Eli swears.

I don’t think I’ve ever heard him swear before. But he does. Loud and blunt.

“You’ve both seen an awful lot in the last sixty seconds,” the man says, looking up from Eli to me from beneath his dark eyelashes. “And for some reason you seemed to think you could do something about our little scene.” He directs his words at Eli. “Why?”

Eli slowly rises to his feet. He holds his hands out slightly, as if to hold the two of them back. That’s fear in his eyes. Genuine fear.

Justified. Considering the decapitated man lying in the street. The lifeless woman resting in the alley behind us.

What… Oh, lord. What…what is happening?

Why are their eyes glowing like that?

How did they move like they did?

“I just heard a woman scream,” Eli says as he takes a slow step sideways toward my side. “I came to help. We…we didn’t see anything. I swear. We’ll go.”

The woman laughs and my blood chills.

We’ve just been witness to…to what? We watched them kill that man. And that woman he killed…

The man before us narrows his eyes at me. He takes two steps forward, searching my face. “What’s your name?” he asks. His voice is smooth like butter, and carries a faint Spanish accent.

My mouth opens just slightly to answer, but no sound comes out.

“She’s no one,” Eli interjects before I can even answer. “I promise, we’ll cause you no trouble. Just let us go and you’ll never hear a word from us.”

“I’m afraid this is a bit of a problem for us,” the woman says, taking a step forward.

My heart rate doubles. Sweat breaks out onto my palms. Fear crawls through me like a million ants.

“No,” the man says, taking two more steps forward through the darkening night. “I know you. Don’t lie to me. What House are you affiliated with? Sidra? Martials?”

“Hou…house?” I stammer, looking from him, to Eli. “I…I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The man’s eyes flare brighter, red and brilliant.

A hiss rips from his lips and he becomes a blur. And then he’s in my face.

Fangs, pointed, glistening fangs in my face, he growls, grabbing the front of my shirt, pulling me an inch from his own face.

“Tell me your name,” he growls.

Eli leaps at us, only the woman plows into him, knocking them both to the ground. He’s swinging, wrestling, roaring. “We’re no one,” he bellows. “Release us and I swear on my life we will cause you no trouble.”

“Why did you follow us?” the man hisses into my face. “Who are you spying for?”

“I’m not a spy,” I say. A lick of anger flares in my blood. I shake my head, my entire body shaking violently. “I swear. We’re just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

His eyes harden, and he suddenly steps away, but his hand latches around my wrist, and he yanks me forward. I stumble, nearly tripping. I cry out in pain as his hand tightens around my wrist. Like steel clamps.

“No,” Eli yells. “Please. You don’t have to do this.”

The woman yanks him forward. She’s surprisingly strong, because as he tries to yank out of her grasp, she wrenches his hands behind his back, twisting him into a painful hold he can’t seem to break.

The war inside of me, of emotions swinging between terror and raging anger, is very real. “Please,” I plead, fear reaching frantic levels in my blood. Anger and confusion make my vision blur. “I swear, we won’t say anything. Just let us go!”

Neither the man nor the woman say anything as they march us down the road.

I debate screaming. Letting a blood curdling scream rip from my lungs, calling for help.

But I look over to Eli, and see that the woman holds a blade in her hand, wedged into his side.

Two blocks we trek, and then we turn into a door. It’s a big steel one, industrial.

There are no lights on in the building. It smells strongly of gasoline and rubber.

My captor unlocks the door and shoves me into the dark.

I’m going to die. This is where they will kill us.

Pitch dark swallows me as I’m shoved inside, stumbling over a hard floor. The sound of keys echo once more, and I hear a heavy lock sliding into place.

Eli’s shoulder bumps into mine in the dark. He continues pleading for our release, but is only met with silence.

Hands grip me once more and I hear the clanging of chains against metal and then a snap.

I’m shoved down and I fall into a seat. The next moment my wrists are yanked back, and a chain is looped around my wrists and something clicks into place.

I’m a prisoner. Locked up. About to die in the dark.

Yep. This is just my luck.

I should have gone with Amelia to Tanner’s and watched that movie with them.

I should have gone with Eli into my apartment to talk.

Any number of paths that would have led to a different outcome than the one where I am about to die.

