“My darling Riley, we can't keep meeting like this,” whispered a soothing voice.

My eyelids fluttered. I could hear the gentle hum of an ancient tune followed by the sound of squeaking. The faint smell of sandalwood. Roses. Patchouli. Sweet and salty metal. When I opened my eyes, Draven came into view. A smile instantly spread across my lips.

“Mentor,” I whispered.

“You are such a basket case,” he teased.

His husky hands held a rat over a goblet and slit its throat with a small knife, blood immediately filling the cup as the rat seized. I grimaced.

“Well, if you won't drink human blood, this will have to do,” he said pointedly.

“This is disgusting,” I groaned.

“It's survival, missy,” he announced. “And I won't hear another word in repulse. Drink.”

He held out the goblet and I took it with shaky hands. It smelled just like human blood, but I knew it wasn't the same. As I sipped the viscous liquid, it quickly turned cold and I made an ugly face.

“You asked for it,” Draven accused.

“I did not,” I argued.

“By refusing to take your first bite, yes. You did,” he retorted.

I frowned at the red liquid in the goblet. It sat still as I analyzed it, watching my reflection waver in the cardinal pool. I took another sip.

“It's better than killing a person,” I stated.

“It's better than you dying,” he added.

“Still, I find it amazing that this even works,” I commented.

“It's great when you're in a pinch. I was lost out in the jungles of Brazil one long summer in 1887. I survived off the local animals, most of which never dared to attack me. It was difficult, but it kept me going,” he explained.

I sipped quietly while glancing around the room. Adrian was gone.

“And then I went to the Americas to look for human sport. They were sort of swarthy in the Southern parts. Very satisfying. Although I didn't quit understand this practice of checking the shadow of a groundhog in order to predict Spring,” he went on. “Humans are such strange creations, no?”

I chuckled politely and stared at the viscous liquid, watching my reflection.

If we can survive on animals, we have no excuse to kill humans, I thought cautiously. I'm willing to bet I could be the first vegan vampire. I laughed to myself at my new ludicrous definition of vegan.

“There were only thirty-eight stars on the American flag then. Electricity was popping up. I witnessed my first bit of electric light at night during that decade. The age of industry was upon us. Oh! How wonderful those humans had been,” he went on.

Maybe I could sneak away before dawn and hide in the woods beyond the castle, I continued. If only I had a proper map of the area.

I looked up at Draven who was still talking with a nostalgic grin plastered to his face.

“Say, Draven,” I interrupted. “Isn't there a dangerous pack of werewolves in the area?”

His face went grim.

“Yes, dear. In fact, I was going to suggest discussing that first thing on the eve of your birthday,” he replied.

“Where do they reside?” I asked.

“On the other side of the forest,” he replied with a nod. “They live just beyond our reach. Sirus and the head of their group, Rory, had made a peace treaty some decades ago.”

“What exactly happened?” I implored.

“It was quite the scandal. One of our scouters had been killed by a shifter. Though it wasn't written, it was verbally acknowledged that our groups wouldn't coexist,” he explained. “Their customs are much different from ours. We mate for eternity while they tend to have these despicable orgies with each other.”

I laughed, but Draven silenced me with a hard frown.

“It's no laughing matter, my dear. They treat their women monstrously. They engage in polygamy, something we don't find at all conducive to our survival here,” he sustained.

“I don't see anything wrong with that,” I commented.

“It's deplorable to treat their mates in such a fashion. It completely disregards their value. I don't like it one bit,” he retorted.

I frowned and stared at the crimson liquid in my goblet. I had no idea Draven was such a prude. My frown turned into a slight grin, but I fought the urge to laugh for his sake.

“Do you have a map perhaps? I have no concept of the surrounding areas,” I said smoothly.

“Of course, my dear. We wouldn't want you falling into a pack without protection,” he replied. “Not that you will be doing much scouting, but every vampling must begin as one in order to prove their worth.”

As he reached about for his pockets, I relaxed into the pillows.

“Werewolves sound fascinating. I've obviously read about them in books and seen them in movies. I can’t believe I didn’t realize they existed, too,” I admitted.

“They're a reckless sort of species who thrive on destruction and impregnation. It's a sort of primitive way to live if you ask me,” he said.

“I find it fascinating,” I commented.

“Well, don't get too fascinated with that group. They would tear you to pieces—literally,” he warned.

His hands patted over his pockets as he spun around in his chair, looking down over his spectacles with frustration.

“Where did I put that damn thing?” he asked out loud.

“Are you losing your marbles again, Draven?” I teased.

His face lit up as he procured a large portion of parchment paper and he wiggled his eyebrows in my direction.

“Not in this century,” he replied with a grin. “Let's see here.”

He spread the map over the bed and pointed across a great barrier of trees.

“There. That's the shifter colony. They occupy the mountains since their coats can handle the cold,” he explained while tracing the area with his finger. “And this collection of forest is what separates us from the beasts.”

“Interesting,” I whispered as my eyes wandered across the paper.

I studied the outline of the castle, the labels on each separate sector, and committed the path to memory. It looked like there was a village beyond the shifter colony. If I could sneak out before dawn, no one would hear me…

“Sadly, our food source has been limited due to their location,” Draven continued.

“Are they blocking you from getting food?” I asked.

He shook his head.

“Not quite. It's just been a battle for land. But that's a tale for another night. I'm afraid it's time for you to tuck in, little miss,” he announced.

With a sigh, I leaned back against my pillows and waited as Draven fluffed them. He planted a kiss on my forehead and then stroked my cheek lovingly, offering me a warm smile to keep for the evening.

“You will make a phenomenal fang,” he said.

“You think so?” I asked.

“I know it,” he replied.

After another forehead kiss, he wished me a good day and then left the room, leaving me alone with the dim light from the lamp on my bedside table and the map laid out on my thighs. I looked over the markings.

Guard your thoughts, Riley, I told myself. It's going to be a long day.