No amount of screaming, struggling, or pounding fists would save me. I fought my Taegan look-alike the way I'd fought the ocean current just that morning, with every muscle, every breath, every fiber. It didn't matter. For the first time in my life, my efforts were useless.

He stopped walking just outside the gates of the Yoshiki mansion. Not a single person had helped me. Not a single one.

Bile clawed up my throat, gagging me.

He set me on my feet, hand gripping the back of my neck. I stumbled, but his arms kept me upright. He buried his face in my neck, inhaling, groaning. "Fuck," he hissed, dragging his nose along my skin, stopping over my erratic pulse. I froze. My body betrayed me, shuddering. The gesture was erotic. It sent heat zinging straight between my legs.

A car door opened. He tossed me into the back of a black sedan, sliding in beside me, slamming the door. Gasping for air, I scrambled across the seat, reaching for the other door, trying to claw free. A hand clamped around my wrist, holding it in place.

"I don't think so," he growled. "Stop making this difficult."

"Let me go," I said, voice barely audible. Tears blurred my eyes, from shock, more than anything. I blinked to clear them. "You can't do this."

"I can do whatever I wish. Now, sit still. This will all go smoother if you do."

"Kidnapping is illegal," I managed. When I pictured the possibility of my own kidnapping, it went along the lines of getting thrown into the back of a van with men in masks and guns. Not some elf-guy in a luxury car, wearing—my eyes darted over him—designer jeans and a charcoal-colored T-shirt.

A huff left his nostrils. He reached over and grabbed the seat belt, buckling me in. The grip on my wrist remained firmly in place. "Vittorio, drive!" he barked. The car lurched into motion, locks clicking. My opportunity to escape narrowed, then turned nonexistent as the Yoshiki mansion disappeared behind us.

I started hyperventilating,. reaching for coherent thoughts. . "What do you want with me?"

He didn't answer.

For years, I'd been at the mercy of others, helpless. I never thought I'd find myself here again. But...he'd saved me from Daniel, hadn't he?

Daniel. My stomach turned rock hard. A lump formed in my throat, and I swallowed it down. It felt a lot like shame.

"My friend will call the cops when she sees that I'm missing. There will be people looking for me. You can't do this—"

"Stop your incessant chatter," he hissed. "You're making my ears bleed."

I sucked in a sharp breath before my lungs constricted. I...I had every right to demand an explanation. Did he expect me to simply sit here and comply?

"Fucking humans," he muttered under his breath.

I closed my eyes and forced myself to calm down, to take stock of the situation.

I'd been afraid before. So, so many times. But I'd also learned that fear could make a person careless. It was better to be angry–even if I had to fake it.

I turned to glare at him. And...my glare melted right off. He was...he was....

I'd been too busy freaking out to really look at him. But he was like nothing I'd ever seen. I couldn't stop staring. It wasn't real—he couldn't be real.

I licked my lips. Licked them again.

His features were striking, timeless. He was older than me by a decade, perhaps? Yet, his skin was absolutely flawless. His eyes, which I'd sworn were black earlier, were silver and empty. Like there was nothing there, no emotion, no warmth, no feeling.

An unsettling shiver raced down my spine.

I finally pried my gaze from his face, taking in the rest of him. His hulking form swallowed up the back seat. His hair, so silky and white, like moonlight on snow. I wanted to touch it and see if it was real. His broad shoulders, muscles tight, arms filling out the sleeves of his T-shirt. His rigid chest—

I frowned. His chest didn't move. I began counting, waiting for him to take a breath. "Why aren't you breathing?"

Those empty eyes turned towards me.

"You...you aren't...breathing," I repeated, untying my tongue. I tried backing closer to the door. My shoulder was already pressed against it.

"I'm a vampire," he said, his head tilting like this amused him. "I don't need to breathe."

A deranged laugh fell from my lips; I forgot to be angry. "A vampire? Is that what they're calling monsters these days?"

A low, grating chuckle filled the back seat. Despite everything I felt, It sent chills over my skin. Not the kind I expected, but the traitorous kind. My belly flopped.

