The white faces of the tombs in Lafayette Cemetery are pale blue in the dying sunlight. We decided to follow the same setup as last time so the bloodsuckers will know it’s us returning.

I’m dressed as before in loose jeans, heavy boots, and a black T-shirt. Again, the small gun loaded with silver bullets is in my boot, and this time, I have a stake in my back pocket.

Two notable changes, however—Patrick insisted on resuming his preferred form of German shepherd, saying his movements are too slow as a larger breed. Stuart is an oversized Rottweiler at my side. Both are wearing the heavy silver chain collars. In addition to looking badass, the collars protect their necks from injury.

We don’t speak aloud. It’s one of the primary benefits of the transfusion. Our plan is to start at the tomb where the old one was hiding last time, and if he’s no longer there, we’ll work our way down the rows. The dogs can follow the scent of the vampires. Unfortunately, it’s the only power that never crosses through the blood to me.

We’re only a few tombs deep into the ancient burial ground when Stuart’s back bristles. He stops, and a low growl rumbles through his throat.

They’ve been this way recently, Patrick tells me, picking up the scent along with his brother.

All of my muscles peak. We’re on high alert. We round a tall crypt, and we’re in the shadows of five monuments. The further in we go, the darker it gets, until it happens. My skin tingles. A dark silhouette rises from the gloom ahead of me on the path.

It’s not the same vampire I fought, Patrick says. It’s a new one.

The three of us stop in our tracks. New ones are as dangerous as old ones, primarily because they’re unpredictable. They’re still learning their powers, and they take inexplicable risks.

He’s using it to alert him of our location, Stuart says. I’ll take care of this thing.

A low growl rumbles in his thick body, and I can feel his adrenaline kicking up a notch. My pulse rate quickens in response, and Patrick begins to pace.

The thing is drawing closer, making hissing noises and flashing hideous red eyes. It’s a male, dressed in skinny jeans and a threadbare shirt. He looks like what’s left of a homeless runaway, and it’s possible he had mental illness at the time of his transformation.

Watch yourself, I say to Stuart. He’s bound to do something unexpected.

As if the monster can read my mind, he takes a flying leap to the top of the crypt to our left. The three of us scatter back, wheeling to face him, assuming defensive posture lest he try to drop down on our backs and sink his fangs into our skulls.

“You smell delicious, hunter.” Crouched like a giant bird, he smiles and licks his tongue at me. “I’m sorry I won’t get to eat you.”

Cold hands clamp around my neck as his final words are spoken, and before I’ve had a chance to regain my footing I’m in the clutches of a strong vampire.

“Fuck!” I growl, shooting out my palm and making contact with the forehead of the same killer clown who scampered down the wall at me last night.

I’m not strong enough to fight him off, but my quick movements keep his fangs from sinking into my neck. His teeth slice through my shoulder, ripping my shirt and leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

He rises up almost faster than I can see and starts another plunge for my neck.

“No,” I shout, reaching for the stake in my back pocket as I twirl in the dim light. It’s out, but I’m bit. His fangs pull a deep drink of shifter blood from my veins.

A heavy, black body dives across my opposite shoulder, hitting the demon in the chest, loosening his hold on my neck and sending him staggering back. At the same time, my attacker falls to his knees, screaming in agony from the burn of shifter blood.

My neck is on fire from the residual vampire saliva making contact with the shifter in my veins. It takes me a moment to find my balance, but in that time, I’m aware two more have joined their ranks. We’re outnumbered, and we’re surrounded.

Stuart seems to have grown larger as his shoulders bulge. He’s standing guard beside me, and I’ve only just caught sight of Patrick finishing the homeless-man-turned-vampire.

“Why have you returned, hunter?” The old one hisses. “We’re not troubling you.”

Bargaining with bloodsuckers turns my stomach, but in this case, we have to be sure we’ve found what we’re after. I want no false sense of security. I want to know for a fact I’ve killed the one who killed Alison.

“Six years ago you left this cemetery for New Jersey,” I say. “While you were there, you lured a young woman into the woods, where you bit her, drained her of blood, and left her dead in a shallow grave.”

The bloodsucker’s face doesn’t move. He’s like a marble statue watching me charge him with the crime.

“That woman was my wife.”

Patrick’s at my side now, and I stand with my two brothers facing three agents of darkness. It’s the chant. We’re here for justice.

