I landed a punch."

Catcher slid me a glance. "I take it you didn't?"

I shook my head. "I ended up on my back on the floor. But I got a few moves in. I held my own. And he didn't land a blow either. He seemed surprised that I was strong. That I was fast."

Catcher blew out a breath while he nodded. "If you held your own against Sullivan, your reflexes are better than they should be for a baby vamp. And that means, Initiate, that you're going to have some power. What about smell? Hearing? Any improvement?"

I shook my head. "Not much above normal, unless I get angry."

Catcher seemed to consider that, tilting his head to regard me. "That's . . . interesting. Could be those powers aren't online yet."

A motorcycle raced down the dark street, and we were quiet until it disappeared around the block.

"If you want to harness your power," Catcher continued, "whatever that power may be, you'll need training. Vamps have their own traditions of sword work - offensive moves, defensive patterns. You need to learn them."

Having depleted the dandelion of its seeds, I dropped the empty stem to the ground. "If I'm stronger, why do I need training?"

"You're going to be a power, Merit, but there's always someone stronger. Well, unless you're Amit Patel, but that's not the point. Trust me - there's going to be lots of vampire kiddies who want to take you for a spin. You'll invite challenges from good guys and bad guys alike. To stay healthy, merely being stronger or faster won't be enough. You need moves." He paused, nodded. "And until the CPD brings this murderer in, it'd help if you could handle yourself. It'd make Chuck feel better, and if Chuck feels better, I feel better."

I smiled collegially, appreciative that my grandfather had Catcher at his back. "Can Jeff handle himself?"

Catcher made a sarcastic sound. "Jeff's a fucking shifter. He doesn't need martial arts to get around in the world."

"And you? Do you need martial arts?"