"You don't believe me?" he pointed out. "No. Of course you don't. You humans are all so dense, so narrow-minded. I wouldn't expect anything else from a spoiled party brat like you." I reared back, stung. That was the second time he'd made false assumptions about me. "Shall I show you?"

He dropped my wrist.

The change was instant. I gasped as black returned to his eyes, then spread, dark veins racing down his face. His canines elongated to needle sharp, narrow points. His features grew more distinct. His skin...changed.

I blinked, unable to rip my gaze from him. His skin darkened—no, not darkened. The veins beneath his skin darkened. They blackened. He turned to something that resembled marble. Beautiful and grotesque and frightening.

The anger I'd tried to muster wavered back to fear.

I braced a hand against the leather seat as the car began spinning—no, not the car, my head. My head was spinning. Air came faster and faster.

Suddenly, the nightmare before me returned to a thing of shameful fantasy. Like it had never happened. Like I'd imagined it. Except, I caught a hint of smug satisfaction in his expression. And then, even that disappeared, replaced with the emptiness I was coming to know.

No. This—no. I was used to numbers, equations. I was accustomed to solving puzzles, the beauty of balance. Mathematical problems had solutions, usually neat and elegant. Everything fit certain rules. Associative, communicative, distributive rules that dictated order, dictated procedure.

Rules.

There was no rule in any universe that explained this. "That...that's impossible."

"I assure you, Miss...?"

"Shaw," I whispered, tongue going dry. "Lily Shaw."

Why did I give him my full name?!

"Miss Shaw," he repeated, snatching up one of my wrists again, as if he couldn't help himself. I tried to pull it back but his grip was unyielding. "This is very possible. What is more? You should be dead. Yet, somehow, you're not. I intend to take full advantage of the fact."

My lips curled in disgust. "You're a fucking monster," I hissed.

He didn't answer. His face remained forward, watching the scenery through the windshield. The car hugged the city, heading north.

"Where are you taking me?" I demanded.

"To my home."

"Your home?"

A long, suffering sigh left his mouth.

I licked my lips. "I don't want to go to your home. I want you to stop this car and release me. I'm a human being and I don't deserve—"

He growled, lunging for me. A blur too quick to follow. Nobody moved that fast. Not unless—he really was what he claimed. A vampire.

I whimpered as his fingers took hold of my chin, tilting my face up towards his. I smelled a faint hint of cinnamon on his breath as he said, "This is not a discussion. You are going to my home, and I am not stopping this car. I am not letting you go. Nothing will change that. Stop your pointless complaining before I lose my godsdamed mind. Understand?" He stared at me, his eyes flicked towards my mouth, the motion so brief I wondered if I imagined it. ".

I clenched my teeth but didn't bother giving him an answer.

"There now. Wasn't so hard, hmm?"

I scoffed. The sound died in my throat as he brought his face closer to mine.

Was he going to–?!

He dipped to the side and pressed his face against my neck, inhaling. A shiver raced over my skin, sending heat to pool in my belly. I shuddered, squeezing my thighs together. What was happening to me?

Mortified heat seared my skin at the betrayal of my own body.

"How does something so useless smell so fucking good."

I went from hot to cold in an instant.

Useless? Useless?!

It shouldn't have bothered me. I'd heard it before, more than once. "Get your hands off me," I snarled, finally working up the courage to speak, to defend myself.

He didn't. Another deep inhale, then a low rumbling laugh against my neck. "Why should I? When you seem to like it so much?"

No! I didn't—I couldn't. "Stop touching me," I said, disgusted with myself, with him.

"I already told you, Miss Shaw. I do what I want." But his hand fell away, as he slid back into his seat. Slowly this time. My body trembled with relief, muscles quivering, even if I registered a dull ache that his retreat created.

He was a monster. A fucking monster. My body needed to remember that. "Consider this our first lesson together, Miss Shaw. This is my world. You are only in it because I wish it so."

I stared at him, then turned to face forward, doing my best to ignore him for the remainder of the drive.

Twenty minutes later, we pulled through a set of ornamental iron gates, up a long drive to a monstrosity that put the Yoshiki mansion to shame. One was loud and obnoxious, the other, classic and tasteful.

