The street fair continued to buzz with the energy of people drunk on craft beer and artists making more cash than they would all year. Plastic white booths lined the entire lawn of Pack Square Park, filled with handmade crafts such as woodwork, jewelry, quilts, and anything else you could sell for an exorbitant amount of money. Tessa’s table, a round stool with a purple, velvet cloth and a glass paperweight that mimicked a crystal ball, was tucked well away from the main thoroughfare, but she’d had a steady amount of clients since arriving that morning. They knew she would come every October as the leaves changed and the air grew crisp. They came, nervous and full of questions about the future. She had no real answers for them, but she could sound convincing with the tumble of thoughts always pouring from their minds, a relentless current that pummeled her if she wasn’t careful.

Her lower back ached from sitting so long, and her flask of bourbon had long run dry. It was about time to call it a day. She’d told at least ten widows their husbands loved them and wanted them to be happy. All she had to do was listen for the lament that played like a scratched record in their thoughts. Once a widow heard her husband’s name pass Tessa’s lips, they tended not to question her anymore. She overcharged several drunk jackasses and claimed to see a vision of their adultery. Their insecurity lay just beneath the surface, and she could usually string together two convincing names from their anxious thoughts. She’d also had a handful of giggling teenagers, an old man who’d simply hit on her, and a little boy who wanted to know if his dog would come back. She’d made several hundred dollars. The festival ran three Saturdays in a row. She’d stay one more before moving on. She hadn’t quite settled on where she wanted to go next. She was leaning towards Texas. She didn’t like snow much, and winter was already making an appearance in the early morning as frost clung to the grass and trees.

Tessa moved to take down her small sign, which simply read Psychic. She did not display her name, her contact information, or her fee. She preferred anonymity and flexibility. For the old widows she only charged twenty dollars. For the drunkards, forty. For the fervent believers of the occult, a hundred bucks or more. They were crazy. Tessa might be able to read minds, but these assholes believed in witchcraft and shapeshifting and vampires.

When she turned back to the table, a man sat across from her. She jumped, startled.

“Shit, you scared me,” she said.

The man now sitting across from her smirked. “You don’t sound much like a psychic,” he said. His voice was low, and there was the tiniest bit of grit to it that she liked. He had chestnut brown hair that was cut short to accent a sexy widow’s peak. His skin was ghostly pale and his eyes were a piercing emerald green that sent a tingling sensation across her skin as they raked over her. Even in the dim light, she could see the flecks of gold near his pupils. He looked delicious. Tessa sized him up and decided it had been a while since she’d indulged in a passing tryst.

“You think you know all about psychics?” she countered, and sat down, offering a mischievous smile that was borderline flirtatious.

His thin pink lips curved slightly in amusement. His thoughts flirted with attraction, but she felt the weight of his condescension. He thought she was silly. She was going to overcharge his handsome ass.

“Enough,” he said. He reached for his wallet, pulled out a hundred-dollar bill, and put it on the table in front of her, raising an eyebrow as if in challenge. That challenge echoed in his thoughts.

“Two hundred,” she countered, sitting back and crossing her arms. Another hundred-dollar bill appeared.

“Thank you,” she said with a sly smile as she palmed the bills. “What’s your name?”

“Kristian,” he said.

“Alright, Kris,” she said. He flinched at the informal nickname. Tessa bit back a smile at ruffling his posh feathers. “Let’s do this.”

She put both of her palms down on the table on either side of her fake crystal ball and closed her eyes. She waited for his thoughts to unravel, loosening like a knot in a cord. When she first met someone, she was often slapped with a barrage of thoughts, visions, and feelings all at once, no form to be had. The more she got to know someone the more she could read, until eventually she could hear every tiny thought that passed between their ears. She hadn’t been close enough to someone for years for that to be the case. And as far as her business went, if she let people sit in silence long enough, their thoughts would align themselves into some semblance of readable order.

“You don’t need to ask me any questions first?” he said, surprise creeping into his gravelly voice.

“Shh.” She hushed him and continued to listen, suppressing a smile when she could feel his mild confusion. Most psychics would play mind games, asking leading questions in order to cold read. She combed through vague feelings and a few random thoughts she couldn’t pull enough context from to be of use. She waited. He grew impatient. He crossed his arms over his chest in the peripherals of her vision. Then, like finding the missing puzzle piece, she put together something that could be useful.

“I’m getting something,” she said. His arms loosened. “I’m picking up on a…Veronica. You’re close to her. You feel protective of her. You’re worried about her. You fear they are coming.”

Before a breath had passed, he’d grabbed her wrist so violently she cried out.

“The hell!” she cursed.

He yanked her towards him, toppling the stool between them. The fake crystal ball toppled to the floor with a crack. “Who are you?” he hissed.

“Jesus,” she said, breathless with pain. It felt like he might snap her wrist. “Let go of me, asshole.”

He didn’t. His eyes bored into her with such vicious, unveiled hatred she almost withered. But fuck this guy. She took a deep breath through the pain and brought the heel of her other hand up, intent on breaking his nose. She’d lived on the streets long enough to learn self-defense. He caught her other wrist easily, and suddenly her back was against the brick wall. His enormous hand closed around her throat, and her feet dangled an inch above the ground. Her vision blurred, ears ringing.

“Who are you?” he repeated, the grit in his voice no longer sexy. It sent a terrifying chill through her.

She couldn’t breathe, much less answer him. Fear gripped her, and she could not tell if it was her own or his. He glared at her. The golden flecks burned like a flame. It was the last thing she saw.

