Only queens wore furs. I started to kneel. Nadia’s voice cut through, sharp and intrusive.
“What? No! Don’t—stand up! That’s just Lena.”
I obeyed, though it felt improper to meet royalty upright.
Lena blinked at me. “Wow. He listens. You already have him trained. Impressive.” Then she held up a bottle of clear liquid. “I brought holy water, just in case.”
Nadia groaned. “That won’t be necessary.”
Lena’s gaze shifted to me, and she inhaled sharply. I braced myself for fear. Instead, I saw admiration.
“You weren’t kidding,” she said to Nadia, circling me like a general inspecting a new recruit. “He’s like if a Renaissance statue started a fight club. He looks like he was carved from marble.”
I bowed stiffly. “I am Lord Cristian D’Archeval of Essex County.”
She grinned, entirely unthreatened. “Cool. I’m Lena of Uber driver to pay RN student loan debt.”
I stared, uncertain how to respond to such a title. “I do not know that house.”
“Don’t encourage her,” Nadia muttered.
Lena winked at me. I stared back. It seemed like a provocation. Or a challenge.
“Is she propositioning me?” I whispered to Nadia.
“No. That’s just how she acts.”
“I see,” I said, though I did not.
She radiated confidence. Brash. Amusing. Not at all fearful. Queen Lena would make an acceptable first meal if she would allow it—but she didn’t smell nearly as intoxicating as Nadia. Nothing did.
Lena planted her hands on her hips. “So, are the fangs real or part of your vampire cosplay?”
I decided to demonstrate. “Would you like to see them?”
Before Nadia could intervene, I bared them.
Lena screamed. Then laughed in delight. “Hot and terrifying. You really hit the jackpot, Nads.”
Nadia turned pink. “He’s not my jackpot.”
I straightened, unsure whether to be insulted or relieved. “I don’t know what half of these modern terms mean, but I am too flustered to ask for clarification.”
Lena grinned. “He’s polite, too. Youreallyneed to keep this one.”
Nadia groaned into her hands. “This summer is going to kill me.”
Lena shrugged. “Or spice up your life. Fifty-fifty.”
I stood there, still bewildered, still hungry, still trying to determine why the mortals around me seemed to treat chaos as a form of recreation. But when Nadia met my gaze, her cheeks slightly pink, I felt that inconvenient pulse in my chest again.
And I realized: chaos might suit me.
I retreated to the kitchen for the illusion of control.
It was a hollow exercise.
The hunger was worsening. Every hour in this bright, humming house pressed against my restraint like a blade. Every time Nadia laughed, my fangs ached. Every time she brushed past me, I imagined her shoulder under my mouth, her pulse thrumming as I drank until her eyes went soft and unfocused.
