I somehow managed a nod, glancing nervously at the door. But Logan, it seemed, had other plans. He pulled up a rug, revealing a trapdoor.

“You have a real life secret passage?” I couldn’t help but ask. Man, this house really did have everything, didn’t it?

He didn’t answer, concentrating on lifting up the door, which revealed a dark pit—and a ladder leading into nothingness. I swallowed hard. I hated closed-in spaces. But the shouts of the intruders were getting closer and it seemed this was our only option of escape. I would have to find a way to deal.

“We have the place surrounded,” one of them yelled, as if to prove my point. “Come out now, or we will come and get you ourselves.”

Logan motioned for me to go first. Of course. Sucking in a breath, I forced my feet to obey, my entire body shaking with fear. My hands wrapped around the rungs of the ladder as I started down, step by step, until I was completely engulfed in blackness. I gritted my teeth; did no one ever think of installing a light switch in their secret tunnel? Would that have been so damn hard?

I could hear Logan above and tried to concentrate on the sound of his own feet, hitting each rung as he followed me down. Reminding myself that at least I wasn’t alone.

But that thought wasn’t nearly comforting enough once Logan pulled the rug back over the trap door and closed it behind us, eclipsing the small sliver of light from above. Now we were in total cave darkness and I had to bite down on my lower lip, so as not to whimper with fear.

I would have made a very crappy book heroine. But you try being brave at a time like this. See how you do!

Down and down I went. How deep was this pit anyway? Would it really bring us somewhere safe? Was there anywhere safe anymore?

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, I felt my feet connect with the floor. I dropped down, practically moaning in relief at the feeling of solid ground beneath me. A moment later, I felt Logan step down next to me. He reached out, finding my hand and taking it into his own. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

“Tell me you didn’t forget the flashlight,” I managed to squeak.

His warm laugh rippled through the air. “Don’t worry, little writer. I can see just fine down here.”

Okay then. Vampire night vision. Check. One more fun fact for the day.

And so I had no choice but to let him lead, down the blackened passageway, so dark I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face. My other hand was having a much better time of things, locked in Logan’s own. His grip was strong, yet gentle. Cool in temperature, but warm in intention. As if to assure me he had things under control. That he wouldn’t let anything happen to me. Not under his watch.

It shouldn’t have made me feel better, but somehow it did.

We walked for what felt like forever, but was probably only ten minutes or so. When we finally stopped, I heard something—the scrape of a lock? A moment later a sliver of light appeared. A door was opening. I let out a breath of relief as Logan ushered me inside. Thank God. No more darkness.

We emerged into a luxurious looking hallway, walls covered with paintings from famous artists that didn’t look like replicas. Logan closed the door behind us then turned to me, his eyes piercing down at me, assessing my well-being.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

I managed a nod. “Who were those people?” I asked. “Other vampires?”

“I believe they were from Slayer, Inc.,” he replied.

I winced, remembering him talking about Slayer, Inc. earlier. If they were really after us…

“But you were only protecting me!” I protested, even as guilt swam through my stomach. No matter what Logan said, I knew this was my fault. And now they had a hit out on him, because he had saved my sorry ass.

“Right. Well, that’s what I’m going to try to explain when I plead my case,” he replied. “While the life of a mortal doesn’t hold as much value to the Consortium than that of a vampire’s, there’s still a strict code against attacking humans.”

I pursed my lips. His argument sounded weak at best. I sure hope it worked. I looked around. “Where are we, anyway?” I asked.

“The Blood Coven headquarters.”

“What?” My heart started beating fast again. We were in a vampire coven? An actual, legit, underground vampire coven? Talk about going from the frying pan to the fire. “But won’t they turn us in if they find us here?”

“I am going to talk to the Master,” Logan explained. “Jareth is a good man. If anyone will understand, he will.”

The hallway dead-ended at a wooden door, guarded by two men. Two vampires, to be precise. When they saw me, they gave me a disapproving once over, their eyes raking from my head to my toes. As if I were gum they had discovered on the bottoms of their shoes.

They turned to Logan. “What is it?” the first one asked. “The Master is very busy.”

Logan returned their look. “He won’t be too busy for me.”

The guards exchanged glances, then shrugged. The second one turned to open the door behind him. “Wait here,” he said, before slipping through and closing it again. I glanced at Logan, my body still humming with nerves. He gave me a sympathetic smile and reached out to squeeze my hand.

Gah! His cool, strong touch sent spirals of feels spinning out to every extremity. Seriously, what was it about this guy that made my body sing like a canary, every time he came close? Was it the vampire scent thing? But no, the guard standing in front of me was also a vampire. And he was doing nothing for me. Nor had the guy outside the club—even before he attempted to drain me dry.

It was Logan and Logan alone who got my engines purring. And that could turn out, I realized, to be a huge problem.

I started to pull my hand away. But at that moment the guard returned. He ushered Logan through the door. “You stay here,” he said to me in a curt voice. “No humans allowed beyond this point.”

I glanced down the empty hall, my nerves returning with a vengeance. “Here?” I asked. I shot a pleading look at Logan. I didn’t want to be left alone. Not with Slayer Inc on our tails.

“At least let her come into the waiting room,” he said to the guard.

The vampire didn’t look happy, but widened the door and allowed me in.

We stepped into a plush waiting room, all decked out in velvet and crimson. These vampires really did like the whole Victorian-chic thing. Once inside, I obediently sat myself down on one of the sofas and grabbed a magazine. It was a tabloid, funny enough. Race Jameson the rock star was on the cover. Wait, was he a vampire? That would explain a LOT.

I looked up, realizing Logan was still staring at me, a concerned expression on his face. “Go, do your vampire thing,” I told him. “I’m good here.”