---

Tessa opened her eyes and groaned as a sharp throbbing reached her temples. She blinked a few times, her vision tilting. She sat up slowly. She found herself on a leather sectional in front of a blazing fire. Tessa peered around the penthouse studio, taking in the windows hidden behind heavy drapes and the wood door that looked as though it had been taken straight off a castle. She could see the end of a claw foot tub peeking out from behind a silk screen that could have been an ancient Chinese artifact. Artwork warmed otherwise white walls and cold, hard lines created by concrete and granite.

She could get out of here. She had escaped before. The door would be easiest, but she’d settle for crawling out a window if she could.

Her attacker sat on the other side of the couch, watching her with an intense gaze. His tall, lean physique looked at ease.

“You fucking kidnapped me?” she said, flinching as her head responded to her own raised voice with a piercing pain. “Dick move, man.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” he said casually, apparently unimpressed with her vulgarity.

“What’s it to you?” she asked, glaring at her assailant

“Why didn’t you fight back?” he asked, standing and approaching her with a graceful, controlled movement that surprised her. He was tall. Tall men often appeared gangly, but there was a grace to him despite his size.

“I tried,” she said. “And I will again if you get any closer.”

“You’re just human, aren’t you?” he said, eyes suddenly thoughtful.

She gaped at him. Shit.

“Jesus Christ,” she said. “I didn’t take you for one of the crazies. My mistake. Look, I’m not a real psychic.”

“If you aren’t a psychic,” he leaned forward, “then how can you explain what you told me?”

Tessa chewed her lip. He was one of them, one of the damned crazies that believed in the impossible. What would he do to her if she told him what she could do? He’d already gone through the trouble of kidnapping her for fuck all reason.

Finally, Tessa shrugged. “It was a shot in the dark, man.”

Kristian’s eyes narrowed, green eyes going dark. He wasn’t having it.

“You mean to tell me you plucked the name Veronica out nowhere? That it wasn’t already whispered in your ear?”

Tessa threw her hands up in the air. Frustration boiled inside of her. “Sure, man. Just...just let me go.”

He ignored her request to stay away from her. Suddenly, he was sitting next to her and reaching a gentle hand out to brush the bruise quickly forming on her neck.

“Don’t touch me,” she growled, and moved away.

Her wrist was in his hand before she could register that he moved at all. He yanked her close to him, his green eyes boring into hers. She could catch words racing through his mind.

Witches.

Calder.

“Dude, I didn’t sign up to deal with witches.”

“Excuse me?” Kristian jerked back. Realization dawned on his face, eyes opening wide. “I’ve never met a human who could…” He trailed off, his thoughts revealing more than he probably intended. Like the fact, he didn’t believe he was human.

“You aren’t...human? If you’re not human, what are you?” she asked, skeptical. This guy could believe whatever he wanted. He just needed to leave her the hell alone. Tessa eyed the door on the other side of Kristian. If she ran to it, would it be locked?

He cocked his head, as if considering whether or not to indulge her request. This annoyed her. She needed to distract him. If she could feed his fantasy, maybe it would give her enough time to run for it.

“The undead,” he said, that smug smirk she’d seen before replaying across his features.

“Zombie?” she scoffed. Tessa prayed this guy didn’t have a collection of brains in his fridge.

“Vampire,” he corrected.

“Right,” she said, and gingerly stood up. She didn’t feel dizzy anymore. It was time to get the hell out of here. Tessa stepped on the coffee table, launching herself toward the door. It was almost within reach. Elation filled her.

Later, crazy.

She reached for the door knob. She didn’t even blink and suddenly, he was in front of her.

“I cannot let you leave,” he said, almost apologetically, but not quite. He was curious. He was eager. He was attracted. He was still condescending. But of all things, he wasn’t sorry.

Fear rose in her chest again. “What do you want?” she asked, wary of tipping the crazy too far.

“You don’t believe in vampires?” he asked, chuckling. She expected his laugh to be deranged, but it was a pleasant sound. “You literally read minds, but you don’t believe in vampires?”

“I consider my…ability…an evolution of the human brain. It was bound to happen at some point. We can only access, what, four percent of our brains? But vampires are…vampires,” she said. She backed away from him slowly. She wondered if the best tactic was to feed into his delusion or call him on it.

“If you’re a vampire, prove it,” she said. If this went poorly, she had a knife tucked into her boot at least.

He met her fierce gaze with an unsuppressed amusement.

“Move in front of the fire. Back to the flames, please,” he instructed.

“Are you going to push me in?” she asked, not moving.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Indulge me.”

She huffed, annoyed, but did as he asked.

“Observe,” he said, pointing to her shadow as it danced and flickered over the area rug.

“So? What’s your point, Peter Pan?” she said, crossing her arms. He came to stand next to her. She edged away as he approached. He took her place in front of the fire. No shadow appeared. She sucked in a breath. “Jesus Christ.”

“Not exactly,” he said, smug and satisfied. “I would show you my fangs, but it would put me in a hunting mood, and you are a temptation I do not wish to indulge in.”

She eyed him suspiciously as she digested the information. He was right. She could read minds, and although she’d assigned this ability to a freak glitch in DNA, something inside of her easily accepted the supernatural alternative. It strangely made her feel better, less isolated.

“Right,” she said, sitting back down on the couch. “Well, are you going to kill me?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head and offering a seductive smile. “It has been years since I killed. With financial means…anything can be bought on the black market. It has a bitter taste, but it is preferable to living in the shadows to avoid persecution and death. Humans are quite upset when their own get killed. Besides, humans aren’t the only ones who have evolved. Killing is a pointless, animalistic pastime. We have long outgrown its necessity.”

His thoughts reflected his words as truth.

“Fine,” she said. “So can I leave?”