“I don’t know time, hunter, and I stopped remembering kills long ago.” The vampire’s voice is scratchy with age. His skin is almost translucent in the growing moonlight. A quick glance tells me it’s a full moon tonight. They’ll be stronger than any other night of the month. Fuck.

Focus. Stuart is in my head. We can handle this.

Even though I was his commanding officer as a Marine, in shifter form, he’s the alpha, and his word calms my racing thoughts.

Say her name, Stuart says.

“Alison Spencer Alexander,” I say. “Princeton, New Jersey.”

A swirl in the air behind me, and it’s too late to wait for a confession. Patrick’s yelp pierces the night, and I feel the pain of the knife blade slicing through his shoulder. I have only a second to lunge forward when the second one is on top of me, scratching and clawing for my throat. It was enough time, however, and I’m able to plant my boot in the fiend’s chest and shove it hard against the opposite wall of crypts.

Patrick’s wounded, and the fucker on him is pulling back for another stab. Stuart dove at the old one just as the ambush happened, and I see him ahead snapping and biting at the ancient being. The fiend is moving fast, evading every attack and landing kicks on my partner’s muzzle and ribs.

I can only choose one of them to save as I whip the gun from my boot.

BAM! BAM! BAM! The bare concrete around us amplifies the gunshot noise, and the vampire on my younger partner falls dead at his feet.

Patrick’s lying on his side on the cobbled walk, and I go to him, looking back to see how Stuart has fared. He’s managed to get the advantage by jumping onto a platform. Now he’s face to face with the killer clown, snapping and lunging for his claw-tipped white hands.

In a flash of white, the vampire grabs Stuart’s muzzle—one hand on his upper and one on his lower jaw. He’s preparing to rip my partner’s head apart. Without a moment to lose, I snatch the wooden stake from my back pocket. A quick prayer my aim is true, and I throw the sharp wooden rod with all my strength.

A loud yelp, and I’m afraid I’m too late. Everything goes still, and I don’t know if I hit or I missed. It’s not until Stuart shakes his jaws out of the vampire’s limp hands that I realize I hit him. The old one staggers and falls against the concrete platform with a grunt.

At the loss of their leader, the other monsters fall back and begin to disappear into the shadows. The ones who have never made a kill will be released from his spell and return to human life. The others, depending on their strength, will either retreat to the crypts and go dormant or emerge to start their own legacy of horror.

Either way, we don’t have to worry about further attack tonight. A quick check tells me Patrick will be okay. His shifter blood is already healing his stab wounds, just like the shifter blood in me is already healing my bites.

I pull the ancient knife used in our ritual from the holster at my waist and quickly slice off the head of the vampire I shot. Then I stride to the old one, dying on the stones.

He isn’t dead yet, and I can only pray we get our answers.

“Alison Spencer Alexander,” I demand. “You killed her six years ago in the woods of New Jersey. Confess, bloodsucker!”

A grinding sound like the scraping of a boulder over bricks fills the air. It shudders and stops then starts again. I realize the fucker is laughing at me, and it takes all my willpower not to pull my leg back and kick his head off his shoulders like a football.

Still, I have to be sure. “Answer me, demon. Did you kill my wife?”

Stuart is on his feet now, fully recovered. He walks slowly over to the dying fiend, opens his large muzzle, and clamps it on the vampire’s neck. The monster’s eyes widen in horror as my partner slowly applies more and more pressure with his teeth.

It’s a hideous sight in the black and white shadows, but Stuart isn’t breaking the undead skin. Yet.

Ask him about Sloan, Stuart says in my mind.

“Sloan Reynolds recorded your involvement in the murder,” I say, and at the mention of my former mentor’s name, the thing’s eyes flare with anger.

He coughs, a sick sound signaling his approaching death. The stake is deep in his heart. It’s a slow, painful way to die, and I’m not sorry.

“Get your dog off me.” His voice is a contemptuous snarl.

Stuart’s eyes meet mine and he pauses only a moment before releasing his hold on the monster and stepping back—not too far.

“Say that name again,” the thing says.

“Sloan Reynolds. He was a vampire hunter like me.”

It starts to laugh, but the eerie noise is broken by another sick cough of death. His glowing white eyes focus on mine, and his next words send ice through my veins.

“Sloan Reynolds is a one of us,” it croaks out. “Sloan Reynolds killed your wife.”

