“They did all of that out there—and this—in an hour?” I dropped my blazer on a chair and went to warm myself near the flames.

“It was merely moving and placing furniture, Persephone. You must have somewhere to rest tonight.”

Even as he spoke, the work resumed in the theater beyond. The hammering echoed as if several dozen carpenters on meth were out there.

Menessos shut my door, and the noise was immediately silenced. I studied the three different locking mechanisms on it. Bolts at the top and bottom of the door, another at mid-level—in addition to the automatic electronic lock, of course. Very industrial. “Now, about my knowledge of the fey that could assist you . . .”

“How about we start with Johnny?” I wanted to know about the ties Menessos mentioned at the restaurant.

His voice lowered. “How about we start without Johnny?”

Though my back was turned to the fire, warmth slithered across my aura; it was an invitation duplicated in his smoldering eyes.

I drew my shields around me. “Why do you bounce back and forth between humanizing yourself to the point of making me feel sorry for you, and then play Mr. Dangerous Sex-Starved Vampire?”

Amused, he said, “I am not sex starved.”

“It’s annoying and it’ll get old, fast, if you keep it up.”

The heat abated, but was still present. “My apologies, Persephone.” Standing at the end of the granite countertop, he reached into a decorative azure blue bowl and lifted one of the crackled glass orbs. Even as he inspected it, twisting his wrist, I could feel it as if his fingers were flicking over my aura. “Do you not like having your flesh kindled?”

I recognized and resisted this, strengthening my shields even more, but my body still responded to it. “Wasn’t that made clear with the word ‘annoying’?” The breathlessness of my voice pissed me off. So did he.

“The birth of a master is a sensitive time.” After replacing the glass orb gently, he moved casually nearer and the temperature in the room rose noticeably. The heat, the caress of my aura, his voice, it all triggered a yearning for him, I craved him, needed him. And if he was attuned to my body, he damn well knew it.

I retreated.

He stopped six feet from me. “Persephone, this is what it means to be the master of a vampire.”

“No wonder vampires struggle to rise through the ranks,” I muttered.

“It is quite pleasurable, isn’t it? Erotic.”

It reminded me of working with the ley line. At first touch, the power of the ley scalded, but as the touch lingered it became euphoric. Addictive. “What perks do you get from it?” No breathlessness in my voice. Only anger.

“Because you are mortal, I hear your heart begin to pound. I watch your cheeks flush with warm, fresh blood as desire overwhelms you.”

Suddenly he was right behind me, as close as he could be without touching me. My aura snapped tight around me, shielding me while his power rubbed against that intangible defense and created a metaphysical friction that stole my breath again.

“Here, surrounded by those I master, I am stronger. Oh, Persephone . . .” There was an edge to his tone, a sharp reminder, yet he spoke my name rapturously. “I know what you are feeling, for I have felt it. I have fed upon it. And now, I nourish you with it.”

His fingers stroked my neck, and the barrier between us was no more. I smelled hot cinnamon and I melted against him. His touch molded me against him, his lips brushed my cheek. “Taste the power I give you.”

The first time Menessos kissed me—in the circle when we’d saved Theo—his kiss had been as fragile as the edge of a toasted marshmallow. Not this time. His mouth covered mine forcefully, his arms surrounded me. My rebellious body took over, encouraging him. Lips parting, I welcomed his tongue. His embrace tightened. My hips pressed into him.

He ended the kiss and whispered, “I must.” His mouth lowered onto my neck, and time slowed.

The vampire’s lips found the thudding pulse of my vein. I felt the needle tips of his teeth, pressing. My skin broke—the shafts of his fangs pushed deeper. I felt each millimeter of him entering me as definitively as sexual penetration. It hurt like losing my virginity had hurt. It was painful and yet it was perfect.

With his tongue pressed at my new openings, he sucked, tugging the skin of my neck gently into his mouth. My hips pressed harder against his groin and my body answered his demand. I bled for him and I felt . . . potent.

Mine!

He was mine. Mine to command. Mine to protect. Mine to have if I wanted. Sustained by my energy, Menessos was mine to feed as well.

I awoke to a night sky with twinkling stars in it over my head.

“Holy shit!” The sound of Johnny’s astonished voice came a second before the dull thump of the heavy door shutting.

Does everyone but me have that door’s damned combination?

Realizing I was on the bed, I sat up in a rush. I was alone. My clothes were still on. Good. Feeling my neck, I touched a bandage. The bastard bandaged me?

Scooting to the edge, I kicked the sheer curtains aside. My feet hit the floor and I stood—

Dizziness made me immediately sit again. I called out, “Back here.” The heavy curtains had been shut, separating the two spaces, and the fire burned low in the hearth.

“Lemme figure out how to lock up,” he answered. “A lot of vamps out there.”

“How many?”

A glass of orange juice sat on the bedside table. Eagerly, I downed half of it to the chunking sound of metal defenses engaging. We were supposed to take advantage of our aloneness. I gulped more, to the beat of Johnny’s approaching footfalls. C’mon, juice, kick in.

“Probably thirty vamps, fifty or sixty Beholders.”

More than there had been earlier. Or more than I had seen then, anyway. Or Johnny could smell them in unseen places like Menessos had smelled the waerewolves at the restaurant.

The thick curtain parted and light from the other room glowed behind him. It suited the sunny demeanor he was exuding. “At the main doors, I was convinced this whole place was a dump, and then I’m led to this ritzy little abode, with the hottest woman I’ve ever seen waiting for me in the bedroom.”

He entered the room and the curtain fell shut behind him, plunging us back into the dark like an eclipse. I immediately preferred this; the darkness seemed to energize me. “Wow.” He pointed at the dome. “The stars are out.”

I snorted in amusement.

“Bet that cost him.”

“Bet it didn’t affect his bank accounts a bit. How was the interview?”

“Cool! It’s this NRRRadio station. They run it out of a house in Westlake, and it’s got this professional-yet-laid-back atmosphere. Web-based setup; the site has a window with a live studio Webcam in one corner and a chat room in another. People posted questions for us. The DJ, Syrinx, was awesome. Let us kinda take over the flow of things once we were used to everything.”

As if the DJ’d had any choice.

Johnny clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “This is all very romantic, stars, cozy fireplace, and all. Very romantic, indeed, if you ask me—which you didn’t.” Stopping before me, he reached out to my chin and lifted. “All this place needs is a little music. Guess we’ll have to make our own.” He bent and kissed me softly. My lips felt bruised, but I didn’t want him to think I was holding back. When it ended, Johnny straightened and licked his lips. “Mmmm, orange ju—”

By the light of fake stars, he detected the bandage.

Instantly the sunny demeanor frosted over. He didn’t need an explanation. Tension flared, then doubled, tripled. He moved away. “Don’t.” I caught his arm, felt the bones resetting under my grip. Anger was giving him power to change. I held on. “Don’t.”