I scoffed. A vampire in a gothic mansion. How unsurprising.

The circle drive framed a large fountain. In the dark, the windows glowed bright yellow. I could barely make out the vast grounds stretching out on all sides, and the woods far beyond that.

The car stopped before a grand entry, a set of wide steps, flanked with gargoyles, leading to arched doors. I glanced towards the driver, Vittorio, noticing him for the first time. He sat motionless, staring straight ahead.

Another vampire.

"Out, Miss Shaw. And don't try running." My eyes darted towards the presence at my side, my hand frozen on the door handle. The thought had crossed my mind.

"And what if I do?" I hedged.

He exhaled through his nose—not to breathe. "All those fancy myths about vampires are true. Most of them vastly underestimate our abilities. Mine, especially. Your efforts would be futile."

"Am I supposed to be impressed?" I sneered.

"Miss Shaw," he snapped. "I want nothing more than to sink my teeth into your delicate little neck and taste your blood. Don't give me a reason to."

I swallowed, the realization sinking in. "You want to bite me?"

My thoughts flashed back over everything. Pieces fell into place, like a mathematical equation balancing on both sides. I shouldn't have been surprised. He'd claimed to be a vampire—had proven that he was. Something about my blood affected him, enough that he'd stolen me from a party, despite believing I was a useless waste-of-space party brat. He could have taken anyone, but he'd taken me.

Something pathetic flared awake deep inside me–something that liked the idea of being chosen, even if the circumstances were abhorrent.

"Quit smirking and get the fuck out of the car."

I climbed out, shoulders back, and adjusted my dress.

"This way," he said, motioning me forward.

I glanced behind me, towards the iron gates. How far was the city? How long would it take me to reach it on foot?

"Today, Miss Shaw."

Asshole. I clenched my teeth, stepping forward, and pretended to ignore the staggering gothic architecture in front of me. It took my breath away, nonetheless. The dark gray bricks were water stained in multiple places. I counted at least four levels. It was a miniature castle, complete with gargoyles.

For a moment, I forgot about escape. "You live here?" I managed to make it sound condescending to hide my awe.

"Obviously."

"Let me guess, it's all for show? A whole mansion for a measly coffin located in the basement?"

He stopped halfway up the stairs—

There was a blur of motion. My head was tilted backwards,. I gasped, all too aware of his long fingers in my hair, grasping the strands just enough to send a wave of heat dumping into my body. It was quickly replaced by anger boiling down my throat, turning my mouth sour,. "You think you're funny?" he said, tsking. "It's a dangerous game you're playing, Miss Shaw. Try me again. Find out just how much your blood is worth."

"Priceless, apparently," I snapped. "Or you wouldn't have dragged me from a party like a desperate junkie."

"A desperate–?" His voice turned colder, harder, anger flashing across his features. "Be not mistaken, Miss Shaw. It would be so easy to drain you—right here. It would take me less than thirty seconds to siphon your life from your frail human body, and certainly put an end to my troubles." The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.

"Be grateful that it is I who found you. My enemies would simply auction you off to the highest bidder. They would find all sorts of uses for your blood.Valuable uses, but certainly not priceless."

I sucked in a shocked breath. But he was right. I'd never been priceless. I'd never been worth much of anything, to anyone. Not ever.

He inhaled, nostrils flaring. Like he could smell me—smell my emotions and what I was feeling. "Much better." His fingers slipped from my hair. "Now, come."

I swallowed, wetting my lips, then forced my feet to comply. As long as I kept my face forward, he wouldn't see my eyes water. Wouldn't see the angry tears threatening to fall. Each breath was hollow, painful. But I couldn't let him see how much his words burrowed beneath my skin. How much they hurt.

Snatching a few strips of paper, I plastered them over my heart, hardening myself. I'd done it so many times over the years, the entire organ ought to have been a hard shell of paper mache. I shouldn't have let his words affect me. Perhaps next time, I wouldn't make the same mistake.

We climbed the remaining steps. I didn't miss the hand hovering at the base of my spine. A reminder to keep me from running. Vittorio appeared at the doors, one moment nothing, the next, reaching to open them.

