“Amy!” Ivanka says cheerfully. She looks half-drunk and I suppose she is, since she just drank the blood of someone very intoxicated.

“You two disgust me,” I say, my teeth gritted. “Why did you kill this girl?”

“She wanted to be dead,” Mika says. “We helped her.”

“You did not help her,” I say. “You should have left her alone. And you used my power to find a victim, didn’t you?”

“Of course, we did,” Mika says with an epic eye roll that seems incredibly and oddly human in the moment. “You want us to help you, you help us. We were hungry. And we took the life of someone who was done living.”

“We may have made a deal, but I have gotten nothing from any of you so far, other than a weird vision and a headache. This deal is off. I’m not doing this anymore.”

I turn to leave but Mika is there instantaneously. She blocks the door.

“You’re not walking away,” Mika says. “A deal is a deal.”

“Fuck you,” I say, trying to push my way past her.

She’s strong, though. I am strong, but I am human. Mika’s strength is tenfold to mine, and she’s also blood-drunk and angry and, as usual, aroused. She grabs my shoulders and barely shoves, but I lose my footing. I fall backward, into Ivanka’s arms. She holds my arms behind my back and though I try to fight her off, it is like being held by iron.

Mika, from who knows where, procures rope that she uses to tie to the bed. Ivanka moves me placing my limbs just so as Mika ties me up, splayed wide on the bed.

I know it’s serious when Mika and Ivanka avoid their usual monologues. They work efficiently, ripping the glittery shirt from my body, baring my breasts to them.

Mika is first, her teeth grazing along the skin above my breast, her tongue flicking against my nipple.

“Let me go,” I grunt as I struggle away from her attentions. “I don’t want this.”

“Rules of humans don’t apply,” Mika says. “We play by our own rules. We drink what we want, fuck who we want. Tonight, we’ll have you.”

Ivanka sinks her teeth into the sensitive skin at my side. The pleasure of it pushes my hips up off the bed, even as I bare my teeth like an animal, growling at her to stop.

Mika’s teeth settle into my breast, her fingers flirting with the waistband of my jeans, finding their way beneath the fabric, into my folds. I hate that I’m wet. This is how it goes. When a vampire feeds, a human’s body is hyper-aroused so that he or she doesn’t feel pain or fear. It is a reaction designed to allow vampires to have pleasurable feeding experiences. In my head, I know this. I am still lucid, still able to think rationally, even though my body succumbs easily to the arousal.

Suddenly, just as I am about to climax, I see Vincent. He pulls Mika away, tossing her to the side like a rag doll. Ivanka backs away on her own, her smile stained with my blood.

“Come to join us at the buffet?” Ivanka asks. “You can’t have her all to yourself, you know.”

“She is not yours,” he says. “She is mine, and you know it. I could kill you for this.”

“I did not scent you on her,” Ivanka says.

“You are lying,” he says.

“Perhaps you are not bedding her frequently enough?” Ivanka taunts. “Perhaps she does not please you. I could please you. We can feast on her together and fuck until moments before sunrise.”

“She. Is. Mine.” Vincent says. “We have the permanent bond.”

“Lies!” Mika yells. “We would know if that were the case.”

“She is drained and nearly lifeless,” Vincent says. “The bond is what pulled me here.”

Ivanka and Mika exchange a glance. Ivanka says, “We cannot risk harming another vampire’s bonded mate.”

“He is lying. He always lies,” Mika says. She turns to Vincent. “Why do you do this? Why do you antagonize your brethren? Why do you fight for humans? They will die so soon. Why love them this way?”

My breath catches at the word “love,” but I know she cannot mean it the way a human would. She doesn’t mean that he loves me, only that he is enamored with me and my human qualities.

Vincent does not bother with an answer. He simply picks me up, holding me to his chest as he walks out of the room.

He pulls off his jacket once we reach his red convertible, slipping it around my shoulders, as I am now completely naked from the waist up. He settles me into the passenger seat and then makes his way to the driver’s side. We drive in silence for a long time.

