I couldn’t begin to imagine going to sleep; even when I tried the door and the windows they were locked tight. I hadn’t expected any less, but it was still disheartening to feel so helpless and alone.

 

I had been spoon fed hatred of vampires all my life. Now I had more questions about the Venatores Lamiae than I did about vampires. In fact, I had one question about vampires. How the hell did I get away from them and back home?

 

I missed David. The sting of his callous behavior had dulled in the face of what I was sure was my inevitable death by draining. My mind reached out for him. I’d never been away from him in my whole life since my parents died. He would never be my boyfriend. But, he was still my best friend.

 

Now, I was in the most terrifying of strange places, and David was a comforting weight in my mind. It was almost like he wasn’t as far away as I feared. I reached out, but while I felt him, he wasn’t close enough to respond, or maybe he didn’t want to. I tried to do the same with Clayton, but we’d never been as close, and I couldn’t feel him at all.

 

Feeling David meant that my mind wasn’t invaded or under the effects of glamour. I ran to a window and threw back the curtains, expecting to see daylight, but there was complete black behind the glass. Frustrated, I examined it more closely, bringing the candelabra from the table closer to see better. The candles appeared in mirror image in the glass, aside my pale, frightened face and wide eyes. There was no view to the outside: only more stone, or dirt. Something kept the window from ever encountering the sunlight. I checked the remaining three windows and they were all the same. I slammed down the candle holder and screamed my frustration.

 

Despair overtook me easily as I sat in the corner of the room; my back to the wall. I hugged my knees to my chest and rocked; my mind refusing to accept any coherent thought that could help me out of my opulent prison. I thought of Domonique and the hunters. My questions required that I live to receive answers.

 

I breathed in and counted to eight as I exhaled, like I had learned to do to control my anxiety. As I worked on my breathing, I realized I hadn’t thought of anxiety or depression since I’d been taken. Apparently fight or flight responses trumped garden-variety issues. Either that or the master’s glamour was affecting my unconscious responses.

 

With that thought in mind, I practiced my mental shield, putting up and removing the wall repeatedly until I could do it without focusing on each individual part. I wished that I had Dominique’s book with me so I could practice spells. I hadn’t read the whole thing. It was possible a spell that could immobilize vampires was sitting in my carry-on in my hotel room while I was wondering how many hours of life I had left.

 

I reached out with my mind, sending tendrils of thought through the stone and spreading them like fingers down the corridors, trying to sense vampires. As I searched, my brain kept going back to David. My fledgling talent honed in on him instead of vampires, snapping together as one bolt of psychic energy. The energy poured into another room in the ancient building. He was closer than I could’ve imagined and I could feel his terrible pain even though he wasn’t conscious or responding to me.

 

The scream that tore out of my throat was like the shriek of a wounded animal. I was pulled inside him, and wasn’t strong or in control enough to get out. I was caged, feeling every laceration and broken bone like they were my own.

 

My wails continued after Rachel rushed into the room and I was aware of being moved as she carried me to the bed. Suddenly, the pain started to go away, until it disappeared completely. Shaking and covered in frigid sweat, I opened my eyes to see dark green eyes fringed in impossibly black lashes, staring back at me.

 

“You’re in shock,” the master said softly, laying a heavy blanket over me and tucking it under me so I was pinned to the bed. “Can you speak?” I cleared my throat, raw and swollen from my screams.

 

“I don’t know what happened,” I whimpered, my voice full of gravel from pain and emotion. He pressed his hand against my forehead and I glanced over at Rachel. It surprised me that her face was pinched with worry.

 

“What were you doing before you were attacked?” I stiffened at the question. “Nothing you say will bring you harm.”

 

“I was trying to control my fear and use Lady Borgia’s training,” I whispered, pausing as a harsh cough tore at my throat and lungs. “ I don’t have her notes anymore, so I could only practice what I have memorized.” My breathing was steadier now and I noticed that the tight covers had warmed me quickly and slowed my shaking. I tried to sit up and after a moment’s hesitation, the master sat back enough so that I could pull myself up against the pillows.

 

“Then what happened, tiny hunter?” he coaxed. His voice was gentle, but his smirk made it more teasing, less compassionate.

 

“I tried exploring. I was thinking about my friend and suddenly I could feel him and everything in me aimed straight toward him. I felt like I was trapped inside his broken body which was stabbed and chained. It was the worst pain I could’ve imagined and then some. I was helpless.” He glanced at Rachel, who shrugged and shook her head.

 

“Rest. I will be back soon.” Nicholas stood up and strode toward the door. I felt the emptiness in the depression he’d left on the bed. The feeling of loss was crushing and I erected my psychic shield to protect me from the love-glamour that surrounded him like an aura.

 

I’d begun to believe his glamour was unintentional and maybe automatic, but that made it no less compelling. My top priority in getting out of here alive had to be becoming strong enough to resist that pull.