When I come around the corner, I stop and lean up against the wall. I listen as Reina peppers Carver with questions. Judging by his annoyed tone, she’s not going easy on him. I’d feel sorry for him if I didn’t want him out of my house.

Carvers rubs at his temples before he responds to Reina’s latest question. “You’re quite inquisitive, Snow White.”

Reina snorts. “Snow White?”

“A compliment, chérie.”

Of course, he was the kind of man to call every beautiful woman chérie. I didn’t want to admit how annoyed—and jealous—it made me feel toward my best friend.

Carver clears his throat before he speaks. “No use in hiding, ma belle. I can hear your breathing.”

“I am not hiding.” I walk into the living room and into Carver’s line of sight. “Why are you here right now?”

His eyes flash to Reina and back to me again. He’s telling me to keep my mouth shut without actually telling me.

“I thought vampires can’t come out in the day,” I say.

“Merde!” His outburst makes me jump. “The Kresova have been kept in the shadows for thousands of years, and you’re telling all your friends. Our first subject to address is caution and discretion.” He points a finger at me and then at Reina. “You, Snow, are not to breathe a word of any of this to anyone.”

“Relax, she’s cool,” I reassure him, but he doesn’t take his eyes from hers.

“Or what?” Reina taunts, putting a hand on her hip. Now Reina isn’t stupid, but threatening a vampire seemed like a really stupid thing to do.

“Carver,” I warn him.

They continue to glare at each other for much too long, and I’m becoming genuinely worried for Reina’s safety before Carver breaks the tension and chuckles darkly.

“I appreciate your fire, chérie, but be warned, you won’t like what will happen if you don’t heed my advice.” His tone makes the hair on my arms stand up, and I shiver.

“Mouth shut. Got it,” she says. “Anything else?”

I sit on the arm of the couch, and Carver looks me over. He takes in my wet hair and flushed cheeks and smiles. His dimples momentarily distract me. He’s too sexy for his own good. “Was I not clear last night? I told you I would come today, yes?”

“Yes, and apparently you meant to-day,” I say with air quotes. “So, vampires can walk in the daylight?”

He laughs. “Yes, chérie.” He raises a hand in the air to stop me from speaking. “And no, we do not have issues with crucifixes or holy water. So please do not insult me by asking such things.”

“I don’t care about the rest of it as long as I can keep the sun.”

He looks to me. “Yes, you will keep the sun, but clearly, you cannot keep secrets. I see you let the cat out of the sack with Snow over here.” He points at Reina accusingly.

“Cat out of the bag,” I correct with a chuckle. “And there is nothing to let out of the bag. Reina knows everything.” I take a deep breath. “I almost munched on her neck a couple of days ago, so I couldn’t really keep it from her.”

“Don’t call me Snow,” Reina says at the same time. She does kind of look like Snow White, but she was teased when we were growing up, so she hates the nickname.

Carver taps his hand on the seat beside him, but I move and take up a spot on one of the barstools. I’m nasty fantasizing again, and I need to keep my distance.

Carver just shakes his head. “May I speak now?”

“Go ahead.”

“Since the queen will expecting you to be presented this evening”—he sits forward, resting his elbows onto his knees— “there are few things you need to know in preparation.”

“I have some questions first.”

Carver raises a brow. “Which are?”

“What’s next?”

“How do you mean?” he asks.

“Do I have to sleep in the dirt? Suck the blood of virgins? I don’t know how to be a Kresova or a vampire in general. Christ, I just finished college. I’m supposed to be starting a life.” My voice rises in pitch as I stand up and pace.

“Goddamn Hollywood.” Carver hangs his head. “None of what they say is real. It’s all a fabricated lie based on what most humans can’t comprehend or fathom.”

Reina pipes up. “So, can you eat garlic? And do you always have to be invited in?”

I raise my hand in the air. “Anyone else feeling fucking ridiculous with this conversation or just me?”

“No, I enjoy Italian food.” Carver’s face is a mask of disgust with each answer. “And no, I do not need an invitation.”

“And the church?” I ask.

“We are creatures of magic like any other, chérie. Not demons.”

I squint at him. “So, we’re not evil?”

Carver looks at me as though I’ve sprouted two heads. “Evil lives in every lifeform, Aurora. Including humanity. It is about how you choose to live your life—not about the life you were born with—or given.”

I feel like a child being educated by an adult.

“What about the blood thing. How does that work? And when will I change? Will it hurt? How did this happen?” My words all jumble together in one breath, and I look at Carver with panic. My limbs shake, and my chest tightens. Just saying the word blood this close to Carver has me aching to slam my mouth over his jugular and suck—hard.

“Deep breaths, chérie. I will help you through it all.” His calm tone soothes me, and I draw in a big breath.

“Why are you here?”

My question catches him off guard, and he frowns. “I already told you. Have you injured your head somehow between now and the last few minutes?”