I blinked to clear my eyes.

We swept into a dimly lit entry hall, something out of a vampire movie. "Sire! I just got a call from—" A female voice broke off. A woman materialized before us. She wore an elegant sequin gown reminiscent of the twenties, her dark hair cut in a bob. "Sire?"

"Find Marco. My study. Now," came the answering snarl. So, it wasn't just me. He was a genuine asshole to everyone. That didn't exactly make me feel any better.

The hand at my back pressed more firmly, but I didn't move. The female didn't move, either. Her surprised gaze was fixed on me. Her nostrils flared, eyes dilating. She began to change, just like what I'd seen in the car.

"Zola! Now." The sharp order made me flinch. She, however, appeared unaffected. "And keep your fangs in your mouth. Anyone that touches her, dies. Understand?"

I blinked, brows ceasing.

Zola took control of her features. "An amplifier, sire? You found an amplifier?" Her voice was breathy, riddled with disbelief.

My thoughts froze.

"If I must ask again—"

"Right away, Sire." She disappeared.

The pressure at the base of my spine increased, pushing me forward. I had only a few moments to gawk at our surroundings—checkered floor, giant stone staircase, gaslit sconces, elegant chandelier—before I was ushered upstairs.

I was vaguely aware of Vittorio's footfalls on the marble behind us. We strode down a dimly lit hallway. I absorbed everything and nothing all at once.

We stopped before a door. A pale hand reached around me, opening it, then pushed me inside, following after. "Vittorio, have Miss Shaw's guest room prepared—" My captor's soulless gaze passed over me. "The red room, I think."

"Yes, Sire." Vittorio, several inches shorter, backed out of the room.

We were suddenly alone. I gulped, my emotions ping-ponging between anger, fear, defiance—

"Have a seat, Miss Shaw." He said it like he was conducting a business interview.

I glanced around. It was an office. In the center was a desk, its surface home to a sleek laptop, small stack of papers, and a single fountain pen. There were arched windows behind the desk, thin black mullions separating glass panes that glittered in the darkness. In them, I saw my reflection, pale, frightened. The walls of the office held rich wooden shelves, some with books, others with small items, figurines, trinkets.

"Miss Shaw—"

I scrambled into action, moving over to the nearest chair, sinking into it. He went around the desk and took a seat, facing me. I spent a few moments looking him over. In better light, he was even more striking, infuriatingly so.

"You never told me your name," I bit out.

"I didn't, no." His low voice skittered over my skin.

"Do you expect me to call you Sire, like everyone else?"

His eyes heated, pupils blackening before returning to normal. "You may, if you wish."

"I would never." I could think of a lot of other names I'd like to call him, though. Instead, I said, "What's your name?"

He hesitated, considering me. "Laurent Sarkas."

"Laurent Sarkas," I repeated, trying to sound mocking, but failing miserably. His eyes flared. It was the kind of name that rolled off the tongue deliciously, tasting just as good spoken as it sounded.

He watched me, unmoving, not so much as breathing. It was unnatural. Went against everything I knew, everything I understood.

I cleared my throat. "What was that about the amplifier thing—?"

"Sarkas." A voice interrupted, entering the room. I craned my neck, turning. Another vampire. I knew it immediately, simply looking at him. He had olive colored skin, black hair that curled about his head, and the same sharp features I'd seen on Laurent and Vittorio.

"Sit, Marco."

Their names...Flourilian. I'd always wanted to go to Flouril, the southernmost country in Etipura. Enjoy some pasta, take a gondola ride, study the architecture. Many famous mathematicians had come from Flouril—

"Zola wasn't lying," Marco said, incredulous, taking a seat beside me. "An amplifier? Here in Braxton? How is it possible?" He didn't take his eyes from me. The longer he stared, the more I itched. His pupils blew wide, poisoned veins shooting across his skin. My instincts kicked in. I gripped the arm rests, glancing towards the door, judging the distance.

Laurent had warned me not to flee.

The moment sharpened, the severity of my situation fully sinking in. Vampires existed. They existed—they were real. I was trapped in a room with two of them, lethal predators, and they looked ready to devour me.