There’s the sound of a match being struck and then a candle casts dim light.

Cinderblock walls surround us, all the way up to the ceiling, maybe twenty feet above our heads. A garage door is half bricked up, and a single steel door marks where we entered.

My guess is that it was once an auto-body shop.

The man steps back into view, walking toward me. He bends over, bracing his hands on his knees, looking me in the eye.

“Who are you, and who are you working for?” he says, his voice calm and even.

“We’re no one!” Eli demands again. He’s growing more frantic by the moment.

I look at my captor. He’s in his mid-to upper-twenties, I’d guess. His complexion is a little darker. Black hair sits atop his head, messy, but purposeful. Dark, dark brown, nearly black eyes have taken over the glowing red. He’s cut, in incredible shape beneath those jeans and that black t-shirt.

“I know I’ve seen you before,” he says again, his voice even but dangerous. “Tell me your name.”

“My name is Logan Pierce,” I blurt, my voice trembling. “I’ve lived in this area my entire life. And I can say without a doubt that we have never, ever met before.”

His jaw clenches and his eyes grow harder as he presses his lips together. He straightens and stalks over to the chair where Eli is chained, his wrists fastened to the arms of the chair, his ankles shackled, as well.

“You’re certainly more capable than you smell,” he says, placing his hands on the arms of Eli’s chair, leaning down and studying him. “What are you? A hunter? Were you following us? Looking to take us out?”

“I have no weapons on me,” Eli says, his voice evening out just a little.

“Oh, but that’s a lie,” the woman says, stepping forward. In her hand, she holds a pointed bit of wood, maybe ten inches long. “I pulled this from the waist of your pants.”

My eyes widen, and flick back to Eli.

The look on his face tells me she isn’t lying.

“Eli?” I breathe, immediately realizing my fatal mistake in giving away at least his first name. “Do you…do you know what’s happening? Why would you be carrying a stake?”

He won’t look at me. He only stares the man down.

The man hisses. His eyes drift down, studying Eli. And he goes still as his eyes fix on Eli’s hand.

And the ring that rests on his middle finger.

“Conrath,” the man growls as he grabs Eli’s hand and yanks it toward him, the chains clanking. “You little liar.”

He looks over at me and studies my face again. Deeply. Searching.

My eyes. My nose. My mouth. My jaw.

He’s taking in every single detail of me, memorizing my features.

And slowly, slowly, a wicked smile grows on his lips.

“No,” Eli says. “No! She has nothing to do with anything. She’s nothing more than my friend. She has nothing to do with the Houses.”

“Oh, you are such a liar,” the man says. He releases Eli’s hand and stands straight. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a cell phone.

“She’s no one,” Eli growls, growing angrier and more desperate by the moment.

“A guardian from the House of Conrath and a face that looks so achingly familiar?” the man says as he dials a phone number and then holds it up to his ear. “I don’t think so. You know what I think? That Court will be very, very interested to get a phone call from the House of Valdez.”

He goes quiet and listens for a moment. He turns his back to us and slowly walks toward the other side of the space as he talks quietly.

“What’s going on, Eli?” I breathe through my quivering lips. I’m shivering violently. “What is he talking about? Why the hell are you carrying a stake? Who is he calling? What does Conrath mean?”

At the word Conrath, Eli noticeably flinches. His jaw tightens.

But he doesn’t look at me. His eyes remain fixed on the man in the corner, quietly talking into the phone.

“He is wearing the Conrath crest,” he quietly says. “I’m telling you, she looks just like her.”

He’s quiet, listening.

“Who does he think I am?” I ask, starting to feel frantic. “I look like who?”

“Quiet,” Eli finally says, a little bark to his voice.

“I understand that doesn’t mean she’s anything but human, but I’m asking you to consider the fact that this man is here guarding her,” our captor says. “That has to mean something. And considering it’s the House of Conrath? From what I hear, he and their leader have some…interesting history.”

Eli’s breathing grows heavier.

I look over at him. And I consider.

Guardian.

That’s what the man said Eli was to me.

Guardian.

Have I ever been more than just a few minutes away from Eli? Was it merely coincidence that he moved in just a few doors down? That he moved to Greendale as soon as I did? That he is always around?

