

Sucked In

By Charissa Dufour

To all my friends who let me

use them as a character,

you know who you are!

© 2014 by Charissa Dufour

All rights reserved.

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be re-sold or given to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Follow Charissa Dufour at:

<https://www.facebook.com/Charissadufourauthor>

<https://twitter.com/CharissaDufour>

https://www.instagram.com/

# Chapter One

...Audrey leaned forward, his intoxicating smell filling her lungs and making her head spin. She knew she should be afraid. But she couldn't make herself feel what she didn't feel, just as she couldn't drive away the feeling of love that welled up inside her. Just like she knew she should be afraid, she knew she shouldn't love him. After all, he was a vampire.

But it was too much!

He was too handsome, too brilliant, too talented for her to not love him. Any woman that knew him like she did would love him tobaca;aoivnakd;ahvna;shcOIenfw

"Muffler!" I shrieked as my ridiculous gray cat sauntered across my keyboard. Instead of scurrying away, he turned to look at me, planting his behind right on the D key. A sudden paragraph of Ds sprouted on my flickering screen. I rolled my eyes, lifted the cat off my desk, and stood up. Instantly, his chest began rumbling with a purr I was sure could be heard in the next apartment. With a sigh, I dropped him on the floor. I had been in the zone—which, of course, meant I needed to be interrupted.

I was right.

A recognizable ratta-tat-tat filled my apartment.

"Two bits," I called out by way of acknowledgment, nudging a still rumbling Muffler from my legs where he was making intense circle-eights. Jordan, my best friend, entered.

"Writing?" he asked, glancing at the screen. His blond brows furrowed as he noticed Muffler's contribution.

"Cat," I explained.

"Ah." Without asking, he moved into my closet of a kitchen and began rummaging through the ancient fridge. He pulled out a soda; it was still a little early for beer. I ignored him and walked back to my computer, which was tucked into the far corner of my studio apartment. Jordan dropped onto my bed, which often acted as a couch, and cracked open the can of Mountain Dew.

"So what are you up to?" I asked as I stood in the small space between my computer desk and my bed. I was used to Jordan stopping by randomly, but this felt different.

"Well..." He hesitated. "I wanted to talk to you."

"About what?" I asked, flopping into my desk chair and taking a decidedly relaxed pose.

Jordan was clearly upset and I wanted to make him feel at ease. He took a long swig of his soda in an effort to buy himself some time. I waited patiently. There weren't many people for whom I would be patient, but he was one of them.

"Uh... I'm taking Chloe out on a date tonight."

"On a date date?" I asked, unable to hide my shock and concern.

Chloe was a dear friend of ours. In fact, Jordan, Chloe, and I had been the three amigos for a number of years. I'd met Chloe at the nearby grocery store where I worked and had quickly introduced her to my best friend—never imagining they would become an item. It wasn't a complete surprise, but if I was being honest with myself, I'd hoped any symptoms of romance I'd noticed were the result of my overactive imagination.

As much as I wanted them to be happy, I knew this would change things. We would no longer be the three amigos: We'd be a dating couple and the third wheel.

"Yeah," Jordan said. It sounded more like a question, as though he were asking for my permission. I hated that he felt this way. I had known Jordan since high school; a decade now. We found out much later that we'd both had crushes on each other, but never had the guts to pursue it. Despite the revelation, we never did attempt to date. In some ways, I wondered what we might have missed out on, and yet I was happy to know I would never lose his friendship. Our love was unconditional. I didn't want him to feel like he had to ask for my blessing to date another woman, even if she was my friend.

I schooled my features into a smile. "That's awesome. I was wondering when you were going to ball up and ask her out."

Jordan's pale lips turned up into a smile as his face burned red. It was a stark contrast to his extremely blond hair. "Yeah... well..." he stuttered, rubbing the back of his neck, which was also turning red. It was a gesture he often used when feeling awkward or uncomfortable. "I wasn't sure how you'd feel about it. I didn't want to upset you."

"Upset me? Why would it upset me? My two best friends together. What could be better?" I lied through my teeth. Thankfully, Jordan had never been able to see through my lies. Perhaps he simply wanted to trust that we were close enough that I would never stoop to a lie. I had thought so too, until today.

"So what are you up to?" he asked, changing the subject suddenly.

"I have the day off," I began.

Though I had worked at the grocery store since before high school graduation, three months ago I cut my hours back to part time so I could spend more time writing. I'd sold my second book, and my publisher was becoming more demanding. My books weren't hugely popular, but I did have a small mob of devoted readers. Between the part time job and the royalty checks, I managed to keep a roof over my head and food in my fridge—most of the time. It didn't allow for much else, including socializing. Things like movies and dinner cost money.

"But I'm going out with Isaac tonight," I added quickly.

Isaac didn't seem to mind paying for our dates. He taught a few night classes at the local university and made decent money, so I didn't mind letting him pick up the tab. We had gone out a handful of times over the past month, but so far we seemed to be stuck in a holding pattern.

I never felt like I knew him better at the end of our dates. He shared just enough to not seem distant, but not enough for the relationship to progress. I, on the other hand, shared everything. Jordan always teased me about talking too much, and I knew it was true but didn't put much energy into changing it.

Jordan glared in my general direction. Despite the fact we had never dated, he continued to be my staunch protector. Any guy I dated, or even ogled, he considered to be a psychopath. Overprotective he may be, but I knew—beyond a shadow of a doubt—that if I was ever in trouble Jordan would come to the ends of the earth to save me, cliché as it may be.

I waited until he got the glare out of his system.

"Yes, I know how you feel. I'll be careful. It's not like I've jumped into the sack with him or anything!"

"That's just it! I'd almost feel better if you had. It's not normal that he's so careful with you. Normal guys try to kiss their girlfriends. Try to grope them."

I stared at him.

"Wait! You want him to grope me?" I was completely lost. Everyone says women don't make sense, but this conversation seemed to be pointing in the other direction.

"No! I just wish he was a little more normal. There's something off about him. I know you see him as a gentleman, but it goes beyond that. And I—I just want you to be careful... on your guard."

I nodded reluctantly, knowing full well my face showed my dissatisfaction. Jordan's assessment of Isaac made me think he didn't like me. It's so easy to feel discouraged.

"Look," sighed Jordan, clearly wanting to make me feel better. "He seems to really like you."

"Yeah, maybe," I half agreed. Between Jordan's appraisal and Isaac's general distance, I was beginning to wonder.

I didn't want to end it. What I knew of Isaac I really liked; besides, he wasn't too hard on the eyes either. But despite my inclination to continue the relationship, I knew I wasn't in love with him. For that to happen, he would have to open up.

"You don't think so?" Jordan's tone turned into excitement, almost relief.

I was too upset to give him the dirty look he deserved. "He just seems cautious. Like something's in the way of us—you know—becoming exclusive."

"He's probably married," Jordan said flatly.

"He's not married!" I snapped, annoyed with my friend's willingness to think badly of Isaac. I threw a pencil at him and managed to bounce the eraser end off his shoulder.

Jordan shrugged, ignoring my missile.

"I don't know what it is," I said. "Maybe he's just not that interested in me."

"No, he's interested in you. I've watched him. His eyes follow you as if in the midst of your friends, you might get snatched up by a monster. He looks ready to, at a moment's notice, throw you over his shoulder and run."

I know some part of me should have been disturbed by Jordan's description, but instead, I just felt like giggling. A hot guy was watching me? Score! Not the most intelligent response, I know. Evidently, Jordan saw the first hint of laughter in my eyes. He gave me a look that said: "you're kidding me, right?"

"You shouldn't be excited about that," Jordan said, his voice was clear and deliberate as if he were talking to a child. "Look, I know I tend to judge the men you date a little too harshly, but I'm serious. Isaac really gives me the willies. I'm not saying break up with him. I'm just saying be careful."

I pursed my lips, trying to genuinely heed his words. Finally, I nodded, figuring that was the best I could do.

Jordan sighed, knowing his message had only half sunk in. I just couldn't take him seriously. This was Isaac, after all, a complete gentleman. When he kissed me goodnight, it was always short, with his hands in very safe locations. Sometimes I just wanted to grab him and show him what could be done with a tongue.

Before either of us could say anything else, Chloe burst into my apartment. I hadn't heard her ascend the flight of stairs necessary to get to my door. She didn't knock. I knew better than to expect such a courtesy. She still wore her black grocery-store apron, but that didn't last long. She dropped her purse on the small table next to my door, nearly hitting the cat, yanked the apron off, and flung it onto her purse.

This was her usual ritual when entering my apartment after a long day of work. She went to my bathroom and immediately scrubbed her face; another ritual that allowed Chloe to keep her ebony skin clear and beautiful despite working in the deli department where the deep-fat fryer was king.

When she emerged, she retrieved her purse and apron. "Ready?" she asked, her eyes focused only on Jordan. I didn't think it was due to any aversion, but more from the fact she was nervous and uncomfortable.

I felt like a fly on the wall of my own apartment until Jordan turned toward me. "You'll remember what I said?"

I nodded. I'd do anything to get them out of my home.

# Chapter Two

Jordan gave me a distrustful look before escorting Chloe out of my apartment.

Their departure left me feeling uncomfortable and anxious. I had intended on getting back to my writing, but the nervous energy they'd left behind demanded a more relaxing activity. I didn't want Isaac to arrive while I was all worked up.

I grabbed the little black dress I intended to wear and headed to my bathroom. Though I was anything but a fashionista—jeans and a T-shirt were my normal apparel—I did have one or two little dresses. I stripped out of my Dallas Cowboys sweatshirt and turned the water on. The sweatshirt had belonged to my mother. Both my parents had kicked the bucket after a brutal car crash a few years back. I know it sounds harsh, but that's how I cope, so don't judge.

The truth is, I loved my parents deeply, and they had loved me. We had a strong relationship, even when I was in high school. My mom had been my best friend, my fierce protector, and my greatest fan. My dad was the mortar that held our little family of misfits together. Now I lived by myself, in a studio apartment, struggling to pay my own rent. Such was life. But now they were gone and couldn't help me; I had to remind myself to keep the tears from forming in my eyes.

Before I could get the rest of my clothing off, the bathroom was steaming up from the shower. The bathroom in my apartment is one of those tiny things where a guy could stand in the shower and piss in the toilet, or sink, without missing. I'm pretty sure RVs have larger bathrooms. In the end, I not only straightened my red hair, but I also put on makeup.

Between the makeup, the black dress that left little to the imagination, and the delicate heels, I hardly recognized myself in the mirror. It felt a bit like playing dress up or Barbie. Except, today Ken would actually be arriving at my house.

Isaac is the type of guy that makes a girl's brain turn into liquid and slowly dribble out of her ears. Though he had no distinct features, all his non-distinctiveness consolidated into sheer hotness! His dirty blond hair lay in casual disarray, his nose sat in a slightly cockeyed way, and his facial hair was... there. Like most movie stars, he somehow managed to keep it at the length of stubble without ever letting it get longer or shorter. How men do that is a complete mystery to me.

I went to my Mac PowerBook, saved my document and switched it off. New, the damn thing had cost my dad nearly three grand. Now after ten years, it was worth more as a relic than as a computer. Nevertheless, it continued to run an old word processor program, which was the only thing I really needed it to do.

I had just finished straightening up my desk when I heard a heavy knock that sounded nothing like Jordan's quick, rhythmic tap. A smile pulled at my lips. Maybe with the help of my little black dress, he'd show a little more interest.

"Coming!" I called.

Isaac stood in the stairwell, dressed in dark wash jeans, a white button-up shirt, and a dress jacket. I have to admit, he didn't look like a college professor. Not that I ever went to college. Weren't professors supposed to be old, with out-of-date glasses and long gray hair pulled back into ponytails?

"Wow!" he said in a breathy tone as he took in my little black dress. Every woman should have one of these, I thought as my face warmed with a typical blush. "You look perfect."

My smile grew. Call me a sucker, but I love compliments, especially when they come from a guy who looks like he should be modeling Calvin Klein underwear. I grabbed my purse from the small entry table and followed him out, barely remembering to lock my front door.

I lived in a small complex of tiny apartments designed to remind you of old Europe. It was mostly inhabited by ancient ladies who walked around with water cans, even though this was Olympia, Washington—the Land of Continual Rain. Seldom did a day go by without a great deal of the wet stuff falling from the sky. Each exterior door was surrounded by pots of flowers, breaking up the concrete pad. Even the windows were decorated with living plants. I loved the homey feel and mothering neighbors. Also, the rent was cheap.

We pounded our way down the narrow stairs, no doubt annoying Miss Ferguson, my little old gray-haired neighbor. Miss Ferguson was the sweetest senior citizen in the complex, which is saying a lot considering that most of the residents were senior citizens. When we stopped at the exterior door, I could hear her grumbling through the thin walls. I didn't worry about it. She may put on a mean face, but I knew she was nothing but goo and nougat on the inside.

Isaac led me to his car, a silver 2004 Hyundai Tiburon... whatever that is. I'm not a car person, though I can admire a pretty one, and like Isaac, this one was pretty. He opened the door for me and I slid in, trying to pretend like I always wore slinky black dresses and heels that could easily break my ankle. I failed.

He drove us into Lacey, one of the towns wedged up against Olympia; Lacey, Olympia, and Tumwater were basically all one large city. Wednesday night proved to be a perfect night to go to Red Lobster, my favorite restaurant. There was no wait and our server practically lived at our table, to the point where her constant concern for our meal grew annoying. I wanted to be alone with Isaac.

I waited for him to peruse the menu, having already made my choice before we walked through the door. I scanned the seafaring art on the wall. It was that or stare at him, which I didn't think he'd like. The picture on the wall in our booth was that of a lighthouse with an enormous wave crashing into it, the moment caught in perfect clarity by what I imagined must have been an overly-expensive camera.

The writer in me started to think about how a lighthouse attendant would survive such a storm and what daily life was like. I imagined the man, his beard kept long and his body decked in flannel and rubber, hunkered down around a small heater, waiting for the storm to pass. Maybe he would hold on to the picture of the woman he had loved in his youth, but she hadn't loved him enough to brave the perilous life of a lighthouse attendant. What a lonely existence it would be.

From somewhere in the real world, Isaac closed his menu and began to stare at me. Eventually, I realized I was being watched. I grinned sheepishly and folded my hands on the table. "Lost in thought?" he asked.

"Just wondering how a lighthouse keeper would survive such a storm." I pointed at the picture.

"Your brain never stops, does it?"

I blushed. I couldn't tell if it was a compliment or not. Before I could respond, the waiter returned with our drinks and took our order. I got shrimp, shrimp, and more shrimp. Isaac got a chicken Caesar salad.

_Boy, he knows how to make a girl feel fat,_ I thought, examining our order. But I couldn't complain; if salad was how he kept his trim figure, well then: yah lettuce!

I wasn't fat myself. I'm not silly enough to think it when it's not true, but that didn't mean there weren't things I didn't like about myself. When I was in elementary school I got hit in the face with a shovel—long story—and had a slight bump in my nose as a result. I didn't like that, for sure.

"Magic," Isaac asked abruptly.

"Huh?"

"The lighthouse keeper would survive by using magic," he explained in a matter-of-fact tone.

I didn't know whether I was supposed to laugh or not. Was he serious? "Well, my grandmother always thought magic was pretty powerful," I said with a smirk.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked, leaning forward in his seat and resting his elbows on the table.

I snagged a cheese biscuit and broke off a piece, which I quickly popped into my mouth to give myself time to think. My grandma, a rather eccentric person, believed in fairies, vampires, and wizards. Maybe it was her stories that made me write vampire romance novels. Unlike me, she believed them to be as real as the table I sat at or the biscuit I ate. I wasn't sure I wanted to tell Isaac I had a certifiably crazy relative. I finally decided he'd hear eventually.

"Well, my grandma believed in vampires and stuff like that. She always told this story about how my, like, super great-granddad was a magician... or wizard...or whatever. And not like the entertainer kind, but the real kind. My grandma believed the story all her life. I think it's a load of bull."

Isaac smiled at me, an unknown secret bringing a gleam to his eyes. "That's interesting. Do you know what his name was?"

"I don't remember."

"Well, where'd he come from?"

I frowned. Isaac seemed extra intrigued by my stupid story. Why was he so interested in my family's past? Jordan's warning echoed in the back of my mind. Before I could inquire, our food arrived, distracting me from our conversation.

Isaac didn't ask about my crazy grandmother, or her stories, again.

# Chapter Three

"So how are classes going?" I asked, trying to pull the conversation away from my crazy relatives.

He shrugged before putting a bite into his mouth. "Good enough. Lots to grade," he added when he realized I was waiting for more of an answer.

"Covering anything interesting?"

"Not really. Hunter-gatherers. Most boring subject to teach. I could do the whole course in thirty seconds—some hunt some gather. There, the end." Isaac shoveled another bite of salad into his mouth.

I smiled. It was the longest speech he'd ever offered me.

The conversation, if you can call it that, continued for another half hour. I was almost relieved when we didn't order dessert. I felt dissatisfied when he finally signed the receipt. He just didn't really share, and I wanted to know more about him. I wondered what made him tick, why he chose to be a teacher, who cut his hair—anything!

It was hard not to wonder if he found me intellectually beneath him. After all, he had a Ph.D., I had barely finished high school. Were we simply too different?

We exited the restaurant into a sizeable gale. The wind blew into our faces, driving the rain at an unnatural angle. I'd forgotten to grab a jacket. Okay, _forgotten_ isn't quite the word I'd use: Chose not to might be a bit more accurate.

Aside from my bulky winter jacket, left over from high school and only worn when it was below zero, my only coat was a worn leather number, and which would have clashed hideously with my little black dress. Coatless was the only fashion choice available to me tonight.

We scurried to his car and hopped in. I was already drenched. Typically, Washington skies drizzle rather than pour. Granted, they do it without any sign of stopping for days on end, but today was apparently special. I laughed, but Isaac took on a suddenly serious look. I didn't know what he could be thinking.

On the drive home I had hopes that maybe, for a change, Isaac would come up to my apartment. I didn't really have anything to offer him to drink, though, as Jordan had taken my last soda. I tried to tone down my frivolity, but the closer we got the more excited I grew. Butterflies began doing little flips in my stomach. Whatever had suddenly changed his mood was big. I could tell that much. By the time we reached my apartment on the outskirts of downtown Olympia, the rain had let up.

Isaac parked around the corner from the entrance to the complex. When we got out, I immediately headed for my place. It may not have been actively raining, but that didn't mean it was dry either. Before I'd taken more than a step, Isaac was at my side, his hand gripping my arm too tightly. Panic shot through me. First of all, how did he get to my side of the car so fast, and secondly, why was he holding on to me?

I tried to pull my arm free, but his grip hardened. My eyes widened in instinctual fright. He spun me around until my back rested against his chest, and a hand clamped over my mouth. I suddenly realized I could have been screaming this whole time! He jerked me back into an alley just as the rain picked up. Was he really attacking me? This was Isaac after all—the gentleman. My brain said no, but the panic, making my heart beat faster and my limbs tingle, said yes. When we reached the darker shadows of the alley, I realized this was very real.

Now, I don't know a lot about self-defense, but I do know all guys have one extremely sensitive area. I tried to kick it with my heels. Not an easy task when someone is dragging you away with what felt like inhuman strength. What little part of my brain was working realized that Isaac would naturally seem much stronger. He pushed me up against the wall of what I thought to be the dry cleaners, though I was a little turned around. Can you blame me?

My eyes widened when he took his left hand off of me and bit into his own wrist.

_What the hell?_ I thought at the time and tried to use that moment to pull free, but found that he was too fast and way too strong. He had me pinned against the wall again before I had taken two steps. Using his hip to hold me against the wall, he pried my mouth open with his free hands and filled it with his bleeding wrist. I gagged and sputtered, trying not to swallow. When he ran out of patience, he plugged my nose and tipped my head back. I couldn't help but swallow; if I didn't I was going to suffocate.

People always say blood is like sucking on a penny. I don't know what they're talking about; it's warm, sticky, and damn nasty! After a few swallows, he pulled his wrist away. Tears began to stream down my face, mixing with the rain and Isaac's blood that now covered my chin and neck. What was going on? Again, I tried to scurry away, but it was no use: he was just too strong. I had always known Isaac worked out, but in this moment he seemed beyond human. Or maybe the whole drinking blood thing had me freaked out.

Some people define fear as a stimulus that aids in an animal's—or human's—survival instinct. Of course, when you experience it, such a definition falls short. On the other hand, the Bible says to only "fear Him who, after your body has been killed, has authority to throw you into hell." No offense to Luke, but when you're faced with death, you're too busy fearing your killer to think beyond that. Neither the Bible nor the dictionary could describe what I felt as Isaac bent over my wet shoulder and bit into my neck.

_Wait, what?_ He bit _me? Yes, oh yes, he bit me_. My mind raced wildly as the unnatural happened right there in the alley. _Was his gentleman façade meant to cover up a serial killer? Was he trying to emulate my books? Did that even happen?_

A piercing pain shot through my neck, down my shoulder, and out my fingertips, breaking off my brief train of thought. I began to scream, but that just reminded him to recover my mouth with his free hand. The pain increased as he readjusted his bite.

_What? Once wasn't enough?_ Fire shot through the two bite locations as his teeth dug deeper. Were human teeth always this sharp?

_If I live through this, Jordan is never going to let me forget it_ , I thought absently as I wiggled against his painful grasp. My energy quickly began to fade. I started to feel cold and sleepy. I kept trying to push him away. I wasn't the type to just give up, but my shoves were getting pathetic. Even in my hazy frame of mind, I knew there was no hope. My limbs started to feel like they were made of overcooked spaghetti. With the last of my strength, I tried to shove his head away. When that failed, I slumped against his solid body. Fade to black.

# Chapter Four

When I woke, there was nothing slow or peaceful about it. One minute I was completely out, the next I was on my feet and aware of everything around me. I was in an empty cage made of iron bars. The bars were securely planted into the concrete ceiling and floor of what seemed to be a basement. The cage looked completely inescapable—except for the door standing wide open. That seemed rather pointless. The cell was empty, except for my own frantic body. The room's walls were bare, except for one door open to a set of steep stairs.

Though I spotted a short man with a shocking array of red hair sitting in a folding chair, reading a magazine, I didn't wait to exchange pleasantries. I bolted through the open door and out of the room. Two guards stood on the other side of the door. I heard them trying to pursue me, but I was too fast. Don't ask me how I suddenly became so athletic; maybe sheer terror had given me wings. Whatever the case may be, I bolted up the concrete stairs and found myself in a wide hallway without windows. I glanced one way, and then another. At one end, a narrow staircase headed upward. I charged up it, taking the steps three at a time. Though some might be able to do that with ease, at five foot four, I found it a little harder than impossible. Somehow I made it to the exterior door before the pursuing men had reached the hallway.

I slammed against the release bar and propelled myself into the sunny morning rays. At first, I was surprised to see the sun peeking over the buildings of downtown Olympia—it doesn't do that often here. The next second, I was screaming in pain and writhing on the sidewalk. I looked at my bare arms and legs. Red blisters were quickly forming on my flesh. It looked as though my skin was actually boiling. Before I could seek some sort of remedy, my two followers had arrived and stepped out into the sunlight. They did not begin to boil, but picked me up by the arms and legs and carried me back into the building.

The redhead waited at the bottom of the narrow stairs, well away from the swath of light that penetrated the deep bunker, with his magazine tucked under his arm. The burly men set me down in the hallway, while the redhead knelt beside me, staring at my damaged flesh. To my astonishment, the damaged skin was healing before my eyes. Within seconds, it was back to its normal Washington pastiness.

The redhead waved the other men away. They went back down the steps into the room with the cage. "My name is Josh," said the remaining man.

"What's going on?" I demanded.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

His statement didn't comfort me, so I didn't respond.

"I need you to listen very carefully—"

"What is going on?" I snapped, my ability to cope with weird stuff long gone. When he didn't answer me immediately, I rose to my feet and began to march down the hallway, away from the door leading into the sunlight. Josh rose with me, grabbing my arm before I could make it two steps.

"I will tell you, but you have to prepare yourself for something you might not believe. And you have to let me finish before you go running off."

I nodded slowly, after which he released my arm.

"So... um... " He stuttered, obviously trying to find the right words. "Well... you see... uh... look there's no easy way to say this... "

I tried to imagine what he might be leading up to. Had I contracted some horrible disease that made me boil in the sun? That seemed a little far-fetched.

"You see... you're a vampire now," the red-head finished.

I don't know what response he expected, but evidently my loud and slightly hysterical laughter wasn't it.

"You're a funny, funny man!" I said, thumping him on his shoulder.

He stared at me, waiting for the laughter to die away. When I noticed his serious look, I stopped. Crap, this guy was for real.

Great! I'm in some sort of basement fortress with a lunatic. Or maybe a crazed fan.

"What happened when you went outside?" he asked.

I hesitated. "It was a fluke?" I hadn't meant to ask a question.

Josh gestured toward the door at the top of the steps. In an act of sheer defiance, I marched up the steps, pushed the door open, and immediately regretted it. The sun shone through the opening, searing my skin again. I jumped back, letting the weight of the door pull it shut. Like before, the damage on my arm healed in a matter of seconds.

The short man stood at the bottom of the steps, waiting patiently.

It couldn't be true. Vampires were fictitious creations of Hollywood and those who wanted to make money—I should know! I was one of those slimy bastards out to make a buck. Of course, my vampires didn't burn in the sun. Sure, I'd seen Brad Pitt in "Interview with a Vampire," but it seemed too ridiculous for my books.

Evidently, I was wrong. Very wrong!

"What would happen if I stayed in the sun?" I asked.

"You would die, turn to ashes," he said.

"For real?" There was no belief tinting my tone of voice, as I thought back to when Kristen Dunst turned into ash.

Josh nodded solemnly. The twinkle in his eye suggested he was struggling to keep a straight face. It was enough to send me into a tizzy.

"No!" I shrieked, pushing past him and stomping back down the hallway. I didn't know where I was going, but I had to do something in protest. It couldn't be! I couldn't accept it.

With quick steps, Josh caught up and kept me from reaching the next doorway. It was a double door made of thick wood that looked like oak and it didn't match the undecorated interior of the concrete hall. On the other side of the hallway was another, wider staircase leading up to a set of metal doors.

"Listen!" He grabbed my arms to force me to stand still. "Can you hear the music playing in there?" he asked, nodding toward the wooden doors on our level.

I hesitated a moment, pretending to listen. The thing was I didn't have to try to hear the music. It came through loud enough. "Mozart?" I asked, not quite certain which classical composer it was.

"Chopin actually. And the T.V. up there?" He nodded toward the second floor.

I didn't hesitate this time. "I hear a basketball game and a talk show and, um, the news," I added as more sounds came to my ears. How many TVs did they have up there?

He nodded again. "And conversations?"

There were many to choose from. I could hear two women discussing a man, who was evidently quite attractive. A man was commenting on his new car. I heard another man order a drink and the waiter respond. Other people were laughing and telling jokes. I heard one person talking about werewolves. I shuddered, the new skill thoroughly creeping me out.

"It can't be," I whispered.

"It's true. Are you hungry?"

I stopped to assess how my body felt. Though there was an underlying craving for something I couldn't name, I felt fine. Well, more tired than fine. I belatedly remembered Isaac attacking me. My fingers reached up to my neck on their own accord. There wasn't a scratch, much less the gaping wound that should have been there. Had it all been a dream, or, rather, a horrible nightmare?

"Do you remember who attacked you?"

I felt my stomach twitch and my shoulders tense. Panic took its place in my gut; I remembered the incident all too clearly. "Isaac... Wilson," I croaked, my throat going tight while my eyes burned, as though they had tears to shed.

"Isaac?" Josh asked as an emotion I couldn't translate flickering across his face. "C'mon, let's get you settled for the day."

He draped his arm over my shoulder in a familiar manner and escorted me past the carved double doors. We passed a few other doors, spread far apart. At the end of the hallway lay another staircase leading into a lower level. The next long hall was lined with numerous doors. He opened the third one and escorted me in. I became thankful for my escort, as this place was a labyrinth of passages.

The room looked like a spacious studio apartment built for the upper class: expensive furnishings and decorations, even if the space was built for only one person. I'd expected another sterile, concrete bunker. There was nothing sterile about this room. The walls were covered in cherry wood paneling, the real stuff, not the seventies' knock-offs, and numerous framed movie posters. The left wall held signed Star Wars posters, noticeably omitting the prequels. Under the posters sat an expensive-looking, wood futon—oxymoron, I know—and two matching globe chairs, all with the subtle oddities of handcrafted furniture. The right wall contained a modern-looking queen bed that seemed almost out of place. Over the matching nightstands hung posters for Ben Hur and Casablanca. The far corner held a large bathroom with a thick curtain that could be drawn around it. Though the room didn't contain a kitchen, it did have a decent sized fridge tucked into the corner.

Josh motioned me toward the futon. It was one of those contraptions that could fold into nearly any shape. Before sitting, I rearranged my dress, hoping to look a little less bedraggled. I even tried to run my fingers through my matted hair. Josh took a seat at the other end of the futon, clearly trying to not make me uncomfortable.

"Is this for real?"

Josh nodded. "Now, what is your name?"

"Ashley Hawn," I said.

"The author?" he asked.

I nodded.

Josh jumped up off the couch and dove across the room to a bookcase I hadn't noticed before. He grabbed two books and tossed them into my lap. I quickly recognized the cover art as my own. It was funny to find a fan in such a weird situation, but I couldn't bring myself to laugh.

"They're funny," he said with a snicker.

"They weren't written to be funny," I said, my voice sounding dead even to my own ears. "Why would Isaac do this?"

"I don't know. I've never heard of Isaac ever turning someone."

"You know him?" I yawned. Despite being unconscious all night, I still felt exhausted, as though it was late in the night rather than early morning.

He nodded. "There aren't that many of us scurrying around Olympia. Now this time of transition will be rough, and will probably take a while. Do you have anyone who might notice your absence? Family? Friends?"

"No family. Two friends who would notice. And I have a couple days off, too."

"Will you call your friends and tell them you're sick or something? Something that will keep them from checking on you for the next week or so."

Part of my mind said that was a very bad idea. After all, this guy could be a serial killer.

_A very high-end serial killer,_ I thought as I glanced up at the room. Still, I couldn't explain away the new sensations coursing through my body, or the way I had reacted to the sun. Either way, I wouldn't be able to go home till the sun set. I reached for the phone he offered and dialed Jordan's number.

"This is Jordan," he announced in his business tone.

"It's Ashley."

"Hey, shorty."

"Hey, Jordan."

"What's up? It's Ash," he said, his mouth pulled away from the receiver. I assumed Chloe was with him. "Hey how was your Isaac time," he asked, slurring the words into a sneer.

"Be nice," I heard Chloe say, sounding as if she held the phone herself, though I knew she wasn't. That was too weird.

I cringed, remembering how Isaac had overpowered me. "Um... nothing special really. Probably a good thing, cause I'm sick now. Feeling pretty awful."

"That sucks. Ashley's sick," he said for Chloe's benefit. "I'll bring you dinner tonight."

"I can make soup," she offered.

"No!" I snapped, a little too quickly. There was a lengthy pause. "I mean, I don't want you to get this from me. It's pretty nasty. I'll call you in a few days. Enjoy some time with Chloe."

"Okay... " drawled Jordan.

"Talk to you later," I added before hanging up the phone. The conversation had not gone as planned. It sounded like one of those horrible lies one hears on sitcoms where you wonder why the other person doesn't realize they're being lied to.

"He buy it?" Josh asked.

I nodded hesitantly before yawning again.

"Don't worry, Ashley. I won't hurt you... Get some sleep," Josh added as he bent down and pulled a thick blanket out from under the futon. He added a pillow to the bedding before standing up and shifting over to the curtain that concealed his bathroom.

"But I have so many questions."

"And they'll wait until you get some rest."

I hesitated, wondering if Jordan or Chloe would miss me while I was out "sick." Considering their new dating status, I figured they'd be too distracted to regret my absence. I nestled down onto the futon, glad to fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.

# Chapter Five

I woke some hours later, my leg draped over the blanket and my dress hiked way too high. I quickly covered myself while searching for Josh. Right on cue, Josh pushed the curtain aside and appeared at the edge of the bathroom area, his red hair glistening in the soft light coming from the lamp on the far nightstand.

"How bout I take you home so you can get cleaned up before we start introducing you to people," he suggested. I liked that idea. He helped me up and we left his room.

"What is this place?" I asked in a whisper as we headed up the steps, passing another man who watched us closely.

"This is where those in my seethe are safe."

"Seethe?"

"Family of vampires. This place is like our headquarters."

"You live here?" I asked.

"I have a room, but I also keep a private apartment."

I heard a door from behind me open and shut. "It's been ages!" came a female voice from what sounded like a great distance.

"All right Emma, I'll try and come visit you," stated a disembodied voice, much closer at hand. We turned to see a tall man with a wide jaw, dark brown hair carefully styled, and green eyes that faded to red near the center. He was carefully sliding a sleek cell phone into his pocket. I felt a little mesmerized. He made Isaac look like a hillbilly. So much for not meeting anyone until I cleaned up. "This her?" he asked from the doorway.

"Yes, sir," responded Josh in a respectful voice. "Nikolai, may I introduce Ashley Hawn. Ashley, Nikolai Krasniy."

The tall man nodded to me and turned toward Josh. "She finished?"

Josh nodded.

"Good." Nikolai glanced quickly at me. "Get her cleaned up and bring her to meet Mikhail."

I bristled at his tone and choice of words. Though I knew I looked like the loser of a mud wrestling match, I didn't appreciate him pointing it out. A gentleman wouldn't have brought attention to it. I wanted to make some snarky response about his own need to get "cleaned up," but the truth was he was just too pristine. Not to mention he was wearing the suit of all suits. Now, I've seen some pretty nice suits before, but this one was in a league of its own. It hung from the man in sleek, well-ironed lines.

Instead of talking back, I glared up at him. It was the best I could manage. I wondered if he'd look as nice after going through what I had. He noticed it and condescended to ignore me. Josh, sensing the tension forming, took me by the arm and led me away, my bare feet pattering against the floor. We went to the door where I had first discovered my sensitivity to the sun. Thankfully, the sun was set and I walked out without the slightest discomfort.

We walked through the dimly lit streets of Olympia toward my apartment, passing a few teenagers and the occasional politician—Olympia was the state capital, after all. The city also had quite a few colorful bars which were slowly filling. We reached my apartment in less than two minutes, with only one or two pointed looks at my lack of shoes and matted hair. But this was the land of hippies; my matted hair could just be dreadlocks and my lack of shoes a choice of conscience—anti-child labor maybe? Then again, I didn't know too many hippies that wore little, slinky black dresses. We weaved through the courtyard and into the narrow staircase leading up to my door. I could almost hear Josh's thoughts as I stopped at my paint-chipped door—people actually live in these dumps? Belatedly, I realized I didn't have my purse with me anymore, and thus my keys. I glanced at him and he seemed to understand. He reached for my door handle, twisted it easily, and pushed it open. I heard a crunch as the deadbolt tore through my wall and cringed. That was going to cost. Thankfully, Josh's inhuman strength distracted me.

_How_ the hell had _he done that?_ Seeing vampire strength in real life was a far cry from reading about it in books.

We entered my dingy apartment. I looked around, the whole place taking on a new light while in the presence of a stranger.

"You live here?" he asked, echoing my previous thoughts.

I tried not to take offense at it. "Unlike some people, I'm not rolling in it. My books aren't that popular."

I moved into my apartment, hoping to find some comfort food. "Do you want anything?"

"No."

"I can still eat food right? I mean, Isaac ate in front of me."

"Yes, you can eat food, but it won't be as satisfying."

I shrugged and closed the fridge door, no longer really interested in food. Nothing looked good. I couldn't figure out what I was craving.

"Why don't you go shower?" Josh suggested. "I'll wait here."

I hesitated a moment before realizing there was nothing of value for him to steal.

I gathered up clothing that in no way resembled a cocktail dress—jeans and a T-shirt—and shuffled into the bathroom. Once out of the shower, I dressed and returned to the main room. I threw my wet hair up into a ponytail and stuffed my feet into my most waterproof pair of boots. Josh sat on the edge of my bed, petting Muffler. I filled Muffler's bowls while the cat was happily distracted. On the way out of the door, I grabbed my brown leather jacket, and I followed him down the stairs and out onto the street.

"So do—do vampires, like, live forever? Like in my books?"

"Well, we don't die of old age, but we can still die. And far more easily than in your books."

"Then how old are you?" I asked, an uncomfortable idea forming in my mind.

"I was born in 1952 and turned at the age of twenty-one."

"So, you're really sixty years old?" I ask after a brief pause to calculate his age. Math wasn't exactly my best subject—hence the writing.

Josh chuckled at the clear sound of shock and disgust. "Yes. I'm an old fart in your eyes—though barely middle-aged compared to many of my seethe. Well, soon to be your see... "

Josh was cut off by a blow to the back. He fell to the ground, blood spurting from his broken nose and tainting the sidewalk. I turned to see a man dressed in dated black jeans, a black sweatshirt, and a knit hat pulled down to his eyebrows. At first, I thought it was just your average mugging—whatever that means—but the attacker immediately turned toward me, arms outstretched, as though I was the item he intended to steal. He ignored Josh. I panicked, not having the faintest idea how to defend myself.

My panic sadly didn't produce a speedy retreat. Rather, I became glued in place, my eyes wide with fright. My breath caught painfully in my chest, keeping me from screaming. Thankfully, the blow to Josh's head hadn't muddled his thoughts. He pushed himself off his knees, launching himself into the attacker's legs. The man in black toppled over onto Josh's back.

Without really thinking about it, I jumped forward and slammed my fists into his back. I felt a newfound power surge through my muscles. The man grunted and rolled off Josh. Evidently, my blow was harder than I realized because he didn't get up as quickly as Josh. The redhead swung his leg into the attacker's rib cage. I heard a faint crack of ribs breaking. Was I supposed to be able to hear that?

_Well, I am a vampire now,_ I thought in a smug mental voice.

Josh jumped in between me and the other man as our attacker climbed back to his feet, his body hunched slightly toward his left side. "Give her to me," the stranger ordered, his voice constricted with pain.

Josh and I both hesitated, too surprised by his demand. "Who are you?" Josh finally asked.

The man grinned, circling to the left, which forced Josh to shift. I stayed behind Josh, as I sensed he wanted me to do. Considering I had no idea what was going on or how to fight, it seemed a good idea.

"Who sent you?" asked Josh in an effort to get any response from the stranger.

"My primus, of course," stated the man, with a chuckle, right before he lunged at Josh. Josh was at least six, maybe even nine inches shorter than his attacker, but he was a great deal faster. Josh managed to take two steps forward and duck before their bodies collided. He used his low center of gravity to flip the other man over his shoulder while taking hold of one of the man's legs. The move resulted in our attacker slamming head-first into the pavement. His skull collapsed in a sickeningly crunchy splat.

I don't know what response I expected from myself, but I'm sure it was not throwing up. Nevertheless, I dropped to the ground and started heaving, but there wasn't anything in my stomach to expel. I barely managed to spit up some useless bile.

Josh moved before I could finish. He leaned over the man and quite literally tore his head from his shoulders. The body instantly turned to dust. I gasped and scooted away from the pile that was slowly turning to mud, thanks to the annoying drizzle.

"W-w-what just happened?" I stammered after swallowing a few times to get the taste out of my mouth.

"We'll talk when we're safe," he said, spitting blood from his lips in a totally manly, and not at all gross sort of way. Josh pulled me to my feet and guided me away from the site. We were still a number of blocks away from the vampire bunker. Josh nudged me down an alley, presumably to avoid notice. After all, he couldn't clean his bloodstained face. Strangely, the broken nose didn't seem to be bleeding anymore. We weaved through the alleys, avoiding the attention of the local nightlife.

Josh yanked on my leather jacket, pulling me to a stop beside a nondescript door. He banged on the door in a rhythmic fashion and stepped back. It swung open a second later, nearly taking my nose off. A man I didn't recognize glanced at us before stepping aside and to let us in.

"What happened to you, Josh?" the man asked as he followed us down the steps.

# Chapter Six

"Where's Mikhail?" Josh snapped, ignoring the man's question.

The man didn't hesitate, but pointed toward the intricate double doors, his brows furrowed in confusion. Josh stormed down the hallway, and I did my best to keep up. He took my wrist, pushed the nearest door open, and entered the room. Again, my expectations fell short.

The entire room was arranged like a furniture store that catered to the modern shopper. Matching couches, with straight lines and harsh corners, were bunched into small living room sets, including coffee tables and end tables of all shapes and sizes. The walls were covered in entertainment centers, symmetrical bookcases, and the occasional fireplace. Modern art, conveying no meaning whatsoever, beckoned the eye not to notice the lack of windows. Well-dressed individuals sat in conversation, drinking from crystal glasses.

In contrast to the ultra-modern look, classical music played softly in the background and two enormous, antique grand pianos sat in the back corners surrounded by special seating for those who chose to listen to the performers. Just to the left and right of the door stood two matching pool tables. The one to the left was in use.

A young man, barely out of adolescence, leaned over the edge of the table and tapped a ball into the corner pocket. His curly hair hung down past his ears and hid his face. "What happened?" he asked without turning to look at us. Was he psychic?

"We were attacked, sir."

I glanced back and forth between the bloodstained Josh and the younger man. There was something between them I wasn't catching. Josh stood stock still, his shoulders pulled back, as though he were a cadet being inspected by his commanding officer.

"Clearly," sighed the teenager. He turned to look at us, leaning his backside against the edge of the table while idly picking up his glass and sipping an amber-colored liquid. I doubted he was old enough to drink alcohol. I had to remind myself that age could be deceptive with vampires, and after seeing a man turn to dust, I couldn't really doubt their existence anymore.

Though I wanted to doubt. I wanted to very badly.

"A man from Richard's seethe ambushed us, demanding I give him Ashley."

"Ashley?" asked the youth, glancing at me for the first time. I was starting to get annoyed. Being ignorant wasn't pleasant. And having a teenager eye me with disdain was even worse. "So this is the stray?"

I bristled at his words. _Stray?_

"This is Ashley Hawn. Ashley, this is Mikhail Bartrey, my primus," he added, emphasizing the title in a not-so-subtle hint. "Isaac Wilson changed her, but abandoned her."

"Isaac huh? And now a man attacked you, broke your nose, and demanded her back?"

Josh nodded.

"It seems, little Josh, you have managed to stumble into a complete mess," growled the youth while he dropped his pool cue onto the table, the movement disrupting most of the remaining balls.

Josh nodded, keeping his eyes on the ground.

"And what makes you so special?" Mikhail asked, his bright eyes searching me with interest.

I shrugged and glared defiantly at him. I was hungry, confused, and annoyed; such emotions never brought out the best in me. Mikhail cocked an eyebrow at me, not backing down despite my ferocious glare, which has frightened puppies and babies alike.

"I've never heard of Isaac siring anyone, much less doing so and leaving them," commented Mikhail before taking a sip of his drink. He seemed determined to ignore my insolence. That just annoyed me more. I'm like one of those brat children that act out for attention. Not very mature, I know.

"Something must have scared him off?" suggested Josh.

I tried to think back to the attack, but I couldn't remember anything useful.

"Wait! What's siring?" I demanded.

"Shhh," hissed Josh.

"Oh shhh yourself," I snapped, tired of being in the dark. All the rules that held my reality together had changed, crumbled. I had to know the new rules.

"Your sire is the vampire who turned you. Now be quiet," ordered Mikhail.

I glared at him, unable to think of anything worth saying in response.

"What would scare off Isaac?" Mikhail asked.

Josh's eyes widened at the thought. Evidently, the answer was something really big and nasty. It was hard to believe, I thought as I remembered the pain of his attack. Mikhail nodded at Josh's silent response.

"I think the bigger question is 'why would Isaac turn her in the first place,'" said Josh.

Mikhail took another sip of his liquid, the wheels in his head clearly turning. The silence dragged on, though the others in the large room continued to talk in subdued voices. I glanced at Josh, who was still eying Mikhail. I was about to say something, anything, when Nikolai, the man in the fancy suit, stepped forward from the other side of the pool table. I hadn't even noticed him standing there.

"It seems the best solution would be to kill her and be done with it," he said.

"Excuse me?" I snapped, appalled.

Josh stepped forward and grabbed my arm, but I shook him off as I marched right up to the tall man. When someone is more than a foot taller than you, it's not wise to pick a fight. What can I say; I'm not very wise.

"You just wanna whack me for your convenience?"

"If your life is a threat to this seethe, then yes," Nikolai said in a matter-of-fact tone.

Without thinking, I pulled back my arm and swung at his face. I didn't even get halfway through the swing before he had me pinned to the pool table, the cue ball digging painfully into my cheek. "Not a good idea," he whispered in my ear, a faint hint of a Russian accent leaking through.

"Let her up, Nikolai," Mikhail ordered in a calm voice. "She'll learn."

After a few seconds of hesitation, the suit let me up. I shrugged him off and stomped a few steps away. A new, more intense silence settled over us. I slowly realized the other conversations had ceased as well. Only the music filled the uncomfortable stillness.

"You aren't going to kill her, are you Mikhail?" Josh asked in a humble, yet plaintive voice.

"Have you taken a liking to her?" scoffed Nikolai. I glared at him from a safe distance. Would it be so shocking if Josh did like me? I was likable!

"It isn't fair. She shouldn't have to die for our safety. It is not her actions that threaten us. Besides, do we really want to do that without knowing what Isaac wanted with her?" Josh asked. That seemed to sink in. Mikhail eyed me, his wheels turning again.

"We'll keep her for now," announced Mikhail after a few seconds consideration. "And she'll be under your protection, Nik."

"What? Why me?"

"This is more than Josh can handle. He's young and inexperienced. What would happen if he went up against Isaac?"

"No, no, no," I interrupted. "He'll just leave me on Isaac's doorstep, or worse, kill me himself!" I added, waving toward Nikolai.

Mikhail smiled. "Nikolai will do no such thing."

I glared at Nikolai, but he was already eying me like a bug to be squashed.

"What about my work?" I heard myself pleading. "I have rent to pay and I'm already behind. I have to work the day after tomorrow." I was grasping at straws; anything to get away from this handsome man who wanted to kill me.

"Kinda missing the point Ashley," murmured Josh through his closed teeth. Clearly, he didn't like me arguing with his master.

"I don't care about his point," I snapped back, equally irritated. "My point is not becoming homeless." My annoyance was increasing tenfold. When I went out on a date last night, I hadn't planned on getting involved in a mystical war. Or was it more of a police action, like Vietnam?

Hell if I knew. I didn't understand anything about anything!

"What about staying alive? You seemed pretty interested in that," said the tall man in an annoyingly smug voice. I shot him a dirty look, which he ignored by taking a sip of his drink.

"Enough," commanded Mikhail, his voice displaying his own Russian heritage. "Ashley, we will make sure that you do not lose your apartment. Nik, take her to your place. Let her get acclimated to our lifestyle while I figure out what's going on."

Nikolai nodded and took me by the arm. He dragged me out the way Josh and I had entered through the nondescript side door. We crossed the street, my arm still in his hand, and stopped at an expensive looking car. He released me, flinging me at the passenger side door.

"Get in," Nikolai growled. I hesitated a moment. I didn't want to exchange Josh's company for that of a man who hated me.

But a gust of wet wind had me scrambling for the door handle. I climbed in and admired the interior. It was better than thinking about the man sitting in the next seat. I didn't have a clue what kind of car it was, but I knew I was supposed to be impressed. The dashboard was coated in a fine, black leather, rather than made of plastic like most American cars. I settled into my bucket seat, feeling like my ass would scrape the pavement if we tried to go over a speed bump. Nikolai started the engine by pushing a button. It purred to life and the interior lights bathed us in a muted, blue glow.

We drove through the dark for what seemed like an eternity. Evidently being a vampire didn't make me any more patient.

_Ugh... vampire_.

My mind revolted against the whole idea. It was just too insane! Never mind that I made my meager living providing this fantasy for others. There just weren't people who never aged and were killed by the sun. And yet I had seen a man turn to dust.

But vampires?

Finally, when my mind couldn't take any more thinking, we pulled into a long driveway lined with trees that were well on their way to being leafless. The driveway itself was at least a mile long. What sort of place was this?

It turned out to be a mansion. Of course. He had the expensive suit and the nice car, so why not a mansion to top it off? Granted, he might have had centuries to acquire wealth. The building was white with many more windows than I would have expected in a vampire's home. As we got closer, I realized heavy drapery obscured my view of the inside.

He led me up to the massive double doors, opened them, and ushered me in.

"I thought vamps have to be invited in," I said, unable to censure myself.

"Yet more proof you know nothing about vampires, Miss Hawn," he said, with forced politeness. It came out condescending and jerky. "Only to the houses of the living. You and I are technically dead."

That took me a moment to digest. _Technically dead? What did that mean?_ I tried to wrap my brain around it but realized it would take more than just a few seconds to adjust to. Nikolai didn't give me time to finish my musings. He pushed me through the door.

To my complete astonishment, an unnatural blond bounced forward. I suspected she was human. I didn't know why I thought that, but I did. My astonishment increased when she reached up and hugged Nikolai, pecking lightly him on the cheek.

She was the type of middle-aged dish that probably had been Miss Wisconsin and still bragged about it. Her blonde hair framed her face in feathery disarray. She smiled at me, her eyes wrinkling with laugh lines emphasized by a layer or two of foundation. Miss Wisconsin was dressed in those fuzzy workout pants that clearly were not designed for working out and a matching zip-up sweatshirt.

"Ashley Hawn, this is Shirley O'Brian."

I nodded toward her, not sure what else to do.

"Are you thirsty, sweetheart?" she asked me.

I glanced at Nikolai. Did she know what he was...? I mean what we were?

"Yes, she knows. And yes, Miss Hawn is thirsty. Please bring her something to drink. We'll be in my study."

Had Nikolai read my mind? Or was the confusion that obvious on my face?

The woman sauntered off, her still-shapely butt swaying with each step. Once she was gone, I was able to admire, or rather gawk at, his house. We stood in a wide entryway with enormous arched windows that reached from floor to ceiling. A winding staircase headed up to the second story and down to a basement, connecting with the foyer to my left. To my right was a swinging door, through which I had spotted signs of an enormous kitchen when Miss Wisconsin went to get my drink. Straight ahead lay a massive arch leading to what appeared to be a living room large enough to hold a royal ball.

Nikolai took me by the arm and led me up the winding staircase, his grip rather tight. From the top, I looked down to see an intricate design in the marble flooring that I had not noticed before. If it had been an "X," I would have made an Indiana Jones crack—something I doubted Nikolai would have understood. I would have killed for a staircase like this while growing up: to slide down the banister as a child, and to glide down in a prom dress as a teenager. The stairs stopped at a landing that extended into a long hallway before heading up to a third level. Nikolai took me to the first door on the second level.

His study was the sort that one only sees in movies. The tall walls were completely lined with bookshelves. I even suspected there might be a doorway hidden behind one of the many shelves. Most of the racks held books that looked old, even ancient. One shelf held newer books—murder mysteries by the looks of them. The center of the room was dominated by an elegantly carved desk sitting on a rug, the design that could keep me entertained for hours. I wanted to laugh and say "Colonel Mustard, in the library, with the lead pipe!" But I kept the thought to myself. Nikolai sat at his desk and motioned me over to one of the leather couches.

I hesitated a moment before plopping down on the one nearest his desk. It made an embarrassing farting noise as my jeans rubbed against the leather—which caused me to blush slightly. I held in my childish giggle. Before the silence could get too uncomfortable, or before I could finish tracing the patterns on his rug, a young man pushed the door open and bounced into the room, carrying a book, a binder, and a number two pencil. He went straight past the two couches, completely oblivious to my presence.

"Nikolai, Shirley said you were back. I need help with my calc homework."

The vampire sighed and pointedly directed his eyes toward where I sat. "Dan, I am with someone."

The young student turned and eyed me for a second.

"Hi," he said, in a way that suggested he wanted to continue with "how you do'n."

I smiled back before glancing at Nikolai. Nikolai cleared his throat and looked pointedly at Dan.

"Oh right. Sorry." Dan scurried out.

"So... what's with the humans?" I asked, the phrase coming out stilted since I wasn't used to the idea of not being human myself.

"I don't want to talk about them."

I blinked. He was a grumpy one. I wanted to push, but Miss Wisconsin entered with my drink. She held out a tall glass with what appeared to be thick, red Kool-Aid or fruit punch. Neither of those sounded very good, but I was willing to drink it to be polite. The surprise came when I noticed the smell of the drink; it was much better than fruit punch. The smell made my breath come faster and my stomach dance a quick jig of excitement. Before I could take the glass from her hand, a couple different things happened. I'm not sure which came first, but I started to scream as my gums burned and pressure invaded my mouth. At about the same time, Nikolai bolted from his seat behind the desk and placed himself between me and the drink. In retrospect, I'm not sure if I was thinking of the glass or the human.

I rolled off the couch, my hands pressed against my mouth, and landed near Nikolai's feet. Why did it hurt so badly? It felt like my wisdom teeth were coming in again, except this time it was in the front of my mouth and it was happening all at once, rather than over the course of years. I shrieked again as a new pain emerged. I felt as though I was swallowing the coarsest sandpaper ever invented. Fire erupted in my throat, searing what was left after the sandpaper had finished its work. I'm pretty sure I could have breathed flames at that point. My hands shifted to my throat as I continued to scream.

Beyond my own noise making, I heard the door open and worried voices asking what was wrong. Suddenly the pain in my throat got worse. My unfamiliar, feverish desire heightened tenfold. Nikolai sent the visitors away immediately. _No!_ my crazed mind screamed. _Don't take it away!_

I jumped to my feet and lunged at the nearest human. Strong arms caught me around my waist and held me back. I jerked from side to side, trying vainly to break free of Nikolai's grasp. He was strong, very strong, but I felt my own, newfound strength rising up in protest. Without thinking through my options, I jerked my head back and slammed it against his face.

The shock of the move loosened his grip. I lunged forward as the remaining humans dashed out of the room, slamming the door in my face. I barreled straight into the solid, wooden fixture and fell in a heap on the floor. By this time, Nikolai had regained his composure, though his nose was broken and blood was pouring down his face. I grabbed the door handle and began hauling myself up when his arm slipped around my neck in a ferocious choke hold. He dragged me across the room, my cries of defiance silenced by the strong arm constricting my airway. The edge of my vision began to go black.

"Stop it!" he sputtered as I continued to struggle. I felt Nikolai's flowing blood warm the back of my head. Gross!

I attempted one last bid for freedom before darkness took me. I failed.

# Chapter Seven

When I woke up, I was lying on the floor. Nikolai was squatting on his haunches near my head. The only sign of him having had his nose broken was the small change in the shape and the few streaks of blood he'd missed when cleaning.

"Here, drink this," Nikolai said. He reached for the glass Miss Wisconsin had brought.

