Despite my exhaustion, my mind refused to give in to the promising void of sleep. Dawn was fast approaching, and when Matthias led me to the guest room, he showed me how to use the automatic black-out shades he had installed on virtually every window in the condo. The high-tech material instantly made the room pitch black. As far as I knew, vampires had never actually slept inside coffins, but as I stared into the dark, I imagined the experience wouldn’t be too far off. Though, if I had to choose between the two, I’d keep the king-size bed with Egyptian cotton sheets.

Back in Beechwood Harbor, I’d had a decent-sized room in the namesake homestead, the Beechwood Manor. My room had been nice enough. The large home retained its original, hundred-year-old hardwood floors, which were always kept polished to perfection. The room had come with solid oak furnishings and a large, three-paneled window that overlooked the woods behind the house. Even when I had the shades drawn against the southern light, I kept one of the panes cracked open an inch to let the sound and smell of the ocean air inside, even in the dead of winter.

Everything about the manor was homey and comfortable. Posy, the ghostly landlady, somehow managed to see to it that the house was always clean even without the corporal use of her own hands. In the colder months—which was seven or eight months of the year—a fire burned in the stone hearth, filling the house with warmth and the sweet smell of burning wood.

I missed it, even though Washington state had never been my idea of a permanent landing place. I wistfully stared into the dark, thinking about all the times I’d slammed my door and cursed my nosey roommates. Now, I would give my left arm just to sit in the dining room and listen to them all bicker and tease one another. My heart ached, wishing for sound of the ocean. The gentle roar of the waves was usually the perfect distraction to tame my overworked brain.

I doubted even the ocean could help me tonight, though.

Barely twelve hours into my return home and I’d already been put on house arrest, set up to be fought over like a piece of meat in a pit of crocodiles, and had my room turned into a crime scene. Oh, and on top of that, my best friend was missing, likely kidnapped, and there was a chance that whatever monster had gone full-blown Sweeney Todd in my bedroom had meant to use his blade on me and found Ivan and Jupiter instead.

“Stars,” I hissed into the darkness. “Could it get any worse?”

A dangerous question, but it begged to be asked all the same.

I shifted on the stiff mattress. Had anyone ever slept on this bed? It sure didn’t feel like it. Apparently, Matthias wasn’t used to entertaining overnight guests.

Eventually, I drifted off to sleep but it came it fits, none of which lasted longer than an hour. When I woke up for the dozenth time, I checked the clock on my phone. It was three o’clock in the afternoon. “That’s as good as it’s going to get,” I mumbled, slapping the phone face down on the bed beside me.

Whatever goon my father had charged with rounding up my suitcases had missed one. Naturally, it was the one that contained my pajamas. When I’d mentioned this to Matthias after my father’s departure, he’d brought me a pair of baggy sweatpants and an oversize t-shirt for me to wear. The shirt was a soft, faded grey with the monogram HH on the front, in big navy blue letters that were cracking and peeling at the edges. Hartford House, I assumed. I padded to the bathroom and turned on the lights, momentarily surprised by my own reflection. It had been a long time since I’d worn a boyfriend’s clothes.

Not that Matthias was anything close to a boyfriend.

Still … the faint smell of cologne clinging to the fabric was kind of nice.

Lacey!

I shucked off the sweats and climbed into the shower.

It took two washes to rid my locks of the copious amounts of hairspray keeping my temporary spiral curls together. After the second rinse, I relaxed against the warm stone tiles and let the hot water run down my back. That was one clear advantage over the Beechwood Manor; endless hot water. Between the ancient water heater in the old house and the janky plumbing, it was risky to take anything longer than a five-minute shower. All it took was someone using the kitchen sink or flushing a toilet for the steamy spray to go from sauna to polar plunge.

Of course, explaining the importance of proper plumbing maintenance to a woman who’d died back when bathwater was heated via stovetop was a surefire way to get an eyeroll-inducing lecture about unrealistic expectations and counting it a blessing to live in a beautiful mansion for less than the cost of a weekend stay at a Motel 6. How Posy knew the going rates at a Motel 6 was beyond me.

When I started to prune, I reluctantly turned off the spray and wrapped up in a thick white towel, surprised to find it perfectly warmed. I sighed happily as I realized the bar to the side of the shower was heated. “Now, this I could get used to,” I said, wiping a small circle in the layer of steam on the large mirror. “If I have to marry one of these vamps, it might as well be the one with the heated towels and fancy car.”

I smiled at my reflection but the reality of the bargain I’d struck with my father hit me full force, taking the smile right off my face. Regret bit into me, but I quickly brushed it off. Deal or not, there was no way my father was going to let me off the hook. I should be happy. I’d managed to get the unyielding baron to compromise when it came to Jupiter. Compromise wasn’t usually a word in his vocabulary.

I’d spend a literal eternity shackled to some random vampire, but at least I’d been able to help Jupe.

That is, assuming they found her.

“No,” I said, snapping at myself. “When they find her. She’s still alive.”