I feel like I’ve been kicked in the stomach. My wind is gone, and I actually drop to one knee not wanting to believe it. At the same time…

Ask him how he knows, Stuart says.

We’re behind a concrete wall topped with urns. The entire scene is growing darker, more shadowy by the minute. Memories of what happened to Sloan, his involvement with the vampire, his withdrawal. I never saw him in the daylight again.

“Can you prove this?” I manage to stand, stepping closer to the dying thing.

“No,” it says. “I don’t care to prove it. Believe me or don’t.”

My mind is spinning, but the truth is unavoidable. “Why did he do it?”

The old one doesn’t answer me. He’s fading into the concrete, taking my answers with him. I race across the stones and grab his moldering coat, jerking him up with all my strength. A foul hiss of air floods my face, and I almost drop him at the stench.

“Answer me!” I shout in a ragged voice. “Why did he do it?”

The thing’s eyes only roll in his head, and his head lolls forward. I give him a harder, more violent shake that almost snaps his head off. “God dammit! TELL ME!”

It’s too late, brother. Patrick’s gentle voice is at my shoulder. He’s back with us, nuzzling my arm. Come on, partner. Let’s get out of here.

My hands are fisted in the dead thing’s coat, and my stomach is a tight ball of rage. Betrayal washes through me in burning waves. Sloan killed Alison. My friend, my mentor. Her murderer.

Derek, it’s time to go. Stuart stands on the crypt facing me, compassion in his eyes. A low rumble of thunder sounds in the distance. Clouds are rolling in, erasing any traces of light from the cemetery.

I relax my grip on the dead monster, and his body falls with a dull thud to the stones. One quick swipe with the razor-sharp knife, and I remove his head from his body. Before we leave, I toss matches on the three dead vampires. They’ll burn quickly and cleanly, and the ash will wash away with tonight’s storm.

* * *

Melissa

I got a reprieve from dinner with the shifter. Patrick texted he had a sudden job and needed to reschedule. Without going into how relieved I’d felt, I happily ordered room service and Pitch Perfect for us to watch.

My appetite still hasn’t returned, but I take a few bites of the barbecue shrimp I ordered. Truthfully, I’m more interested in splitting a bottle of white wine. My emotions have been drawn tight as a bow since lunch.

The evening started that way, at least. Us relaxing, watching the characters sing-off in a drained swimming pool, when without warning, my friend hops off the couch and starts pacing the room wringing her hands.

“What’s the matter with you?” I frown, watching her.

“Something happened to Patrick,” she whispers. “He’s been hurt.”

Pushing myself up straighter on the couch, I watch her walk. Her hand flutters to her forehead, and her eyes close. A little frown, and I know she’s straining to get more information.

“If he’s a shifter, he’ll be okay,” I whisper, wanting to comfort her but not wanting to interfere with whatever she might be hearing or seeing. “Don’t they have super healing power?”

Suddenly she stops. She pauses a few moments, and she exhales loudly. “Oh my god.” Her fingers spread wide, and she starts shaking her hands. “He’s okay. Oh my god, he’s going to be okay.”

Jumping up, I go over to her and catch her hands, pulling her to the bed. She blinks and focuses on my eyes. “Are you going to be okay?” I ask.

A nervous little laugh shakes her shoulders, and her chin drops. “I don’t know.”

I survey our small, dark room and make a decision. “Let’s go out.”

She frowns, watching me as I go to the closet. “But I thought… You said you felt bad. You wanted a quiet evening.”

“Patrick knows what he’s doing, and we need to get out of this room.” I take out a silky red dress with spaghetti straps. “You’re about to go crazy cooped up in here, and if you go crazy, where does that leave me?”

My best friend shakes her head and steps to the closet. “If you’re sure about this.” She takes out a yellow dress similar to the one I’m holding.

“We’re supposed to be having a girls’ weekend in New Orleans.” I say, as the fabric slides over my head. “What kind of lame girls are we sitting in this room watching movies?”

“The kind that had some pretty heavy information dropped on us at lunch.” She slips her dress over her slim hips and pulls the zipper. “I’m fine staying in with you.”

“I think wallowing is the worst thing we can do. Besides, I know you want to find him.”

She doesn’t argue.

A quick look in the mirror, and I see my makeup from earlier is still in place. A dusting of powder, a little lipstick, and we’re heading down, into the night.