I sat up. Without thinking, I grabbed it and chugged the whole thing. It was downright divine. I had never tasted anything like it. I couldn't imagine any manmade beverage being this amazing. It calmed the burning in my throat and the hyperactive circus still parading through my stomach. When the liquid was gone, I panted for a few minutes trying to catch my breath. Nikolai watched me closely, his hands relaxed, though the look on his face suggested he was ready for me to make another dash for the door. Finally, when my head was a little clearer, I wiped the back of my hand across my mouth. It came back dark red.

"What is this?" My even voice seemed to calm him. Nikolai stood up. I followed his example.

"Blood. What did you think it was?"

"Blood?" I asked stupidly. "I drank blood?"

"Even your horrible books have vampires drinking blood," he neared.

I was myself enough to glare at him. Though I realized my books were a far cry from true literature, he didn't have to rub my face in it.

"We're vampires, Ashley. We drink blood. It is what keeps us alive, or whatever we are."

"Human blood?"

"What do you think?" he scoffed. "Yes, human blood."

I dropped back onto the leather couch, my hands going to my head. "What just happened to me?"

"You smelled human blood for the first time and it triggered your desire. Josh should have fed you already."

"I—I tried to kill that woman. Shirley?"

Nikolai just nodded.

"Will it always be like this?"

"That depends entirely on you," he said in that annoyingly matter-of-fact voice. He didn't even sound ruffled. "You will have to work to gain control. All vampires do."

"I don't want to be a vampire!" I screamed and flung the empty glass at the door, a few stray drops of blood splattering against the wood while the glass shards clinked noisily onto the polished hardwood floors. Why couldn't they understand this? Why did he have to be so calm about what was obviously the end of my life?

"You are a vampire." Nikolai was suddenly right in front of me and hauling me off the couch. His two hands dug painfully into my shoulders. "You are a monster! That desire for blood will never leave you!"

"Do you feed off those people?" I asked the look of terror in their eyes still fresh in my memory.

"Yes."

"You bastard!" I shrieked back, pushing him away. He released me and moved with my push, but I had a feeling it was more due to his nature than my strength.

"Listen to me, Ashley..."

"No! I can't be like you... a villain. I can't... "

Nikolai then did the last thing I expected—he slapped me across the face. I somersaulted over the armrest of the couch and landed a few feet away. I looked up, shock and astonishment no doubt playing on my features. My cheek blazed as though his hand was still slapping me. Nikolai glared at me, his stance indicating he was ready for me to retaliate. When I continued to stare at him, he prowled to my side and knelt in front of me.

"Are you ready to listen to me without the hysterics?" he growled, his voice sounding almost visceral. I gulped. "You have four choices. One, you can ask me to stake you right now and end what you have left of life. And trust me, it's exactly what I want to do right now. Two, you can steal from blood banks, blood that is for the sick and dying. Three, you can kill people every time you need to drink. Four, you can keep a willing food source at your disposal."

"Willing?" I asked dubiously.

Nikolai nodded and stood up. Evidently, he didn't think I was going to have another tantrum. I, personally, wasn't so sure. "There are ten humans who live in this house with me. They willingly allow me to feed on them when I need to. In exchange, they live here rent-free."

"So for rent, they give you their blood?" It didn't seem quite worth the trade, even in this posh house.

"They get a lot more than just rent. I generally pay for everything they need—cars, food, medical bills. I'm putting Dan through college."

"Bet you get a lot of action from the ladies," I grumbled, angrier at the thought of him taking advantage of the women than drinking their blood.

Nikolai smiled, showing me I wasn't too far from the truth. "Unlike what a second-rate novelist might say, it is not all about sex with us vampires."

"Sure it ain't."

His smile darkened into a glare. Boy, he was good at glaring, but I could match him on my worst day, which might have been today.

"What about animal blood?"

Nikolai laughed, though I wasn't sure why. "Animal blood is one of the worst things you could drink."

"Why?"

He sighed. "It takes away your desire for blood, fills you up. But it doesn't feed you."

"I don't get it."

"Why am I not surprised?" He paused, his eyes roving over the office, now splattered with blood, as though looking for a way to explain it. "A vampire who drinks nothing but animal blood will starve to death without even realizing it. Animal blood can't nourish us, or make us strong. All it does is lure us into a false sense of—of fullness."

I stared at the intricate rug, disheartened by his answer. If it was only a matter of not keeping us super-human strong, I wouldn't have minded. I didn't need super-human strength to be a writer, but starving to death would certainly put a kink in my plans. "And that's why you keep these people?"

"I don't want to kill people," he said as though it ought to be obvious.

"You're still a bastard," I told the rug.

Nikolai chuckled. "Of course I am. I never said it was a good alternative, but would you rather kill people? Or take from blood banks? What is it you think we ought to do?"

Instead of answering his question, which I think was rhetorical anyway, I said, "And they don't tell anyone?"

"Of course not. When a vampire drinks from a human, that human becomes drawn to them. Loyal. Some of these people I've been feeding on for years. They would never do anything to harm me."

"Convenient," I intoned, heavy with the sarcasm.

"Indeed."

I got up off the floor and rubbed my hands against my jeans in a nervous gesture. It seemed strange to just return to the couch. I eyed the blood splatter on the door and wondered if I should clean it up. Eh... he had humans for that... right? I mean, weren't they around to be his personal slaves?

I turned to peruse his books. I didn't want to look at him. His calm acceptance of what we were, and his lack of commiseration over my present situation, irked me to no end. I wondered if he even had a heart. Nikolai seemed the type to not care for anyone but himself. I heard him move to his desk and fiddle with a drawer. The silence made my skin crawl, especially as it gave me time to consider how much I didn't like him and how much I was presently in the wrong—which I didn't like either.

"Hey, Nikolai, is it safe for me to be around your—er—food source?" I asked turning back toward him. Belatedly I realized I hadn't retained even one of the titles I'd read.

Nikolai smirked. "You'll have to learn to control yourself some time, better to do it with me here to help. And you can call me Nik."

I nodded. "What would have happened if I had bitten her?"

"You'd have drunk her blood until I stopped you. Had it been a complete stranger you would have killed them, or I would have had to—to maintain our secret."

My head snapped up. "What?"

"No one can know about us. If the human world knew about the mystical world, they would rise up against us."

"Would that be such a bad thing?" I suddenly felt very depressed.

"Consider the Salem witch trials. A lot of innocent people died while very few witches did. Humans knowing only ever hurts other humans. We're too good at hiding."

Whether I liked it or not, it made sense. Again, his casual acceptance of our horrid existence made me want to vomit—all over him. I tried to pull my mind back to my present issues. "Do you think I could apologize to Shirley... and the others?"

Nik smiled at me in a way I had never seen before. It made me kind of uncomfortable. He nodded and stepped closer to me.

"When we go down there, and you feel the desire taking over, take a few deep breaths—through your mouth. I'll be right beside you, and with one look I'll have you out of there before you can hurt anyone."

I nodded. The older vampire took my hand and led me out of the library. He ignored the shattered glass, so I did too. We found them in the kitchen—which was simply one part of the enormous, L-shaped room that held the kitchen, dining room, and living room. The living room—or long part of the L—held a grand piano, a mini library, a few different sitting areas and still enough space to waltz in. And I mean that literally. Definitely large enough for a royal ball.

Just like the living room, the kitchen was equally impressive. The cabinets were a light, beautiful cherry, with speckled granite countertops and stainless steel appliances. In the center of the enormous kitchen was a large island, around which the majority of the humans stood. Dan sat on the farthest counter, his head a foot above the others. I felt very self-conscious as we interrupted their discussion—about me.

"Everyone, this is Ashley Hawn. You already know Shirley and Dan." Dan waved. "That's Liam, Nathan, Charlotte, Olivia, Parker, Ian, Logan, and Mark. Ashley will be staying with us for a while until she gets her sea legs."

They all looked at me as if they didn't know what to say. Some nodded. One or two scowled. Shirley smiled—typical Miss America contestant. "Hey, guys... " I began sheepishly. Gosh, I sounded like an idiot. "Sorry for the whole... pointy teeth grr thing." I held up two fingers to mimic my "big, sharp, pointy teeth."

Most of them nodded again, almost in unison. Dan, on the other hand, laughed. I felt Nik pat me on the shoulder. Dan's laughter seemed to be the cue for everyone to relax. I spent the next couple of hours chatting with them, Nikolai at my side. It wasn't easy being around so many humans, their heartbeats pounding in my head like an off-tempo bass line, but each time I felt the pressure in my gums start to form, I took a deep breath through my mouth and Nik squeezed my arm to the point of pain. It was exhausting.

I found myself wishing Dan and I had met under different circumstances. Though he was a few years younger than me, I quickly began to like him. He was an average, hardworking sort of student. Nothing spectacular about him in the least. I didn't picture him as a Calvin Klein model or anything like that, and after the day I'd had, normal seemed like a very good thing.

Just when the humans were suggesting they all go to bed, something strange happened. We heard a loud crash from the living room. Nikolai led the way around the corner, into the other room. My instinct was to expect a cat and a broken vase. Instead, we found one of the living room windows shattered, and five humans and two wolves—yes wolves—taking turns climbing through the hole.

# Chapter Eight

Though I've never been in a room full of wolves, these seemed slightly larger than the normal kind. I wasn't sure what to make of them, especially considering the intelligent way they eyed each of us.

I heard Shirley shriek in fright while many of the men, including Nik, stepped forward as if to defend the women. Gallant, yet stupid.

"What are you doing in my home?" Nikolai growled. The rage in his voice made me shiver, though the words he used seemed far from adequate considering the situation.

"Give us the girl and we'll leave your humans alive," said the centermost man. He was beefy, in a body builder sort of way. The others, though well-muscled, didn't look like they used steroids. Nikolai glanced at me before shaking his head. I breathed an instinctual sigh of relief. I'd worried he would give in, knowing what he thought about my continued existence. Perhaps I imagined it, but it looked as though his shoulders slumped in defeat.

Did he know what was about to happen? I sure didn't.

The bulky spokesperson shrugged as if he hadn't expected any other response. With a motion of his hand, his followers attacked. Shirley shrieked again. Without thinking, I pushed her back and placed myself between her and the attackers. Unsurprisingly, Nikolai was trying to do the same thing to me—push me back to protect me. His male humans, on the other hand, were charging forward to defend him.

"Get back, Ash!" he ordered. Why was he protecting me while his humans were left defenseless? Though Josh had made it clear that vamps could be killed, we had to be more durable than humans. "Use silver," he added a second too late.

One of his humans, Nathan I believe, went down first, his neck snapped by one of the attackers. Ian was grappling with one of the enormous wolves. Liam was doing a far sight better. He had pulled a switchblade from his pocket and had already punctured his opponent's stomach. Mark joined Ian in that battle.

The sudden smell of blood had me gasping for breath, hoping to maintain control. Suddenly the women standing behind me seemed more like targets than victims. I breathed through my mouth, hoping to eliminate the smell. A gust of wind that smelled of rotting foliage and salt water blew in from the broken window, giving me a chance to clear my head.

The other men had rushed forward to defend their home and vampire. Parker and Ian were fighting with one of the wolves. Parker's left arm hung uselessly from his body while blood dripped off his fingertips. I turned my attention away, determined not to think of it as food. This meant all the men were in the battle, leaving the leader, one wolf and two human attackers unchallenged. Nik moved forward, forced to go on the offensive. He grabbed Logan's attacker and rammed his hand into the man's chest, tearing out his heart. Nik dropped it on the floor and moved his attention to the leader, who had tried to sneak past him.

Despite Liam and Mark's early advantage, their attacker quickly had Mark lying on the floor and Liam limping toward the grand piano nestled in the corner. This left Charlotte unprotected. A wolf jumped forward, launching over a chair and charging at her. For a split second, Charlotte looked as though she were going to fight. At the last moment, though, she bolted for the sliding glass doors on the other side of the enormous formal dining room table.

I lunged into the path of the wolf, figuring I had a better chance of killing it than any of the humans. I grabbed it by the cuff of the neck. It yelped in surprise and tried to turn on me, but I was just strong enough to keep my grip. I tried to use Nikolai's technique and punched the wolf in the rib, expecting my fist to slide through its torso, but evidently, I was too weak to pull it off. The wolf yelped again, I heard the faint sound of cracking ribs, but my fist stopped short of his heart by a long shot. I hit it again and again with my free hand until it collapsed, blood gurgling out of its mouth.

The sounds of the continuing battle kept me from getting too distracted by the wolf's blood and just how much I wanted to suck him dry. It smelled different from the humans. I was intrigued.

By this time, Liam had been killed and his attacker had slipped by me. Shirley lay by my feet, her body broken and bleeding. One of the strange men had Charlotte cornered on the other side of the dinner table. I jumped onto the mahogany table and pounced on him just as he snapped Charlotte's neck. I dropped him to the ground, my knee digging into his back. I didn't know what else to do, so I took hold of one of his arms and pulled with all my might. It dislocated with my first effort and the man screamed. Instead of repeating the effort with his other arm, I grabbed his head and twisted it as I had seen people do in movies. It complied with my efforts and the man went limp.

When I stood back up, the battle was fairly well over. One of the attackers, long cuts marring his back, was escaping out the window. The rest of our opponents lay dead on the floor, intermixed with the bodies of Nikolai's humans. None of them had made it through the unexpected battle. Before I could feel pity or any form of sadness, the desire I had been able to ignore until now came surging back. I gasped. My gums exploded in pain again, my canines extending from somewhere in my head. I grabbed someone that lay at my feet and sank my teeth into it.

The flow of warm blood seeped down my throat. Rather than soothing me, my inhuman desire built until I thought I would explode. It was agony and ecstasy all intermingled. I wanted it to stop, and yet I didn't. I ripped into the flesh, reveling in the way my sharp teeth shredded it. When I had drunk the body dry, I looked up long enough to see Nikolai watching me. I couldn't define the look in his eyes. It was a strange mix of disgust, anger, sadness, and hatred. It cut through the haze of longing still burning through my veins. I looked down to see Charlotte's black hair draping over the shoulder I had bitten into, some of the hair stuck to the blood on my face. What had I done?

Without thinking further, I released her limp body and escaped through the sliding glass door stationed behind me. Now, when I say through, I don't mean I opened it and ran away. Oh no, that was not dramatic enough of an exit. I went straight through the glass, receiving numerous cuts along my face and arms, and charged forward.

The salty breeze told me the house was stationed near the Puget Sound. I ran toward the lapping water and dove in, ignoring the sting of salt water in my cuts. With trembling hands, I scrubbed at the blood—a mixture of mine and Charlotte's most likely—as salty tears streamed down to mix with the ocean water. My crying grew until I was shaking with each sob. I couldn't scrub anymore.

Before I could even consider Nikolai or what he might be doing, I felt a pair of hands grab my shoulders and pull me to my feet. The water continued to lap against us as a cold breeze added a shiver to my trembling. Strange. I thought vampires had skin like stone—the type that couldn't be cut by anything or frozen by sea breezes. I guess I really don't know anything about vampires.

"I'm sorry," I said, pulling away from his touch.

"Ashley, look at me. In there, with all that blood, even I had trouble controlling myself... and after three hundred years, my control is nearly perfect. You were turned yesterday. I would never have expected you to maintain your cool. The fact you managed to fight at all is very impressive." He sounded condescending to my ears, and the irritation I felt toward him allowed me to forget the massacre inside his house. He continued in a more businesslike tone. "We need to get out of here."

"I can't go back in there!"

"We need to get ourselves cleaned up. Mikhail will send someone else to deal with that, but we can't go around town covered in blood and wolf bits."

"Please don't make me go back in there," I begged, completely out of pride. Tears streamed down my face again and I began to shake. Nik slapped me again, though not nearly as hard as when he had slapped me in the library.

"Pull it together," he demanded. "Go round to the garage, I'll meet you there." Before I could respond, he was gone. How did he move so quickly? If I had more energy, I would have tried to copy it. But I didn't.

# Chapter Nine

I trudged around the house, desperately wishing it was considerably smaller. The tears continued to dribble from my eyes. I tried not to think about all the people who had lost their lives because of me. They had died to protect me, and I could barely remember their names.

I should have been the one to die. Had Nik given me over to them, none of this would have happened. I now had two reasons not to like him: first that he wanted to kill me, and second that he wouldn't do it when it was needed. I realize those two emotions don't jive, but I couldn't help but feel both. I hated the idea of him killing me for the convenience of his seethe. On the other hand, I wanted him to sacrifice me rather than innocent, weak humans. I was very confused inside.

By the time I got there, Nikolai was waiting for me, dressed in a more casual, less bloodstained outfit—designer jeans and a snugly fitting knit sweater. He led me to a large SUV that read "Land Rover" across the back. I literally had to climb into the passenger seat.

"Are you in the phone book?" Nikolai asked as he backed the Land Rover out of the enormous garage and turned the vehicle around. I shook my head. "What about the Internet? Have you advertised your address there?"

"Like on Facebook?"

"Anywhere."

"I don't even have the Internet, thus no Facebook account. Internet costs money. Does this mean we're going to my place?" I asked.

"I guess. It's that or a hotel. I'm just not sure if it's safe at your place. The werewolves already knew where I live, so it's no surprise they found us there. Though how they knew you were with me...?" He trailed off with a shrug.

Shock cut through my haze of exhaustion. "Werewolves?"

Nikolai nodded. "Just assume that pretty much any myth you've heard is true to some extent."

I shivered. By this time, we were out on the main road leading back to Olympia. Nikolai pulled his cell phone out again and pushed the speed dial. "Nik?" Mikhail asked in an exasperated tone. It was weird to hear both sides of the conversation. Evidently being a vampire had its perks.

"The wolves attacked."

"Attacked what?"

"Us," snapped my guide. I had a feeling he was the only one in the seethe who could snap at Mikhail and live through it. I wondered who was older. "My house. Ashley and I are the only two who survived. One of them escaped."

"The wolves?"

"Yes," sighed Nikolai.

"Do you know what they wanted?"

"What do you think?" Nik glanced at me.

"The girl?"

"Exactly."

I shivered again.

"This is getting complicated," Mikhail said. There was silence on the other end. "Take her somewhere safe before the sun comes up. Tomorrow night, bring her to the club. Hopefully, by then, I will have some information for you."

Nikolai didn't respond, but hung up and tossed the phone into my lap.

"So where are we going?"

"Your place I guess. I don't like hotels. Too many people with master keys. Not that your place is exactly the Tower of London."

"Lot smaller."

Nikolai ignored me. I was nearly asleep when he parked the Land Rover two blocks from my apartment. I didn't ask how he knew where I lived; maybe Josh had told him. I was too tired to care. I stumbled out and followed him. We ascended the stairs as quietly as possible and entered my dark apartment. I felt weak when I noticed the faint hint of yellow lining the horizon through my window. I moved to the one window and pulled the heavy drapery across it. Luckily I liked to sleep in and had splurged on the one black-out curtain. My new friend and guardian shut the door, noted the broken lock, and pushed my four-drawer dresser in front of it. He turned to stare at my tiny apartment.

"I didn't have much in the way of expectations... but... this is pathetic."

"Bite me," I snapped.

Nik cocked an eyebrow at me. It took me a second to realize my mistake. That was an invitation to a vampire.

"Do you expect another attack?" I asked, eyeing my small home and trying not to imagine it littered with bodies.

"The only people who know where you live are Isaac and his seethe, and they won't be attacking during the day. Why don't you clean up and get some sleep."

I obediently went into my bathroom. It was hard to tell what color my clothing had originally been. My shirt and pants just looked brownish-red. I reached up and touched my hair. It was matted and crusty with dried blood. My fingers stopped on something that felt like a finger. I tore it out and dropped it in the toilet. It wasn't a finger, but it was a body part of some sort. I flushed the toilet.

I took a long shower that included a lot of scrubbing. When my skin had turned pink, I let the hot water pound against my back. My small water heater eventually ran out and I climbed out. I dressed in my warm, concealing pajamas—a psychological protection from the jerk waiting for me in my apartment.

In the main room of my apartment, I found Nik sitting on the foot of my bed, staring at his hands. The wrinkles in his fingers were still stained with blood. He rubbed absently at one of his knuckles while watching my cat head-butt him in the shins. The look on his face made my heart twist.

"Are you okay?" I asked from the doorway. The damp heat from the shower washed against my back as it escaped into the cooler room. It felt comforting—a stark contrast to the sudden change my life had taken.

"What do you mean?"

"You just lost all... " I trailed off, unsure what to call the people he fed on.

"My food source?" he scoffed, the lines of his face transforming into a sneer. "Don't read into this. They were nothing but cattle to me."

I stared at him in shock. Those people had just died for him. How could he be so callous about it? "Guess I shouldn't be surprised," I murmured as I moved to the edge of my bed and pulled the covers back.

Nik rose and walked to my computer desk. "Get some sleep," he whispered back.

Nik settled into my desk chair, stretching his legs out across the floor and resting his head against the wall. It didn't look very comfortable. In the meantime, I nestled down into my bed, pulling the blankets up to my chin. I felt cold, afraid, and alone, the man in my room notwithstanding.

"Maybe you should just stake me before anyone else gets hurt on my account." I grimaced. I'd been thinking about the dead again and the words slipped out on their own accord. When I opened my eyes, Nik stood over my bed staring down at me. I could see him clearly despite the lack of light in my room.

"Do not tempt me. I don't want to have to tell Mikhail I disobeyed and destroyed his pet project."

I couldn't bear to look at him or his black heart. I closed my eyes and tried to hide my face in my pillow. Nik took the hint and went back to the chair. I heard him shift a few times and tried not to imagine the old seat breaking under him. Muffler jumped onto my bed and nestled against the small of my back.

I sighed. "I'm hungry." Man, I got to stop sharing every thought that runs through my head!

"Eat your cat. It'll tide you over."

"Please don't eat me," a voice said from the other side of my bed.

My eyes went wide with shock. Nikolai jumped up and flipped the light on. Muffler was staring at me in a very serious manner, the usual epidemic purring suddenly stopped. It became official. I had completely lost whatever was left of my sanity. At least I wasn't alone in la-la-land. Nikolai glanced at me; his eyes were the size of saucers.

"Did the cat just...?"

I shrugged. "I take it talking cats are new to you?"

Instead of answering, he knelt next to my bed. Muffler climbed to his feet and sat down, his eyes still on me. Muffler's ears twitched a few times.

"Does this mean you've decided not to eat me?" the voice asked.

We were staring at Muffler this time so I knew his mouth hadn't moved. Nikolai's eyes had grown to the size of Frisbees. I didn't know what to say to my cat.

AHHH! seemed like a good response.

Though I often talked to my cat, I never expected him to talk back. What am I saying! Cats don't talk. Especially this one. I knew Muffler. He's the type of animal with too much personality for his own good while at the same time being too dumb to use his personality in his favor. In fact, it usually just got him into trouble. There was no way this cat, of all animals, could learn how to talk.

"Shit, shit, shitty, shit shit!" I chanted, my hands combing through my hair in a frantic gesture.

"The modern age scares me," commented Nikolai.

"My cat just talked, and you're scared by my language?"

Nikolai and my cat ignored me.

"I'm sure you have a few questions for me," the voice said.

"Yes, just a few," I said to my cat. Ok, time for the padded room. I'm talking to my cat... responding to my cat... conversing with my cat. The whole vampire thing was hard enough to accept. This was just straight and simple insanity. "Like, who the hell are you and what have you done with my cat?"

Muffler suddenly began to purr just like he usually did when I talked to him. You know the type of cat, the one that purrs if you look at it or talk to it or casually think about it from two blocks away. "I've always been your cat; I just didn't announce myself to you. Now that you have entered the world of the mystical, I figured it wouldn't hurt to share, especially since you were thinking of killing me." Muffler stopped for a second and lowered himself back into a lounging position as if it was too much work to remain upright—very catlike, to be honest. "My name is Tereus. I was a fae but was transformed into a cat."

Nik groaned and slouched back against the wall. "What?" I asked. "What does that mean?"

"Just what we need... faeries."

"Fairy. As in Tooth Fairy?" I made a wing flapping gesture with my hands.

"No. A bit scarier than that. Ever heard of the Greek gods? Hades, Athena, Hermes, Aphrodite, Hera? All fae. A fae is a mystical creature from ancient times. They are very powerful, though not nearly as powerful as they were before the invention of cold iron and industry. They come in many different shapes and sizes. Many of them do not look human but try appearing so through a glamor."

His brief description was far from satisfactory. I had many more questions, the writer in me seeing the potential. Before I could begin the interrogation, the cat cut me off.

"Relax," said the voice in a tone that sounded a great deal like a purr. "I'm hardly a threat. When I was transformed all my powers were taken. In truth, I'm little more than a cat."

"Yeah, a talking one. Gosh, I feel like Sabrina."

"Ah, Humphrey Bogart and Audrey Hepburn. Great movie. They don't make them like they used to."

I stared at him for a moment before I remembered the old, black-and-white film. "What? No! Sabrina the Teenage Witch."

"A witch?" demanded Nik, his eyebrows constricting with anxiety.

"No. The T.V. show."

"Huh?"

I rolled my eyes. "Pop reference. Don't worry about it."

Nik stared at me as though I'd lost it, which in truth I had. After all, I was listening to my cat's backstory.

"Who turned you into a cat?"

"Phonoi."

I glanced at Nikolai. He had turned white... well, whiter. "Do you have any reason to believe Phonoi would come after you?" Nik asked.

"I have no reason to believe anything, either way. I have spent the last some-odd years mostly in this apartment. It is possible. Like all fae, Phonoi knows how to hold a grudge. Granted, he may consider my debt to him as repaid. I simply do not know," responded Muffler, his eyes closing occasionally in near sleep.

"And if it is Phonoi that would be bad... right?"

"Let's just say, if you come across a fae leave it alone."

Muffler meowed while at the same time the voice said, "Good advice."

I sighed. "So what now?"

"Get some sleep. We can't do anything until nightfall."

I collapsed on the bed, hearing Nik shift back to the chair a moment later. Part of me wondered if sleep was possible especially with a talking cat lying on my bed. Then again, I'd accepted the concept of vampires and werewolves.

Why not talking cats?

# Chapter Ten

I woke later that day to find Nikolai and Muffler having a conversation of sorts. Nik sat at my desk while Muffler sat on my keyboard—his favorite spot. They were gazing into each other's eyes as if they were having a staring contest. I wondered who was winning. In my experience, it's usually the cat.

"So you didn't wrong Phonoi directly?" Nik was saying.

"No. Do I look insane?"

"And the fae woman, the one who bore your child?"

"I do not know what became of her." Muffler sounded sad. Can a cat be sad? Well, I guess a cat with the spirit of a fae in it can. Oh, my life is weird.

"Riveting conversation with my cat?" I asked as I sat up.

"Tereus has been telling me his story. Quite fascinating. Forbidden love and nasty consequences."

"Consequences worth speaking of usually are nasty," purred the cat.

"What time is it?" I asked, hoping to get off the topic of my cat's history, or how it might now be destroying my life.

"Four p.m. The cloud cover is sufficient for us to leave in the next half hour or so."

I groaned, not feeling completely refreshed. "What sorta fun do you have planned for us today? Hopefully, nothing involving werewolves."

Muffler hissed, spit flying in all directions. He stood up, his hair standing on end, and tried to back up until his butt bumped into the computer screen. I ignored him.

"Preferably. We will go back to the seethe and talk with Mikhail."

"Fine," I sighed. "But can I at least shower first?"

"Again?" he asked, one eyebrow raised.

I stopped to think back over the past day, realizing I had showered just before going to sleep. Why did I want another? Nik's eyes were on me as I worked through what seemed normal and what I wanted. My skin crawled under his gaze. It may be ridiculous, but these few moments away from Nik, or anyone else, were the only thing keeping me from going absolutely Tom Cruise. Yeah, I used Tom Cruise as a state of mind. Big whoop!

"Yes, again! Got a problem with it?" I snapped.

Nikolai shook his head slowly and turned back to my cat. I went to my dresser, still pressed against my door, and dug through it until I found a clean pair of jeans and a long sleeve shirt. It was a little nicer than a T-shirt. I figured I'd better be dressy for the "leader guy." It's a technical term.

"That the best you can do?" Nikolai asked, eying me over his shoulder.

"This is about as dressy as I get."

"I don't know, that little black number you had on last night was considerably more impressive."

"Ha... sadly it's gone... pretty much ruined."

"That the only nice thing you own?" He asked, disdain dripping from the statement.

"Pretty much."

"We've got to work on your wardrobe."

"What are you, gay now? Do you sparkle?" I taunted. He glared back.

"If only. Sparkling is a lot better than dying."

"But you are gay?" I asked with mock sincerity before ducking into the bathroom. He had climbed to his feet, his expression no longer playful. It was downright terrifying.

When I returned from my shower, Nik was standing by my bed, holding up the floor-length red dress. I had purchased it for the one and only fancy dinner I attended after getting published. Chloe had picked it out, and boy did it show. It was a size too small with a V-neck and a slit that reached my upper thigh.

I glared at him. "No means no! Besides, I look horrible in that thing. Redheads shouldn't wear red!"

Nikolai sighed and returned the dress to my packed closet, pointedly hanging it with my more usual attire. "Then I will be sure to buy you a dress for your Joining."

"Joining?" I asked as I put on my shoes.

"Yes. There is a ceremony to officially become part of our seethe. A great excuse for a party. And trust me, vampires love any excuse for a party."

"Noted. Ready," I said while still braiding my second pigtail. I slipped my arms into my leather jacket and reached for my purse. At the last minute, I realized it wasn't where it usually sat. Oh right, I'd lost it. Damn. It was going to be a pain to get a new driver's license when I couldn't go outside during the day. I didn't think a driver's license was worth the risk of getting fried. Granted I didn't technically need one, either.

I followed Nikolai out of the apartment, my mind's ear ringing with Muffler's colorful goodbye and "be careful." When we reached the outside, I looked up into the misting sky. I didn't think the sun was actually behind the horizon, but I couldn't tell through the dark clouds. My mood began to sink as I followed Nik to his Land Rover. I needed to be writing, and this whole supernatural war was really getting in the way, not to mention I was supposed to be at work in the morning.

"Tell me," I asked while buckling up. "When am I actually going to have time to myself again?"

"Depends on how many people you kill today... and what Mikhail says. Until he gives you the 'all clear' you're stuck with me."

"Do all new vampires get a babysitter?"

"Yes. Though it's been a long time since I had to do it," he growled, his eyes on the road.

"Why's that?"

"They usually don't need a bodyguard. You, on the other hand... "

"So I have a house guest, eh?"

"We can always go back to my house or, I suppose, my apartment here in town if you'd rather."

"You have an apartment too? Evidently, you prescribe to the 'overkill is NOT underrated' mindset."

I was just about to say more when the large SUV bounced in an unfamiliar manner. The front tires went up into the air, crashed back into the pavement, and bounced as only tires can do. At the same time, an earsplitting crash resounded from the rear of the vehicle. I looked over my shoulder to see the back end of the SUV crumpled, as though it had been smashed with something. Out one of the holes that had been a window, I saw the tail end of a telephone pole. I looked out the front to see the next couple poles topple over like a row of dominoes.

"Stay put," ordered Nik.

Was he crazy?

# Chapter Eleven

The crazy guy jumped out of the SUV, tearing his seatbelt from its bolts. Through the windshield, I saw... wait...what?

I saw a dragon standing on the sidewalk next to Sylvester Park.

Okay, _that's it! I'm done. No more fairy tale creatures are allowed to exist. Because I just can't take any more!_

I glanced out my own window. To my astonishment, the few pedestrians walking along didn't seem to notice the massive beast wedged between the trees. It looked pretty traditional for a dragon—wings, spikes, teeth, lots of teeth, and a long tail. What was unexpected, aside from its existence, was the way it looked to be engulfed in flames. The orange and gold flames licked up its body until they turned blue near his head. The weirdest part was that it did not seem to hurt the nearby trees, though it was clearly quite hot. The falling rain sizzled around its head and created a billowing cloud of steam.

Before Nikolai could get far, the dragon shifted to a nearby street light and gave it a massive push with its wide shoulder. Just as it began to topple, I realized the dragon had pretty good aim: the falling light was directed right at the SUV. I slammed the door open, leaving a dent in it, wrenching myself free from the seat belt. The pole crashed into the front of the vehicle just as I reached the pavement. I felt shards of glass clatter down around me, some of them scraping my skin.

Not giving myself a moment to hesitate, I bolted toward Nik and away from the crumpled front end of the SUV. Nikolai had rounded the back of the vehicle and was tearing metal bits from the underside. I tried to copy him but wasn't quite strong enough. I added a few dents to the mess, but that was about it. Not to mention, I had no idea what he needed from the underside of the vehicle.

"Duck!" Nik cried, just as the dragon turned its fiery breath in our direction.

A few pieces of the car caught on fire, while others melted. I dropped to the pavement just in time. The heat was excruciating, but when it stopped I discovered no part of me had become engulfed in flame. I glanced over at Nik. He seemed equally unscathed.

"I'm going to distract it," he shouted. "You run around to its back and ram this through the thick part of its tail to anchor it."

He handed me what appeared to be the Land Rover's bent crankshaft. That's what it's called, right? Crankshaft? I took hold of the enormous piece of zig-zaggy metal and crawled to the back end of the car. Nik jumped out from his cover and bolted toward one of the parked cars. The movement caught the dragon's attention. A stream of fire sprouted in Nik's direction, missing him by mere inches. I ducked out from the protection of the destroyed Land Rover and ran across the street, dodging the few cars heading toward Capitol Lake. The drivers seemed oblivious to me and my crankshaft.

I dropped between two parked cars just as the dragon ran out of breath. Nik ran to the next car, keeping its attention on him. I snuck behind one of the concrete planters. The dragon and its tail were only a few meters away. I waited for it to start another fiery bellow. When it did, I jumped forward, the crankshaft raised in my unnaturally strong arms, and ran to its side. I had to jump over its fiery tail as it swished back and forth—which became especially difficult considering the blinding steam rising from its body. Somehow I got to its rump without drawing its attention. Heat from the body painfully licked my skin, similar to how heat rises from the oven when you first open the door. My skin felt instantly dry, as though it might crack if I spent another second near the source. I slammed the one straight end of the zig-zaggy piece of metal into the part of the dragon where the tail met its spine.

The heat from the dragon's body subsided noticeably. What had I just done? I'm sure Nik would know, but now wasn't the time to ask.

Just as I was about to turn and run, I felt something large and scratchy grab me by the torso and jerk me off the ground. I screamed and flailed my limbs uselessly while glancing down to see a giant tree—its long, naked branches acting as hands. I had a sudden image of Treebeard and felt a little bit like Merry and Pippin—very uncomfortable and very afraid. Standing at the base of the large tree was a mostly naked woman, her brown hair flecked with leaves and branches. What clothing she did have appeared to be made of leaves. Other than the plant life growing from her body, something about her appeared off. Though humanoid, her skin was the mottled color of dried leaves. One of her hands was placed possessively on the trunk of my attacker.

Now, I have been to Sylvester Park many times. It's the local hippie hang out, and my friends like to go and watch the protesters make fools of themselves. But in all my visits, I'd never seen a mostly naked humanoid woman with a pet tree before. The tree-huggers in the area wore black socks with their Birkenstocks and layers of unwashed clothing. Though they tried to commune with nature, I'd never seen one actually control it. Like most of the last couple days, this was very new to me.

The tree-being squeezed me slightly before pulling me away from the now really pissed off dragon. I glanced down to the street and noticed Nik peeking over an enormous pickup truck; his attention was torn between the giant moving tree and the fire-breathing dragon.

Nik ducked behind the truck, reached into the back, and pulled out a giant tire iron. Next, he yanked the front door off. He used the door as a shield and the tire iron as a medieval lance.

Nik charged.

The dragon managed to get its head whipped around, its fiery breath hurdling toward Nik before the vampire reached it. The vampire caught the blast on the door, the sudden heat shattering the window. Nik ducked his head and managed to keep himself from catching on fire. He pressed forward through the stream of fire—a proverbial knight with car parts.

Now, like any other girl, I had once dreamed of a knight riding to my rescue, killing the dragon, and saving me from the tower—I just never imagined it would actually happen. Nor did I imagine my knight would be a vampire I hated, his weapons would be imported car parts, the dragon would have fire for skin or my tower would be a sentient tree that was trying to squeeze me into vampire goo.

When it ran out of breath, Nik rushed the dragon and skewered it. Handy things, those car parts, besides the mundane use. The dragon slumped over, its fiery aura fading completely. Was it dead? Did those things die?

My eyes trained on the naked woman standing at the base of the tree. She laughed, the noise sounding like a mix of a human voice and the rustling of dry leaves in the wind. Very creepy!

Nik stood up and took a step toward her. "Give me back the girl."

In response, the tree squeezed me tighter. I couldn't keep the scream from escaping, though it ended quickly since I couldn't take a very deep breath. Nik glanced up at me and noticed the other branch sweeping down in his direction. He rolled out of the way and ran back toward the cars. Nik ripped the door from his ruined SUV and hurled it at the woman. She skipped out of the way.

I couldn't just sit in my tree and do nothing, but I didn't have any weapons. _I am strong now_ , a small voice in my brain whispered. I reached up and started breaking off branches and throwing them at the woman. The woman glared up at me. I broke another branch and she grimaced. Sweet! This must hurt her. I reached for a large one—one I would never have imagined myself capable of breaking before yesterday. With all the might I had, I yanked on the large branch and tore it from the trunk as though I had been playing with putty.

The woman shrieked and dropped to her knees. She crawled to the tree and reached for the trunk. With her contact established, the tree jerked and the branch holding me squeezed. I tried to cry out in pain, but I couldn't breathe. The woman smiled; her green teeth matched her surprisingly round eyes. I wanted to suggest my dentist to her.

Evidently, I had provided a decent distraction. Nik snuck up behind the woman, wielding what looked like part of the metal from around the windshield. He swung it, the metal connecting with the woman's face. She flew a few feet away from the tree, which went limp, or as limp as a tree can. I gasped for breath. I still couldn't get free, but I could start doing damage again. I reached for the branches holding me and tried to free myself.

At the same time, Nik picked up a can of gasoline he had retrieved from the back of his Land Rover. He poured it on the trunk of the tree and pulled a lighter from his pocket. "What are you doing?" I shrieked.

Nikolai ignored me. "Give her back, or I'll light your tree on fire!" he said in a loud, commanding voice. I glanced at the woman. She was standing a few feet away, her slim body shaking with visible fear. Her slightly misshapen eyes grew wide while her long fingers tightened into fists.

"You wouldn't," she said in that same raspy voice. It made my skin crawl.

Nikolai flicked the lighter on, the small flame lighting his face, and held it near the soaked wood.

"Okay!" The tree-woman ran to the tree, tripped, and reached out to touch the base of the trunk. The branches released me and I fell to the ground with a thud. Before the woman could make a move, I ran to Nik, glad to use him as a semi-living-shield. He didn't seem to mind. With a strange glint in his eye, he dropped the lighter on the ground near the tree and pushed me toward the street. The tree lit up with the aid of the gasoline. No wood in western Washington would burn that easily without a little help—way too wet.

The woman began to writhe in agony. She slapped her face and legs, rolling on the damp grass as though she too was on fire. We didn't stick around to see what happened next.

# Chapter Twelve

_Wow! Nik is kind of a jerk,_ I thought as I jogged over to the destroyed Land Rover. Actually, I already knew that about him. Just as I reached it, I heard people start screaming. I glanced at the pedestrians. They weren't pointing at us or what was left Nik's SUV, but rather at the burning tree. Nik nudged me toward the east end of Seventh Avenue. Once we were a fair distance from the wreckage, Nik slowed to a walk. He glanced back at the scene, looking like a casual observer. I tried to mimic his actions but was far too flustered to achieve anything more than nervous interest.

"What was that about?" I asked.

Before he could answer, Josh came jogging to our side. He glanced over my shoulder at the flames, now licking up to the topmost branches—impressive considering the falling rain. "Mikhail sent me to warn you... but it appears I'm too late."

"Warn us about what?"

"The Winter Court has demanded we turn her over. Mikhail feared they might try to take her by force." Again, Josh glanced over my shoulder at the mess we had made.

"This wasn't Winter. This was a Summer dragon and a dryad. "

Josh's eyes grew wide. He and Nik started glancing around as if they expected monsters to jump out of the woodwork. I was starting to feel that way myself.

"Wait... Winter Court... Summer Court? What does all this mean?" I was so tired of having to be constantly brought up to speed.

"I'll explain as we go," Nik said, taking me by the elbow and pushing me into motion. Again, he didn't get a chance to explain. We had just rounded the nearest corner when a man stepped out from behind a parked car. His blond hair was done up in scraggly dreadlocks. His matching beard looked like it was halfway to being dreadlocks too. He wore layers of baggy clothing, all of which appeared to be nearly the same color—dirty brownish gray. The layers hid the shape of his body, though he was clearly tall.

At first, I didn't think anything about it, but Josh suddenly stepped between me and the hippie. He stretched out his hands as if to keep me from stepping around him. By now, I had learned to trust my new associates. They knew a hell of a lot more about this mystical stuff than I did, and if they thought the hippie was a threat, then by golly so did I.

The hippie gave Josh a condescending smile. "Evidently you know what I am. Give me the girl and no one gets hurt," he said, his gums lined with stubby brown teeth that looked as though they had been gnawing on the sidewalk.

Nik stepped forward, placing himself partially between Josh and the hippie. "Why do you want her?"

"Do you really think I'm told such things? I'm just ordered to bring her to my queen."

"Orithyia," sighed Nik. "There's no way I'm giving her to you."

Though I knew he would never just give me over to our enemies, I couldn't help but feel relieved. Nik might just have a breaking point, and the way he looked at this man, I knew we were in serious trouble. What would it take for Nik to give up and hand me over to our enemies?

"That is your choice," rumbled the other man. The man's clothing seemed to melt off of him. At the same time, his body grew. At first, it occurred so slowly I wasn't sure if there was actually a change taking place, but before I knew what had happened, an entirely different creature stood before me. He looked like a Norse god to me—a really, really big Norse god. He stood as tall as a building, with bulging muscles. His tangled, blond hair straightened out and his beard lengthened. His layers of clothing became part of his build, transforming into skin. When the transformation finished, frost like steam began to emanate from his skin and fall toward the ground. The pavement around his feet frosted over as if it were early morning in January, and the falling rain started forming ice cycles in his hair.

I remembered what Nik had said about the fae having once been the Greek gods. It suddenly made sense. I could see a thing like this being confused for a god.

_Oh, this is bad!_ I realized. Josh pushed me backward, away from the enormous man, while repeatedly screaming, "Troll!"

Was he serious? Well, I guess if dragons exist, why not a troll? The beast-like man lumbered forward, a hammer the size of a small refrigerator hanging from his calloused grasp. Where had that come from? Josh and I hid behind a minivan while Nik tried to lead it away. "Protect her," he yelled as he reached the middle of the street.

Nik crossed into the parking lot on the other side of the street. The troll followed at a surprisingly fast pace, his hammer dragging on the ground. It left a path of destruction and frost in its wake—a deep gouge running down the center, nearly on top of the dotted line. A car turned onto the street, stopped, and backed up. It didn't screech its tires or move at a fast pace as if afraid. Rather, it moved as though it had simply taken a wrong turn.

Before Nik could attack, the troll turned to our hiding place. It stared at the van for a moment, as if it had to think through its options. In the end, he lumbered toward the minivan and raised his hammer. Josh and I scrambled away just as he slammed it down, crushing the vehicle. I ran across the street, toward Nik. Josh ran in the opposite direction, weaving his way into a full parking lot.

I suddenly found myself all alone in a street that felt surprisingly wide. I glanced at Nik. He was rounding a car at top speed, his eyes as wide as skillets. It was then that I made the mistake of turning around.

I had been feeling a lot of fear lately. People go through most of their lives without feeling genuine fear. They might watch a scary movie which results in a few nightmares or is afraid they can't pay their rent, but seldom do they experience heart-pounding, bone-melting, panty-wetting terror. That's how I felt when I turned and stared into the enormous eyes of the troll.

The thing had stooped down so that he could look me in the eye. It huffed a large breath, blowing back my red hair. The breath smelled of half-frozen, rotting flesh mixed with fresh snow. Not the most appealing smell, really. The troll grunted as he swooped his hand over me and scooped me up. My skin burned with the bitter cold of his grasp. I immediately started shivering violently. The ice seeped into my muscles, making them cramp. I gasped for breath; the frigid cold sinking into my lungs and making the muscles around my chest tighten.

As the chill sunk deeper into my body, I started feeling confused. My body knew I was supposed to be afraid, and I was, but I couldn't quite remember why. Two men, who seemed vaguely familiar, were tearing parking meters from the pavement and slamming them into the feet of the large, cold beast that held me captive. Each impact of the improvised iron weapon caused the beast's frozen skin to erupt into sizzling welts. I felt very tired as I watched them beat the troll's shins. My eyes drooped and I went limp in the hand of the beast. Sleep would be a welcome respite. Though I didn't completely lose consciousness, I came very close.

# Chapter Thirteen

I felt my captor lumber down the street. On occasion, I could see the two men running ahead of the monster. In a vain effort, I tried to remember what it was that held me in its grasp but failed. We traipsed past what looked like a park with a big bonfire. The importance of the enormous fire escaped me. Another block of travel and the redheaded man dashed into a building. The other one danced around the feet of the monster, occasionally bashing it in the shins with the pole—a pole that jingled in a familiar way.

A moment or two later and the redhead returned. He threw something at the monster, hitting it in the belly. Whatever he threw lit the monster on fire. It bellowed loud enough that I wanted to cover my ears; I just couldn't find my hands. I suddenly felt like I was flying, and the painful cold that had surrounded me eased.

I landed with a thud, shattering something beneath my weight. It didn't seem like a good idea to move, or maybe it was just that my muscles were too frozen. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something burning. Was it the bonfire from the park or something else? I couldn't remember.

Having feelings and being unable to remember what they're called is a strange sensation. I lay where I had fallen, watching the dark clouds thin and begin to reveal bright stars. The stars twinkled at me and I felt my lips pull up in a smile. I'm not sure why I was smiling. In fact, I wasn't sure why I was laying on something slightly poky and watching the stars.

A minute later, or maybe an hour, someone pulled me off the car I'd landed on and cradled me in their arms. It was one of the men, the one with red hair. I knew that I knew him, but I couldn't remember how or what his name was.

"We need to get her warm," the redhead semi-stranger said.

"First, we need to get off the street."

By this time the men had stopped at a non-smashed car. The one not carrying me glanced around before pulling the door open by sheer elbow grease. The metal screeched loudly as he broke the door lock. He flipped the switch to unlock the other doors. The redhead got the back door open and dumped me into the seat before following. The car was already running; the other man was very fast.

We drove a short distance and stopped. I was dragged out of the car through the other door and hoisted back into someone's arms. It was the taller man. We went down a dark alley, one that I would have had a sarcastic comment about had my brain been functioning. The redheaded man opened a door and ushered us in. We descended a case of dark stairs and into a concrete hallway. Like so many things today, it seemed familiar yet foreign. I couldn't wrap my brain around it.

"What happened?" asked a voice.

"Frost troll. We need to get her warm. I don't think she's conscious," the man said. Nik was his name. Yes, Nik.

"A frost troll?"

"Not the point, Mikhail," Nik said. Nik placed me on the floor next to a warm fire and draped a blanket over me. I was suddenly feeling cold again. I began to shake violently. This lasted until I thought my muscles would shake right out of my skin in protest.

Suddenly, the shaking stopped and my mind began to clear. The haze around my thoughts eased. Concerned faces came into focus. "Nik? What happened?" I remembered the basic images of the past half hour, I just couldn't figure out what they meant.

"You remember the frost troll?"

After a moment of thought, I nodded. _Yes, the really cold monster_. "I thought vamps didn't have these issues with the cold," I said weakly.

He chuckled. "Had you been human you would have been dead within the first minute or two of him touching you." Nik looked at Mikhail. I followed his gaze.

"I take it Josh failed in finding you in time."

"He arrived just before the troll attacked, and it was he who got it to stop chasing us."

Mikhail's normally calm face took on a look of genuine astonishment. "Is that so?"

Nik nodded. "Without Josh, I doubt I would be alive and Ashley would be in someone else's control. On top of all that, we were attacked by the Summer Court just before Josh arrived. Though we didn't exactly have a conversation on the topic, they were clearly after Ashley too."

"So this means Richard, the wolves, and both fae courts are after her. What have we gotten ourselves into?" Mikhail stared into the flames for a moment.

"There's more. It might be Phonoi is the one after her. Maybe hiring Richard or the wolves," sighed Nik. "Are you sure you don't want me to just get rid of her?"

I pulled my knees up to my chest and ran my fingers through my hair until they reached a knot at the back of my head. The warmth of the fire tickled my back as the skin began to regain feeling. My eyes squeezed shut on their own accord. For a brief moment, I'd thought Nik had changed his mind about wanting to end my life. After all, he had refused to give me over, even when his flock of human blood bags had been in danger. Evidently, they had meant even less to him than I realized. Or maybe he just followed Mikhail's orders no matter what.

"Phonoi?"

"Yes. Kind of a long story. But it turns out Ashley's cat is a fae, or was. Phonoi turned him into a cat because he had impregnated Phonoi's sister."

"Corinna?" Mikhail turned to me. "Your cat is the father of Mnemosyne?"

"Who are Phonoi and Mnemosyne?" I asked from my seat by the fire.

"They're fae," whispered Josh, shifting over to sit next to me on the floor.

"Could Phonoi get both fae courts to seek out Ashley and her cat?"

"Possibly. Phonoi is hard to predict. Always has been," responded Nik. "Mikhail. This is too big for us. Phonoi, much less the fae queens, is more powerful than us. We need to end this."

I flinched, knowing what he meant. Josh wrapped a comforting arm around my shoulders.

Mikhail's eyes flashed at him, brightening with excitement. "We will not be killing her, Nik, until I know what's going on. Do you understand me?"

For a short second, I thought Nik was going to argue. His jaw tightened, the muscles flexing as he glared back at his leader. I noticed Josh wasn't breathing. Then again, neither was I. The tension in the room rose as the two old vampires stared each other down. I could see Nik thinking through his options. Finally, he nodded, lowering his eyes to the floor.

"Josh, join Nik. The two of you keep her alive. And figure out who is actually after her. All we have are questions." Mikhail stalked over to the shorter man and glared down at him. "This is your chance to prove yourself. Consider your life tied to hers. If she dies... " Mikhail smiled, causing a shiver to run down my spine. "Now, all of you get out." He moved back to his desk.

Nik reached down and lifted me to my feet. I left the blanket on the floor and followed them out. In the hallway, we stopped. I glanced between the two men, my two obligated protectors. Boy, this was getting out of hand.

"So now what?" Josh asked. I looked at him, really seeing him for the first time. He wore cargo pants, low top cons, and a light blue T-shirt with a brightly smiling sun on it. Odd shirt for a vampire, I thought. But then again, I got the impression Josh was little off all around. I liked that about him.

"We need information."

"Guess it's time for some Chinese food! Let's go to my place. Fagan still delivers there."

"Good, let's go!" said Nik.

"Wait... what?" I asked as I scrambled to follow them up the steps directly across from the double doors. I had yet to climb these stairs. They led into a tiny entry way. The walls were painted drywall, without any form of decoration. At the other end of the tiny room, another door barred the way. Nik tapped a code into the ten-key built into the wall and the door swung open.

We stepped into a narrow space divided from the rest of the room by an elegant screen that subtly hinted at Asian origins. Nik led us around the partition into an enormous room. I instantly knew where we were. We were on the first floor of The Viewer's Lounge—a high-class restaurant I had only dreamed of visiting after seeing its pictures in the papers.

Nik and Josh stopped only when they noticed I was still standing by the partition, my jaw resting comfortably on the floor.

# Chapter Fourteen

The Viewer's Lounge was renowned not only for their exquisite cuisine from all over the world but for their enormous television. The entire left wall was a screen rising three stories into the air. Thanks to advanced computers, the screen was divided into different pictures. The largest showed a Mariners baseball game, while other smaller screens displayed different news stations and sitcoms. One even had the Discovery Channel playing. Directly in front of the gigantic screen were about twenty rows of folding theater chairs with narrow tables placed between the seats.

Behind the theater seating rose elegant stairwells leading up to lofts. The right wall held two balconies, while two more extended out above our heads and directly across from where we stood. These four balconies contained private sitting areas, some looking like small living rooms, others with tables and chairs.

Though I had never eaten here, I had read an article in the paper. Each seat, or section, could tune into any of the channels being displayed with small speakers or headphones. During special events such as the Olympics, the Super Bowl, or major premieres it was nearly impossible to get a seat. In fact, seats for the next Olympics were already sold out.

Eventually, I rolled my tongue back into my mouth and followed them.

We skirted around the back to make sure we didn't bother any of the viewers and exited through the main door. Nik stopped and whispered something in one of the bouncer's ears. I thought it was "get us another car," but I could have been wrong. A moment later, a car carefully rounded the corner and double parked. Nik took the keys from the driver and climbed into the driver's seat. Josh opened the passenger door for me before climbing into the back.

Nik drove through the dark streets at surprising speed. Evidently, he knew exactly where Josh lived. The others were silent, so I followed their example. A few minutes later, he slammed the car to a stop outside a simple, seventies-style apartment complex—its roof flat and the exterior painted in a drab orange color. We all got out and followed Josh to the second story.

His apartment, though larger, made mine seem like the Windsor Castle. Most of his furniture looked as though it came right out of a second-hand store or garage sale. Granted, it was well disguised by dirty clothing. I glanced around, hoping to find a safe place to sit. I didn't find one. Josh moved to his kitchen counter, brushed off an empty blood bag to uncover his land line phone. He dialed a number and began ordering Chinese food. I glanced at Nikolai. He too was looking for a place to sit.

"Do you have another blood bag?" Nik asked when Josh got off the phone. "Ash hasn't eaten in a while."

He joined us in the living room—or was it the laundry room?—with a blood bag. Josh cracked it open before he handed it to me. The smell of blood sent my mind into a free fall. I felt the agony in my gums and the tightness in my chest. Without a clear thought, I sank my teeth into the plastic and drank until it was all gone. Evidently, I had gotten over my aversion to blood designated for a dying person. It was a basic necessity to my existence, I now realized. Doesn't mean I liked it, but such is life.

When I opened my eyes, my senses returning, I realized I had an audience. Though Josh was mechanically picking up the clothing, his eyes were continually flickering toward where I stood. Nik was not so subtle. "What?" I whispered.

"You have a long way to go in obtaining control."

"I haven't had a lot of practice."

"True." Nik glanced in Josh's direction, who took the hint and removed himself and his pile of dirty clothing. I collapsed on the cleared couch, the blood bag still in my grasp. Nik sat next to me in a fluid, controlled motion. "You feel guilty about desiring blood."

It wasn't a question, but I nodded anyway. "I don't think I can do this."

"You don't really have a choice."

"I could ask you to kill me."

"I won't do that," Nik stated in a calm voice. I hadn't even ruffled his feathers. It surprised me considering how in favor he was with the notion just a few minutes ago.

"Only 'cause you've been ordered not to."

