SUDDENLY JANE’S FEET were freed. Nicolai snaked out an arm, catching her before she could bolt. Not that she would have. Or, yeah. She would have. Actually, even with his grip, she still could. All she had to do was disappear. To disappear, all she had to do was think of her home.

As the man she loved tugged her closer…closer…panic took over, her thoughts too chaotic to tame. Then, an unexpected calm took hold of her. This was the man she loved. The man who claimed to love her. The man who did love her. He might be angry with her—furious, even—but he wouldn’t kill her. This was a trick to trap Laila.

He wouldn’t ever hurt her. She knew that on a bone-deep level. He was beautiful and wanton, wicked and yet principled. She’d given herself to him body and soul. Now and forever, just as he’d given himself to her. Nothing would change that, not even her past. She trusted him.

Blind trust had never come easily to her. She’d always believed in proof. Testing theories, changing variables and watching reactions, but blind trust was what she was giving her man. He’d come through for her time after time, and he would again.

Yes, she knew there was a dark side to his nature.

Hell, she’d seen him in action on multiple occasions. No matter what, however, he would never turn that dark side on her. So, he had a plan. Pretending to want to kill her was part of it.

“Release me, too, princess,” Nicolai said.

“No. Just the girl.”

He growled, but that was the only indication he gave that he’d heard her.

Jane couldn’t let another moment go by without telling him how she felt. “I’m so sorry, Nicolai. I didn’t mean to—”

“Silence.” A lash, and yet he gave her the subtlest of nods, as if he wanted her to continue.

Still he dragged her closer, until her body was flush with his. His heat enveloped her, so familiar she relaxed.

“I worked for the government, and yes, I studied your kind, but I never tortured and I never killed. I didn’t know you at the time, and I didn’t know what I did would hurt you or someone you loved. I just tried to help my people understand what—”

“Be. Quiet.” His fangs flashed down at her, but again, he gave her the barest hint of a nod.

“I love you. No matter what happens or what you have to do, I will always love you.”

“What are you waiting for?” Laila snapped. “Do it.”

Jane could hear the rush of Nicolai’s blood. While his expression was calm, stern, his heart beat erratically. He was not as unaffected as he seemed.

He didn’t look away from her when he said, “I’m going to drink from her neck, princess. I’m also going to cover her mouth to prevent her from screaming.”

“Let her scream,” Laila said, anger soothed. “I’ll like it.”

“I will not have anyone rushing into this tent and watching. Nor do I want you nearing us until she’s…dead.”

Pretend. This is pretend, she reminded herself. Otherwise, he would have simply swooped down, savagely bit and sucked the life right out of her. Yet, here he stood, arguing with his tormentor, demanding certain concessions.

“Do not tell me what to do, slave. I—”

“Will accept my terms or we are back to where we started.”

A pause. Jane drew in a deep breath and tilted her head to the side as she exhaled, giving him easier access to her vein. His eyes widened, his pupils flaring. His fangs lengthened and sharpened a little more.

“I want her on the floor,” he croaked. “Release my feet, Laila. You can stop me again if I lunge for you.”

Another pause.

“Very well,” Laila said on a sigh.

A second later, Nicolai was urging Jane the rest of the way to the ground.

He loomed over her as he had countless other times. Her hair splayed around her shoulders, and her robe sagged.

“Nicolai,” she breathed.

“Not another word, Jane.” The gold flecks in his eyes seemed to swirl. Down, down he leaned. Breath emerged from her lungs and mouth shallowly. Just as his teeth sank home, he flattened his hand over her mouth.

Her eyes flared. Her body bowed. Warm, electric pleasure entered with his teeth, shooting through every inch of her. He was sucking slowly, so slowly, taking little sips. And his hand…his hand was cut, his blood dripping into her mouth, down her throat and swirling in her belly.

He was feeding her even as he drank from her. His fingers tapped at her cheek, a bid for…something.

She had only to reason this out.