“Afraid not,” he shook his head. “You are either a gift or a threat, one that I have yet to figure out. If the Calder sent you to read our minds, to report to them on our intended movements, then I cannot let you run back to them. If you aren’t...then you are too rare for me to release back into the world, yet.”

Tessa swallowed hard. She’d been running for a long time. It had finally caught up to her, even if this wasn’t what she expected.

“You have no more questions?” he asked. He still stood in front of the fire, regarding her as if he were truly seeing her for the first time. His eyes lingered on her short, muscular legs and her narrow torso. She was wearing skinny jeans, a tank top, and a gypsyesque pashmina. His assessment continued, traveling over her breasts and finally landing on her olive face, dark coffee eyes, and thick black hair, braided intricately and hanging nearly to her waist. She let him look. She couldn’t help but like the hunger in his eyes. She often had men stare, but never quite like that.

He’s a… what? A vampire? She reminded herself. She glanced back to where his shadow could be, barely believing it. It could be a trick of light, mirrors placed somewhere within the studio. Or, he could be telling the truth. She didn’t particularly want to stay to find out.

“While I demand that you stay here, I promises that I will treat you as a guest until you decide to cross me. Consider yourself warned, if you do in fact work for the Calder.”

She considered it. She normally camped just outside the city. She had an old hatchback that carried the teardrop trailer she’d purchased a few years ago. But she hadn’t had a proper shower in weeks, and she couldn’t even remember the last time she’d slept in a real bed.

“Why do you want me to stay?” she asked.

“You fascinate me,” he said, and took a step closer to her. His eyes devoured her. His thoughts did too. She felt drawn to him in a strangely kinetic way. And he felt it too, even if he thought that she was the enemy. His thoughts tickled her skin each time he lost track of his accusations.

“Here’s what’s going to happen, Dracula,” she said, jabbing her pointer finger into his chest to push him back. “I need a place to stay, and you kidnapped me. So, I’m going to stay the night. I’m going to start by taking a bath.” She pointed to the claw foot tub. “And you are either going to order or cook dinner. Then…we can get to know each other a little better.”

He grinned, and she thought her chest might crack from the pressure of her heart’s increasing rhythm. Damn him for being so beautiful.

---

She lingered in the bath longer than she intended, but the salts she’d found sitting on the edge of the tub created a tingling on her skin that felt glorious, and being so immersed in hot water tempted the soul to drown. But when her stomach growled loudly, she finally relented and stepped out of the tub. She dressed again, leaving the pashmina draped over the screen, and stepped out barefoot in her jeans and tank top.

She had a moment to peer at the door longingly again. What had happened to her booth? Had her trailer been towed yet? He appeared by her side immediately and offered her a glass of red wine.

“Thank you,” she said, and made her way to the table. He’d cooked for her while she bathed. He’d barely made a noise in the kitchen as he did so, but she smelled the bacon and her stomach rumbled in response. She sat down in front of a beautiful display of eggs benedict, asparagus, and fresh fruit.

“Do you eat human food?” she asked, picking up a fork.

“I do not,” he replied, watching her intently as she took her first bite. She refrained from moaning in pleasure. The thick cut bacon was sweet and peppery all at once. She did not want to offer him the satisfaction. “It has no taste for me.”

“And yet you cook?” she said, taking another large bite. She hadn’t eaten all day.

“I do. I like finding ways to occupy my time.” He moved to sit down next to her.

She nodded and took a sip of her wine.

“You still have not told me your name,” he reminded her.

She chewed on her lip. It might have been the wine. Or it could have been the long soak in the bath salts that addled her brain, but she found herself speaking. “Tessa Burch.”

She could have sworn she saw him mouth her name, his lips parting for a split second.

“Where, may I ask, are you from?” he asked. Even sitting next to her, his body was aimed toward her as if he could not pull away. His knee touched the outside of her thigh and sent a different tingling sensation over her skin.

“California originally,” she said. “But I left when I was sixteen. Been traveling ever since.”

“Sixteen? That is young these days. How old are you now?”

“Twenty-five,” she said, observing his reaction in her peripheral vision. But he did not react, he just continued to stare at her intently.

“When did your powers manifest?” he asked. She noticed how still his hands were, resting in his lap. He did not fidget. He was like a statue, a very chiseled, beautiful statue.

“As a girl. I didn’t know what was happening,” she explained, weighing how much she wanted to share. “I told my parents and they had me committed.”

He frowned sympathetically. She hated sympathy. It had been written across her parents faces every time they visited her. It had been in the eyes of the nurses that escorted her to therapy.

“How old are you?” she countered, shifting the focus away from her. She was done talking about herself.

“Almost two hundred,” he said. Tessa wasn’t prepared for the thoughts that came spilling from his mind. Images of a world she didn’t recognize assaulted her. Women wore long dresses, horse drawn carts fought for space on the road amongst the bulky cars.

She gave a low whistle. What the hell was that?

“And what happened after you were committed?” he asked, returning the focus to her.

She shifted uncomfortably. “My parents were in a car accident somewhere out of state. I became a ward of the state. I knew that I was fucked if I didn’t get my shit together so I pretended to get better. They released me into the foster system. I ran away at sixteen,” she said, her words matter of fact so that he couldn’t hear the bitter loneliness that filled her. “And that wraps up my tragic little story.”

He caught her hand. Without adrenaline coursing through her, she noticed that his hands felt as if they were formed from marble, very cold marble. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it softly, not on the top of her hand but on her palm. She felt the slightest prick of pain, but it vanished before she could think more of it.

“I’m very sorry,” he said.

Pity she could not handle, but seduction was familiar territory. He let go of her hand. She cleared her throat, attempting to regain control of her rapid heart. He smiled, smug as ever.

“Are you finished?” he asked.

