But it wasn’t enough to keep him from thinking about what he’d seen, or to stop his stomach from rumbling.

Moving as quickly as he could, Vlad hurried toward the nearest exit, which opened up to a back alley. The music blared into the night until the door swung shut, muffling the trance-inducing beats. Vlad leaned against the building’s outer brick wall, resting his head back. His fangs were fully elongated and, try as he might to will them under control, they wouldn’t shrink. The gums beneath them pulsed with hunger.

In hindsight, he should have known better than to come to a club full of humans without bringing a backpack full of blood-not that he thought it would have been enough to prevent this. His bloodthirst had grown to obnoxious levels, and lately, just the scent of blood and adrenaline coursing through a group of humans’ veins was enough to bring his fangs out and set his stomach rumbling. He was losing control, and he had to find a way to rein himself in. And fast.

The side door swung open, and out stepped Snow. Vlad eyed her for a moment, her porcelain skin, that perfect blue vein that ran up one side of her neck. It moved slightly, pulsing with life-oddly, in sync with Vlad’s gums. Vlad tore his eyes away and slid his thumbs in his front pockets, making certain his lips were covering his fangs at all times. “It’s cold out here. You should go back inside.”

Snow cast a timid glance back at the door, her eyes shimmering, the black eyeliner under her left eye smudged. “I can’t. My dad’s in there.”

And that’s when Vlad noticed the red mark on her left cheek… about the size of a hand. “Did… Snow… did someone hit you?”

Tears poured from her dark eyes and she nodded, drawing her arms around her small frame. “My dad. He’s drunk again. He’s always doing this.”

The door swung open again, and a burly man with a swagger in his step stumbled into the alley. His words were slurred. “You better get home like I told you. Hanging around these freaks-didn’t I raise you better?”

Vlad stepped in front of Snow, ready to defend her. She was, after all, such a tiny girl, and her father a hulking mass of muscle and flab. “I’ll make sure she gets home okay, sir.”

The man shoved Vlad aside and, closing the gap between him and his daughter, started to unbuckle his belt. “ This time I’ll knock it right out of you. Teach you a lesson you won’t forget.”

Snow backed up against the wall and squeezed her eyes shut, as if she knew she could no longer run from his abuse. Her cheeks, coated with tears, glistened in the streetlight.

Vlad didn’t think. He didn’t have time to think about what was right and what was wrong, about who might see and who might not. He grabbed the man and pulled him back, then shoved him as hard as he was able.

Snow’s father hit the ground several yards away. He groaned in pain, stood, and ran off. To where, Vlad didn’t know. But at least he was gone.

And Vlad was left with the understanding that shoving Tom that hard last year hadn’t been a fluke. Apparently, another skill Vikas and Otis had yet to mention was vampiric strength. He flexed his fingers and turned back to Snow, who looked beautiful despite her tears. “Hey. He’s gone now. You can open your eyes.”

Snow looked down the alley, then blinked at Vlad, confused. “Where did he go?”

Vlad shrugged. “Let’s just say I convinced him to go home and sleep it off.”

She met his eyes, and understanding filled them. Then she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him, nice and tight and close. Her skin smelled like roses and Vlad drank in her scent, so sweet. He couldn’t resist placing a small kiss on her pretty cheek, still moist from tears. And then another, on the smooth, pale skin of her jawline. And one more, just one, as he inhaled her sweet, irresistible scent, on her neck. He could taste the salt of her tears as he placed each kiss, and when he kissed her neck, they flowed into his mouth and over his tongue. They weren’t salty anymore, but sweet, like her scent, like her. And she tasted… so… good.

Vlad’s jaw tightened, bracing her neck against his jaw even tighter. He knew he was drinking from her, swallowing mouthfuls of blood, but he couldn’t stop, no matter how he tried. He swallowed and swallowed, feeling terrible that he was feeding from her, but not caring that he couldn’t seem to stop. He couldn’t recall when he’d started. The kiss on her neck, he surmised. But there was no stopping, no walking away now. There was just her blood and his hunger. Nothing more. Nothing else seemed to matter at the moment.

Vlad slipped his arms around her, cradling her body as she trembled, then weakened into his embrace. Her heartbeat was fluttering against his chest, each beat sending a splash of crimson onto his tongue. And he swallowed, drinking it down, so much better than anything he’d ever tasted before. He wanted more, so he took it, ignoring the fact that her heart was rattling at a dangerous rate, that he was probably killing her, that she was a human and he’d vowed not to do exactly what he was doing right now, never, never, never. But he was doing it. He had to. It was so sweet and tasty and filled his muscles with an energy he’d never felt before. And she tasted… so… good.

And finally, his belly was full, but Vlad kept drinking, just to taste her, just to have her blood coursing through him just a little bit longer. The idea that she was dying sent an excited chill through him… and that’s when Vlad’s stomach clenched. He shoved the girl away from him, not caring that she was going to fall onto the hard pavement, only that she’d be away from him, and safe… safer than she was in his arms. His fingers were trembling, a twisted blend of fear, excitement, and insatiable need. His face felt warm and flushed. His feet refused to remain still, so Vlad paced the alley, his dark eyes locked on the nearly unconscious girl lying next to the Dumpster.

He’d almost killed her.

He’d almost taken her life, all because he couldn’t control his hunger.

And what had set him off? The taste of her tears? Vlad retched at the thought.

It had been too easy. He’d gotten too close. And it could never, ever happen again.

The girl stirred, as if waking from a dream. She sat up, bruised from her fall and weak from Vlad’s feast, but the glazed expression in her eyes said that she likely didn’t recall exactly what had happened. She rubbed her neck and stretched, looking around the alley in confusion. When her eyes met Vlad’s, he took a step back, as if the distance would help.

It wouldn’t.

He knew that, just as sure as he knew that the only thing keeping him from crossing the alley and drinking the last of her blood until she’d slipped into death’s arms was his dire fear of enjoying such a terrible, disgusting act, his utter terror of himself.

Snow blinked at him, still dazed. “Vlad?”

Vlad swallowed hard, the taste of her crimson still on his tongue.

“What happened? Did I fall?”

Vlad paused, then nodded slowly.

Then, because there was nothing more that he could do, Vlad turned and walked away, down the alley, down the street, until he was blocks away from the club, from the girl with the salty sweet tears, from the part of him that he couldn’t bear to be near. Along the way, he tried once again to reach Otis with his thoughts, but Otis still wasn’t answering, so Vlad kept his head down and walked until he’d found a pay phone. He dialed Henry’s cell number, cursing Nelly for not letting him have one, and waited for the rings to cease. Finally, they did. “Yeah?”

Vlad licked his lips, took a deep breath, and squeezed the phone closer to his mouth. “Henry? I need your help.”

He could almost hear the irritation in Henry’s breath. For a long time Henry didn’t answer. When he did, his voice was tense. “What makes you think I’ll help you? Going to order me to?”