“No, I’m talking about your search. The one you mentioned before. The one that led you to me.”

He sits back and rests one leg on the opposite knee. “Ah, that.”

“Yes, dat,” I repeat, mimicking his thick accent.

“What do you wish to know?”

“A whole hellavalot, but mostly, how did you find me? How did you know who I was, where I was?”

“It is . . . complicated, chérie. And I don’t wish to lie to you, which is why I will tell you what I can.”

I throw my hands in the air. “What the hell does that even mean?”

“It means, I will tell you as much truth as possible”—he looks at Reina who is now plopped on top of the counter, listening intently— “without lying to you.”

“Fine. Whatever.” I circle my hand encouraging him to continue on. The fact that he’s basically admitting that he’ll tell me the truth, just not the whole truth, antagonizes the shit out of me, but for now, I’ll take what I can get.

“The Queen summoned me four weeks ago, when the attacks first began. At that time—”

“—Summoned you where?”

“Paris.”

“France?”

He nods. “That is where her court resides.”

I’d never even been outside the states. Did becoming a vampire go hand-in-hand with living a glamorous life? I mean sure, that is an upside, but there were bound to be a crap ton of negatives too, besides the obvious undead part.

“Then how the hell am I seeing her tonight?” I ask.

“She arrived in Louisiana two nights ago, when I’d reported my findings.”

“You reported me?”

“There were already rumors, chérie. Whispers that one amongst the three dozen that had been bitten, one had survived—without Morana’s vein.”

Vampires were talking about me. A shiver rakes up my spine. Never mind the fact that I’d soon be one myself.

“And it was before we had actually met,” he adds quickly and looks away.

Why did he want me to know that? An awkward silence fills the living room, making our 950-square foot living room feel smaller than a prison cell. Reina mouths, “What was that,” to me, but I shake my head and turn the conversation in another direction.

“When do I actually need blood?”

“I’m not sure I understand, chérie.”

“Like…” I glance up to the ceiling, thinking of how to best phrase my question. “I haven’t drunk from anyone’s vein, yet, right? I just have all these desires to have blood, even though I haven’t.”

“Your desires could end up hurting someone, yes. But you are not prepared to consume blood.”

“Not prepared?”

“No, chérie. Your fangs have not broken free, and you are unprepared. The bloodlust you feel is a part of the transition. If you tried to take from the vein, you could kill someone and make yourself sick. This longing, it would still exist, but would have dampened greatly with your queen’s donation. Since you’ve lasted without her blood, she wishes to see you.”

My eyes widen. “Am I going to have to drink her blood tonight?”

“No . . .”

Ugh oh. “No what?”

“Nothing.” He rubs at the stubble along his jaw. “Simply that Morana is curious to see how you pass through your transition—without her.”

“So, I’m not drinking her blood.”

“No.”

I’m relieved and strangely worried now. “So, when I do need blood, what happens?”

“For all Kresova, blood can be taken from a willing donor who we can provide you with. Or you can exchange blood with another Kresova.” His tone changes at that last suggestion, and I file that away to ask more about later. “There are some that abhor taking blood from others directly, so they use blood bags from a blood bank. The choice is yours. There are other scenarios, but . . .”

“But what?”

“Nothing.” Carver walks slowly from the window back to the couch and takes a seat. I follow suit and slide into the plush cushions of the couch, my back resting against the arm. “The Kresova are an ancient race, Aurora.”

“And?”

“I simply wish you to remember this fact when you meet her. Things will be . . . different. Perhaps some even difficult for you to understand.”

“Oh-kay.” I don’t even like having a boss. Now I have a queen to answer to.

Reina says, “Is she a ‘hands on’ or ‘hands off’ sort of ruler?”

“Queen Morana, is very hands on, and in case Aurora here was having second doubts about doing so.”

Seconds thoughts. He means second thoughts. I try to hold my smile back, but it takes effort.

“I would like to remind her that not accepting this invitation would result in Aurora being hunted by Morana’s assassins for the rest of her life, which would be very short. All Kresova must accept her rule as Queen and swear their fealty—or perish by her hand.”

I rub my face, no longer inclined to smile. “What if no one had ever told her about me, would she still know?”

“She knows everything.” Carver shrugs a shoulder, his focus on picking the lint off his shirt.

Oh, because that’s not creepy.

“And I’m meeting her tonight?”

Carver nods. “Yes. You must.”

Emotionally, I feel like I got picked up by a tornado two weeks ago, and I’m still being flung every which way. I look to Reina, who’s sitting atop the counter with her feet tucked under her legs. The corners of her mouth tilt up, and she cocks her head. I know she’s trying to be supportive, but there’s a small flicker of worry hidden under her smile.

I’m worried too, but my choices aren’t really choices.

I look to Carver who’s watching me with dark, hooded eyes. “Alright. When do we leave?”