“Eli?” I breathe. But I can’t bring myself to ask the question. Did you plant yourself in my life for a hidden reason?

“Thank you,” the man says, sounding absolutely relieved.

Eli’s breathing is ragged. He leans forward, his fingers curling around the arms of the chair. His knuckles turn white.

“I said move back in with your parents,” he says. I’ve never heard his voice sound like that. So low. So utterly dangerous. “I should have taken immediate action. Now all these years may be for nothing.”

My heart beats as a dull thud in my chest. The rest of me is as numb and dead as the bodies on my table as I try to make sense of his words.

The man in the corner suddenly stands ramrod straight, every muscle in his body pulled tight. He presses the phone a little harder to his ear, listening.

“No,” Eli growls once more. “She is no one. She is nothing to the Court. Let her go!”

The man is quiet for a beat longer. And then he slowly turns back toward us, his eyes locking straight on Eli’s.

“He says to ask you how many years it has been since a measly Bitten beat him to killing Henry,” the man says. “Rath?”

And a purely animal roar bellows from Eli as he jerks forward. The bolts securing the chair to the concrete floor groan, threatening to snap.

And now I know I don’t imagine it. For just a moment, there is a ripple of yellow that washes through Eli’s eyes.

The man chuckles. “Oh, it’s him.”

He listens again, and the man’s eyes snap over to my face. “I’m certain. She has to be.”

I can hardly breathe. Darkness flickers all around the edges of my vision. I’m breathing too fast. There’s too much panic and adrenaline surging through my veins.

I’m going to pass out.

I’m going to faint.

“I understand,” the man says. “We shall see you in twelve hours.”

Another unearthly roar rips from Eli.

The man ends the call, sliding the phone into his back pocket. Eli bellows and roars like a tied, starved lion, fighting against his bonds. I hear one of the bolts snap.

“This is about to get very, very interesting,” the man says. And from his pocket, he produces something. Before I can identify it, he jabs it into the side of Eli’s neck. He immediately slumps still.

A scream rips from my lungs and I try to lunge to him, only I just rattle my chains.

“I promise you he is not dead,” the man says, tossing the syringe into a corner. I hear glass shatter. “But he had to be contained before he caused me a problem. He’ll wake near morning.”

He’ll wake. Meaning this man doesn’t plan to kill him before then.

“Who are you?” my voice quakes, but comes out clear and strong. “Why are you doing this?”

I jump at the sound of metal scraping concrete. He drags a metal chair across the floor. He sets it just in front of me and sits, resting his elbows on his knees.

“My name is Edmond Valdez,” he says, his voice beautiful and luring. “I am one of the heirs to the House of Valdez.” He studies me once more, but instead of the smirk and scheming in his eyes, I just see searching. “I’m doing this because you look exactly like your mother, and that makes you very, very interesting to the Court.”

“My…my mother?” I question, confused at the turn this has taken. “I…I don’t look anything like her. I’m…I’m adopted.”

Understanding dawns in his eyes, and a little smile pulls at the corner of his mouth. “Ah. That makes sense, then.”

I shake my head, blinking three times fast. “No. None…none of this makes sense.”

He smiles sympathetically. “It will soon. All of this is because you look so very much like your birth mother. I’d question if I’m just seeing things. But his presence,” he nods his head at Eli, “just confirms it.”

“My birth mother?” I question. “You…how could you possibly know who she is? It was a closed adoption. My parents don’t even know her name.”

Edmond smiles, and I think that really is genuine pity in his eyes. “Because I’ve met the woman, on more than one occasion. She was at my House just two years ago. You have her same nose, lips, brow. Your eyes, though, I suspect you got those from your father. Whomever he may be.”

My head is spinning. Faster than I can keep up with.

Too much.

Every single bit of this night is just too much.

Monsters. These people are monsters.

Ripping off heads. With glowing red eyes.

I’ve been abducted by monsters.

“She’s spiraling,” the woman says, who has been so very quiet this whole time that I forget she’s even here. “We need to do something about it.”

“Hmm,” Edmond says, looking at me.

My vision is getting dark. I’m breathing too fast.

“I’ll do it.”

“Fine,” he says.

Suddenly, there’s a sharp prick in my neck.

And then nothing but black.