She nodded and finished the last of her wine. “It was delicious, thank you,” she said, and attempted to take her plate to the kitchen. He put a hand out to stop her.

“It’s fine,” he said. “Leave it. Would you like more wine?”

She accepted a second glass and without asking permission, made her way to the couch. She could throw the glass and run to the door. But he’d been faster last time.

“How does one become a vampire?” she asked, tucking herself into the corner of the sectional. He sat on the opposite end of the couch, but his body still pointed toward her like he was a compass and she was due north.

He cocked his head in amusement. Beneath the surface, his thoughts bled pain and regret. His feelings were becoming more distinct to her, his mind unravelling for her more and more with each passing moment. Normally that would take months. And she did not plan on knowing this man, this vampire, for months, a fact she strangely regretted. This would be one hell of a night, and then she would be gone. That was what she did. That was who she was. It was too hard to know everything. Too painful.

“I met a woman. I was easily seduced. She kept me in her bed as a human for several months. She grew attached to me, like a pet. There were others. When she grew tired of them, she killed them. Knowing this would be my own fate, I fashioned a rudimentary stake with plans to kill her in her sleep. She grew tired of me more quickly than I anticipated and bit me after a hunt that proved unsatisfactory. I killed her before she could kill me, but it was too late,” he said. His face grew darker for a moment, but then he shook his head and added, “It is a rather painful transformation.”

She could feel in his thoughts, despite his detached presentation of the story, that he had loved this woman.

“Have you turned others?” she asked.

His green eyes flashed tumultuously. “My sister.”

“Veronica?” Tessa guessed.

He gave a curt nod.

“Who is after her?” she asked, sipping at her wine. She was almost finished with her second glass. She felt contentedly warm, and the desire for the creature before grew as her inhibitions lowered.

His perfect lips pressed together. She’d reached her twenty questions limit. She put her wine glass down and stood up. He watched her warily. She produced a sly smile and snaked her way towards him until she stood above him.

“I won’t tell anyone your secrets if you won’t tell anyone mine,” she said, sincerity sneaking into her words.

She caught glimpses of images, his lips upon hers, his hands ripping away her clothing. Her face warmed and not just from the wine. Her nipples hardened when she caught an image of his mouth upon them, sucking gently. She could no longer tell if what she felt was by her own choice. There was a sudden urge in her to run her fingers through his earth-toned hair.

She stood abruptly, wine sloshing from her glass.

The images stopped hailing her and Kristian had the decency to look ashamed. Well, as ashamed as a vampire could look. Tessa needed to put space between them. He had kidnapped her, for Christs sake. The wetness that she felt, the weakness in her knees, was absurd. Most of all, she hated how readily her body had reacted for him. She moved around the couch.

“I... apologize,” Kristian said, suddenly stiff. “I forget what kind of company I am in. Please, take the bed for tonight.”

---

Tessa woke in the night. No thoughts hummed in the air. Kristian was asleep or gone. She gently pushed back the blankets and lowered her feet to the ground. This was her moment if ever there were one. She could be free of him once and for all.

Once she slipped her boots onto her feet, she crept toward the door. The lock would not budge beneath her hands, no matter how she pressed. Frustrated, she ground her teeth and moved on to a nearby window. Pushing back the heavy curtain, Tessa could see the shingle covered roof outside. They were still somewhere in the city, she decided as she looked out at a familiar skyline.

She reached over her head, turning the lock. It clicked into place, echoing softly in the studio. She cringed, waiting for Kristian to wake. When no angry vampire came storming in her direction, she turned back to the window. With some effort, it slid up and she was greeted by a breeze.

Freedom was only a step away.

She hoisted herself out the window with minimal effort. Peering over the edge of the roof, she found that it was only a story’s drop to the ground. Bile rose in the back of her throat. She could jump, right? Tessa glanced back through the window and a tinge of regret sparked through her.

She shook her head.

What am I thinking? She cringed. She wouldn’t be a part of whatever messed up plot he was stuck in. No. Thank. You.

She jumped. She’d done it before, sneaking out of her foster parent’s home. It wasn’t like riding a bicycle. Tessa landed hard on her feet and tumbled forward into an awkward roll. Pain jolted up her spine. Her ankle throbbed. She tried to put her weight on it, but it barked in protest.

---

Tessa made her way through the city streets, hobbling on her swollen ankle. It had been worth it, she thought. The pain was a low price to pay for freedom. She stopped at the nearest glowing gas station and begged to use their phone. The man behind the counter couldn’t comprehend why she didn’t have her own cell phone. Tessa cursed the day they did away with payphones.

Still, after much bickering, the man gave in, dialed the number for a cab service, and handed her the phone. The cabbie spoke with a voice that said she’d probably had a cigarette hanging between her lips at that moment. She did not disappoint when she arrived outside the gas station, the cigarette bobbing as she called out Tessa’s name.

It was a quiet ride over, but Tessa was grateful for the bills that Kristian had laid on her table before he kidnapped her. Oh, her table. She thought of the wrecked booth that had been left behind. It didn’t mean as much as her car, as her trailer. Even as she regretted leaving it, she knew that she could find another in a thrift store somewhere else.

Tessa paid the woman with one of Kristian’s crisp bills before the car turned around and left her alone in the dark. Tessa resisted the urge to reach down for the knife in her boot. Her nerves must still be on edge from earlier. It had been a long, confusing day.

The crackle of a fire caught Tessa’s attention. She slowly stepped forward, listening for thoughts in the air. Everything was quiet. As she rounded a large SUV, she could see the dancing light casting shadows around the parking lot. Her stomach plummeted.

