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Chapter 3

Lawrence didn’t look into her eyes.

He never did.

Instead, he concentrated on her wrist, which provided him nourishment. It was small, unadorned. So very, very fragile. His victim had emerged from Murphy’s Pub, her steps a bit unsteady. It had been too easy. He hadn’t even beckoned to her. He’d merely stood at the mouth of this alley, waiting. She had come to him. She’d asked him for a lighter, but when he’d responded that he had something else in mind, she’d followed him back here without question.

At least she wouldn’t remember their encounter. The bite of his fangs would ensure that.

The Balance.

Lady Isobel, Alec’s wife, had both doomed and saved them with her curse of immortality—and the counter-curse she’d made in an attempt to reverse it. Rather than revoke their eternal life and appalling hunger, the counter-curse had instead hidden them, and given them what amounted to checks and balances. The Balance, as they called it, had created the Cheld and ensured vampires could walk the earth without being detected by any but the species created to temper them. Their victims’ wounds healed almost immediately, leaving no memory of the bite.

Pulling out and retreating his fangs, Lawrence watched the two small puncture wounds start to close over.

“I . . .” She looked at him and then glanced at Main Street at the other end of the alley, her brow furrowing. “How did I get here?”

That was quicker than usual.

“Where do you live?” he asked, ignoring her question.

Part of him hoped she wouldn’t answer. Really, she shouldn’t—

“Lincoln Ave.”

Two blocks from Toni.

“Come on,” he said, wincing when she followed.

The fog would only get worse until she slept. Tomorrow, she’d wake with nothing more than a vague memory of walking home, if that.

They walked past the ice cream shop, a block before . . .

Herhouse.

The house fit Toni perfectly. Slightly quirky, its bright purple siding stood out even among the other brightly colored townhomes and storefronts. She’d left the wedding before him, but none of the lights were on. He knew her enough to know she rarely retired at this hour.

Was she at Tyler’s?

Cursing himself for caring, he turned on Lincoln Avenue and walked the next few blocks in silence as his companion mumbled about her lack of memory.

“This is me,” she said with a meaningful glance, one he pretended not to understand.

“Goodnight then—”

“But do you want to—”

“And in the future, don’t give your address to strange men you meet in alleyways.” It was his fault entirely, yet he hoped she’d take the advice nonetheless.

Without giving her a chance to respond, he wandered away, finding himself in front of the old bank. As he’d done before, Lawrence walked around to a side door and opened it easily. He’d picked the lock once, and it now stood open for him each time he returned.

A sensation struck him as he stepped farther into the empty room. He only had a moment to process it—someone is coming—before she stepped in after him and closed the door behind her. The second time that night she’d snuck up on him.

“What the hell?”

Smiling into the darkness, he turned toward his sister’s voice. “Surely you’ve found me in stranger places than this?”

She sneezed, vampires not immune to dust. “You mean like the time I hunted you down in Siena and found you in the Palio di Siena riding bareback in the Drago contrada?”