"Correct. But don't worry. Despite my interest in killing you, I will help you find balance."

"Balance?" I asked.

"If you cling to your humanity, you will feel guilt every time you feed and it will destroy you. If you reject your humanity, let it fade out of you, you will become a raving lunatic barely in control of your own desires. You have to find the middle ground, where you hold on to some semblance of who you were while not burying yourself in guilt. You'll get there... someday."

"What if I don't want to get used to it? What if I don't want to become okay with all this?"

Boy, this is one thing I left out of my books. Vampires shouldn't have to feel guilt. They never do in the movies. In fact, life had been far better when I was a human. You never hear a vampire say that in books, do you? Well, I sure thought it. Since turning into a vamp, all I'd experienced was running, death, and cravings. Oh, and the fear; lots of fear.

Before Nik could answer, the doorbell rang. I jumped up and backed away from the door. Call me a Nervous Nelly, but at this point, I didn't trust anything or anyone. Nik rolled his eyes and stalked to the door. He opened it to reveal a Chinese kid of about eighteen or nineteen. He wore a red jacket with the logo of a local Chinese restaurant. The tips of his dark hair had been bleached a frosty white, while the white of his eyes could be seen all around his pupils as he stared at Nik in shock. Nik grabbed him by the jacket and yanked him through the doorway before he could regain his composure.

I skirted around them and shut the door just as Josh rejoined us. The delivery boy dropped the bag of Chinese food as he stumbled against the couch. Josh kept to the sideline, a guilty look clouding his face. I followed his example—guilty look and all—and stayed near the wall.

"What's going on?" the boy asked in an American accent before breaking out into a string of Chinese phrases that sounded like expletives; he must have been second-generation American. "Nik! I know nothin'!"

"I haven't even asked you any questions yet, Fagan! So how can you know that you don't know what I want," Nik said, in a strangely gentle voice.

"I... uh... I... "

"Now, let's talk. Ever heard the name Ashley Hawn?" Fagan pressed his lips together, but his eyes flicked to me for a split second. Nik spotted the movement. "I take it you've heard of her then. What does Richard want with her?"

Fagan gulped. "I'm not exactly sure, but I've heard talk... I mean... it's just from the lowlifes, you know, the underdogs. But they say something big's going down and that Richard needs her. Most of the foot soldiers are hopin' to get her and use her as leverage. They want in Richard's good graces. You know how Richard runs things."

"What does Richard need her for?"

"I... I don't know. They don't even know."

"What about the fae and the wolves? Why do they want her?"

"The fae want her too?" Fagan squeaked. His eyes glanced in my direction again.

"Yes! So tell me exactly why nearly every mystical being in the greater Seattle area is trying to take her."

"I don't know!"

"Fagan," murmured Nik. "I always know when you're lying. Don't make me do something we would both regret."

I stepped forward, ready to stop him. It didn't seem fair that this kid should get hurt for my sake. Enough people had already died for me. Before I took more than a step, Josh grabbed me by the shoulders and yanked me back. He clamped a hand over my mouth and held me to his chest. Evidently, his fifty years of vampirism was enough to make him much stronger than me. Ugh, I don't like being the weak one. I thought about taking up weight lifting as I gave up the struggle.

Fagan tried to squirm away, but Nik grabbed him by the shoulders and pressed him against the thin couch cushions. My desire to protect him welled up even stronger. I increased my struggle against Josh's grasp, but couldn't get free. How dare they threaten him for my sake? I hadn't signed up for torturing children.

"You know you can't get away, not with three vamps in the room. Now, you see that girl over there." Fagan's eyes flickered to me again. "She's been a vamp for just a few days and she hasn't quite gotten control over her... urges. I'd hate to leave you in a room with her."

The very thought of the boy's blood made my breath come in frantic gasps. I felt my teeth begin to shift into fangs and was suddenly thankful for Josh's firm grasp. I could hear Fagan's heart pumping his blood through his veins. I glared at the back of Nik's head, certain he could feel my fiery wrath. How dare he use me like this! The boy gulped and shivered. He probably thought my glare was directed at him. His fear made his heart beat faster and blood smell sweeter.

After the briefest second, all my thoughts turned to draining him. I no longer cared whether they were threatening him, or even beheading him. All I could see was red. All I could hear was his heartbeat.

"Look. I don't know for sure, but I hear things, you know, and some of 'em say it's for a spell or something. Like a sacrifice. Richard's been looking for things, but that's all I know!"

"What sort of spell?"

"I don't know!"

Nik slammed him against the couch just hard enough to make the furniture slide on the hardwood floor.

"I don't know!" he shrieked again.

Nik seemed to believe him this time. He stood up and released his hold on Fagan's jacket. He pulled out his sleek, leather wallet and dropped a bill on Fagan's lap before stepping away. The boy scooped up the money and bolted for the door. Once he was gone, Josh released his grip on me and took the Chinese food to the kitchen where he proceeded to eat it with a little blood dribbled over it like sauce. I stood in the corner shivering.

A sacrifice? Just great. Like my non-life wasn't weird enough. Suddenly I was the bloody sacrificial virgin?

Nik turned to look at me, an expression I couldn't understand pulling his eyebrows together and puckering the corners of his firm mouth. Before I could decipher it, Josh spoke, "Well that was only marginally helpful," the words garbled around half an egg roll.

"More so than you think. If it is a spell, then we'll just have to go see the wizard."

Josh swallowed suddenly. "Do we have to? She doesn't like me much."

"Who does?" Nik smirked. I was too stressed to be impressed that cranky, old Nikolai had just made a joke. "Come on. We need to get moving before the sun comes up."

"Are we really going to go wake up a little old lady at four in the morning?" asked Josh.

"Do you have a better idea?"

# Chapter Fifteen

I quickly found myself back in the borrowed car, driving toward Lacey. We pulled into a winding neighborhood called Wilderness. Halfway into the tree-infested development, Nik pulled the car into a driveway. The house was a basic ranch-style home, with a two-car garage jutting off the end, making an "L" shape. I glanced at the clock before following the others out of the car. I doubted whoever we were visiting would be thrilled to greet us at four in the morning.

Nikolai reached the door first and knocked. I heard groaning from inside and the creak of a bed. A few minutes later, the porch light flickered on and the door slowly opened. The bleary-eyed woman perked up the instant she recognized Nik and closed the door slightly. Wise response. Despite the caution, she smiled playfully. The woman appeared to be in her early sixties, with beautiful pure white hair framing her round face. She brushed her bangs into place with delicate, manicured fingers.

"Nikolai," she said in a playful voice, as though his name alone held years of personal jokes between them. "Forgive me if I don't invite you in."

Nik nodded, a smile of his own tugging on his shapely lips. "Of course not, Helen, no one expected you to."

"So, to what do I owe this pleasure?" she asked.

"We need some information."

"And you think I'll just hand it over?"

Nikolai glared at her, though I suspected it was less than genuine. "Fine, Helen. What do you want in exchange for information?"

The woman laughed softly as she pulled her fluffy robe tighter around her chest. Just then, the early morning rain began sprinkling down on our heads. I glanced up, sad not to see the stars anymore. And yet, I knew it would be safer with the cloud cover. I heaved a mental sigh of annoyance.

"Please, Nikolai. I can't tell you that until I know what it is you want to know," said Helen.

"What would both fae courts, Richard's seethe, and the werewolves all want with one vampire girl?" Nik inquired gently. "Rumor is it involves some sort of spell."

"A spell that requires a specific vampire. You're not giving me a lot to work with."

"It's all I know."

"Hmm... " She thought for a moment. "Look, I'm a decent wizard, but if this is something the fae want... "

"Or want to stop," interjected Josh.

Helen jerked her head down in a quick nod. "Or want to stop, then it is out of my league." She sighed, no doubt seeing our disappointment. "I'll see what I can dig up. If you learn more, let me know. Based on what you've told me, all I can say is—run and hide might be your best shot."

Wonderful. Just what I needed to hear. Nikolai nodded and began to turn back toward our car. I was ready to sprint. Don't get me wrong, I love western Washington, but that doesn't mean I like to get drenched, especially when I'm already tired and annoyed.

Before any of us had taken more than a step, she called us back. "Wait! Just remember, sacrificial lambs are chosen for a reason. You don't just sacrifice anyone."

Nik nodded slowly as if allowing the thought to click into place. Finally, once I was soaked through, he headed back to the car. I glanced at Josh. He looked like a little, drowned carrot. I didn't have enough room to feel pity for him; after all, he'd chosen to wear shorts and sandals. We climbed in and drove off. I handed Nikolai the cell phone stashed in the glove compartment out of habit. He glanced at me, a strange look on his face, before pushing the speed dial.

"Yes?" Mikhail asked.

"It's Nik. Fagan said the rumors suggest a spell. We went and spoke with Helen. She wasn't a lot of help, but she thought we ought to look into why they picked Ash to sacrifice."

"Ash, is it?"

Nikolai ignored him. "If it is a spell, then I doubt Phonoi is involved."

"We don't have proof either way. So keep your options open," ordered Mikhail.

"I'm going to take her to my apartment for the day."

"No. I need you back at the bar. Bring her too."

Nikolai didn't respond. He snapped the phone shut and tossed it into my lap.

When we arrived at the bar, the horizon was just growing pink. I suddenly felt weak and disoriented, while the buildings around me began to shift in strange, circular ways. Though we were moving quickly, it wasn't fast enough. I stumbled on the edge of the sidewalk and would have landed on my face if it weren't for Nik's fast reflexes. He grabbed me by the arm and pulled me back to my feet.

"Whas go'non?" I slurred.

"The sun. It's rising fast and the clouds are thinning and you're feeling the effects. We need to get underground."

He dragged me into the restaurant and past the unlucky few who had the task of cleaning up after last night's frivolity. There had been some sort of boxing match featured on the main screen last night to judge by the conversation between the cleaners. Once we reached the basement, I began to feel like my old self; well, not my human old self, but the vampire one. We shifted into the large room where I had first met Mikhail, which was fairly empty as most of the other seethe members had gone to their homes for the day.

Mikhail was drinking what looked like scotch from a crystal glass. Standing next to him was a woman garbed in a skintight dress and ridiculous heels—the kind of shoes a girl like me could break an ankle with. She looked like a character in my books, a beautiful seductress. Maybe I hadn't gotten it all wrong. Her sleek dress was strapless and ran just past her knees. On her neck hung a diamond necklace worth more than I could earn in a lifetime. Matching earrings dangled from her lobes, half hid by her long, chocolate brown hair that draped over her shoulders in perfectly disheveled curls.

"Hello, Nikolai," she purred as she sauntered forward and kissed him on the cheek. Her dark red lipstick left a faint print on his skin. Though Nik looked wary, a small smile played at his lips as his eyes ran over her figure. Whoever she was, he was openly interested. I saw an opportunity for mischief. "I see you've found a new... friend," she said, eying me with disdain and ignoring Josh completely. Her delicate hand was still resting on Nik's shoulder. Nik's smile turned into a grin as his eyes stayed locked on the other woman.

"Emma, what are you doing here?" His voice sounded both pleased and concerned. "This is Ash—a—er—newish member of the seethe."

"Oh?" she asked, glancing between Nik and Mikhail. Mikhail was smiling at her. It was the most affectionate look I'd ever seen on him. When they didn't respond she turned back to me. "Is that all? Not your lover?"

I tried not to laugh in her face. Nik was turning into something like an annoying priest slash babysitter—the one you tried to run away from. And who in their right mind sleeps with their babysitter?

I smiled and shook my head. He was all hers.

"No? I suppose that shouldn't surprise me," she said. A smirked played at her lips as her slim fingers reached out and flicked one of my damp braids over my shoulder. "She's very... cute. You may call me Miss Tanner."

"May I?" I asked in a sickly sweet tone mixed heavily with sarcasm. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Josh grin. The other men glared at me; it was the first time they had taken their eyes off of Miss Tanner. Whoops.

Miss Tanner suddenly had me pinned to the nearest wall. Double whoops! The back of my head hurt where it collided with the concrete. I blinked the stars away from my vision while she held me against the concrete, her forearm digging into my collarbone. It made it hard to breathe. Before I could panic, Nikolai stepped forward and placed a strong hand on Emma's shoulder.

"Remember Miss Tanner, she is under our protection," said Mikhail from his place across the room.

"Then you need to teach her manners," Miss Tanner snarled.

Nikolai laughed. "You're one to talk. I recall those weeks in Greece. How many people did you offend with your lack of manners?" He carefully guided Emma away from me, his hand drifting to the small of her back. I had the sudden desire to stake her. "Now, Emma, what is it you want? As glad as I am to see you, I doubt this is purely a social call," added Nik.

"Is it so hard to believe that I just wanted to see you?" she asked softly. If it weren't for my last mistake, I would have made a gagging noise. Or maybe suggest they get a room. Either way, it would have been cliché but funny. Instead, I held my tongue and glanced at Josh. The glint in his eyes suggested he was thinking of a similar retort.

"Maybe just a little," Nik said with a smirk. He was flirting. Nik, the "Grinch who stole Christmas" was actually flirting. I felt my eyes bug-out.

"I'm here to collect a debt."

# Chapter Sixteen

"A debt?" asked Nik. And now the Grinch looked like a sad, drowned puppy.

"Have you forgotten the favor you offered me back in Venis?"

Nikolai's wheels turned slowly as he remembered said favor. I glanced at Mikhail, who seemed content to let them continue with their verbal foreplay. He was still smiling at Emma. Evidently, he really liked her too.

Nikolai sighed. "What is it you want? Since it's clearly not me."

"Who says it isn't you?" Emma purred as she pulled a folded piece of paper from the bust of her dress. I realize that paper is thin, but really, how did she manage to fit it in there? Her breasts were already spilling over the top. I sighed. Women. Or should I be more annoyed with men? "But business before pleasure..."

She handed the sheet to Nik, who glanced at it and passed it on to Mikhail. I caught a glimpse of the paper. It contained a list of some sort.

"What is it?" asked Nik.

"Just a collection of items belonging to Henry the Fifth. I'm starting a new collection and am hoping to get my hands on these items. In the past, they have been sold together. But I lost track of who has them now. When I realized I needed help finding them, I could think of no one better than you."

"Is she talking about finding antiques or having sex?" I whispered in Josh's ear. The others turned to scowl. Oh right, vampires and their super human hearing. Oops.

"When do you need them?" asked Nik, diverting everyone's attention from my humorous blunder. Okay, Josh and I were probably the only ones finding it humorous.

"As soon as possible, really. I am planning a party around their debut in my collection. The party is in five days."

"I wish I could, but Mikail has me doing a task for him at present," said Nik.

Mikhail glanced up from the list.

"Still following Mikhail's orders?" Emma asked, her tone a mix of playfulness and sarcasm.

"I hold loyalty as a valued trait," said Nikolai. "Give us a moment, Emma. Maybe I can talk Mikhail into freeing up my time," he added, holding up a finger to forestall her from speaking.

Emma quirked the left side of her mouth up into a lopsided smile and sauntered out of the room.

Mikhail handed Nik the list. "It's your debt to pay," he stated. "If you wish to pursue it, you may."

"I'll need to leave Ashley here for her protection."

Mikhail stared at Nik for a long, awkward moment. "Are you refusing to do your duty to the seethe? Ashley is your responsibility."

"It won't be safe for her out on the streets."

"That is your problem. I will not have her here for long periods of time. The seethe is a place of safety for our family. Her continued presence here threatens the sanctity of the seethe. I want her out when the sun sets again."

"So you're saying I have to protect her, I just can't use our greatest source of protection to do it?"

Mikhail smiled as though he was simply asking Nik to get him a drink of water. "Are you suggesting you are not capable? Maybe Samuel... "

"No." Nik ground his teeth together. "I'll repay the debt later."

"I'd rather you finish this. Your debt is my debt. Besides, have you ever known Emma to ask for such a simple return to a favor? Normally she wants you to kill a dictator or something equally ridiculous. This should be easy. You can take Josh and Ashley with you."

It didn't sound like a suggestion.

I glanced between the two powerful men, feeling very uncomfortable, like the child in divorce court with the parents fighting over who had to take me. It wasn't a good feeling. All these problems were because of me. I was the remote detonator to a nuke, and I suddenly became grateful that my parents had never divorced.

"Josh, fetch Emma," Mikhail ordered. A second later they returned.

"I will retrieve the items," growled Nik, his eyes still flinging fire at Mikhail. Emma smiled brightly. The expression lit up her face in a way that made her genuinely beautiful. From the first moment I had seen her, I knew she was sexy, but real beauty has little to do with sex appeal. I saw why Nik was attracted to her. She was full of life and vigor. I couldn't imagine her doing anything half-assed or "just because."

"Goodbye," hinted Mikhail.

Josh took my arm and started pulling me toward the door. Nik pocketed the paper and guided Emma out.

"Josh, take the girl away. Nik and I have some catching up to do."

Josh obediently looped his arm through mine and began tugging me away from the others.

"Later, all," Josh said as he hauled me toward the lower level. He squeezed my arm slightly.

"Goodbye Miss Tanner," I said, slurring the title into a curse. She glared at me, looking ready to lunge at my throat. Before she could, Josh jerked me into the stairwell. We descended them at a run. She had a temper, I realized belatedly.

"Are you trying to get yourself killed?" Josh asked with a chuckle. "Emma is older and stronger than you."

Josh pushed the door to his room open and waited for to me enter—a gentleman, as always, despite the mussed red hair and sandals. Entering his room felt a little like going home. It had been a place of solace and safety after first realizing what I had become. Coming back to it, when exhausted and frustrated, made me feel as though there might be something of normality left in this world.

Everything, from his fancy futon to his mint condition posters, was just as it had been when I first saw it. I sighed, letting the fear and uncertainty drip from my stiff shoulders. I knew it didn't make sense. The room was hardly something I was familiar with, but it had provided me a safe haven when I needed one.

I glanced at Josh as he entered. Was it the room, or the person? A smile pulled my lips upwards. Josh was a true friend. I felt lucky to have him in my life. I forced the smile away, not wanting to share my epiphany just yet.

"So what's the story?" I asked to distract myself.

"What do you mean?" Josh pulled two blood bags from his fridge and guided me back to his futon.

"Nik and Emma. There's clearly a story!"

Josh grinned mischievously. "I don't know all the details, but I do know they met in Russia around 1800, or so. And were together awhile."

"Lovers?"

"Lovers," he said with a nod. "For about fifty or sixty years. During a violent riot in France, they got separated and had to flee the country. I think, but I'm not positive, that Emma left Nik and he barely survived as a result. It's taken Emma a long time to get back in his good graces. Since then he somehow became in her debt, though I don't know how exactly."

"It seems she has succeeded in 'getting back in his good graces'," I murmured before trying to force a grin to my own lips. Though I knew I should find the whole thing very funny, I couldn't; I just wanted to tear her head off. I tried not to think about what they might be doing.

Josh stared at me for a moment. "Not sure. I wouldn't worry about it."

He rose with a groan and moved to the dressers. He pulled out a pair of basketball shorts and a black T-shirt, tossed them to me, and nodded toward the bathroom area. "Go clean up and get some rest."

"I don't suppose I can have a room of my very own?"

He shook his head. "Not until you're a full member of the seethe."

I sighed and pulled the curtain closed around the tiled section of the room.

When I emerged, Josh was already changed into a pair of black basketball shorts that hung past his knees. I shouldn't have been surprised by the sleek shape of his chest. It wasn't the bulky weight-lifting muscle that would turn to gelatin if he aged. Instead, his body was covered in long, lean muscles. He looked like an Olympic swimmer rather than a body builder. I was surprised to find myself ogling Josh. It just wasn't right.

"You take the bed," he suggested as he made himself comfortable on the futon. "The sheets are clean."

I smiled and moved toward his queen size bed. I'd never met a man who would think about clean sheets for his guests. I'm not even sure if Jordan knew sheets were supposed to be cleaned on a regular basis.

I went to sleep with a sad smile on my face—thoughts of new and old friends mingling together.

# Chapter Seventeen

We woke a bit before the sun went down. Josh was sitting up on the couch and reading an old, well-worn comic book. He was freshly dressed in his usual cargo pants and a new T-shirt—black with white text that read 'I'm going to suck...' I wondered what the back said. He leaned forward slightly and I saw the rest of the phrase. '... Your blood.' Another ironic shirt for a vamp. It seemed like a warning... that no one would take seriously.

I sat down next to him and turned his comic book to see the title. It read 'Wonder Woman' in large, red letters. I cocked an eyebrow. "Really, Josh?"

"What? I like Wonder Woman. She cares about people equally. Fights for them just as fiercely as anybody else. It was an important trait at a time when some of the world believed certain people weren't worth as much as others," he added as he tapped the corner of the cover that revealed the date. It read 1959.

"Aren't old comics supposed to be in fancy protective cases and chambers that control the humidity—or something like that?"

Josh laughed. "Though this one might be worth a few hundred, it's not that valuable."

I scoffed at him. Two hundred dollars seemed pretty valuable for a comic book to me. He must have read it in my eyes.

"Well, in comparison, I have a 1941 Wonder Woman that's worth over twenty thousand. Now that one I don't pull out and read anymore."

My eyes grew wide. Was he serious? "Why not sell it then?"

"Cause it will be worth more the longer I keep it. Besides, at present, I'm not hurting for money."

I wanted to laugh at him, but I refrained. In comparison to Nik, he was struggling for money. Josh wasn't Nik. He didn't have the same expectations from life, and maybe that was a good thing. Wealth wasn't everything, I had to remind myself—but it was sure something.

"I don't suppose I can get some clothing that fits?" I asked in an effort to change the subject. I didn't want to say anything that would offend Josh.

Before Josh could respond, Emma waltzed in. "I can help with that." I stared at her while Josh stood up. Emma ignored his presence entirely as though he were a non-entity.

Emma wore a dress I would expect Audrey Hepburn to wear with pearls around her neck. Her hair was done up in an elegant twist that matched the style of dress. It was quite the contrast with the skanky number she had on the night or, rather, the morning before. She carried a small pile of dresses hung over her forearm and a large make-up bag in the other hand. "Into the bathroom with you, sweetie."

I glanced at Josh, really hoping he'd provide me an excuse. His eyes were narrowed, but then he noticed my attention. An evil grin spread across his face while he motioned for me to obey. I swore at him in my head and hoped he read it in my glare. Josh was nice enough to draw the curtain around the bathroom. In the meantime, Emma started holding the dresses up against my body. She settled on a little, V-neck, green tea dress.

"So... how long have you been with Nikolai?" she asked.

I nearly choked as a sudden spurt of laughter tried to burst through my lips. "Oh, I'm not with Nikolai... " I wracked my brain, trying to figure out how to cause some mischief. Wow, what was wrong with me? "But I see why you were interested in him. He is a bear in the sack!" While I spoke, she began applying makeup to my eyes. She nearly spread the mascara across my cheekbone. With a quick duck, I managed to dodge the worst of the black smudge.

"How would you know?" she asked through thin lips as she wiped the black off my cheek. I could tell she was trying to stay calm, but a slight tremble in her voice made it clear I had hit a nerve. I had no doubt that she had had other partners during their time apart, but evidently, it wasn't okay for Nik to stray—not that he actually had, to my knowledge.

"Oh don't panic. It was just once or twice. No big deal." I felt like a slut saying all these things, but the controlled anger making her face glow kept me going. "I have no regrets, though. He really knows how to satisfy a woman."

I heard a sudden crash from the other side of the curtain. Oops. I'd forgotten Josh could hear us. He knew I detested Nik, so he was probably enjoying this as much as I was—or at least that's what I told myself. I'd better wrap this up, I thought while I pulled the borrowed T-shirt over my head and dropped it on the counter.

"If I stood a chance, I'd go after him myself. Don't worry, Emma. He's totally into you."

I stepped into the dress and allowed her to zip it up for me. I felt her hands tremble against my back. "I hope you're right," she mumbled as she picked up the unused dresses and her make-up kit.

Just as I pushed the heavy curtain back for Emma to exit, Nik entered. A quick glance around the room showed me Josh, sitting in one of his matching globe chairs, his eyebrows pulled together and the corners of his mouth jutting down into an uncharacteristic frown. Before I could inquire, Josh rose from his seat and left us in his own room.

Emma stepped forward, the muscles in her shoulders and neck tense as she stomped passed Nik. Like me, he couldn't get a word out before she slammed the door shut. Nik turned his green eyes to glare at me before following her out. From my place in the confines of Josh's room, I heard Nik stop her. It seemed safe to assume Josh was nowhere nearby.

"What's wrong?" I heard Nik ask, though the door was closed between us.

"Her?" demanded Emma, the one word expressing far more than Nik could understand. Her tone was filled with subtext.

There was a long pause while I assumed Nik looked at her with confusion. I felt a giggle build up in my chest, which I forcefully pushed back down. The pause lengthened until Nik finally spoke up. "What about her?"

"You slept with _her_?" accused Emma.

"What?" demanded Nik almost before Emma had finished her question.

"Ash said that you..."

"Never!" snapped Nik, again cutting her off. After another lengthy pause, I had to move closer to the door, the mirth still fighting its way to my lips. Despite my new position, I still couldn't make out what they were mumbling. They must have been standing very close together.

Finally, when I heard something that sounded like a whine from Emma, the laughter burst. I stumbled to the futon and collapsed on it, my sides beginning to burn. It had been a long time since I'd laughed so hard.

It wasn't long before I heard the door open and hard footsteps march into the room. I blinked tears from my eyes and looked up at Nik. His face was an equally flushed color from the rage boiling up inside. He buffeted his way through the room, pushing a globe chair out of his way, and stopped at the edge of the bed. I looked up again, the sight of his holy rage bring forth another guffaw.

Before I could calm down, he grabbed me by the arms and hoisted me to my feet. The next bout of mirth stuck in my throat as I felt his strong handshake with rage. His nostrils flared and his eyes dilated. I felt myself swallow the laughter.

See that line? Yeah, I crossed it—with a flying leap.

"What did you say to her?"

"It was just a joke," I whispered. I watched as the muscles in Nik's jaw work as he ground his teeth.

"It wasn't funny," he growled. I suddenly felt like he might be right. "You just made the primus of a very powerful seethe look the fool, meaning she now hates and despises you. And the last thing you need is more enemies."

With this final statement, he took me by the arm and dragged me out of the room. I felt a bit like a small child being taken to her parent for a spanking. Thankfully Nik didn't seem to think that was necessary. I was grateful; that would have been awkward.

We reached the main level of the seethe and stopped in front of the double doors leading into the main room. Josh sat on the bottom steps heading up to the bar, resting his elbows on his knees and his jaw cupped in his hands. We stopped and waited for him to slowly rise to his feet.

And then the silence descended.

"So what is the plan for today? Epic war against evil? Apocalypse?" I asked after the silence got too uncomfortable. It didn't help. They both stared at me. I knew what was probably going through Nik's head, but I had no idea why Josh seemed so angry. Wouldn't he be entertained by the ridiculous joke I had played? Or maybe he hadn't realized it was a joke. I shook that thought from my mind. Naah.

"We'll be going after those things she wanted. Sooner she's gone the sooner you stop acting like an ass."

"You're actually going to get that stuff for her?"

"I owe her a favor. It is not within my power to pick and choose when I fulfill it. Besides, Mikhail ordered me to."

"Uh... how is it not within your power?"

"I wouldn't expect you to understand."

"Well, not when you don't explain it to me."

Nik ground his teeth together, his wide jaw flexing with the effort. I wondered if he slept with one of those rubbery mouth guards. Probably needed to. "She did me a favor. I must repay it."

"But why does it have to be now, when we have enough shit to deal with?" I just didn't really see the urgency.

"Because she has asked me to."

"So just because she asked you to you have to risk all our lives to get her some antiques?"

"YES! It is the custom of our generation and most of the preternatural world. Favors and promises are very important. You don't neglect a favor. You just don't. At the same time, you don't offer out favors unless it's absolutely necessary."

"And why not just say no?" I asked. He wasn't making any sense.

"As someone with no concept of honor, I don't expect you to understand," he snapped back before storming into the main room.

I followed him, feeling sullen and annoyed. Josh shadowed me.

The room was far from full, though a large group of people was huddled near the center. In the middle of the group stood Mikhail and another man. Fear made the stranger's shoulders tense and his eyes flicker around the room.

"I am sorry. But you leave me no choice. You have threatened our safety by your actions. The punishment for such deeds is death," Mikhail said in a formal voice as he reached for the man's head. The frightened man tried to bolt but ran straight into the crowd of people. Two willing assistants grabbed him, forcing him to his knees again.

The condemned trembled visibly. With an easy twist of his hands, Mikhail tore the man's head from his body. It turned to dust and fell to the ground. Panic flooded through me. I'd been told Mikhail was in charge of this little shindig, but I'd never quite realized to what extent. Evidently, it was in every way possible. He had just acted as judge, jury, and executioner. My life was completely under his control. And though his word was what was keeping me alive, I knew he could easily change his mind and I would be quickly dealt with. Nik would volunteer.

"What just happened?" I asked in a small, tense voice; my fight with Nik was suddenly forgotten in the wake of the man's death.

"That man broke the rules. Mikhail doesn't allow people like that to threaten our safety," Josh said, sounding subdued though resolute.

His response went in one ear and out the other. What rules? Was I at a risk of being beheaded? Why hadn't they told me about said rules?

# Chapter Eighteen

"Where to now?" Josh asked, to change the subject.

Nik pulled the crumpled list out of his back pocket. "Library, of course. I guess I'll talk to Mikhail later," he added, nodding toward Mikhail. We left the main room.

"Library?" I asked, forcing my brain back to the here and now. I jogged to keep up with Nik's longer legs; Josh was having to do the same thing.

"Of course. Where else do you go to get information?" he asked in a sarcastic tone. I rolled my eyes. Evidently, he was too set in his old-school ways to think of the internet.

We wound our way around the evening viewers finishing off their day in the restaurant. I held my breath and recited the Pledge of Allegiance until we exited onto the street; it was easier than dealing with temptation. I glanced up at the cloud-covered sky as I jogged to the nearest vehicle. The bouncer tossed the keys to Nik. We climbed into the sleek car. It was a new one from what we had used the night before; the foreign badge was one I didn't recognize.

Damn vampires and their money.

_Then again, Josh wasn't rolling in it,_ I thought as the young man—in appearances only—climbed into the back seat.

Nik drove through Olympia and into Lacey. The dashboard said 4:32 p.m., and being late October I wasn't surprised by the fading light of a winter sunset, effectively defused by the thick clouds. The evening traffic was thick as we drove up Pacific and into the adjacent town. He turned onto College Street, crossed over the freeway, and took a left into the library parking lot. Like many public buildings in western Washington, it looked like both the building and the parking lot had been laid out in a way so as to cut down as few trees as possible. The enormous evergreens and large rhododendrons grew right up against the outer walls.

I followed them into the library, suddenly feeling very conspicuous. It had been days since I'd been involved in normal human activities, like going to the library. On the way in, I glanced at the hours of operation sign. They didn't close till seven. I hoped that was enough time for whatever we were doing. We followed Nik through a couple rows of tall bookcases, finally stopping in the history section. He scanned one shelf of books before moving on to another. Thus far I had only seen one worker and one visitor, both situated at the other end of the enormous room. I was thankful. I couldn't take much enticement just now.

"What are you looking for?" I asked. He shushed me.

After a few minutes of searching—while Josh and I tried not to get bored—he pulled out a book, flipped through it, put it back, and pulled out another with the title of "Charles V, Holy Roman Emperor." Nik collected a few more with similar titles and made a neat pile out of them. He lifted half, leaving the other books for Josh. Evidently, as a woman, I was too fragile to carry books. I rolled my eyes and followed them to a large empty table tucked back in a dark corner.

"All right, start digging," ordered Nik as he set his stack down.

"What are we looking for?" I asked again reminding him that I'd yet to see the list. He handed it to me. It included a breastplate, a dagger named Veneno, a few silver bracelets with a vague description, the title of a book, a helmet, and a codpiece. "I'll search for the codpiece," I said as a joke.

Nik rolled his eyes at me and took his seat. We all began digging, trying to find references to the items mentioned. Over the next two hours, we found only a few brief references. We managed to find a picture of the bracelets matching the description, a painting of Charles V in the breastplate and helmet, and an idea of what was in the book—writings of Martin Luther.

Eventually one of the library workers pointed out the time. Again I held my breath while Nik and Josh exchanged quick but polite chit-chat. We returned our books and left. When we got to the car, I spoke up, "So what next?"

"Well, we got a little better information, so I think we'll go see Drake."

"And then we get the items and Emma leaves!" added Josh.

Nik glared up at him. "Don't forget who you're speaking about, boy. Even here she is still your superior."

"But not yours?" I asked.

"Technically, yes. She's the primus of one of the Portland seethes. Though I'm older than she, I have no children or vampires that are considered mine. Thus, in an informal way, it means she outranks me."

A movement near a neighboring car caught my eye. I saw someone watching us over the top of their S10 Chevy pickup. The look in their eyes said: "Wow these guys are weird," which is surprising, considering how many weird people there are in Olympia. I glared at them for a moment before they conveniently realized they needed to get into the vehicle.

We climbed into the fancy car, the tinted windows making it only a fraction darker than outside. The sun had fully set, which made me feel a great deal better. I hadn't realized how tired I'd been until the weight of daytime was taken from me. We drove back down Pacific toward the bar and my apartment. Nik parked the car as soon as we reached the edge of the downtown area and turned to look at me.

"We're going to see a fae," he began without preamble.

"Wait... fae like Muffler?" Again, I made a flapping motion with my hands—just like I had the last time we'd discussed the fae. Nik swatted them down, his face contorting in an annoyed grimace.

"Muffler. Yes. There are some rules you need to follow."

"Rules? Like rule rules or guideline rules."

"Rules. Now shut up and listen," he snapped. I bit my tongue to keep from replying in kind. "Don't say thank you, don't accept gifts, or food, or drink. You know what...just don't talk."

With that, he climbed out into the dark night. Josh and I followed him. The streets were surprisingly crowded for a Thursday evening. Nik led the way, carefully weaving his way through the growing throng of pedestrians over to the next block. Someone bumped into me and I struggled to keep myself from throwing a punch.

My skin tingled as though it were ready to crawl away on its own while my head started to ache and an all too familiar pressure formed against my gums. Why was I acting as if there were blood nearby? I hadn't been thinking about drinking or anything. What was wrong with me?

The sound of the pedestrians' hearts pumping seemed to grow louder or more intense. My breath came in rapid gasps as I trailed behind the others. We turned down a nearly deserted street. That is, only one young lady shared the walkway. She was dressed in a simple business suit, her frizzy, black hair pulled back into a ponytail at the base of her neck. She shifted to the edge of the sidewalk to give us space to pass.

As I drew near, I listened to her heartbeat. It was faster than normal. She was afraid, or nervous. The sound of her blood pumping through her veins was like a drum beat designed only for me, guiding me to my destination. As she passed by, her shoulder nearly grazed mine. Without thinking, I reach out, grabbing her by the arm and sinking my teeth into her shoulder.

At first, all I tasted was the cotton of her suit. I sucked at it, frustrated by the lack of taste, but that didn't last long. I faintly heard the woman scream, as if she were in a different room. She struggled against my grasp, but it was like wrestling a child. There was no hope of her escaping my hold. The power I felt excited me, made my proverbial heart beat faster. The minute I started using her like a straw warm liquid flooded into my mouth. The ache in my gums, the panic tightening in my chest, all of it disappeared as I swallowed the sweet yet salty, warm liquid. I inhaled deeply and resumed my drinking. Long before I felt satisfied, a pair of hands grabbed my shoulders and yanked me away from my meal.

I cried out, panic setting in as the stuffed suit slumped to the ground. I fought back, desperately reaching out for the one thing I wanted, but it was no use. Whatever held me back was stronger than me. Suddenly someone was picking up the suit and carrying it away. I cried out again while being dragged back into an alley.

"Breathe," a calm voice ordered. What was he talking about? I was breathing. Wasn't I?

It didn't matter. All I cared about was reaching my goal, sating my need. I didn't need to breathe. A sudden earthquake shook my body. I struggled against the rapid movement, losing my footing on the pavement while my head whipped back and forth. This made it impossible to run after the thing I needed, wanted. "Deep breath," said the calm voice as the strange earthquake ended.

I obeyed, hoping once I did it would release me.

"And another."

I repeated the action. My mind slowly started to clear, making it easier to think, as if I was slowly waking up. The panic eased in my chest and my gums stopped trying to explode out of my mouth. I wiped my hand across my mouth; it came back red. What was this? What had happened? As my mind continued to clear, I started to remember the woman in the suit, her screaming, and my desire. It felt like a bad dream. "Oh god," I whispered as realization set in.

I dropped to the ground, cradling my head between my knees, wishing I could pass out. I didn't, sadly. "What have I done?" I cried, tears spilling over my eyelids and dripping to the pavement before I could feel embarrassed by my sudden burst of emotion in front of a stoic, cruel-hearted bastard. I didn't make the effort to stop them. It was too late to preserve my dignity in his eyes. Nik knelt down in front of me and gently placed his hands on my shoulders.

"Look at me."

I shook my head, the tears splattering on the ground and mixing with the misty rain.

"Look at me!" he demanded again. When I didn't, he lifted me by the shoulders as he stood up, forcing me to do the same. I kept my focus on the ground. I couldn't look at him, or anyone who knew what I'd done. He let go of one of my shoulders and grabbed my jaw. If I had been human, he would have left bruises.

"Stop that!" Nik spat, no sympathy in his voice.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and looked at him. How could he be this mean? Even for Nik, this was downright cruel. But then he surprised me.

"This is my fault," he stated. His voice sounded as though he were ordering coffee, nothing more.

"How?" I whimpered.

"I let you get too hungry. I wasn't taking care of you like I should."

"When's the last time you drank? And yet you don't go around murdering people."

Nik nodded. "I am very thirsty. But remember, I've had a lot more time to learn self-control. You'll get there."

But it was my fault. No one forced me to jump that woman and tear her shoulder open. He hadn't made me what I was. His taking the blame wasn't actually very helpful. "Please, please just kill me. I can't take this. I can't do this!"

He gripped my face even tighter, his fingers like numerous iron monkey wrenches. "I will not kill you," he said slowly, making sure I grasped the message. Sure, now he didn't want to kill me.

Make up your freaking mind!

"You will learn control and you will learn to bury the guilt... or deal with it in some way," he added.

"But I'm evil."

"We're all evil to one extent or another. But that doesn't mean we can't find redemption."

"I doubt we could ever... " I couldn't finish my statement.

"Who are you to limit redemption?" He paused. "No matter what you do, I will not kill you."

"Until Mikhail changes his mind," I muttered.

"Not for this. This is easy to cover up, to hide. It is only those indiscretions that threaten to expose us that he will kill over. Besides, you're young," Nik added as he released my face.

"When will that no longer be an acceptable excuse?" I asked, feeling in no way mollified.

"Not for at least a couple years."

# Chapter Nineteen

Nik took me by the arm and led me out of the alley. A small part of me was curious about where Josh was and how he was cleaning up my mess. In the end, I decided it was better not to know. As we continued down the streets of Olympia toward the main thoroughfare of Fourth Ave., I couldn't keep my mind off the woman I had just killed. I had taken a life. She was likely a mother, and she wouldn't come home tonight. In just a few minutes, those loved ones would be getting a visit from Olympia's finest, and they would hear that mommy wasn't going to come home tonight, or ever. And it was my fault. I had not only destroyed that woman's life, I had taken her away from all those who loved her. I had ruined their lives too.

I was a monster in the truest sense of the word. Nikolai, Mikhail, Josh. They might be able to pretend or forget, but I couldn't. I would never forget that woman's face, the taste of her cotton suit, or the sound of her distant screams. They were part of me now and I wasn't a computer. I couldn't delete the file.

We stopped in front of a building with many large window displays of pretty antiques. The sign across the top read "Drake's Antiques." I followed Nik into the shop. The front of the store held displays of old four-poster beds dressed with antique quilts and gilded mirrors. Other displays had cast iron tubs surrounded by aged stools and other almost-antique items. Overall, it looked like a bunch of overpriced, slightly old stuff being hawked to idiots.

Were we really going to find that damn useless junk in here? Not that I really cared. I felt strangely numb, and not in a good way. The numbness fought against everything but the painful memories I wished would go away. It made me unable to distract myself with anything else.

From the back of the shop, a voice called out, "We're closed."

Nik ignored the warning and continued to weave toward the back. The farther in the more realistic the antiques became. We passed one case with old pistols, some looking to date back to the American Civil War. Another case held simple jewelry that looked genuinely old, not that I'm very knowledgeable on the topic. Emma would probably know better.

A man stood up from behind a counter and glared at us for a moment before he recognized Nikolai.

He sauntered around the counter and leaned against the glass top, eying the two of us. His black hair was done up in a stylish manner that didn't match with his occupation. He had a thin mustache and goatee. His blade of a nose held Clark Kent glasses, and he wore a dark purple dress shirt and black slacks. Like the other fae I'd met, his appearance looked slightly off as if someone had created him from a description of humans without actually seeing one. He was too long, too narrow.

"Nikolai," he said with a faint hint of an accent I couldn't place. "Who's your friend?" The shop owner eyed me slowly. I glanced down at the green dress Emma had loaned me. To my astonishment, there wasn't a drop of blood on it. Well, at least I didn't look like a Christmas ornament: a very morbid Christmas ornament. Though there was no red, the fabric was dotted with darker green where the drizzling rain had stained it.

"Ash," Nik murmured.

The shop owner stepped forward, took my hand, and kissed it like they do in the movies before whispering, "Pleased to meet you, Miss Ash." He didn't seem to notice the fact I had just been crying. Or maybe he didn't realize I didn't always look red and puffy. Or maybe vampires who cry don't become hideous like normal women. I couldn't tell you; I didn't have a mirror on hand.

I smiled. I couldn't help it. It's like a reflex to a girl when a strange, attractive man pays attention to her in a suave, debonair fashion. The fae's hazel eyes glowed in the artificial light. I felt my lips tweak up into a smile as I took an involuntary step toward him.

"All right, Drake, leave off," ordered Nik as he stepped to my side. Drake smiled at Nik, a look of perfect innocence clouding his features.

The sudden fire growing in my blood eased as the fae looked away from me. What just happened? But the minute he released me, the guilt reestablished itself. Its return was almost physically painful. I didn't deserve to feel relief, even for half a moment.

Drake returned to leaning against the glass counter. "And what can I do for you Nik?" he asked as though he hadn't just tried to seduce me with his eyes.

Nik pulled out the list, now decorated with our notes, from his back pocket and handed it to Drake. "Know where we can find any of these items?"

Drake chuckled. "You realize all these items are part of a rather large collection celebrating Charles the Fifth?"

Nik rolled his eyes. "Not exactly an answer. Did you forget Drake; you have a debt still unpaid."

_Sheesh, another debt. Stupid supernatural favors._ At least this one would help us. The proprietor's smile faded into a scowl. "True. A debt I am keen to discharge."

"Answer my questions to my satisfaction, and I will consider your debt repaid."

Drake forced a smile to his lips, the wheels in his head turning. He suddenly made up his mind and said, "Of course. Haven't seen these items in a long time."

"When was the last time?"

He laughed again. "Oh, centuries now. I was involved in the making of this breastplate," he tapped the paper, "But of course, that is not common knowledge. Kolman Helmschid was his name if I remember correctly. The blacksmith, that is. Last I heard of the breastplate, it was stolen from the Louvre a couple decades ago."

"And being human, Kolman is long dead," hinted Nik.

"Undeniably."

"And you have no idea where any of it might be now?"

Drake hesitated a moment. "Your guess is as good as mine."

Nik and Drake began talking in circles, neither relating anything tangible. I lost interest in the conversation. My mind wandered back to the woman I'd just murdered. I didn't think about drinking her blood, how it tasted, or how it felt soothing my burning throat. If I allowed my mind to wander down that road, I'd lose control again.

While the others talked about that stupid Holy Roman Emperor, I started wandering through the displays. As I neared the entrance, a plan started to take shape. Okay, maybe not a plan, but a notion, a vague glimpse of an idea. I glanced toward the back of the store. The others were still talking.

I reached up and silently slipped my fingers into the small bell hanging from the door. I shifted it off its hook, my fingers keeping the tiny clacker from hitting the bell. Once the bell was safely placed on a display table, I slipped out the door. I charged down the street, really regretting Emma's choice of outfit.

I didn't know how long it would take for them to realize I'd left, but I figured it was about as long as it took the U.S. to resort to a missile strike—in other words, not long. I turned down the first corner into an alley and ran past a trio of homeless men. They stared at me. No doubt I was an odd sight—a girl dressed to visit the queen running slightly faster than a human should down a dark alley. I turned left on Washington Street and charged toward Sylvester Park. I crossed the park at a diagonal, absently noting the stump of a burned tree. The opposite corner met with Capitol Way, my street. A few more minutes of flat out sprinting brought me to my apartment complex.

Though I was breathing heavily, I felt like I could continue in this fashion for the rest of the night. Cool! I ran up my steps, trying to be quiet, and slipped into my apartment. A small part of my brain acknowledged the fact this was the first time I'd really been alone since I'd been turned.

I slid to a stop in front of the old phone sitting on my desk and dialed the number.

"Hello?" a familiar voice answered.

"Isaac?"

# Chapter Twenty

"What are you doing?" my cat asked from his post on the foot of my bed. I ignored him while reaching back to unzip the dress. I paused in my actions, reevaluating the idea of undressing in front of my sentient, male cat. Muffler's whiskers twitched as he waited for me to continue. "It's not like I haven't seen you undress before," he added in a husky voice that made my skin crawl.

I scooped up the first outfit my fingers found and went to the bathroom. Muffler scurried after me and slammed his face into the door as I shut it. While I changed, I tried not to think about my disturbing pet. Oh well, if I had my way, I wouldn't have long to remember my cat's tendencies. When I returned, dressed in jeans and a long sleeve T-shirt, I spotted Muffler on my bed, looking thoroughly perturbed. He watched me scramble to put shoes and a sweatshirt on at the same time. I was in a hurry to get out of my apartment. No doubt this would be the first place Nik would come looking for me.

"You called the vampire who turned you?" Muffler asked. I tried to ignore him as I wrestled with the sleeves of my sweatshirt. Why wouldn't my arm just go in? "And you did this... why?"

"Leave this to me."

Before charging back out of the apartment, I dumped a fresh scoop of food into his bowl. I hoped Josh would adopt him when this was all over. Just as I was exiting the apartment, Isaac's silver car screeched to a halt at the curb. Isaac jumped out and met me at the side of the car. He flung his arms around me in an unwanted hug. I opened my mouth to ask the all-important question when Nik came skidding to a halt a few feet away. Before I could say anything, Isaac shoved me into the passenger side door and slid over the hood of his car in a Duke's of Hazard style. He jumped in and slammed his foot down on the gas. While we screeched away, leaving the smell of burning rubber in the air, I glanced out the window and caught a glimpse of Nik trying to run after us. _How futile,_ I thought.

Isaac drove quickly into Lacey.

"I'm glad you called," Isaac said as he drove at breakneck speeds. I just nodded, my hands holding tight to the door handle. I wasn't feeling completely calm about it. Isaac came to a stop in front of a large warehouse that claimed to be a flooring company. I couldn't figure out how to ask for the help I wanted.

He took my arm and guided me through the front entrance. To my surprise, it really was a flooring store. We moved to the back, went through a nondescript, metal door, and down a staircase into a concrete basement that gave me déjà vu. At the end of the corridor was a set of double doors. Isaac dragged me to them and pushed them open.

Was he in a hurry for some reason?

The room was large but very different from Mikhail's main hall. All the furniture was from the Victorian era: long chaises were mixed in with fainting couches. The walls were lined with hutches and enormous paintings—mostly of landscapes from all over the world. Next to the many couches sat delicate tables decorated with silver candlesticks and doilies.

"This is her?" A short man with a wide belly rose from one of the couches near the fire and stared at me.

Was he a vampire? If so, he was the ugliest vamp I'd ever seen. I thought they were always pretty hot. Nik was. Isaac definitely was. Josh was decent looking. But this dude? Eek!

"Yes sir," Isaac answered.

"Ashley Hawn. So you just turned yourself over to me?" the short man asked, his voice sounding almost accusatory. "Don't get me wrong, I'm pleased that you have. It saves me a lot of hassle in finding you."

"I'm glad I could help," I said, my sarcasm increasing with the number of butterflies flitting around my stomach. It was better to be waspish than scared. "What I really came here for... "

He waved his hand, cutting me off. "For now I will leave you in Isaac's capable hands... until I need you," he added cryptically.

"But... "

Isaac took me by the elbow and guided me out of the large room, not letting me begin again. We walked down the hallway and into another room. I took the time to regain my confidence. Like the larger room, this one was done up in antiques. It felt a little as if an old woman dressed in a black mourning gown ought to be sitting in the rocking chair, knitting. Against one wall stood a Queen Anne side table. He moved to it and began pouring drinks—the human kind, like scotch or something else that's brown. I don't drink much of the highbrow liquor. Can't afford it.

He handed me the crystal glass, and I sniffed at the liquid. It tickled my nose. With my stomach in knots, I wasn't sure this was the best choice; I drank it anyway. Yuck. Isaac chuckled before taking a sip of his own drink. He stepped forward and took mine from me, setting both glasses down on the nearest table. Isaac grabbed me by the shoulders with a speed that spoke of his predatory nature. Then, with no warning, he kissed me.

The kiss was hard, ferocious, and desperate all at the same time. It distracted me from my mission. I forced an image of the black-haired woman into my mind. She would never kiss anyone ever again. The thought hardened my resolve. I would get what I came for—it wasn't this. I pushed at his chest and took a few steps away; he released me reluctantly, confusion wrinkling his very attractive forehead as he stared at me.

"I need you to kill me. For real this time. I know vampires don't die easily. But I'm sure you could manage it."

Isaac smiled condescendingly at me his head shaking back and forth slowly. "I can't. I needed you as a vampire."

"Needed me? For what?"

"You'll find out in due time." Isaac stepped forward, reaching out for me. "Until then... " he added in a voice that reminded me of characters in my book.

I moved away, placing a fragile looking chair between us. I never had the heroine in my books avoid the hero; then again, Isaac wasn't the hero in this story.

"Please, just kill me now," I begged piteously.

"Are you thirsty," he asked, seemingly out of the blue.

I shook my head, trying not to think of the woman I had recently killed.

"I think you are. You're emotional; it probably means you need to drink."

"I'm emotional because my life was turned upside down. And you did it! Now I need you to fix the mess you made," I pleaded, trying to sound calm and logical; I felt neither.

His face shifted from a condescending smile into a sickened glare. His brows contracted and his mouth turned down. I felt a shiver run down my spine, though I wasn't sure why I should be afraid of him. He'd technically already killed me.

"No," he snapped. I had never seen Isaac angry before. It was quite the sight. His white skin flushed red with heated wrath, making his dirty blond hair stand out. I took an involuntary step away from him and bumped into the large, elegant bed. "Look, Ashley, I need you to be a vampire. A living vampire. I never meant to leave you in the hands of someone like Nikolai. Something far more terrifying showed up and I had to flee. They chased me, leaving you safe. I'm so sorry for abandoning you."

By this time, Isaac had slowly made his way to my side. I didn't know if I should believe him. But I'd already placed myself in his care. It was a little late to change my mind.

"It's going to get better. I promise. Besides," he added in a soothing tone, "this way we have a long time to be together. Hundreds of years, rather than the measly eighty belonging to a human."

"But I didn't want this. You should have talked to me about it," I cried out. I wanted to believe him, to believe this was all due to love. But my mind screamed at me to run, or better yet, drive a stake through his heart. He had never appeared to love me when I was human. Why would he start now?

This was not turning out as I had planned.

"I didn't have a choice," he sighed. "Richard insisted. He had to have you."

Now the truth comes out! I was right not to trust him. If only I had realized it before calling him on the phone. Stupid Ashley.

"So what? I'm his now?"

"In a technical way, but in truth, you're mine," he whispered before trying to wrap his arms around me. I scooted away, his fingers grazing my arms, but I was running out of places to go.

"Maybe I'm thirsty after all," I said. There seemed a slim chance he would take me outside, where I might be able to escape... or be rescued.

But escape wasn't what I wanted. To convince him to stake me, that was my mission, I reminded myself.

The very thought of blood made the terror and desire envelope me. It is confusing to experience two completely conflicting emotions: to want something so badly and yet be afraid you might get it. As expected, my gums ached, my throat felt raw, and my breath entered my lungs at a painful rate.

All scheming left my mind.

He took me by the hand, led me out of the room and up through the flooring company. Where was he taking me? I couldn't imagine they kept their blood bags in a cooler on the sidewalk. This was the exact opposite of what I'd hoped for. Maybe escape was a better plan. I couldn't kill someone, not again.

Once out in the cold, damp night air, I was better able to think. I took a few deep breaths, seeking the clarity of mind I would need to make my sudden escape.

I let Isaac lead me away from the flooring company, sure that it would take him some time to find a victim at this time of night, and during that time I could find a chance to make a clean get away from him and his peer pressure.

What a mess I'd made of this whole situation

To my astonishment, there was a person standing on the sidewalk, smoking a cigarette. I had counted on it taking longer to find a human daft enough to be out in this frigid weather.

Isaac dropped my arm and rushed the man. He moved like the Concorde airplane, except without all that crashing. It reminded me of the way Nik and Josh moved. I idly wondered if I'd ever be able to copy them. Isaac grabbed the man by the neck while rounding his body. The man's face contorted into dismay as he tried to struggle against Isaac's inhuman strength. I could relate to how he felt, though that was the last thing I was thinking about. Isaac smiled at me, lowered his lips to the man's neck and sunk his pointed teeth into the flesh. He lifted his head, blood dripping enticingly from his teeth.

The desire I had been battling for the past couple days, or nights, welled up inside me. All the symptoms I'd been trying to ignore became almost unbearable. The pressure in my gums was intense but sudden. I licked my lips and felt my lengthened teeth slice my tongue. My chest tightened and my stomach gave a little flip as I inhaled through my nose. The smell of the warm liquid cleared any real thought from my mind. It was all instincts from there.

There was no plan of escape left in my brain.

I stepped forward, noticing the terror in the man's eyes. The fear increased my excitement; it made his blood smell sweeter. I took hold of his shoulders and bent my head to enjoy the trickling blood. Just as my lips touched the warm liquid another pair of hands grabbed my head and yanked me backward, flinging me into the air and across the empty road. I landed on my neck and shoulders, a sickening crack and a jolt of pain cutting through the haze of hunger.

I wanted to get up, but I couldn't feel my feet. Would this heal? Panic!

As anyone might expect, Nik stood between me and Isaac. Isaac dropped the shaken man and rushed at Nik. At the same time, I spotted Josh jogging to the man's side and leading him away. Nik easily repelled Isaac's initial attack, shoving him to the side.