He’d told Laila he would kill her. Therefore, he was pretending to kill her. And any time Jane had spoken up to soften him, he’d told her to shut the hell up but had really wanted her to keep talking. So…he must want her acting panicked and disbelieving while acting uncaring himself.

She tested her theory, struggling against him, giving Laila a show. When Nicolai grunted his approval, she knew beyond any doubt. She pounded her fists into his shoulders, as if trying to shove him away. She bucked, as if trying to dislodge him.

When the wound in his hand closed up, he ground his palm against her teeth to reopen the flesh. Once again, his blood trickled down her throat.

Then, he groaned, sucking a little harder at her vein, drawing a little more blood.

Enough, she thought she heard him say, but that was impossible. His lips were still on her vein. Enough. You have to stop. He lifted his head, panting, licked his lips, then dove back down, biting her in a new place. This, too, pumped pleasure straight into her veins.

Careful, careful, careful. Don’t take too much. Slow down.

Jane frowned. Nicolai was speaking, but he was doing so straight into her head.

Have to time this just right. Again, his voice drifted through her head. The pressure against her vein eased.

Nicolai?

His body jerked against hers. Jane?

Yes. I can hear you, and now I’m guessing you can hear me. How is that possible?

He licked her neck, careful not to let Laila see. Some blood drinkers share a mental connection.

“Hurry,” the princess snapped.

I need you to kill the princess for me.

Though he wanted the pleasure of doing so, he couldn’t. He’d vowed not to. Which meant, someone had to do it for him. So, that was his plan. To have Jane strike the lethal blow.

Consider it done.

Thank you. A pause. I’m sorry for what I did to you. Before. And now.

I’m sorry, too. Her heart skipped a beat.

The princess has lowered her defenses, just as we hoped, and I’ve absorbed some of her power. The spell that stopped anyone from hurting her is now mine. She’ll still be strong, however, just not as strong.

Nicolai didn’t drink much more. He even dribbled several mouthfuls of blood down Jane’s neck and onto the ground. He was creating a mess, she knew. The illusion of death. She forced her struggles to slow…slow…until sagging limply, arms falling uselessly to her sides. She lay there, breathing as shallowly as possible. So much so she knew not even Nicolai could see the rise and fall of her chest.

Through tiny slits in her eyelids she watched him lift his head. Blood continued to drip from his chin, splashing on her collar and absorbing into her robe. He pressed two fingers into her nape, searching for a pulse. She knew what he felt: a wild, strong beat.

“It’s done.” Nicolai severed all contact as he stood. “I’ve done my part. Now you do yours.”

“Step away from her,” Laila said. “I will check for myself.”

He didn’t hesitate. He moved to the other side of the tent, away from Jane, away from the princess.

But…just how was she supposed to kill the woman? She had no weapons, and Laila wasn’t devoid of all her powers. She could cast a spell in the blink of an eye.

Come on, Parker. Think. Footsteps pattered. Body heat wafted. Think faster. Then the creak of bones echoed as Laila crouched. The body heat drew closer…closer…as the princess reached out.

The flicker of an idea presented itself. Dangerous, untested, but the only way. Nicolai, can she travel with only a thought, like you? Jane rushed out.

No.

Perfect. Laila’s fingers pressed into Jane’s neck. Jane opened her eyes, reached up and latched onto her wrist. A gasp of shock sounded. At the same time, Nicolai swooped in and grabbed the timepiece from around Laila’s neck.

“Mine,” he snapped. “Jane. Now.”

“What are you—?” Laila began.

Before the princess could begin casting, Jane closed her eyes and pictured her home—with Laila in it. Now that her mind was calm, her focus cold, it wasn’t difficult. She saw her kitchen, experienced a wave of dizziness. Laila struggled against her, but as the dizziness intensified, the struggles slowed. For a moment, Jane felt as if she were floating, and tightened her grip on the princess.

“What are you…what…?” Laila’s voice was weak, and Jane could hear an underlay of pain.

