"That's...that's not a choice." The words barely broke past my lips. The air needed to provide my tongue voice was constrained by the swelling fear in my heart and the rising panic clenching my throat.

"Actually, it is," said Antonov matter-of-factly. "You choose to either live or die. It just appears to be a lack of choice because only one option is really viable in most situations."

"If you're here," said Kyra, her words precise and clear, her eyes still and strong as they focused in on me, "then you must not want to go home anyway."

"We don't know that for sure," said Everett in a whispered growl. "The mages are struggling..."

"Of course she wants to go home," interjected Antonov, whose voice had picked up a tick of impatience. "She just hasn't realized yet that her new home is my manor." He then approached the bars and extended a hand through them. "Please, let me sponsor you. Look to my wives, they are fine, healthy women. I won't hurt you and you can come to know this town in the comforts only I can offer."

"The human housing is just as comfortable," added Everett.

"Do they have goose down pillows and 900 count Egyptian cotton sheets?" asked Antonov. Everett didn't respond. "Human housing is just a slightly more comfortable version of a jail cell."

"That's not true," snarled Everett through gritted teeth, his dark eyes burning as he glared at the side of Antonov's blissfully oblivious head. Then he took a breath and cast his gaze towards me. "It's not," he added in a more sympathetic tone.

"I..." I looked over at the two women, still silent and stoic behind Antonov. At that point, I could only believe what my eyes saw — making assumptions in a town like Whisper Valley wasn't going to get me anywhere. And what I saw was two healthy women, kept in fine clothing and treated with care. I wasn't sure I could take the word of anyone in the room in regards to what people were, considering they'd labeled Antonov as a vampire, but I was willing to accept that if they called these two women human, then they must be. At that moment, to me, human equated to sane, and, for me, that meant Natasha and Scarlett were my best chances at getting real answers.

"I'd like to go with Mr. Antonov."

"It's Lord, dear, Lord Antonov, but I'll let that pass for now," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "You have much to learn."

"Ms. Cross, please reconsider," begged Everett as Kyra unlocked my cell. "You are safe in human housing. You'll be with other Bodies."

"I'm not just a body," I mumbled as I passed him on my way out of the cell.

"I know that," said Everett with a groan and a swipe of his large hand through his messy brown hair. "You just have a better chance of learning about this world around those who aren't sponsored yet."

"My wives did not magically forget who they were once they married me," scoffed Antonov as he ushered myself and the other ladies to the door. "Please do not disrespect them."

"Why can't I say a word without y'all finding some sort of offense?" he growled.

"Because you're a thuggish brute," answered Antonov with a shrug. "Now please give my regards to Calista. I'd wish her well on her new endeavors, but we're pushing dawn and I really must get home."

"Have a good morning Dragan. You too ladies," said Kyra with a nod of her head.

"You too my mistress," he answered in a rather deep bow before pushing us out the door.

The light orange of dawn had begun to brush the bottom edge of the night sky, but the pale circle of the moon still lulled above the horizon and dark swallowed the landscape. I tried to look around to get my bearings and establish some idea of where I had lost myself, but all I could gather in the dim light was one long street bordered by squat buildings that never stretched higher than two stories.

Before us idled a sleek black car that was just a little shorter than anything I would deem a limo, but also longer than the standard sedan. I watched Natasha and Scarlet slip in, noticing how they went to either side of the car as the seats were facing each other, rather than both facing forward. I followed closely behind them, but Antonov placed a hand on my shoulder, halting my entrance. I turned to see what was the matter, but found him looking past me and into the car.

"Natasha, dear. Other side. You would not have me insult our guest by not sitting next to her."

I turned back to look into the cab and found Natasha gazing at me with a vicious curl in her lip. Her nostrils flared and a spasm in her hands dug her nails into the fine leather of the seats. She did, however, eventually pick herself up, with her chin held high, and made her way over to where Scarlett sat with her back to the driver. Then the hand on my shoulder gave me a little nudge and I stepped in and took the seat still warm from its previous occupant.