Isaac stumbled away, a very human sounding growl emanating from his throat. He regained his footing and prepared to come at Nik from his side. But Nik was too fast. He skipped away, just as Isaac rushed him again. This time, Nikolai grappled his opponent by the back of the neck as he raced by, and shoved him to the ground. Isaac struggled against Nik, nearly freeing himself. Nik clutched Isaac by the hair and slammed his forehead into the pavement. Isaac went limp and I screamed.

Evidently, some tiny vestige of my feelings for him remained. _Stupid girl! He's an ass,_ I reminded myself.

Nikolai turned to look at me, his eyes black in the night, no trace of life or sanity left. I felt a shiver run down my spine as he rushed me. In one fluid motion, Nik picked me up and flung me over his shoulder as he continued away from Isaac's body. The world bobbed as he ran, his shoulder jabbing into my gut. But at least I could feel my feet again.

I watched the receding shape of Isaac lying in the middle of the road. Was he dead? I couldn't recall Nik saying vamps died via blunt force trauma to the head.

"No," I shrieked, finally catching my breath. "I gotta go back!" Not really sure why I said that or felt that way, but I did.

"He's fine," Nik mumbled through his clenched teeth, his gait remaining steady. After another block, Nik stopped, opened a car door, and dumped me into the driver's seat. He pushed me toward the other side and climbed in after me, clearly not trusting me to stay put while he walked around the car to the opposite door.

Before he had the door closed, he had turned the key and slammed his foot onto the gas pedal. We screeched away, him driving like a Formula One racer and me holding on to the seat belt. After a few minutes with only the sound of the car's angry roar, Nik spoke.

Okay, it was more like a yell.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Wrong with me?" I screamed back "What's wrong with you? I went there on my own."

"And that's supposed to make it okay? We've been trying to keep you away from Richard and you just gift wrap yourself?"

"Well, maybe that's a mistake! Maybe if you'd just handed me over to him at the beginning none of this would have happened."

I realized this wasn't the true reason I had gone to Isaac, but I didn't want to tell Nik the truth.

Nik growled as he slammed the car to a stop in front of what looked like a very nice condo. He dragged me out of the car, across the lawn and through the front door. My guess was this was Nik's apartment. Compared to his mansion, it was a shock, but compared to my shack it was quite the mansion. He pushed me onto a black leather couch before careening into the kitchen and back. Nik tossed me a blood bag.

"Now listen to me," he demanded as he plopped down on the couch next to me. "Richard is a cynical, cheating basta—jerk," he said, stumbling to edit himself. "His motives are never simple. Nor are they pure. He didn't have Isaac turn you because he liked the way you looked. There is always more going on beneath the surface. We have to know what that is before you go traipsing off to him."

"You ever think that maybe we'd all be better off if I did just go to him?"

"Absolutely not! Knowing Richard, he's probably trying to conjure himself a genie to take over the world. Why would you go to him? Are you stupid?"

"I went to him hoping Isaac would stake me!" I snapped back, the truth spilling out of its own accord.

Nik turned in his seat on the couch, took hold of my shoulders, and gave me a rough shake. "That is not an option."

"But I'm a monster," I shrieked in his face as I jerked my shoulders free from his strong fingers.

"You don't get to give up. Giving up is just giving into that darker side. You have to fight for it! Fight to be a good person."

"I can't!"

"Then you're even worse than you realize. We all have a darker side, even before being turned. But we fight, each day, to be better. Giving up makes you pathetic..."

Nik wasn't able to finish. Josh burst through the door. "What the hell was that?"

"Not you too," I snapped back and stormed out of the room before tears could leak from my burning eyes. I didn't want to think about what Nik had just said. Not knowing where I was going, I ended up in a bedroom. I didn't know if it was Nik's, but I didn't care either. The bed squeaked as I flopped onto it. I stared up at the very tall ceiling, trying not to hear what the others were saying and failing miserably.

"I don't think yelling at her is going to be very helpful," Nik said, his voice slowly cooling after our fight.

I heard an almost comical growl come from Josh. Evidently, he wanted to yell a little more.

"Besides," continued Nik. "I've already done the yelling."

"Why did she run off?"

"To get Isaac to stake her."

I flinched at his words, feeling like a complete coward. Maybe, just maybe, Nik was right. But I knew it was necessary. I was a threat to all humanity or at least the portion that lived in the greater Olympia area. I held my breath, determined not to scream at them. There was a strange silence, followed by the sound of light footsteps heading my way. Josh entered, his blood-stained shirt removed. He didn't have the rippling muscles of Nik or Isaac; instead, he had that not-an-ounce-of-fat look. It made me think of Richard. Neither of them looked like the typical male runway model. In my books, vamps had always been super attractive—like Isaac and Nik. But Richard had proved to be a rather normal looking guy... okay, more of a butt-ugly guy.

I really hated these reminders that my writing was shit. You know those points in your life where you realize you've failed at something you really set your heart on? You see it in the Olympics when athletes hurt themselves or they lose the chance at a medal. They're broken, downtrodden. That's how I felt. I'd worked so hard at being a writer. And despite two published books, I suddenly realized I wasn't an artist. I wasn't highly creative. I was just the last man standing, so to speak.

Josh strolled to the fireplace and flipped a switch. For some reason, it seemed odd for a really old vampire to have a gas fireplace. Too modern. Josh leaned against it, the contented look on his face out of place considering all the recent shouting.

"How long have you known Isaac?" he asked. The question startled me.

"Um... we'd been dating for a couple months before all this." I waved my hand in the general direction of the living room, where I assumed Nik remained.

"There are some things you need to know about Isaac." Josh sauntered over to the bed and lay down next to me. At first, he simply stared at the ceiling, showing no inclination for actually telling me the story. Eventually, he sighed and began. "There were originally three seethes here in Olympia. It made things... complicated. A lot of hungry vamps in a comparatively small area. Richard decided he wanted more territory, and so he attacked the Tumwater seethe—my seethe. I was out of town that day. When I got back they were all dead. All but Isaac that is."

"Isaac was part of your seethe?"

Josh nodded. "This was nine or ten years back. Isaac helped Richard in through a back door in exchange for his life. Richard slaughtered the whole seethe. When I got back and discovered the massive pile of ashes, I went to Mikhail. He accepted me but has always mistrusted me. It's natural I suppose—the new guy and all."

"He killed them all?" I asked. Strangely it made me more confused. Why hadn't Isaac been willing to kill me then? He clearly had no moral compass.

I realize this is stupid, considering that I'd asked to be killed, but I felt a little relieved that he hadn't done what I'd asked. I guess the desire to live is just too strong.

"Yes. Just to make his feeding grounds larger."

I cringed away from the thought. "And Isaac helped him?"

"Isaac liked the idea. He quickly rose through the ranks, somehow managing to kill all the vampires older than him other than Richard. I doubt the duels were exactly on the up and up. He's now Richard's right-hand man."

I had to paint a new picture in my head of the man I'd dated. He wasn't the Isaac I had known. Not by a long shot. I suddenly felt very alone, even with Josh lying next to me. I could hardly go to Chloe or Jordan about this. And Nik wasn't that helpful. He'd just tell me what an idiot I'd been.

"I went to Isaac and asked him to kill me," I said before I could edit my words. Josh already knew this, but I needed to say it. "He wouldn't do it. Said he needed me as a vampire."

"That could be a clue."

I nodded. "All right. Let's find out what the bastard wants and make sure he never gets it." Maybe it was the experience of nearly getting what I wanted, or thinking I nearly got what I wanted, but I suddenly had a new vigor for life. I would wipe the floor with Isaac's ass and make him pay out like a Las Vegas slot machine. It was easier to transform my fear and depression into anger.

"Sure, believe him," mumbled Nik from the other room. I heard his footsteps as he entered, but kept my eyes on the ceiling. I really didn't want to deal with him right now. "Isn't that what I'd been saying all this time?"

"But with far less detail," smirked Josh as he rolled off the bed. I glanced up at them in time to see Nik nod his head toward the exit. Ugh. What now? Josh quietly left before Nik closed the door. He leaned against it, keeping his distance.

"So, have you come to your senses?"

"Always the charmer," I sighed.

"No. I just don't sugar coat it and spill my heart out like Josh."

"Assuming you had a heart." Okay, _that was low, even for me._ "Sorry."

"No you're not!" he snapped. I sat up to look at him. "That's how you honestly view me?"

"Yes... no... I don't know. Haven't you noticed sometimes I say things before I really think about them?"

"Yes."

I glared at him.

"You asked," he pointed out.

"Doesn't mean I want an honest answer," I said, a good pout forming on my lips. Even after all his years of existence, he didn't know a thing about women. I stifled the pout before I seemed any more pathetic. "Just remember, you're the one who's tried to get Mikhail to kill me... multiple times." Though I had thought about what I was saying, for a change, I couldn't keep it from slipping out.

Nik stared at me for a long moment, his expression cold and fierce. I was about to suggest a new topic when Nik sauntered over to the bed and sat next to me. "Listen to me carefully," he began, nudging my shoulder until I looked at him. "If Mikhail orders me to kill you, I will do it without hesitation. But that doesn't mean I will do it with joy. In fact, I think I might actually be a little upset."

"Wow! That's comforting to know you'll be a 'little upset'," I said. Sarcasm is better than bed-wetting-terror.

"But I won't do it unless he orders me. Life is worth living. And if you give up and get someone to kill you, you miss out on all the opportunities for doing good."

"You mean like killing innocent women in the streets?"

"No, like running a homeless shelter like Josh does."

That surprised me. Not that I didn't think Josh was great. I just had trouble seeing him as a soup-pouring kind of guy.

"You're making me blush," said Josh from the other room.

"Our long lives give us the opportunity to do a lot of good in this world if we choose to take that advantage."

"But that doesn't make up for what I've already done."

"No," agreed Nik. "But wouldn't it be worse to just give up and not try to do any good?"

"You know... you can be kinda annoying sometimes."

"Me? What about you? A pipsqueak, dropped in my lap, demanding my undivided attention, who got my people ki... " Nik stopped suddenly, but I knew what he was getting at. "I didn't mean that. I don't actually... I mean... You know I... "

"Just shut up, Nik!" I snapped before storming out of the room. Just as I reached the living room, a loud banging on the door resounded through the apartment. Nik was beside me in an instant, his business face already on. His own blood bag forgotten, Josh rose from the couch and got into position; both men were in front of me. I couldn't decide if it was chauvinistic or gentlemanly—can it be both?

Nik stepped forward and opened the door. I would have expected him to open it just a crack, but no, he acted as though he was letting in a friend. He probably knew the door wasn't much defense against the things that go bump in the night. Richard himself stood in the doorway, Isaac on one side, his face already healed, and a vamp I didn't know on the other side.

Oh crap. Now I've done it.

"Mr. Krasniy," Richard said with a sickening smile while folding his small, pudgy hands over his round stomach. Isaac, on the other hand, glared at Nik as he leaned forward, ready to attack. The third man looked unsure while his nervous eyes flittered between speakers. "You have one of my children, whom I'd like back."

"Oh? Your child? I didn't realize she had gone through the Joining with you. Ash, why didn't you tell me?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder and winking at me. He appeared relaxed, none of the anxiety I knew he should be feeling apparent in his stance. His hand still rested on the door as he turned back to our guests.

I suspected Josh looked more like I felt—sheer panic coloring what I could see of his pale face. His fists were clenched at his sides and his stance was forward, ready to defend me, no doubt.

I may be new to the whole vampire life, but I knew Richard was older than Nik, and, therefore stronger, despite his appearance. And if Nik was taken out, Josh and I didn't stand a chance. Isaac was older than both of us combined and I had no idea how strong the third man was. What were we going to do?

"We have not had that pleasure. But Isaac turned her, she belongs to my seethe."

"As I recall, Isaac did not originally belong to you. He chose. Will you, therefore, give her the same choice?" Nik asked, his voice still sounding like he was having a conversation with a friend over tea—very deceptive.

Richard turned his eyes on me, waiting. "Uh—thank you, Richard, for your hospitality, but at this time I'd like to stay with Nikolai," I said. I hoped that statement wouldn't go to his head, but I felt the need to be diplomatic.

Richard's eyes lightened as he smiled at me, sending a shiver down my spine. I realized there was no hope of him leaving peacefully. One glance at Isaac confirmed my suspicions.

"I'm afraid I cannot accept that answer," the fat man said.

In a blink of an eye, he slammed into Nik, sending him crashing into the dining room table, and pinning him to the ground. Isaac rushed Josh, but the younger vampire was prepared for it. He ducked, flipping Isaac over like a hockey player might do on the ice. The third mystery man rushed me. Rather than try to fight him with no weapons at hand, I turned and sprinted into the sitting area. The room blurred as I rushed. So that was what it was like to run vampire fast?

I jumped over Nik's black coffee table and picked up one of his matching side tables. It broke into pieces when I spun around and slammed it into my attacker's shoulder. I held onto one of the legs, realizing I had a stake. Cool. I felt a bit like a blonde girl from Sunnydale.

Trying to keep up the feeling, I swung at him with my empty fist while at the same time smashing my stake into his chest. The move worked... except for my aim. I stabbed him in the gut. He grunted and bent around the stake. I jumped back and picked up another leg to the table while he yanked the stake out of his stomach.

Damn, now he also had a deadly weapon.

To my astonishment, he dropped it and came at me with open hands. Must have an order to take me alive, I realized as I skipped away from him.

It's just like dancing, I told myself in an attempt to stay calm; a dance where you want your partner to die. He followed me and managed to slam his fist into my chest, sending me flying into the wall. I heard a crunch as I made an Ashley size hole in the drywall. The man grabbed me by the arms and pulled me out of the wall. He slammed me into the floor, pinning me with his knee. But I fight dirty!

I bent forward and sank my teeth into his thigh, tearing away a small piece of flesh. To my disgust, it didn't taste bad, just watered down. He jerked away with a loud bellow. I took that opportunity and rolled toward the TV. Strangely, a small piece of my mind thought about how much I didn't want to destroy the enormous, flat screen television; at least, not until I'd gotten to watch something on it.

From the other side of the room, I heard other crashes and shrieks as my companions fought for their lives. At least they were still alive, I thought, as I rolled further, trying to keep out of my opponent's reach. He fell toward me, trying to slam both his fists into my stomach. I dodged his blow, for the most part, his knuckles barely grazing my side. It still hurt.

I assaulted his head with my knee—which hurt, by the way—and drove my stake into his shoulder. It might not kill him, but I knew firsthand that pain would slow him down. While he battled the wood sticking out of his shoulder socket, I jumped onto the enormous, sturdy looking coffee table. The man seemed to feel it more important to pin me, rather than get the stick out of his body. Perfect, I thought as I flinched away from his first swing. I kicked him in the chest, dodged, and finally reached for the black table leg protruding from his shoulder. I yanked it out just far enough to slam it back into his chest. Finally, I hit the mark. His eyes bulged for a brief second just before he crumpled into dust.

Before I could put too much thought into what I'd just done, I leaped off the table and sprinted over to Josh. Isaac had him pinned against the back wall, smashing Josh's head into the drywall over and over again, right where a stud was half concealed. Blood was dripping from Josh's neck, nose and the back of his head. As I reached Isaac, he bent Josh's neck to the side as if to bite him again. I grabbed Isaac by the hair and pulled with all my might. To my wonder, Isaac flipped backward and skidded across the gleaming hardwood floor. I positioned myself in front of Josh, giving him a chance to collect himself.

After spitting out the wad of flesh he'd torn from Josh's neck, Isaac forced his face into a scowl. He glanced at Richard, who had not managed to corner Nik. Both of the older vamps were bloodied and slowing.

"Richard!" Isaac called before bolting out the door. Evidently, he didn't like anything near a fair fight. Richard gave the room a glance, his quick eyes taking in the pile of ash and Isaac's sudden disappearance, before following Isaac out into the early morning glow. I ran toward the door, slamming it shut and flipping the deadbolt. Normally it would be a futile effort, but the morning was coming. We would be safe until the sun set again; at least, that's what I told myself.

Nik stared at me for a moment before toppling to the ground, slightly propped up by the kitchen cabinets. Josh had also taken refuge on the floor. I didn't know who to help first. Before I could decide, my feet led me into the kitchen. I jerked the fridge door open, finding a neat display of blood bags hanging from a homemade rack. I grabbed two bags, tossed one in the general direct of Josh and knelt beside Nik.

I could barely see his face through the blood pouring out of a long gash across his forehead. Blood was also soaking his tan shirt. Though I could feel my thirst rising up in my throat, it wasn't like when I smelled human blood. The red liquid pouring from Nik's body smelled diluted. I breathed through my mouth and focused on my work.

I found a hole in his shirt and gave it a good yank, effectively tearing the shirt in half. Nik's abdomen had a strange gouge in it, as though Richard had managed to shove his fist into the soft part of Nik's belly. I could see some of his smaller ribs were broken near the tip. Along the edge of the wound, the flesh looked bruised. I tried not to think of it as blood and guts. The thing was it didn't disgust me. Seeing his wounds made me hungry. I dragged my eyes away from his stomach. Nik's left shoulder looked dislocated and his right foot was pointing in the wrong direction. I didn't even know where to begin or what to do.

I punctured the blood bag with my own teeth, careful not to taste the blood myself. I realized I couldn't remember the last time Nik had eaten—not since meeting me over thirty-six hours ago. Nik appeared to be unconscious, so I tipped his head back and dribbled the cold liquid onto his lips, hoping it would revive him. I tried to ignore my own desire, which was making it hard to concentrate on the task at hand. This blood did not smell watered down not at all. His lips moved mechanically and clamped down onto the plastic. Once he had drained the bag, he opened his eyes. They were a very faded shade of green. He blinked a few times and tried to position his head against the cabinet.

I slipped out of my sweatshirt and tore the hood off. This whole vampire strength thing could sure come in handy. I placed the hood on his forehead and positioned his good hand on the makeshift bandage. He left it there, applying a little pressure. I used the rest of the sweatshirt to plug the hole in his stomach. To my surprise, it already appeared slightly smaller. In fact, the broken ribs appeared to be mended. Careful not to bump him, I leaned around the island to see Josh. He had devoured the blood and was now curled up on the floor. Overall he still seemed to be in better shape than Nik.

"Nik," I whispered. His eyes fluttered open. "I don't know what to do. Your shoulder is dislocated and I think your ankle is broken."

He swallowed before speaking. "Where's Josh?"

"Over there. He doesn't seem to be conscious. He drank some blood."

Nik nodded once, very slowly. "Carefully manipulate the shoulder back into place," he instructed.

Now it was my turn to swallow. I didn't know how to do this, but there wasn't anyone to run to. Normally, I realized, I would have run to Nik, but now he was the one hurt and bleeding. I swallowed again before taking his arm and extending it away from his body. I did exactly as he told me to, finally hearing the pop as it relocated. Nik sighed with relief.

"What about your ankle?"

"You need to re-break it before it heals any further."

I could feel my eyes grow larger.

"You can do it," he encouraged in a rather feeble voice. "Just be quick."

I shifted my position and took hold of his foot. This wasn't going to be fun. Before I could think about the pain I was causing, I twisted the foot back into the proper position. To my astonishment, Nik didn't scream. He didn't even jerk. Still, his face told me that it had hurt him far more than the initial break.

I felt hot tears start to roll down my cheek. This wasn't the time to get emotional, I told myself sternly. He was still very hurt. I went back to his side and carefully pried the soaked sweatshirt away from his stomach. The massive crater had shrunk to the size of a golf ball. In fact, it didn't seem to be bleeding anymore. I reached out and pulled the hood away from his forehead. The cut was nothing more than a fresh scab. Wow, he healed fast! Age really did have its benefits.

"Go check on Josh."

I obeyed, for once. Josh stayed asleep while I checked on his wounds. As I expected, the back of his head had been cut open and the skull cracked, but it appeared to be nearly healed, though his red hair was matted with dried blood. I wasn't too worried about his nose, which had also stopped bleeding. The gash on his neck seemed to be taking a position of last priority. It still oozed blood. Josh woke up as I neared the end of my inspection.

"Anything broken?" I asked, having not seen any misshapen bits.

He shook his head carefully but drifted back to sleep before I could ask any more questions. I glanced over at Nik who was watching me from his slumped position in the kitchen.

"Get him to the guest bed, if you can," he said in a soft, gravelly voice.

I eyed Josh's body. He was about the same height as me, but I knew he weighed more than me. At least, my girlish pride hoped he did. Could I lift him?

_Of course_ , a small part of my mind announced. _I'm a vampire after all_. I managed to get an arm under his shoulders and the other under his knees. I lifted with my legs as my father taught me. To my astonishment, it felt like I was carrying a small child.

But which was the guest bedroom?

Nik motioned toward the room I hadn't seen yet. It was smaller than the other, simply decorated, with clean, basic furniture. I gently placed Josh on the bed, not worrying about the blood stains forming on the cream bedspread, and covered him with the throw blanket from the foot of the bed.

In the kitchen, I found Nik right where I'd left him. "Go get some sleep. You can use my room."

"What about you?" I asked.

"I shouldn't put weight on my ankle for a few more hours. I'll go to the couch when I can."

I rolled my eyes at his manly stupidity. "Don't be ridiculous." I moved to his side and reached for his good shoulder in an effort to pick him up.

"No," he ordered. "I'll not have you carrying me."

"I wouldn't dare," I sighed, my voice dripping with sarcasm. It failed to hide just how shaken I really was. Sarcasm, I have found, is typically my greatest mask.

I hadn't intended on carrying him, never really imagining I could manage it. This was Nik, after all. It had nothing to do with pounds or muscles, even supernatural muscles. I just couldn't fathom myself capable of lifting the most powerful person I knew. "You can at least lean against me and hop to the bed. There is no reason for you to stay here."

Nik hesitated a moment before nodding slowly. I bent down and lifted him by his good shoulder, my other arm slipping around his waist as he grabbed onto the counter and helped me. He placed his good arm over my shoulders and we hobbled toward his bedroom.

It wasn't graceful, but we got there in the end.

I lowered him to the bed and tucked the covers around him, again not worried about the stains. He was asleep before I had finished with his blankets. I didn't wait to search through his drawers for a clean shirt. Rather, I collapsed beside the bed and fell fast asleep.

# Chapter Twenty-One

I woke to the sound of a shower turning off. It took me a moment to remember the happenings of last night, or even where I was. Perhaps that was because I was no longer where I had fallen asleep. I now rested on the edge of Nik's large bed, his thick covers draped over my body. The door to the bathroom opened, bathing me in warm light and revealing Nikolai wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. His face darkened with the heat of a blush. I'd never seen him get embarrassed before.

"Um... sorry... I thought you were still asleep and I forgot to grab a change of clothing." He headed to the dresser, limping slightly. He grabbed a pair of boxers and jeans before returning to the bathroom. I didn't know how to respond to his chagrin.

The images of last night's attack came back in vivid color, distracting me from the man in the bathroom. I remembered it all: the feeling of satisfaction as I drove the table leg into my attacker's chest—I was astonishingly happy that he had been attacking me before I killed him—the fear when I saw my friends hurt after fighting for me, and the relief when it was all over. A moment later, Nik returned with the clothing on, but I took no notice of him; I was too deep in thought.

"Something on your mind?" he asked, sitting on the foot of the bed.

"How in the world did we survive that?"

Nik smirked. "You were a cunning warrior."

"Ha! Don't lie to me. I flailed around. It took me three tries to get his heart."

"All right, not exactly cunning, but lucky."

I smiled. "Yes, very lucky."

"It helped that he had orders to take you alive. He couldn't inflict much damage or he would have been killed by Richard. Wrangling a vamp is harder than killing one, so that gave you an advantage. And once Isaac saw that he had two of you to face—one of which he wasn't allowed to hurt—he bowed out, leaving Richard alone. This, of course, caused him to run. No doubt Isaac heard an earful about that."

I smiled at the thought. "Lucky," I repeated before climbing out of the large bed. I glanced at the place on the floor where I remembered falling asleep.

"I moved you when I woke up. You could have joined me on the bed. I wouldn't have noticed."

I felt the blood rush to my cheeks and wondered why I was so embarrassed. It's not like Nik would have been up to trying anything. Nevertheless, the idea of sharing a bed with him made my stomach give a little flip.

"Bathroom's all yours. I'll get you something else to wear," Nik said in what appeared to be an effort to change the subject. I was grateful.

I could only imagine what he might have that would fit me. Apparently nothing. Nik produced a pair of basketball shorts—with a drawstring—and a T-shirt he considered too small. I grimaced but willingly took the clothing. It was better than my blood-stained outfit.

After showering and dressing, I found the men sitting on the couches drinking their breakfast. They had already cleared away the rubble from the fight and cleaned up the dried blood. The only signs that there had been a fight were the two holes in the drywall and the lack of a kitchen table. I joined them on the couch and took the blood bag offered me while trying not to stare at the livid scar on Josh's throat—the only remaining scar on his once battered body. His face was bright with excitement.

"So what's the plan?" Josh asked as he tossed his bloody bag onto the coffee table.

"Well," Nik began as he gathered up Josh's bag before it could leak onto the rich wood. I noticed the faint shadow of a small shoe print on the table where I had stood. "We can either go digging into Ashley's past or we can go after the loot."

"Ooh, choices, choices, choices," I said, my sarcasm firmly back in place. To my surprise, they both laughed. For some reason, despite the epic battle we'd waged yesterday morning, the numerous somber discussions, and me trying to commit suicide; everyone's mood was lifted to an almost euphoric level. I glanced at both of them. "Let's deal with the treasure hunt. I don't really fancy a deep inspection into my backstory. But, at some point soon, could one of you teach me some basic fighting skills. I'm sensing it might be worthwhile... all things considered."

"How 'bout you just stay out of the fights, eh, light weight?" Nik suggested as he pinched the toes on the barefoot I had resting on his coffee table.

"How 'bout you keep us from getting into fights, and I won't need the skills to defend myself," I countered, ignoring the fact that it was really my fault. I stood up, not wanting him in a position to mess with my feet again.

"Are you saying yesterday's fight was my fault?"

Dammit, that's not what I had meant, but I didn't want to admit it. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Josh slip away.

"And if I am?" I asked to give myself more time to think. "The facts are one, we do battle." I ticked it off on my finger. "Two, you can't always protect me."

"I can certainly try."

I felt a sense of relief. I had diverted him from my own stupid mouth and the things that come out of it.

"But that's not the point. You think there is something I could have done to keep that fight from happening." It wasn't a question.

Double dammit. I hadn't distracted him as well as I had thought. My frustration with the situation was keeping me from thinking clearly. The smart thing to do would have been to apologize and drop the subject. I'm not always smart.

"Yes!" I roared. "Couldn't you have just shut the door in his face or something? Josh got really hurt."

"Oh... so you're worried about Josh now, eh?"

"Yeah. He's younger than you. He doesn't heal as fast."

"Don't repeat to me the things I've taught you."

"Then act like you know it!"

"There was nothing I could have done to stop the fight," he snarled through his teeth.

"Whatever," I growled back. "Now, are you going to teach me how to fight?"

Nik didn't even take a moment to think; he simply swung and punched me in the face. The blow flattened me. I landed on my back, the breath completely knocked out of my chest from the hard landing. My eyes blinked of their own accord, chasing away the tears that had sprouted.

"Here endeth the lesson," said Nik in a surprisingly accurate imitation of Sean Connery.

I blinked again, too shocked to respond quickly. "Seriously?" I finally snapped, my voice coming back in full force.

Nik nodded.

"Real helpful, jackass."

Evidently, my voice carried. I heard Josh's door open as I climbed to my feet. I glared at him as he sipped on another blood bag.

"He pull 'The Untouchables' on you?"

I nodded but stopped when a drunk percussionist took up residence behind the shiner quickly forming around my eye.

"Next time you won't let me hit you," grumbled Nik.

I was about to take a swing at him myself when Josh changed the subject.

"So, now that the lesson is clearly over, are we going to get moving?"

"Could we stop by my place?" I asked as I straightened the oversized T-shirt I was wearing.

On the way to my apartment, Nik dropped Josh off at Bayview Thriftway.

"You know what to get." Josh nodded. We zoomed away. As we neared the street, I spotted the last thing I ever wanted to see. Chloe and Jordan were in the parking lot, leaning against his car and flirting. I felt a hefty twinge of pain and regret. I'd never gone this long without seeing or talking to them. When was the last time I'd seen them? Tuesday night? Maybe it hadn't been that long, but it felt like a lifetime.

Would they want to see me now, now that I was a murderer?

Thankfully, Nik drove quickly and they didn't notice me staring at them. Though I missed them, I didn't want to talk to them. Not until I knew they would be safe in my company. It was a strange feeling—wanting yet dreading. I tried to picture our reunion and the image wasn't reassuring. Despite my best effort, the image always ended in blood and death.

Was this to be my life from now on? No. I wouldn't let that happen.

We arrived at my house and sped up the stairs. Nik went straight to the desk chair and sat down. I wondered if his ankle was bothering him still. Muffler flicked his tail at me and moved to Nik's lap. I dumped a fresh mound of food into his half empty bowl, hoping to make up for my absence.

"How nice of you to visit," the cat murmured.

"I'm sorry, Muffler."

I walked over to where Nik was sitting and started to stroke the gray cat. Muffler allowed me three strokes before moving to the desk, just out of my reach. I'd been rejected by my own cat—a new low. With a sigh, I moved to my dresser and pulled out one of the last clean T-shirts. Pretty soon I was going to have to tell the mystical world to take a day off. I needed to do laundry.

# Chapter Twenty-Two

After I got dressed, Nik drove us to the northern end of the docks, near Budd Bay Cafe. Yep, Olympia has docks. They're not that impressive, but plenty of rich folks need someplace to store their ocean-going treasures. Josh met us at one of the tall chain link gates that barred the way onto the narrow docks. Nik reached out to the padlock, gave it a squeeze, and tore it from the gate.

We trudged down the metal steps onto the wooden dock, which swayed slightly with the incoming tide. Though Olympia rests on the very tip of Budd Inlet, a branch of Puget Sound, it never smelled of sea water. No, Olympia just smelled like rotting mud. When the tide goes out, it doesn't leave behind spotless beaches but rather rolling piles of brown goo. It was such a well-known aspect of the Olympia culture that some organizations had sponsored races across the mudflats that produced nothing but a bit of money and a lot of dirty athletes. I never involved myself in these antics. I didn't like running—unless I was being chased.

Nik led us to the far end of the dock, where there were fewer boats. He glanced at Josh, who pulled out a battery-powered bug zapper, inserted the D batteries, and flipped it on. I watched as a few of the bugs flitting around the inlet zoomed for the pulsing purple device. They were instantly fried, sending off tiny wisps of smoke.

"Now what?" I asked as Josh set the bug zapper on the dock. Josh sat down, crossing his legs as if he were in kindergarten. Nik was already leaning against one of the concrete pillars that held the long wooden structure in place.

"We wait... quietly," he added for my benefit.

"What are waiting for?" I asked in a whisper.

"Fae. Now shut up."

I glowered at him as I pointedly took a seat next to Josh. I was still upset with Nik for his earlier statement concerning my involvement with his people's death and the whole punching me in the face thing. His snide remarks weren't helping. Nik seemed to be in an equally bad mood.

It wasn't a long wait. Just about the time I grew bored with watching bugs fly to their death, three little sparks of bluish-green light zipped into the pulsing purple device. The tiny glowing mote fell to the wooden dock, flickering as they responded to the assault of the bug zapper.

Nik and Josh pounced while I sat in awe of the wavering little lights. They slammed glass jars over the new arrivals—Nik capturing one, Josh the other two. With his hand still on the jar, Nik bent over it and peered inside. The light flashed brightly. I could almost read the cursing in the flashing light. Nik smiled, much like he did when I cursed at him.

"Will you stay and answer all my questions if I let you out?" he asked the captured lights. They flickered twice. Josh repeated the question ceremoniously and received the same response. Slowly, they both removed the glass jars. The tiny specks of light shimmered and grew until they were about the size of a rabbit. Suddenly I could see detail within the lights.

They were three little men with translucent wings. Tinkerbell's boyfriends! The first one wore a seashell on his arm like a shield while carrying a rusted pole with a tiny shark's tooth attached to the tip. His companions carried similar weapons. Their clothing was made of seaweed, with seashell armor over the top. Their skin held a strange bluish tint, fainter than the light around them.

"Thalassa," Nik said by way of a greeting.

The tiny man gave an epic bow in acknowledgment that nearly brought his forehead to his shins.

"We are looking for a collection of antiques that once belonged to Charles V. He was a human emperor." Boy, Nik was not one for pleasantries. "It included this breastplate made by Drake." He held up a picture of the Holy Roman Emperor in his Sunday-best.

"Ha!" squeaked the tiny man. "We was there!"

The other two fae echoed their leader's statement in shrill little voices, raising their tiny weapons with the chant. Thalassa's followers danced around in a little jig, their seashell armor clanking softly over the sound of the nearby boats bobbing in the water. They raised and lowered their weapons in time with their prancing feet while they quivered with excitement and chanted: "We was there!"

"You were where?" Nik demanded, cutting into their display of excitement.

"When the things is taken... when they is taken!"

"When was that?" I asked.

"Don't bother, they don't keep track of time the way we do," Nik said in an aside. "Who took it?"

"The man!" Thalassa's followers announced.

"A man? A human?"

"No, no! The queen's man!"

I frowned. I was totally lost. Josh didn't look any more knowledgeable.

"Which queen?"

"Orithyia," said Thalassa, waving his soldiers to be quiet. They did but continued to prance about in their strange, rhythmic dance. To my surprise, despite their gyrations, their tiny seashell armor ceased to clank. It looked as though someone had clicked mute on the remote.

"Orithyia's man stole from the Louvre Museum?" asked Nik, clearly putting the pieces together. Now that he had spelled it out, it made perfect sense.

"Orithyia?" I asked.

"Queen of the Winter Court," explained Josh.

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" the three tiny fae chanted together, their armor still bouncing silently with each prance.

"Would he still have the stuff?"

"Yes! Yes! Yes!"

"Who was the man?" Nikolai asked.

"The man! The man! The man!" They chanted with more stomping, each one taking turns jumping in the air while maintaining the beat of their dance.

"We're not getting anything more coherent out of them," Josh said.

"We hardly have enough to go by," Nik added. The small fae shrunk to the size of fireflies and flitted away. "What do we do next?"

"Why not go try the Internet?" I suggested.

"Why don't you leave the investigating to the adults," said Nik with a sneer.

Without giving it a second thought, I punched him in the face. Nik was in a squatting position and completely unprepared for my strike. My vamp-powered punch sent him flying off the dock and into the bay. He bobbed to the surface, a glare already in place.

"Here endeth the lesson!" I spat, not even trying a Sean Connery imitation. I sprinted down the dock and up the metal stairs, all the hurt and anger that had been slowly building since Nik first suggested I had been the cause of his people's death reaching its limit. And now, after a few days in his company, he had even more reason to want me dead.

"Go get her," I heard Nik say from the water. Josh caught up with me at the car.

"Don't mess with me, Josh," I demanded.

"Just want to make sure you weren't running again."

"I know better than that."

"I heard what Nik said to you yesterday... before the attack."

I grimaced.

"It's not true, you know," Josh added.

"Don't pander to me... " I trailed off. There was so much more I wanted to say but saying it wouldn't change anything. It wouldn't bring those people back; it wouldn't take away everything that had happened this week. I think I would have spilled my guts to Josh, but before I could figure out what to say, Nik appeared, dripping wet.

To say he looked angry would be like saying a nuke goes boom.

"Get in the car," Nik snapped, his Russian accent peeking through his careful façade and garbling his words. I was beginning to recognize it as a sign. The only time he failed to hide the language of his origin was when he was fuming mad. Nik jerked the driver side door open and squeaked his way onto the leather seat. I silently obeyed, knowing there was no point in being obstinate with a three-hundred-plus-year-old vamp who could wipe the floor with me. I heard Josh take his place in the back seat.

"I think..." began Josh in a pensive voice. "Ashley might be on to something."

"What?" snapped Nik, slamming his foot down on the accelerator with his question.

"If you were actually in sync with this generation, you'd know the Internet is full of information," I taunted.

"What can the Internet tell us that we don't already know? The loot was at the Louvre then it got stolen."

"We won't know until we look," Josh, the only calm person in the car, pointed out.

Nikolai glared at me for a moment, the car continuing to screech away from the docks.

"Fine."

We continued at his usual, crazy speed out of town. I eventually realized where he was taking us—his mansion. The memory of what I had done there, and what had happened despite my efforts, came rushing back. Though we had been attacked many times since the initial werewolf invasion, it was the event that had started all our troubles. It was then that my involvement in people's lives started causing them pain, death even. I tried not to imagine what I honestly expected to see—blood and rotting bodies. The worst part of all my imaginings was that I suddenly felt very thirsty. Gore didn't used to give me a craving; usually, a commercial for Taco Bell was enough.

Nik parked the car in such a sudden stop that I was thrown against the seat belt. Had I been human, I would have endured whiplash. Before the engine could begin ticking, he was out of the car and opening the front door of his mansion. Josh and I followed a bit more slowly. We found Nik in his enormous living room, drinking straight from a large bottle of brown liquor. To my astonishment, the large room that was most of the main floor had been cleaned. There wasn't a trace of the bloody skirmish. The carpets were clean, the smashed furniture either repaired or replaced, and the window had new glass installed. Evidently, the seethe had fast-working repairmen on standby.

"Get her started on this fool's errand. I'm going to change," he added, setting the bottle on the small table and sweeping out of the room, his wet shoes making a sloshing noise that ruined the effect of his dramatic exit.

# Chapter Twenty-Three

Josh and I watched Nik storm out of the room, leaving a trail of wet footprints. I struggled not to laugh. One glance at Josh showed he was having the same problem.

"Fool's errand, eh?" I asked in an almost nonchalant tone. Josh didn't really buy it. He let his small grin grow into a large, dimpled smile.

"C'mon."

Josh led me up to Nik's study. It too had been cleaned from the blood splatter on both door and carpet. Did he have little fairy cleaners? If so, I had to get me some. I went to Nik's enormous desk and flipped open his very thin and fancy-looking laptop. He had very fast Internet. It would have made Bill Gates weep with joy.

I began my search while Josh went downstairs to get us something to eat and drink. To my surprise, he not only brought back blood, but also potato chips. When was the last time I'd eaten human food? That ill-fated date with Isaac? Seafood. At least my last meal had been a good one. I watched Josh as he crumpled a few chips into his tall glass of blood.

"Makes it more salty and chunky," he explained with a glint in his eyes.

"I think I'll pass," I said as I grabbed a chip and popped it into my mouth. It was good; the blood was better. Gosh, _that's annoying,_ I thought as I scrolled through my search results.

Just when I was beginning to lose hope, I stumbled upon an article about the original break-in. As I neared the end of the article, Nik joined us, dressed in non-sea-smelling clothing. He glowered at me before turning his gaze on Josh. Evidently, it was a hint... or a command, because Josh quickly found a reason to leave.

Nik glared at me in silence for a few seconds, his arms twined across his strong chest. A tiny trickle of fear ran down my spine. Was he really that angry that I punched him and caused him to fall into the ocean? I was just about to speak when he prowled around the desk and lifted me by the shoulders. I dangled half a foot from the ground.

A new kind of fear tightened around my stomach. I swallowed while the fear pressed up against my lungs, making it hard to breathe. His lips compressed into a scowl, while his green eyes slowly began to glow with his barely controlled fury. I felt his hands shake as they held me up.

"Don't you ever strike me again," he stated, pronouncing each word carefully.

"Or what?" I asked stupidly. "I'm not your minion to control. Nor am I your friend."

I spotted a brief glimmer of pain in his green eyes. A second later it was gone, so quickly I almost doubted I'd seen it. It was easier, more comfortable, to believe he hated me like I hated him.

He set me down.

"You need to learn respect, child."

"Respect? Did you respect me when you suggested killing me, or when you made your feeling oh so clear? The pipsqueak who got your people killed," I snapped.

"I didn't mean that."

"Oh yes, you did!"

"You said you sometimes say things before you think. I do that too. My mouth got away from me."

"That doesn't mean you don't feel that way! Those slips, where you don't think, are when your true thoughts and feelings come out."

"Fine. You want to know my true feelings? Here they are. I blame Isaac for turning you. I blame Josh for finding you. I blame Mikhail for dumping you on me. And I blame you for being so damn obstinate that you can't let things go. But the fact is I'm stuck with you.

"And as much as I want to dump you in Richard's lap, I know that would be a mistake. I can't just give him what he wants. I can't screw over humanity like that. As much as I might like to, I still know right from wrong. And it would be wrong for me to give into his schemes. So how about this: you start obeying me and I won't have any reason to kill you myself." He paused. "Now, have you found anything?"

I swallowed the lump forming in my throat and willed myself not to cry. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. "Yes," I said in the firmest voice I could manage. It was little more than a whisper. I noticed Nik's eyes soften slightly before he turned his gaze the computer, gently nudging me out of the way. He scrolled down to the bottom of the article where a picture of a man caught briefly on a security camera was wedged into the text.

"It can't be," breathed Nik.

"What?" I asked, the new subject providing a great distraction from my own emotions. I leaned over his shoulder to have a better look at the picture. Though it was in grayscale and very pixilated, I could make out the man's basic features, which included an eye patch—kinda like a pirate. Weird. "A one-eyed thief?"

"He's not missing an eye. The eye patch is named Gyges. It was made by Hephaestus. It makes the wearer invisible to the human eye, but not too modern technology, it would seem." Nik waved his hand toward the grainy image.

"So who is that?"

"If I'm not mistaken, and I rarely am, that is Periphetes, son of Hephaestus."

"Who?"

"A fae lord in the Winter Court... though I believe he has been out of Orithyia's good graces for many years, even decades. He's a thief. A damn good one. Periphetes could steal an entire collection from the Louvre and not get caught." Nik fell silent as he reread the article, pointing out key factors, such as the sudden and unexplainable failure of their advanced security systems. Evidently, this was the only picture captured by the cameras before the system went kaput.

"So does this mean the Winter Court has it?"

"I don't think so. Periphetes is a renegade. I've never known him to abide by the rules, especially Orithyia's."

"But what if this stuff was the ticket to his reconciliation with Orithyia?"

"Then he would have returned to the court by now and I would have heard about it," said Nik in a tone that suggested I was very dense for not getting it. "Besides, Orithyia is not a very forgiving queen. One of the main reasons she's stayed in power for so long."

"What do you mean?"

"The queen's position is not passed on generationally. In fact, it's not always a queen. The leader of each fae court is based on whoever takes over. But Orithyia has been the Winter Queen for as long as I've been a vampire. Longer in fact."

Nik scrolled through the article one last time.

"Not a fool's errand after all," I said with a wave of my hand toward the computer screen. I tried to drag the words back down my throat. For once, I didn't want to fight with Nik.

"Don't get cocky."

"Ha! Says the king of cocky."

"Let's go get Josh and move on."

"Wait... move on? What's your plan?"

"Steal it from Periphetes, of course."

"You want to piss off a lord of the Winter Court when they're already trying to take me?"

"I am honor-bound to get these things for Emma, not to mention Mikhail's expectations. Once I get her off our backs, we can take care of your issue... ssss," he hissed, adding the plural at the last second. "This would all be easier if Mikhail would just let me leave you at the seethe. Besides, I doubt Periphetes would tell his queen that we stole from him; he'd be too ashamed of a mere vamp getting the best of him."

"I don't think this is a good idea."

"I didn't ask you."

"You never do!"

"And for good reason."

I felt another fight coming on, despite my efforts. I still had a knot in my stomach from our last argument. He looked up at me. With him sitting at his desk, I was barely taller than him.

"For good reason?" I asked. "Wasn't the whole Internet idea a pretty good one? And yet you still consider me nothing but baggage."

"Now you're putting words in my mouth."

"And yet they ring so true."

"You have got to be... the... most..."

"Most what? Beautiful and intelligent woman you've ever met? Yes, I agree!" I stated, trying to keep the discussion from turning into anything too nasty.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves!"

"Well, you accused me of putting words in your mouth; seemed like a good idea."

"I was thinking more like the most annoying, pig-headed child I've ever met!"

"Pig headed... me? Look who's talking."

Before he could respond, a soft cough reverberated from the doorway. We both tore our eyes away from each other and glared at Josh.

# Chapter Twenty-Four

Nik and I stared at Josh with equal annoyance written on our features. We had just been in the middle of... something before Josh intruded.

"If I'm not interrupting anything too important... "

"No, nothing important," sighed Nik, taking a step away. I suddenly realized we had been standing too close for comfort. I backed away too.

"You know it's not polite to eavesdrop," I smirked at Josh.

Josh rolled his eyes. "Then try not having your 'cough' arguments within the same state as anyone."

"What do you mean by 'cough' argument?" I asked, feeling the need to be affronted.

"Nothing, he doesn't mean a thing," said Nik. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Nik give Josh a look that was clearly intended to convey a message. What was going on? And they say women are confusing. "Let's get going," Nik added.

"Wait! Am I the only one who thinks this is an insane idea?"

"No," said Josh. "I'm not thrilled with attacking a fae lord myself."

"Look, compared to the Louvre, his house will be easy to steal from. His magic keeps him from being able to use any form of electronic security systems. We just have to... you know... be quiet. Besides, we have Josh."

"Josh... really? He's your secret weapon."

"Oh, shut up!" Nik snapped.

Half an hour later we were in one of his cars and heading toward Seattle. Evidently, Periphetes lived in a historic house in the posh Queen Anne District of the Rainy City. I sat in the back, flipping through our notes from the library, trying to memorize what it was we needed to take. I didn't want to get caught simply because we had trouble recognizing the loot. We were looking for a breastplate, a dagger, a few silver bracelets, a book, a helmet, and a codpiece.

By the time we started winding our way up the hill near the fae's home, I was growing nervous about the time. At five in the morning, the night sky was still pitch black, but I didn't know how long that would last or how dense the clouds would be when the sun did rise. I voiced my concerns to Nik, who scoffed at them.

Typical.

We parked a block away and slunk toward the house—ducking below dripping trees and rhododendron bushes. It was a beautiful brick building from the 1930s, with old windows and what looked like a tower. We worked our way through the shrubbery and around to a side door. To my surprise, Nik simply grabbed the door handle, turned it with his vampire strength, and snapped the lock. He silently pushed the door open and stepped through.

Josh and I hesitated.

"Umm..." murmured Josh.

"How do we know he's not home?" I asked before Josh could get to his point. I sensed he had been about to ask the same question.

"I checked," said Nik. "There is a charity ball being held in New York. 'The Bouncing Ball,' I believe it's called. Some charity to raise money for children in foster care. All the bigwigs of New York will be there."

"And we know he'll be gone why?" Josh asked. I was glad to see he was just as confused as I was. Had he not spoke first, I would have asked.

"Periphetes is a jewel thief. Everyone there will be wearing their best stuff. He goes and spends a week snatching the jewels he saw at the ball. Periphetes won't miss this opportunity. He's not home."

"You mean he's going to rob a whole bunch of people who are helping children in foster homes?" I asked, shocked and disgusted.

"Cause those people are there to help children," chided Nik. I could almost see the sarcasm dripping from his lips. "Those people are there to be seen, nothing more."

I shrugged and followed him. Call me a fool; I just kept hoping to find something worth redeeming in humanity. It was getting harder and harder.

I wanted to ask him why this was turning out so easy—surely the fae would have some sort of protection—when the floor suddenly coated itself with a layer of fine, slick ice. We all went down with a muffled thud. Sadly, being a vampire does not stop things like falling on ice from hurting. The men tried to work their way back to their feet, both of them slipping and ending up in painful positions. I, on the other hand, stayed on my bum and scooted to the nearest piece of solid looking furniture, which had been embedded in the ice. I used the armchair to keep myself from falling over as I climbed to my feet. I gave Nik a meaningful glower while he copied my strategy. It said _Really? Stealing my ideas? A little better than baggage?_

I wasn't sure if he got all of that.

To my frustration, we discovered the entire house was coated in ice. This was only an annoyance until we reached the stairs. As we began our slippery climb, a driving gust of freezing wind tore down the narrow passage. It pushed me off my feet, and I slipped a few steps down before I could grab onto—the delicate looking, hand carved railing.

Josh and Nik were doing the same thing in front of me, but it was less than useful. The railing suddenly sprouted thousands of tiny spikes, like the world's coldest rose bush. Each of us let go with a yelp of pain and scrambled for a new hand hold—which turned out to be the chair molding running up the length of the wall on the other side of the steps. Our hands dripped dark red onto the ice, which rolled and bubbled as if excited by the taste of our blood.

The wind shifted, suddenly raging up from below us. It pushed me toward the next step until I fell over. I gripped the stairs to keep from being dragged up them. Just when I felt my fingers slipping on the smooth ice, the wind shifted again. With the power coming from above us, we were sent careening down the narrow stairs to land in a pile at the base.

The magical wind didn't let up as we disentangled our limbs. While we attempted our second ascent, the gale was joined by hail, and not the cute, tiny stuff either. Balls of ice the size of rolled up socks came whizzing toward us. While Nik and I continued to climb up the stairs, our bodies being pummeled by the new onslaught, Josh disappeared.

A few minutes and a thousand balls of icy death later, a bloodied Josh appeared at the top of the staircase. Carefully staying out of the supernatural tunnel of driving wind, he tossed what looked like a bed sheet down to us. Nik pushed it into my hands, while somehow keeping a grip on the molding. I held on for dear life while flattening myself against the frigid steps. Josh pulled me up and out of the wind. He threw the sheet back to Nik, and we both heaved him up. As Nik climbed to his feet, the wind died down. By the time we all stood in the upstairs hall, we were each feeding the living ice our blood, but the wounds were quickly healing.

"What the hell was that?" I whispered. Nik made a shushing motion while giving Josh a once over. Though he had been skewered through the shoulder, he seemed to be in one piece. Nik glanced around and motioned for us to follow him. How in the world had Josh made it to the second story, and why hadn't we used his route? I was about to demand an answer, but after one look at Nik's fierce glare, I clamped my mouth shut.

After a few slippery turns, we found ourselves in a long room with a fireplace at the end. Sitting atop the fireplace were the dagger, bracelets, breastplate, helmet and book, all encased in their own special glass displays. The codpiece was, thankfully, missing.

Nik motioned for us to stay put before stepping into the room. Without warning, spikes of ice shot up from the floor, barely missing Nik. He leaped into the air and landed on the sofa. With it as a fluffy shield, he made it halfway across the room before he had to jump to a nearby chair. While in the air, spikes of ice shot up, grazing his leg and sending him floundering to the ground. New thorns sprouted from his body. He cried out, the first time I'd heard him give voice to any sort of pain. Without giving it a second thought, I jumped forward, with my new strength and landed on the couch. I ran toward him, my feet sinking into the cushions and forcing me to run in a strange, mincing gait. I felt awkward and had no doubt that had the situation slightly less brutal, Josh would be laughing at me.

At the other end, I reached for Nik, careful to keep as much of me over the couch as possible. I grabbed his foot and pulled him to the couch, breaking the giant icicles that still impaled his body. He groaned but didn't fight me. I got him back onto the couch with only one long gash. It bled profusely, but I ignored it for the bigger issue—the three spikes sticking out of Nik's body. With a hand placed around one of the three ice skewers, I gave it a firm yank, pulling it from his flesh. He jerked, nearly sending his leg off the shielding couch. I got the other two shafts out of his body before turning back toward the artifacts, leaving him to rest. Nik reached forward and grabbed my arm in a gesture I knew a human could manage; it was much slower than his normal movement. His gentle yank was enough to cause me to lose my balance and topple onto his chest. He grimaced. I felt his hot blood soaking into my shirt.

"I got it. You stay put," I whispered. "Josh, watch our backs," I added in a louder tone, though it wasn't necessary. Josh turned to watch the hallway and staircase.

"No," he groaned. "You'll... "

"Shut up," I interrupted as I pushed myself carefully off his chest, prying his surprisingly weak hand from my arm. Well, three ice picks driven into your body will do that I guess.

Instead of jumping, I rocked myself against the thick armrest, effectively shifting the couch a few inches in the direction of the fireplace. I felt the impact of ice hitting the bottom of the couch. So it was activated by motion, eh? The realization wasn't that helpful. I couldn't get the artifacts by holding still.

I had managed to get the couch half way across the empty space with only damage done to the furniture when the ice coating the floor began writhing up the wall. I glance to my left and right, suddenly concerned about what might be thrown at us next. I had no idea how literal I was being until thin icicles shot from the walls. I ducked the first couple, but the fourth one sliced me across the back. I jerked in response and nearly fell from the couch. A new spike shot up from the thin layer of ice still left on the floor. It grazed my cheek and gave me the needed fright to scramble back into place in record time. I grabbed one of the throw pillows, decorated in snowflakes, and used it as a shield while ducking behind the backing of the couch.

Each time I moved, more icicles flew across the room and clanked against the opposite wall. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw one melt and then meld into the floor. I returned to my rocking motion, being sure to keep my head below the back of the couch. This hampered my ability to shift the couch, but eventually, I made it. The couch bumped into the hearth. I glanced at the throw pillow. It had been skewered by more icicles than I could count in a glance.

I reached up to lift the glass box off of the book, only to discover it wasn't a glass box at all. It was a large piece of perfectly clear ice with the book embedded in it. The block of ice was part of the ice coating the rest of the room. I couldn't pry it off.

"Josh, you got a lighter?" I asked.

Before I could turn to look at him, a small silver item bounced off the wall. I reached out, barely catching it before it could clatter to the floor. It was a fancy Zippo. I flicked it on and held it against the base of the enormous ice cube. To my complete astonishment, the ice hissed and melted quickly. What with magical icicles being flung at me by an interior wall, I wasn't sure the ice could be melted with fire. After maybe thirty seconds of sizzle, I yanked the cube off the ledge and dropped it onto the couch. Though the icicles continued to fling themselves at me, they seemed to fall short. I glanced at the zippo in my hand. Why hadn't we just lit the whole house on fire? I wondered as I pressed the flame against the next cube.

One by one, I got the enormous ice cubes off the mantle and wedged them wherever they could fit on the couch. The block holding the breastplate would have crushed human Ashley under the weight of it, but with a few unladylike grunts and my burgeoning vampire strength, I was able to move it.

At this point, Nik and I had to switch spots. I could only imagine what Josh must have been thinking as we carefully executed the maneuver, while Nik bled and I tried to keep neither of us from getting punctured again. Once I was on the other end of the couch, I repeated the rocking motion to make the couch slide across the ice covered floor while keeping the handy Zippo lit. It was difficult to do all this and not light the couch on fire. At the doorway, I tossed Josh the blocks of ice and jumped clear. With some difficulty, Nik was able to follow me. The holes in his side, shoulder, and leg were healing themselves slowly, though I knew he needed blood to speed up the process.

Josh led us to a second story window that faced out onto the street, each of us carrying at least one frozen antique. It turned out we were in part of the tower. Thick vines grew up to the wanna-be-deck. It was one of those tiny things that were more for appearances, with a sturdy railing but less than half of foot of depth. I helped Nik over the railing and made sure he was going to make it down the vines covering the outer wall before I started the climb. As I pulled myself over the railing, an enormous gale surged up, thumping me into the metal handrail. Josh grunted next to me. He was straddling the railing. I managed to glance down at Nik before the gale brought on whiteout conditions. The thick snow pelted me from all angles as the storm settled over the house. I couldn't see my own hands in front of my face. For what felt like half a lifetime, I hung from the side of the fae's house, too frozen with fear to move.