“Jane,” Nicolai shouted. “Jane! What are you doing?”

When the dizziness left her, when she felt something hard and chilled pressing into her back, she looked around. She and Laila were inside her kitchen. Sunlight streamed in through the window, burning her so badly she actually sizzled. She rolled away with a hiss of pain, seeking the shade.

Nicolai hadn’t teleported with Jane that night in the forest, but then, he hadn’t been operating at full tilt. Most of his abilities had still been locked away. Tonight, he’d been like a powder keg—and so was Jane.

She stopped, flat on her back, Laila still in a crouch. The princess was pallid, sweating and…falling. She hit the floor, face-first.

Jane meant to leap away, grab a knife. That’s the reason she’d brought the witch here. Suddenly she could scent Laila’s blood. It wasn’t an altogether pleasant smell, and yet hunger twisted her stomach. Such raw, consuming hunger.

Before she realized she’d even moved, she was angled toward the princess, her teeth sinking into her vein. Only a trickle of blood met her tongue. Frustration clawed at her. She angled her head, bit again. Again, only a trickle. She lifted, found the princess’s pulse with her gaze, then swooped back down. This time, the blood flowed like a newly awakened river.

She should have had to chew to get what she wanted, a thought that grossed her out, but her gums were aching terribly, and her teeth—fangs?—had slid right in.

Warm, rushing life continued to fill her mouth. She moaned, dug her teeth in deeper, sucked harder, replenishing what she’d lost.

She must have hit a nerve because Laila came out of her faint with a jolt, and tried to push Jane away. She tightened her hold, gulping and gulping and gulping. Soon, Laila ceased struggling. Went as limp as a rag. Jane continued to drink, physically unable to pull herself from the drug that was this woman’s blood. Drug, yes. Because, with the blood, something else, something warmer, almost…fizzy, rushed through her.

Her cells practically exploded with energy.

Stop, you have to stop. If she took any more, she would kill the princess. She could hear the distant thump-thump of a heartbeat, and knew it was slowing, almost beyond repair. The flow of blood was trickling off, thinning.

I don’t want to stop. I brought her here to kill her. Stopping defeats the purpose.

But in the back of her mind, she knew—somehow, as if the memory were not her own—that to kill this way was to live this way. One death would not be enough. She would drain everyone she drank from. Always. No one would be safe from her. Not even Nicolai.

Nicolai.

Panting, she jerked her teeth out of Laila. She flicked her tongue and, sure enough, she had fangs.

Nicolai had made her a vampire.

With a shaky hand, she brushed the hair from her face. When she caught sight of that hand in the light, she gasped.

She…glowed. Bright, golden, white lightning exploded from her skin. And the crackling in her veins…she felt like she could do anything. Until she moved her hand into a ray of that sunlight and started sizzling. She groaned with pain, her arm falling to her side.

Note to self: avoid the sun.

Another thing of note: You’re here for a reason. Don’t forget.

As if she could.

She leaped up and, knowing exactly where her knives were, grabbed one, careful to remain in the shadows. As she peered down at the woman who had enslaved Nicolai, taken away his rights, abused him physically and sexually—for over twenty years!—she found that she couldn’t stab her. Couldn’t kill the bitch that way, either.

Death would be too easy for Laila. You have to do something. When she wakes up, she’ll use her magic against you.

Could she, though? This world was different from Laila’s, with different metaphysical laws, different atmospheres. Would her magic work here? Nicolai’s ability to cross from one world to the other worked in both places, but while Nicolai could withstand his own sun, he would not be able to withstand Jane’s. Proof: she could tolerate his, but not hers. And she’d dealt with this sun all her life.

She wished she had interviewed or dissected a witch—and she didn’t care what kind of monster people would think her for such a desire. But one had never been brought to her lab. Could that be because no one had known they were here? Could they not use any of their powers in this world, and were rendered human?

There was one way to find out.

