“Andrew,” he says, not breaking eye contact with me, “get this place cleaned up.”
The male vampire hovering nearby nods.
This place? What place?
Where am I?
I glance around—at least as well as I can with Lucian’s hands still on me—and I see the rusty metal beams and half-caved-in roof of a warehouse.
How did I get here?
Lucian’s fingers dig deeper, and there’s a warning in his tone. “Monty.”
A woman with vibrant red hair and ruby painted lips steps into view, hovering close to Lucian’s shoulder. Her name springs from my fuzzy memory. Vittoria. That’s who she is. Vittoria, Lucian’s second in command. “Be careful, Lucian, that one had teeth before you turned her. She’s going to be a monster.”
“Not if I can help it,” Lucian says.
Turned me?
Wait, what?
“Leave us, Vittoria,” he orders. “I’ll handle her.”
With a grunt, she saunters out as Andrew and some others start to clean up the bodies and the blood from the place.
I can see and hear and smell everything, like the place is lit up bright and filled with microphones. Like all the scents are dialed up past eleven.
“Monty.”
“Elliot,” I snap.
“Elliot. You are going through changes. Your body is trying to adjust to my blood. It’s going to take time.”
“W-what?” His words spin within me and panic begins to climb up my throat.
“I am your maker now. You are mine, my responsibility to teach, to control. At least until you settle into this new version of yourself.”
The seconds before I reopened my eyes slam into me like a freight train—Benicio de Santis, the ambush, the gun…
And I…died.
But then…how am I notdead?
I blink, gaze sharpening on the vampire in front of me.No.He didn’t. He wouldn’t— He?—
White-hot fury blazes inside my chest. “You… You turned me…into…into…” It can’t be true.It can’t be true.“You made me like you?”
“You were dying.” He gets off me and pulls me to my feet. It seems leisurely, slow, but I think it’s fast. Preternaturally so.
I think about Nell, the now-dead love he could’ve saved. He could have given her the lifeblood of the vampire, the thing that scrapes through my veins, changing me from within, making me mad with hunger. Lucian could have done that. But he didn’t. He said he loved her. He gave her a choice and respected her decision.
Not me. He didn’t givemea choice. He turned me.
Bitterness bubbles. The only thing overpowering the fury is this unrelenting hunger. It’s a fever in my veins, a raging tornado in my mind.
It’s all I can think of.
“I want tofeed,” I say, and I hate how desperate my voice sounds.