Finally, I reached down, seeking a new grip. My fingers touched something cold, smooth, and roughly in the shape of a leaf. The way down was coated in a thin sheet of ice. I thought about jumping but worried I'd hit Nik's battered body. From my perch, I heard faint voices calling to me. Finally, out of desperation, I began climbing down, slipping most of the way. The distance seemed to grow with each groping reach. The foot and hand holds were beginning to fill with more ice, making the blind descent all the more difficult.

Just when I began to consider jumping again, I slipped, falling until my butt landed on the snow-covered ground. I looked around, but between the blizzard continuing to gust past me and the snowflakes caked to my eyelashes, I couldn't see a thing. I got onto my hands and knees and started crawling away from the building, hoping the storm would not follow my retreat.

Slowly, as I gained some distance from the enchanted house, I stumbled upon Nik. He was lying on his side, a thick layer of snow covering his bleeding body. Though awake, I doubted I had long before he would become unconscious. I got him to his feet and helped him shuffle toward the thinning side of the storm. At the edge, and I mean edge, of the blizzard, Josh stood with his two blocks of ice tucked under his arms. When he spotted us, he turned toward the car. I helped Nik down the street and into the back seat. We piled the antiques into the trunk and locked it. I glanced back at the house only once. It was still surrounded by a very small, but fierce, blizzard. I wondered what the neighbors would think of the sudden snow covering only that house.

# Chapter Twenty-Five

I climbed into the back seat after Nik, too tired to walk around to the passenger door. I felt exhausted and knew only part of it was due to the recent adventure. I glanced out the window at the dark gray clouds. The sun was near the horizon, though not visible through the Seattle weather.

"Where are we going?" I asked as we reached the bottom of the hill and turned onto a road that wound along the edge of Lake Union.

"I don't think we should risk driving all the way back to Olympia. We'll get a motel and wait the day out before driving back," replied Josh. I had never seen him in the position of leadership. He did it well.

"What about Nik? He needs blood." As if on cue, Nik slumped toward me, resting his head on my lap. I checked his wounds which were oozing all over the leather seats.

"We'll figure that out once we're safe."

Josh drove us south on I-5 all the way to SeaTac, where he stopped at a Motel 6. It turned out Josh drove just like Nik—really fast. Or maybe it was just the danger of the situation. When we reached the motel, both Josh and I were visibly fading. Nik, on the other hand, was completely unconscious. The clock on the dash read 7:49 am. No wonder we felt awful.

While I checked on Nik's wounds, Josh pulled on a blood-free jacket clearly belonging to Nik and scurried into the office to book us a room. The holes puncturing Nik's body were continuing to heal, but at a far slower rate than I'd seen the previous morning. He didn't even wake when I poked and prodded the edges of the gaping holes. I expected to grow nauseous as I peered closely at the gore of it all. Instead, I felt the thirst rise up inside me.

I pressed my lips together and pulled away from him and his blood. Josh approached. From the trunk, he pulled out a blanket. We draped it over Nik before pulling him from the backseat. He stayed unconscious as Josh carefully lifted him off his feet. We tried to stay inconspicuous since the parking lot was not exactly empty. Other visitors were loading their suitcases into their trunks or climbing onto the bus that would take them to the nearby airport. It's difficult to act casually when a five foot nothing man is carrying a six foot something bundle of blankets. Nearly everybody took at least one good look at us.

I frantically shoved the plastic card into the slot and yanked the door open. Though we could have easily broken into one of the many rooms, I was glad we were abiding by the law. Josh dumped Nik on the bed and collapsed himself. I suddenly felt guilty, having forgotten about Josh's own wounds. I should have been the one carrying Nik into the motel room, but that would have drawn even more unwanted attention.

Though I handled the blood and pain at Nik's apartment, I suddenly panicked. Here in a motel room, with Nik unconscious, I realized I had no idea what to do. I doubted Motel 6 stocked A Positive in their mini bar. But they needed blood. I tried to ask Josh, but he had already drifted off. I inspected the hole in his shoulder. As expected, it was healing nearly human slow. I wondered if either of them would be able to drive us home. I cringed at the idea of driving the sports car we had taken. I should call Mikhail! I thought about it more.

Maybe I'd keep that as a last resort.

I went to check on Nik. He stirred slightly. I chose to wake him, or at least try. After a few gentle shakes, his eyes fluttered open. He glanced around the room, comprehension not coming to his green eyes.

"Where are we?" he asked in a hoarse whisper.

"Motel. The sun just rose. What can I do?"

"Blood."

"We haven't got any."

His eyes began to flutter and close. I shook him again. When he forced his eyes opened, he repeated himself. "Blood."

"He needs blood," Josh said from his spot on the floor near the doorway. He reached up and flipped the deadbolt—something I had forgotten to do.

"But we don't have any. What do you expect me to do... conjure some?" I asked, glancing around the tidy but plain room.

"There are humans all over this place. Grab one," Josh added as he slowly pushed himself off the floor.

"You're joking right?"

"He needs blood. We all do."

"You're not going to die. You can wait until nightfall," I argued. I hoped it was a truthful statement. I felt blood oozing down my back from what I imagined was the largest of my wounds. It made my whole spine throb. "When night falls I'll drive you two home."

"And if we get attacked?" Josh asked, motioning in the general direction of the car. "We did just steal from a fae lord after all. Do you really think you can defend us from Periphetes?"

I swallowed, knowing the answers to his questions.

"We have to drink," whispered Nik from the bed. I wanted to help them; they were my friends after all... well, Josh was. And I was thirsty. Horribly so. I hated leaving both of them in pain, but I couldn't willingly take a human life. I shook my head, my resolution staying firm—probably because there was no actual temptation in the room. Their blood, though pleasant smelling, wasn't enough to make me lose control.

For the first time, Josh gave me a withering glare. He turned from me, unlocked the door, and slipped out into the gray light. Our room was positioned so that the walkway was well shaded by the building from what sunlight managed to pierce the thick cloud cover.

What was he doing? I almost went after him, but even wounded, Josh was older and stronger than me. Besides, rousing attention was the last thing I ought to do, and he had a jacket to cover his wound. I knew what happened to those who drew attention to our existence.

A moment later, Josh returned with a young man dressed in slacks and a suit jacket that didn't quite match. The man carried a briefcase and glanced around the room in a business-like manner. When he spotted Nik bleeding on the bed, his brown eyes widened and he tried to back out, but Josh stood in his way. The short vampire finished closing the door and flipped the deadbolt. The businessman flinched at the soft thud and moved as though he were planning on shoving Josh out of the way, but Josh was faster. He grabbed the man by the arm and twisted it behind his back. For the first time, the businessman let out a noise of shock and pain.

Josh pushed him toward Nik, forcing the man's arm over Nik's face. The older vamp's eyes widened and he clamped his mouth over the man's hairy wrist. The businessman gave a gurgle of surprise and tried to pull free, but Josh was there, already pushing the collar of his suit jacket out of his way. Before their food could begin to truly fight back, Josh had sunk his own teeth into the man's neck.

The smell of blood filled the room, masking the scent of cigarette smoke emanating from the man's suit, reminding me that I too was very hungry. I pushed the thought down, forcing myself to take slow breaths through my mouth. When this wasn't enough, I ran into the tiny bathroom and shut the door. I turned the water on cold in the bathtub and climbed in, fully dressed.

The frigid water helped shock my brain back into sanity. I continued to breathe through my mouth as I splashed water on my face. As my mind continue to clear, I relaxed into the cold water until only my head poked out the top. When the water was starting to lap against the emergency drain, I used my foot to push the nozzle down.

There were no sounds from the bedroom. No doubt the men were resting after their meal. I cringed at the thought.

How could they?

I hesitated, my eyes suddenly burning with what I expected would soon be tears. Despite everything I had seen, I had allowed myself to believe Nik and Josh never killed people. Though I never deluded myself into thinking all vampires survived on blood bags, I had hoped at least my friends would value human life.

The tears began streaming down my cheeks and mixing in with my cold bath water. I didn't try to stop them or wipe them away. I didn't just cry for the loss of the stranger's life, but for the part of me that was dying. I had always considered myself an ethical person, but what had I just done? Nothing. And that was the problem. What was the quote everyone spouts when faced with moral dilemmas? "Only thing evil men need is for good men to do nothing... " or something like that. I was now part of those supposedly "good" people. I let them do what I knew to be wrong, and a man had died as the result.

I felt worse for this than I had after killing a woman myself. It slowly dawned on me that last time I had not exactly been myself and, though I felt remorse, it didn't feel like my crime. What few memories I had of attacking the woman in the alley were only strange details, like the taste of her suit before the blood began to flow. I couldn't even picture her face.

In the present instance, I was fully aware of myself, or at least, conscious enough to know what was happening was wrong. I could completely imagine what the businessman had looked like as the panic set in. There was no excuse for my actions or lack of actions.

The worst part of it all was that a part of my mind understood their reasoning. If we were attacked by the fae or any other sort of mystical being, I would be a sad last defense. Without my bodyguards, I was pretty much helpless—baggage, as Nik had put it.

We all have these moments when we fail to maintain our moral standing. It's just that most of us do it by telling a lie or failing to tell the banker he gave you an extra twenty. So few people stop to consider what their ethics would be after murdering someone.

I remembered my father always saying my morals were all I had to call my own. Boy, how I had failed him. I'm sure he had never imagined his baby girl becoming a murderer, something he would fear, something that would crave his death.

And so I let the tears fall freely down my cheeks.

# Chapter Twenty-Six

Sometime in the middle of my crying spree, I fell asleep. Thankfully, my head stayed above the water. Though it might not have really been a problem, as I was already dead. I woke to the sound of splashing. My eyes slowly opened to find a shirtless Nik leaning against the counter and cleaning his own blood off his now healthy chest. The once white hotel rag was a soft pink, despite his attempts at rinsing it out.

"Your water's gone cold," he said, his eyes flickering to my dark pink bath.

"It was never warm." My fingers weren't wrinkled, but they had been resting out of the water, so I couldn't tell how long I'd been asleep. Then again, Nik was completely healed so it must have been some hours.

"Your leg hasn't healed," he announced, reaching down into the murky water and lifting my left leg out. I had thought the pink color of the water came from his blood that had been transferred to my clothes. It never occurred to me that my leg was in need of treatment. Sure enough, the gash from a thrusting spike of ice was far from healed. It dripped pink water for a few seconds before the darker blood took over.

"My back is probably worse," I commented in an apathetic voice. Despite the sleep, I felt drained of all energy, almost as though I was drugged. My limbs felt disconnected as if Nik could detach them and fling them across the room without me noticing.

"You should have drunk some blood."

"What... from that man you killed?" I scoffed. A small part of me hoped he would indicate that the man was not dead. Nik's silence told me just how ridiculous that hope was.

"You need blood to heal quickly. It's a basic fact of your existence."

"Then I'll heal slowly," I said in a firm voice. It would have been more impressive had I not shivered at that moment. "I've already killed enough people to last a few lifetimes."

Nik reached back into the water and pulled the plug as he took a seat on the edge of the tub. We sat in silence, except for the sound of the water gurgling down the pipes, while Nik tore away the leg of my ripped jeans. He removed my sodden shoes and tossed them into the sink. I suddenly realized I had no dry clothing to wear back to Olympia. This was going to be an uncomfortable drive.

Before taking the strips of his shirt to the sink, Nik began refilling the tub with hot water. It felt good. It would have been better had I not been wearing clothing, but I wasn't about to disrobe in front of Nik if I could help it. He cleaned the strips of fabric and laid them over the counter to dry.

"When you've warmed back up, I'll bandage the leg and check your back. We'll be able to leave in a few hours. Hopefully, by then, your wounds will be healed enough that you won't slow us down," he added as he reached for the door.

"Slow you down? Is that all you think about? Battle tactics?"

"When I'm at war."

"War? We're not at war. That man died simply so you could be ready to fight a fae you pissed off. Had you just stood up to Emma and told her 'no,' that man might still be alive."

"That is not the way this world works. Unlike humans, we pride ourselves in honoring our promises."

"That doesn't change the fact that a man died so some prick of a princess could have a conversation starter!"

"Wrong. That man died so that I could keep you safe," he snapped, the door to the bathroom forgotten.

"Oh... so this is my fault?"

Nik sighed, rubbing his palm against his face. "No." He paused for a long time. "Please don't assume I like killing. But I am able to make the hard choices. I chose to save you."

With this final statement, he left the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

I jammed the water off, released the plug and stood up, a sudden deluge falling from my clothing. Once the dripping had slowed, I began taking my clothing off and hanging them from the shower curtain railing. Thankfully there was one of those tiny blow dryers attached the wall. After wringing out my undergarments, I used it to dry them. By this time, my clothing had completely stopped dripping. This didn't mean they were dry; not by a long shot. I spent the next hour blow drying my clothing to a point of clammy uncomfortableness. It was an awkward process, and I was glad no one could see me trying to stretch the cord to the bathtub, where I stood to keep blood from leaving a stain on the floor.

Just as I was beginning to pull my jeans back on, one leg half missing, a soft knock resounded on the door. I called for Nik to enter, knowing it was him by the impatient sounds coming from the other room. I finished buttoning my jeans. My shirt was still off, but it would have to be for him to bandage the gash across my spine. Besides, my sports bra was pretty concealing. Nik entered and worked to keep a smirk off his face as he examined me still standing in the bathtub, blood oozing from my different wounds. The only one that had stopped thus far was the minor cut across my cheek.

"Ready?" he asked in a frosty tone. I did my best to ignore him while turning around to show him my back. He moved quickly to keep the descending blood from reaching the waistline of my jeans, not that it mattered. These jeans were going into the garbage when we got home. He used a folded strip of cloth to form the thick part of the bandage and used another to tie it into place.

Once finished, I stepped out of the tub. I tried not to wince as I hoisted myself onto the countertop, but I'm sure he noticed. Oh well. I'd heard his unconscious moaning after the icicles to the chest; what did I care if he knew my leg and back hurt? At least I could handle it myself instead of taking an innocent life to dull my pain.

Nik used the remaining strips of the shirt and tied them tightly around the deep gash. I winced and tried to pull my leg free. He didn't go out of the way to be gentle. When finished, he left without another word, clearly not over our last fight.

When I limped back into the main room, Josh was already gone, presumably to deal with the body.

"Ready to go?" Nik asked.

I nodded.

Nik led me back to the car where we met Josh. As we pulled out of the parking lot, I was surprised to see smoke billowing out of the room next to ours. I didn't ask. Naturally, they would want to hide the evidence, and what better disguise than a businessman smoking in bed.

# Chapter Twenty-Seven

We drove straight to The Viewer's Lounge, the restaurant used as the front for the seethe. One of the bouncers jumped out to take Nik's keys and park the car. Another ran around the side of the car to let me out, his free hand holding up a large umbrella. Umbrellas are not common sights around Olympia despite the continual moisture falling from the sky. Most people residing in Western Washington simply grew gills and flippers. It's easier that way. Nonetheless, I was thankful. My clothing had just reached the point of what I might call dry.

I allowed him to escort me to the door of the restaurant with Nik and Josh following. I wondered if I would receive this treatment if I wasn't with Nik. Doubt it. The car zoomed off toward some unknown parking lot while we entered the restaurant, the evening guests chatting quietly while their eyes occasionally flickered toward the enormous screen. Being Saturday night, it was packed with eaters and drinkers alike. Like the food, I had heard they served wonderful beverages—the kind that make you want to hug everyone in sight.

I held my breath, knowing full well just how hungry I was. I couldn't remember the last time I'd had any blood. I tried not to think about it. Instead, I practiced reciting the basic list of prepositions in my head as a distraction. It didn't work very well. Really, all it did was remind me how long it had been since high school. I got to "before" and gave up.

As we neared the partition a woman in a skimpy red dress bumped into me. She smiled drunkenly and tried to apologize. From this short distance, I could hear her heartbeat. My teeth descended faster than ever before. There was no slow building toward the breaking point. I was vaguely in control and then I was not. Simple as that.

I grabbed her and began to pull her next to my waiting mouth when Nik jumped forward and spun her toward the nearest table and out of my tight grasp. Josh held me by the waist as I tried to hold on to her arm and dragged me behind the partition. I'm sure I had left bruises on her pale arms. Josh pushed me through the door. A second later Nik was following us down the steps.

I didn't want to ask, but I had to know. "Did you kill her?"

"No. She's too drunk and it happened very quickly. She won't remember anything tomorrow," Nik said in a cold voice.

We descended the stairs into the concrete bunker and entered the main room. For once, Mikhail was nowhere in sight. In fact, most of the room was empty. A few people I didn't know sat on one of the couches near a fireplace. They looked up at our entrance, one even standing.

"Go get Mikhail," Nik ordered. The person standing rushed out of the room in a blur of color. While we waited, I went to the nearest leather couch and curled up into a small ball. I was having trouble ignoring the hunger and thirst that refused to go away. My chest felt tight, my breathing was speeding up, and my fangs were still pressing against my lips.

I had fangs. When was that going to stop feeling so incredibly strange? I tried to shake my head, clearing it of the haze created by the hunger. On top of all this, my wounded leg burned and my back throbbed despite the lack of a heartbeat. I felt drained of life.

To my complete annoyance, Nik knelt beside the couch and began examining my leg. I have to admit, he was very gentle this time; that didn't mean his examination was painless. I wanted to give him a stout kick in the head. Thankfully, Mikhail entered before I could muster up the energy. It was probably good, considering how much my leg already hurt.

The primus took one look at me and a low growl issued from his chest. "Get her someone to drink."

I whimpered at the thought. I was too tired and in too much pain to think of a more profound argument. The longer I went without blood, the more my wounds hurt. Even the cut on my cheek was on fire. I heard Nik sigh before speaking. "A blood bag."

"She'll heal faster with fresh blood," argued Mikhail. I saw Nik shake his head. Mikhail waved his hand at the person who was preparing to fetch me a human. "What happened?"

"We found Emma's antiques," Nik replied, motioning to the blocks of ice placed on a table.

I couldn't remember who had carried them in. Probably Josh and the bouncer. They were melting very slowly.

"Periphetes stole them from the Louvre a couple decades ago. We stole it from him, but his house was booby trapped in the magical sense. We all got pretty banged up."

"Then why is she still hurt?"

"She wouldn't drink from a human."

"Nikolai," Mikhail sighed, drawing out his name.

"She's... obstinate," Nik said, by way of explanation.

"Then you're well matched," commented Mikhail just as the other man entered with the blood bag. It took every ounce of willpower I had not to jump off the couch and tear it from his hands or tear off his hands. The man brought the bag to me. I sunk my teeth through the plastic and slurped frantically at the cold liquid. He set a second bag next to me. While I drank, Mikhail inspected the blocks of ice.

"You say Periphetes had these?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Explains the ice," Mikhail commented. "And he wasn't there?"

"Thankfully, no. I hadn't expected his private home to be so well fortified. Had he been there I doubt we would have escaped," explained Nik.

"You got careless. I thought you were beyond that, Nikolai."

Over the edge of my blood bag, I watched Nik cringe and took a certain level of pleasure from it. Evidently even he was not too old to get a lecture from papa bear. Nik didn't respond. Clearly, he knew better than I did when to shut up. I always argued with a lecture.

"Still," continued Mikhail, "you did get the items and no one died. But does that mean you are capable of taking further care of Ashley?"

I sat up, snagging the second bag. The first bag had returned a sense of life to my bones; the second, I knew would start the healing process. My leg no longer burned and my back no longer throbbed. Would Mikhail really put someone else in charge of me? The prospect of a new, less frustrating babysitter sounded wonderful. Then again, the next person could be even more exasperating. Besides, Nikolai had proven himself more than once, despite his personal desire to end my life himself. Sure, we'd had a few disagreements, but he had kept me alive. And in the end, which was more important—life or annoyance?

Nik returned Mikhail's glare. "Who else could keep her alive? Will you take on the chore yourself?" I recoiled from his choice of words. Did he have to call me a "chore?" "You know perfectly well no one else could handle this," Nik added.

Mikhail's eyes narrowed for a long moment before he suddenly burst into laughter. "Ah, Nik, I should put you out of my misery, but I enjoy your company too damn much." He flung his arm over Nik's shoulders and patted his far arm. "Let's give Emma the stuff so she'll get the hell out of here. Her little favor has created enough trouble." Mikhail turned to me, forcing Nik to do the same by his grasp.

"Feeling better?"

I nodded.

Mikhail didn't wait for my response. He was already turning toward the man still waiting by the door. "Fetch Miss Tanner."

The man scurried away. Nik ducked out of Mikhail's friendly clutches and came to sit on the couch next to me.

Emma breezed into the room, the messenger following a little more slowly. She wore a tan dress with a thin black belt at her waist and bright red shoes. Her brown hair was done up in a curly ponytail. She stopped a few feet in and glanced around the room, pausing in her perusal to stare confusedly at the blocks of ice.

"We have found your antiques," announced Mikhail, signaling Josh who brought one block of ice forward. "Minus the codpiece."

"I can live without that, but why is it dripping?" she asked in a disgusted voice.

"A winter fae had it. The effects of his last ward are slow to wear off."

"Very well. Have them wrapped and placed in my car. I will be out of your hair before the night is over."

"Always glad to hear it," smirked Mikhail.

"Nikolai, I hope you will return my visit soon," purred Emma before sauntering out through the elegant double doors. A few helpful individuals hauled her dripping loot.

"Now, Nik," began Mikhail. "I want you to figure out the mystery surrounding Ashley."

"No one's tried to take me in the last twenty-four hours," I grumbled. "Maybe they're not interested in me anymore."

Nik shook his head. "They're just waiting for the right moment."

"Keep her safe, Nikolai. Until I say otherwise, she is the only thing that matters in your life."

I felt Nik's eyes on me, and could only imagine the frustrated thoughts working through his head. Then again, I was making his life complicated. I had spent the last couple days giving him grief while he got beaten up; he had endured a broken ankle, dislocated shoulder, and who knows how many gashes for me. Why couldn't I just be grateful?

I glanced at him. I couldn't help it. A new level of guilt weighed down on me. He was still staring at me, with a look that made me uncomfortable. If I had a pulse, it probably would have sped up. I thought he was ready to snap my neck then and there, despite Mikhail's orders.

"C'mon," Nik said as he got up. "Let's go by your place and have you pack a bag. No sense in continuing these trips back and forth. Josh, stay here and rest. We won't be long."

"Except for that whole feeding my cat thing," I said sarcastically.

"I can get someone to do that for you," offered Josh.

# Chapter Twenty-Eight

When we reached the curb, I was surprised to see Nik wave the bouncer off. He turned down the sidewalk, forcing me to jog for a second to catch up. His face showed signs of serious thought. Maybe that's why he dismissed the car. I glanced around us as we walked toward my street. Though the two blood bags had helped, I was still thirsty. Thankfully, the streets were surprisingly deserted for a Saturday night, or maybe everyone had already reached their intended destination. Granted, I'm sure the rain helped.

He led me down to Columbia Street, which was technically a block further than I would have gone. I assumed he had a reason for it. Maybe he wanted to approach my apartment from the back to make sure no one could ambush us. How was I supposed to know what went on in the mind of a homicidal, ego-maniacal vampire? Part of me knew that wasn't an entirely fair assessment of Nik, but at the moment I didn't care.

Nik opened his mouth to speak and clamped it shut again. Before he could try again, five wolves and one human burst from the small patch of woods lining the left side of the street. It seemed obvious they were werewolves, with one left in their human form to serve as spokesperson. Next to the edge of the sidewalk was a three-foot incline covered in vines and other green stuff. At the top began the trees. Two wolves took up positions on the incline while the other four blocked our path on the sidewalk.

I was standing nearest the incline, away from the street, and the speeding cars. Nik insisted on walking between me and the cars, much as my father had done when I was a child. I knew it was more due to the era he came from than a worry that I might be hit, but the result was that I was closer to the wolves.

If my memory served me, this was the same number of wolves that had attacked us at Nik's mansion. And now we didn't have ten humans to help us fight. My wish for Josh's company increased exponentially. Nik grabbed my arm and pulled me behind him.

"Give her to us and we won't kill you," the werewolf in human form said.

"You know I can't do that."

"We could beat you up a bit, so your Primus thinks you tried to save her," offered the man helpfully.

"Even if I thought it was possible to lie to my Primus, I would never give her up. She's mine," added Nik in a possessive tone. If I hadn't been frozen in fear, I would have smacked him. I didn't belong to anyone, especially him.

"Nik... maybe you... "

"Shut up," Nik snapped before I could finish the thought.

The other man sighed as if he were genuinely saddened by Nik's response before flicking a finger in our direction. The other wolves burst into action. One of those positioned on the incline came at me while a few of the others charged Nik. I had no idea how to fight a wolf, much less a sentient one that spent most of its time as a human. Nik hadn't covered that in our quick lesson on self-defense. Then again he hadn't covered anything really.

I dodged out of its first attack. The movement made me lose sight of our other attackers. Before I could reposition myself, I felt teeth sink into my wrist and yank. The pain was nauseating. It felt as though I had a spiked vice grip anchored to my wrist, and my shoulder joint began to throb. I stumbled to my right, but I used the momentum to land on the wolf. Okay, by "use my momentum" I mean, I happened to fall on it. I heard the faint sound of cracking ribs as I landed on its chest. Evidently, I'd gained a few pounds since becoming a vampire, despite the liquid diet—least of my worries really.

The wolf still had a partial hold on my wrist, so I used my free hand to grab the scruff of its neck, like one might do to a puppy or kitten. I awkwardly struggled to my feet while keeping a grip on the wolf's neck.

I remember crying once after I'd burned my wrist with a curling iron. I would have laughed at that pain now. Werewolf teeth, now those hurt. Ignoring the pain, I wrenched the wolf free, and despite the beast's bulk, flung it away with ease. The dog-shaped projectile hit Nik in the back, knocking two of his three attackers off. The short break gave him a chance to kill the third wolf.

While I took stock of my companion's condition, the first wolf to lunge at me skittered around to my back and sunk his teeth into my thigh. It hurt exponentially more than the first bite. I staggered when the wolf's teeth tore a chunk of my flesh away from my leg. I might have screamed, too, but I hadn't been a vampire for almost a week for nothing!

I slammed my fist down into the wolf's neck, and the piece of my flesh dropped from its mouth. The animal lost its footing long enough to give me an opening. I grabbed it by the head and twisted with all my might. Though the head didn't come off, thank goodness, I did feel the neck bones snap. I didn't take time to celebrate my kill. I rushed to Nik's side, trying to ignore the burning in my thigh.

Nik wasn't faring well, but neither was he as hurt as I expected. He was trying to block the attacks of two wolves while he bled all over them. I grabbed the nearest wolf by the tail and flipped it over my head, sorta like they do in the cartoons. The animal landed on the pavement in a hard thud. The beast whimpered and struggled to its feet. I lost my grip on the wolf's tail and stumbled. While I tried to regain my footing, it lunged forward on three legs. Before I could dodge or deflect, the animal had me pinned to the ground, his teeth sunk into the flesh leading from my shoulder up into my neck. I did scream this time, as fire flared up in my shoulder and spread down into my fingers—making that hand useless.

I hit the wolf with my other hand. It shook the animal but did not dislodge it from my shoulder. I tried kicking this time and managed to drive my knee into the animal's privates. Evidently, that was just as sensitive on a wolf as it was on a man. Good to know.

The wolf whimpered, released my shoulder and skipped away, its tail tucked protectively between its legs. I climbed to my feet as quickly as I could and kicked the wolf again. Before I could do anything more, it bolted for the nearby trees, still only using three legs.

By this time, Nik had killed the last wolf and charged the werewolf still in human form. Though the man ran as fast as he could, Nik quickly caught him, tearing his head from his shoulders before he could turn to defend himself. Unlike the vampires, the werewolf didn't turn to dust. Instead, the body bled and twitched. The blood did not smell human. A faint hint of fur and forest dulled my growing desire. I still wanted to drink it, don't get me wrong, but it was Wal-Mart ice cream next to a pint of Ben and Jerry's. Nik slowly turned to look at me. I took stock of his wounds. He had a long gash down his cheek while an arm and a leg looked to be missing small bits. "Let's get out of here," he panted, taking my arm and pulling me toward the nearest intersection.

I hobbled after him, my shoulder, wrist, and thigh burning and throbbing with each jostling step. I tried to remind myself that the deep wounds would heal quickly. That was one very handy feature of being a vampire.

By the time we reached my apartment, the worst of Nik's bite marks were healed. Though blood still stained his white skin and clothing, nothing was flowing down his body. My wounds weren't healing nearly as quickly. When I asked why he said I was young and stubborn.

# Chapter Twenty-Nine

"How does being stubborn effect healing?" I whispered as we headed up the steps, him at a trot and me at a limp.

"Fresh, warm blood helps us heal faster, makes us more powerful. Had you drunk from a human, rather than a bag, your healing abilities would have been heightened. This is why the blood of another vampire isn't as appealing—the heart's not beating. As it is, what you drank was barely enough to heal your last wounds. We need to get you... "

Before he could finish and before I could get the door of my apartment closed, Jordan appeared at the base of my steps. He stormed up them, not stopping until he reached the top, can of Campbell's soup in hand.

"What the hell happened to you?" he asked from the other side of the doorway as he noticed our blood-covered bodies.

"Nothing. I'm fine Jordan, this isn't a good time," I added when I felt the first tickle of thirst rising up my dry throat.

"I don't care!" Jordan brushed passed me into the room, his eyes throwing poisonous darts in Nik's direction. As he slipped by, his arm caught on the busted portion of my wall, from where Josh had forced my door open. The fragmented wood dug into his arm, cutting him.

Before I saw the cut, I smelled the fresh, human blood. My fangs descended in my mouth until I felt them press against my lower lips. I gasped and lunged at him. Nik was faster. He caught me by the shoulders and flung me onto the bed. I scrambled back, barely taking stock of Jordan's stunned expression. Nik caught me again, keeping me from tearing out my best friend's throat.

"Stop!" ordered Nik, in a calm but commanding voice. He grabbed me by the head and forced me to look him in the eye. "Ash! Stop!"

I growled at him while trying to tear my face out of his grip with quick, ferocious jerks. I even tried to kick him where a werewolf had recently taken a bite. It was a low blow, but in my defense, I was hardly in my right mind. I missed, hitting him in the thigh instead.

He grunted with the blow but didn't loosen his grasp. "Ashley, I will not let you have him," he growled through the pain I'd caused. "Stop!"

"I want him," I snarled.

"I don't care what you think you want. You cannot kill him."

"He's mine!"

"NO!" snapped Nik, all calmness gone. "He is not yours. Control it."

"I can't," I screamed, making another attempt at freeing myself. Nik's grip tightened around my face until it hurt.

"What the fuck is wrong with her?!" Jordan asked.

The sound of his voice helped me a little, especially since even I didn't use that word often. For Jordan to use it meant he was really freaked out.

"How, Nik?" I wailed, aware for the first time that not all of me want to kill him.

"Breathe. Will yourself into control."

"What's wrong with her?" repeated Jordan.

"Shut up," snapped Nik over his shoulder, not realizing Jordan's voice was helping. "Tell me, who's Jordan?"

"My friend," I said, the words barely making it passed my clamped teeth.

"How did you meet him?"

"High school. He befriended me... when no one else would," I added. Those words seemed to click in a part of my brain and I felt the craving start to ease. I took a stuttered breath through my teeth. "He's my best friend."

"Do you love him?"

"Yes."

"Focus on that."

I did, repeating his name over and over in my mind and breathing through my mouth until I lost the smell of his blood.

"Jordan," Nik said in a relieved tone. "Go open the window and stay by it."

"Who the hell are you to tell me what to do? And what are you doing to-"

"Just do it!" Nik snapped. I nodded encouragement. I knew it would help.

Jordan obeyed with a quick hop over to the window, opening it as wide as it could go and staying in the damp draft. It helped. I took a few more deep breaths through my mouth and nodded to Nik. He let go of my face but kept himself between me and Jordan.

"Ashley," began Nik in a calm voice. "I'm going to help you. We're going to do this nice and easy, but you need to drink some."

It took me a moment to register what he was saying. Wasn't he just holding me back a moment ago, and now he was telling me to drink?

"I'm not drinking Jordan, I'll heal eventually,"

"Not to heal... but to control him."

"What?" I asked.

"What is going on?" Jordan asked again. "She needs an ambulance." Jordan dug into his pants pocket and pulled out a slightly outdated cell phone. I'm sure he wondered how on earth I was still on my feet considered the amount of blood and flesh I was missing.

Before he could unlock the phone, Nik had slapped it from his hand. It clattered to the floor and slid under my computer desk.

"No ambulance. She'll be fine." Jordan tried to argue, but Nik ignored him, turning back to me. "If you drink from him, but don't kill him, he will be loyal to you, like my people were. Besides, you need to start building a supply line."

"Jordan won't tell anyone," I said, taking another deep breath through my mouth.

"That's not enough. When Mikhail finds out that someone knows about us and is not under our control, he will have Jordan killed. You need to drink from him."

"I'd kill him... if I tried."

"Then you need to let me."

"What? No! "

Nik reached up and stroked my cheek with his thumb while staring into my eyes.

"You can trust me. I have very good control. He'll be completely safe; but if I don't do this, Mikhail will have him killed."

"Who's Mikhail? What have you gotten yourself into Ashley? You weren't sick were you...?"

Jordan rambled on, but I wasn't listening. I felt hot tears prick my eyes and roll down my cheeks as I stared into Nik's eyes. I knew I needed to trust him. I had spent the last few days disliking him because he had wanted to protect the seethe from the dangers I'd brought with me. He hadn't been wrong. Why couldn't I trust him to do what was best for me? Nik wiped the tears away, a look of pain and frustration marring his features. I didn't have enough time or brainpower to translate his look. I felt my lower lip began to quiver and quickly bit down on it. After a long, silent moment, I nodded.

Nik went to Jordan, keeping himself between me and my best friend. I closed my eyes, allowing the tears to roll freely while Jordan barraged us with a list of questions. When I opened my eyes, Jordan's questions had become those of a panicked victim. Nik was taking his time as he neared Jordan; no doubt making sure his control was in place.

I watched as Jordan's eyes grew until I could see the white all around his pupils. Nik took the last step in a blur, grabbed Jordan by the hair and gently, but firmly, forced his head to the side. Nik bent over him and sunk his teeth into his shoulder. Jordan jerked, trying futilely to escape Nik's grasp, but I knew it was no use. Nik kept him from tearing flesh around the bite location. He drank more than I had expected and I was just about to intercede when he finally did stop.

Nik slurped a little before licking his lips. In any other situation, I would have laughed. Nik pulled Jordan's hand up to his neck and used it to stem the trickle of blood seeping from the wound. Nik had been masterful in his biting—only two, tiny holes, like in the movies.

"Ashley, do you have any Band-Aids?" he asked.

Jordan was apparently too shocked to comment or run, or maybe it was his new attachment to Nik. This whole blood-sucking devout-human thing was still kinda new to me. All I knew was, in theory, Jordan would now not do anything to harm Nik. I pulled my small first aid kit out from under my bed, where I kept my dust bunnies and other random stuff that had no other home. In it, Nik found a large fabric Band-Aid that he carefully applied to Jordan's neck before bandaging his wrist with something more elaborate. While Nik dealt with the triage, I went into my kitchen to get away from the smell and continued to breathe through my mouth.

I was still extremely thirsty after being wounded, and Jordan's puncture marks and cut wrist continued to call to me. I turned to a cabinet and pulled out a can of mixed nuts, which I immediately began popping into my mouth. I hoped eating human food would at least help, or if nothing else, keep me distracted.

"Listen to me, Jordan," Nik was saying. "I want you to go home, eat some sort of protein, and get some sleep. Don't tell anyone about tonight. I'll call you later and explain everything."

"'Kay," he said without argument before leaving. He didn't look at me. I suddenly felt as though a boulder had been dropped into my stomach. I knew that my relationship with Jordan was going to be drastically different. Either he would fear me, or worse, ignore me.

# Chapter Thirty

After a long, horrible pause, Nik turned to look at me. He caught me with my hand halfway to my mouth. I froze before dropping the nuts back into the jar and wiping my hands on my ruined jeans. Eating seemed suddenly inappropriate considering I had recently tried to kill my best friend. The guilt slammed into me, threatening to crush me into a puddle of vampire goo.

I felt my eyes begin to burn and the muscles in my throat tighten—not in a thirsty way, but in a blubber-like-a-baby way. I was going to cry again and was damn angry about it. I had cried enough for one night. Nik crossed my apartment in three quick steps and pulled me into his arms. I tensed in his grasp, but he didn't let me go.

Again, I wondered why I couldn't trust him. Hadn't he just done what I couldn't to keep my friend alive—my friend who had simply been at the wrong place at the wrong time? He had put himself between me and danger time and again. Was it just because Mikhail told him to? Or was there a true friendship building? Could I let myself be friends with him? Could I forget the first impression he had made?

Nik let me cry until I started to sag in his arms. Finally, he lifted me up and placed me on the bed. He knelt down beside me, carefully brushing my hair away from my wet face. His green eyes were soft and understanding. The red flecks took on a strange sort of dominance in his unique irises.

"I'm going to take care of Tereus and pack you a bag."

I didn't understand what he meant until he began filling Muffler's bowls with fresh food and water. To my astonishment, Nik moved on to my cat's litter box, tucked in the corner of my kitchen and cleaned it. He didn't even comment on its overflowing state. While he was doing this, Muffler bounced onto the bed and sat down with his front paws draped over my legs so that he could get a better look at my face.

"What exactly happened to you?" Muffler asked in a tone mixed with interest and annoyance. I knew he was upset that I had spent the better part of the week away from my apartment.

"We got attacked by werewolves again," explained Nik as he tied up the plastic bag filled with cat poop.

Muffler turned back to me and reached a paw over to scratch behind his misshapen ears. Whoever had put Tereus into a cat's body had chosen a Scottish Fold, thus Muffler's ears were tiny and, well, folded over. The cat-fae-thing leaned into my legs until it was difficult to move them at all.

"Not good," purred Muffler. "They seem determined."

"Yes, but I'm not too worried about them attacking again," said Nik. "They've lost most of their dominants, including their alpha. They don't have anyone left to fight with."

"Dominant?" I asked, my voice cracking with fatigue and post-crying phlegm.

"Werewolves act a lot like their normal counterparts. Their pack hierarchy is based on how dominant they are. The submissive wolves are at the bottom of the food chain, so to speak. Those that are dominant are better fighters and more protective. But we've killed twelve of them so far. I doubt they have anyone left to send at us."

"Why didn't they send everyone at you at once?" my cat asked.

"They probably didn't expect my people to be able to defend themselves." Nik stopped himself, aware that his statement wasn't entirely true. "Or, rather, able to put up a bit of fight... giving me enough time to take them out. This second attack was simply what was left, other than the young, submissive, or inexperienced."

Muffler made a movement with his head that looked like a nod.

Nik rose from his place by the litter box and dumped the plastic bag into my larger garbage. He went to my dresser and began rummaging through my clothing. I didn't really like the idea of him packing for me and so I sat up.

"You up to packing?"

I nodded wearily. "Is doing laundry on our agenda for the rest of the night?"

"You can do some at the seethe tonight. I'm gonna call Mikhail and have a car sent over. You're not up to walking back."

"Especially if there are more monsters waiting to attack us," I mumbled. This brought a smile to Nik's lips.

As I got up off the bed, I realized I had left a stain on my bed. Oh well, I thought as I stared at it. Suddenly I realized it was too thick and wet in places to be transferal from my stained clothing. I looked down at the bite marks in my thigh and my wrist—I couldn't see the one on my shoulder. Surprisingly, they were still leaking. It didn't look like they had healed at all. I tried to think back and count the minutes since the attack, but I couldn't decide how long we'd been at the apartment. It seemed like the wound should have stopped bleeding by now. I was about to ignore it when I heard the click of my phone hitting the receiver and Nik's voice.

"Something wrong?"

I glanced at him over my shoulder, not really sure if he was talking to me. "Should I still be bleeding like this?" I asked, pointing at my gouged leg with my wounded wrist. The room started spinning in a lazy, hazy sort of way.

Nik rushed to my side in a blur of motion. He ignored my leg and wrist to brush my hair away from the bite on my shoulder. I nearly fainted when he gave it a gentle poke. "Lay back down."

I was going to argue, but he applied a little pressure and I simply collapsed onto the mattress. Had I not been nearly unconscious, I would have had some sort of smart ass comment for his next move. He tore his shirt off, just like they do in the movies. Though it was already blood-stained, he wadded it up against my neck and used my good hand to apply pressure.

"Stay put. I'll pack, including the stuff in the laundry basket," he added when I began to protest. "Mikhail is sending someone. They should be here any minute. And he's sending someone to deal with the corpses too."

Nik rummaged around my room, throwing things into the large army-green duffel bag. I reminded him about my need for bras when I saw him beginning to pull the tie shut. He added the entire contents of the drawer to the horde and yanked the drawstring closed. I chose not to tell him I didn't foresee a need for the strapless lacy number or the super-date-night push-up bra.

"That's them," Nik announced at the distant sound of cars tires screeching to a halt. "Tereus, someone will come to check on you."

I began to sit up, but he shifted to my side before I could manage it. Nik flung the bag over his shoulder and picked me up in his arms like I was a baby. He trotted down the stairs at a slightly askance angle to make room for my dangling feet.

Sure enough, a car was parked at the curb. A man in black was standing by the passenger door. He nodded respectfully to Nik as he opened the door. Rather than place me on the seat, he slid in, keeping me in his lap. The man, a human by the sound of his heartbeat, rounded the car as quickly as he could and climbed in.

"She okay?" he asked.

"She needs to drink... and I need to get her wounds properly bandaged."

To my disgust, the man reached around the duffel bag wedged between him and Nik, placing his wrist right in front of my mouth. I gulped and held my breath. I could hear his heart pumping and could almost see his pulse through the translucent skin on his wrist. I didn't have much left of my not-too-reliable control. I jerked my head away, into Nik's shoulder while trying to slam my fist down on the window controllers. Of course, I missed and only managed to turn the air vents toward the floor.

"No," ordered Nik to the driver. He rolled down the windows, evidently getting the message. "She doesn't think she can control herself. Besides, she only drinks from blood bags," he added when I made a gruff sound in the back of my throat.

The man shrugged and drove quickly to the restaurant. He stopped near the side entrance, which led straight into the multilayered basement. Nik opened the door and somehow managed to get out of the car, even though he had me in his arms and a giant duffel bag over his shoulder. The driver got out to open the side door, leaving the car running in the middle of the street. With a nod to our chauffeur, Nik practically fell down the stairs, or at least that's how it felt to me. Maybe I was getting light-headed again.

"What happened... is she okay?" a voice asked. It was Josh.

"We got attacked. More werewolves. Bring me blood bags. A lot of them!"

Josh didn't answer, but I heard his footsteps running away from us. Nik moved quickly into his room. From my position in Nik's arms, I could only see small portions of his room, but from what I saw it was sterile and opulent all at the same time. His white couches, though clearly expensive, contained sharp edges. I noticed an enormous bed with a silver framing and maroon coverings. The walls were whitewashed, with faint silver stripes which I almost missed. Before I could figure out his décor choice, he was kicking open a door and striding into his bathroom.

Like the bedroom, it was a strange mix of modern boxiness and rich elegance. The bottom half of the walls were tiled with stark slate, with the far corner glassed off into a not-so-private shower. The upper half of the walls mimicked the bedroom with silver and white stripped paint. The tub was a perfect rectangle on the outside—the sides running all the way to the tiled floor—and a sophisticated oval on the inside. I spotted plush, white towels standing out against the dark slate. I could only think of the blood that would soon stain the whiteness. He gently deposited me into the bathtub and tossed the duffle bag toward the bedroom. From under one of the sinks, he pulled out a first aid kit the size of a large tool box.

"I have to take your shirt off." With gentle fingers, he pulled the drenched fabric away from my shoulder and tore it clean off my body. Quickly, he covered the wide wound with a large pile of Telfa pads and wrapped my shoulder and neck in three rolls of vet wrap.

"Now for the jeans," he added as he reached for the button. I was too tired and in too much pain to think about modesty, though I did notice his growing blush. I let him tear my jeans off... literally, though not in the sexy way they did in my books. Thankfully, I was wearing pretty concealing underwear and a heavy duty sports bra. In reality, I'd seen bathing suits more revealing. Nik bathed my leg and carefully wrapped it in Telfa pads and vet wrap. Just as he was cutting the end of the vet wrap from the roll, Josh entered with a large cooler, the kind you use for weeklong camping trips. He placed it next to the tub.

"What else can I do?" Josh asked in a worried voice. I tried to turn my head to smile reassuringly at him, but the movement brought a grimace to my face. In the end, I think it did more harm than good.

"Get out," snapped Nik. Josh was nearly through the door when Nik called him back. "Wait... get that bag of clothing cleaned," he added, nodding toward my duffel bag. Josh grabbed it and left.

"You didn't need to yell at him."

"What are you? Josh's protector?" asked Nik, his eyes only for his work—my mutilated wrist.

"No... just your pain in the ass," I mumbled.

# Chapter Thirty-One

Nik rolled his eyes at my snarky quip and continued to examine my wrist. It looked as though the wolf bite had also broken the thin ulna bone in my wrist, or at least that's what Nik said. Evidently, during his many years of existence, he had picked up a fairly in-depth understanding of the human body. Nik carefully worked his fingers into the torn flesh and realigned the bone. I grabbed my destroyed shirt and wadded it into my mouth to keep from screaming. I probably wouldn't have been able to scream even if I'd tried. All the breath had been forcefully expelled from my body when he started working on the bone, and my lungs refused to inhale again until he had finished.

Finally, he wrapped my wrist in bandages, being careful not to move the joint. Evidently, he didn't think a traditional cast was necessary. He reached into the cooler and pulled out a blood bag. I felt my need and desire swarm through my veins. Was this what a drug addict feels when going through withdrawals? But my fix was right in front of me. I breathed through my mouth, trying to control myself. Nik tried to hand me the bag.

"What are you thinking?" he demanded in a harsh tone when I didn't immediately take it. "You have to drink. Don't tell me you're not okay with blood bags now."

"I just want to work on my control. I can't let what happened tonight happen again."

"Now is not the time to practice your control. You need to drink to heal," he growled. When I still didn't take the bag, he tore the plug off and forced it into my mouth. No matter how much my control had improved since turning, it was not good enough to resist when blood was filling my mouth and running down my throat. I jerked the bag from his hand and downed it. He had another waiting when I finished. I didn't stop to think. I just took it and drank.

Somewhere between my third and fourth blood bag, Nik took one for himself. He sipped at it, watching my insanity. When I finished my own bag, I set it down and waved off the fifth. I shivered and glanced down at my nearly naked body. It was covered in splatters of blood.

"Can I have a washcloth?" I asked, rubbing at the worst of the stains with my bare hands.

He got me three. I would need them. I scrubbed at my leg, stomach, and arms while Nik sat with his back against the tub, sipping on another blood bag—giving me some privacy. By the time I got the stains off, my skin was red from rubbing. At least it wasn't blood. I hissed in pain when I shifted to try to clean the blood that had dripped from my shoulder down my back.

"What's wrong?" he asked, turning around.

"Just can't get my shoulder cleaned."

"Let me." With Nik's help, I climbed out of the tub and sat on the edge facing away from Nik. He scrubbed my back, having to rinse his rags half way through.

"Nik?" I whispered when he was nearly finished. He grunted in response. "Did it hurt Jordan when you... when you bit him?"

He gave a long, tortured sigh. "No Ash, in fact, being human, he probably enjoyed it."

"What?" I asked, spinning around on the edge of the tub, causing him to bump my damaged shoulder. I winced and had to take a few shallow breaths before I could stare at him.

Nik sighed again. "I am very old and have been doing this a long time. I didn't hurt him."

"But when Isaac bit me it hurt like hell."

Nik thought about his words for a moment before speaking. "I don't know Isaac really well, but what I do know of him suggests that he doesn't care whether his victims suffer. I doubt he ever feeds without killing the person. When a vampire is feeding and trying to create a connection with the human it is better to cause as little pain as possible."

"Why?"

"Because pain helps clear the head. It means their natural defenses are better able to block out our call. Vampires who want to keep their humans learn quickly to be gentle."

"So you didn't hurt Jordan?" I asked again. I just wanted to be sure.

"I did not hurt Jordan," Nik replied, saying each word slowly.

"You sure?" I just couldn't separate what I had felt when Isaac fed off me and the idea of Nik feeding off my best friend.

This time, Nik growled deep in his chest. In a lightning movement, Nik sunk his teeth into my neck on the opposite side of my wound. I felt a tiny prick and then nothing. He sucked on my neck for less than half a minute. His lips felt warm against my cold skin as they carefully slid off, wiping the last of the blood off my neck.

"Now... did that hurt?"

I shook my head, suddenly feeling very tired and overwhelmed. "What's going to happen to him now?"

Nik took a deep breath before speaking. "That depends on a lot of things. One of us has to keep him close through feeding. If you want, I can do it until your control is good enough. Or you can leave him with me. I'll take care of him." Nik shrugged. "After all, I'm in need of a new... family. He'd be welcome at my home."

I felt my face dip into something like a pout. I was hoping Nik would just leave him alone. "Can't we just let him go?"

"No. He knows about us. We've been over this, Ash. If Mikhail found out about him, and that he wasn't controlled by one of us, Mikhail would have him killed."

"Then just don't tell Mikhail," I whined.

"It's not that simple. He is my primus. I am bound to obey him and act in the best interest of the seethe. Letting Jordan go free is not within the best interest of the seethe."

"But if we just talk to him, I know he would promise to keep our secret."

"That's not enough, Ash, and you know it. Our secrecy is vital. If the public found out a lot of people would die, and likely not many vampires."

"That's not why Mikhail wants our secret kept," I mumbled.

"True. But that doesn't make his reasons any less valid." After a long, resentful silence, I nodded. Nik tenderly reached up and brushed my hair out of my face.

"I'll take care of him, I promise." I nodded again.

I knew I was pouting, and I knew his reasoning was sound. I just hated feeling helpless, and I hated Mikhail for being the hard-ass bastard that the seethe needed. And I hated myself for feeling all this hate. "C'mon, you need some sleep."

Nik brought me a large T-shirt, which he slipped over my bandaged shoulder before getting my head and other arm through the proper holes. The shirt nearly reached my knees. Rather than make me walk, he scooped me up and carried me to his king size bed.

# Chapter Thirty-Two

When I woke, my internal clock suggested it had only been an hour or two, but that didn't necessarily mean anything. Since turning, my days had become nights and my nights days. In truth, I couldn't even remember if it was night or day when I had fallen asleep. I climbed out of the enormous bed and looked around. It was just as I remember it, silver striped walls, white couch, and maroon blankets. Now that I wasn't bleeding to death I had a chance to look more closely. There was an overly large flat screen T.V. mounted on the wall opposite the bed and couch. I noticed maroon pillows decorating the couch and a black blanket folded on one end. On a metallic looking dresser sat a row of off-white candles and hand-blown glass shapes. These small touches did little to make the room feel like anything more than a posh hotel.

I glanced around, searching the room for my bag of clothing. After a moment of concern, I remembered Josh dragging it out of the room to have its contents cleaned. I scrounged through the drawers until I found one containing sweatpants. I slipped into a pair, rolling the waistband until they fit a little better. It wasn't brilliant. The legs were still long enough to cover my feet, which was useful being that I didn't have any socks.

I slipped out of the room, wondering where Nik had run off to. Then again, why was I even looking for him? It seemed logical to be overjoyed with an opportunity to do my own thing. From the restaurant upstairs I could hear the muffled voices of the cleaning crew, so it could be anywhere from two a.m. to four p.m. I turned down the hallway, heading away from the common room where I assumed Nik would be relaxing. At the end of the hallway, I found a set of wide stairs leading down into another layer of the concrete bunker. I descended the steps and discovered a similar corridor with evenly spaced doors dotting the walls. Though brightly lit, the hallway lacked any form of decoration or home-like touch. I walked halfway down the hallway and began to wonder what was behind the matching doors. I knew one of them was Josh's room, but it had been days since visiting his room and I hadn't been exactly with it at the time.

I stopped and leaned against the nearest door. I couldn't hear anything and, after a moment's consideration, I realized it most likely meant the room was empty. After all, I now had super human hearing. I glanced down the hallway in both directions, making sure I was really alone, before gently turning the knob and opening the door. It led into a room with a similar layout as Josh's, but very different decor.

The walls were lined with brick. I reached out and touched the nearest wall, wondering if it was real brick or a really impressive paint job. Nope, actual brick. A strange queen-size bed lay against the left wall. Though technically considered a four-poster bed, it looked nothing like any bed I'd ever seen. The vertical posts were tree trunks that had been cleared of all bark and polished to a high sheen. At the top, branches jutted out, connecting to make a vaguely square frame around the top. Draped from the branches were green curtains pulled back into elegant swags. The bedspread was a dark forest green. It looked like something out of Lord of the Rings. On the other side of the bed, a spiral staircase led upwards. Across from the bed, a gas fireplace sat surrounded by oversized, hand-carved chairs filled with many large pillows and cushions. Two enormous forest paintings covered the wall in place of windows.

Beyond the bed and chair arrangement, the plush tan carpet changed into tiling. An enormous tub took up most of the far left corner, while the right corner held a glass-encased shower. In the center sat an antique-looking vanity. This room made Nikolai's modern look feel harsh and foreign.

Without thinking, I walked to the fireplace, where framed charcoal sketches sat on the mantel on either side of a long row of books including Lord of the Rings—no surprise there—Into the Wilde, Frankenstein, War and Peace, Gothic Tales, The Complete Works of Edger Allan Poe, and Le Morte D'Arthur, all in modern bindings. My head hurt just reading the titles. I spotted a small glass book shelf containing older looking books tucked in the corner, safely away from the heat of the fire.

The first of the charcoal sketches resting beside the books was of a small child with plump cheeks and large dimples whose hands were reaching out toward the artist in a familiar way. I wondered who the child and artist had been. The style, paper, and frame all suggested the picture was very old and the child long dead. I moved on to the other picture before I could get weepy over someone I had never met. The next picture was of an elegant woman dressed in a 1920s costume. Belatedly, I realized the woman was likely not in costume at all, but wearing clothes from her own era. I stared into her eyes, wondering what color they had been.

I had just begun to grow concerned about being caught in this pretty room when I heard footsteps. I froze by the fire, my fingers still resting against the smooth frame of the second picture. A second later, the handle turned and the door swung open. The man who entered was not what I had been expecting. Though tall and lean, like most of the other vampires I had seen, the similarities stopped there. His dark hair was liberally speckled with gray, his stubble length facial hair also gray. It never occurred to me that a person could be turned after his prime. In my books, all of the vampires were young and beautiful. Don't get me wrong, I'd already realized that less-than-attractive people might get turned, you know, by accident or something. But old people? The very idea of an old vampire was comical. In a different situation, I would have struggled not to laugh.