Twenty minutes later, the bottom falls out. Rain pours down, and we dash, shrieking into the closest bar for shelter.

“Lafitte’s!” Elaine is breathless as we look around the dark, brick-interior of the ancient blacksmith shop-turned bar.

The place isn’t wired for electricity, which still blows my mind. Candles in small glass bowls are the only lights in the very dark establishment. It doesn’t matter to my new eyes. I easily see a few patrons sitting at the bar, and we walk slowly past the large, brick fireplace to the center of the room.

“I’ll order us some cocktails,” Elaine says. “You find a table.”

Walking slowly through the semi-crowded place, I try not to make eye contact with anyone. Lafitte’s is supposedly haunted, and while communicating with the dead is old hat to Elaine, I’m still adjusting to being something other. I don’t want to mistake a ghost for a patron.

I easily locate an empty table in a back corner and go to it. Several minutes pass, and I hear the sound of rain growing stronger on the roof.

The patrons’ loud voices create a wall of noise in the background. Further back, someone is playing a piano, “House of the Rising Sun.” I trace my fingernail along the lines in the tabletop, doing my best not to think about Derek.

After discovering his true occupation this morning, I’ve done my best to suppress all memories of last night. Still, when I’m alone this way, it’s impossible to keep my mind off the intense rush of pleasure I felt when I bit him. It eclipses everything that’s happened before or since. No orgasm compares to the euphoria of his strong blood filling my veins.

With a little growl, I scrub my hand roughly over my forehead. Looking up, I scan the dark bar again, straining my eyes for my friend. More patrons have filtered in to escape the downpour, and I’m afraid if I leave our table to find her, we’ll never get another one. What’s taking so long? I’m back to wishing she could hear my thoughts, because they would be a stern. Hurry up, Lainey!

I’m still leaning forward in my seat, trying to see the front of the bar when my eyes meet his. An onslaught of emotions throws me back—desire, dread, longing, lust, need.

Derek is walking straight to me, and I can’t move. My heart thuds rapidly at the sight of him. I can’t catch my breath. Something’s different about him, but I don’t have time to consider what it might be. He reaches down and takes both my hands, pulling me to my feet and into his arms.

His strong arms surround me, holding me tight against his firm chest as his face presses into the side of my hair. My heart beats painfully, my hands clutch his shoulders, and I can only hold him with my eyes squeezed shut, my face against his chest until our breathing gradually becomes one.

“Melissa.” His warm voice against my skin soothes me. He’s holding me. I’m holding him, and his blood burns hot under my skin.

Mine. The word appears in my mind, even though I know it’s not true. I can’t call him that when I stole what little of him I possess.

After a few moments, he lifts his head and looks into my eyes. “I was so unhappy this morning when you were gone.”

“I’m sorry.” My voice is soft and high. “I had to leave.”

One hand stays around my waist, holding my body firmly against his. The other moves up to smooth my hair off my cheek. “Why did you have to leave me?”

His beautiful eyes are so full of the longing I feel. My heart aches, but I can’t answer him. Instead, I press my face into his chest again, inhaling deeply of his woodsy scent. Only now, it’s slightly different. That foreign thing is back, stronger than before. He nudges me out of those thoughts.

“Tell me why you’re afraid.” I love the sound of his voice, the warmth and comfort of it. If only…

“There’s so much you don’t know,” is all I say. We’re still a moment, holding each other. Then I realize. “How did you find me?”

I step back to see his face. He gives me a little smile. “My partner Patrick is… well, he’s in love with your friend. It’s hard to explain.”

“Patrick is here?” The words are barely passing through my lips when I’m hit with the most powerful wave of nausea I’ve ever felt—even worse than before.

“Oh!” My hand goes immediately to cover my nose and mouth, and I push out of Derek’s arms, staggering back toward the wall.

I expect to see Patrick, but I’m surprised when it’s a different man. He’s as tall as Derek and equally intimidating, but he’s leaner. He looks like Patrick, but he’s darker with brown hair and hazel eyes. All these thoughts skitter through my mind as I struggle to get away from the man’s fierce glare. His presence is overpowering.

“Melissa,” Derek’s voice only glances off my misery. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, god,” I gasp. Reaching out, I push through the tables. My hip catches one, and it scoots forward against the people sitting around it, spilling their drinks. They complain loudly, but I’m far enough away from that person to have a clear shot at the door. I take it, practically running. The darkness is not a hindrance to me.