Fire licked up the sides of her teardrop trailer. It burst through the tiny windows and climbed toward the roof. A scream of anguish was caught in her throat. She slapped her hand over her mouth. Black circles covered dents in her car as if someone had thrown explosives at it. The windows were completely smashed, glass on the pavement glittering in the firelight. The seats of her car were charred, parts of them still burning.

Hands grabbed her arms. She jerked back into a hard wall. Panic flooded her and she struggled against the immovable grasp until familiar thoughts floated to her. Guilt and sorrow greeted her in Kristian’s voice.

“We should be leaving now,” he said, his hand sliding down her arm to tangle with her fingers.

Numb, Tessa followed him.

Her trailer, her freedom. It was gone. Someone had burnt set it ablaze and left it to burn down to nothing. Anger sparked somewhere inside her. It set fire to the numbness, chasing it into the shadows. Had it been a group of rowdy boys? Or had someone tracked her and destroyed her only means of travel?

---

When she woke, she did not open her eyes immediately. Her ear was pressed against his chest, but she realized she could not hear a heartbeat. It sent a shiver down her spine but not of fear. She knew that she lay on a powerful creature, and it made her feel safe after what happened.

When she was a girl, she’d felt a similar sense of power in herself. But the more her powers grew and the more she learned of the thoughts of those around her, the more that power had been warped into something ugly. She’d become jaded, distrustful, and bitter. People, as it turned out, were terrible beings. But she’d stumbled upon an entire world of other powerful entities. Kristian and his sister certainly couldn’t be the only ones. She now saw the potential for more than a cursed life, running away from the iniquities of people. She could seek answers she hadn’t even known to seek.

“You’re awake,” Kristian observed. He fiddled with her hair as he stared at the ceiling. The feeling was bliss.

“What time is it?” she asked. The sun dappled the foot of the bed, and she could hear the faintest sounds of the street below.

“Later than I would like,” he said. “But I wanted to see to it that you to get sleep.”

She didn’t move to get up. She felt strangely content in the arms of a vampire.

Tessa’s brows furrowed. “How did you find me last night?”

A thought mixed with guilt and a dash of righteousness greeted her. Kristian ran a hand through his rumpled hair and Tessa was surprised with how much it made her want to reach up to touch him.

“I may have...tasted a touch of your blood after dinner yesterday.”

“That prick I felt!” Tessa leaned away from Kristian’s body. She had shrugged it off. Nothing more than an angry nerve after the day she’d had.

“I wanted to create a bond in case you tried doing what you did last night. It helped me track you down and I’m grateful that I did considering what happened to your trailer. I’m afraid that was not the act of delinquents.”

Tessa’s indignation flared and died.

Suddenly, the front door of his apartment burst open as a woman entered, her expression intense and urgent. She had long, woody colored hair similar to Kristian, free save for two small braids that pulled the hair back from her long face. Defined cheekbones sat beneath the same emerald-colored eyes framed by long eyelashes and sculpted brows. She wore an immaculate white jacket, leather boots, and dark jeans that accentuated her long legs and slender form. She had a bag swung over her shoulder and her phone in hand.

“Kristian, they are coming,” she said. “We need to leave. Now.”

Kristian reluctantly moved out from under Tessa with gentle control, but once free of her, he packed so quickly her human eyes could not follow his progress, only the disappearing of clothes off the floor. They knew that this time was coming, but shut in the solitude of his apartment, they had been able to ignore it.

“When?” he asked, voice tight. Tessa could discern only panic in his thoughts, memories of her trailer the night before.

“Veronica, I presume?” Tessa pulled herself from the bed, stretching aching limbs.

Veronica’s eyes locked onto Tessa for a moment. She had the feeling of being an ant beneath a magnifying glass before Veronica pulled her glare away.

“We have less than a day,” she said. “Ally has been trailing them. She said they boarded a plane from Paris to Asheville. She believes their flight arrives tomorrow.”

Veronica’s eyes flickered to Tessa again, who now felt pulled in whatever direction Kristian might be going. Kristian had already moved on to packing a duffle bag. She made no comment.

“Have you—” he started, but she raised a hand to cut him off.

“I have booked two tickets for New York,” she said. “We can figure out where to go from there.”

Kristian finally paused. He looked at Tessa. Tessa looked back.

“There’s someone after you. They intend to kill you,” Tessa read as his thoughts unraveled for her. “Was that who trashed my trailer?”

“You told her?” Veronica seethed. “What if she was working for the witches? Do you care nothing for your safety? For mine?”

“I do not believe Tessa to be the enemy. Even so, we cannot risk losing such a tool. She can read minds,” Kristian said.

“Hello? I’m sitting right here,” Tessa snapped.

Veronica’s eyes went wide. “We have not seen those powers since…” She stopped herself and gave Kristian a meaningful look. Tessa felt the tiniest flicker of jealousy from Veronica’s thoughts before she said, “Then we must take her with us.”

Tessa looked to Kristian. He looked relieved with his sister’s assessment of the situation.

“Look, I—” Tessa started, but Kristian interrupted. He was suddenly standing before her, her hand in his. He lifted it to his lips, but at the last moment he pulled her into him and their lips met. She returned the kiss despite her confusion.

“Come with us,” he said. “We need your ability, but more than that, I want you to.”

She produced a choked, nervous laugh. “Why?”

“Our kind used to have such powers available to them, but we lost all those with abilities in the slaughter. If you become one of us, you can create more like you,” Veronica said, navigating her phone. “I’m booking you a ticket.”

“Woah, become one of you?” Tessa said, panic edging her voice.

“Listen,” Kristian said, gripping her arms earnestly. “I will explain everything in time. And no matter what, you will have a choice. But we are in danger here, and we must leave immediately. Please come with us.”

Tessa hesitated only a moment. She didn’t want to feel cursed anymore. She wanted answers, and these two could give them to her. The feeling of his lips still lingered on hers.

