Turns out Effie and Anders blood boost kicked in, too, and by the time I find them in the club, we’re all too far gone to have a normal conversation. Instead of talking, we dance. We dance until our feet hurt. Until we can’t think. Until we’ve forgotten.

Hours later, I’m standing at the bar, my skin is damp with sweat, and my veins are silent of any buzzing. Anders is next to me, flirting with a curvy redhead and Effie is shamelessly flashing her cleavage as she attempts to convince the bartender to give her free drinks. So far, Austin has been a no-show, but the night is still young with the undead, a motto I’m trying to live by tonight.

I’m having fun. So much fun I can barely think about anything as I stare at the dance floor where magical stars float around in circles, casting a faint silvery glow across the couples and groups of vampires grinding against each other. A sultry song booms from the speakers and the stars seem to dance with the rhythm, twisting and turning and spinning like little dancing pixies.

So pretty.

Everything’s been so pretty tonight.

And fun.

At least on the inside of the club.

Outside, only madness exists. And strangers with red, hungry eyes. Sexy next-door neighbors who have greedy, grabby hands …

No, I’m not going to think about that yet. I want to keep having fun.

I can’t remember the last time I’ve had this much fun.

Maybe never.

I sigh contently as I recline against the tinted glass countertop behind me, thoughts of red eyes and arm grabs fading away into the back coffin of my mind.

“You know who she is, right?” Effie asks the bartender while giving my shoulder a pat. I’d be startled, but my body feels too numb. Contently numb. “She’s your boss’s daughter, which means we get free drinks.”

I peer over my shoulder at the bartender. “It’s true, you know.”

He eyes me over with doubt. “How do I know that for sure? You could be lying.”

I shrug. “I’m not, though.”

The bartender shakes his head, muttering something about dumb teenagers, then walks away to serve another customer.

Effie sighs, turning around and leaning against the counter beside me. She takes one look at me and giggles. “You’re so out of it right now.”

I bob my head. “I feel like I really am.”

“Which is weird.” Her brows furrow. “You should feel jacked up. I know I do. But you look … well, dopey.”

Anders joins the conversation, bouncing on his toes, fangs out, eyes glazed over with the blood high. “I feel like I need to run across a forest right now just to burn off all this extra energy.”

“Me, too,” Effie agrees, restlessly thrumming her fingers against the sides of her legs.

“I feel like I want to go to sleep.” I let out a slow yawn.

Effie gapes at me. “You want to sleep right now? Seriously?”

I give a lazy shrug. “Kind of.”

She frowns, squinting at my eyes. “Did you feel anything at all tonight? Maybe you got a dud.”

“No, I definitely feel something,” I tell her. “But mine is more of a content high, like my body feels right for the first time, and my brain’s so … happy.”

“I hope …” She chews on her thumbnail. “I hope it wasn’t, like, laced with something.”

“Like what?” It seems like I should be worried, too, but I’m not.

“Like magic or a curse or something.” She keeps gnawing her fingernail.

I shrug. “Maybe my body just reacts differently to emperors’ blood.”

“Maybe.” She studies me until she grows too wiggly. Then her eyes wander to the dance floor. “I feel like I need to dance.”

“Me, too,” Anders agrees, raking his fingers through his short, blond hair “I have too much energy.”

“Then go dance.” I shoo them toward the dance floor. “Have fun. Be merry.”

“Are you sure?” she asks. “I don’t know if I should leave you alone when you look so out of it.”

“I’m fine,” I promise her then take a seat on the barstool behind me, as if that somehow proves a point. “Go have some forgetful fun. I’ll be right here, forgetting in this chair.”

She sighs then snatches Anders’ hand. “We’ll be back after one song.” She hauls him with her as she pushes her way across the dance floor.

I face the bar and stare at the mirror hanging on the wall behind the counter. While I feel sleepy and content, my reflection looks alive, my cheeks hued with pink, my eyes buzzing with energy, my pupils huge.

“Admiring your reflection? That seems more like a Nadine thing than a Raven thing, if you ask me.”

I tense as Kingsley plops down in the stool beside mine and his reflection appears in the mirror. I start to automatically stiffen, but the contentment that’s taken over my body for the last couple of hours quickly smothers out any rigidness.

“Why are you here?” I say the first sentence that pops into my mind, looking at his reflection, not him.

A deliberate smile curves across his face. “For the same reason you are.”

“How do you know why I’m here?”

“Because there’s only one reason anyone comes here—to drink, to dance, to let out their sexual tension.”

“It’s an awfully big assumption to think that everyone here has the same agenda. That everyone here is the same.”

