Silver lining: his companions fell asleep from boredom.

Finally, when he was confident the others in the bunkhouse were sleeping, he moved to his window and climbed outside. The nights were getting cooler, fall well on its way. Sophia and the other dogs slept inside with Dan and Meg, so he didn’t have to worry about their barking waking the entire ranch.

As he’d done every night for the past week, he maneuvered through the forest toward the clearing Victoria had led him into. Lack of sleep was making him cranky, but he’d rather have the chance of seeing her again than the promise of slumber. Where was she? Why hadn’t she returned to him?

Despite the fact that she drank blood—and would drink his—and despite the fact that she could turn humans into blood-slaves, whatever those were, he wanted to see her again. Needed to see her.

Gradually he became aware of a murmur of voices—and for once they weren’t coming from inside his mind. The closer he came to the clearing, the louder they became. Excitement hit—had he finally found her?

He positioned himself behind a thick stump and listened. One speaker was male, one was female; their actual words, however, were too muffled to decipher. But he soon realized that the female wasn’t Victoria. This one’s voice was too high.

Excitement gave way to disappointment. He would have left them to their business, whoever they were and whatever they were doing, if he hadn’t known a vampire female liked to traverse the area. They could be vampire hunters, for all he knew, planning to kill her.

He didn’t know if people like that truly existed, but he wasn’t taking any chances. He slinked out of the shadows and edged closer.

One of them might have said, “Kill.” Perhaps, “Pill.” The other might have replied, “I could.” Perhaps, “I’m good.” Either way, they weren’t out there planting roses.

Just a little closer…A twig snapped under his boot. He froze. Waited, not even daring to breathe. The voices tapered to quiet.

What should he do? He couldn’t leave until they did, just in case Victoria showed up. And he couldn’t—

Someone tackled him from behind, sending him face-first into a bed of brittle leaves. The impact startled him, but he was able to roll to his back, then roll again, pinning his attacker under him. He punched the brute in the stomach.

There was a grunt of pain, a whoosh of air. Aden jumped to his feet, intending to grab his daggers, but as he peered down, he saw who had rammed him and froze. “Ozzie?”

“Stone?” Ozzie stood, spit out a mouthful of dirt. “You’re following me now? What, are you trying to get me booted from the ranch? Well, good luck with that, ’cause I won’t go quietly.” Without any other warning, he kicked Aden between the legs.

Utter pain radiated through him, hunching him over, making his skin feel like fire and his blood like ice. He wanted to vomit. Dear…God…

As he gasped and sweated and combated the nausea, rage boiled inside him. Low blow. Low freaking blow. When he was able to breathe again, Ozzie was going to be sorry.

“Let’s see how well you can tattle on me without any teeth.” Ozzie pounded his fist into Aden’s eye. Bad aim? Then his lip. Okay, not so bad.

His head spun. His rage intensified, spilled over, filled him up and gave him wings. With a growl, he launched forward and grabbed the boy around the waist, propelling them both to the ground. Crack. Ozzie’s skull connected with a large rock, stunning him.

Aden propped himself on his knees and just started swinging. Boom, one fist slammed into a cheekbone. “That’s for my first T-shirt.” Boom, his other fist connected with an eye socket. “That’s for the others.” Boom, he connected with Ozzie’s chin. Blood sprayed. He didn’t care, was lost to the rage, determined to inflict as much pain as possible. “That’s for my nuts!”

Snarling, Ozzie pulled his legs from under Aden, bending and anchoring them on Aden’s chest. A hard push had him flying backward. He hit a tree and sank to the ground. A pile of leaves softened the impact.

What’s going on? Eve suddenly demanded, groggy but loud.

Doing his best to ignore her, he hopped up and once more launched forward. He slammed his head into Ozzie’s throat. As Ozzie hunched over, gurgling, Aden kicked him in the stomach without a second’s thought. One thing he’d learned over the years was that there was no honor in fighting. You did whatever was necessary to win, even kick someone when they were down—especially when they were down—or you suffered.

He joined his hands and bashed them into Ozzie’s temple. Ozzie swung to the side, dropped to his knees. A plastic bag fell from his pocket. His head remained bowed, one hand clutching his middle, the other covering his face to protect it.

“Get up! Fight me! Isn’t that what you wanted?” This had been a long time coming, and now that they were punching it out, Dan not here to intervene, Aden couldn’t stop himself. He settled his weight on one leg, leaned forward and slammed his fist into Ozzie’s jaw. “Come on!”

Again, the impact sent him flying. Ozzie quickly righted himself and came up swinging. “Yeah, it’s what I wanted. What I’ll do.”

Aden ducked, jabbing the dreg in the stomach yet again and forcing more of that needed oxygen out of his mouth. He raised his leg to do it again.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

The female voice was followed by the click of a gun. Slowly he lowered his leg and turned halfway, not letting Ozzie out of his sights but eyeing as much of the girl as he could. She was shorter than him by at least a foot, slight and trembling. And she was aiming a pistol right at him.

He could take her, even panting and sweating as he was. No longer was he in pain, his adrenaline simply too high. Hurting a girl, though, was not a prospect he enjoyed.

Because it’s wrong, Eve said, as if reading his mind.

He won’t have to hurt her, Elijah said. This is going to be okay.

How is a chick with an obviously itchy trigger finger gonna turn out okay? Caleb shouted.

Run, Aden, Julian commanded. Just start running.

Aden stepped backward.

Stay still! Elijah growled, and he froze.

Run, Julian commanded again, and he took another step.

Stop.

“Quiet!” he shouted, covering his ears.

“You be quiet! And move another inch, and I swear to God you’ll be eating every one of these bullets. Now who the hell are you?” the girl snarled. She was cute, despite the gun, with a short cap of blond hair. Her bottom lip was cut, as if she, too, had recently been in a fight.

“It’s okay, Casey,” Ozzie said, surprisingly calm as he stood. His words were slightly slurred, his jaw already swelling. “He’s from the ranch.”

She didn’t lower the gun. “You always tear into the guys you live with?”

“Yeah, I do.” Ozzie bent down and swiped up the plastic Baggies he’d dropped. “He’s not a cop, and he’s not gonna narc. He knows I’d stab him in his sleep if he tried.”

Aden knew a dime bag when he saw one. So Ozzie and the gun-wielding Casey were here for drugs. “For someone who just lost, you sure sound confident about what you can do to me.”

Ozzie stiffened. Casey straightened her aim.

Maybe he should have kept his mouth closed. But from the corner of his eye, he’d caught a glimpse of Victoria, gliding toward them, silent as a ghost, and the words had slipped out.

Neither Ozzie nor Casey even glanced in her direction.

Aden would have known she was there even if he hadn’t spotted her. Power radiated from her, enveloping the area, charging the air so much it crackled. As she closed the distance, her skin seemed whiter than ever. So white it glowed. Her dark robe was swaying in the breeze.

Told you it would be okay, Elijah said, smug.