“What’s yours?” Sue-Ellen wondered what the boy on the bed meant. It was hard to think when the most beautiful eyes she’d ever seen stared at her. Gold irises that glowed.

What is he?

“Hey, you!”

The shout startled her, and she looked over her shoulder to see that a man in a white coat had appeared via another door. His expression appeared quite stern, and the spectacles on his nose magnified his gaze. He was also one hundred percent human, while the boy in the bed—she inhaled another breath—resembled nothing and no one she’d ever encountered.

“What are you doing to him?” she asked.

“None of your business. You’re not supposed to be here,” the fellow in the white coat exclaimed.

“Indeed, she’s not. It would seem someone has rudely taken advantage of my hospitality.” The voice of her uncle, coming from behind, startled. Especially given its cold tone.

Whirling, Sue-Ellen saw her uncle Theo dressed in a thick plaid-patterned robe. Tousled hair meant he’d come from his bed, and his lips were turned down in displeasure.

Guilt filled her. She knew she shouldn’t have come down here. He had a right to his anger, but…

A golden gaze bolstered her. She pointed to the boy. “Why is he here? What are you doing to him?”

“None of your business.”

“You’re holding him prisoner.”

“Am I?”

“He’s tied down.”

“For his own good.”

“I don’t believe you.” Because something about this seemed so wrong.

“Are you accusing me of something, niece?”

“You’re taking his blood.”

“Have you never heard of a transfusion?” Her uncle arched a brow.

“Transfusions go two ways.”

“Are you a doctor now? And here I thought you still in high school.”

Only a year away from graduating, actually, thank you very much. “Why do you have him hidden in your basement?”

“Hardly hidden since you found him. And now you need to unfind this place. Go back to your room.”

She didn’t move. “Not until I know you’re not doing anything wrong.”

At that, his brow furrowed, and the expression on his face gave her a chill. “You dare to question me, niece?”

Yes, she did, because there was something very vulnerable about the boy on the bed. Like her, he was young, his skin unmarked by time; he didn’t even have any stubble. She noted the rugged line of his jaw, the sculpted line of his lips. He lay in bed, and yet she could tell he was tall but slight of frame. A boy still transitioning to manhood. If she had to guess, she was probably a touch younger.

He was also tied down. A prisoner.

She turned back to him, noting his eyes were closed again. Had she imagined their brief golden glow?

“Move away from the boy.”

“Why? Is he contagious?” Because she seemed hotter than before, almost as if a fever took her.

Ignoring her uncle, Sue-Ellen moved closer to the boy. Close enough that she could reach out and touch—if she dared.

“Are you awake?” she asked.

Instead of a reply, his head lifted. It took a brief flutter of lashes before his eyes opened. At first, they appeared dark amber. A spark lit within them, interest and something else. Something that made her tummy flip.

“Hi there,” she said. What else did one say to a boy waking in such odd circumstances?

She could have sworn she heard a whispered, “Hello.”

“Can you hear me?” she asked, cocking her head to the side.

“Can you?”

Again, those words, oddly spoken, as if directly to her mind.

The eyes still staring at her blazed brighter. Bright as the sun. Who didn’t want to touch the sun?

She reached out, fingers stretching toward his face, only to pause. What if he is contagious?

His nostrils flared. I am not sick.

Perhaps not. Still…

“Move away.” Uncle’s demand, instead, caused her to drop her hand and press it against the boy’s.

Sparks ignited. Seriously, it felt as if the point of contact had received a huge jolt.

Her lips parted as golden fire ignited in his gaze. She’d never seen such a thing. “What are you?” She breathed the question.

“None of your business, so take your hand off him,” snapped her uncle. “Hurry up with the needle, Vernon.”

What needle?

Something pinched her arm. She whirled to see the man in the white coat withdrawing a syringe.

Her eyes widened. “What did you inject me with?”

She wavered on her feet and turned a panicked gaze to the boy on the bed. She reached out. “Help me.”

He yelled, “No!” and surged forth.

But his restraints bound him. As the sheets fell from his chest, the straps were revealed, winding around his torso, tethering his arms, and his legs she’d wager, too, even as her thoughts slowed.

She blinked and wondered what had happened to her because she could swear his skin bulged. Rippled as if something under it looked to escape.

The fight with her knees ended, and she hit the floor. Muffled, as if from a distance, she heard the murmur of voices, but she could make no sense of the words.

“Look at him…”

“He’s changing.”

Why did they sound so surprised? She wished she could understand, but her mind moved sluggishly. Her eyelashes fluttered, her lids so heavy and…

I think I need a nap.