He quickly turned, grabbed his clothes off the floor, and left so fast my eyes couldn’t follow. I wasn’t in total shock. Now that my mind and body had started to recover from the mind-blowing sex I’d just shared with Eli, I recalled how many times he’d said how he wasn’t sure his control could last. It had barely lasted. What did shock me, though, was that he didn’t just leave my room. He left my apartment. Leaving me totally alone — as in wide-open prey for the Arcos brothers and their growing hoodie cult.

As I slipped beneath the sheets, I reached over, switched the ceiling fan on low, and closed my eyes, letting my mind wander. I was a big girl, and I’d been through a hell of a lot in twenty-five years. I’d been used in the very worst of ways; rejection and abandonment weren’t unfamiliar to me. I’d be a liar if I said it hadn’t stung to watch Eli walk out, but I understood. I guess I wasn’t like other girls in that sense. Being a crybaby just wasn’t in my repertoire. I’d learned over the years not to be greedy; take what little bits of life’s pleasures you could, while you could — you might not get another offer.

I turned onto my side and stretched, pulling one of the spare down pillows to my middle and cradling it against my bare body. Before slumber dragged me under, I replayed the past hour of my life with Eli, and I knew then that another man would never be able to satisfy me like he had. The way I’d responded to his body, his mouth, his touch . . . no one could ever live up to that. Never. I knew what I spoke of, if you know what I mean. I wasn’t sure whether I should be pissed, or grateful for the experience. Part of me knew — felt it in my gut — that something much deeper than wild, nasty sex had occurred with Eli Dupré, but it’d do no good to dwell on it now, and it may very well have been solely on my part. He’d almost transformed, almost lost control. I mean, seriously — he’d lived for nearly two hundred years. He’d had plenty of experiences, and I’m positive I wouldn’t be the last orgasm he’d ever experience. For a hot minute, it was a nice thought. But like I said — I wasn’t stupid. Rough around the edges maybe, definitely a little perverted at times, but never stupid. I was a survivor. I’d damn well survive this.

Finally, I drifted off to sleep. I knew, even though Eli had left my apartment, that he was still close by. I knew one night of hot, rampant sex certainly wasn’t a marriage proposal. Not that I wanted one. But if I knew Eli at all, I did know he wouldn’t leave me unprotected. He was out there, somewhere. I knew it. Watching. Just like he had been when I was oblivious to the fact that vampires existed.

Sometime during the early-morning hours, before dawn, I awoke with fear choking me — literally. I was coughing as though I’d been strangled; my heart slammed hard against my ribs, and adrenaline surged through my veins. I sat up and tried to catch my breath, and the bare threads of a nightmare rushed back. Sweat plastered my bangs to my face, and I pushed them behind my ears and rubbed my eyes, trying to remember.

In the dream, I couldn’t tell where I was; long shadows blocked street names and building signs, but it was desolate — almost postapocalyptic. Everything was gray, colorless — except me. My black hair with red-and-fuchsia highlights, and white skin stuck out like a sore thumb, and dressed in nothing but a short leather skirt, tall leather boots, and a vest, I ran, fast, down a cracked, broken sidewalk. What few cars sat parked along the sidewalk were as abandoned and derelict as the buildings. Where I hurried to, I didn’t know, but I knew something chased me. Maybe more than one. They slinked through the shadows overhead, on the rooftops. I glanced behind me, only for a second; when I turned back around, he was there. Young, virile, flawlessly beautiful, and very, very powerful; his very nearness caused me to burn for him. Seductively, he licked his lips, and just that fast I envisioned his mouth and tongue between my legs, erotically caressing until I fell to my knees as spasms of orgasm wracked my body. I didn’t want it — I couldn’t help but take it. It infuriated me, his seduction, and I knew then that he would haunt me always, and never cease his pursuit of me. He had power over me. He wasn’t Eli. . . .

I sat up with a start. Somehow, I’d fallen asleep again, even after remembering that most vivid of dreams. It left me feeling dirty; it left me with heavy desire. Early dawn was just beginning to break, and as I slipped from the bed, I noticed the French doors were wide-open. They were closed before. . . .

Crossing the room, I closed the doors and latched them, then jumped in the shower. As the hot water ran down my body, I felt drained; my energy had dissipated. Once I finished, I quickly dressed in board shorts and a tank top and dried my hair, and just as I walked into the living room, I pulled up short. Sprawled across the sofa watching TV was Phin Dupré, Chaz’s head resting in his lap. Both glanced up as I walked into the room, and Phin regarded me with eyes so much like Eli’s.

“I guess you’re the new babysitter, huh?” I asked, although I already knew the answer. I met Phin’s gaze as I pulled my hair up into a ponytail, then glanced at the TV. I looked at Phin and lifted a brow. “The Lost Boys?” I asked, noting the eighties cult vampire movie as it played across my flat screen.

Phin gave a cocky smile. “Freaking awesome movie,” he said. “Classic.”

I shook my head and grinned, and it struck me as funny that a vampire would dig a cult vampire movie. “Yeah, it is.” I wanted to ask where Eli was, but I didn’t. I kept it to myself and figured that whatever was going to happen would happen. Like I said before — I wasn’t the crying-over-spilled-milk type of girl.

“So yeah, I’m the new babysitter,” he said, then scrubbed Chaz between the ears and stood. I glared at my dog, whose only response to me was a little hiniesca-thumping against the sofa cushion.

“What’d you do, brainwash my dog?” I asked, scowling at Chaz.

“What? Come on, dogs love me,” Phin said, and moved toward me. He cocked his head and crossed his arms over his chest. “What’d you do to piss off Eli?” Before I could answer, realization crossed his features. “Ah — never mind.” He shook his head and mumbled something in French that sounded something like sack ray blue, rubbed his jaw, and regarded me even more closely. He shook his head again. “Damn.”

“Look,” I said, and turned directly to Eli’s brother. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but I have to have a game plan to get my brother back. If it’s changed from before, just tell me — ”

“It hasn’t,” Phin said. “Not exactly.”

I slid my flip-flops on. “What does that mean?”

“My father and Preacher agreed to your training,” he said, “at Eli’s urging. Mainly for safety purposes.”

As I let that congeal in my brain, I realized that was what I’d wanted all along, and Eli had known it. “Great. Vampires training me to kill vampires. When do we start?”

He chuckled. “Today. Tonight we’ll run the streets a little, and tomorrow night we’ll hit the Panic Room along with a few others, if you’re up to it. This time, you’re hangin’ with Luc and me.”

“Sounds good to me,” I answered, although the void Eli had left suddenly seemed larger. I stood there, contemplating, then walked to the door. “Come on, Chaz — ”

“I already walked him.”

I stopped and did not look back. “My control over my life has fizzled into nothingness,” I said. “I can’t even walk my freaking dog anymore.” I walked to the door and let myself out, Phin directly on my heels.

“Sorry,” he said as we made our way to Preacher’s.

“Not your fault,” I said, although I wanted it to be someone’s fault.

As we crossed the cobbles to Da Plat Eye, Phin leaned close. “So, Riley,” he began casually. “What’s the story on your friend Nyx?” He chuckled. “She’s pretty hot.”