Jane dragged the princess to her bedroom, which was hard to do with her windows and drapes all open, found rope and tied the bitch to the bedposts. Not once did Laila awaken. Jane showered quickly, cleaning off the blood, then dressed in familiar jeans and a T-shirt. Felt odd, wearing her “normal” clothes. Felt…wrong.

Trembling, she threw the robe in the washer. Nicolai? she cast out mentally, hoping for a reply. Are you out there? Are you okay? Soon as she took care of Laila, she would go back to him.

They hadn’t yet bonded fully. Otherwise, neither of them would have been able to drink from others. She wanted to bond fully.

Jane returned to her bedroom, pushed a chair in front of the princess and waited. She wouldn’t let herself think about Nicolai yet.

Hours passed, ticking by slowly. Finally, though, Laila cracked open her eyes. She moaned, tugged at her bonds, frowned. Realization jolted her upright—or rather, as much as possible.

“Relax,” Jane told her. “I haven’t done anything to you that you haven’t done to someone else.”

“You’ll pay for this,” Laila snarled.

“And you’re stuck here.”

A moment passed, then another. Then, suddenly, Jane could hear the woman’s voice in her head, as clearly as she’d heard Nicolai’s. What did she do to me? Why can’t I use my magic?

Jane smiled. Well, well. One blessing at least. “You can’t use your magic because you’re in my world now.”

Laila gasped. “How did you know that?” Oh, great goddess. She has my powers. She has my powers!

“No, I don’t. I am a vampire, though.”

“Stop that!” She’s reading my mind, the bitch. I hate her! Now clear your mind. How did she become like Nicolai?

“I drank his blood.”

“Stop doing that, I said.”

Jane chewed on her bottom lip. If she could read minds, she could go deeper than surface thoughts. Right?

She focused more intently on Laila’s thoughts…. Have to escape… How do I escape without my powers? I have to steal my powers back.

She probed a little deeper. Suddenly she was reliving the episode on her kitchen floor. Except, she saw and felt and heard through Laila’s senses. Waking up to untutored fangs in her neck, weakened, unable to use her powers. Powers she’d relied on her entire life. She had taken the princess’s powers, Jane realized. That was what fizzed inside her veins.

Nicolai could absorb other people’s powers, and when Jane had consumed his blood, she must have developed that ability just like the teleportation.

She probed even deeper. There seemed to be a thousand different voices, a thousand flashes from the girl’s life. She listened and watched for the things concerning Nicolai… There!

She watched, listened. Hated the princess all over again.

“You wiped Nicolai’s mind,” she growled as she came back to the present. She was shaking. “You told him—and he thought—a healer had done it.”

Laila paled. “I’m not saying anything to you.”

“You don’t have to.” Laila had wiped his mind and bound his powers, then planted a new memory, one of the healer doing so. She hadn’t wanted him to blame her. She’d also tried to plant suggestions of love and adoration, but while she had manipulated his thoughts, she hadn’t been able to manipulate his emotions.

And now I can do so, Jane thought. She wasn’t exactly sure how to use the ability, so she latched onto every memory she could, pictured a black box and stuffed them inside, hiding them away.

“What are you doing?” Laila demanded. “Stop… What…why…?”

Jane remained silent. She worked for hours, grabbing and stuffing, grabbing and stuffing. When she finished, the cabin was dark and musty, and her body so weak she had already slid out of her chair.

She met Laila’s gaze. A blank gaze. “Who—who are you?” Panic sprouted. “Who am I?”

“Tit for tat,” Jane said with a forced smile. When the sun set, she loaded Laila into her car, drove her into the nearest town and dropped her off. She was without powers, memory and money. She would have to place herself at someone else’s mercy.

Mercy she might not find.

Jane returned home, pulled on her robe and threw herself on her bed. She pictured the tent where she’d last seen Nicolai, but…nothing happened. She tried again…with the same result.

She tried for hours, the entire night. By morning she was a sobbing mess, weak, sick to her stomach. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t return.

The curse had finally kicked in.