“How did you become a hybrid?” I don’t have any other way to get this part of the story. She has to tell me what happened.

Her shoulders shudder, and I know she’s crying. I steel myself against her tears until I know the truth.

“What happened?” I repeat in a sterner tone.

A little moment of silence, another shudder, and she answers, her voice muffled by the pillow. “He forced me.”

Red seeps into my vision. It’s one thing to bite a gorgeous woman such as her in the throes of passion. It’s quite another to force her to drink your blood.

“Did you know what would happen?” I ask.

Her head pops up at once. Her sapphire blue eyes are rimmed with red, and it almost crushes me.

“No!” Her voice is a little cry. “I fought. I gagged and vomited.” Her chin drops again, and the shame is back. “It wasn’t enough. Apparently his blood still made it inside me. It changed me.”

She’s so beautiful. I pull back and study her slim, ivory frame in my bed. Her face is tucked in the pillow, and her long hair forms a glossy curtain around her shoulders. Her sweetness is undeniable, and the fact that she was forced, raped by a vampire, makes me want to forget I only hunt for justice. I want to kill them all.

Instead, I put my hand on her shoulder, hoping to ease her pain. “It’s not your fault.”

Her shoulders droop, but I know she’s hearing my words. I can’t take any more of this. I want her in my arms. This beautiful, broken woman has somehow worked her way into my heart, and I only want to help her.

Standing, I lift her and carry her to the tile-lined shower in my suite. We’re both still damp from the downpour tonight, and it’s cold. I turn on the blast until the water warms, and step inside with her, holding her against my chest under the spray.

The only encouragement I have is her small hands holding my back so tightly. She’s holding my shoulder blades as if they’re the only things keeping her together. Her forehead is at my collarbone, and I stroke the back of her long dark hair as the warm water beats down on us.

“It doesn’t matter,” I murmur, soothing her. “I will save you.”

Her whole body relaxes in my arms, and I feel my own muscles start to relax. This night was terrifying and stressful and shocking and ultimately healing. Melissa and I are here together. We have no secrets anymore.

I reach forward to shut off the water. She doesn’t speak. She only watches as I step out of the glass-encased shower and grab a towel. Holding out my hand, she pauses a half-second before putting hers in mine. It’s all I need to know.

Buffing her body with the plush towel, I drop it on the floor and carry her to my large bed. We’ve made love, but now we need to rest. In the morning we’ll sort out what all of this means.

For now, I’ll hold her beautiful body next to mine to sleep.

Melissa

My eyes open in the darkness, and I realize I’ve been asleep. I’m not sure how it happened, but it fills me with the most amazing flicker of hope. I slept during the night!

Derek is beside me breathing heavily. I watch him sleep, studying his features. The beautiful bow of his lips, the dark scruff on his cheeks, his powerful jaw and imposing brow. I remember his tenderness in the shower, his pledge to save me. He said the most amazing things to me.

All of it combines into the perfect image of the man I would love. My hero. His gorgeous chest rises and falls, and I wonder how we’ll make it out of this alive. He knows what I am. I know what he is. By all accounts, we should be enemies. Only, I don’t want to be his enemy. I want to be his everything.

He stirs and those steel blue eyes blink open at me. I’m not sure he’s awake, still I can’t resist speaking the truth to him in this twilight hour.

“If everything were different, I’d tell you I love you right now,” I whisper.

For a moment, he doesn’t respond. I’m ready to accept he’s still asleep until he moves, pulling me against him. His face is at my breast, and I feel him kiss my skin gently once, twice. Then his arms relax, and I know for sure he’s asleep again. I know I should slip out. I should leave and go back to my room before the sun rises, but I can’t. I’ll stay with him tonight, and tomorrow I’ll try to figure out how I’ll ever leave him again.

When I open my eyes, I’m surprised to find I’m alone in his suite. The curtains are pulled shut, so I have no idea of the time. I sit up and reach for the lamp when I see a scrap of paper on the pillow next to me.

Early meeting with my partner. Sleep as long as you want. I’ll be back by noon. Wait for me or tell me where I can find you. –D.

Tracing my finger over the controlled block letters of his handwriting, I’m amazed again that I’ve been asleep. I slept through him waking, getting ready, and leaving this morning. It’s incredible. It’s like the clock has been reset somehow on my evolution, and I’m back at the early stages when I was just learning the extent of what had happened to me.

How? Again I’m overcome by how little I know about this curse. I’ve been thrust into this half-life and left to figure out what comes next. In the beginning, I tried following the rules of the old horror movies and books, but only some of them are true. Most are just plot devices.

For example, I don’t burn up in the sunlight. At the same time, the sun does hurt my eyes, and I’d rather stay indoors during the midday hours. Every day, my biorhythms shift more and more to nocturnal. I have no control over this part of my progression. I’m awake well past midnight, until the first hints of sunrise, when my eyes grow heavy, and as much as I struggle, it’s impossible to keep them open.

None of the religious symbols bother me. In fact, they comfort me, and I find myself longing to go to St. Louis Cathedral and hide in the ancient edifice until this nightmare has ended. I imagine myself waking up and realizing it’s all been a terrible dream. I pretend I shake the horror away, and return to my life as an independent marketing consultant.

Oh, god. My former life feels so far away from me. It’s a distant memory I’ll never get back. Pushing the blankets aside, I walk to the window and open the curtains.

Just like my ability to sleep at night, my eyes aren’t as affected by the sunlight this morning. Clouds obstruct most of it, but the few rays that peek through on this overcast day don’t send me scrambling for my sunglasses like an alcoholic coming off a bender.

In that moment a new, even more thrilling realization washes over me. I haven’t heard my maker’s voice in two days! Somehow I’ve managed to escape him. He’s not controlling me. His presence isn’t in my head ordering me, fighting with me.

I’m not free of him, clearly I’m not. My teeth still grow, and I still crave Derek’s blood—even with the healthy dose I took from him last night, I want more. Yet somehow his grip has slipped. I’ve somehow managed to evade his reach. For how long, I have no idea, but I intend to make the most of it and do everything I can to prolong it.

Dashing around the room, I search for my dress. It’s lying in a damp puddle in the tub. It’s cold and clammy as I slip it over my body, and looking down, I realize I need more than this before I can go out into the street.

Pulling open a small dresser drawer, I take out Derek’s black T-shirt. It’s too large on me, but it has the lovely advantage of smelling like him. I bury my nose in the neck and take a deep inhale, my insides shimmering with joy. He has something to do with these changes, I’m sure of it. Only, I don’t know how.

Before I leave, I scribble out a quick reply to his note. Lunch with Elaine and a friend, but I can’t wait to see you again. –M.

Stopping before I leave, I hastily add my cell number, even though I left my small clutch at Lafitte’s last night when I bolted. I hope Elaine rescued it for me. I can’t wait to meet with her and Mariska today. For the first time in almost a month, I have hope.