He paced around the library, dragging his feet over burgundy tartan rugs as he crossed in front of a stone fireplace. He had tried to read, but the books were dated, devoid of anything that reflected the world of garbage happening outside of the oak door. Or maple.

It didn't matter. It was a door made from a long dead tree. Who cares what body it came from now that it was a corpse?

Evan shook his head. Now was not the time to be worrying about death. As long as the door was strong and kept everyone outside of it, that was enough. No one ever found him hidden among the stacks back home, hopefully, that would remain true here too considering the door had no lock.

But he knew his time was limited.

Enya would no doubt show up and be forced onto him within a few hours. Timothy had succeeded in getting Vicki to agree to attend the event tonight.

That smug ass.

Everyone was buzzing around the house, excited as ever. Their so-called 'prince' was getting engaged. No one cared that he walked around in mourning fitting enough for a funeral. Everyone except perhaps Alyster, who seemed more skittish and solemn than usual. And of course, his father was overjoyed.

Ugh.

If only he had timed this better. If he had eaten more than one bag the other night, he may have been strong enough to get away from his father.

Though even that was unlikely considering how much his father ate now. Gluttonous bastard. He gets a few white hairs and suddenly needs every eligible attractive mortal surrounding him. And he still has the audacity to lecture Evan about their family's legacy.

Evan pulled a book off a desk.

History of Underdweller-Human Relations Volume I: Warring Tribes

He didn't open it; he just looked up at the shelf from which it must've been pulled. There were ten volumes, covering the time when underdwellers lived in hiding and were hunted all the way to when his father signed the treaty that established the marshals as protectors of humans and underdwellers.

Their legacy fit on a bookshelf and was made of dead trees, not living ones.

Evan sank into a chair and popped the buttons open of his black suit. What the heck was he doing? He rubbed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He needed to figure out a way to keep Vicki safe. It was bad, and he knew it was stupid, but his heart raced at the thought of seeing her again.

She wasn't upset with him, she didn't hate him.

Okay, maybe that was a bit of a stretch.

But she was coming, even if the scenario was less than ideal. He just needed to get her alone and speak with her before she got really pissed about the blood wench thing...or his forced engagement...or the fact that they'd probably never see each other again.

Gods. She was going to hate him.

But that would require both of them living through the night, which is what he needed to focus his attention on. Survival depended on keeping her status as a witch a secret.

He gulped. Maybe no one would notice her blood scent changing. That had a decent chance of happening. There would be enough of a crowd and blood scenting the air for hers to go unnoticed as long as she didn't get stuck alone with anyone.

Above the fireplace, a clock sounded with the new hour. The gong echoed between Evan's ears. To most, it was just a reminder that the time was now six in the evening, but for Evan, it said something else entirely.

You're out of time.

Evan left the library and hurried through the corridors until he saw staff unlocking the front doors. He was on the second floor, not breathing, hiding in the shadows of one of the many superfluous pillars in the foyer.

The doors swung open, and Evan watched as vampires he didn't quite recognize were let inside the house. They wore furs much thicker and darker than what was found at the circle. Not that anyone bothered to wear such heavy things. No doubt it was some kind of status symbol for the aristocrats from Enya's territory.

In confirmation, another vampire entered; a burly man with deep red hair the color of fading fire. Next to him, his daughter, the woman he was supposed to marry. She'd grown taller over the last fifty years. Her features were more delicate than they had been when they tried a relationship the first time.

Enya was pretty, he couldn't deny that.

But even from a distance, he could see into her eyes. Harsh and wild, raging like the inferno of hair that framed her face.

That was the face of a woman who'd cut down men before.

As if sensing his presence, she suddenly glanced in his direction. He leaned into the shadows again. There was no way they were going to get married. She'd kill him on their wedding night.

Actually, she had promised to do that when they were kids.

He shuddered with the memory.

Their group was led away, and Evan allowed himself to breathe. More and more visitors entered the mansion: mortal ambassadors, the Chief of the Elara Marshals, and even the werewolf Alpha and son.

Not good.

He had assumed this would be a vampire-only affair. Father didn't care for any other underdwellers, why the hell make a scene like this?

"Big turnout," a voice beside him said.

Evan turned and saw his brother, hair slicked back and in a suit so pressed it looked stitched to his skin.

"You excited?" he said further.

"Hell no. Are you going to help me out of this?"

Alyster's face stayed flat and emotionless.

"There isn't a way out, Evander. You screw this up and you'll embarrass Father in front of the lessers and mortals. Do you know what he'd do if you did that?"

Probably burn the mansion down with everyone inside. Prideful bastard. The door opened again, this time the redhead was one he easily recognized, and the girl she was dragging in behind her...

Gods, how the hell did she get more beautiful in two nights?

"Who are they?" Al asked.

Evan buttoned his jacket and rolled his shoulders.

"My guests, I'll handle them, just go distract Enya for me."

His brother's lips seemed to quirk up at that and he quickly hurried away. This was it. He took to the stairs, steadily skipping one as he descended them. Now wasn't the time to look overly eager.

That didn't keep him from letting his eyes drift up and down Vicki every time he blinked.

She must have borrowed the outfit from Selene. It was more provocative than her typical attire. A deep-cut dress that clung everywhere he wanted his hands to be and barely grazed her ankles. She was a shadow in the night sky, dark, foreboding, tantalizing.

And he wanted to disappear in it.

"Evening," he said, but it came out in a pitiful whisper like he was out of breath. She finally turned to look at him and he saw sadness flash across her eyes.

"Wow, Evan, you sure clean up nice, you are Evan, right? Not the twin?"

That was an insult if he ever heard one.

"My brother and I are not twins, Selene. He walked by, just a second ago. With the black hair."

"Well, I better get on with it then!" She blew a kiss to Vicki, winked at Evan, and skipped away before he could tell her to stay away from his brother. But knowing her, it wouldn't have made much of a difference.

This was it, they were finally alone.

"Hi," he said.

She tucked a loose wave behind her ear.

"Hi," she said back.

He could smell her citrus-scented anxiety sitting on her skin.

"I know everything was sudden, but we need to talk, now." He waited for her to nod and took her carefully by the shoulder. The library would provide the best insulation from prying vampire ears.

They took a step onto the stairs.

"Ah, there you are. The king wants to have dinner before the announcement." Tim looked at Vicki and smiled. "Looks like your meal is all set, come on."

Evan felt Vicki stiffen under his fingers. If only he could tell her what was going on. He didn't have a choice.

"We'll be there in a minute."

"Yeah, you will. He wants you and your wench there. Now."

And now there was pepper spicing the air.

Evan straightened himself. Vicki wasn't the only one getting pissed and he wasn't going to allow himself to be embarrassed in front of her.

"You can tell him I will be there momentarily. Or don't. I don't care. Excuse us."

"It's your funeral," he said with a shrug and walked away.

Tim was hardly ever right, but Evan had the feeling that his last sentence wasn't much of a stretch at all.