Dark thoughts encroached on me and I hurried to turn on my hairdryer, using the full-blast setting to drown them out.

Twenty minutes later, I managed to get my hair back into a shiny, platinum sheet. I applied a little makeup, changed into a pair of dark-wash jeans, a lightweight sweater, and a pair of low heels, and went downstairs.

Matthias sat on the couch, one ankle resting on the opposite knee, staring at a tablet in one hand through a pair of black-framed glasses. His other hand was wrapped around a large white mug, balancing it against his leg. He glanced up when I cleared my throat and offered a tight smile. “Morning.”

“Morning,” I replied.

When was the last time I woke up at the same time as someone else? Back in Beechwood, my roommates would be in the middle of their day by the time I got up, which usually meant an empty house. Well, except for Adam St. James, the shifter. He ran some kind of nerdy computer business from his bedroom and was usually hanging around, but he only came out to make a run to the kitchen for snacks.

A pang in my stomach made me grimace. Was it possible I actually missed the obnoxious shifter?

Nah. I was probably just hungry.

“I don’t think I’ve ever met a vampire who drinks coffee,” I said, wrinkling my nose at the acidic scent.

Matthias laughed softly and hoisted up the mug. “You should try it sometime. It’s good. Especially when you lace it with a bottle of AB negative.”

I wrinkled my nose. “I’ll take your word for it.”

He smiled and drank deeply.

“My roommate back in—” I stopped myself, wondering if it was wise to give him details of where I’d been before the summoning. I dismissed the momentary anxiety with a flap of my hand. It wasn’t like Matthias cared where I’d been, and now that my father made it clear he knew my hide out, I’d never be able to return again.

“Back in?” Matthias said, his voice gentle even as he raised his brow.

I gave my head a slight shake. “I used to live with a witch who worked at a coffee shop. She always came home smelling of the stuff.”

“Ah.” He studied me over the brim of the mug and then set it aside on the glass table beside the couch. “What was that like? Living with a witch?”

An unexpected laugh bubbled from my lips. “Interesting, to say the least. This particular witch has a penchant for stumbling into every wrong-place, wrong-time scenario you could imagine, and we all had to come together to bail her out.”

“We all?”

Nodding, I rounded the couch and took a seat in one of the high-back chairs sitting adjacent. “It was essentially a halfway house for paranormals living outside the havens.”

Matthias’s eyebrows climbed another half an inch. “I thought your father might have been exaggerating on that point. But you were actually living in the human world?”

I laughed again. “Yes. And I somehow lived to tell the tale. Honestly, I don’t know why that’s so scandalous. It’s not all that different from living in a haven. Sure, there are no underground tunnels, so daylight hours are pretty dang boring, but otherwise … it’s the same.”

“I wasn’t—” he stopped, apparently thinking better of whatever he’d been about to say. “I don’t think it’s scandalous. I’m just … surprised, that’s all.”

I tucked my feet up underneath me and sighed. “I imagine the entire Court would be scandalized if they knew where I’d been all this time. My Aunt Gemma wrote to me while I was gone. According to her, my father played it off like he’d sent me to some recovery day spa in Iceland. You know, to heal me from my psychotic break. I guess that was the only way to explain my rejection of the esteemed Lord Gowen.”

A grin crept across Matthias’s lips. “That’s right. You’re the famous runaway bride.”

I frowned at him. “It wasn’t like I left the guy at the altar.”

“No. You’re right. It was much kinder. What was it again? Twelve hours before?”

My scowl deepened. “This is funny to you?”

“A little,” he replied, nodding. “I went to school with Gowan. Let’s just say the only reason the yearbook said most likely to succeed was because most pompous jerk wasn’t available as a category.”

I snorted. “So, it wasn’t just me?”

Matthias shook his head. “He was a special kind of … something. I can’t say it broke my heart when I heard he got jilted in front of the entire Court.”

“Well, my father wasn’t quite as pleased about the whole thing.”

“Hence the banishment.”

“Eh, yes and no.” I cocked my head. “That was more voluntary than anything else.”

Matthias’s smile faded and his eyebrows peaked again. “Really?”

“Leaving before the wedding was strike two and I didn’t want to stick around to see what would happen once I hit strike three.”

“Melanie was strike one,” he said, more of a statement than a question.

“Yeah.”

Dropping my eyes, I noticed the HH emblem on his chest. “You got a whole closet of those shirts or something?”

He glanced down at himself, as though he’d forgotten what he was wearing. He grimaced and then looked back up at me. “Not a closet, but there’s probably at least a drawer full of them.”

I laughed. “Why?”

He sighed. “My mother gets shirts for every member of Hartford House every year before our annual family retreat. We go to our property in Connecticut and spend the weekend. The shirts are kind of a requirement. I don’t even know where she gets them.”

“She must be a Pinterest enthusiast,” I said, smiling at the cranky expression on his face.

“What’s a Pinterest?” Matthias asked.

I flapped a hand. “Never mind.”

“I don’t know why I keep them, to be honest,” he continued. “I guess they remind me of good times.”

