The Abernathy mansion loomed in stark relief against the moonless night. It was a massive home, the largest property in town. In broad daylight, it gave me the creeps. At night, it was just plain scary, especially because of the monsters I knew dwelled within.

Margaret pulled the car into the wide circular drive, and then she and Josiah—my vampire shackles—escorted me inside.

"Miss Ehlert. Please, come this way." Conrad Abernathy, the patriarch of his growing vampire clan and Head Watcher of the jurisdiction, greeted us. Not wasting time with useless human chatter, he gave my hand a quick pat and then gestured to one of the many doors off the cavernous foyer. If he was surprised to see me at this late hour, he didn't show it. Then again, he'd been expecting me. I had yet to learn why, other than he had something for me.

"Thank you," I said. My heavy-booted plodding sounded like cannon fire in comparison to his graceful footfalls as I strode beside him. "Just wondering . . . am I in trouble? If I'm going to be in trouble with anyone, human or otherwise, I suppose it would be you."

Much to my annoyance, Mr. Abernathy laughed. "Why, may I ask, would you be in trouble?"

I wondered if he was baiting me. "Um, because I nearly attacked someone tonight?" He would find out about my little indiscretion soon enough, if he hadn't already, so there was no use trying to hide or deny it.

Mr. Abernathy patted my hand again. "But you didn't, and that is something to be proud of."

"Well, I would have if Josiah and Margaret hadn't interrupted me. I would have ripped out that guy's throat." I shuddered in recollection, appalled at how quickly my capacity for human empathy had already been buried under the predator's instincts.

"Blake," Margaret said, trailing behind. "Haven't you heard of quitting while you're ahead?"

"Huh?"

She offered a thin smile. "In other words, my father is the last person to whom you should be confiding your perverted fantasies."

"Perverted fantasies? I don't—"

Mr. Abernathy chuckled. "No worries. I like you, Miss Ehlert. However, listen to me," he said in a sudden cautionary tone as he leaned in closer. "Every new vampire must learn his or her way. As your adopted family, we will guide you in whatever way we can. You must make the right choices in this, your new life."

I didn't know how to respond, which was just as well, seeing as how Mr. Abernathy didn't give me the chance. Instead, he pushed the swinging door inward, holding it open so that I could enter before him.

"Allow me to show you what it is I have managed to conjure up," he said, his breath warm against the back of my neck.

We entered the kitchen with its fluorescent lighting glinting off the hard edges of the stainless-steel appliances. Stepping forward with cautious curiosity, I took in the gleaming countertops, barely stifling my gasp when my eyes landed on the woman seated in a leather reclining chair on the opposite side of the room.

"Is she . . . what I think she is?" I asked, pointing a finger in the woman's direction and whispering as though afraid she might hear.

Mr. Abernathy raised his hands in a comedic shrug. "We are in the kitchen, are we not?"

"Fair enough." I cleared my throat, feeling as though something was lodged deep inside.

Mr. Abernathy continued as though I hadn't spoken, moving past me to rest a hand on the woman's shoulder. She didn't move. She didn't even blink.

"Mr. Larsen, with whom you are acquainted, has a keen nose for blood. While you were still human, he mentioned that he had never smelled blood quite like yours."

A vampire with a super-sensitive nose, whose job it was to sniff out potential donors with O-negative blood, was called a Seeker. My mother's real estate partner, Andrew Larsen, was just such a vampire. It wasn't the first time I'd been told, in so many words, that I smelled good.

Mr. Abernathy reached out and traced a line down the curve of my neck with the tip of his finger. There was a sensuous curl to his lips. I flinched away from his touch, which thankfully recalled him to his senses. He let his hand fall to his side without apology.

"This is Sharon," he said. "I have her often. I can assure you she is wonderful, though admittedly not as wonderful as how you would have tasted, I am sure."

Revulsion rippled down my spine as I stared at the woman sitting silent and seemingly lifeless before me. Drinking blood from a bag was one thing—I was still getting used to how bizarre that was—but drinking blood fresh from the source? I didn't think I was ready for that, despite what had almost happened with the guy in the car. I supposed I was still too human to care, after all.

"It's what we do," Mr. Abernathy said, as though reading my thoughts. I looked sharply at him, nervous that he had some vampire ability I didn't know about. He simply shrugged and added, "I have eyes, Miss Ehlert. I see your disgust."

