Preview

“Spider, get up!”

Surrounded by the enemy, fallen in battle, with the smell of spilled blood thick in her nostrils, Tyler couldn’t find the strength of will to rejoin her comrades. Combat raged all around her, but the cool press of stone beneath her cheek was too much a relief to her burning skin. The battle withdrew, leaving behind an eerie silence. Quiet footsteps approached, so she held her breath, hoping to be taken for one of the slain. Then a hand touched her shoulder, and she jumped to her feet, ready for one last fight.

“Whoa now, girl,” Ronan said using the language he’d given her. “You’re back in the cell.”

She gaped at him while the nightmare faded, then relief weakened her knees. He put an arm around her and led her to the bunk, where she sat staring at the floor, her mind a jumble of chaotic thought. More than a minute passed before she trusted herself to meet his concerned gaze. His eyes were blue again, but instead of stark light-blue rings around the pupils, bright flecks of gold glimmered in a way that set primitive instinct screaming. She thought she saw hints of flames flickering in their cores, but when she blinked and looked again, they were gone.

Understanding swept his face. “Most people don’t notice my eyes.”

“I thought you were dead.”

He sat beside her, his expression betraying no secrets. “I’m a very sound sleeper.”

“You weren’t breathing. When they came to take me, I yelled loud enough to…to wake the dead, no pun intended.”

“Forgive me.” He raised a finger to her chin and studied her face, noting with a light frown the bruises on her cheekbone, temple and jaw. “I promised to help you, and it seems I can barely take care of myself.” He lifted one of her hands and examined the swelling wrist. “Was it bad?”

His cold touch sent a shiver up her arm. “Bad enough,” she answered, retrieving the hand.

He held her gaze, his expression still inscrutable, but his eyes seeming to delve deep into her soul. Then he turned to his abdomen and plucked at a piece of tape. “Tell me about Spider.”

“Don’t do that! You should give it time to…” The sight of unmarked flesh beneath the tape suspended her. After he rubbed the irritation from his skin and peeled off another, she whispered, “How the hell…?”

“I heal quickly.” He pulled the tape from below his shoulder. “Spider?”

“People don’t heal that quickly.”

He heaved what sounded like a sigh of resignation. “I am unlike any person you’ve ever known. And you haven’t answered me.”

“That’s because it’s a silly question, under the circumstances. Spiders are eight-legged creatures that spin webs, as if you didn’t know.”

He grunted in apparent dismissal and worked on his legs. “What did they ask you?”

“They were talking nonsense. Courleon seemed more interested in you than me. Personally, I think he’s slipped a widget or two. That, or he’s been watching too many bad horror flicks.”

He glanced at her, then turned away and motioned for her to remove the tapes on his back. She fumbled with them, her wrists sending reminders of their trauma, then rubbed the cold, unmarked skin with the backs of her fingers. No normal person could recover from such injuries in a matter of hours.

“My God, can it be true?”

He braced an arm against the wall and met her gaze. “That I’m a vampire? Yes.” His voice and manner were matter-of-fact, as if his admission wasn’t unusual.

“There’s no such thing as vampires.”

“You only believe there is not.”

She scooted against the wall and drew knees to her chest. After moistening her lips with the tip of her tongue to relieve their sudden dryness, she challenged, “Prove it.”

He leaned forward, bringing his face to within a foot of hers, the gold flecks in his eyes sparking. He inhaled, apparently taking in her scent, while her own breath caught in her throat. “You would rather that I did not,” he said over a low growl.

“Are you going to bite me?” Her voice was barely louder than a whisper and an octave higher.

He straightened again. “Not if I can help it.”

She swallowed the panic clogging her airway. “Can you? Help it, I mean.”

“I don’t take the blood of innocents.” He rose to retrieve his clothing.

“I’m no innocent.”

“You are strong and courageous. You have had a very hard life, and that has toughened you against the world. But you have not shared your bed with another. You’ve never felt the heat of passion. That makes you innocent.”

“How do you know so much about me? Damn it, get outta my head!”

“I need not get into your head, as you so delightfully put it.” He gave the shirt a quick shake to loosen the fabric, then slipped clumsy arms into the sleeves. “You’re broadcasting your thoughts loudly enough that any mortal with moderate talent could hear, and your scent gives your state away.”

His tight tone inspired another lump she had trouble swallowing. “You’re in bad shape. I’ll bet you really, really need blood.”

“Unfortunately, that is so,” he answered while fastening the buttons. “I’d let myself starve if it were up to me, but if no other meal presents itself and I come to the last of my strength, I’ll be forced to take you.”

His manner and tone were too casual, as if he were merely predicting tomorrow’s weather. There was nothing casual in the way she took the threat. “Great. I’m trapped in a cell with a starving vampire. I’d have better odds with a voracious lion.”

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