His teeth sink into his bottom lip as he bites back his smile. “What can I say? My big, overly inflated head likes to make big assumptions,” he throws back the words I said to him and Rhyland earlier tonight.

“Yeah, it does.” I rotate around in the stool with every intention of getting up and going to the dance floor. But he places a hand on my leg, stopping me.

“Don’t go running off just yet. I need to talk to you.”

I stare down at his hand, my lip twitching with annoyance. “You know, this is the third time tonight someone has touched me without my permission, and honestly, I’m getting really tired of it.” I fling his hand off my leg and glare at him.

He starts to smile, seeming a bit confused, but then his lips sink downward. “Wait? Third time? Who’s been touching you?” He sounds pissed, which is completely annoying.

I roll my eyes. “Your brother, you, and this creepy dude who tried to grind up against me on the dance floor.”

Wait? Why am I telling him this?

Why am I even still here at all?

I start to get up, and again, he puts a hand on my leg.

I move to fling it off, but he captures my hand. Something explodes inside me, a cloud of angry, ready to storm, lightning bolts of rage.

“Let go of me.” I try to wiggle my hand from his grip.

Surprisingly, he lets me go, but keeps his hand on my leg.

“Look, I’m not trying to do whatever it is you think I’m going to do.” He slants toward me and lowers his voice. “I came down here to tell you that you need to come upstairs. And it’s probably a good thing since creepy dudes are touching you. They shouldn’t be doing that. At all. No one should be touching you, except …” A strange seriousness look masks his face as he trails off.

“Except what?” I press. I don’t even know why. Why I’m curious about anything he’s doing. But I am

He shrugs. “Nothing.”

“Fine. Don’t tell me.” Again, I try to stand up, but he won’t let me go. I huff a frustrated breath. “I thought you came here to drink, to dance, to let out your sexual tension, not keep me trapped at the bar.”

He wrestles back a smile. “You’re a feisty little thing when you’re drunk, aren’t you? That’s new.”

“I’m not drunk.”

He squints at my eyes. “You sure look like it.”

I give an indifferent shrug. “Well, I’m not.”

He assesses me. “No, you’re on something,” he accuses. “And that’s definitely new.”

“So what?” I say with my chin held high, portraying more confidence than I’ve had sober. “At least half the people in this place are on something.”

“Yeah, but …” He pauses, his mouth sinking into a frown. “What did you take?”

“Why would I ever tell you?” I jump to my feet, moving faster than I ever have before. So fast, in fact, I nearly trip over my feet and face plant it on the floor. Thankfully, I manage to catch my balance at the very last second and square my shoulders. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, you’re ruining my buzz.” I stride toward the dance floor.

“Raven, you really need to …Goddammit, this is a frustrating new detail to the…” Music swallows up his voice as I slip into the throng.

Music surrounds me, pulsating through me, as I weave between sweat-soaked bodies and lustful hands. I put my hands up and sway my body to the rhythm, that wonderful contentment settling over me again.

I feel like I could do anything. I feel more free than I ever have. Normally, I don’t like being alone in a crowd, but right now, I feel confident. Powerful. Powerful enough to dance by myself. Dance like I own the room.

So, I do. I dance song after song, standing in the center of the crowd, rocking my hips and twirling in circles. Eventually, two guys start dancing with me, wedging me between their bodies. They’re attractive, blond with blue eyes, one more muscular, the other lean. I feel like I should be freaking out—or at least questioning why these gorgeous beings would even want to dance with me—but I can’t find that emotion in me. All I can find is that contentment purring inside me, whispering that I’m powerful, that I’m strong, that I’m wanted.

I dance with the guys for at least five songs, feeling more confident by the second. Eventually, I become confident enough to put my hands on them and run my fingers up and down their chests. One of them groans while the other nips his fangs at my neck, about to bite into my vein. I open my mouth to tell him he’s going to be severely disappointed with the lack of power in my blood, but a voice whispers inside my mind, telling me I’m wrong. That I am powerful. So, instead I wind my arm around the back of his neck and pull him closer.

He groans, his fangs grazing my skin, teasing my flesh. A moan works up my throat, but the noise gets caught on my tongue as the buzzing briefly flickers through my veins. I jolt, startled from the sensation I thought had gone away.

“Don’t worry, gorgeous; I’ll go easy on you,” the guy whispers against my neck as he slips his arms around my waist.

I nod as the buzzing continues to flicker on and off like a light switch. My mind begins to spin with haziness like the magical stars above my head. I’m dizzy. Confused. Lost.

What’s happening to me?