He put his arm around my shoulders. "You are new. No doubt you'll quickly overcome the aversion. Though I was going to say it's admittedly more fun when they run," he confided. "Adrenaline is a most superior condiment. It adds a bit of spice to the flavor."

"When they run?" I said. "But I thought—"

Mr. Abernathy let go of me and chuckled. "Forgive me for recalling the days before vampires became civilized, when we were still allowed to hunt. When we were not as . . . limited as we are now."

"Oh," I whispered.

He moved to the far side of the room, though I stayed where I was, keeping my eyes on the woman in the chair. Mr. Abernathy pressed a button on the wall intercom and leaned in to speak. "June, I apologize for rousing you from your sleep. Would you be a dear and assist me with Sharon?"

"Certainly, Mr. Abernathy," came an immediate muffled reply.

Sharon continued to stare blankly ahead. Moving closer, I waved my hand in front of her face to get her attention, but she didn't blink or even register that there was anyone else in the room.

"What's wrong with her?"

"Nothing's wrong with her. She's been compelled," came Margaret's terse reply from the doorway.

I turned to look at her. "John told me he compels Donors to think they're doing a good deed by donating blood."

Margaret sniffed. "John Kelly is much too nice." I waited for further explanation, but Margaret did nothing more than give me a teasing half-grin. Clearly, she was in no mood to elaborate.

"Sharon is one of us," Mr. Abernathy said in a low, quiet voice, as though imparting some secret.

"One of us," I said. "You mean she's a vampire? I didn't know vampires could be Donors."

Margaret sniffed again. "Sharon is human. What my father meant is that she belongs to us."

"You mean she's your property?"

"For tax purposes, she is the first-floor maid," Mr. Abernathy clarified. "There's also the second-floor maid, the pool boy, and June."

There was no hiding my shock. "June, your secretary?"

"I prefer the term personal assistant," Mr. Abernathy replied.

"Personal assistant. You mean to tell me that June is a Donor?"

"Of course she is," Margaret said, as though it were obvious to everyone but me.

And maybe it should have been obvious. Thomas did say that he'd offered many years ago to turn June, only to be refused. I guess she had ultimately valued her humanity more than the prospect of spending eternity as an immortal.

"Does June know she's a Donor?" I asked. "Or do you compel her to cooperate?"

Margaret sighed in exasperation. "Yes, she knows she's a Donor." She then gave me a look as though I were a disappointment to the entire vampire race. "I think becoming an immortal has upset the delicate balance of your mind. I was under the impression you were intelligent."

"Now, now," Mr. Abernathy said to his daughter. He turned to me and added by way of explanation, "June belongs to Thomas, and Thomas alone."

"In other words," Margaret chimed in, "keep your fangs to yourself unless you want to incur Thomas's wrath."

My stomach recoiled at the thought of drinking the woman's blood. "I would never—"

Margaret held up her hand. "Never is a very long time when you are what we are. It would serve you well to remember that."

As if speaking of June had conjured her, she pushed through the door, still half-asleep and squinting at the harsh lighting. She stopped in her tracks, her hand covering her heart when her eyes found me.

"I thought I was seeing a ghost!" she exclaimed.

She wrapped her arms around me, heedless of the other two vampires in the room. I wondered if she ever feared for her life, or if she'd grown so accustomed to the monsters she had lived with for decades that she considered them family.

June brushed my hair away from my face. "Are you well?" she asked, searching my eyes. The last time she'd seen me, Josiah had just finished using me as a human blood bag.

"I'd wager she is hungry," said Thomas, entering behind her.

"You don't want to know what Josiah and I caught her doing," said Margaret, who was obviously dying to tattle about my reckless behavior.

"If I don't want to know, then don't bring it up," Thomas said. "Do us all a favor and keep the commentary to yourself."

"I wasn't about to do anything," I protested. "It was just a misunderstanding."

"A misunderstanding?" said Margaret, brows lifted in comic disbelief. "You were about to make a meal of that disgusting little cretin."

"I was not! He was being a jerk. I just wanted to scare him."

June patted my arm and then said to Mr. Abernathy, "I'll prepare Sharon right away. A little nip will do her good."

"I told you," Margaret gloated. "Even June can see that you're starved, and she's human."

Biting my lip to keep from saying something I might regret, I glared at Margaret. I wasn't going to win this argument, or likely any argument, involving her. Margaret, apparently losing interest in the proceedings, left without another word.

