Usually she’s less skittish around me. At least in recent days.

Shera is coming down the stairs, but she oddly pales when she sees me.

“What happened to front door?” I ask her.

I’ve never seen my beta run so fast.

“I’ll let Violet tell you about it,” she calls over her shoulder. “Gotta run, Boss.”

Again, I check the mirror.

Good hair.

Perfect teeth.

Excellent outfit.

Not a fucking clue what’s going on.

Typically, I enjoy instilling that sort of terror, but I’m still in trouble with Violet, and she doesn’t like her Sanctuary members feeling scared in their own home.

I work harder on giving a wider smile and aim for looking like a nice vampire alpha.

Literally, everyone scatters and disappears, aside from Bobo, who starts hammering away on the door, trembling just a little after jerking his gaze away from me.

My smile falls.

“You’re all scared little insects,” I call out very loudly, feeling mildly insulted.

I think a cricket chirps, and it’s the only sound I get in response.

Rolling my eyes, I head up the stairs to Violet’s room.

I pause in front of her office, because…what the actual fuck happened in here? Did someone have another tantrum? Was she hurt?

I shove the door open to her room…and pause when the potent stench of sex wreaks havoc on my sense of smell.

Damien is lying on Violet’s bed, and Violet is sprawled on top of him.

“You devious wanker!” I hiss. “You left us to deal with Idun’s bullshit all on our own so you could come make up with Violet while we were distracted?”

I put my hands on my hips, narrowing my eyes on him.

Why the hell didn’t I think of this? Is he really so pathetic that she just rolls over whenever he comes groveling? Why does she make it so much harder on me?

He doesn’t spare me much of a glance, as he runs a hand over her flawless pale skin, marred only by Emit’s mark, that has now healed into a scar of ownership. Her dark hair is wavier than usual, and it’s draping over one shoulder, as she sleeps peacefully on top of him.

“I’m still in trouble. She was rather adamant and clear about that,” he states with a barely-there smile.

But the smile vanishes from his face, as his eyes lift to meet mine.

“Idun called a meeting today,” he tells me.

“Yeah. I know. We finally got out of there, and I came to find out what stole you out of that torturous shite over three hours ago. Then I find you getting your rocks off with our girl. How is this fair?”

“Amos had an emergency House problem that needed his immediate attention yesterday, and only finished up today,” he says.

I frown. “What the hell does that have to do with the price of eggs? Did you bop your head? Is that why the door is jacked? What happened to Violet’s office?”

His eyes fog over with a white sheen that proves he’s barely staving off his monster. What the hell?

After his eyes settle back down, the control quickly returning to him, he gives me a look I know all too well.

“I’m tired of being five steps behind on a good day, and ten miles back on the bad days,” he continues, that gaze only worrying me more.

“Seriously, what have I missed?” I ask, actually expecting an answer this time.

He’s clearly distracted, the wheels of his mind turning as he plots something. That’s that that look is.

I’ve seen Damien be calculated and lethal throughout history. It’s never a good thing. Regardless of how calculated and lethal he is, he’s still no match for Idun.

“Anna, if Violet needs us, I want you to come find us immediately. Understood?” he asks, just as Anna pops her head through the wall.

How did he know she was there?

She grins.

“How long have you known I was there?” she asks him, echoing my own inner thoughts.

“I’m starting to wonder if you ever leave her side,” Damien answers without looking at her.

“Very rarely. She gets herself into too much trouble. She practically needs twenty-four hour surveillance. Good thing she has four boyfriends. Oh, wait, that’s right, you guys are—”

“Why are we listening to the ghost we said was nothing but trouble?” I ask him, very confused by this evening’s events.

I almost leap out of my skin—which is one hell of a feat to pull off around me—when a set of impossible triplets suddenly appear.

“What the fuck is going on around here?!” I demand, more than agitated by the fact I damn near shrieked like an omega. I’d never hear the end of it if I did something that ridiculous. “Why are dead ghosts suddenly popping up everywhere around here?”

“Violet saved Anna. Anna saved us,” the three of them state in unison.

“Was it the three of you who possessed Violet and made me feel like a dirty pervert in a Sunday morning sermon?” I growl.

They smile like they’re proud of themselves.

“I’m going to salt these bloody ghosts and send them back to that alleged third dimension—”

Damien is suddenly walking by me, pulling on his ripped shirt as he goes, pants hanging undone around his hips.

“Where the hell are you off to?” I ask, pointing a finger at the triplets. “This isn’t over. I will destroy you three.”

A dramatic shudder wracks my body, and they disappear from sight, as I hurry to steal a kiss from Sleeping Beauty.

I catch up to Damien, who is rather intensely focused, his eyes lost to thought, as he does his jeans up. He leaves his shirt hanging open, presumably because half the buttons are missing.

“Did Violet get excited or something? That’s really not fair. I could have left early and been the one to quell any needs she—”

He disappears for a brief moment, and I dart a look around, cursing when I see him already outside by the time he becomes visible again.

He’s gotten so much stronger, that I can’t even see through his illusions anymore. Which is…certainly frustrating.

I like that edge.

“Someone want to tell me what the hell is going on around here?” I ask the silent house.

Bobo continues to hammer away, not even acknowledging me, until he manages to free the broken door at last. He smiles at me again, lifts the door over his shoulder, and hurries out of the room with it.

“Nice. Real nice,” I gripe, as I hurry out the door.

I sniff the air, finally catching Damien’s scent. Why is he returning to the Van Helsing rings?

My steps slow when I see him stalking through the doors with deliberate, determined strides. Something’s amiss.

My phone rings, and I answer, absently glancing around for some sort of clue as to what’s happening.

“Yeah?” I ask distractedly, unsure who I’m even speaking to.

“Is Damien with you?” Vance asks me.

“I just followed him to the Van Helsing rings, but he seems a bit unlike himself. I’m not sure what’s going on right now.”

“Amos called and said Dorian issued a challenge to Damien over an hour ago,” Vance tells me.

“Dorian issues a challenge to Damien periodically. He always tries his best to provoke him. He hasn’t succeeded in centuries. Why is it suddenly important?”