I debate whether to walk away and or lean back and let the sexy vamp give me my first bite ever. Clearly something’s wrong with me. I should try to find out, right?

“Relax,” the guy purrs, his fangs roaming along the arch of my neck, not rough enough to break the skin, but close. So, so close.

I start to lean into him, ready to experience getting bitten for the first time in my entire life, but at the last second a foul, icky feeling stirs inside the pit of my stomach.

Don’t do it.

Vomit burns at the back of my throat and I start to move away when suddenly his fangs are no longer touching my neck. Neither is his body pressed against mine. Then the guy in front of me staggers back, his eyes huge as he stares at something over my shoulder.

I start to twist around to see what’s spooked him, when someone grabs me by the waist and throws me over their shoulder. My lips part, a scream working up my throat—

“I tried to do this the easy way. I really did,” Kingsley says as he shoves through the crowd. “But since you insisted on being a pain in the ass, drastic measures are now being taken.”

My head spins as blood rushes to my brain. “Put me down, you asshole.” I smack my hand against his back. “I’m probably flashing everyone.”

“Yeah, so? I’m sure it’s not that bad of a view,” he teases.

I swat him again.

“You know, you used to be a lot nicer.” He adjusts my weight on his shoulder. “I’m not sure if this is really you or if you’re just too high on whatever it is you took.” He pauses, as if waiting for me to tell him, I keep my lips fused. “Fine, don’t tell me. I’m going to find out in a few minutes, anyway.”

I roll my eyes. Then puzzlement cracks inside me as he starts up the winding stairway

“Wait … You’re taking me upstairs?”

“Yep.” He sounds so smug.

I reach back and check to make sure my skirt’s covering my butt. “Why?

“Because your mom and dad are up there and need to talk to you.”

I scratch my head, which turns out to be an awkward thing to do while you’re hanging upside-down. “Why didn’t they just come down and get me?”

“Because they’re”—he gives a short pause—“dealing with a situation.”

What is with all these vague answers?

“What sort of situation?”

“You’ll find out soon. Just like I’ll find out soon what you’re on.” When he reaches the top of the stairs, he starts down a hallway lit up by gothic metal lanterns, and moonlight trickling through the glass window roof.

“Why? Because you think my mom and dad are going to make me? FYI, they won’t care.” I know my words are true, too. How could my mom care that I drank emperors’ blood when I know she would’ve let me go upstairs and drink some straight from the vein?

“We’ll see,” he says with that stupid smugness I grew up hating.

I smack him on the back again, just because I can.

He chuckles, and then mumbles, “Man, he’s going to have his hands full.”

I literally have no clue who the he is that he’s referring to. Or maybe this is all just a dream? Perhaps I’m passed out in the car from the blood boost and none of this is really happening.

I feel awake, though. Awake for the first time.

Man, I’m such a weirdo. How do I come up with this shit?

I continue to question if I’m dreaming until Kingsley reaches the end of the hallway and enters my mom’s office. Then the dream theory becomes a hell of a lot easier to believe.

I blink and blink again at the upside-down image of my parents, Nadine, Kingsley’s parents, Rhyland, and at least half a dozen strangers filling up my mom’s spacious office.

“Whoa, this is a trippy dream,” are the first words that leave my lips.

My mom promptly frowns. “What’s wrong with her?”

Kingsley sighs. “I think she’s on something.”

“Tattletale,” I hiss. Then I prop my hand against his back, lift my head, and brush my hair out of my face to get a better look at the scene.

Almost everyone is looking at me worriedly, except for Rhyland, who’s staring down at his clenched fists, and his mom is staring at him with extreme concern. Well, and Nadine, who’s glowering at me. That seems normal, though. Maybe the only thing normal about this entire situation.

My gaze shifts to my mom. “This is a dream, right?”

My mom shakes her head, appearing more on edge than I’ve seen her. “No, honey, it isn’t. This is very real.”

I rub my eyes, not fully trusting her. “Are you sure? Because this is really weird, and weird usually equals a dream.”

“Okay, now I’m really curious what kind of dreams you have,” Kingsley says with amusement.

I lift my hand to swat him again.

“Don’t even think about it,” Kingsley warns with a trace of laughter in his tone.

I pause, then lower my hand. Not because I’m scared, but my mom looks so upset.

“This isn’t a dream, Raven,” my mom clarifies again, then sighs. “Kingsley, you can put her down now.”

“Are you sure?” Kingsley asks. “With how bratty she’s acting, I wouldn’t be surprised if she tried to run.”

I pinch his back hard.

Shaking his head, he sets me down on the ground then steps back with his hands in front of him. “She’s all yours,” he tells my mom then positions himself in front of the doorway like he’s some freakin’ tough-ass bouncer.