“I can’t get her out of my head,” I say after a long while. “The girl they killed. They acted like I was doing a party trick, reading auras. I didn’t even say she was depressed or suicidal. But I went to her, wanted to check on her. I should have…I focused on the actor and I should have gotten the girl the help she needed.”

“They will use you for whatever end amuses them,” Vincent says. “Forever.”

I look out the window as he speeds down the highway.

“We have to complete the bond, Amy,” he says. “There is no other way to keep you safe from them. Not now that I have said we were already bonded.”

I think about this and my mind goes to my conversation with Tristian. Damon is gone. He is halfway across the world. He is not coming back. I have struggled with this idea of being bonded to Vincent mainly because I had hoped Damon would return, but I know that I am wasting my hope. And even if he did, could he even forgive me, how would he feel to know I have again been intimate with Vincent, a vampire, a creature he was born to hate.

And could we ever have a normal life together. Not just because of the supernatural, but also because of me, Because I am not a good partner. Heck, I don’t even really think monogamy is possible in the long-term. Because I don’t really want two kids and a picket fence and a dog. Well, maybe a dog…

I do love him. Damon, that is; not the dog. I mean, I loved my dog, too. Anyway… I know that emotion is real, at least with him. My feelings for Vincent, though – are they love? I don’t know. I felt it when I chose to give my life to save his. I feel it still, sometimes, but it’s complicated. It’s sexual and intense and chemical and irrational and sometimes violent. There is a connection between us, but I cannot name it. Nor am I sure he could ever return it.

It is time, yes, to let Damon go. At least, with Vincent, there will not be any unrealistic expectation of monogamy. And I will be protected from the coven, and other vampires who might want to hurt or use me for their own pleasure.

“Yes,” I say.

“Yes?” he asks as he pulls in front of my apartment building.

“Okay,” I say. “Let’s do the bond.”

We walk up to the apartment. He doesn’t say anything, just walks into the kitchen. He studies my crazy-town wall of evidence and thoughts and white boards. He studies everything, finally turning to look at me.

“You have been busy,” he says.

“I, uh…” I look at everything and cringe. “It’s how I think, sometimes? I just need to write everything out, see it all together. And I’m supposed to be on a leave of absence, but I can’t just stop working on the case, so…”

Suddenly, he’s there. His arms are around me. His lips are on mine.

“This bond,” he says between kisses that I feel to my toes. “It’s permanent. It’s forever.”

“I know,” I say, breathless.

“I do not give the offer to just anyone, Amy.”

“I know,” I say again, a little dumbstruck by the kissing.

“And if, someday, you allow me to bring you to immortality,” he says, kissing along my jawline, “then we will live as a bonded pair. This is forever.”

“I trust you,” is all I can think to say.

He’s gone and back before I can blink. He holds a small knife in his hands. With it, he cuts a cross into his palm and places it on the bare skin of my chest.

“Hoc vinculum gratias gratis,” he says. “I give this bond freely.”

He cuts my hand and places it on his chest. I repeat the words. My magic responds, as a warmth spreads from my chest to my shoulders, up my neck, down into my core. A small tattoo forms on my right ring finger, or more like a scar. The same thing appears on Vincent’s finger, as well.

“That’s it?” I ask as I examine the tiny, intricate marking on my finger. “Just one line?”

“Our blood and words merge,” he says. “It is the intent that makes the bond. And the consummation.”

At the word “consummation,” I look up sharply. Vincent’s eyes are black with hunger, his fangs already extended.

There is no space between us, then. My bare breasts are taut against his hard chest. My hands are on his biceps. Our mouths are hot as we fuse together, two becoming one.

He picks me up, carrying me to the bedroom. I can’t get my pants off fast enough. There is no foreplay, no slow buildup. He is inside me as soon as we are both naked, his teeth in my neck as he draws blood from my body.

The bond is so strong. I have always felt connected to Vincent, but this is different. It is like I can feel every molecule in his body, every elecgtric jolt of pleasure, and pain, and anger, and desire. It’s another dimension, and I get lost in it.

I get lost.