He held the arm of a thin, pale woman. She had a few different pairs of puncture marks on her arms and neck, all at different stages of healing. I quickly pulled my hand away from the picture and placed it behind my back. I felt like a child who had been caught playing "tea" with her grandmother's china. He eyed me for a moment, the grip on his victim's arm tightening until she winced.

"Go upstairs," he whispered in the woman's ear.

Either he didn't realize I was a vampire or he whispered in an effort to make me feel uncomfortable, intrusive. Mission accomplished! The woman nodded and scurried up the spiral staircase. Faster than I thought possible, she was out of sight.

"And you are?" he asked in a voice that was beyond its prime, but attractive in a gravelly sort of way. Overall, his appearance of age was in direct contrast with his attractiveness—like George Clooney or Sean Connery. They could be your grandparent, but that doesn't mean you didn't fantasize about them.

"Ashley," I said in a breathy tone. _You're safe within the seethe,_ I told myself in an effort to regain my courage. It didn't work.

"Nikolai's little pet?" The man's serious face turned into a sudden smile that created laugh lines around his eyes and lips.

I nodded, trying to swallow my disgust. I didn't trust the smile, considering how much I was in the wrong, not to mention his choice of words.

Before the man could speak again, we heard footsteps on the stairs. The sound progressed down the hallway and stopped outside the doorway. The older man smiled as if he were thoroughly enjoying himself despite the fact I had invaded his privacy. He stepped back to the door and opened it. As I expected, Nik stood on the other side, his face set in grim lines.

"Nikolai," the older man said by way of a greeting. "I believe you've lost something." He waved a long-fingered hand toward me and stepped away from the doorway. Nik took one step into the room and stared at me. I recognized his poker face. "Perhaps in the future, you could keep your flunky from snooping into other people's rooms."

Despite the context, the man's voice was as sweet as honey. Nik kept his face calm as he motioned me to his side. I stayed where I was near the fire, in part because I was terrified of his response but also because I didn't like the idea of him ordering me around. Nik waited a moment before crossing the room and dragging me to the door. The other man motioned for us to stop. Nik consented though his arms and shoulders showed just how tense he was if one knew what to look for.

"Are you going to introduce us?" the other man asked in a voice—one that would fit better at a dinner party than a tense confrontation.

"Ashley Hawn, may I introduce Samuel Bligh," Nik said. He sounded as though he were trying to be just as sappy sweet as Samuel, and he failed miserably. Maybe it was the clamped teeth or the clenched fists.

"A pleasure to meet you," Samuel said before taking my hand and gently kissing it. A shudder ran up my spine which I failed to mask. Samuel's eyes gleamed as he enjoyed my discomfort.

He opened the door and bowed me out as Nik dragged me into the hallway.

# Chapter Thirty-Three

We didn't stop until we were safely enclosed in his bedroom. With his free hand, Nik slammed the door shut while propelling me toward the couch. I slammed into the side and nearly flipped over the arm rest. Once back on my feet, I turned to gaze upon a furious Nik. His hands were tightened back into fists—his tendons showing through his translucent skin—his shoulders tense and his brows wrinkled into a glare.

"What. Were. You. Thinking?" he asked, intoning each word as if I might miss one. Or maybe he was worried his anger would bring forth his accent.

I took two involuntary steps backward, which was a mistake. He rushed to me at top speed and grabbed me by the shoulders, making sure I could not put any more distance between us. In a voice more like a growl, he asked me again, "What were you doing?"

"I woke up," I whispered. "And didn't know where you were."

"So naturally you went looking for me in Samuel's room?" he asked. "Tell me the truth!"

"I woke up and knew you would be in the main room. So I went looking for Josh's room... " I trailed off, realizing I had no excuse for my wandering. "What's the big deal?" I asked in a last ditch effort to save myself from his wrath. Mistake number two!

"Big deal?" he barked, pushing me back into the couch. "Do you have any idea who Samuel is?"

I shook my head. How could I? I just met the guy. Nik sighed and sank to the couch pulling me down with him.

"Like any organization, the seethe is built based on rank. Mikhail is our primus, his position is fairly firm. It is difficult to displace a primus. Beyond him, though, our ranks are based on our age and ability to fight. To climb in the ranks beyond what your age dictates, you have to fight and kill those above you. Samuel is just below me in the hierarchy. He has been looking for an opportunity to convince Mikhail that I am dangerous to the seethe or something like that, to get Mikhail to eliminate me for him because he can't manage it himself."

"What does this have to do with me?" I asked in a quiet voice. It all suddenly felt very serious.

Nik climbed to his feet in big huff—more out of frustration, I thought, than anger. "Mikhail put you in my charge. Until you become a part of the seethe, officially, you are under my protection and guidance. Meaning, if you get in trouble I reap the... benefits... the results. And your stunt today was exactly what could get me in trouble. Privacy is very important to most vampires."

"So just because I went into his room, he could get Mikhail to kill you?" I asked in disbelief.

"I doubt Mikhail would kill due to that alone, but understand, Samuel has been working against me for decades. He's been gathering dirt on me for as long as he's been in this seethe and realized he couldn't take me in a fair fight."

"Wow! He sounds like a douche!" Nik glared at me. I was starting to realize Nik didn't like any foul language, especially from a girl. "Jerk... what a jerk!" He rolled his eyes, obviously not appeased by my sudden change of heart. "Why don't you just kill him?" I asked.

"Samuel may be a... a jerk, but he has his uses. Besides, I try not to kill those in my seethe if it's not necessary. It is not a strategy I want others emulating. The point is I need you to stay next to me—not getting into trouble."

"You weren't here when I woke up," I pointed out.

Nik glared at me. "Then wait for me. Or do I need to stay at your side all the time?"

I balked at the thought of him never leaving. "All right, all right, no more running away," I lied.

I wasn't sure he sensed my lie or not. Either way, he let the subject drop.

"C'mon," he began again. "I need to check your wounds."

"They're fine," I insisted without getting up. Nik looked down at me.

"Then it won't take me long to check them," he responded, as though it should have been obvious to me.

I stood up with a put-upon sigh, which he ignored, and followed him into the bathroom. Once there, I began stripping out of my top. I climbed up onto his counter and waited while he pulled out the first aid kit. Nik produced a pair of slim, sharp scissors and began removing the bandaging from my arm, leg, and shoulder. As I expected, the wounds were completely healed.

"So what do you do when you're not stuck with a babysitting gig?" I asked.

Nik glanced at me and quickly glanced away when he realized I was replacing the T-shirt. "What?" he asked, being sure to keep his eyes focused on the floor. I quickly pulled my borrowed pair of sweatpants on.

"What do you do in your spare time... you know... for fun."

Nik frowned at me. "Why do you want to know?"

I heaved a sigh of annoyance and headed for the bedroom. "Oh, never mind."

Before I could say anything else, a knock echoed off his door.

"Come in," Nik called.

A man I didn't recognize entered with a basket full of my clean clothing and my empty duffel bag hung from his shoulder. He placed the items on the floor near the couch and backed out of the room. Before he closed the door he smiled and winked at me.

I glanced up at Nik before going to the basket. His face had transformed into hard lines. I couldn't figure out what had happened to make him angry again. He turned around and secluded himself in the bathroom. I heard the water of his enormous shower and assumed the conversation was over. While Nik showered, I transferred my clothing from the neat piles in the basket back to my duffel bag. I didn't want to feel like I was moving in. In a few days, I'd be back in my own apartment, I told myself. Hopefully, I hadn't missed my rent payment.

Nik returned as I was cramming the last of my clothing into my duffel bag, not worrying about being able to find my underwear the next time I needed to change; I could always dump it back out onto the floor. He eyed my activity while drying his hair with a towel. I turned back to the bag, determined not to look at him while he wore nothing but a damp towel. The problem was I wanted to look. I'm only human, or at least I used to be, and vampires apparently had the same desires. Nik was a handsome man. Crazy, but handsome—like the hot guys on TV you want to watch but never meet in person.

I fiddled with the draw-string on my bag before grabbing a pair of Nik's sweatpants from the nearby dresser and tossing them in his general direction. I heard him chuckle, pick them up off the floor, and slip them on.

"So... totally random question," I began. "How do you kill a vampire? Other than a stake to the heart."

"Are you wondering because of your recent wounds? Or because you're uncomfortable with me being naked?" he asked, reading my mind—it was a tie between the two. I wanted to tell him to get out of my head but decided to keep us on topic. I just nodded in a vague sort of way. After a moment's hesitation, I heard the bed creak under his weight. "Well, sunlight obviously isn't healthy. You can behead them or tear their heart out. Okay, well not you... but a strong vampire could."

I spun around and threw something at him. I didn't really know what I'd grabbed off the dresser until it was resting safely in his palm. It was a large, round candle. Evidently, he'd caught it, though I hadn't seen the movement.

"Someone's a little touchy today. I was just teasing."

I tried to ignore him as I continued to fidget with my clothing. "So. How else do you kill a vampire?"

"Well, you can always light them on fire, but you have to burn them completely into ash or they will heal. Though silver isn't deadly, wounds caused by silver take longer to heal."

"I thought that was werewolves," I responded in surprise. I'd been thinking of adding werewolves into my book.

"Silver hurts them too. It's a pretty good weapon against mystical creatures in general. Now, any more questions, or can we get some sleep?"

"I just woke up."

"True, but you only slept for two hours, and the sun is well into the sky now."

"Oh."

"So any more questions?" he sighed. He looked tired.

"Just one more. Can a vampire bleed out?"

I was glad he didn't tease me. I knew he knew what I was thinking about—the blood stains I'd left on my bed, my clothing, and his bathtub. I'd bled more than any human could have managed. "Yes," Nik replied in a subdued voice, "If they haven't drunk enough human blood, or if they are cut badly enough and often enough. To manage it, you have to injure them repeatedly for a very long time—torture them. It's not very likely to happen. Now can we sleep?" he asked again after a long, uncomfortable pause.

He didn't wait for my response and by the time I was settled under the blankets, he was sound asleep on the couch, despite the king size bed. Always the gentleman.

# Chapter Thirty-Four

I woke feeling uneasy. Perhaps it was the last lingering effects of scary dreams featuring fangs, fur, and best friends. I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, trying to return to blissful oblivion. It didn't come. Finally, with a sigh, I opened my eyes and sat up.

Nik was already dressed and ready for the day. He sat on the white couch reading a book. I moved to the couch and tipped his book so that I could see the title. Gold letters were embossed across the leather binding. They read "Little Women."

I stared at him for a few seconds, my eyebrows lost up in my swooping bangs. He finally noticed my look. "You run out of things to read in 300 years," he murmured by way of explanation.

"Wait, 300 years?"

"I believe I am technically 301 years old, though I could have lost count along the way." He didn't even look up from his book.

"Shit!" I exclaimed. It was the best response I could think of. This got him to look up. He frowned. He didn't like women swearing. "That's old."

"Indeed," Nik said in a droll voice.

We sat in silence while I tried to take in the centuries he had seen. I noticed a blood bag on the coffee table, snatched it up, and examined it while my brain ran to places I didn't want to go. I'd always thought my books were good... well, decent. But it seemed like each day produced more occasions for self-doubt. I knew nothing about being a vampire, and in the end, my books were just a few piles of crap shaped into a vague plot. My vampire characters were sheer perfection. Almost gods. They were always beautiful, always fast, always flexible, and always talented.

But now I found myself to be an actual vampire and I wasn't any more beautiful, and though fast, my reflexes were just what they had been before. I just tripped more quickly. It was a huge disappointment to realize I was just the same old me, except now I craved the death of my best friends and would eventually see them grow old and die, while I never aged.

"So... what's on the agenda for today? Kill a few more werewolves or play some Monopoly?" I asked as I ran my fingers through my rumpled, red hair. I wanted to take my mind off the more depressing topics. "So?" I urged when he didn't look up from his book.

"Huh?"

"Werewolves or Monopoly?"

He chuckled, finally setting his book down. Nik turned around, dangling one arm over the back of the couch so he could look at me seated at the other end of the couch. "As much fun as Monopoly sounds, we need to do a little research on you."

"Fine," I pouted as I got up from the couch, leaving my empty blood bag on the table. I pulled out a fresh pair of jeans and a T-shirt that read "I'm not short, I'm fun size." When I came back from the bathroom fully dressed and my hair in a braid, Nik took a second to read the shirt. He didn't laugh outright, but I thought I saw a glimmer of amusement.

"So," I began. "How do we 'research' me, and what are you looking for?"

"I figure whatever the reason is that everyone wants you has to do with your ancestry, as Helen pointed out. If the spell needs you or your blood specifically than it means you are the descendant of someone, someone important. Therefore, tell me about your family history."

I moved to the couch and sat down on the far end, leaning my back against the armrest so I could look at him. "I don't know. My grandparents moved to Olympia shortly after World War I. Their parents were dairy farmers in Wisconsin." I shrugged.

"Further back than that."

"Um... we're not really the family history type of people."

"Well, can we ask your folks or your grandparents? Maybe they know."

I shook my head, trying to ignore the sudden tightness in my chest and the pressure in my eyes. "All dead."

Nik hesitated. "Your parents are dead?"

I nodded. "Car accident. My grandparents died when I was pretty young. I don't really remember them," I added, trying to keep him from asking more questions. I wasn't ready to share, especially with him.

"Okay... so no help there. What about aunts and uncles?"

I shook my head again. "Both my parents were only children, just like me. I know; we must be a bunch of spoiled brats."

"Eh, I already knew that about you," he said as he pinched my toe. He was teasing me, but I didn't really feel like laughing.

"What about family legends."

I shrugged again, trying to pull my thoughts away from my dead family.

"Funny stories always told at Christmas or whatever?"

I frowned. "There's an old story about one of my ancestors being a magician... or wizard or whatever. Like the real kind." I paused, thinking of the last time I'd shared this story. "I told Isaac about it... he was very interested. Asked a lot of questions, but I couldn't answer any of them."

"What else do you know about this story?"

"Nothing. What I've shared is what I know." My dad used to tell the story to my friends to embarrass me. I'd done my best to block the memory.

Nik sighed and leaned back into the couch. As I shared this revelation, he'd been leaning forward, growing more interested with each word.

After a few silent minutes, he spoke: "I have an idea. Let's go check on your cat."

The two statements didn't seem to relate, but I chose not to ask. I was starting to figure Nik out—he shared what he wanted, when he felt like it, and not before. I could be patient, I told myself, not really believing the voice in my head. Before leaving, Nik poked his head into the common room. Josh was there, playing pool with the man who had brought my laundry.

Josh left his game to join us. "Where're we going?" he asked before noticing my shirt and laughing aloud. I looked at his shirt which said almost the same thing, though the lettering wasn't hot pink like mine. I'd never expected to see "Travel Size" on a guy's shirt. Still, it worked for him. Josh was barely taller than me, and at 5'4'' I was hardly a pro-basketball player. He wore the T-shirt well, in his own silly sort of way.

"We're going to Ash's place," Nik responded once we were finished with our mutual mirth. We followed Nik up to the restaurant. It was already full. From the darkness outside, I realized Nik had allowed me to sleep in. I held my breath as we weaved our way around the viewers. Was there ever a slow night? I figured Sunday night would be at least a little dull. At present, the main portion of the screen displayed an address from the president on the latest crisis. I guess that would draw a crowd. Every speaker I heard was tuned into that channel. I wondered why they even had the other ones on.

At the door, Nik spoke to one of the bouncers who nodded and disappeared. We moved to the curb and waited, rainwater pouring off the roof. I was glad of the wide eaves since I forgot to bring a coat. To my annoyance, Nik noticed and pulled his own leather jacket off. Damn gentleman. Of course, if Jordan had done the same thing I would have been proud of him. Even Isaac would have done so in a less condescending way; at least he would have before the whole bitey-turny episode.

"No thanks," I said, trying to keep my teeth from chattering. He didn't buy it. Instead, Nik draped the jacket over my shoulders. After a moment of nearly silent protest—not entirely silent, since I couldn't keep my teeth still—I slipped my arms into his long sleeves. I was tired of him taking care of me. I'd been taking care of myself for so long now. Maybe that's why Jordan's warnings against Isaac had bugged me so much.

After a short, cold wait, the bouncer returned with a sedate-looking, black sedan. We piled in, me in the passenger seat, Nik driving, and Josh resigned to the back. I thought about offering the front to Josh, but I imagined this car might be fancy enough to have heated front seats—hell if I'm gonna give up heated seats.

It didn't.

# Chapter Thirty-Five

Nik drove us to my apartment building and managed to get a parking spot on Capitol Way, in front of the neighboring inn. We jogged from the car to the door of my apartment, making sure to keep our speed within human ability. I passed them into my tiny apartment and began looking for Muffler. There weren't many places for him to hide and I quickly found him sleeping on my bed, tucked between two pillows. He stretched at his leisure, which meant it took a few minutes before he was willing to talk.

"So now you decide to grace me with your presence," he said in between yawns.

Josh stopped in the doorway, his eyes the size of grapefruits. He took two steps back onto the landing before realizing what he was doing. He froze and tried to put on a brave face—or at least a less shocked face. Nik smiled at him as he crossed to the bed, sat down, and began petting the talking cat.

"Uh... yeah, so... my cat talks... " I stuttered awkwardly.

Josh glanced at Nik, still not willing to reenter my apartment. I couldn't really blame him. Nik ignored him, continuing to scratch Muffler behind the ears, who purred violently.

"Sorry. I didn't realize you'd brought a new friend. It happens so rarely," he added as he shifted position to get Nik to scratch a better spot.

I rolled my eyes and checked on his food and water. "We're researching Ashley's past," Nik said to the cat as he dug into Muffler's thick, gray fur.

"To figure out why they're trying to sacrifice her?" he asked. All three of us turned our gaze on the animal. "What? I get around." His feline eyes flickered to the window I typically kept cracked open. I never realized he could get down to the ground from it, or back up for that matter. It was a wonder he hadn't been hit by a car yet.

"Yes," said Nik, recovering his senses first. "Do you have any ideas? Have you heard anything?"

Muffler looked up at him before ramming his head into Nik's motionless fingers. Nik returned to scratching the cat's head.

"Well, I've heard the Internet is mighty handy. But if you want something a little more old school," Muffler purred, trying to sound like a modern youth, and failing, "you could go see Faunus."

"The fae? We're trying to avoid the fae. Both summer and winter are trying to capture her," said Nik.

"Well, I'm sure you've heard the old adage that with great risk come great rewards... or some such nonsense. Faunus can look into anyone's past, seeing things long forgotten. Besides, Faunus has been known to deal with her enemies if the price is right. She loves favors."

"I'm not stupid enough to give a favor to a fae," Nik stated, unceremoniously dumping Muffler on the floor.

"How much do you want this information?" the cat asked as he jumped back on the bed, pointedly skirting around Nik to resettle near my pillows. It was funny to watch an ancient fae try to give offense in response to being kicked off a lap—very cat-like. I wondered how much he retained of his original identity and how much the years had transformed into the personality of a cat.

Nik let out a deep breath and looked at Josh then me. "What say you?"

"What sorta favor would she ask for?" I asked.

Nik shrugged. "Could be anything from an ice-cream cone to killing her fairy queen."

"I hate to be the Negative Nancy," Josh began. "But this won't exactly be safe for Ashley."

"Faunus has to be able to touch her for her magic to work," Nik said. Josh shrugged, glancing back at the door with the broken lock. My apartment wasn't exactly safe either. "We'll take her along, but keep her identity to ourselves. I doubt they've passed around her mug shot. Let's go. We'll offer Faunus one favor but under a few caveats."

I patted Muffler once and headed for the door. For a moment, I considered checking my phone messages, but I had a feeling I didn't want to hear what Jordan and Chloe had to say. I knew Jordan wouldn't have mentioned his encounter with us to Chloe, so she likely was worried about me. Oh well, whatever I did about them would have to wait until I dealt with the whole human sacrifice thing; I mean vampire sacrifice. Either way, it ended up with me dead. I shuddered and ran down the steps.

Nik drove us to the other side of I-5 and parked at the entrance to the watershed off of 22nd Ave. We tromped down the steep hill into the small valley where the city had kept some of Washington's natural forest, in that totally unnatural way humans do. Originally, it had been part of the city's waterworks, but in the 1950s they'd turned it into a park.

In the daylight, and without a drenching downpour, it was one of the most beautiful places I had ever seen; it surrounded you with enormous trees that grew at the very edge of the designated path where moss hung from the branches. The surroundings were eerie and mystical even before I knew mystical creatures existed.

I wasn't surprised that a fae would take up residence in the small forest, even if all of the fae I'd met had yet to live up to my expectations. I imagined fae to look like Tinkerbell. That tree thing I fought had not resembled any fairy my imagination could drum up.

My feet squished into the mud and the water soaked through my tennis shoes. We trekked through the forest for about ten minutes before Nik called us to a halt. By this time, I was soaked to the bone in any place his leather jacket didn't protect, though the water was beginning to drip past the jacket's collar and down my back. I had a feeling even the leather was not going to be enough if we stayed out much longer.

Just when I was about to make some sort of snarky comment—one which I had yet to think up—he took us off the path and into the brush. Normally in Olympia, these patches of forest are covered in a bed of blackberry bushes, but there were a few places in Watershed Park where hard work had kept them at bay, allowing for the more natural underbrush to thrive.

Nik brought us to a stop near an old shack that had probably once been a part of the waterworks. I thought about pointing out that there were many signs declaring this location to be off limits to pedestrians, but for once my better judgment set in; I kept my mouth shut. Nik didn't get too close to it. Instead, he stopped by a fallen tree that was well blanketed in moss before he called for the fae.

"Faunus?"

# Chapter Thirty-Six

A silence descended as we waited for the fae; even the dripping water seemed to be hushed in anticipation. I was ready to burst when a woman dressed in rags opened the creaking door. Inside the shack, I spotted bits of old piping, but I also noticed clay jars, a braided rug, and other homey objects. The woman's face was lined with deep wrinkles and bore the sign of exposure to the elements, though her eyes and mouth appeared too long and shapely for her round features.

She wore a pair of cotton knit pants over a pair of jeans, visible through worn holes on the knees. Though I couldn't see all the layers she wore, the bulk suggested they were many. Her hair was hidden by a filthy rag wrapped around her head and knotted at the base of her neck. I immediately recognized her as a fae. Like the others, something about her appearance looked off, unnatural. She glanced at Josh and me before her long mouth turned up into a smile.

"Nikolai," the woman said in a Celtic accent. A Russian name in a Celtic accent is rather funny sounding. Again, I was surprised. Nik had not mentioned knowing the fae when Muffler suggested us coming to her, though he had seemed rather knowledgeable about her abilities. "It's been a long time."

"Faunus," Nik repeated in way of a greeting. "May I introduce Josh and Ash?"

The old woman waved her hand as if to dismiss us. "What are you here for?"

"I was hoping to strike a bargain with you."

She hesitated a moment, her eyes narrowing as if she were calculating the risks while staring at Nikolai. Finally, she nodded slowly and turned to her shack. She opened the door and waved us in. I followed the others into the shack, expecting to be stuck in the doorway. There was no way all four of us could fit inside that building. To my astonishment, there was room to spare. I wanted to go back outside and walk around the perimeter of her home. Had I been mistaken about the size?

Josh and I stayed near the door while Nik strolled further in, standing near a small fire pit made out of stone that had not been original to the building. I looked up but couldn't see any hole in the roof to let the smoke out; nevertheless, the room did not fill with the toxic fumes. The woman stopped on the other side of the fire and turned to stare at Nik.

"Now, what is it you want from me?" she asked.

"I need you to look into this girl's past. People are hunting her," he said, leaving out the fact that some of those people were her superiors. "And I need to know why."

"I see," murmured the old woman. Something about her appearance changed: her skin suddenly seemed to melt from her body, the ragged clothing dripping from her to transform her shape from large and bulky to tiny and half covered in fur. I blinked a couple of times, but before I could figure out what was happening, a totally different person stood before us. My eyes went wide as I stared at what once had been an ugly, slightly weird looking homeless woman. Now stood a short half human, half deer-like creature. I wracked my brain for the right word. I think she was a faun.

Faun. Faunus. Duh, Ashley.

She stood about four feet tall, with legs that bent in the wrong direction; they were covered in dark brown fur. The hair on her head draped down her back in waves that were a shade redder than the fur on her legs. Two brown horns wrapped delicately around her head creating a kind of natural crown. She wore a small doeskin vest and a few silver rings; from her hair hung copper and silver baubles. The room filled with a subtle, gamey scent. It reminded me vaguely of the bleeding werewolves.

She stepped up to Nik, her tiny hooves clattering against the concrete floor.

"Now, Nikolai, what would you trade me in exchange for providing you information about this girl?" she asked, waving a tiny hand in my direction. Her green eyes flashed toward me, mischief pulsing out of every fleck of color. I smiled at her; I couldn't help it.

"I will offer you a favor, to be completed once she is safe." Nik paused. "And to include no killing of innocents."

The fae considered his offer for a moment before nodding. "Agreed. Come here, child," she said, addressing me.

I glanced at Nik, who nodded, and I stepped to the faun's side. She held out her hand, waiting for me to place my fingers in hers. I'm the monster now, I told myself as I relinquished my hand to her. Faunus hissed and jerked her fingers away from mine as though I had burned her. She clenched them to her chest and glared up at me. Nik was across the small fire and at my side in a moment, his hands resting on my shoulders, ready to pull me to safety should it be required.

"What's wrong?"

"I cannot look into her past," Faunus announced, still rubbing her fingers. "She is of my blood."

"Wait... what?" I asked, totally confused. I sure didn't look like I was a descendant of hers. Though I occasionally went without shaving my legs—due to epic laziness and a lack of a love life—they still never grew fur!

"That can't be," argued Nik at the same moment. "She's a vampire. Fae can't be turned."

"She is not fae, or at least, not fae enough to keep from turning. But one of her distant ancestors was fae and part of my lineage."

"You can breed with a fae?" I asked, barely letting her finish.

"Humans can. So you can't tell me about her past?" Nik asked, turning his attention back to Faunus. I could see the frustration and anger building, as yet another plan failed before it even began.

She shook her head, the baubles clicking musically in her hair. "No. My family is my weakness. I am blind to them."

Nik let out a long, frustrated sigh. I knew this meant we were pretty much back to square one.

"I should take her myself," the fae suddenly said in a low voice; the walls vibrated with a surge of angry power while her vibrant eyes shown with the mischief I had previously glimpsed. "You dare bring such a temptation into my home, Nikolai?" she asked, her Celtic accent thickening with each word.

"What do you mean?" Nik asked, trying to sound as if he was confused, but I knew better. Everyone knew what was going on. Faunus had guessed my identity, and she knew her queen was searching for me, and I knew this had been a stupid idea.

"She is the one my queen wants," said Faunus. "She is the prize." The short fae stepped in front of me until I could have kicked her in the shins. I felt Nik tense beside me. "But you are my kin. I will not do something that might harm one of my own. And thankfully I am not prone to do as my queen bids. She is too reckless for my taste. Perhaps this will teach her.

"Take her, Nikolai, before I change my mind. And remember, though I did not succeed, you still owe me a favor."

Nik had me out the door and back on the path before a human could have blinked. I glanced back, but the faun had already transformed into her human glamor. We hiked at a more casual pace back to the car. Inside, I turned the heat up and stripped out of the dripping leather jacket. I'd dry faster without it. We all sat in the car listening to the rain gently pelting the car. None of us had the courage to comment on our lack of motion; Nik was gripping the steering wheel as if he intended to tear it off the dashboard.

"Sooo... " Josh eventually sighed from the back seat. "A fae vamp. Don't see that every day."

I felt one corner of my lips tweak up into the beginnings of a smile. Leave it to Josh to make a joke out of our predicament. I counted to twenty before speaking. "So what's next, Nik?"

"I don't know," he growled, his hands twisting around the steering wheel, making a squeaking noise.

I stared at him, a little shocked. Nik had always known the next step; I'd never seen him without a plan B, and I didn't know what to say or how to fix the situation. Thankfully, I wasn't the only one in the car.

"Anyone want to hear my idea?" Josh asked from the back seat.

"No!" barked Nik as he twisted the key in the ignition, nearly snapping it in half.

I gently placed my hand on his extended arm. "It won't hurt to listen." I waited until Nik took a deep breath and began backing the car out of the small, flat parking area before turning in my seat to look at Josh.

"Let's go back to Helen. We have a little bit more information now. If we catch her at the school she might even do a spell to help."

"Which one's Helen again?" I asked.

"The witch we visited before. But she didn't know anything," Nik responded in a sullen voice as if he knew that Josh's notion was the best option we had.

"That could have changed. After all, we've learned a few new things," repeated Josh. I clamped my mouth shut. As much as I wanted to support Josh, I knew he'd have more persuasive power without me adding my voice into the mix.

"Fine," Nik spat, slamming his foot on the gas and careening down the quiet, residential street. I glanced at the clock, which glowed a faint blue and announced the time to be 4:13 A.M. in the morning. I wondered, without verbalizing my thoughts, how many people Nik had woken up with the roaring of his engine. Of course, what man thinks of things like that when he's angry and has a fast car at his disposal?

# Chapter Thirty-Seven

Nik drove us into Lacey using the main roads, which were just beginning to show signs of life. As we turned off Martin Way, I spotted a tired-looking man walking from his car to Jack in the Box, no doubt stuck prepping the restaurant for the breakfast rush. Nik pulled the car into the parking lot of North Thurston High School—my rivals from when I was in school, not that I played sports or anything. I was more of a speech and debate sort of girl.

_It's a wonder I had any friends,_ I thought absently as Nik parked the car.

"We'll have to wait for her to get here," he said waving casually at the clock, which now read 4:59 A.M. Nik dug his cell phone out of his pocket.

"I take it she's a teacher?" I asked.

Nik nodded. I looked out the window and up at the black sky. I didn't see any stars, but that could simply be due to the amount of artificial light in the school's parking lot. A second later, Nik interrupted my perusal of the sky to show me the screen of his phone. It showed the weather forecast for the day—rainy with a chance of showers, a cartoon sun covered by angry clouds. "Sun doesn't rise until about eight, even if she doesn't arrive until right before school starts, we should be fine."

Thankfully, we didn't have to wait three hours for her to arrive. The woman appeared shortly after six A.M., a spring her step despite the early hour. We waited for her to make it safely into the large building before getting out of the car, and stalking her into the school. Nik took the lead and directed us to her classroom as if he visited her twice a week.

The room we found her in was like most American classrooms, one wall lined with blackboards, another with whiteboards. Above the blackboards was a shelf which held what looked like theater set designs made out of construction paper and cardboard. The center of the room was filled with small, institutional-looking desks attached to chairs, while the back of the room held a bedraggled couch and a large bookcase full to the point of overflowing. Near the front sat an outdated overhead projector—the kind that used transparencies rather than computers. The back wall, where the couch sat, held a collage that was clearly the result of many years and many classes. Though the wall had been painted a calming tan, it was now covered with photographs, theater programs, news articles, drawings, and even a stained man's tunic that had been attached with push pins. I wanted to approach the mural and take a closer look at the many pieces.

Instead, I turned my attention to the woman staring at us from behind the cluttered desk tucked away into the far corner. Though not wearing a bathrobe, she was easily recognizable as the woman we had visited at her house on Thursday. She stared at us for a moment, her shoulders tense, and her eyes understandably wary. I wanted to comfort her, but I didn't know how. I had no idea what Nik intended to say or do, and I wouldn't lie to the woman.

"So, she's still alive, eh?" the woman asked, hitching a leg on the corner of her desk and taking on a decidedly relaxed pose. I knew not to believe it. I could hear her racing heart and smell her fear. It made me thirsty.

"Yes, and we were hoping you had come up with some more information," Nik said in a surprisingly gracious voice. He usually just demanded things.

"I'm afraid not. Have you learned anything that might give me a starting place?"

"We spoke with Fanaus. Turns out Ashley is a descendent."

"You visited the fae?" Helen asked with a "you're crazy" sort of smirk.

"Yes, but she was unable to tell us about Ashley's past."

Helen nodded. "Of course." The wizard paused, her fine brows puckered in thought. "Fine, I'll try something, if only to get you to leave me alone. Move the projector away," she ordered. Josh jumped forward to obey and rolled the rickety contraption to the far wall. I vaguely remembered Nik saying magic and technology didn't mix well. "Though we'll have to be quick about it," she added, glancing at the clock.

There was nothing quick about her proceedings. It took her nearly forty-five minutes to prepare her spell. When I asked about the slow progress, she laughed. "My magic is not like that of the fae. It takes well laid out plans, preparation, and concentration."

Helen opened a large, locked drawer in her desk and pulled out what looked like an old fondue pot, lit the kerosene burner underneath it, and began plopping ingredients into the pot. The blob of stuff quickly began to bubble and put out a strangely compelling odor. When it was boiling to Helen's satisfaction, she looked at me and eyed my ring. I began to twitch as my spine tingled under her intense gaze.

"Is that ring of importance to you?" she asked, her eyes flickering to the two men flanking me.

I drew in a slow breath so that I could speak; suddenly realizing I'd been holding it. Thankfully, the odor of the mixture hid some of the human's smell.

"It was my mother's. I inherited it when she died," I answered, my left hand going automatically to the ring on my right.

"How long ago was that?"

"Almost seven years," I answered through clenched teeth. What did she want with my mother's wedding ring?

"Good. Let me see it." Helen held out her hand and waited. When I didn't immediately offer her my mother's ring she sighed. "You'll get it back. I need something of yours that you treasure. It being your mother's adds to the needed effect as part of your heritage."

I hesitated for another second before pulling the small diamond ring off and cringed as she dropped it into the brown mixture. She gave it one quick stir before closing her eyes and focusing, her head bent over it. To my surprise, there was no chanting or humming. Just simple concentration. I quickly got bored, tired, and thirsty. I went back to the mural and used it as a distraction from her now slow and steady heartbeat.

"There was power in your line," Helen finally said in a soft voice. I turned back to watch her. "I can feel the faintest ripple, so it must have been a long time ago." The wizard hesitated, her brows furrowing in concentration, though she kept her eyes shut. "I see the sun. It should hurt... it doesn't." Helen began panting, her shoulders hunching forward as if to protect herself. "Why doesn't it hurt?"

Helen's eyes flashed opened and trained on me. They looked different. It took me a moment to realize the pupils were too big for the bright fluorescent lights illuminating the classroom.

"You took that power from me! You made me fear the sun!" Her voice was harsh like gravel rubbed against the road. She prowled toward me, as though preparing to attack. After a few steps, she jerked upright, her pupils returning to their right size. She blinked a few times and took stock of our surprised faces around her.

"Daywalker," Nik stated. His mouth clamped shut in anger, his eyes fixing on the small fondue pot. I could tell he wasn't breathing, and that his shoulders had gone unusually stiff.

The term "daywalker" was pretty self-explanatory. Since being turned, I'd never imagined there was a chance of being able to walk in the sun again. Sure, the vampires in my books had ways around that detail, but I hadn't gotten anything right, so why would this be any different? It was a pleasant surprise that there was a chance of sunbathing again.

"I must say, I'd rather not see them succeed," was Helen's parting phrase. It was a command more than anything else. She returned to her desk and began cleaning up. Once Helen had returned my ring, freshly cleaned, Nik took me by the arm and pulled me out of the classroom while Josh silently followed.

A few teachers were beginning to arrive. They stared, their expressions confused, but didn't stop us. I contemplated my many questions as we crossed the wet parking lot and climbed into the car.

Finally, I quietly asked, "I take it 'daywalker' is pretty self-explanatory?"

There was a pause. Finally, Josh spoke from his seat in the back. "A daywalker is a vampire who's not hurt by the sun," Josh stated, confirming my suspicions. The mood of the car changed subtly. I couldn't tell how it had changed, but something was different.

I wondered if this was something they were in favor of? The wizard obviously wasn't, but I wasn't exactly sure why. If Nik and Josh were in favor of becoming daywalkers, would they be willing to sacrifice me for the ability? I glanced at Nik. The concept sounded nice—being able to live normal lives out in the sun, but I had quickly learned that most "nice" things within the mystic world came with a hefty price. Was my death that price? If so, my enthusiasm for the project would take a distinct hit.

Before I could summon the courage to ask them the other million questions bouncing around my brain, we pulled to a stop in front of the bar. I jumped out, eager to get inside and away from the rising sun. Josh and Nik followed at a more sedate pace. I had taken only a few steps when one of the early morning pedestrians grabbed me by the arm, twisting it up behind my back. Without giving it another thought, I attempted to wrench myself free. To my astonishment, whatever held me was far stronger than myself—preternatural strong. Other supposed pedestrians sprang into action. A man in a secondhand, outdated business suit and a hippie jumped at Josh. He ducked out of their grasp, trying to make it to my side. At the same instant, a passing car veered in our direction, crushing one of Nik's arms as he tried to dodge out of the way.

It was late enough in the morning to expect humans about. Surprisingly, no one appeared. Even those that owned the nearby shops were late to work. A few other attackers had already joined the fight after jumping out of the car that had tried to smash Nik. Three went for Nik, who was swinging at them with his one good arm, while the driver went to help the man struggling with me.

In a last ditch attempt, I bent forward and flung my attacker over my back—straight into the enormous, tinted window. It shattered around him, bits of glass cutting into his flesh while other pieces tinkled to the ground. Surely someone downstairs would have heard that. I jumped forward as fast as my weary body could and tried to drive more shards of glass into his body, but the sun was rising, turning the dark gray clouds into a white sheet over our heads. I felt weak and slow, like a human with mono. The driver reached me, pulling me off his friend and flinging me with extra force toward our parked car. I smashed into the passenger window butt first—the glass scrapping my thighs and lower back.

Before I could start wiggling free from the window, the front door of the bar burst open and a flow of angry vampires emerged.

A word to the wise: Don't break the window belonging to a vampire, be it with a baseball or a body.

Our attackers quickly dove for their car, with only three of them making it in before the driver took off—leaving six to scamper away by foot. I noticed one of Mikhail's men grab hold of our nearest attacker, while the others managed to escape, though where they would go until sunset, I couldn't imagine.

Two pairs of hands took me by the arms and yanked me free from the grasp of the broken car window. When I reached the pavement, I tottered for a moment, but flatly refused the strange vampire who tried to pick me up. I'd had enough of that! I looked up to see that my present savior was Samuel, the older-looking vampire that ranked just below Nik. The clear voice of Mikhail took order amongst the growing throng of agitated voices. Samuel guided me down into the darkness of the concrete bunker and into the common room.

The throng followed us, filling the room to the very brim. I searched for Josh and Nik, feeling uncomfortable next to Nik's frenemy. Other than Samuel, those around me appeared to be complete strangers. I hadn't had time to meet anyone else in the seethe. A blood bag was placed in my hand by an unknown pair of hands. I noticed other vampires drinking straight from the tap—human arms to be precise. I was glad to have a distraction.

I sipped on it absently while searching the mob and trying to ignore the discomfort in my lacerated legs. Being short, I had little hope of spotting Nik and no hope at all of seeing Josh, who was just as short as me. Just when I was about to give up and head to Nik's room, Mikhail spoke in a loud clear voice, trying to clear the mob. I stayed my ground, Samuel remaining close to me, while others milled toward the double doors. I heard snippets of conversation and noticed many glances in my direction.

"It used to be peaceful," one person stated.

"... She came along... " another whispered before his eyes flickered in my direction. I noticed them clamp their mouths shut, and scurry toward the doors.

I closed my eyes and ears to what was going on around me until the thud of the doors shutting broke into my special place. The room was comparatively empty, though nearly twenty people still loitered around the groups of couches. Maybe they were high ranking enough to get away with it. Mikhail was near one of the pool tables. I spotted Nik making his way through the small crowd, Josh close on his heels. One of Nik's arms hung uselessly at his side, obviously still in the process of healing after being crushed between two cars. I handed him my half-finished blood bag. He took it with a nod of thanks and finished it in one quick slurp while Samuel bowed formally before carefully putting some distance between him and Nik.

"What was that about?" Mikhail snapped, rounding on the three of us.

"I'd guess Richard's lowlifes," Nik responded, "but they're not the real issue. We saw Helen and learned that all this has to do with the creation of daywalkers."

Mikhail waved his hand to dismiss the notion. "Daywalkers are a thing of myths."

"Says the vampire," I mumbled from my place beside Nik. Mikhail glared at me and I flinched, as was appropriate. It's amazing how much more scary a glare is when you know the person behind it has true power and authority.

"Daywalkers do not exist. They never have, never will."

"Actually... " said a voice from deep within the crowd milling about the room and gossiping.

# Chapter Thirty-Eight

We all turned to stare at the stranger.

A tall, thin man dressed in slim black pants, a black turtleneck, and black sports jacket—overall giving him the appearance of the early 1960s—stepped out into a clear area of the room. The darkness of his outfit made his transparent skin and startling blond hair more pronounced. At a glance, I could tell he was a fae. It was so obvious now that I was "in-the-know," but I wondered how many times I'd missed the telltale signs when I'd been human. How many fae walked amongst us? "Daywalkers have existed, though the power to make them is long gone," he continued.

"And who are you?" snapped Mikhail his eyes bulging in shock and... could it be fear? The wary readiness of the other vampires and the stranger's general appearance suggested he was not an invited guest. How had someone infiltrated the seethe? I suddenly felt the first trickle of fear run down my spine.

"I believe you know me as Periphetes," he said with the faintest hint of a French accent.

I vaguely recognized him from the security photo, though he wasn't wearing his fancy, magical eye patch. It took the crowd a moment to register his words. Nik had realized a true enemy stood in our midst. He was hunkered down into what I was beginning to recognize as his ready-to-fight pose. Josh and the rest of the seethe were a mere breath behind him. The fae very slowly, as if to be sure no one attacked out of fright, moved toward Mikhail, a slight limp slowing his progress. I wondered what was powerful enough to leave a fae limping, but decided I was safer not knowing.

"And you are Mikhail, the primus of this seethe."

It wasn't a question.

Mikhail appeared to be the only one not preparing for an attack. Of course, I was certain his relaxed pose was nothing but a ruse. Despite the fact Mikhail was powerful enough to survive at least three centuries, he knew when to be afraid. Plus Mikhail had enough sense to realize anyone who could sneak into his guarded fortress was to be treated cautiously. Yes, definitely a ruse.

He leaned against the pool table, the only sign of his tension found in the way he folded his arms. Mikhail waited in silence, no doubt a power play, forcing his enemy to be the first to break the silence.

Periphetes turned in a slow circle, eying the twenty or so vampires surrounding him. I stayed behind Nik and Josh, not really wanting to draw anyone's attentions. The strategy failed. He stopped and stared at the three of us before taking a subtle sniff of the air. Whatever he smelled made him cock his head in a wild animal sort of way.

"And what makes her so valuable?" When no one answered, he waved his hand in my direction and continued, "You have two guarding her as if their lives depend on it; as if she would be my first target? If I were to attack."

The tension in the room jumped to red on the scale.

In a relaxed tone, Mikhail answered, "She is new to our family. The young are always in need of our protection."

Periphetes smiled at me, causing another shiver to run down my spine. I absently noticed the cooling temperature in the room. Considering how this man's house was defended, it didn't surprise me.

"And yet you sent her to steal my dagger?"

Another tick on the tension-o-meter.

The fae fanned the air with his hands in a "calm down" gesture. "I'm hardly here to exact my revenge. If I was, do you think I'd stop to have a conversation? I simply want to know why you wanted the blade so badly. The blood staining my house would suggest you fought valiantly for it."

No one answered.

"Please," sighed the fae, his breath coming out in a sort of freezing mist. "I know your reputation, Mikhail; you don't go around trying to enrage the fae lords without a reason. Now, I have a pretty good notion... " And for the first time, a hint of angry concern peeked through his calm façade. "Mikhail, tell me the truth, are you trying to make daywalkers?"

The shock that flitted across Mikhail's youthful face was the best answer he could have given. "I didn't even know daywalkers could exist."

"And yet you stole Veneno from me."

"We recovered many items from your house for a friend who has taken an interest in Charles V. The two incidents are not related." Nik stood up, abandoning his defensive posture. Evidently, he believed Periphetes' declaration of peace; though, I noticed he stayed between me and the stranger. Other vampires took their cue from Nik and began to relax.

Periphetes turned to look at him. "Oh, young Nikolai, they are far more related than you realize."

"Leave us," ordered Mikhail, glancing at the observers. I tried to turn toward the door but Nik grabbed my arm. A moment later, the large room was empty of everyone but the fae, Mikhail, Nik, Samuel—who I assumed was high enough in the ranks to be allowed to stay, despite the direct order—Josh, and myself. Mikhail escorted our guest to a couch and took a seat, while Nik led me to another sofa in the same grouping. Samuel was presumptuous enough to sit down on my other side. Josh followed, taking up a perch on the armrest.

"Please, explain," Mikhail said in a deferential tone. I was beginning to wonder just how powerful this fae lord really was. Considering the wounds we'd received from his house, it seemed safe to presume he was hella dangerous.

"First," Periphetes said, holding up a hand. "Do you have the dagger?"

"No. What's so important about this dagger? It was hardly the prize of that collection," challenged Nik.

"Not good," Periphetes sighed, his thin shoulders slumping forward. After a second's hesitation, he went on. "Veneno was used in a ritual to entrap Sedgrave, the last sorcerer who had the power to create daywalkers. If someone figured out how to free him, they would require the blade."

Nik slouched forward, covering his face in his hands and resting his elbows on his knees. His hands shook as they slid up his face to tangle in his hair. I watched him, wondering why his reaction was so strong.

_Oh well,_ I thought. _It serves him right. After all, he was the one stupid enough to steal that dagger for Emma in the first place, and from a seriously powerful_ fae _too!_

"So... what's the big deal?" Samuel asked. The other three glared at him. He shrugged and continued, "I mean I would like to go out during the day. What's the big deal if someone succeeds in raising this... this Sedgrave?"

I raised my hand. "Is that why they want me?" I asked before clamping my hand over my mouth. I had a feeling my involvement in the situation was still intended as a secret.

"We don't know that for sure," offered Nik. It sounded like a lie.

"Ah, so she is important," Periphetes said, his ice-blue eyes twinkling.

Knowing I'd just blown my cover—good job, Ashley—we spent the next twenty minutes telling the story of my first week as a vampire. By the time we finished, I was struggling to stay awake; after all, it wasn't very exciting to those who had already lived it. Nik had to shake me. I blinked the sleepiness away, trying to force my eyes to focus. The fae looked as though he was thinking deeply.

Mikhail eyed me a moment before calling out someone's name. A hidden door in the far corner opened and a human stepped through, his shirt sleeves conveniently rolled up. When he reached us, Mikhail waved him in my direction. He held out his wrist, which showed signs of previous gnawing. I clamped my lips shut and held my breath. I could hear the man's heartbeat. It called to me, a soft but persistent sound in my ears. I shook my head and whispered, "I don't have good control. I'd kill him."

"Niiiiik," growled Mikhail, but he didn't argue and the man went away. Once he was gone, I could think again. Periphetes was watching me with humor in his eyes. I felt like a sideshow freak when I realized he wasn't the only one watching me.

"So, young lady, you are Ailmer Hawnly's descendent? Yes, even after all these generations, I can see him in you. No wonder Richard and the queens have been after you with such a vengeance."

"Hey, this means it wasn't my cat's issues rubbing off on me," I stated as the thought came to me. It resulted in another ten minutes of explanation. Periphetes and Mikhail were rather confused by my talking cat. Periphetes smiled as he recalled Tereus, the fae my cat had once been. Evidently, they had known each other long before any of us had been alive, even Mikhail.

"Quite the rascal," commented Periphetes. "Still, Tereus is not our issue. Sedgrave and Hawnly's descendant are," he added, pointing at me.

"Who is Ailmer Hawnly?" I asked.

"He was a wizard, the child of a fae and a human, and thus he was very powerful even before he became a wizard. Ailmer contrived a way to destroy Sedgrave—the sorcerer who could make daywalkers—since mere death would not touch the sorcerer. Obviously, the vampires were fans of Sedgrave and his work. When the vampires found out about Ailmer's plans, they turned him, thinking it would take his powers and be a more fitting punishment than death. And to an extent, it worked. Sort of poetic, don't you think?

"But Ailmer was a man of honor. He knew what needed to be done. He turned the spell into a ritual. Ritualistic magic, which can be done by just about anyone even if they don't have the innate talent for magic, is very powerful when done correctly. When done incorrectly it results in mayhem and destruction. Ailmer, having been a wizard for decades, was very good at focusing, planning, preparing—all the things needed to succeed in ritualistic magic. In the end, the ritual required him to sacrifice himself. He died to trap Sedgrave."

"Wait, let me get this straight," I began. "Ailmer, my ancestor, the product of a fae and a human, was turned into a vampire to take away his fae and wizard powers. So he did a ritual, sacrificing his vampire self, and therefore trapped the bad guy who could make daywalkers... and that's why they turned me?"

"They turned you because it needs to be a vampire sacrifice to free Sedgrave. Just as it was a vampire sacrifice that trapped him."

"So I would die... " my voice trailed off.

"That is the story."

"Is there any way to wake Sedgrave without killing Ashley?" Samuel asked, as though he didn't really care whether I died or not. Everyone looked at him with varying levels of disgust. I can only guess what my face looked like. "Other than the whole Ashley-would-be-dead thing, no one has told me why Sedgrave coming back would be so bad. Or why Ailmer thought it so important to destroy him."

Periphetes sighed, his breath coming out in frozen wisps. "Sedgrave could do a lot more than make daywalkers. That was just a side trick. He had the ability to make anyone love him to the point of being willing to die for him."

Maybe I was just tired, but I couldn't figure out why that was so bad. It didn't seem so far away from what vampires did to their humans, or what a primus did to his seethe. I blinked, trying to stay awake. Josh asked my question for me, speaking for the first time. "That doesn't sound too horrid."

"Do you really think Charles the Fifth became so powerful on his own?" Periphetes asked. I was confused; the better-educated men understood. I couldn't remember who Charles the Fifth was or what he had done. I knew he was the guy who had once possessed all the stuff we stole for Emma, but that was about it. My brain was just barely functioning enough to even make that connection.

"He didn't become emperor over so many countries purely by accident or hereditary rights. Sedgrave was at his side throughout most of his life. The love and devotion inspired by Sedgrave caused people to kill for him. Those who should have inherited died at young ages before they could produce an heir of their own, creating room for Charles. I could spend the next couple days telling you how Sedgrave impacted the power structure of the sixteenth century. Imagine that sort of power in this time. Presidents and such at his disposal. Public opinion in his favor. Imagine him appearing on TV and the whole world being affected by his charisma. It would destroy society as we know it."

I glanced up at Josh. "Wow, looks like we really screwed the pooch," he said in a humorless voice.

Periphetes nodded. "So who has the dagger?"

"Emma Tanner. She's the primus of the Gresham Seethe, near Portland."

Everyone's faces contorted into frowns, trying to make the connection between Emma and the present trouble in Olympia. Finally, I spoke up. "Could Emma be working with Richard or one of the queens?"

"No. If she were, I would know about it," murmured Nik.

"I realize I don't know her like you do," I paused, letting the insinuation set in. "But she seems the type to consider the end, not the means. If she wants to be a daywalker, I doubt anything would stop her, even hooking up with a prick like Richard."

Nik didn't respond.

# Chapter Thirty-Nine

I woke the next night, my mind a complete blank. I'd slipped into unconsciousness so slowly that I couldn't exactly pinpoint my last waking memory. Enjoying the luxury of Nik's bed, I blinked a few times before sitting up and looking around me. In a swift motion, I jerked the blankets back up to my chin, though I was perfectly decent in a long, black T-shirt and pajama pants. But it's hard to feel decent when a fae is watching you sleep.

Periphetes smiled, his visible breath cooling the room. He shifted his stance, slowly crossing his arms over his narrow chest. His frosty eyes slid over me and assessed the room.

"So, you stay in his room." He glanced at the couch, covered in Nik's blanket and pillow. "But don't share his bed. Has anyone ever told you, you are a strange girl?"

"All the time. Has anyone ever told you it's not polite to sneak in and watch someone sleep?"

The fae smiled. "You do not have a room of your own." It was a statement, and yet a question at the same time.

"No, I'm pretty new to the seethe. Actually, I don't think I'm technically part of the seethe yet."

"You know, you don't have to join the seethe or any seethe for that matter."

"Really?" I asked, my interest piqued. Thus far, seethe life had not been exactly roses and pearls.

"Filling her head with lies?" Nik asked from the doorway. I had completely missed his entrance. I pulled the blanket a little closer to my chin.

"They're not lies, Nikolai Krasniy. And you know perfectly well I cannot lie."

"Technically, but you lead false trails." Nik turned to me. "He forgets to mention the death rate of vampires who live outside the protection of a seethe."

I didn't respond. It was something to think about, but not something to discuss with Nik or Periphetes. I watched the two men as they stared each other down. Finally, Nik stepped aside and motioned toward the door. He made it look more like boredom than a concession.

"Unless you have further business with us," hinted Nik.

Periphetes smiled, bowed to me, and slipped out of the room, his limp so slight I wondered if I had imagined it the previous morning.

"What did you two talk about?" Nik demanded.

"Nothing really. I'd just woken up when you came in. What was he doing here?"

Nik sighed and stared at the closed door. "Probably just wanting to rattle the cage. He's a trouble maker. Though it's clear he wanted to talk to you alone about something."

I suddenly felt the weight of Nik's presence all the more. No doubt, he would not be letting me out of his sight for a while. I tried to think back to my last day of freedom. It had been nearly a week since I was turned. When I wrote about vampires, their lives consisted of free will, parties, and love affairs. So far, my existence as a vampire included death, faeries, and schedules.

"So what's the plan?" I asked, once again trying to remember what all had happened last night.

"Let's start with you getting dressed. Meet me in the hall. We're going to do a little grave robbing."

Nik left the room, silently closing the door behind him. Before I could even reach the edge of his enormous bed, the door swung back open to reveal Josh, dressed in khaki shorts and a "Halo" T-shirt. Though born in the early fifties, Josh did a good job of fitting in with modern society. Nik, not so much.

"Nik is right, you know," he said after closing the door

"Oh, my gosh, you guys are the worst eavesdroppers."

"Or are we the best?" he asked with an impish smile. I tried to ignore him, in no mood to play games.

"So was there a point to your spying on me?"

Josh sighed and stepped further into the room. "I know you don't get along with Nik, but in this instance, he is absolutely right. To live outside the protection of a seethe is paramount to death. Only the very old manage it."

"How old? Like Mikhail and Nik?"

"Older. A lot older. All I'm saying is don't do anything rash. Life in the seethe is not normally like this. In fact, in my half century, I've never seen this much action. It's kinda fun!"