What had she gotten herself into? Become a vampire? Kristian said that it was her choice, but Veronica clearly wanted Tessa’s ability to be passed on. Could it even pass on to another vampire? Or was she one freak in a million?

“I already booked your ticket,” Veronica said. “Now, let’s go.”

---

Kristian and Veronica were quiet for most of the trip to the airport. The sleek black sedan that had pulled up outside the apartment was some luxury European make that Tessa couldn’t name. The butter colored leather was cool and smooth beneath her touch as she slid into the passenger seat. It occurred to her she was surrounded, and that in this small space there would have been little chance of her getting away. Kristian kept his eyes on the road, his face completely void of any expression. She caught the wave of his thoughts and followed them easily. Every now and then one of Veronica’s loud thoughts would jar her from the wave. Irritated, Tessa turned and stared at her.

“Really, if you have so many questions, why don’t you ask me?” Tessa snapped.

Veronica crossed her arms. She was really a lovely woman, but the hardness of her expression made her cold. She was not, however, totally unfeeling. The worry Veronica had for her brother proved it.

“I just keep thinking that this timing is damned convenient,” Veronica replied. “I usually agree with my brother’s sense of intuition, but I can’t help but wonder. It seems more than serendipitous you should run into us now.”

“Veronica,” Kristian growled. “Don’t start.”

“No, let her ask whatever she wants,” Tessa said. “Once she’s got an answer, I don’t have to hear the same thing circling around in her head. Kristian happened upon me by accident. I was minding my own business. I don’t live in this town. I was only passing through so I could work at the street faire. It was him interfering in my life that got my car and trailer trashed. I can assure you I’m not involved with these people who are hunting you. I assume that’s who the Calder are?”

Veronica sat straighter in her seat.

“I told you, sister,” Kristian said quietly.

“The Calder are a very ancient group of witches. I’m not talking fluffy pagans. These are a different race, even if they look human. For centuries, they’ve hunted us. I suppose you could call them our apex predator. They are to us what we once were to humans.”

“Why did your kind stop killing humans?” Tessa asked, her train of thought derailing.

“I wouldn’t say our kind has stopped completely,” Veronica said with a grin. “Other than it being barbaric, it’s not as easy as it used to be to cover up multiple murders. Not with everyone carrying a portable camera in their cell phone. I won’t say we don’t enjoy a small taste now and then. Just a bite and a few drops of blood from a human can create a somewhat strong bond. And it’s pleasurable to both parties. But ripping someone’s throat out and just drinking them whole? Not very likely. It can be a dangerous pursuit these days. Certain diseases can be passed from humans to vampires, which is another reason most of us depend upon clean blood banks.”

“Vampires can catch diseases?”

“Blood diseases, yes,” she replied. “They won’t kill us, but they could make immortality unpleasant.”

Tessa glanced at Kristian. “You didn’t even have me checked before you nipped me.”

If he were human, Tessa was sure he would have blushed. Instead his brows knitted together. He pursed his lips. “Most humans would not have remembered,” he said quietly.

“Well, since we have already established I am a freak among humans…” Tessa said.

“You really are, aren’t you?” Veronica laughed. It was almost musical the way she laughed, a cold trill too perfect to be human.

“So, you thought the Calder sent me?” Tessa asked.

“They have been known to plant their people in places one wouldn’t expect them,” Kristian said. Veronica nodded in agreement. “An attractive woman with the power to read minds could be a powerful tool for tracking us across the country.”

“I guess that explains why you kidnapped me and all.”

“I again apologize for that,” Kristian said.

---

The flight itself took three hours, but they spent another couple of hours in the airport changing flights to throw the witches off their trail. By the time, they touched down in Los Angeles, Tessa was exhausted. She’d only slept a handful of hours after her escape attempt, and not much the night before that. Tessa suffered from insomnia on a regular basis. You could imagine how difficult it might be to sleep while bombarded by the thoughts of a city. Even though she learned to reduce the stream of transient thoughts into a sort of white noise buzz when she needed to, there were always her dreams. Dark memories were transformed into monstrous images at night, haunting her each time she lay her head down at night.

In those few hours after Kristian had found her in the parking lot, she had slept well. She couldn’t figure out what it was that set her at ease. She should have ignored the feeling, knowing that he was a dangerous creature that had kidnapped her, but she didn’t want to. Was it the way he touched her? Or was it his mere presence? She was looking forward to testing her theory further.

After the flight, the drive out to Kristian’s home was another long slog—two hours in heavy traffic. They arrived at the beach house just before sunrise.

“Can you travel in the daylight?” Tessa asked nervously as they entered the house.

“We can, with the help of some very expensive drugs,” he replied coolly. “Otherwise, no.”

“We made sure to take our dosages before we left,” Veronica replied sarcastically. “Couldn’t risk blowing up in balls of flame in case the plane was delayed.”

Tessa stared at Veronica. It wasn’t often she found someone nearly as sarcastic as she was. Of course when she did it would have to be the baby sister of her undead kidnapper. This was going to be fucking interesting.

Kristian took Tessa’s hand, pulling her across the threshold and into the house. He wanted to separate the two of them. He didn’t know if his sister trusted Tess, yet. Veronica disappeared somewhere—literally—she was gone before Tessa could even see which direction he went.

“There are six bedrooms in this house,” Kristian said quietly. “I keep my private suite in the basement, while Veronica keeps her rooms on the main floor. The second floor holds the guest rooms.”

“Do you have many guests?” Tessa asked.

“Occasionally. We have friends who are scattered about, and sometimes we’re lucky enough to have a few of them visit. No one else is here right now.”

“And where will I sleep?” Tessa asked.