Had I had the choice I would have happily let Natasha remain as she was. Scarlett looked like a far more courteous neighbor with her knees held tightly together and her hands tucked between them. Lord Antonov, however, made as much use of the space as he could. His knee resting against mine, his arm stretched over the back of the seat so that his fingers could twist around the strands of my hair and his head hovered close to mine, his breath oddly cold as it brushed against my ear.

"Well, Delilah, what do you think of my car?" The hand that had been teasing my hair became a bit more clumsy with its gestures and would stroke my cheek every now and then.

"It's lovely. I've never been in a car with real leather seats." I didn't know what else to add. It had a moon roof, which was kind of fun, but other than that, nothing caught my notice. It may have been because cars were not my forte, or because Natasha's gaze was searing my skin.

"Should you become my wife, you can have free use of it during the day when I'm sleeping." His hand stopped teasing my hair entirely and his arm gave up the pretense of using the back of the chair for support. Instead it slipped down behind my neck, while the hand grabbed my shoulder and pulled me into his chest. I felt him rest his cheek atop my head, while my heart squeezed with fear. "Natasha usually takes it out to the salon and spa once a week. Perhaps she can escort you one of these days."

"Whatever you wish, my Lord." I didn't bother to look at Natasha. The curt tone of her voice told me the leggy brunette would only meet my gaze with animosity. Instead, I turned to Scarlett and when I saw her watching me with sympathetic eyes, I felt uncertain I could keep the tears from breaking past my defenses.

"Now Scarlett likes to walk most places, but the manor is some ways from town so you'd still need to drive back to main street. I'm sure she could give you a tour tomorrow."

"Of course," she answered with a small smile.

"Then, there's my dear Zelda," he said, with a sort of awe in his voice. "That wonderful woman is always at home. So attentive to our needs. She will certainly be able to give you a full tour of the house. In fact, I think she knows more about the old place than I do." His laughter shook his chest and the soft wool of his suit brushed against my burning cheek. "There are some rules I should go over though."

He released his hold so as to count off the house rules upon his fingers. With my shoulders free from his grip, air sucked back into my lungs as if I'd suddenly popped out of the water just before drowning. Desperate to maintain my sense of personal space, I cowered into the far corner, keeping my eyes to the floor while he listed his expectations.

Mainly he covered things that seemed stereotypically vampiric. I did admire his commitment to the game. We were to stay away from his wing during the day as he needed his sleep. Blinds were to be closed two hours before sunset in case he decided to rise early. And there was a strict diet in the household to keep blood clear of impurities.

By the time he finished, the glow of the coming morning began to win its battle with night and the rising sun cast the landscape in a dull light. Soon we pulled up to what looked like an old plantation house. A wide porch wrapped around it and an impressive balcony covered the full expanse of the front of the house on the second floor. Thick white columns held up the balcony, which was guarded by ornate wrought iron rails. A few dormer windows dotted the roof and a chimney sat on either side of the house. Waiting atop the grand stairway up to the porch was a woman with inky black curly hair dressed in a silky robe that fluttered in the light morning breeze.

"Good morning, my dear husband," said the woman I presumed to be Zelda. "Please hurry inside. All has been attended to and I will show our guest to her room."

"Thank you my dear," replied Antonov, who jumped out of the car without a word to the rest of us. "You are too good to me."

I slipped out in time to see him plant a kiss on the other woman's forehead, which she received with a contented smile on her full, dark lips. Without thinking, I tossed a glance over my shoulder to see Scarlett and Natasha exit the car. Scarlett watched on with the same fragile smile she had worn the whole night, while Natasha looked on with a fierce thinness to her lips. I took some comfort in knowing that there was someone in the world that she hated more than me.

Antonov blew a quick kiss to us as he raced inside the door. Once he departed, Zelda glided down the steps to meet us. "What is your name?" she asked of me.

"Delilah Cross. Most people call me Del."

"It is good to meet you," she said, offering her hand, which I took in kindness. "You must be tired. Come. Follow me to your room."

I took little notice of my surroundings as she whisked me through the hallways. It was all grand, all well maintained, all aesthetically pleasing, but my eyes only yearned for one thing. The sight of a welcoming bed. The second I hit those goose down pillows and Egyptian cotton sheets, I drifted off into a much needed sleep.