I give him a dirty look, and he grins.

Shaking my head, I look back at my mom. My phone is vibrating wildly from inside my pocket, probably with messages from Effie and Anders, wondering what the hell is going on. I’m right there with them, equally as confused.

“So, if this isn’t a dream, then what’s going on?” I ask. “And why are all these vampires here?”

“To keep you safe.” A breath eases from my lips as my mom takes my hands in hers. “Raven, honey, before I try to explain to you what’s going on, I need you to tell me what you took tonight.”

I glance around the room, hyperaware that everyone is watching me. And while that contentment still exists inside my veins from the blood boost, I’m starting to feel a bit of apprehension stirring deep inside my chest.

“Um … Can I take a rain check on telling you?” I ask with a hopeful smile.

“Oh, my God, this is so fucking ridiculous,” Nadine mumbles, shaking her head. “Her over me. Her.”

“Nadine,” my mom warns. “You were warned.”

Sighing tiredly, my dad stands up from the leather sofa he’s been sitting on and moves beside me. “Raven, whatever you say—whatever you took—no one’s going to be upset with you.”

“I know that,” I say. “You guys would be hypocrites if you were.”

The crease between my mom’s brows gradually vanishes. “Oh, God … please tell me you didn’t … didn’t drink emperor’s blood.”

A deep, throaty growl reverberates around the room.

What the shit?

“There’s no way you can get upset with me,” I tell her quietly. “Not when you’ve let Nadine do it.”

My dad lets out a string of curses while another growl rumbles across the room.

What the hell is that?

“I’m not upset … I’m just …” My mom presses her fingers to the brim of her nose and shakes her head. “Whose blood did you drink?”

“I don’t kn—”

The words die on my lips as Rhyland jumps to his feet and chucks the coffee table against the wall, shattering the metal structure into a thousand pieces that rain into the air. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he growls, a vein bulging in his neck. “This isn’t how this is supposed to go. She just has to keep fucking with me, doesn’t she?”

“Temper tantrum much?” I slap my hand over my mouth as soon as the words leave my lips. Kingsley was right; I am feisty when I’m riding a blood high.

Mr. Midnitegale gets to his feet and places a steady hand on Rhyland’s shoulder. “Son, relax. Everything’s going to be fine. We just have to wait for the blood to work out of her system. That’s all. Nothing’s changed.”

Rhyland’s fierce gaze locks on mine, his eyes burning with … well, I’m not quite sure, but it makes me step back.

I glance at my mom, her face a mixture of worry and terror. Then I glance at my dad, who is rubbing his hand across his forehead. Finally, my gaze falls to the black hardwood floors, covered in fragments of what used to be the coffee table.

“What’s going on?” I whisper, no longer feeling very confident.

My mom swallows hard. “There’s been a recent development … Well, development might be the wrong word.” Her throat bobs again. “I guess there’s no easy way to say this other than to just say it.” She clutches my hand. “Earlier this week … the lead empress requested that every empress and emperor go to the Eternal Reading room … that the Eternal Readers had requested that everyone receive an unexpected reading.”

“Is that normal?” I wonder aloud.

She nods, her gaze flicking toward Rhyland, a movement I find odd. “It happens occasionally, but usually it’s to weed out some of the more unfit emperors and empresses who aren’t doing their job properly. This time it was for a different reason.” Her fingers tremble against my hand. “It was to announce a king.”

My lips part in shock. “Holy shit, Hawk’s friend of a friend of a friend was right.”

“Who’s Hawk?” Rhyland bites out, his body trembling with rage as he inches toward me.

His dad throws out his arm, holding him back. “Easy. You’re too amped up right now to get that close to her. You need to calm down first. You should know better.”

As my confusion soars through the roof, I find myself longing for the blood boost to return to my body, longing for that contentment again.

Ignoring Rhyland’s question, I ask my mom, “So, who is he?”

She lets out a deafening breath, and then her gaze shifts to the left.

Right at Rhyland.

I cringe. Fuckety fuck of all vampires, he has the power to punish me now? He has so much power. Arrogant, coldhearted, lock-me-in-a-locker-and-try-to-kill-me-with-a-demon Rhyland has more power than almost any vampire in the world.

“I know what you’re thinking, but it’s not like that,” Rhyland says, his fiery gaze carrying mine, his voice surprisingly gentle. “I promise I won’t ever hurt you.” Passion blazes from his eyes, a passion that shouldn’t be shown toward an enemy.

I literally have no damn clue what the hell he’s talking about, but something is going on. More than just Rhyland becoming king.