He looked relieved and turned back to the guard who led him into the inner chamber, where evidently the big bad vampire master was. I watched them go, preparing to turn back to my magazine and read the Race Jameson story—I’d always been a big fan. But before I could, a teenage girl danced out the door the vampires had just exited from. She stopped when she saw me, raising an eyebrow.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

I stared at her. She had dyed, black shoulder-length hair, pale skin, red lips. She was wearing this lacy black dress paired with heavy looking combat boots. But it wasn’t her outfit that threw me the most. It was how familiar she looked.

“You’re…?” I racked my brain trying to place her.

“Rayne McDonald,” she said. Then her mouth broke out into a huge smile. “I’m your biggest fan!”

Wait, what?

And then it hit me. Exactly where I knew this girl from. She was a member of my online street team. Darla had suggested I do a street team after the first book went crazy. I called them the Amazing Maisies. And they helped me spread the word during book releases, in exchange for advanced copies of the books and other swag.

What on earth was a member of my street team doing down here? And why was she walking out of the coven master’s inner sanctum, as if she owned the place? Was she one of those blood donors Logan spoke about? Or…

She plopped herself down beside me, her eyes shining with enthusiasm. “Oh my God, it’s such an honor to meet you,” she gushed. “Your books. They are life-changers. I’ve read every single one of them at least three times. The way you describe vampires!” She pretended to swoon. “If only they were like that in real life.”

I frowned. What was it with people telling me my characters weren’t like real vampires? Though I supposed they weren’t entirely wrong, from what I’d seen so far. Still, couldn’t they just leave me a one-star review somewhere? Did they have to keep rubbing it in my face?

“It’s…uh, nice to meet you, too,” I stammered, feeling as if she expected me to say something. “Do you…are you…?” Okay, so my mouth wasn’t working too well. But do you blame me?

She grinned. “Yes. I’m a vampire. I’m also a fairy. And I’m on the cheerleading squad.”

“Cheerleading?” I looked her in disbelief, then blushed. Because duh, that was like the least weird thing she had just said.

“It’s a long story.” She smiled at me. “What are you doing here? Are you doing research for your books? Do you need a model for your new characters? Just say the word—I’m your vampire!”

“It’s a little more serious than that, I’m afraid,” I said, staring down at my hands. I told her about the vampire at the club. About Logan taking me back home. About Slayer Inc.

“What?” Rayne cried indignantly when I mention the vampire slaying organization. “How dare they threaten my favorite author! I am going to have a word with T-Dogg.”

“T-Dogg?”

“Oh, Mr. Teifert. He’s the Slayer Inc. Vice President. Also, the drama teacher at my old high school. Super nice guy, actually. At least when he doesn’t hold a commission to kill you.”

“I’m sure he’s…lovely.”

She rose to her feet. “Don’t worry. I’ve got this.” She headed to the door. “No way I’m letting anyone slay you. At least not until you finish your series.”

I gave her a weak smile, suddenly reminded of a certain Stephen King book. “That’s…um…very kind of you….Um…”

“Rayne,” she reminded me. Then she reached into her pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. “Here’s my cell. Call me if you need anything. Anything at all.”

I took it from her, still feeling completely baffled by the scene. “Thank you,” I said. “I really appreciate it.”

“No problem.” She paused, then added. “Oh, but I do have one request.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Can Jade please get her own story someday? And her own vampire? It’s so not fair having the sister be nothing more than a sidekick with a great sense of humor.”

I laughed. “You definitely are not the first reader to ask that.”

“But I’m the reader who’s saving your life,” she shot back, not missing a beat. “So, you know. Turn around, fair play, all that?”

“I’ll consider it.”

Rayne gave me one last smile, then danced out of the room. I watched her go, shaking my head. Who would have thought I’d find a fan down here? It really was a strange world.

The door opened then. Logan stepped out, a troubled look on his face. I rose to my feet. “Is everything okay?” I asked.

He shrugged. “It’s fine,” he said, though his expression said otherwise. He forced a smile to his face. “Jareth said we could stay here for a bit. Where we’ll be safe.”

“Great,” I said. And I was surprised to realize I actually meant it. Before tonight I would have been horrified at the idea of sleeping in an underground crypt filled with real life vampires. But it had been a long 24 hours.

A porter showed up, seemingly out of nowhere. “I’ll take you to your room,” he said.

I frowned. “He means rooms, right?” I hissed at Logan. He shot me a warning look, but didn’t reply.

We walked down an ornate hallway with dark carpet and oil portraits on the wall, alternating with dim sconces. I tried to take in every detail—maybe I could use this place in one of my books someday. If I got out of this mess in the end.

The porter stopped in front of a nondescript door that looked, to me anyway, exactly the same as every other door we’d passed in the hall. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a long, silver key. No card locks at Hotel Transylvania evidently. I suddenly wondered if they had Wi-Fi. I still hadn’t emailed Darla. She must be freaking out hardcore at this point.

The door creaked open. Logan gestured for me to step inside. I did, finding the equivalent of a hotel room. A king sized bed. A dresser. An armchair. No windows, of course. But no coffins either. So there was that.

“Is this my room?” I asked.

The porter looked confused. “It’s for the two of you,” he said. “You are betrothed, are you not?”

“Betrothed?” I coughed out.

Logan stamped on my foot. Then he put a loving arm around me and smiled at the porter. “This is perfect,” he said, handing him a wad of bills. “Thank you.”

The porter shrugged. “Do you need ice?”

“We’ll be fine. Just…call me when my donor arrives.”

The porter nodded, as if this was a perfectly natural request. Blood room service. Why not? He stepped out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

Leaving me once again alone with a vampire.