“Melissa!” Derek is behind me, but he’s having a harder time navigating the dark room.

I barely notice Patrick and Elaine cuddled nose to nose at the bar, grinning in their blissed-out state. The milder repellence of his aura drives me out into the pouring rain.

I’m soaked immediately, my red dress clinging to my body, but I can’t stop. I’ve got to get away. Moving quickly, I head west in the direction of my hotel, block after block. The street is still littered with people either too drunk to care about the pouring rain or committed to turning the sudden deluge into a game.

I dodge them, pushing past, onward until I’m at the corner of Bourbon and Conti Streets. A car rumbles past, hitting a puddle and sending an arc of water waist-high in my direction. With a little cry, I jump back, and SLAM! right into Derek’s firm chest.

His strong arms are around me again, pulling me under the awning of a daiquiri shop. We’re out of the rain, but he isn’t speaking. My back is to the wall, and he catches my chin, forcing me to look at him.

Drops of rainwater drip from the ends of his dark hair. We’re both soaked, but our physical condition is secondary to what’s happening now. The muscle in his square jaw moves, and I stare into his steel blue eyes. All the longing, the lust, the desire is there, but I see something new as well—confusion and disbelief. Anger.

My breath hitches faster, and he pulls away, dragging me behind him the remaining block to his hotel. We push past drunken tourists, and he strides through the lobby, barely noticing the doorman, who mutters Monsieur and holds out a thick, white towel.

Derek’s expression is resolute as we enter the elevator. It’s so different from last time. My heart thuds loudly in my ears, and my anticipation level remains high. I have no idea what’s coming or why he’s so angry. My dark hair is heavy and wet on my shoulder, and the air conditioning inside the building makes me shiver.

My nipples peak, and he notices. Lust smolders dark in his eyes. Still, I quiver under his stern gaze. A little ding, and the doors open. He takes my hand roughly and moves faster to his room. Door card in, chirp!, the door is open, and he practically throws me inside while he stops to remove his wet boots.

I cower against the wall, unsure whether to speak. I can’t stop shivering in the cold air, and with the thud of the second boot hitting the floor, Derek comes to me with determined strides.

His eyes are on my mouth. I’m breathing so fast, I can see my chest rising and falling as he slams my body against the wall. Pinned again, he looks hard into my eyes before claiming my mouth roughly, forcing my lips apart, and finding my tongue.

A little noise squeaks from my throat. I don’t know why he’s treating me so roughly. I grasp his shoulders, following his movements with mine, hearing his heart beating faster like mine. His blood heats in my veins and moisture pools between my legs. Even frightening and angry, I want him so much.

Without speaking, he takes my hand and leads me to the bed. He lifts my wet dress over my head and steps to drop it in the empty tub, pausing a moment to quickly discard his own wet shirt and jeans. I watch him mesmerized as he takes an oversized towel off the ledge and returns to me. He’s gloriously nude, the low light deepening the lines on his chest and stomach, his enormous cock fully erect.

Touching my hair with the towel, he gives it a few squeezes then spreads it on the bed behind me. Anger mixed with desire is in his eyes.

He lifts me and pushes me onto my back then grips my thighs, shoving them open. Immediately, he begins to kiss and lick my center. His soft lips and velvet tongue move slowly over my clit as his beard scrapes the delicate skin of my legs.

“Derek!” My cries join the low growl coming from his throat as heat rockets through my pelvis down to the arches of my feet. Adrenaline is so high in my veins I start to come.

“Oh, god!” The tingling sensation spreads over my gums.

My mouth! He has me trapped on my back against the mattress, his strong arms looped around my legs, large hands holding my hips.

“Derek!” I pull his hair, trying to twist away, to turn my body so he can’t see me, but I’m trapped.

He lets out another low growl, the vibration right against my clit, and he gives me a sharp suck. It’s too late. The muscles in my core tighten irresistibly in response to him. His blood in my veins magnifies everything about him, making him a drug to me. My back arches involuntarily as my teeth shoot out.

“Aaaah!” I let out a long wail, my eyes squeeze shut, and I come hard and shuddering on his mouth, unable to stop the ecstasy.

He doesn’t waste a moment. He’s up and plunging deep between my thighs just as fast, not waiting to see what I’ve become. Both of my wrists are clasped firmly over my head in his iron grasp as he surges on, harder, deeper, groaning as his rocks into me again and again. The friction of him stretching and filling me shudders my body with pleasure. His eyes are closed as he makes his final thrusts again and again as his orgasm reaches its crest.