I was so annoyed with his final statement that I threw a pillow at him. He ducked out of the way, leaving it to fly into one of the glass vases sitting on the dresser, which conveniently shattered. We froze in our spots, waiting for Nik's wrath. Sure enough, he burst through the door a moment later, his eyes picking out the broken vase.

A tiny giggle escaped my lips. I felt like a child, preparing for a spanking. I wasn't exactly wrong. Nik turned on me, his eyes bright with anger, while I stifled the next sputter of laughter and tried to look sorry. He turned his burning gaze on Josh.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to talk to her."

Nik looked back at me. "And in the process, you found it necessary to break my things?"

"If I had a room of my own, this wouldn't have happened," I pointed out. Big mistake.

"Not until you prove you won't run away," he said between clenched teeth. Josh slipped out quietly while I distracted Nik. I couldn't blame him; I would have done the same thing had I had the chance.

"What am I, your prisoner?"

"A little bit. Yeah!" Nik paused. He swallowed, waiting for my wrath. I was too shocked to respond. "Finish getting dressed and meet us in the hall. We've wasted enough time."

He stalked out of the room and banged the door shut. I stared at the shivering door, too surprised to move. I was his prisoner? He did keep me close and he had been angry when I had escaped. But as I thought about it, I realized it had more to do with my safety than any possessiveness on his side. Nik wanted to keep me safe. His harsh words had been a matter of an angry moment, nothing more. Besides, I was the one who had smashed his vase. Maybe I deserved some of his wrath. Emphasis on the "some."

I heaved a sigh, trying to relinquish the last feelings of frustration, before moving to my duffel bag. I tugged on a pair of jeans and one of my work-out sweatshirts. If we were grave digging, I didn't want to wear anything too ostentatious.

Sure enough, Josh, Nik, and Periphetes were waiting in the hallway. "Miss Ashley," said the fae as he bowed slightly and smiled at me. I smiled back. It was impossible to be annoyed at his strange version of chivalry. His manners made me feel special and his smile was infectious.

"So, I hear we're grave robbing tonight?" I said, trying to sound nonchalant.

Periphetes laughed good-naturedly, his light blue eyes softening even further while his frozen breath made him look like an albino superman. It was a strange trait of the winter fae. I couldn't help but wonder if summer fae always had a sunburn. Periphetes took my hand, looped it around his cold arm, and led me toward the side exit. Nik and Josh followed.

When they reached the door, Nik silently took the lead, heading straight for the driver's seat while Periphetes kindly escorted me to the front seat, where he opened the door and handed me in. I felt like I belonged in a Jane Austen book, and I gotta admit I liked it. All girls like to be treated like a fancy lady once in a while. Josh and Periphetes climbed into the back seat just as Nik began to rev the engine.

He drove us into Tumwater, to the Odd Fellows Cemetery. Odd Fellows was a historical fraternity that did good things for hurting people, like widows and orphans. The cemetery itself had been built in the late 1800s—one of the oldest landmarks in the greater Olympia area. I was sure we would find some really old dead people here. Nik parked on the side of the street and got out, still not looking at me. Before I could finish unbuckling, Periphetes was opening my door. He took my hand and helped me out of the car. I didn't have the nerve to tell him his hand actually made it harder to get out. What notions men have!

In the meantime, Josh pulled the two shovels out of the trunk. I glanced around, hoping no one would notice us and the shovels. I figured it would be an odd sight, no pun intended. We headed into the cemetery, the tombstones black against the moonlit sky. This would have been creepy before I knew things like faeries, wizards, and vampires actually existed. Now it was the thing of my worst nightmares. I walked close to Periphetes, occasionally bumping into him which brought the corners of his thin lips up into a smile. After a short search, Nik stopped at a tall stone with the name Virginia Chambers written on it.

I peeked over my shoulder, feeling as if someone were watching us. To my astonishment, I spotted a woman standing just a few feet away, her long skirt flowing to the ground and the sleeves of her blouse puffed up. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun and covered with a stiff straw hat lined with very fake flowers. The high neck of her blouse was trimmed with nothing but a delicate brooch.

I thought it strange to see a woman in a costume wandering through a graveyard in the middle of the night. I blinked furiously when her image thinned and blurred, thinking my eyes were freaking out. Her image continued to waver like a mirage. She smiled daintily at me, picked up her skirts, and turned to walk away.

"Um... guys?" When they looked at me, I pointed at the departing figure.

"What?" asked Josh. "Did you really expect to go to a graveyard and not see a ghost?"

"A ghost? We can see ghosts?"

"Well yeah. You're dead. Of course, you can see ghosts."

"Riiight." I glanced up at Periphetes. He was still staring in the direction I'd pointed.

When he noticed my attention he smiled and said, "No, I don't see a ghost. Fae only see certain ghosts and only occasionally. Was it scary?"

I shook my head. "Just a woman who looked like she came out of an 'Anne of Green Gables' novel." Josh looked at me in confusion. Nik's expression suggested he'd already read the Anne series. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised. "Never mind. So is this the grave we're diggin' up?" I glanced at the plot, thinking the grass looked a little off compared to the walkway.

"Yes," said Nik in a dark voice. He took one of the shovels from Josh and began digging. Josh joined him, leaving the fae and me to watch.

I will say this: Vampires dig quickly. After less than an hour of watching, which brought me to rest against a neighboring tombstone and caused Periphetes to start pacing, Nik and Josh reached the coffin. They brushed away the dirt to reveal an elegant wooden box that showed signs of once being painted white. Near the top, the wood was cut out and lined with glass to create a porthole. It would have been cool except for the very real skeleton face looking up at me. I shuddered and took a half step toward Periphetes. He draped a long, cold arm over my shoulder and pulled me closer. I could almost feel him smiling. Nik glared up at us, making me feel suddenly awkward. He returned to his work quickly, though, and I tried to ignore the feeling which bordered on regret.

Not like I owed him anything, I told myself sternly.

"Ouch," snapped Josh, yanking his hand away from the coffin. My new, excellent night vision made it possible for me to see the enormous splinter sticking out of his palm. He yanked it out and gave the coffin a respectable glare.

Nik ignored Josh's bleeding hand and jerked the coffin open. All three men heaved a sigh of disappointment.

# Chapter Forty

I wasn't sure what they were looking for in the creepy coffin, but it was clearly missing. All I saw was what seemed to be a woman—due to the long, black dress—and the remains of a dog laying at her feet. I was deeply disturbed. Of course, it turned out I could get even more disturbed. I blinked a few times, once again thinking I was going crazy. The skeleton of the dog seemed to shiver for a brief second before it fleshed out and became a shimmering image of the real, living thing. The ghost of the long dead dog pranced around as if in full health and nipped playfully at Josh's feet.

"Gah!" I sputtered. Periphetes harrumphed, Josh chuckled and Nik ignored. After us vampires stared at the ghost of this woman's dog for a few seconds, I pulled my attention back to what we'd come here for. "So..." I clicked my tongue on the roof of my mouth. "Was the dog what we were after?"

"Not in the least," whispered the fae, his breath still coming in tendrils of cold air and brushing against my ear. "Victoria Chambers was the last known person to possess the grimoire of Sedgrave and there was a legend that she'd been buried with it... along with her dog. Clearly, that legend was false."

"But she was buried with her dog," I point out, my voice full of judgment.

"She was a bit eccentric."

"Eccentric? She was bat-shit-crazy!" exclaimed Josh before climbing out of the grave. He had to make a few foot holes to make it up the six-foot wall of dirt.

Nik followed. "We'd better fill the grave again."

While they worked, I asked Periphetes a few questions. "So... bat-shit-crazy lady... what was her deal?"

"She was a wealthy occultist, supposedly clairvoyant, and steeped in mysticism. The story says she stumbled upon Sedgrave's grimoire in her European travels. She spent a small fortune on it. Unlike most occultists of that era, she actually had a slight connection with the mystical world and was a true believer."

"Why did we need his grimoire again?"

"It's a tool in the ritual where you become a sacrifice," said Periphetes.

"Keeping it out of their hands was one way to help prevent you dying," added Nik, his tone biting.

"Again," Josh added a beat too late in an effort to dissolve the sudden tension.

I felt very stupid for asking what now seemed so obvious. Twenty-twenty hindsight, as always. Periphetes patted my arm with the hand that draped over my shoulders. "The more items we can keep from them the safer you are."

I turned my attention to the dirt slowly piling on top of the dog ghost that continued to prance around in the grave, making soft yipping noises. To my surprise, it started climbing the dirt pile as though it was corporeal, eventually making its way out. It went straight to Josh and began to snap at the flying dirt with its tiny mouth. Of course, the dirt just passed right through his ghostly head. I was too depressed to feel sorry for the puppy's early demise or to even find its antics cute and amusing. A while later they finished filling the grave and replacing the chunks of sod. In Washington's wet climate the roots would take hold again in no time.

When we neared the car—the puppy following us, I started to feel as though someone was watching me again. I stopped to look for the ghost, but even with my super-vamp-night-vision, I couldn't make out anything beyond the nearest gravestones. I turned back to the group, realizing they had made it to the car, not aware I'd stopped. I was just about to look around again when something hit me in the back of the head.

I went down face first, falling too fast to get my hands out to soften my landing. My mouth filled with wet grass and I felt mud smear across my face as I turned my head. I spit the grass out and rolled to my left, just in time to miss another blow from the two-by-four that had hit me in the head. It was wielded by a man that looked strangely familiar.

No. Not a man.

I couldn't hear his heartbeat. In fact, I couldn't hear any heartbeats in the bodies that danced around me in a deadly battle. I kicked up, nailing my attacker in the groin. Though it didn't affect him like it would a human, it did hurt enough to give me time to scramble to my feet.

I was preparing to hit him again when I heard Nik yelling at me to run. I turned, trying to spot him in the midst of the battle. I suddenly realized most of Richard's seethe was here to capture me. We were vastly outnumbered, even with Periphetes freezing our enemies one by one.

The distraction gave my attacker a chance to hit me again. The blunt piece of wood collided with my shoulder blade. I heard a sick crack and my arm went limp. Yes, running suddenly seemed like a good idea. But how could I with this two-by-four wielding fiend attacking me? I ducked away from his next swing, too hurt and confused to do anything more impressive. Just when I was about to win a gold medal in stupidity, a streak of white shot into my attacker, freezing him in place. I glanced at Periphetes.

Even from where I stood I could see that the fae was wounded. I had no idea by what means faeries could die, but it was clear that he would soon be out of the battle. His tall, lean body slumped to one side. From what looked like a gash in his stomach, silver ichor dribbled down his groin and legs. Curls of mist plunged to the ground from the liquid seeping out of his wound—as though his blood was made of liquid nitrogen. He looked like a junior high science project gone wrong.

I didn't hesitate this time. I charged away from the fight, just trying to make it to the nearest road. When my feet hit the pavement I veered toward the main thoroughfare a few blocks away, not straightening my trajectory until I reached the other side of the road. I hoped there would be some traffic to keep my enemies from attacking me straight out.

Before I made it to the wider road, a strange noise from within the cemetery made me reconsider my plan. _Maybe I need to simply get away from the graveyard,_ I thought. I turned down the next path that wasn't a driveway. It took me between two dark houses and dumped me into a parking lot for a small business building. Another unnerving sound made me stop. From there, I saw that even the Safeway gas station was deserted. So much for finding a crowd. Granted, it was two in the morning.

"Ashley," whispered a voice. I glanced around, trying to figure out where it had come from. Though it was soft, the voice echoed off the surrounding buildings. "Ashley... come out to play," it taunted.

My eyes widened with fright. Whoever it was wasn't a friend. I bolted in whatever direction I was already facing.

I hurdled over a low fence dividing the parking lot from a dead-end, residential street and ran like mad. Tendrils of pain shot down my injured arm and burst out of my fingertips. I tried to hold it against my body, to keep the broken bones in my shoulder from shifting, but this just made it hard to run. I needed both arms to keep a steady, even pace.

After a few blocks, the street ended in a T. Without thinking or slowing my pace, I turned, just as the black clouds above released their burden. Pelting rain began to fall, forcing me to blink furiously to clear the water out of my eyes. As I straightened my angle, my surroundings were suddenly lit by a blinding flash of lightning. I had to slow my pace as my eyes readjusted to the darkness. The night rumbled with the following thunder just as I fought to speed up again.

At the next junction, I stopped, glancing down both deserted streets. "Ashley... " echoed the voice again. "Why are you running, Ashley?"

I didn't wait to answer. I took off at a sprint down another street. More lightning flashed through the sky, blinding me. I didn't stop but hoped my feet would stay on the pavement as I ran forward. At the next turn, I realized I didn't have a clue where I was, but that didn't stop me. I kept running in the direction I hoped would lead me away from the graveyard.

A few steps later, my tennis shoes slipped in a puddle and I went skidding onto a nearby lawn, landing on my damaged shoulder. I screamed. I couldn't help it. The rain had already filled the porous earth and was now forming puddles in the lawn. I sat in an inch of muddy water and I shook my head, trying to get the wet hair out of my eyes.

Another flash of lightning.

Once I could see again, I spotted the lights of a car moving away from me at a fast clip. That must be a main road, I thought. Thunder rolled across the city.

"Ashley... what's wrong?" simpered the voice again.

I dove toward the thoroughfare, trying to move quickly and keep my injured arm from screaming at me, positive anyone within a ten block radius could hear it.

I felt hot tears began to mingle with the rain water running down my cheeks. Just as I got close enough to recognize it as Capitol Boulevard—which would easily lead me back to the seethe—three men jumped out of an alley and surrounded me. I hadn't heard even a whisper of their approach.

I turned, prepared to keep up my momentum, but instead of getting away, I collided into a muscled chest. Two hands reached out and grabbed me by the shoulders. Fire shot from my cracked shoulder blade and down my arm. I screamed, causing him to relax his grip a little. Once I had blinked the tears away, I saw that Isaac had captured me at last. His blue eyes stared down at me as his full lips tweaked up into a half smile.

"You have wasted a great deal of my time," he hissed. Instead of being gentle with me, as he always had been, he pushed me roughly over to the other men. Two of them took hold of my arms while the other grabbed my feet. I screamed again when they carried me by arms and legs toward a waiting vehicle. I couldn't help it. It felt as though they were tearing my arm away from my body with each jarring step.

Just as they tossed me into the backseat, I noticed the porch light of a nearby house flicker on, but it was too late for them to help me; besides, I knew Isaac would only kill any human that came to my aid. I clamped my mouth shut as they joined me in the back seat, jostling my battered body. Isaac and the third man jumped into the front seat. I tried to be as small as possible, not wanting to touch my captives, but the small movement had me gasping for breath. I couldn't take it. Instead, I leaned back in the seat and tried to relax. After all, it's not like there was anything I could do now. My goose was good and cooked.

# Chapter Forty-One

Isaac screeched into a parking place at the flooring company that was Richard's seethe. Without any partiality, I thought Mikhail had a better front—booze, food, and big-ass TVs. They climbed out of the car, and, when I didn't follow quickly enough, one of them reached in and pulled me out, thankfully gripping my good shoulder. Once on the wet pavement, the other took hold of my hurting arm to lead me away, but both their grips were loose. I took a second to consider which way to run before jerking free of their grasp and booking it straight toward the street, but I barely made it to the sidewalk before Isaac knocked me to the ground. He took a clump of my hair and slammed my head into the pavement. I tried to groan and struggle free, but darkness quickly closed in around me.

When I opened my eyes, I was dangling from the ceiling, a rough rope bound around my wrists and attached to a nasty looking hook. My wet clothing was still dripping onto the drop cloth laid out below me, suggesting I hadn't been out for long. It wasn't surprising to find my wounded shoulder still on fire. I groaned, a small piece of my mind wondering why it wasn't healing at superhuman speed. Then I remembered the necessity of blood. When was the last time I'd drunk any? I honestly couldn't remember.

I blinked a few times, making sure I wasn't imagining things. I'd expected to be in some sort of dark and moist cellar. Instead, I was hanging in the main room where I had first met Richard. The only difference was the arrangement of the furniture—a few couches were pushed out of the way and the crystal had been replaced with metal tools that made me want to vomit. Next to the tools sat what looked like a very old, musty book. The grimoire, I guessed. I tried to look away.

Richard stepped into view, looking much like he had the last time I'd seen him—dressed in jeans and an ill-fitting blazer with a gold chain dangling from his puffy neck. He waddled over to me and smiled. Like the metal tools, his grin made me sick to my stomach.

"Just when I thought it might be impossible to capture you—thanks to that ridiculous warden of yours."

I frowned. Did he mean Nik?

"I'm sure in your old age, you've learned nothing is impossible," I said.

Though he stayed calm, he did give me a nudge in the shoulder with his thick, stubby fingers. I swung slightly on the rope as I grimaced. The pain in my shoulder was less, but not by much. Evidently, I didn't keep my face as nonchalant as I'd hoped.

"Did you get hurt during the fight? Tsk tsk," he said before pausing significantly. Richard frowned. "You should be more healed than this. When was the last time you drank anything?"

My eyes, which I had tried to keep away from his, quickly darted to his face. Was he going to do what I thought? Yep. Most definitely.

Richard waved his hand and a vamp opened a door. The assistant pulled a calm looking woman out of what appeared to be a large meat locker—gross! She was pasty white, more white than your average Olympian. Her blond, curly hair hung down her back in thin, frizzy waves. She reminded me of chemo patients on the news—their bodies barely hanging on to life. I stared at her as she neared me, her heart rate growing louder with each step. It was slow. Even. She wasn't afraid.

She should have been.

I gulped, trying to swallow the burning sensation away. I felt my fangs form in my mouth, barely aware of the pain. All I could think about was the beat of this woman's heart.

I forced myself to think of her as a human, not just a piece of meat. She probably had a family. People who loved her. Hopes. Dreams. I glanced at her frail limbs and pasty skin, realizing she'd been the property of the seethe for a long time and long since forgotten. My focus started to slip. I began to rationalize the choice before me—never a good thing.

_No,_ my non-beating heart shrieked at me. I clamped my mouth shut and stopped breathing. After all, I can't die of asphyxiation. Or can I?

Richard quickly realized what I was doing. He pushed the woman up against me until my nose was a mere inch from her throat. I vaguely wondered if he was holding her up by the neck. The white dents in her flesh suggested that was the case. The skin around his fingertips was growing pink with the pressure of his grip.

Didn't she realize I was about to kill her? Why wasn't she afraid? The slow, steady beat of her heart made it easier for me to think clearly. I started counting them—not letting them be spasms of a muscle that sent blood pumping through her veins but rather simple numbers.

My continued abstinence infuriated Richard.

"Taking the moral high ground?" he snapped at me. "We all have to drink. And just for this, I will have you drink her life from her."

"And if I refuse?" I asked with what breath I still held in my lungs. I inhaled through my mouth.

"I'll make you drink her, her and many more," he added in what sounded like a yell without his volume actually increasing.

Richard took a paring knife from the table and made a small slit on her neck, which immediately began to flow freely down her white chest. She flinched slightly, but her calm demeanor never faltered, as if she trusted him completely. The sight and increased smell broke what little willpower I had left.

I burst out of my protective shell of control and yelled at him in guttural tones. I shook, trying to free myself from the rope around my wrist so that I could reach the food. I no longer felt the pain in my shoulder, masked as it was by my need, my desire. All I cared about was getting what I wanted.

Richard smiled and pulled the woman's bleeding throat away from me. It wasn't far, but it was enough to extract a cry of protest from my constricted throat. His smile widened as he enjoyed my complete loss of control. Finally, when I was straining against my binding and doing more damage to my shoulder, he pushed the girl up to me. I bit down, sucking the blood from her body. A brief moment later it was over and she was just a heap of flesh on the floor. I didn't notice, didn't care. Richard already had another person ready to replace her. He didn't have to cut the skin for me this time.

At some point during my feeding frenzy, they lowered me to the ground. When I became aware of my surroundings again, I was kneeling on the first woman's back, my bound arms wrapped around another victim's neck. I looked up at Richard and Isaac—who had entered without my knowledge. Their eyes were bright with their own desire. Or maybe it was just pride in having corrupted me so easily. I felt blood dripping from my chin and wiped it on my shoulder.

That's when I saw them. I hadn't just killed the woman and the man I now held. No. I'd drained many others. In fact, I huddled over a pile of bodies. I started to count them but stopped at five. It was just too much. Besides, I was having trouble telling where one body ended and another began.

"What have you done?" I whispered, staring up at Richard.

"What have you done." It wasn't a question. My impotent heart shuddered as I looked down at the bodies as if it would start to beat again just so that it could break in anguish.

Richard's flat lips pulled up into a sickening smile. He was right. I couldn't take it. I shoved the most recent body from me and started scooting away. My shoulder didn't hurt anymore. Why should it? I'd just drunk over five people worth of blood—way more than I had yet to consume at any one time during my week as a vampire. In fact, it might be more than I had consumed in total. So naturally, my shoulder wouldn't hurt. The broken bones had completely fused thanks to the power of human blood. I felt energized. I wanted to run a marathon or swim the English Channel. I quickly poured the new energy into feeling guilty.

Before I could roll to my feet, Isaac jumped forward and yanked my arms over my head. He easily lifted me up to the dangling chain and snagged the rope binding my wrists onto the hook. I spun slightly, and that's when Emma came into view.

That bitch!

Unlike the other two, who seemed to be enjoying themselves, she looked downright pissed off. I wanted to smile at her, to make her angrier, but I couldn't pull my mind from the pile of bodies that had recently been my breakfast. I felt hot tears prick my eyes and begin rolling down my cheeks. I didn't wipe them away. It's not like I could have, even if I had cared.

Emma sauntered up to me; her dark brown eyes squinted into an ugly glare. This time, she wore a tiny, speckled gray cocktail dress. Her chocolate brown hair was piled into a mop on her head with delicate curls hanging in precisely uneven lengths around her head. Her makeup was flashy like she intended to go to the bar later tonight.

"So you were the girl we were after all along. I never thought to doubt Nik's story. But I suppose I was blind, all things considered. He can be a great distraction. Though I'm sure you would know nothing about that, despite your lies. Nik told me the truth. He would never stoop to a flat-chested boy-child like you."

_True enough,_ I thought. Compared to her curvy shape I was nothing but an ironing board. Normally the taunt would have stung for its truth, but not today. I didn't have room for my ego next to my remorse. All I wanted was for them to kill me, to erase the guilt I now felt. Yes, they would kill me soon. They had to, to bring Sedgrave back from the dead.

Wait. That was bad.

As much as I wanted to die, I didn't want my death to bring about more pain and suffering. I had to get them to kill me quickly before they could do the ritual. It was the only way. But how could I make them angry enough to forget their goal?

Before I could think of a plan, Emma slapped me across the face, the momentum causing me to spin a few times before the heavy rope grew too tight and forced me to spin backward. And that gave me a hint. Of the three, Emma was the most volatile. To her, I wasn't just a sacrifice. I had lied to her. About her boy-toy no less. I'd made it personal.

When I stopped spinning I smiled at her, cramming all my contrition into the back of my mind. All the feelings of guilt and despair had to be dealt with; I took a short second to pack them up tight, so they couldn't escape and distract me from what I had to do. If I was going to trick this woman into killing me, she couldn't notice the raging battle consuming me from the inside out. And so I took all those emotions: fear, anxiety, dread, sorrow, and a few I doubted had a name and pressed them down until I couldn't feel anything anymore.

I'd make it all better by getting them to kill me before the ritual could take place.

"True," I smirked. "I'll never have a chance with Nik. But will he take you back after this?"

I was out on a limb here, metaphorically speaking. I had no idea if Nik was actually in on the whole scheme. Part of my mind, the part that loathed him, had no doubt. Another part, the one that remembered all the hurt he had endured for my sake, flinched away from the idea. Just like my sorrow, I stuffed these thoughts down into my gut. I chose to have faith in him. I chose to believe he had suffered for a cause and not a show. Emma couldn't see the doubt in my eyes.

"After all, he has endured horrible pain and loss just to keep me from you and your friends. Do you think he can just forget that this whole mess caused all of his humans to die?"

I spotted a small tick around Emma's left eye, though her smile stayed calm and relaxed. I'd hit a nerve.

"Nik needs to learn to take and consume his food. This habit of his to become attached to his cattle is ridiculous. In the long run, he'll thank me for it."

"You really believe that?" I asked. She was making this too easy. "I saw him after his people were slaughtered. I saw his anguish. He looked like a man who had lost his wives, children, uncles, aunts... everyone, all in a single day. You honestly think he'll thank you one day?" I let pity drip into my voice.

Her jaw clenched and her hands tightened into fists.

"Besides that, your friends here," I nodded toward Richard and Isaac, "Ransacked his home. Almost killed his friend. Not to mention the amount of bodily damage he sustained. You really think Nik will just get over that?" It wasn't entirely true, the werewolves had attacked him in his home, but I wasn't about to get caught up in minor details.

"In time," she whispered.

"Ha! Then you don't know Nik as well as you think. Nik is a man of integrity, honesty, and loyalty." Something about my statement felt right. "Traits you know nothing about. Even if"—and I let the doubt I felt show through my voice—"Even if he still has feelings for you after all this, he won't take you back under principle. Your actions have destroyed his life.

"Instead, he'll come and rescue me, as he always does... always has. And I'll be there for him as he grieves. I'll be the shoulder he cries on, so to speak. And in time, he'll see the real me. When the day is done, Nik will be mine... not yours."

And that was the catalyst, even if it was the opposite of what I wanted.

She lunged at me, her fangs suddenly at the ready and clawed at me with her fingernails, shredding the skin on my arms, while she sunk her teeth into my neck.

I wish I could say I was getting used to agonizing pain, but I don't think epic pain is something you get used to. Let's just say it hurt, and move on.

I could tell she had intended on tearing out my throat, but before she could sink her teeth deep enough into my flesh, Richard and Isaac yanked her from me. Nonetheless, I screamed as a chunk of my neck was severed from my body. Not-so-thankfully, with all the human blood flowing through me, I healed in a matter of minutes.

Isaac and Richard had to work together to pin Emma to the concrete floor. "Calm down," ordered Richard. She didn't obey. She didn't have to. After all, she wasn't a member of his seethe. She was a primus of her own seethe; technically just as powerful. When she failed to obey, he slammed her head into the concrete. Unlike me, she didn't lose consciousness, though it did clear her senses enough to regain her composure. She glanced up at Richard, ignoring the flow of blood streaming from her scalp. It was already beginning to heal. Evidently, she had fed recently, too. "Leave, Emma. You are too emotionally involved."

"I can handle it," she responded in a breathy voice.

"And if you can't? Are you willing to risk everything?"

Emma hesitated a moment before nodding. I had to give it to her, she did know how to set aside her ego for her mission. They let her up and she gave me one last glower before marching out of the room. The back of her head was matted with glistening blood. Richard nodded to Isaac and followed her out.

# Chapter Forty-Two

"Now, Miss Ashley, that was a very mean trick to play on poor Emma. But you won't find me such an easy target," said Isaac. "After all, we always did get along."

"Sure, you were fun enough... for a time," I murmured. My highly trained ability to annoy found a new target.

His smirk transformed into a frozen stare. "For a time?" he asked incredulously.

"Yeah. You can't expect a girl like me to be entertained by a guy like you for long. I'm mean... you're nice enough... but, if I'm honest, kinda dull," I whispered as if it was a secret, picking Isaac's one flaw—aside from wanting to sacrifice me—and multiplying it by, like, a billion. Isaac wasn't dull. He just didn't make the moves I had wanted him to, such as kissing me more. Ooh, I could use that! "And, you know, constructive criticism and all, your kisses were a little boring."

"Boring?"

"Yeah. I mean... they were enjoyable, but hardly lit my fire if you know what I mean." I couldn't believe he was buying it. After all, he would have been listening to my heart beat a mile a minute while he kissed me. I became very glad he couldn't hear my heart now because it would have given light to my falsehood. I hoped I wasn't turning green as I discussed it. Though I might have wanted nothing more than a good makeout session with him when I was human, the idea of it now made me want to hurl. After all, he was trying to kill me.

"Lit your fire?" Isaac suddenly looked like a drowned puppy. I almost felt sorry for him.

"Yeah... you know... floated my boat. Got the motor running. Boiled my potato. Tickled my fancy. You really don't get the modern language do you?"

Isaac shook his head.

I sighed. "I never got—erm—aroused from your 'kisses'." I would have used my hands to make air quotation marks, but I couldn't, so I just insinuated as much as I could with my voice. He seemed to get it. His face stiffened much like Emma's had.

"And here I always thought you liked me," he murmured, trying to sound nonchalant, but I could see his knuckles turning white.

"Eh. Better'n nothing. But really... when this is all over, you might want to take a few lessons. Nik could teach you a thing or two," I added for good measure, knowing they didn't like each other. That was the trigger. Isaac went from sad confusion to a killing rage in seconds. He charged forward, grabbing me by the waist and yanking me free from the dangling hook. The next thing I knew, I was flying through the room and crashing into one of the fancy hutches filled with glass vases. Blood spouted from hundreds of tiny cuts, and I absently wondered how much of it contained my DNA and how much belonged to my recent victims. Then again, what does vampire DNA look like? It's questions like these that need to be addressed in the next _Blade_ movie.

Before I could climb out of the pile of blood and glass, Isaac was on me, yanking me up and planting a big, sloppy kiss on my surprised lips. He wrapped his arms around me and forced his tongue into my mouth. At first, I relaxed into his grasp, thinking he'll just get bored, but the more passive I was, the more aggressive he got. It wasn't until I struggled against his hold that he let me go. He dropped me to my feet and I did my best to not look out of breath.

"There. How was that?" demanded Isaac.

"Not bad. Kinda slimy." I made a show of wiping my lips on my shoulder—my hands were still tied together.

His eyes turned fiery and I suddenly worried that he might force himself on me rather than kill me. I couldn't decide whether to continue pushing his buttons or to let it go. Maybe I should have moved away from the sexual aspect.

"Also, I mean, if we're being honest with each other, your dates were kinda lame," I stated before sauntering away, or at least I tried to. Before I managed to take more than a step, he grabbed me again and tossed me into one of the delicate tables. A tiny gasp escaped my lips as a piece of the wood skewered me from behind. I panicked, thinking it had hit my heart. After a moment of agony, I realized it hadn't... and realized that that was exactly what I had been hoping for a moment ago. It's hard to wish for your own death.

"What the hell is going on?" Richard asked from the doorway where he stood, slowly taking inventory of the damaged room. I could only imagine what he saw: Isaac in the center, panting; a shattered hutch covered in blood; and me on the remnants of a table with a giant splinter poking through my gut, also covered in blood.

Isaac froze, his senses slowly returning. He too looked around and realized what he'd nearly done. Richard waddled past him and yanked the splinter from my back. The pain was so intense I rolled over and heaved, but my stomach was empty, the blood from my recent feeding already soaked up by my tissues and expended on the recent injuries.

Richard yanked me up to my feet and dragged me to my corner, where he hoisted me back onto the hook. He may be short and fat, but he was just as strong as Isaac. Maybe even stronger, I realized as I remembered my lessons on the aging of vampires. The older they are, the stronger they are. Period.

"Now get out."

"But... "

"Get out!" demanded Richard. "I will call you when it's time."

Isaac glared at the back of Richard's head before storming out of the room and slamming the door.

"Spoilsport," I murmured.

Richard looked up at me, his face not showing any of the anger I expected. "You know, if things were different, I think I might actually like you."

"Yeah? If things were different, I'd still think you were a rat-bastard."

Again, Richard didn't express the anger I had been shooting for. He simply took a seat, flipped open a nearby book and began to read. I hung there for a moment, still swaying slightly from when he reattached me to the hook.

"Whatcha readin'?" I asked, hoping to pester him to death.

Richard didn't answer.

"Is it any good?"

Still no answer.

"You ever read any of my books?"

Richard continued to sit in silence though I thought I detected a faint smile. He probably had read my books and like most vampires, thought them to be horrible. Granted, since my becoming a vampire, I kind of thought they were horrible too.

"You're fat," I said in a last-ditch effort to make him mad. Though the muscles around his jaw tightened, he didn't respond. It was clear I would never get him mad enough to kill me.

The realization of what I was waiting for hit me like a ton of bricks: I was about to die, for real this time. There were so many things I still wanted to do. Like, be in love. Or travel to Europe. I'd never get to write better books, or more importantly, tell Nik how much he sucked at being a guard.

_Where was he anyway?_ I wondered, the ropes around my wrist getting tighter with each minute. _He's not dead,_ I told myself firmly. He couldn't be. Nik couldn't die.

And Josh?

I felt my eyes begin to burn. I didn't want Josh to die for my sake or any other reason. He was a genuine friend—someone I could see watching Bollywood films with me or going thrift store shopping. We clearly had the same sort of twisted humor.

Nik on the other hand, Nik was something else. Well, I didn't want to think on that topic. I didn't know how I felt about him dying. I didn't know how I felt about him living either. Ugh. Complications!

There's nothing I can do about it, I told myself sternly. An hour later, my arms began to go to sleep, and another hour after that, the room slowly started filling with Richard's seethe. My clothing was finally dry. The primus put his book down and began to mill about. At first, I ignored them—keeping my head drooped toward the floor. I had a crick in my neck, but I figured it didn't matter. It was only a matter of time before I'd be dead. Though I felt pressure building behind my eyes, I was too numb to cry.

When I did begin to stir, I spotted Richard speaking to an odd-looking man with shaggy brown hair and an eighties mustache. They glanced at me occasionally, as most of the growing crowd did. Some looked at me in earnest, while others examined me as though I was a science project. Finally, when I thought the room couldn't hold anymore, Emma and Isaac entered, each showing their own signs of stress and frustration. Emma's arms were twined across her chest while Isaac continually flexed his fingers to keep them from balling up into fists. They both had showered and changed.

I waited, half expecting to see Nik swoop in to rescue me at that critical moment.

# Chapter Forty-Three

Once Isaac and Emma had taken their positions near Richard, he stepped forward with a large mask. It was made of gold, with rays shooting out of its face, like a gilded cartoon sun, except more menacing. Richard slipped it on my face and my neck stiffened as I worked to hold the heavy thing up. The eye holes were small and it blocked out most of my vision. I could still see Richard and Isaac, plus Emma's shoulder, along with pieces of other people's faces who stood behind the leaders.

The muscles around my stomach tightened in anticipation as I expected the ritual, or whatever it was called, to begin; to my disgust, they just stood there, the man with the eighties mustache chanting quietly under his breath. It was a few minutes before anything happened, but when it did, I immediately regretted my impatience.

The heavy mask began to glow, blinding me from my surroundings. The metal heated up, searing the flesh on my face. The pain was intense, as if my skull was on fire, burning from the outside in. I quickly blacked out, thankful to be released from the intense, nauseating pain.

But the relief didn't last. In what felt like a mere blink, I opened my eyes to a new scene and new pains. The room looked similar—created from concrete and carefully decorated, and yet different. The people watching me were dressed in what I quickly recognized as the clothing from the fifties. The nearest man wore a brown suit and a thin tie while the woman next to him was dressed in a summer dress of lavender, with her hair up in curls and ivory combs. At first, I thought my captors had gone and changed while I had been unconscious, but before the idea could sink in, I noticed that the scenery was not the only thing transformed.

Though I still wore the Mask-of-Sheer-Agony, other sensations began to spring to my awareness. The rope binding my wrists had transformed into iron manacles. The flesh around them felt raw. I forced my heavy head to tilt back so that I could see my hands stretched above my head. They weren't my hands. They belonged to a man and were covered in bristly strawberry blond hair. As I expected, the skin around the adopted wrists was missing, replaced by unhealthy red sores. But more than just my wrists hurt.

I had been whipped; the streaks of liquid fire running down my back made that clear enough. Stars jumped into my vision, making it nearly impossible to see my surroundings, but I forced my eyes back on the crowd. They were waiting expectantly, a new voice whispering the ritualistic words. I couldn't wrap my mind around what they wanted. Was I supposed to die now?

But it wasn't me! This wasn't my body they watched, slowly bleeding to death. It was some strange, red-haired man. Or a really butch woman. I would have been confused if I could pull my mind from the pain. I began to feel my consciousness slip, my vision slowly turn black.

I must have completely lost consciousness because I opened my eyes to find myself in an entirely new location. Instead of a concrete bunker, I was in a structure built of long logs with high windows that had been covered in thick drapery. I could hear a fire crackle over the soft murmur of yet another chanting voice.

Through sheer force of will, I trained my eyes on the individuals. It was a whole new sort of shock to see women draped in puffy gowns. The men wore long coats, vests, and top hats. I figured it was sometime near the American Civil War. No dress could fluff quite like that without some form of a hoop skirt.

I'd never really thought of vampires as being creatures of the past. Then again, I knew Nik was around three hundred years old. He would have worn long beards like these men.

Yuck!

The pain quickly tore me from these ridiculous musings. I wasn't hanging from the ceiling as I had been a moment ago. Instead, I was tied to a chair, my torn back rubbing uncomfortably against the wooden seat. My ankles, as well as my wrists, were sore from iron bindings. But this wasn't all. I felt my stomach twist around a foreign object. Once I got my head tilted down to see, I realized I had a thin sword poking out from my gut.

_Could it get any worse?_ I wondered. At least this time I was a woman. I could tell by the powder white breasts that were squeezed into a cinched bodice. Even without the help of a corset, these were much larger than mine could ever be.

"She begins to fade," announced someone from the crowd.

"It won't be long now," added a voice I recognized. I forced my head up to look at the man that had spoken. I recognized him. After all, I'd spent the last week with those strangely green eyes watching my every move. Just as my eyes focused, the molten metal mask slipped to the side, making it impossible to stare at him.

What little I could see included flowing dresses and black boots. I half expected Abraham Lincoln to give a speech.

I had to blink a few times, trying to ignore the pain while I attempted to wrap my mind around what was happening. I had been passed down the historical timeline, like an archaeological floozy. Except it wasn't me. The last time, I'd been a man—and that was just wrong!

What was happening to me? Was this part of the ritual or was something going drastically wrong? Maybe I was having a vampire's version of a psychological breakdown, or were these instances where vampires had tried and failed, to bring Sedgrave back?

I felt the tug of magic this time, just before unconsciousness pulled my mind into utter blackness. When I came to yet again, I was in a stone building with darkened stained-glass windows, hanging draperies, and gilded people. I'd never seen anyone dressed in such ridiculous finery. It was medieval finery, but ostentatious nonetheless. The men and women alike wore jewelry that could have sunk the Titanic.

"Peace," a female voice said from the front of the crowd. "'Twill not be long now."

They weren't wrong. My head lulled toward my chest—which belonged to a man, I might add. It was covered in blood from a long gash in my neck. I could feel the edges of the gash rub painfully when I moved. There was no doubt I would bleed out before long. Would I die? Was I even a vampire anymore? I couldn't be sure considering how many bodies I'd shifted through.

I felt the ever present thirst taking the forefront in my thoughts. I was indeed a vampire, a very thirsty one! From a distance, I could hear a heartbeat. I wanted it, needed it. I lunged forward, the bindings pulling at my ankles, the chair bouncing on the stone floor. I ignored the pain radiating through my body. The sword was still in my stomach, my back still shredded to ribbons, but I didn't care. I knew it would all be healed if I could just drink. I would feel better if I could reach that beating heart.

I jerked against my bindings again. My sudden movement startled the watching crowd. They hadn't expected such energy from a dying man. It didn't last long. I drooped back into my seat, fresh out of energy. Perhaps death wouldn't be so bad. I closed my eyes, willing to let this miserable existence end.

Sadly, my eyes opened again. I wasn't in some new, foreign place. I was back in Richard's basement, watched carefully by his seethe. He took an anxious step toward me, his hands wrapped around a tall staff with deep etchings carved into it. He, too, knew the end was near. I could see it in the spark in his pasty eyes, the stiffness of his stance.

My head lulled forward as the last of my strength slipped from my grasp. I wasn't surprised to see that Emma's dagger protruded from my stomach and my throat bled swiftly. The flesh on my back was torn as well—just as it had in my visions. All I'd experienced in my historical wandering had come to pass.

Just as I felt myself slipping, for the last time I hoped, a sudden surge of energy escaped the mask, flowing into my sagging body. I jerked, a spasm ripping through me. Lightning exploded into my chest, up my shoulder, and out my arms and legs. I would have screamed, but my mouth—like my mind—was too lost in fog. I couldn't find my vocal cords or my lips.

I scrambled, searching for a way free of the fog that kept me just on the edge of panic. I knew I was in pain, agony even. I knew I was bleeding to the point of death, but I couldn't make myself care. My mind was lost, and I had to find it. I called out to me, but I couldn't reach me.

All my hopes, my fears, my expectations. All my memories, friends, and enemies were somewhere apart from me. Just when I thought I had found myself, I felt icy fingers beginning to probe through my identity. It picked through my childhood, plucking the occasional memory from me and flinging it away.

I couldn't tell if there was a pattern to its choices, but every few minutes another memory would be pulled from me. In their place, I felt a darkness seep into my mind. It wasn't darkness in the traditional sense—a lack of light, it was far worse, far less permeable. There is a safety in darkness, in the knowledge that if you turn on a lamp or light a candle the darkness will recede, but that was not the case with the darkness that enveloped my mind. It was like thick, black ink that slowly spread across the very essence of who I was. There was no way to clean the stain.

I pushed it away from my mind, trying to recall the memories that had been taken by those icy fingers, but I couldn't. They were gone and the utter blackness that had replaced them would not budge.

As my memories were tossed away like garbage, I began to lose the motivation to fight. I couldn't remember why this was bad, or why I should care. My identity, the very fabric of who or what I was, began to slip from my grasp. At the same time, the darkness I had once flinched from became a welcoming respite from the general confusion that had become my existence.

And yet, the darkness completely failed to guard me from the pain surging through my body. The torn flesh on my back and the dagger protruding from my stomach became minor complaints—like a hangnail next to a broken tibia. Compared to the bolts of pure energy bursting through my body on regular intervals, the wounds barely made themselves known.

It couldn't last much longer. There weren't that many memories left. I clung to a trivial memory from my childhood that had yet to be removed. It was silly really. I was in church, wearing a black little dress. My mother had sent me to blow out the candles around the sanctuary, and, like any foolish child, I'd blown too hard as I leaned over the candle. The liquid wax had exploded from the candle and splattered upwards, all over my face and dress. I'd run, crying, to my mother. I could feel her gentle, though calloused, hands—from years of wall paper hanging—wiping the drying wax from my face.

Mother.

Then nothing.

Nothing but pain and blackness. Even that precious memory was gone. I was nothing but a body filled with agony and emptiness. I wasn't even sure which was worse. All that I had been, all that I could one day be, was gone. I felt my body droop, the ropes pulling against my wrists, but I couldn't remember the word "rope" or recall what my wrists looked like. I heard someone laugh, but couldn't put a face to the voice. I didn't know where I was or what I would see if I could open my eyes.

Of course, I couldn't. Or wouldn't.

"Is she dead?" asked a woman's voice.

"Close. Very close," responded a man.

Yes. I was very close to death.

Though the searing bursts of lightning were increasing in power and rapidity, I could feel the last of my energy seeping out of my wounds. I felt like an orange that had been twisted and squeezed until not a drop of liquid could be found.

The blackness that surrounded me took on an even darker tinge that was more of a feeling than an image when the throbbing lightning stopped to build up for one last blast. It filled me, pushing the darkness away, but not allowing my memories to return, which made me feel even emptier. When I was sure I couldn't hold any more power in my small body, it burst forth, tearing my skin from my body, quickly followed by layers of muscle and guts. I was unmade, destroyed of all matter.

And then, finally, silent oblivion took hold.

# Chapter Forty-Four

I awoke.

It was a surprise. I hadn't really expected to wake up.

The room had transformed, to say the least. Those who had been standing by, watching me die, were fighting for their lives against an army swarming in through the main doors. I quickly spotted Samuel grappling with Isaac. It looked strange to see a gray-haired man wrestle with a young man in his prime, but Samuel was winning. I was pretty sure Samuel was the elder of the two.

Just to the left, Mikhail and a vamp I didn't recognize were tearing the head off one of Richard's thugs. I recognized other members of Mikhail's seethe fighting to the death.

In the center stood a man I had never seen before. And boy, would I remember him. He was above average in height but had a fairly slim build. That was all I could see of his physique past the dark blue cloak accented with gold circles. What stood out about him was his ability to fling bolts of blue energy at my friends—well, I should say at those that weren't my enemies. His very presence demanded attention, and that thought gave suggestion to who he might be. The warlock. That one whose existence required my death.

Only I wasn't dead, and he was most definitely alive.

Before I could further contemplate the strangeness of it all, a pounding heartbeat accosted my ears. I didn't stop to think. I was too thirsty, too damaged to have any sort of self-control. Of course, that was just an excuse and a pretty flimsy one at that.

I flung my legs forward, snaring one of Richard's human servants, dragging them close enough to bite. With my legs wrapped around their waist, I managed to clamp my mouth over their shoulder. My sharp teeth pricked their skin and I drank deeply. When the blood ran out, I unwound my legs and let the body drop to the floor with a heavy thud. It took a while since I had not managed to find the main artery. When it was finally over, I began scanning the crowd for another heartbeat.

But one face stood out from the crowd, capturing my attention.

Of course, the smell of the blood slowly dribbling from a blood bag helped. Nik stood, his expression a mixture of regret and relief. I licked my lips, tasting the salty, sweet liquid. I wiped my face as best I could on my arm—still tied above my head. Nik dropped the bag and moved to my side, an industrial size knife in his hand. He reached up and deftly cut the thick rope that attached me to the ceiling. I collapsed in his arms. He dropped the knife and pulled me into a fireman's carry.

"No," I said with difficulty, the gash on my neck allowing air to escape where it shouldn't. "We have to stop him." Though that was the main reason I didn't want to go with Nik, there was another—a distrust I couldn't completely explain.

"Silence," he hissed. From my position hanging from his shoulder, I could see the battle continuing. I could also see my blood trickling down his back. There was Josh, looking so small beside the others. He had disengaged from the fight, by staking his enemy, when he noticed us nearing the door, and followed. We had just reached the wide steps leading up to the double doors when a small group of Richard's men stepped in our way.

Nik slowly lowered me to the ground. I couldn't see what was happening above their knees, but I knew we weren't out of the fight. Not by a long shot. Nik lunged forward, shortly followed by Josh's smaller feet, garbed in Chuck Taylors with Peanuts cartoons on them. Their feet and those of the enemy danced around, narrowly missing my body. I tried to squirm away. After about six inches I gave up and let myself give in to the misery.

As I lay there, I noticed the growing swath of blood staining the concrete. Though I was healing, it was barely noticeable, and it seemed to be entirely focused on the gash across my throat, as though my body was prioritizing. No wonder I was so weak.

Before I could figure out what to do about it, a foot tripped over my leg. I looked up to see a boy, barely the age of a high schooler. He stumbled to his knees and scrambled away.

I rolled to see what was pursuing him. It was Samuel, his speckled gray hair an odd juxtaposition to his torn shirt, sculptured muscles, and vindictive anger. He leaped over me, pounced on the young boy, and tore his head from his body. The head and body dissolved into dust. I noticed other piles of dust around the room as more vampires lost their lives over me.

My stomach began to twist and heave at the waste of it all; all over me. Samuel crawled to my side, taking a blow to the shoulder by a dismembered arm that had been hurled across the room. I turned my head, trying to find the body it belonged to. Samuel lifted me from the ground and began dodging the crowd, heading in the general direction of the door. I was too exhausted and dazed to argue or worry about the others.

My brain was lingering in the place between sleep and consciousness. I couldn't seem to pull myself free of the haze or allow myself the respite I so desperately needed. We had just reached the door when I felt Samuel jerk and lose his grip on me. I hit the floor with a thud that was drowned out by Samuel's own fall. He landed on my feet. It was a minor pain compared to my shredded back, piercing wound in my gut, or gash across my throat—all of which were beginning to mend. The rate of blood flow had diminished noticeably but not enough to keep me from worrying.

Samuel jumped to his feet, ready to battle the most recent threat. While he punched and grappled, I rolled onto my stomach and tried to climb to my feet. I didn't get very far. I was barely on my knees when Nik reached my side and tossed me over his shoulder. I grunted and gasped as more blood—my blood—spouted from the wound in my stomach; the movement tore the wound afresh. Just like Samuel, Nik jerked as someone pounded him in the back. This time, being draped over his shoulders, I was able to see his attacker, or rather attackers.

Two of Richard's vampires, one of which was the man with the shaggy, eighties mustache that had been reciting the ritual, had lined up to take on Nik. Mr. Mustache pummeled Nik's back with his elbow. Nik didn't fall like Samuel, but he didn't keep moving either. He turned toward them, ready to fight, even though I still hung limply from his shoulders. He blocked the next blow easily, taking a kick in the hip before he was dropped by a blow to the back of his knees. Evidently, others had joined the fight. The momentum sent me off his shoulders and over his head. I hit the edge of the steps and thumped down to the main level. Meanwhile, Nik defended himself from the multiple attackers.

Again, I tried to climb to my feet but slipped on my own blood. The fall, short as it was, bashed my head against the concrete, bringing stars before my eyes and causing my stomach to give a little flip of surprise. I shook my head, trying to clear my mind. Before I could try again, another pair of feet came into view. I glanced up to see Mr. Mustache leering down at me.

But he never got the chance to snatch me up. Josh slid up behind him, grabbed the man's loose slacks, and yanked. They came down with an audible swoosh and settled around his ankles. With a smirk on his face, Josh gave him a shove and crawled to my side, followed closely by the yipping ghost of the dog from the graveyard. The tiny animal danced around Josh before noticing Mr. Mustache struggling with his pants. The dog jumped forward and tried to grab hold of the offending pant leg, but did little more than startle our enemy. Josh carefully picked me up, ignoring the antics of the dog.

I suddenly felt the need to add handles to my daily wardrobe.

I didn't want him to carry me. Like all the others, he would just end up dropping me. If they'd just give me a few minutes of calm and quiet I could handle the tumult surrounding me. Evidently, Josh was small enough to go unnoticed. We reached the door without incident, even made it to the stairs leading to the ground level before anyone stopped us. Sadly, the one to block the narrow stairway was the crazy warlock himself.

The hood of Sedgrave's cloak, which appeared to be more of a raincoat type thing, was thrown back. To my great surprise, the tall though slight man looked to be no more than fifteen years old. He had soft blond hair that swooped mostly to one side. His skin was clear and very young looking, as though he had never seen the sun. A touch of baby fat still hung about his face, though what muscle he did have was long and lean, rather than bulky. He smiled slightly, his light green eyes brightening with an excitement that sent a chill to the very depths of my stomach.

"Where are you going?" he asked, his voice soft and youthful. It didn't seem to match the many rumors and myths we'd heard. The simplicity of the question didn't fit with what was going on behind us. I had expected a harsh, gravelly voice in a coarse, old man.

Before Josh could set me down, or even blink, the warlock flung power at us—sheer, blinding power. It hit like an invisible wall of gelatin that molded around our shape and forced us back down the hall toward the carnage. We collided with the far wall. My neck snapped to the side and my skull banged into the concrete. A bright light shone in my face—like a car's headlights. I blinked a few times to clear the sudden increase of moisture from my eyes.

Josh quickly scrambled out from under my limp body and rushed the warlock in a rather headlong manner. To my surprise, he managed to move fast enough to tackle the warlock like a linebacker—which is impressive, considering how small Josh is (He's not above five foot five and maybe a hundred and fifty pounds, dripping with molasses). Still, he was up against a teenager. But this youth could fling what felt like walls of electricity.

The warlock fell against the steps, hitting his head. I noticed a patch of red form on the bottom step and inhaled the sweet scent. Without thinking or feeling my pain, I climbed to my feet and pounced. I'd just gotten my teeth to the warlock's neck when his hands began to glow with a bright blue light that flowed up his arms, to his shoulders, and washed over the rest of his body.

The light reached me, sending tendrils of pain through my teeth and down my throat. I tried to scream and pull myself away, but the light held me still, frozen in a crouch. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Josh frozen in the same way. The powerful light had spread across the floor and up Josh's feet.

Sedgrave pulled himself free and stalked up the steps, the blue glowing light still spilling down his arms toward the ground, like fog from dry ice. I tried to think of a way to escape, but my thoughts came slowly, in a muddled sort of way. I tried to remember why I was stuck, but that, too, was long forgotten.

_What is wrong with me?_ I wondered. Was it just the blood loss and general mayhem done to my body? I couldn't think—or try to think—about it long. The smell of the warlock's blood filled my senses. My head began to pound as though I had a hangover. Due more to instinct than actual thought, I attempted another lunge in his direction. I, of course, failed.

Once Sedgrave had reached the top of the steps, blood still flowing down his neck and taunting me, he released us from his invisible grasp. Josh and I stumbled down a step or two before we could get our balance. Josh didn't wait. He rushed up the steps, but the warlock charged up his hands again, whispered a word, and flung a ball of blue fire at Josh.

I shrieked, terrified that Josh would be burned to a crisp. Josh just managed to dodge it, the ball of mystical flame slamming into the back wall and leaving a large, scorched crater. Josh didn't let the attack slow him more than a second. He continued in his headlong charge, this time hitting the warlock in the shins and flipping him over his shoulder. I guess Josh had watched a great deal of hockey. This wasn't the first time I'd seen him use that move, though it was more effective on the stairs.

I didn't move fast enough. The flailing warlock caught me across the chest, knocking me from the stairs. We landed in a pile. I was glad to notice the blue fog that had surrounded his hands had faded. I didn't hesitate. I grabbed Sedgrave's hair, yanked his neck to the side, and sunk my teeth into his neck.

I had intended to drain him dry, but he screamed a word I didn't recognize, slammed his fist into the concrete, and caused the whole building to shake. The concrete bunker sprouted cracks and the impromptu earthquake rattled me right off the warlock. I landed on a wooden, wedge-shaped door stopper. He didn't give me the chance to attack again. He tossed a ball of sunlight at me. It caught me in the shoulder with enough force to slide me across the floor and against the far wall.

I screamed. The glowing light seemed to be alive, seeping through my skin to the muscles beneath, but the living glow didn't stop there. It dripped down my arm and the back of my shoulder like hot lava. The pain was beyond anything I had ever felt. It made me see red.

Pain is one of those things that can either make you give up or get angry enough to ignore it. This was the latter. I got too angry to consider the wisdom of my next move.

During all this, Josh jumped forward, trying to grab Sedgrave's legs. Instead, he took a kick to the face that had more force than a human should be able to manage. Josh flew back, pounding into the concrete. I heard a sickening crack and hoped it was just a few useless ribs, and not something important, like a spine.

Josh started to climb to his feet, one arm clutched to his side.

"Stop," ordered the warlock, his eyes focused on Josh. To my surprise, Josh obeyed. "You don't want to fight me. I stand for peace... "

I didn't wait to hear what else Sedgrave had to say on the topic of peace. I grabbed the wooden door stopper and jumped to my feet, all thought of pain or injury lost to the fury surging through my veins. How dare he hurt my friend!

"You too," commanded the youth.

I hesitated, surprised by this new tactic.

"Hell no," I snapped, charging forward and slamming the wooden door stopper into the wound on his neck. Evidently, my sudden disobedience came as a complete surprise.