“Where would you like to sleep,” he asked. Images of her laying in his bed crept into her mind. She frowned and pushed them away, sure that they were his thoughts.

“I’d like to see the guest rooms.”

Tessa had seen houses like this in magazines, but never been inside of one. The ceilings were twenty feet high, with fans whirring softly above. The living room held a brick fireplace which took up an entire wall. The furniture was simple; a plush L-shaped corner group in dark red and chunky, matching leather chairs in black. The mahogany wood floors shined. She noticed an Oriental rug but only caught a glimpse of the colors in it.

“Let me guess,” Tessa said. “Veronica decorated this room.”

Kristian made a small, dismissive sound. Tessa realized with some amusement he’d sucked his teeth. “She has no idea about such things. I designed this house myself.”

Tessa thought about saying something snarky. The first thought that came to her mind was a vision of him watching HGTV and Food Network after the sun set. She pressed her lips together in a smile at her own joke. “It’s lovely,” she said.

Tessa smiled. She registered his pleasure from her small compliment. It made her happy to know this. With some horror, she wondered why his pleasure should mean so much. She usually didn’t care what anybody thought.

What’s happening to me?

Kristian led her up the staircase, opening into a landing framed by a floor to ceiling window that looked out over the crashing waves of the ocean. He walked up to pull the heavy drapes across the glass, his face apologetic as he turned. Down the hall, he opened the door to a room that was...so much more.

It was nearly a suite. The room itself was done up in shades of cream and gold, from the floor to the drapes, but the bed stood amidst it all, dark and heavy. The wrought iron frame was shaped into delicate swirls and whorls. Atop the mattress were soft, black and gold blankets.

Tessa wondered, for a split second, what Kristian would look like sprawled out atop those blankets. She shook her head, trying to get the image out. That was surely her own thought and she felt ashamed. She didn’t understand what was happening between them and was suddenly grateful that there would be an entire story between them as they slept.

---

“I have a question,” Tessa said.

She was wearing Kristian’s white dress shirt, with nothing beneath it. Her clothes were getting beyond wearable. Odd how she could feel so lady-like wearing a man’s clothes. She sat on a stool in his basement kitchen space, legs crossed. Neither of them had woken until late afternoon. According to her cell phone, it was just past two. The rooms in this space did not have windows. It gave her the feeling of time passing differently, or stranger yet, not existing at all.

She had wandered the house alone for a short while after she woke. For the first time in a long while, she suddenly found that she was lonely. Her heart lifted when Kristian came looking for her.

Once they were awake, the first thing he’d wanted to know was if she was hungry. He made her a grilled cheese sandwich and a bowl of tomato soup. She watched as he poured liquid from a black decanter into a black travel mug. He kept his back turned but she caught the smell of copper. Blood.

He sat down across from her and watched as she took a bite of the sandwich. He apparently understood the idea of comfort food. Sharp swiss was greeted by crisp, sweet apple slices. Experimentally, she dipped a triangle of sandwich into the soup and took a bite. The fresh basil bloomed through her mouth and she moaned in pleasure.

“What would you like to know?”

Tessa paused. What she really wanted to know was more about this woman, Serena. His maker. She asked something else instead.

“Is there some reason the Calder are after you and Veronica in particular? I mean, there have to be other vampires for them to occupy their time with, right?”

Kristian took a long sip from his mug and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. She didn’t see any blood but the idea of him drinking it like coffee made her slightly queasy.

“The Calder do have more interest in some than in others. My coven was once known to cause them trouble in the past, so they have a... vendetta against us.”

“Coven?”

“It’s what we call our families—the line of the vampires who sired us. My maker was part of a long line.”

Tessa nodded. He was still avoiding her name.

“Not just anyone goes up against them?”

“No, they don’t,” he agreed. “Most of my family is scattered. Some have fled to South America, or parts of Africa. When we heard, the Calder were on the move, we decided it was best not to take chances.”

I stirred my soup. “So. My safety with you is doubtful, but these predators who are after you…I am pretty sure they wouldn’t leave me alive either.”

“It’s in your best interest to help us,” Kristian replied. “And as far as your safety with me is concerned, it’s obvious I don’t want to hurt you.”

“And why is that? I mean, don’t get me wrong. I am enjoying…whatever it is going on between us. It’s good to not be the strangest person in the room for once. But I don’t know about laying down my life for something which has nothing to do with me.”

“You’re not exactly an ordinary human. Whatever you are, the Calder would see you as a threat as well. I can provide you protection. And you can provide us your ability to read them. Think about it this way, if you please. I found you by accident, and the odds of one of them finding you, out on the road alone, is just as great. How many people do you think you meet in a year while you roam the country telling fortunes? The energy you give off…I could see it long before I ever saw you. It was a miracle that they didn’t find you sooner, a miracle that I found you before they found your trailer. Had you been in it when they did, you would have perished in that fire, no one the wiser.”

“You can see my aura?” Tessa asked.

“Yes. And I am sure one of the Calder could too.”

“What’s it like?”

“The same as the auras of other humans,” he said carefully. “Only larger, enough to fill a room, where others have only enough to extend and inch or so from their bodies. Pale, and shimmery gray. I can protect you. And provide for you. Don’t you think you should be afforded a better life than living out of the back of a trailer?”

Tessa blushed. “I like living off the grid. Nothing is wrong with my life! I don’t have to answer to anyone and I like it that way.”

“I would understand what it is to be a nomad better than you know,” Kristian replied. “And I am not judging by any means. I just think you deserve more in life than that.”

“Would you mind coming out with me today? I’d like to show you something,” Tessa said.