“Melissa,” he groans low as he comes, pulsing in me, holding me down.

I’m trapped beneath him, tears filling my eyes, uncertain what all of this means or what happens now. He saw what I am, but he didn’t pull away. He held me, watching me writhe in desire and agony, as if he knew what would happen.

Oh, god. A wave of dread tightens my stomach at the thought. He knew what would happen. He knows what I am.

His head drops onto his forearm, but he’s still inside me. I wait until he finally lifts it, again. His eyes linger on my mouth a few desperate moments before he looks straight into my eyes. He’s so beautifully mouth-watering. Sweat mingles with the rain on his cheek, and a little drop runs into his beard.

I know my eyes darken at the sight of him. A whimper escapes my chest as the irresistible hunger burns in my throat.

His brow lowers. “You want to bite me?”

My eyes squeeze closed as a flood of fresh tears fills them, spilling out of the corners and down my cheeks. I take a shuddering breath, unable to deny the truth.

“Can you control it?” His voice has changed. The anger is replaced by curiosity.

Opening my eyes slowly, I study his expression, still stern, trying to understand. I don’t answer. I only watch him, my hunger aching in my gums.

His steel eyes hold mine with such determination. “Do what you have to do, but only for a moment.”

I’m confused by his permission, but I’m too weak to resist him. His grip on my wrists relaxes, and I slowly lift my hands to his broad, muscled shoulders, holding his eyes with mine as I carefully rise to lick a little bead of sweat off his neck.

A noise rumbles in his throat, and inside me his erection returns. My breath picks up as the flavor of him spreads through my mouth. Rising higher, I press my nose against his heated skin, inhaling fresh rainwater mixed with his delicious man-scent.

I’m on fire. My moan is matched by his low growl as I trace my tongue along the line of his jaw to the ridge of muscle in his neck. I’m acting by instinct, grazing my razor-sharp teeth lightly across his skin, touching him gently with my tongue. His hips begin to move, thrusting again, and I feel the muscles in his shoulders tightening as his orgasm builds.

At last I’ve found it—the place from before, the little pin pricks. Like before, it’s so easy, a warm knife through butter. I penetrate him, and the hot, thick taste of his life spills into my mouth.

Instantly, we’re plunged into that orgasmic place, tumbling down the rabbit hole, lost in a whirlpool of giving and taking inexorable ecstasy.

“Fuck!” He groans as he comes inside me, pulsing long and hard, over and over.

My eyes are closed, my mouth attached firmly to his skin as I drown in the tsunami of pleasure, life flowing into me from all sides.

It’s harder to stop this time. I want more of him, more and more of this. He seems unable to pull away as well. He’s still in me, throbbing and gripping my hips so hard, I think they’ll break.

I might have kept going. I might have… but a beacon of light cuts through the quick thud of his heart beating strong in his chest.

STOP! The voice I recognize as mine echoes through my transformed state. It reminds me what I want. I want this man to live. I don’t want to drain his life and doom myself to living alone as a monster. I want to live with him in the light.

It takes all the strength I possess to pull out. I break my seal with a moan of regret, licking my lips to be sure none of him is wasted.

Dropping back on the bed, I close my eyes to savor the sensation of him swirling inside me. Derek… my Derek… so strong… my fighter… my hunter…

Only like before, the strange, foreign element is back. It burns longer this time before ultimately disappearing into my bloodstream.

It’s not him. It’s something else. What have you done, my love?

My brow lines with confusion as I try to understand what I’m feeling. At the same time I realize his head is down, pressed against my shoulder. He’s inside me, but his breathing has slowed and his heart rate has returned to normal.

Slowly, he lifts his head, but his expression is unreadable. His eyes move around my face, and I know my appearance has changed. I know taking his blood makes him weaker, more susceptible to my powers.

He blinks those beautiful blue eyes at me, and his next words break my heart. “I wanted to give it to you. But you’d already stolen it.”

A wave of sadness covers me, and I’m sure I’ve lost him. I betrayed him, and now he knows I can’t be trusted. I’m the same as all the rest of my kind. I’m the thing he’s dedicated his life to destroying.

Despair tightens my chest, and I close my eyes, wishing for death.