Thomas sidled next to me. "Is it true? Did you almost bite a human? You know that's against the law."

"Thomas," June said as she swabbed the pale inside of Sharon's limp arm with an alcohol wipe. "Be considerate of Blake's feelings. This is a difficult time for her. Don't pry into business that is not your own."

"It is my business if she endangers herself or others. And besides," he added with a grin in my direction, "she's my friend. Someone has to look out for her."

"That may be true. However," June said, tossing the used wipe into the garbage. "It's rude. You should apologize."

Thomas gave me a sideways look. "Sorry," he said, clearly humoring her.

"Don't worry about it," I replied. "John said this dire need for blood won't be so bad after a while."

"He's right," Thomas said. "You only have to wait it out."

"I can't keep more than a few bags in a cooler under my bed. I'm always hungry. And I get cranky when I'm hungry."

"Every new vampire has different needs, just like every new human child," Mr. Abernathy explained as he looked on. "Bagged blood tends not to be as satisfying as blood fresh from the source, which is why we keep Donors on hand."

When I gave him a questioning look he added, "Once you drink from Sharon, I think you'll understand."

June turned to me. "Are you ready?"

I took a deep breath. "As ready as I'll ever be."

June held out the flexible plastic tube dangling from Sharon's arm that would have otherwise connected to the bag. "Am I supposed to drink out of it like a straw?" I asked.

June gestured to Thomas, who produced a wine goblet from behind his back. "That's one way to go about it," he said. "Though some of us try to be a little more civilized."

He held the goblet steady under the mouth of the tube as it caught the quick-flowing blood. At the half-full mark, he stoppered the opening with his thumb and then passed the cup to me. "Cheers, my vampire friend."

As I brought the goblet to my mouth, I immediately smelled the blood. The fragrance cut through every other scent in the room and was redolent of good things, like milky coffee and doughy-sweet cinnamon buns that I remembered, and realized I missed, from my days as a human. My fangs descended and I hurriedly closed my lips around the rim of the cup in embarrassment.

As I tipped the goblet, the blood rushed over my tongue, and my mind's eye exploded with visions that were not my own. Coffee and cinnamon buns. Yes, I could taste them now as I closed my eyes. The musk of cologne. The feel of a man's rough, unshaven cheek against my face and then the soft warmth of lips against mine. A book in my hand, the pages crisp and new. Morning sunshine and the feeling of utter contentment. How was this even possible?

"She likes it."

I opened my eyes to find Josiah leaning casually against the far counter, watching me with an intensity that made me flush.

"You don't need to be her sire to know that," Thomas said.

I lowered the goblet. "I hate the term sire even more than the word maker."

"Then what am I to you?" Josiah replied.

"How about a royal pain in my—"

"Keep drinking," June said. "I don't think you've had enough."

Josiah continued to stare at me in deep contemplation, as though I were a puzzle in need of working out. "She is angry."

"No sh—"

"Drink," June insisted.

I returned the goblet to my mouth and half-turned so I didn't have to look at everyone else in the room, but that didn't stop them from talking about me as though I wasn't there.

"Of course she is angry," came Conrad Abernathy's calm reply. "It's only natural. Every new vampire mourns the life he or she has left behind, especially in the face of eternity. Despite being an immortal being, there are things Miss Ehlert will never be or get to do now."

"At least she has love."

I turned at the sound of his voice, momentarily forgetting the cup in my hand and spilling blood on the impeccable white-tiled floor. I launched myself at the vampire, throwing my arms around his neck, not realizing until then how worried I'd been about him. He finally wrapped his arms around me and squeezed.

"Are you okay?" I said into his ear.

"Aye. I'm fine."

Josiah took the goblet from my hand and gave Ian a disapproving look. "Why are you here?"

Ian returned the look and answered with a steely edge to his voice. "I heard the lass. You can't fault me for my concern."

"You can see she is well." Josiah encircled my upper arm with his hand and disentangled me from Ian's grip. "No thanks to you, in case you have forgotten."

"I haven't," Ian answered.

"Now, now," Mr. Abernathy said in a placating tone. "The time for pointing fingers has long since passed. Need I remind you, Mr. Butler, of your part in Miss Ehlert becoming one of us?"

Josiah's jaw hardened and he straightened his broad shoulders. "I did as I was ordered, and not because I could not control myself."