---

Tessa remembered it well: 1224 Willmont Avenue. The house hadn’t changed in all these years, and she wasn’t sure if that pleased or unnerved her. The lawn was still neatly cut, with rosebushes out front in full bloom. Not only had Melissa Forrester loved those damned roses, but she loved being better than her neighbors, too. Both the cars were in the driveway, newer models, but still the midsize Japanese make that Tessa remembered.

Tessa and Kristian were parked across the street in his sleek European sedan. He listened as she spoke. It was a difficult story to tell. She was aware of his feelings. Sadness. Grief. The overwhelming desire to console.

“My parents died when I was eleven, shortly before my twelfth birthday. I had been in the institution for about a year, and I had these hopes that my parents would come get me out. Life would magically go back to normal when they signed me out of that hell hole. Up until then they visited me once a month. Whenever they came there was this hope in their eyes. As soon as I said anything about mind reading, or knowing how they really felt about me, it was like something inside them shut off. Their eyes went dark. I wasn’t really their daughter anymore. They’d tell me I was sick and needed to work on getting better, and when that happened, then they’d take me home and we’d have a big party. It was their nice little way of saying they didn’t intend to take me in until I stopped saying crazy shit to them about what was going on inside their heads. Even though they knew the things I told them were true. Just got the things they didn’t want to talk about, the things they both wanted to sweep under the rug. I knew all about Dad’s affair and Mom’s Jack Daniel’s habit. If I had lied, I would have never ended up there. But I was a kid, and it wrecked me to think that I was insane. That place was destroying the kid that I was.” She sighed.

“Well, you might be a touch crazy, but in the good way,” Kristian replied with a wink and a small grin.

“Touché,” Tessa said. “Anyway. I kept hoping they would see what the place was doing to me and change their minds. That never happened. When they told me my parents were gone, I realized I had to do better. Toe the line. Kiss up to the doctor and tell him anything he wanted to hear because no one was left to care whether I died in that place or not.”

“You said they died in a car accident?”

“Yes,” Tessa said. “Went off a bridge and into a lake. They were up in Seattle for some reason. I never found out why. Anyway. I convinced the doctor I was a good little girl and was never going to believe in such rubbish as mind reading again. It took a couple of months of lying through my teeth for him to believe it. They put me into the system. I was at a girl’s home for a couple of months, and that was lovely. Pretty much had to fight some chick every day. I wasn’t a fighter before, but I learned. And then I got placed with the Forresters,” she said, making a gesture towards the house. “And I won’t even go into the wonderful experience it was for me.”

Kristian tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. It seemed an oddly human motion. Most of the time, he was so controlled that if she hadn’t been able to read minds, she’d have no clue he felt anything. “When we were alone. I noticed some scars on your back. Is that how…”

“Yes,” Tessa said, closing the door in her mind just as she saw the flash of the belt.

“How long did you stay with these people?” he demanded. She felt a wave of his barely controlled anger.

“Until I was sixteen. I knew I needed to be able to work, and old enough to learn how to drive. With the right makeup I could make myself look eighteen. Sometimes I would take waitress gigs. I was working the tables when I realized that I would make a lot more as a fortune teller.”

Kristian looked out the window at the perfect house. “Why are we here?”

“I haven’t been back here since the day I left. I always wanted to come back. Just to let them see they didn’t destroy me.”

---

As they approached the door, Tessa smiled. She didn’t tell Kristian that she wanted him to come along as insurance, just in case either of the Forresters thought they might not take seeing her very well. Feeling the waves of anger flowing off him like heat off an oven, she wasn’t so sure it was a good idea. She could imagine him throwing punches and snapping necks. Or maybe just drinking his fill from their throats. It was a morbid thought but she couldn’t help taking some small joy from it. She walked up to the porch with Kristian at her heels.

She rang the doorbell and waited. There were no sounds coming from within. The neighborhood was oddly quiet.

“Tessa,” he whispered. “Let me.”

The door opened beneath his hand.

“Breaking and entering?” she asked, taking a look around. “I don’t want to get arrested.”

“The door was open,” he replied frostily.

The television in the front was on, but the volume was very low. A heavy lump formed in Tessa’s stomach. Mrs. Forrester was one of those people who never allowed anything electric to run unattended, much less the television set. A lump lodged in Tessa’s throat as Kristian went directly for the kitchen.

Tessa could see past him to a pair of shoes and the rumpled hem of a house dress.

She tried to push past him, but he stood firm. Pushing against him was like walking into a brick wall.

“You don’t want to see it.”

“I have the right to see,” Tessa demanded, pounding his back.

“Very well,” Kristian said, stepping aside. “I warned you.”

Melissa Forrester’s head had a blackened hole in her temple. The wall was sprayed with blood and pieces of Mrs. Forrester. Something had blown through the woman’s skull, charring everything on its way through. Tessa held a hand over her mouth as she felt her stomach churn.

Jim Forrester must have died coming to her aid. He lay crumpled a few feet away from her, his face gone entirely. There was blood and gore and some gray-white substance that she didn’t want to contemplate.

Kristian pushed her gently backwards, so that they were back in the living room.

The front door opened, and a woman stepped inside. She brushed back her short, burgundy streaked hair and looked at them with wide, dark eyes. Her black combat boots stomped towards them, the leather of her jacket completely silent. She looked completely at odds with the quaint kitchen.

“Well,” she said, addressing Kristian, throwing her hands in the air. “You beat me here. So much for needing my services.”

“Who are you?” Tessa spat.

“I could ask you the same thing, honey,” she said, narrowing her eyes.

“Tessa, this is Allison Harding. An old... friend of mine.”

“Call me Ally,” she replied caustically as she approached, flicking Tessa’s nose with the tip of her finger. “And let me guess, you must be the plaything of the month.”