My gaze glides around the room at all the vampires staring at me, watching me with troubled expressions. Even Nadine looks a bit tense.

Something’s not adding up. Why drag me up here to tell me Rhyland is king? We’re not friends, so what’s the big deal? Why not just tell me when I got home? And without the vampire mafia around. They look like the same mafia that was hanging out in his driveway earlier. Are they here to protect Rhyland?

Suddenly, all those SUVs parked next door make sense. The vampires inside are probably Rhyland’s bodyguards.

“Raven.” My mom’s gentle tone draws my attention away from the strangers crowding the room. “There’s more I need to tell you.”

I swallow down a shaky breath, feeling a heightened shift in the air, as if my senses have turned up to full volume.

Giving my hand a gentle squeeze, my mom guides me over toward where Rhyland is standing. She gives Rhyland a small, encouraging nod. He returns the nod and sits down on a red leather sofa, releasing a shaky exhale. My mom then takes a seat, too, and pulls me down with her, positioning me between the two of them and leaving me very little room.

Warning flags start popping up, and I instinctively lean closer to my mom.

Rhyland sucks in an uneven inhale, as if battling to keep his temper under control. I remember how he grabbed my arm right before I left the house for the club. While his grip wasn’t rough, it was intense enough to startle me. With how intense he looks right now …

I lean even closer to my mom.

“Raven, honey, you need to calm down a bit.” My mom offers me a small, tense smile.

I peer around the room and frown. “It’d be much easier to do that if everyone wasn’t standing there, staring at me like I’m a one fanged vampire at a freakshow.”

Nodding understandingly, my mom then turns to a taller man with the greenest eyes I’ve ever seen. “Clear everyone out for a minute, will you? Let this be a family thing.”

The man steps forward with wariness written all over his face. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea right now. Not with what’s going on in the streets—”

My mom raises her hand, silencing him. “That wasn’t a request, Cam.”

He—Cam—presses his lips together and nods. Then he strides for the door. Everyone except for my family and Rhyland’s files after him.

Once the room is cleared out, Kingsley takes a seat, and my dad walks over and closes the door.

“Thank God,” my dad mumbles. “It was getting way too stuffy in here.”

“Yes, it was,” Mr. Midnitegale agrees, slumping down into a leather chair. “I know they mean well and that they’re here to protect, but I’m already starting to get a blood ache from them being around, and it hasn’t even been a day yet.”

“Everything’s going to be okay.” His wife takes a seat beside him and places her hand over his. Then she offers me a tiny smile. “Raven, you look lovely tonight.”

“Thanks?” I say more as a question because the statement feels strangely out of place right now.

She gives me an anxious smile in return, a nervous edge creeping into her features.

Nervous, nervous, nervous. Everyone is so nervous.

I settle my gaze on my mom. “Will you please just tell me what’s going on? Everyone’s acting like the apocalypse is about to happen, and I’m starting to get really worried because I don’t have my apocalypse emergency kit with me.”

“It’s not something bad,” my mom attempts to reassure me. “What we need to tell you … it’s not … bad… It’s just going to be hard for you to hear.” Her grip on my hand tightens. “Earlier tonight, before dinner, I was informed that an unexpected reading was told during Rhyland’s reading of him becoming king. During his reading, a queen’s name was announced. I wasn’t told who she was yet. Just that she’d been announced. But when Rhyland—the king—showed up at our house tonight, I—all of us—were informed of who she was.”

I frown. “Well, that doesn’t seem very fair. Shouldn’t the reading be told to the queen, and not passed along through a message? I mean, she’s going to be the more powerful one. If anyone should get told directly from Fate, it should be her.”

My mom’s lips quirk with mild amusement. “Unfortunately, that’s not always how it works. But I do agree with you.”

Rhyland blows out a deafening exhale. “So do I.”

The sound of his voice has me leaning even closer to my mom. “So, who’s the unlucky girl?”

“Hey,” Rhyland protests, though a smile threatens to turn upward on his lips. “I take that as an insult.”

“Good. That’s how I meant it.” I roll my tongue in my mouth to stop from saying anything else that might piss the king off. Although, it takes a hell of a lot of effort.

Instead of getting upset, though, amusement glitters in his eyes.

“Well, it really sucks that you see it like that.”

And just like that, reality is no longer smacking me across the face. It’s crushing me into the ground, into thousands of pieces, like the coffee table scattered across the floor.

“Wait a minute … It’s not … I’m not.” I shake my head in denial. “Nope. There’s no way.”

My mom holds on to me for dear life. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but you are. You’re the queen.”