“You’re lucky. If the entire Vaughn House got together for a weekend retreat, I can almost guarantee there would be body bags involved.”

“Yikes.”

I nodded. “Everyone wants a piece of the East Court and they all battle each other to try to get in my father’s good graces.”

“What you said last night, about not wanting the Court, was that sincere?”

I scoffed. “Well, for starters, it’s not an option available to me. So, what’s the point in wanting it?”

Matthias frowned. “You’re next in line. Aren’t you?”

A cold smile turned up the corners of my mouth. “Technically, yes. But there’s no way the Court would recognize me on my own. Not without an heir. I would have to fight and scrap for every ounce of respect and I don’t want it badly enough to even try.”

“I see.”

“It’s been this way forever. My sister and I were always seen as pawns, not players.” Fury started percolating in the pit of my stomach and my hands tensed on the armrests of the chair. “Now, with Melanie gone, the duty to carry on the line falls to me. Hence the oh-so-flattering title of Legacy Bearer. As if that’s the only thing I could possible do that would be useful. My father doesn’t want me to rule and govern. He wants me to give him a grandchild.” I tossed my head in disgust.

“And if you do have a child …” Matthias kept his voice tentative. “What happens then?”

“I don’t know what his exact plans are, but I imagine they involve enrolling the child in some boarding school where my father can be sure to control every drop of information that’s presented. He’ll start them young, indoctrinating them into this world.”

Something flickered behind Matthias’s steady green eyes. “You won’t have a say, even though it will be your child?”

“Pah!” I laughed, the sound hollow. “That won’t matter. He has dozens of guards at his beck and call. If he tells them to lock me in a tower so high it would make Rapunzel’s nose bleed, that’s exactly what they’ll do.”

Matthias winced.

There really was only one way out from underneath his thumb, and while I was desperate, I wasn’t able to wrap my arms around the idea of killing my own father.

My gaze shifted and landed on the mug of coffee sitting on the end table. “Last night, before the ball, Jupiter was helping me get ready. She said things had changed around here since I left. Things aren’t right. Families are leaving. Old, established houses, just gone. It doesn’t make any sense to me. Do you know what’s going on? Why are people leaving?”

“I don’t know when it started, but there have been a lot of businesses closing down in the haven. Court-owned shops and restaurants. Everyone says it’s slow sales, but I don’t see what’s caused it to suddenly dry up. The haven population hasn’t changed. Why would waves of people just stop frequenting vampire-owned businesses overnight? No one seems to have the answer. But that’s how it started. Then, the other thing I’ve noticed is there are a lot more turned vamps around the haven.”

My eyes went wide. “How many?”

“I don’t know the exact number.” Matthias glanced to the side, as though forgetting we were alone in his living room. “But there’s this bar I go to most days after work. They play basketball games and have decent on-tap brews. Anyway, a lot of vamps hang out there, and they host a weekly support group for the newly turned. The first group I saw was small, just three vamps. Then, the next week, there were four turns. Last week, they had to shove three tables together to make room for them all. Must have been a dozen or more.”

“Whoa.”

“It’s possible that some of them have been turned for a few weeks and are just now getting around to joining a support group. I don’t know, but it seems like a lot.”

“Especially if some of the old houses have moved on,” I added.

“Exactly.” He nodded. “Old houses are moving to other territories and some even to other courts. Then you have a bumper crop of newly turned vampires? Something feels off.”

According to the Haven Council, vampires weren’t allowed to turn people. Period. Full stop. If a vampire was turned over to the SPA for turning humans, the consequences were grave.

The Vampire Council was more lax in their approach. While not the official ruling force over vampires, they were the elders who most courts looked to for guidance. They allowed two turns per vampire, and only in cases of accidental death or special requests, such as humans with terminal illnesses who wished for immortality and happened to discover a vampire. It wasn’t freely encouraged, but the council looked the other way.

If there was a sudden surge of turns, that was a massive problem. One my father should be looking into. Was he even aware of it? My gut told me he knew everything that happened in his territory. He had spies everywhere and with his reputation, they would be fools not to report something of that magnitude to him at once.

Matthias rubbed a hand along his jawline, his expression pensive. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I think this tournament might be some kind of distraction to keep the Court busy while other pieces shuffle into place in the background.”

“I wish I’d pressed Jupiter for more information.” I sat back in the chair and exhaled. “I hope she’s okay.”

“Me too.”

I wanted to ask him if there was more than a friendship between him and Jupiter. The sadness in his eyes told me there was something there, but I wasn’t sure it was romantic. Wouldn’t he be climbing the walls if his girlfriend or frequent-flirtation was missing following a brutal murder? It also didn’t explain what he was doing as an entrant in the tournament. His mother wanted him to marry. Jupiter wasn’t a bornling. Was that the issue? A vampy Romeo and Juliet?

The questions danced at the tip of my tongue, but before I could figure out how to ask any of them, my phone rang.

I groaned when I caught the name on the Caller ID.

“Who is it?” Matthias asked.

“My mother.”