Before Kay even fully woke, something seemed off, and her senses took stock of her surroundings without her moving.

How was there not chilly bedrock beneath her body? Warmth encased her body, and no manacle enclosed her wrist.

She'd almost forgotten the comfort of a bed and feared opening her eyes.

What fresh hell had Azera cooked up for her?

Panic steadily built like a dam about to overflow, but she took a deep breath, peeked through her lids, and blinked, slowly sitting upright.

This was an actual room, and she rested on an old-fashioned four-poster bed. The soft duvet was thick, hand stitched, and expensive.

The coverlet and sheets were made of Egyptian cotton with a high thread count, and her mother would have drooled over them. The thought sent a shaft of pain through her heart and constricted her throat, but she did not allow herself to linger on the memories.

The vanity table matched the bed in style. Plush carpets covered the floors, and two doors with ornate handles led off to the side, while a dark wooden one with a sturdy knob and intricately engraved patterns would exit into the hallway.

Reluctant to leave the comfortable, decadent bed, she had to know where she was and what this meant for her, and her feet sank into the carpet. Instead of going to the door that would lead outside, she explored the other two.

The first opened into a desolately empty walk-in closet; predictably, the other led to a lavish bathroom with a shower and a deep tub. Without a second thought, she shed the pajamas and took a moment to figure out the fancy shower before stepping under the spray and allowing the heated water to pummel her shoulders and neck.

She randomly picked from the various shampoos, conditioners, soaps, and creams to sort herself out.

Deodorants, body spray, and perfumes hid under the sink, but she was not a perfume type of girl. She'd been unable to stand sharp smells as a human, and it was worse for her now.

***

Wrapped in fluffy white towels, she returned to the room, having spied a hair dryer, and with her hair longer than ever, it needed drying.

She paused at the door.

Someone had made her bed and laid out a clean set of clothes on the covers. Although not exactly her taste, it was in her size, and she was not about to complain.

How the hell had she not heard someone enter the room?

The leather pants were too tight for her liking and clung to her thighs before flaring out a bit around the ankles. A black tank top clung to her as if it were painted on, but it was not uncomfortable, and at least she wasn't naked.

Never a fan of thongs, she was instantly uncomfortable, and the bra was designed to show off her boobs, doing a little too good a job.

She eyed the black suspenders warily, but the pants had no belt and were already riding down, and with a sigh, she put them on, glancing at herself in the mirror. With her hair tied in a bun and in this getup, she looked indecently sexy in a way that would have horrified Daniella. Her mother would have hated it, and Doreen would have been obsessed.

Poor Doreen, how guilty she must still feel, naturally assuming Daniella's disappearance was her fault when it had nothing to do with her.

***

Kay sat on the bed and pulled on the matching leather boots. They were short, with the heel a little over two inches. Not a choice she would make, but they were snug, soft, and surprisingly comfortable.

Azera would not go through all this trouble for some elaborate torture. It was more in sync with her personality to reason her mistress had found another use for her—a thought she chose not to dwell on. Or her mistress tired of her and sold her. It was unlikely but possible.

Azera would part with anything for the right price, but currency had no value to her. She preferred a different kind of coin, one that put people within her power and indebted them to her in ways that tied their lives to her.

On the other hand, if she wanted something badly enough, Azera had no qualms about handing over any person under her power.

Whoever she now belonged to would be just as perverted as Azera, and judging from these clothes, they didn't know or didn't care that she could turn into a full succubus. Whatever the hell that meant, although she had a pretty good idea.

***

The door opened, and a woman entered, dressed much like her but with a short black jacket. A dainty, expensive watch settled on her left wrist, and several rings decorated her elegant hands.

The signet reminded Kay of something, but she could not put her finger on it.

Beautiful, a little tightly wound, and just a wee bit hostile with dark chocolate hair and eyes so brown they looked black, something about her shouted danger, although she was almost petite compared to Kay.

The woman's scent differed from anything she'd encountered and seemed odd.

The ring.

Akira had worn one like it, but the background was a blue emerald. Azera had one, too, but made of black onyx, and this was a blood-red ruby.

Vampires.

"Come, Marcus does not like to be kept waiting." That tone held power with the ease of someone used to being obeyed.

Who the hell was Marcus?

Kay followed the woman from the room out of habit. Two guards followed them when they entered the hallway, but the woman waved them off.

They hesitated briefly, then stood down like puppies who were told to stay, and they were not happy about it, not knowing what they were supposed to do.

Although the door had been unlocked, they had stood guard outside it.

"Go find Denise. Marcus wants her to visit Deana for the weekend," the lady commanded, and they moved with such speed that it looked like they had disappeared.

Kay blinked.

She had never seen anything move like that, and immortals were fast.

"Keep up, Kay, daughter of Thane," the vampire quipped, and she hurried her step, not liking the way the latter part of the phrase bound her to her "father."

The shorter woman walked as if on a schedule, and Kay openly stared at furniture, a charming blend of antique and new revealing a woman's hand. It was neither as impersonal as Akira's home nor as lavish and garish as Azera's.

***

The woman knocked on a heavy door, and without waiting, she opened it, revealing a massive study dominated by a large solid wood desk and many bookcases against the walls.

It was dark outside, and a man stared out at the lights in the garden but turned on his heel when he heard them.

Although also dressed in leather, he wore a formal shirt and a tie. Tall with wide shoulders, lean hips, and dark brown hair with lighter highlights cut short and neat, he looked like a movie star.

The chiseled perfection of his face intrigued her, those midnight eyes seemed to stare into her soul, but the coiled tension of his manner screamed danger.

Indecently sexy in a bad boy way, this was a man Nero would have instantly disliked. He hated it when men were more manly or handsome than he was.

Oddly, she suspected the vampire male would dislike Nero as well. Why did she think he would find the dark fae inferior and irritating him?

"Thank you, Cat," he dismissed the woman, and she bowed before closing the door behind her. Taking the cue, Kay curtsied.

He was obviously important, and these people still did such things and expected it from others.

"Did Azera explain our deal to you?" Marcus demanded without preamble, and she straightened herself, careful not to look him in the eye, something Azera hated,

"No, sir," Kay admitted.

His mouth set in an angry line, and his eyes darkened, but the emotion was not directed at her.

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