“He’s not come to trial yet?”

“No,” Stefan sipped at his tea, which he had requested. I hadn’t known vampires could drink tea. “How’s the ankle?”

I made a rude noise. “My ankle is fine.” Which wasn’t strictly true, but I wasn’t going to let him change the subject. “It took them only a day to bring you to trial and it’s been two weeks for Andre.”

“Weeks that Andre spends in the cells beneath the seethe,” Stefan said mildly. “He’s not out vacationing. As for how long it is taking, I’m afraid that is my fault. I’ve been in Chicago to see what I can ferret out about Andre’s...