Ian narrowed his eyes, ready with a response on the tip of his tongue, but Mr. Abernathy cut him off. "Mr. McAvoy is a member of our family now, and I expect him to be treated as such. I suggest you, Mr. Butler, find another outlet for your enmity."

"Then may I suggest he keeps his hands off my progeny?"

"Your progeny?" I made a gagging sound. "Seriously, just stop already."

"If I didn't know better," Ian said to Josiah, "I would say you're jealous of my relationship with the lass. She might hate me for biting her, but she hates you even more for being the one to turn her. She wanted it to be John, not you."

Josiah's face hardened underneath the bronze stubble and he stormed out of the room. Thomas laughed. "I think Josiah bit off more than he could chew when he agreed to sire you," Thomas said to me.

"There is no need for jealousy," Mr. Abernathy said. "Mr. Butler has never sired a vampire before now. I'm afraid he's having a hard time adjusting."

"What do you mean, he's having a hard time adjusting?" I asked.

Mr. Abernathy glanced at the door still swinging on its hinges. "The emotions of a newborn vampire are nothing short of overwhelming. Every sire is attuned to them, just like a new parent is attuned to the needs of his offspring."

"He's right," Ian cut in. "When I first turned John, I thought I'd go mad. That's why I ran. I thought the distance would make everything better."

"Did it?" I asked. It wouldn't be such a bad thing if Josiah took off for a little while. Or maybe John and I could skip town and put everyone and everything else behind us.

Ian shook his head. "For a time it did, but in the end, distance only made it worse."

"Mr. Butler is a volatile vampire by nature," Mr. Abernathy said. "He's been a vampire for a long time, though, and has learned to keep that ire in check. However, I believe turning you has awakened that side of him. The two of you are feeding off each other's emotions. Your hunger, in part, is a result of the need to temper your emotions."

"So how I'm feeling now, all this anger and stuff, it won't last?" I asked hopefully.

"You and Mr. Butler will have to work together to learn how to manage your emotions. But yes, it will weaken. Given time."

"How much time?"

Mr. Abernathy shrugged. "Oh, well. There's no way to tell for sure. A few decades, perhaps."

"A few decades?" I exclaimed. "But that's, like, forever!"

Massaging my temples, I wondered what I'd gotten myself into when I agreed to become a vampire. Then again, I'd done so to save John's life, and mine. I wouldn't allow myself to regret that decision. I couldn't.

Ian's arm circled my waist. "My connection to John is strong, aye? But it's like a constant vibration—white noise in the background, do ye understand? I can feel him, always there, but it's only when there's a sudden spike in his emotions that I notice."

I nodded. In the face of forever, I could only hope that the next few decades would fly by as quickly as the seconds in a minute.

Turning to look at Sharon, I felt a sudden pang of sympathy for the poor woman whose memories I'd all but stolen. I wondered if I'd always feel sympathy for my human counterparts or if that would diminish over the years, too. Would I end up like Margaret, cold and unfeeling?

"I'm done with her," I said, feeling suddenly disgusted with myself.

"Are you sure?" asked June. "Your coloring is still not quite right, and I don't think—"

"She said she's done!" bellowed Josiah from somewhere in the next room.

"I, um. I should be going now. I've got to get home." I looked tentatively at Mr. Abernathy. "Unless you need me for anything else?"

Mr. Abernathy folded his hands in front of him and turned the full force of his paternal gaze on me, and I had to resist the urge to lay my head against his chest and cry. He was a vampire, after all, and I had no illusions about the sort of man he was underneath the fatherly facade.

"No. I do not require anything of you at this particular moment, Miss Ehlert." He leaned in then and whispered in my ear. "Take a moment to thank Mr. Butler, won't you? He is the one who suggested you might need additional sustenance. You may love Mr. Kelly, but Mr. Butler, as your maker, will always be more attuned to your needs."

He straightened and snapped his fingers in his son's direction. "I'll have Thomas return you home. Given the circumstances, I think it best not to test the boundaries of Mr. Butler's kindness anymore tonight."

"Good idea," I agreed.

Ian's hand snaked out as I walked by and he pulled me against his body. His breath hitched in his chest as though he wanted to say something, but he stiffened. I realized his hesitation was due to the other vampires in the room.

"Take care of yourself, aye? And tell John not to forget me."

I nodded against his chest. "I will."

***** 

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