It took every ounce of willpower I had to ignore the spurting blood and grab Josh. He managed to shake off the warlock's control and we both stumbled up the stairs, equally determined to get away. I didn't know a lot about magical practitioners. For all I knew, a warlock could survive the wound I gave him, which would kill most humans without a surgical team standing by.

Josh and I stormed through the flooring company, our movement rattling a few of the samples off their displays. They clanked against the floor, making our exit less than sneaky.

I stumbled through the glass doors, landing on my knees with the last of my strength. "Josh?" I whispered, hoping I hadn't lost him. I felt a pair of hands on my arms as I swayed toward the hard looking sidewalk.

Those hands failed to catch me.

# Chapter Forty-Five

I woke with the knowledge that I hadn't been unconscious for long. I was in my tiny apartment, my gray cat sitting next to me on my bed. I could feel his purr vibrating my arm. I groaned, my burned shoulder, gashed throat, shredded back, and gouged stomach all singing out their own misery. I barely even noticed the discomfort of my wrists where they had been chafed by rope. Something was shifting my body in a way that made the wounds scream out. I inhaled sharply and forced my eyes open.

A face I knew but couldn't name leaned over me, his hands working to bandage my stomach. He paused when he saw that I was awake. I stared into his green eyes, recognition slowly taking place. He was one of the vampires that had tried to sacrifice me. Before he could tie me up again, I bolted off the bed, colliding with a gray-haired man carrying a large green cooler. Again, I couldn't name him, but something about him was familiar.

Before I could make it to the damaged doorway, a pair of hands grabbed me and spun me around. It was Josh. I couldn't forget him. He was my only friend in this world. My body started to shake—a mixture of fear, exhaustion, confusion, and thirst.

"Shhh... Shhh," he whispered as he pulled me to his chest and wrapped his arms around me. I laid my head on his shoulder. "It's okay, Ashley. You're safe."

"We need to bandage her wounds," the green-eyed man said over the sound of something dripping on the floor near my feet. The sound of his voice sent new waves of panic through my body. I cried out and tried to pull away from Josh. "What's wrong with her?"

Again, the man's voice made me try to bolt from the room. Josh held tight to me, keeping me from leaving the small apartment. "I don't know, but she's scared of you. You need to leave."

"What?" he asked, his voice tinged with confusion. "Ashley, what's wrong? You know me."

I didn't know him. And I didn't know how he knew my name. The intimacy of his words scared me even more. In an effort to free myself from Josh's grasp, I jerked in the other direction. It surprised him enough that he loosened his grip. The momentum sent me to the floor. I skidded under the computer desk and pulled my knees up under my chin.

The green-eyed man knelt down to look at me. I huddled tightly, wrapping my arms around my knees, and tried to disappear into the dark corner. The man looked at me, pity making him look soft and friendly, but I didn't trust those gentle eyes. How could I, after what he had done to me?

"Nik, back away," ordered Josh. The green-eyed man, Nik, obeyed with a heated glare directed at Josh. Josh took his place beside the leg of my protective desk.

"Make them leave," I whispered, my eyes pricking with tears. Josh nodded.

"Everyone out," he ordered. The man with the cooler set it down and left without asking a question. Nik hesitated. Before Josh could insist, a new pair of legs appeared from the doorway—I couldn't see the face of the newcomer, hidden as I was under the table.

"Where is she?" I knew that voice. Again, I couldn't recollect a name, but I knew he was powerful. I had an image of him tearing someone's head off. A shudder ran through my battered body. Josh must have pointed at the desk because a moment later the powerful man knelt down to look at me. "She's still bleeding."

I glanced down and saw that I was indeed sitting in a growing puddle of blood. "I think we have bigger problems right now, Mikhail," Josh said in a deferential tone. "She doesn't seem to remember much, including Samuel, Nik, or you. She's freaked out. It may be best if you two leave."

"But she remembers you?"

There was a pause where I assume Josh nodded.

"She seemed to remember us before, during the attack."

"I don't know, but I'm the only one she trusts right now. Hasn't she been through enough?" demanded Josh in a voice that was slowly growing more aggressive.

"Right. C'mon Nik. Call us, Josh, if you need help. We have guards in place."

Nik and Mikhail left, closing the door behind them. After a second, Josh knelt down to look at me. He didn't ask me to crawl out of my hole, which I was very grateful for. Instead, he dragged the green cooler across the floor and opened it. From within, he withdrew a blood bag and slid it toward me. It bumped against my toes, sloshing quietly.

Without taking my eyes off him, I lifted it to my lips. I must have blacked out or something, because the next thing I knew, the ground around me was littered with blood bags, some of them even floating in the pool of blood surrounding me. I felt a little better, though my skin crawled with general filth and my shoulder still burned.

"Ready to come out now?" Josh asked from his perch next to the empty cooler. I noticed he had consumed a few blood bags himself. I glanced around, making sure no one had returned during my little binge. The room was empty. I scooted toward the opening, leaving a trail behind me, but stopped at the edge.

"What happened?"

"They raised Sedgrave, but you didn't die. Do you remember the sacrifice?"

I stopped to think about it. I remembered it. I remembered it happened many different times in many different ways. My eyes started to burn again. I nodded. "Yes."

"And you remember me."

I nodded again.

"But not Nik?"

I thought about it. A few images came to me. Him crouching to defend me, a few words of ridicule, him lighting a tree on fire, him standing in a Civil War movie. No, that wasn't right.

"Maybe," I hedged. I didn't want Josh to know just how close I was to a complete breakdown. Surely he didn't need to know that I couldn't remember how I had become a vampire, or what my parents looked like, or if I'd gone to college. I knew him and that the gray lump of fur staring at me was a fae, but that was about it.

"You don't remember Nik or Mikhail?" Josh asked hesitantly.

I shook my head.

"Can you tell me what you do remember?"

I swallowed the tennis ball that had somehow lodged itself in my throat. "Um... "

"Just tell me anything you feel certain about. Who am I?" he asked when I didn't respond.

"Josh. You are my friend. You... you found me when I was in trouble, but I don't remember why I was in trouble."

Josh smiled and nodded. "What else?"

"Is the cat a... a fae?" I asked, the word sounding wrong to my ears.

He laughed. "Yes."

"What's wrong with her?" another voice asked. I glanced around frantically, wondering if someone had slipped back into the apartment. Josh pointed at the gray cat, who was staring at me.

"The cat is a fae, so he can talk."

I nodded slowly, taking in what he said.

"What else do you remember?"

"This is my home."

Josh nodded.

But that was it. I couldn't recall anything else. For a few fleeting moments, I saw glimpses, but they seemed more like windows into someone else's life. I couldn't claim them as my own. I felt hot needles pricking my eyes. I blinked furiously only to feel moisture roll down my cheeks.

Josh nodded slowly. "Maybe Periphetes will know something about this. We'll find a way to get your memories back," he insisted as he extended a hand to help me up. I nodded and took his proffered hand. "For now, let's get you cleaned up."

Before we could move toward the edge of my bed, a soft knock resounded on my thin door. Josh looked at me a moment before waving me over to the bathroom—not that my toilet would be much of a defense against anything we'd faced thus far tonight. Nonetheless, I obeyed. He stepped up to the door and spoke.

"Who is it?"

"She's hurt," stated a familiar female voice from the other side. It sounded aged, yet playful.

Josh cracked the door open and peered through the narrow slit. From where I stood in the bathroom doorway, I could see a shocking head of white hair. I wracked my brain, trying to remember who this woman was. Josh glanced over his shoulder at me. Evidently, my face showed my confusion.

"It's okay, Ashley. It's Helen, the wizard who helped us figure out that Richard was after daywalkers."

My brain worked slowly as I pieced his words together. The idea of this white-haired woman being a wizard seemed right, felt right. But who was Richard? I got an image of a powerful, yet portly, man waddling around me and causing me pain. Slowly, Josh's statement made sense. I nodded with more confidence.

Josh opened the door the rest of the way and allowed Helen to enter. She eyed Josh, whose small wounds were completely healed. My more extensive trauma—such as the sword-shaped whole in my stomach—were a few steps behind. Her eyes ran up to my shoulder. I looked down to see burned flesh through the tattered remains of my shirt.

"How did you know it was all over or that she was hurt or where to find us?" Josh asked, the questions spilling out, one on top of another before Helen could even open her mouth to respond.

"Josh," she sighed in a patronizing voice. "I keep my ear to the ground." Helen stepped forward and gently pulled a small piece of fabric from my shoulder. I hissed in pain. "He cast sunlight on you."

"Then why isn't it healing?" Josh asked. "We heal from sunlight very quickly, especially with the amount of blood she's consumed.

"Some wizards and warlocks can make the effects more concentrated, longer lasting. Sedgrave is very powerful. But I brought something that may help."

"What's in it?" I demanded. I wasn't about to have someone I kinda, sorta knew lather me up with some mysterious substance.

"Number of herbs and oils brewed together with a little magical touch. Here, smell. Good? Now sit down," she ordered. I obeyed more out of confusion than willingness and perched on the corner of my mattress. Helen handed the small jar to Josh and began carefully prying away the charred fabric from my flesh. "It includes aloe vera, of course, green tea, calendula, plantain, and witch hazel," she added. I got the impression she was telling me this, not for my own edification, but to help distract me from the work she was doing. I felt grateful. Though her fingers were cold and gentle, each piece of fabric removed constituted a new experiment in torture. I felt an unfamiliar urge to turn around and rip her head off. Was this how it always felt to be a vampire? If so, I wasn't sure I was cut out for it.

These musings felt familiar. Had I debated this with myself before?

Finally, she smeared the magical salve across my shoulder, down my arm, and across my collarbone. I sighed. The salve instantly relieved the pain and sunk deep into the burned tissue. Before I could truly appreciate the relief, Josh stepped in and began covering the burned area with bandages. Though the salve was still dulling the pain, it couldn't keep Josh's rough hands from bringing back old, painful sensations. I held my breath as he secured the last of the bandaging. Even without a shirt, I looked more like a mummy than a person; nearly every square inch of my upper body was covered in bandages.

"Apply the salve every time you change her bandages, and let me know if the burn gets any worse," Helen said by way of parting and headed for the door.

"Wait," exclaimed Josh as he reached for her arm. Just before his fingers touched her sleeve, he seemed to recall who she was and withdrew his hand. "Do you know anything about why Ashley would have lost her memory after the ritual?"

Helen smiled, as though Josh's statement had put the puzzle pieces together for her. Her eyes darted to where I sat on the bed and back to Josh. "I couldn't tell you. I wasn't at the ritual."

"No, but you knew when it went down and when it was finished."

"So I did. I don't know why she lost her memories. Or why she's even alive for that matter. But trust me when I say Ashley will be key in the weeks and months ahead."

With this final, ominous statement, Helen slipped out of my apartment. Josh followed her to the door and pushed my dresser across the entrance. The deadbolt was broken and unlikely to do any good if someone came visiting. Just as Josh finished adjusting the dresser, a ghostly image of a small fluffy terrier burst through the bottom drawer. It yipped playfully as it trotted around my tiny apartment, sniffing different pieces of furniture. Muffler hissed and spat at the dog—the flecks of spittle going straight through the transparent image—before jumping up onto the bed. He growled deep in his chest and glared down at the dog, who seemed completely oblivious to Muffler's angry complaints.

"Ah!" I howled, as I pulled my feet up onto the bed, as though the dog had been a giant spider. "What is that?"

"You don't remember the dog at the graveyard?"

"I don't even remember the graveyard."

Josh spent the next few minutes describing our trip to the graveyard. Half way through his story, images of the dark evening began to return to me. "So the dog's been following me around ever since."

A smile pulled on my lips. Despite everything that had happened—whether I remembered it or not—I couldn't help but laugh at the idea of Josh being haunted by a dog. Though I only had a few detailed memories of Josh, a feeling of friendship and camaraderie surrounded me when I thought of him. I knew instinctively just how annoyed he'd be with his present situation.

"Damn yapping dog," he complained as he swung his foot through the dog's image. I chuckled at his failure to vent his frustration. It felt good to laugh, as though, for that brief moment, I wasn't completely lost and clueless. "You should get some rest," Josh added when he noticed my smile fade.

I nodded slowly as I crawled to the head of the bed and climbed under the bloodstained blankets. "Whaboutyou?" I slurred, my eyelids drooping despite my effort to stay awake.

"I'll stand guard. Someone has to. We don't know when Sedgrave might attack again."

Too true, I thought as I drifted off to sleep.

It wasn't really an end. More like a very gory beginning.

Thank you for taking the time to read my silly story.

Whether you enjoyed it or not,

Please consider writing a  review.

Reviews help other readers make informed decisions

And help authors improve their art.

www.facebook.com/charissadufourauthor

www.twitter.com/charissadufour

For a preview of  Sucked Away, Book 2 in the Series That Just Plain Sucks, continue reading.

Chapter One

...

I nodded slowly as I crawled to the head of the bed and climbed under the bloodstained blankets. "Whaboutyou?" I slurred, my eyelids drooping despite my effort to stay awake.

"I'll stand guard. Someone has to. We don't know when Sedgrave might attack again."

Too true, I thought as I drifted off to sleep.

It wasn't really an end. More like a very gory beginning.

Josh leaned over my shoulder, watching my progress as I typed the last few lines of my newest book. I had a feeling my publisher would be blown away with the sudden transformation in my writing. It wasn't a work of fiction like my past efforts; it was my real-life story. Granted, I wouldn't be telling anyone that. They'd lock me up in a padded room and swallow the key. I couldn't blame them for that response. I had trouble believing the sudden change my life had endured.

Endured was the right word. My first week as a vampire had been full of clinging tree faeries, slobbering werewolves, frozen houses, and vampire-sacrifices. I'd survived it, but just barely. I now spent my days and nights cooped up in my studio apartment, trying to reassemble my life. It wasn't going well.

I had a lot of ground to cover. Granted, I had been nearly tortured to death—a difficult feat considering how hearty we vampires are. I'd been whipped, skewered, burned, etc., but the worst of it wasn't what had happened to my body. The ritual, which we thought required my life, had slowly taken my memories—my very essence. So I guess in some ways it had taken my life, it just did it in a way we hadn't expected. I had regained a lot of them, but not all.

"This is fabulous," whispered Josh from his position just above my right shoulder. Though he spoke softly enough, it startled me, pulling me from my own thoughts.

"Thanks," I murmured.

"Hardly," sighed my cat from his position on the desk next to my antiquated computer. Tereus was a gray Scottish Fold. Though I'd named him Muffler when I first got him, he had asked me to call him Tereus after I discovered he could talk. It turned out my cat was really a very old and powerful fae trapped in a cat's body after he impregnated a friend's sister. "You want a fabulous book read Les Miserables."

"Don't listen to him," suggested Josh. "Hugo rambles."

Josh was the one member of Mikhail's seethe that I thought of as a friend. The others I put up with out of self-preservation. I had no chance of survival if I wasn't part of a seethe. They provided support and safety during rough times, which already proved to be a necessity in my life. I just didn't like it. I'd been a lone wolf—forgive the phrasing—for such a long time, I wasn't sure if I could conform to a group again.

"C'mon. You should start getting ready for tonight," said Josh, still keeping his voice soft; he knew how easily I was startled.

He gently placed his hands on my shoulders and guided me away from the computer. Josh had spent many hours, days even, helping me recover. He'd even gotten me wireless internet so that he could work from my apartment. Though Josh had been a Jazz pianist when he was human, he was presently trying his hand at trading stocks online. So far, he was barely paying his own bills.

Granted, he had fifty years of savings he could tap into if necessary.

I forced my shoulders to relax under his hands. I felt a little better after getting the story down on paper, but not well enough to face this night. It was my Joining—a short ceremony to finalize my initiation into the seethe, followed by "one hell of a party," or at least that's how Josh had described it. Whoever had been put in charge of my Joining had decided to make it a masquerade. Josh was very excited, while I was considering a way to run away. This would be my first time out of my apartment since the attempted sacrifice. I say attempted because I didn't technically die.

Nevertheless, the warlock had been freed.

I watched Josh move to my closet and pull out the dress someone had purchased for me. I took it and silently went to my bathroom to put it on. Josh stayed, knowing I'd need help with the laces. I slipped into it, the girlish part of me reveling in the stiff fabric that draped from my hips in heaps of emerald loveliness. The bust was tight and strapless. I held it on as I came out of the bathroom and allowed Josh to lace up the back, which left my pale skin half revealed to the small of my back. Just as he finished, a small, half transparent puppy burst through my closed door.

It bounced around the room, ignoring Tereus as the cat jumped onto the bed and hissed at it. It came up to where Josh and I stood and tried to bite the lower folds of my dress. We both turned away and ignored it. The ghost dog had been haunting Josh ever since we dug up its twisted mistress, who had chosen to be buried with her dog.

"You look beautiful. I got something to go with it. Now, this is just to borrow for the night. So don't lose it," he added before opening a felt box.

I felt just like Julia Roberts as I stared at the overwhelming display of silver, diamonds, and emeralds lying on the cushion.

I smiled reflexively. "It's gorgeous! Josh, where did you get it?"

"I know a guy."

I smiled again, the movement feeling unnatural, and turned around so he could put it on. Josh—or a sick display of diamonds—was the only person who could make me smile.

"Now let's get your hair and makeup done before your date arrives."

I tensed at the thought. I couldn't help it. Nik had insisted on escorting me to my Joining. He claimed he had the right considering how much work he put into keeping me alive. Never mind that he'd wanted to kill me himself when I was first turned, or the fact that Josh had asked me first.

I had a long list of enemies at the time and Nikolai considered me a threat to the seethe's safety. He wasn't wrong, but Mikhail had chosen to protect me, mostly just to piss off Richard, the Lacey seethe's primus. Evidently, when you're a couple hundred years old that's enough motivation to risk countless lives. I didn't get it.

"It'll be okay," Josh said as he pushed me toward the bathroom. My curling iron was already plugged in and hot. I sat on the toilet lid while he curled my hair. The ghost dog ran into the bathroom, lost control on the linoleum, and skidded through the edge of my tub. I couldn't tell if it had any control when it interacted with the world around it or not, but occasionally it couldn't go through a wall or chair leg. Today evidently it was the floor that it connected with.

"Where'd you learn to curl a girl's hair?" I asked, immensely grateful that he could.

"I studied a few years of college theater. I know my way around a bobby-pin."

I laughed. It felt good. I hadn't spent much of the autumn laughing. In fact, this might have been the first time. It wasn't that I was depressed. Rather, I couldn't remember what was funny and what wasn't.

Josh wanted me to allow Jordan and Chloe to visit—my only two friends from my human days. The problem was, I knew if I saw them I wouldn't be able to carry on a normal conversation, not to mention I would probably kill them. Josh had made the annoyingly accurate point that if I didn't start getting out, I'd never recover the rest of my memories, or gain any control over my blood lust.

Granted, there was another problem, and one I refused to mention to Josh. To see Jordan and Chloe I would have to see Nik. They were now both Nikolai's sheep—Jordan because he'd stumbled upon us after I'd been horribly wounded and Nik had to control him; Chloe because Jordan wanted her to be in on the secret. They now spent half their time with Nikolai in his mansion.

It would take a lot more than my love for Jordan and Chloe to get me into Nik's mansion again. I absolutely loathed Nik. It wasn't just the wanting to kill me when I first came to the seethe. In fact, I was mostly over that. After all, he had saved my life many times since that initial introduction.

It was something else entirely.

I knew that he had, at one time during his long life, sacrificed one of my ancestors in an attempt to raise Sedgrave, the maniacal though charismatic warlock who could create daywalkers. Granted, that was just a parlor trick. His real skill was manipulating politics—a much more subtle and terrifying gift.

Still, Nik had tried to bring him back to life, and yet, he never mentioned it to any of us when we were actively trying to prevent that from happening. I hadn't told anyone that I had seen him in one of my freaky ritual visions. In fact, no one even knew I had been transported back to all the other attempts at raising Sedgrave.

I couldn't figure out how to bring the subject up. In lieu of coming up with a plan, I chose to avoid him—until tonight. I couldn't get out of it. The party was for me after all, and I couldn't tell him he couldn't escort me. He'd saved my life after all; he'd earned the right. Besides, if I refused him, he'd want to know why, and I wasn't ready for that conversation.

"You doing okay?" Josh asked as he finished tucking the delicate curls of red hair into a beautiful design.

"I guess. Don't really want to do this."

"I know. But you need to. You need to start going out, being around people."

"People?" I asked.

"You know what I mean."

"Josh... I can't even remember what my mother looked like... or if I liked chocolate chip cookies when I was human. I'm not sure I even know who I am anymore... and you want me to go out and... mingle?"

Josh grabbed my knee and spun me around on the toilet lid until I faced him. "Then spend time with those who do know you. We'll remind you."

"Who, other than you, knows me in the seethe?"

"Nik."

I waved my hand, dismissing the idea. Josh took me by the shoulders and gave me a gentle shake.

"What is this thing with you and Nik?"

"It's nothing."

"That's a load of bullshit. Whatever it is, you need to talk to him. Get it out in the open. He can't figure out why you've avoided him for the past two months."

I stood up, pushing Josh out of the bathroom so that I could put my own makeup on. I wasn't sure why I needed makeup when I would be adding a mask, but Josh seemed to think it was necessary. I was halfway through the process when Josh opened my front door.

"Fine, be stubborn. I'm out. Nik will be here soon. See ya there."

Chapter Two

I finished the makeup and carefully put the mask on. It was emerald green with silver detailing and black and silver feathers that curled up over my head, almost like a crown. Josh had designed my hair style to let the feathers disappear into the curls. It was amazing, much better than anything I could have managed.

I had just applied the last bobby pin when I heard the exterior door open and recognizable steps resounded up the narrow stairs.

I gulped, forcing the lump down my throat. My stomach gave a little uncomfortable jump at the thought of seeing him again. I quickly ran through a few options for greetings. They all seemed flat and artificial.

I moved out of the bathroom and called "Come in" before he could knock. Nik entered, wearing a very chic and modern-looking tuxedo. He stopped in his tracks to stare. I started wondering if something was terribly wrong—like a blood stain on my new gown.

"Wow," he sighed. "You look amazing."

"Err... thanks." It didn't' feel like an adequate response to his compliment, but my muddled brain couldn't think of anything else to say.

I grabbed the black, elbow length gloves from the foot of my bed and followed him out the door. I slipped them on while heading for the bottom of the steps. When we reached the L-shaped courtyard of my apartment complex he took my hand and placed it in the crook of his elbow. It felt old fashion and uncomfortably intimate.

"I've missed you," he said out of nowhere.

He kept his voice soft; no doubt Josh had warned him how easily startled I was. I nearly forgot to keep walking, I was so shocked. Though I realized he no longer hated me, I had no idea his feelings had transformed enough to actually miss me.

"How have you been doing these last two months?" he asked when I didn't respond.

I knew perfectly well that Josh had been reporting to Nik and Mikhail about my recovery.

"Fine," I stated flatly. I knew I wasn't doing a very good job of hiding my antagonism, but I couldn't find the energy to care. I couldn't seem to regain my old, vampire vitality no matter how much blood I drank, and despite my recent snack, I felt drained.

"I wish you'd come out to the mansion. I know Jordan and Chloe want to see you."

"Yeah... I should do that," I agreed, trying to keep this from becoming a fight while not committing to anything.

"How 'bout tomorrow night?"

"Maybe. I'll have to see. I just finished another book and I'm sure my publisher is gonna want to talk about it... a lot."

"Of course. Josh told me you were writing again. Using our experience for a plot."

My stomach did another little acrobatic flip. Was he not okay with me using our story?

"Yeah. I hope that's okay. Initially, it was just to help me regain my memories. Josh helped a lot with the blank parts. But it turned out really good... and I think it could be a big turning point for me... as a writer. But only if you're okay with it," I added in an effort to get myself to stop babbling.

"Of course. It's fine. How's that going, by the way? The memory issue," Nik asked as he opened the door to his very sleek Martin Vanquish.

I tried not to remember the first time I'd gotten into his fancy car. He typically saved it for special occasions though he'd been driving it when he was first assigned to keep me alive. Thankfully, it hadn't been destroyed like his Land Rover. This one, I was told, cost a lot more.

"It's fine," I responded as he slid into his own seat.

He started the car and gently pressed down on the gas. His usual style of driving was "the faster the better," but evidently he was not in a hurry. For once I wish he'd speed up. I glanced over in his direction. He looked uncomfortable and frustrated. I had no doubt my short answers were annoying him.

"Josh says there are a lot of things you still can't remember."

I began to ground my teeth together but stopped when I realized he would be able to hear it. Was there anything Josh hadn't told him?

I shrugged. "I'll get them back, eventually."

"And if you don't?"

"Life'll go on. Not a lot I can do about it."

He nodded slowly, taking in what I had said. I knew it sounded like I was depressed. Really I was just pragmatic. If I couldn't regain those memories there wasn't a darn thing I, or anyone else, could do about it. So why fret. I had bigger issues, like my self-control, to consider.

Josh and I had been working on it. He would wait until I was thirsty and drink a blood bag in front of me. These tests hadn't always ended well. Josh had endured a few bruises and even more curse words from me, but I was doing a little better.

I glanced out the window and watched the tiny beads of moisture appear and condense into a stream that progressed toward the back of the car. Like any other December night, it was raining, though I thought I saw a few crunchy drops. Maybe it would snow tonight.

The silence dragged on, but I didn't mind. It was better than talking with Nik. When we talked, we tended to fight. I heard Nik clear his throat, but I refused to look at him. I didn't have the energy to fight, even with Nik. I didn't want to talk, and really hoped he would take the hint.

"So, what are you going to call the book?"

"Not sure. Josh wants me to call it 'Sucked In' but I'm not sold on it."

I felt more than saw Nik nod as we pulled to a stop next to the restaurant. The sign reading "The Viewer's Lounge" glowed above the glass doors. It was a rather posh watering hole that I had never been able to afford. In fact, I still couldn't. It was the front for the seethe and had clearly been closed down for the occasion. The doors were closed with their glass panels covered in white silk so that we couldn't see inside. The short walk from the street to the door was covered in red carpet and protected from the Western Washington elements by a white canvas tent. Winding up the poles of the tent were many tiny Christmas lights swathed in delicate tulle, making the light even softer.

Nik stopped at the entrance, being sure to come at it so that my door was at the curb. Two men with matching red vests jumped away from a nondescript black tent hidden in the shadows. One raced to my door and helped me out, being sure to keep my dress from touching any puddles. I held my breath, knowing by his heartbeat that he was human. The other young man opened an umbrella and escorted Nik to the protective covering.

Nikolai smiled down at me as he slipped my gloved hand into his arm again and whispered in my ear, "You ready?"

"Why are there humans here?" I asked with what little breath I had left in my lungs.

"I'm right here. I won't let you do anything naughty."

I could hear a smile in his voice even though I was still staring at the men standing by the front doors in cheap, off-the-rack tuxes. They were doing a good job of ignoring our private conversation even though it clearly concerned them. I swallowed, trying to force the first trickle of desire from rearing its ugly head.

Nik nodded to them and one of them pressed a button on his earpiece. "She's here," he said in a business voice.

From inside the main room, I heard the music stop and the voices go silent. I swallowed again, this time out of nervousness. I hadn't realized exactly how central I was to this whole thing. Suddenly I felt like a debutante, and I wasn't enjoying it. The two men waited for a short half second before swinging the large doors open.

If I hadn't already been holding my breath, it would have caught in my chest. The scene before me was beyond anything I'd ever seen. Gorgeous, decadent—but in a really morbid sort of way.

To read the next chapter in Ashley's story check out Sucked Away.

Or Continue reading for a sneak peek.

Thank you for reading my super silly story.

Whether you liked it or not, please consider taking the time to write a review.

Honest reviews help readers make informed choices and help authors improve their art.

Thank you.

Follow Charissa Dufour at:

<https://www.facebook.com/Charissadufourauthor>

<https://twitter.com/CharissaDufour>

https://www.instagram.com/

# Works by Charissa Dufour

The Series that Just Plain Sucks

Life Sucks (Prequel short story)

Sucked In (Book 1)

Sucked Away (Book 2)

That Sucked (Book 3)

Or purchase in a box set:

The Series that Just Plain Sucks: The Complete Series (Books 1-3)

Suck It Up (A little something extra. Can be read at any time in the series)

The Dothan Chronicles

Bought (Prequel short story)

Torn (Book 1)

Lost (Book 2)

Alone (Book 3)

The Void Series

Cornered Magic (Book 1)

Misguided Allies (Book 2)

Balanced Chaos (Book 3)

The Echoes of Sol Series

Trust and Treachery (Book 1)

Broken and Hunted (Book 2)

Profit and Peril (Book 3)

Mayhem and Mutiny Coming early March 2017

# Sneak Peek at Sucked Away
Chapter One

I woke with the knowledge that I hadn't been unconscious for long. I was in my tiny apartment, my gray cat sitting next to me on my bed. I could feel his purr vibrating my arm. I groaned; my burned shoulder, gashed throat, shredded back, and gouged stomach all singing out their own misery. I barely even noticed the discomfort of my wrists where they had been chafed by rope. Something was shifting my body in a way that made the wounds scream out. I inhaled sharply and forced my eyes open.

A face I knew, but couldn't name, leaned over me, his hands working to bandage my stomach. He paused when he saw that I was awake. I stared into his green eyes, recognition slowly taking place. He was one of the vampires that had tried to sacrifice me. Before he could tie me up again, I bolted off the bed, colliding with a gray-haired man carrying a large, green cooler. I couldn't name him either, but something about him was familiar.

Before I could make it to the damaged doorway, a pair of hands grabbed me and spun me around. It was Josh. I couldn't forget him. He was my only friend in this world. My body started to shake—a mixture of fear, exhaustion, confusion, and thirst.

"Shhh... shhh," he whispered as he pulled me to his chest, and wrapped his arms around me.

I laid my head on his shoulder.

"It's okay, Ashley. You're safe."

"We need to bandage her wounds," the green-eyed man said over the sound of something dripping on the floor near my feet.

The sound of his voice sent new waves of panic through my body. I cried out and tried to pull away from Josh.

"What's wrong with her?" asked the strange man.

Again, the man's voice made me try to bolt from the room. Josh held tight to me, keeping me from leaving the small apartment.

"I don't know, but she's scared of you. You need to leave."

"What?" he asked, his voice tinged with confusion. "Ashley, what's wrong? You know me."

I didn't know him. And I didn't know how he knew my name. The intimacy of his words scared me even more. In an effort to free myself from Josh's grasp, I jerked in the other direction. It surprised him enough that he loosened his grip. The momentum sent me to the floor. I skidded under the computer desk and pulled my knees up under my chin.

The green-eyed man knelt down to look at me. I huddled tightly, wrapping my arms around my knees, and tried to disappear into the dark corner. The man looked at me, pity making him look soft and friendly, but I didn't trust those gentle eyes. How could I, after what he had done to me?

"Nik, back away," ordered Josh.

The green-eyed man, Nik, obeyed with a heated glare directed at Josh. Josh took his place beside the leg of my protective desk.

"Make them leave," I whispered, my eyes pricking with tears.

Josh nodded.

"Everyone out," he ordered.

The man with the cooler set it down and left without asking a question. Nik hesitated. Before Josh could insist, a new pair of legs appeared from the doorway—I couldn't see the face of the newcomer, hidden as I was under the table.

"Where is she?"

I knew that voice. Again, I couldn't recollect a name, but I knew he was powerful. I had an image of him tearing someone's head off. A shudder ran through my battered body. Josh must have pointed at the desk because a moment later the powerful man knelt down to look at me.

"She's still bleeding."

I glanced down and saw that I was indeed sitting in a growing puddle of blood.

"I think we have bigger problems right now, Mikhail," Josh said in a deferential tone. "She doesn't seem to remember much, including Samuel, Nik, or you. She's freaked out. It may be best if you two leave."

"But she remembers you?"

There was a pause where I assume Josh nodded.

"She seemed to remember us before, during the attack."

"I don't know, but I'm the only one she trusts right now. Hasn't she been through enough?" demanded Josh in a voice that was slowly growing more aggressive.

"Right. C'mon Nik. Call us, Josh, if you need help. We have guards in place."

Nik and Mikhail left, closing the door behind them. After a second, Josh knelt down to look at me. He didn't ask me to crawl out of my hole, which I was very grateful for. Instead, he dragged the green cooler across the floor and opened it. From within, he withdrew a blood bag and slid it toward me. It bumped against my toes, sloshing quietly.

Without taking my eyes off him, I lifted it to my lips. I must have blacked out or something, because the next thing I knew, the ground around me was littered with blood bags, some of them even floating in the pool of blood surrounding me. I felt a little better, though my skin crawled with general filth, and my shoulder still burned.

"Ready to come out now?" Josh asked from his perch next to the empty cooler. I noticed he had consumed a few blood bags himself. I glanced around, making sure no one had returned during my little binge. The room was empty. I scooted toward the opening, leaving a trail behind me, but stopped at the edge.

"What happened?"

"They raised Sedgrave, but you didn't die. Do you remember the sacrifice?"

I stopped to think about it. I remembered it. I remembered it happened many different times in many different ways. My eyes started to burn again. I nodded. "Yes."

"And you remember me."

I nodded again.

"But not Nik?"

I thought about it. A few images came to me. Him crouching to defend me, a few words of ridicule, him lighting a tree on fire, him standing in a Civil War movie. No, that wasn't right.

"Maybe," I hedged.

I didn't want Josh to know just how close I was to a complete breakdown. Surely he didn't need to know that I couldn't remember how I had become a vampire, or what my parents looked like, or if I'd gone to college. I knew him and that the gray lump of fur staring at me was a fae, but that was about it.

"You don't remember Nik or Mikhail?" Josh asked hesitantly.

I shook my head.

"Can you tell me what you do remember?"

I swallowed the tennis ball that had somehow lodged itself in my throat. "Um... "

"Just tell me anything you feel certain about. Who am I?" he asked when I didn't respond.

"Josh. You are my friend. You... you found me when I was in trouble, but I don't remember why I was in trouble."

Josh smiled and nodded. "What else?"

"Is the cat a... a fae?" I asked, the word sounding wrong to my ears.

He laughed. "Yes."

"What's wrong with her?" another voice asked.

I glanced around frantically, wondering if someone had slipped back into the apartment. Josh pointed at the gray cat, who was staring at me.

"The cat is a fae, so he can talk."

I nodded slowly, taking in what he said.

"What else do you remember?" Josh prompted.

"This is my home."

Josh nodded.

But that was it. I couldn't recall anything else. For a few fleeting moments, I saw glimpses, but they seemed more like windows into someone else's life. I couldn't claim them as my own. I felt hot needles pricking my eyes. I blinked furiously, only to feel moisture roll down my cheeks.

Josh nodded slowly. "Maybe Periphetes will know something about this. We'll find a way to get your memories back," he insisted as he extended a hand to help me up.

I nodded and took his proffered hand.

"For now, let's get you cleaned up."

Before we could move toward the edge of my bed, a soft knock sounded on my thin door. Josh looked at me a moment before waving me to the bathroom—not that my toilet would be much of a defense against anything we'd faced thus far tonight. Nonetheless, I obeyed. He stepped up to the door and spoke.

"Who is it?"

"She's hurt," stated a familiar female voice from the other side. It sounded aged, yet playful.

Josh cracked the door open and peered through the narrow slit. From where I stood in the bathroom doorway, I could see a shocking head of white hair. I wracked my brain, trying to remember who this woman was. Josh glanced over his shoulder at me. Evidently, my face showed my confusion.

"It's okay, Ashley. It's Helen, the wizard who helped us figure out that Richard was after daywalkers."

My brain worked slowly as I pieced his words together. The idea of this white-haired woman being a wizard seemed right, felt right. But who was Richard? I got an image of a powerful, yet portly, man waddling around me and causing me pain. Slowly, Josh's statement made sense. I nodded with more confidence.

Josh opened the door the rest of the way and allowed Helen to enter. She eyed Josh, whose small wounds were completely healed. My more extensive trauma—including the sword-shaped whole in my stomach—were a few steps behind. Her eyes ran up to my shoulder. I looked down to see burned flesh through the tattered remains of my shirt.

"How did you know it was all over, or that she was hurt, or where to find us?" Josh asked, the questions spilling out, one on top of another before Helen could even open her mouth to respond.

"Josh," she sighed in a patronizing voice. "I keep my ear to the ground."

Helen stepped forward and gently pulled a small piece of fabric from my shoulder. I hissed in pain.

"He cast sunlight on you."

"Then why isn't it healing?" Josh asked. "We heal from sunlight very quickly, especially with the amount of blood she's consumed.

"Some wizards and warlocks can make the effects more concentrated, longer lasting. Sedgrave is very powerful, but I brought something that may help."

"What's in it?" I demanded. I wasn't about to have someone I kinda, sorta knew lather me up with some mysterious substance.

"A number of herbs and oils brewed together with a little magical touch. Here, smell. Good? Now sit down," she ordered.

I obeyed more out of confusion than willingness and perched on the corner of my mattress. Helen handed the small jar to Josh and began carefully prying away the charred fabric from my flesh.

"It includes aloe vera, of course, green tea, calendula, plantain, and witch hazel," she added.

I got the impression she was telling me this, not for my own edification, but to help distract me from the work she was doing. I felt grateful. Though her fingers were cold and gentle, each piece of fabric removed constituted a new experiment in torture. I felt an unfamiliar urge to turn around and rip her head off. Was this how it always felt to be a vampire? If so, I wasn't sure I was cut out for it.

These musings felt familiar. Had I debated this with myself before?

Finally, she smeared the magical salve across my shoulder, down my arm, and across my collarbone. I sighed. The salve instantly relieved the pain and sunk deep into the burned tissue. Before I could truly appreciate the relief, Josh stepped in and began covering the burned area with bandages. Though the salve was still dulling the pain, it couldn't keep Josh's rough hands from bringing back old, painful sensations. I held my breath as he secured the last of the bandaging. Even without a shirt, I looked more like a mummy than a person; nearly every square inch of my upper body was covered in bandages.

"Apply the salve every time you change her bandages, and let me know if the burn gets any worse," Helen said by way of parting and headed for the door.

"Wait," exclaimed Josh as he reached for her arm. Just before his fingers touched her sleeve, he seemed to recall who she was and withdrew his hand. "Do you know anything about why Ashley would have lost her memory after the ritual?"

Helen smiled, as though Josh's statement had put the puzzle pieces together for her. Her eyes darted to where I sat on the bed and back to Josh.

"I couldn't tell you. I wasn't at the ritual."

"No, but you knew when it went down and when it was finished."

"So I did. I don't know why she lost her memories. Or why she's even alive for that matter. But trust me when I say, Ashley will be key in the weeks and months ahead."

With this final, ominous statement, Helen slipped out of my apartment. Josh followed her to the door and pushed my dresser across the entrance. The deadbolt was broken and unlikely to do any good if someone came visiting. Just as Josh finished adjusting the dresser, a ghostly image of a small, fluffy terrier burst through the bottom drawer. It yipped playfully as it trotted around my tiny apartment, sniffing different pieces of furniture. Muffler hissed and spat at the dog—the flecks of spittle going straight through the transparent image—before jumping up onto the bed. He growled deep in his chest and glared down at the dog, who seemed completely oblivious to Muffler's angry complaints.

"Ah!" I howled, as I pulled my feet up onto the bed, as though the dog had been a giant spider. "What is that?"

"You don't remember the dog at the graveyard?"

"I don't even remember the graveyard."

Josh spent the next few minutes describing our trip to the graveyard. Halfway through his story, images of the dark evening began to return to me.

"And so the dog's been following me around ever since," he said in a defeated tone.

A smile pulled on my lips. Despite everything that had happened—whether I remembered it or not—I couldn't help but laugh at the idea of Josh being haunted by a dog. Though I only had a few detailed memories of Josh, a feeling of friendship and camaraderie surrounded me when I thought of him. I knew instinctively just how annoyed he'd be with his present situation.

"Damn, yapping dog," he complained as he swung his foot through the dog's image.

I chuckled at his failure to vent his frustration. It felt good to laugh, as though, for that brief moment, I wasn't completely lost and clueless.

"You should get some rest," Josh added when he noticed my smile fade.

I nodded slowly as I crawled to the head of the bed and climbed under the bloodstained blankets.

"Whaboutyou?" I slurred, my eyelids drooping despite my effort to stay awake.

"I'll stand guard. Someone has to. We don't know when Sedgrave might attack again."

Too true, I thought as I drifted off to sleep.

It wasn't really an end. More like a very gory beginning.

Josh leaned over my shoulder, watching my progress as I typed the last few lines of my newest book. I had a feeling my publisher would be blown away with the sudden transformation in my writing. It wasn't a work of fiction like my past efforts; it was my real-life story. Granted, I wouldn't be telling anyone that. They'd lock me up in a padded room and swallow the key. I couldn't blame them for that response. Even I had trouble believing the sudden change my life had endured.

Endured was the right word. My first week as a vampire had been full of clinging tree faeries, slobbering werewolves, frozen houses, and vampire-sacrifices. I'd survived it, but just barely. I now spent my days and nights cooped up in my studio apartment, trying to reassemble my life. It wasn't going well.

I had a lot of ground to cover. Granted, I had been nearly tortured to death—a difficult feat considering how hearty we vampires are. I'd been whipped, skewered, and burned, but the worst of it wasn't what had happened to my body. The ritual, which we thought required my life, had taken my memories—my very essence. So I guess in some ways it had taken my life, it just did it in a way none of us expected. I had regained a lot of my history, but not all.

"This is fabulous," whispered Josh from his position just above my right shoulder. Though he spoke softly enough, it startled me, pulling me from my own thoughts.

"Thanks," I murmured.

"Hardly," sighed my cat from his position on the desk, next to my antiquated computer.

Tereus was a gray Scottish Fold. Though I'd named him Muffler when I first got him, he had asked me to call him Tereus after I discovered he could talk. It turned out my cat was really a very old and powerful fae, trapped in a cat's body after he impregnated a friend's sister.

"You want a fabulous book read Les Miserables."

"Don't listen to him," urged Josh. "Hugo rambles."

Josh was the one member of Mikhail's seethe that I thought of as a friend. The others I put up with out of self-preservation. I had no chance of survival if I wasn't part of a seethe. They provided support and safety during rough times, which already proved to be a necessity in my life. I just didn't like it. I'd been a lone wolf—forgive the phrasing—for such a long time, I wasn't sure if I could conform to a group again.

"C'mon. You should start getting ready for tonight," said Josh, still keeping his voice soft; he knew how easily I was startled.

He gently placed his hands on my shoulders and guided me away from the computer. Josh had spent many hours, days even, helping me recover. He'd even gotten me wireless internet so that he could work from my apartment. Though Josh had been a jazz pianist when he was human, he was presently trying his hand at trading stocks online. So far, he was barely paying his own bills.

Granted, he had fifty years of savings he could tap into if necessary.

I forced my shoulders to relax under his hands. I felt a little better after getting the story down on paper, but not well enough to face this night. It was my Joining—a short ceremony to finalize my initiation into the seethe, followed by "one hell of a party," or at least that's how Josh had described it. Whoever had been put in charge of my Joining had decided to make it a masquerade. Josh was very excited, while I was considering ways to run away. This would be my first time out of my apartment since the attempted sacrifice; attempted, as I didn't technically die.

Nevertheless, a powerful warlock had been freed.

I watched Josh move to my closet and pull out the dress someone had purchased for me. I took it and silently went to my bathroom to put it on. Josh stayed, knowing I'd need help with the laces. I slipped into it, the girlish part of me reveling in the stiff fabric that draped from my hips in heaps of emerald loveliness. The bust was tight and strapless. I held it on as I came out of the bathroom and allowed Josh to lace up the back, which left my pale skin half revealed to the small of my back. Just as he finished, a small, half transparent puppy burst through my closed door.

It bounced around the room, ignoring Tereus as the cat jumped onto the bed and hissed at it. It came up to where Josh and I stood and tried to bite the lower folds of my dress. We both turned away and ignored it. The ghost dog had been haunting Josh ever since we dug up its twisted mistress, who had chosen to be buried with her dog.

"You look beautiful. I got something to go with it. Now, this is just to borrow for the night. So don't lose it," he added before opening a felt box.

I felt just like Julia Roberts as I stared at the overwhelming display of silver, diamonds, and emeralds lying on the cushion.

I smiled reflexively. "It's gorgeous! Josh, where did you get it?"

"I know a guy."

I smiled again, the movement feeling unnatural, and turned around so he could help me into the ornate necklace. Josh—or a sick display of diamonds—was the only person who could make me smile.

"Now let's get your hair and makeup done before your date arrives."

I tensed at the thought. I couldn't help it. Nik had insisted on escorting me to my Joining. He claimed he had the right, considering how much work he put into keeping me alive. Never mind that he'd wanted to kill me himself when I was first turned, or the fact that Josh had asked me first.

I'd a long list of enemies at the time, and Nikolai considered me a threat to the seethe's safety. He wasn't wrong, but Mikhail had chosen to protect me, mostly just to piss off Richard, the Lacey seethe's primus. Evidently, when you're a couple hundred years old, that's enough motivation to risk countless lives. I didn't get it.

"It'll be okay," Josh said as he pushed me toward the bathroom.

My curling iron was already plugged in and hot. I sat on the toilet lid while he curled my hair. The ghost dog ran into the bathroom, lost control on the linoleum, and skidded through the edge of my tub. I couldn't tell if it had any control when it interacted with the world around it or not, but occasionally it couldn't go through a wall or chair leg. Today, evidently, it was the floor that it connected with.

"Where'd you learn to curl a girl's hair?" I asked, immensely grateful that he could.

"I studied a few years of college theater. I know my way around a bobby-pin."

I laughed. It felt good. I hadn't spent much of the autumn laughing. In fact, this might have been the first time. It wasn't that I was depressed. Rather, I couldn't remember what was funny and what wasn't.

Josh wanted me to allow Jordan and Chloe to visit—my only two friends from my human days. The problem was, I knew if I saw them I wouldn't be able to carry on a normal conversation, not to mention I would probably kill them. Josh had made the annoyingly accurate point that if I didn't start getting out, I'd never recover the rest of my memories, or gain any control over my blood lust.

Even so, there was another problem, and one I refused to mention to Josh. To see Jordan and Chloe, I would have to see Nik. They were now both Nikolai's sheep: Jordan because he'd stumbled upon us after I'd been horribly wounded, and Nik had to control him; Chloe because Jordan wanted her to be in on the secret. They now spent half their time with Nikolai in his mansion.

It would take a lot more than my love for Jordan and Chloe to get me into Nik's mansion again. I absolutely loathed Nik. It wasn't just his wanting to kill me when I first came to the seethe. In fact, I was mostly over that. After all, he had saved my life many times since that initial introduction.

It was something else entirely.

I knew that he had, at one time during his long life, sacrificed one of my ancestors in an attempt to raise Sedgrave, the maniacal though charismatic, warlock who could create daywalkers. And that was just a parlor trick; Sedgrave's real skill was manipulating politics—a much more subtle and terrifying gift.

Still, Nik had tried to bring him back to life and had never mentioned it to any of us when we were actively trying to prevent that from happening. I hadn't told anyone that I had seen him in one of my freaky ritual visions. In fact, no one even knew I had been transported back through all the other attempts at raising Sedgrave.

I couldn't figure out how to bring the subject up. In lieu of coming up with a plan, I had chosen to avoid him—until tonight. I couldn't get out of it. The party was for me, and I couldn't tell him he couldn't escort me. He'd saved my life after all; he'd earned the right. Besides, if I refused him, he'd want to know why, and I wasn't ready for that conversation.

"You doing okay?" Josh asked as he finished tucking the delicate curls of red hair into a beautiful design.

"I guess. Don't really want to do this."

"I know. But you need to. You need to start going out, being around people."

"People?" I asked.

"You know what I mean."

"Josh... I can't even remember what my mother looked like... or if I liked chocolate chip cookies when I was human. I'm not sure I even know who I am anymore... and you want me to go out and... mingle?"

Josh grabbed my knee and spun me around on the toilet lid until I faced him.

"Then spend time with those who do know you," he urged. "We'll remind you."

"Who, other than you, knows me in the seethe?"

"Nik."

I waved my hand, dismissing the idea. Josh took me by the shoulders and gave me a gentle shake.

"What is this thing with you and Nik?"

"It's nothing," I answered quietly.

"That's a load of bullshit. Whatever it is, you need to talk to him. Get it out in the open. He can't figure out why you've avoided him for the past two months."

I stood up, pushing Josh out of the bathroom so that I could put my own makeup on. I wasn't sure why I needed makeup when I would be adding a mask, but Josh seemed to think it was necessary. I was halfway through the process when Josh opened my front door.

"Fine, be stubborn. I'm out. Nik will be here soon. See ya there."

Chapter Two

I finished the makeup and carefully put the mask on. It was emerald green with silver detailing and black and silver feathers that curled up over my head, almost like a crown. Josh had designed my hair style to let the feathers disappear into the curls. It was amazing; much better than anything I could have managed.

I had just applied the last bobby pin when I heard the exterior door open and recognizable steps resounded up the narrow stairs.

I gulped, forcing the lump down my throat. My stomach gave a little uncomfortable jump at the thought of seeing him again. I quickly ran through a few options for greetings. They all seemed flat and artificial.

I moved out of the bathroom and settled on "Come in" before he could knock. Nik entered, wearing a very chic and modern-looking tuxedo. He stopped in his tracks to stare. I started wondering if something was terribly wrong—like a blood stain on my new gown.

"Wow," he sighed. "You look amazing."

"Err... thanks." It didn't feel like an adequate response to his compliment, but my muddled brain couldn't think of anything else to say.

I grabbed the black, elbow length gloves from the foot of my bed and followed him out the door. I slipped them on while heading for the bottom of the steps. When we reached the L-shaped courtyard of my apartment complex, he took my hand and placed it in the crook of his elbow. It felt old fashioned and uncomfortably intimate.

"I've missed you," Nik said out of nowhere.

He kept his voice soft; no doubt Josh had warned him how easily I startled. I nearly forgot to keep walking, I was so shocked. Though I realized he no longer hated me, I had no idea his feelings had transformed enough to actually miss me.

"How have you been doing these last two months?" he asked when I didn't respond.

I knew perfectly well that Josh had been reporting to Nik and Mikhail about my recovery.

"Fine," I stated flatly. I knew I wasn't doing a very good job of hiding my antagonism, but I couldn't find the energy to care. I couldn't seem to regain my old vampire vitality no matter how much blood I drank, and despite my recent snack, I felt drained.

"I wish you'd come out to the mansion. I know Jordan and Chloe want to see you."

"Yeah... I should do that," I agreed, trying to keep this from becoming a fight while not committing to anything.

"How 'bout tomorrow night?"

"Maybe. I'll have to see. I just finished another book, and I'm sure my publisher is gonna want to talk about it... a lot."

"Of course. Josh told me you were writing again. Using our experience for a plot?"

My stomach did another little acrobatic flip. Was he not okay with me using our story?

"Yeah. I hope that's okay. Initially, it was just to help me regain my memories. Josh helped a lot with the blank parts. But it turned out really good... and I think it could be a big turning point for me... as a writer. But only if you're okay with it," I added in an effort to get myself to stop babbling.

"Of course. It's fine. How's that going, by the way? The memory issue," Nik asked as he opened the door to his very sleek Martin Vanquish.

I tried not to remember the first time I'd gotten into his fancy car. He typically saved it for special occasions, though he'd been driving it when he was first assigned to keep me alive. Thankfully, it hadn't been destroyed like his Land Rover. This one, I was told, cost a lot more.

"It's fine," I responded as he slid into his own seat.

He started the car and gently pressed down on the gas. His usual style of driving was "the faster the better," but evidently he was not in a hurry. For once I wished he'd speed up. I glanced over in his direction. He looked uncomfortable and frustrated; I had no doubt my short answers were annoying him.

"Josh says there are a lot of things you still can't remember."

I began to grind my teeth together but stopped when I realized he would be able to hear it. Was there anything Josh hadn't told him?

I shrugged. "I'll get them back, eventually."

"And if you don't?"

"Life'll go on. Not a lot I can do about it."

He nodded slowly, taking in what I had said. I knew it sounded like I was depressed, but really I was just pragmatic. If I couldn't regain those memories there wasn't a darn thing I, or anyone else, could do about it. So why fret? I had bigger issues, like my self-control, to consider.

Josh and I had been working on it. He would wait until I was thirsty and drink a blood bag in front of me. These tests hadn't always ended well. Josh had endured a few bruises and even more curse words from me, but I was doing a little better.

I glanced out the window; I focused on the tiny beads of moisture that appeared and condensed into a stream that flowed to the back of the car. Like any other December night, it was raining, though I thought I saw a few crunchy drops. Maybe it would snow tonight.

The silence dragged on, but I didn't mind. It was better than talking with Nik. When we talked, we tended to fight. I heard Nik clear his throat, but I refused to look at him. I didn't have the energy to fight, even with Nik. I didn't want to talk, and really hoped he would take the hint.

As if on cue, Nik asked: "So, what are you going to call the book?"

"Not sure. Josh wants me to call it 'Sucked In', but I'm not sold on it."

I felt, more than saw, Nik nod as we pulled to a stop next to the restaurant. The sign reading "The Viewer's Lounge" glowed above the glass doors. It was a rather posh watering hole that I had never been able to afford. In fact, I still couldn't. It was the front for the seethe and had clearly been closed down for the occasion. The doors were closed, with their glass panels covered in white silk so that we couldn't see inside. The short walk from the street to the door was covered in red carpet and protected from the Western Washington elements by a white canvas tent. Winding up the poles of the tent were many tiny Christmas lights swathed in delicate tulle, making the light even softer.

Nik stopped at the entrance, being sure to come at it so that my door was at the curb. Two men with matching red vests jumped forward from a nondescript black tent hidden in the shadows. One raced to my door and helped me out, being sure to keep my dress from touching any puddles. I held my breath, knowing by his heartbeat that he was human. The other young man opened an umbrella and escorted Nik to the protective covering.

Nikolai smiled down at me as he slipped my gloved hand into his arm again and whispered in my ear, "You ready?"

"Why are there humans here?" I asked with what little breath I had left in my lungs.

"I'm right here. I won't let you do anything naughty."

I could hear a smile in his voice, even though I was still staring at the men standing by the front doors in cheap, off-the-rack tuxes. They were doing a good job of ignoring our private conversation, even though it clearly concerned them. I swallowed, trying to force the first trickle of desire from rearing its ugly head.

Nik nodded to them and one of them pressed a button on his earpiece. "She's here," he said in a business voice.

From inside the main room, I heard the music stop and the voices go silent. I swallowed again, this time out of nervousness. I hadn't realized exactly how central I was to this whole thing. Suddenly I felt like a debutante, and I wasn't enjoying it. The two men waited for a short pause before swinging the large doors open.

If I hadn't already been holding my breath, it would have caught in my chest. The scene before me was beyond anything I'd ever seen. Gorgeous, decadent—but in a really morbid sort of way.

