Afterlight

Part 5 Temptations

The night dragged by painfully slowly, and I found myself constantly looking over my shoulder. I knew that if he wanted to, Eligius could kill me; part of me sincerely believed he did want to. That skepticism royally pissed me off. I didn’t like my life being invaded, especially by a guy so freaking hot and lethal at the same time, he made me burn every time he got close to me. No lie. I’d wanted him from the moment I’d seen him through the storefront. I always was attracted to the bad boy, but this was ridiculous. I supposed he possessed some sort of mind control; it was the only reason I could think of to explain why he made me feel like I was in freaking heat. Again — that pissed me off. I didn’t like being out of control, especially when it came to guys. That had happened once in my life — never, ever again.

My apartment is fairly spacious for a historic-district riverfront structure, but when crammed inside with a vampire, I felt like it was a dollhouse. He sat sprawled on the sofa, looking like any other ordinary dude with a remote in hand, flipping through various channels that included all forms of male interest: MTV, motor sports, extreme surfing, CSI. Yet he watched me — my every move — and was blatant about it. I’d already had a beer and leftover lo mein, and by midnight my insides were crawling with nervous energy. I wanted to go for a run but knew without even mentioning it that if I’d wanted to do that, I wouldn’t do it without a chaperone. So instead of a run through the historic district, I opted to work out extra hard with the bag. I felt like hitting something, beating the holy hell out of something, and working so hard at it that my lungs caught fire. Maybe then I’d be able to go to sleep and lose the horrible images in my head of Seth.

I grabbed the empty carton of lo mein off the counter, dropped it into the trash, and headed to my bedroom, Eligius’ eyes following me the whole way. I ignored him and shut the bedroom door to block his penetrating stare. Kicking my boots off, I yanked my shirt over my head and pulled off my skirt, dropping both into the wicker basket in the corner, along with my socks. A shudder shocked me, and I didn’t even have to turn around to know Eligius was behind me, standing in my doorway. I spared him no more than a quick glimpse over my shoulder, and yep — there he was, leaned against the door-frame in a laid-back guy manner, arms crossed over his chest, head cocked, his eyes fastened directly on me, and no shame in evidence. I wore a black lace bra and black boy-short panties. It wasn’t like I was naked, not that I’d care about that, either. I turned back around.

“I was strip-searched three times by my thirteenth birthday, so don’t think for a second you’re intimidating me,” I said without looking at him. I pulled on a pair of tight black yoga pants that dropped below my hips, and a white ribbed tank that barely covered my breasts. “You can look, if that’s what gets you off.” I spread my legs in a wide stretch and dropped my head down to peer at him from between them. “But don’t touch.” I grabbed my ankles and pulled, extending the muscles in my hamstrings, arms, and back. Rising on my toes, I stretched my calves, then stood straight. I glanced at him. “I’m no part of a contract. Savvy?” In the back of my brain, I knew my cockiness was a bold move; I was teasing a freaking vampire, for God’s sake. Somehow, though, I just couldn’t help it. Eligius provoked me, and it pissed me off that he was in my house. I moved to my iPod station, chose Breaking Benjamin’s Dear Agony, selected “I Will Not Bow,” and cranked up the volume.

“Eli. Only my parents call me Eligius,” he said, and I heard it inside my head.

I pulled on my gloves, watching him with wary eyes, and I didn’t respond. His look was anything but wary. I felt the room close in and fill with one hundred percent intense male sexuality, and although it was tough, I turned my back and started punching the bag. After a few minutes, I sank completely into my workout; the music pounded as I kicked hard and struck fast. I didn’t forget for a second that Eli was behind me or that my baby brother wasn’t coming home. I hit the bag hard, as though it was the very thing responsible for it all, and I felt the shock of it vibrate through the muscles in my arms. Desperation inundated me, and I don’t know how long I worked out, but by the time my lungs seized, and my muscles were on freaking fire, tears fell furiously from my eyes. Angered — at myself, Eli, the Arcoses, and everyone else I could think of to blame for Seth’s absence — I pulled my gloves off with my teeth and threw them hard across the room. Without a word or a glance, I swore, slung open the double doors to the small balcony, and stepped out into the night. I fought not to literally break down and sob. With my hands I gripped the cool wrought iron until the skin over my knuckles pulled taut, and I squeezed my eyes tightly shut. “Fuck,” I said between clenched teeth, astounded by the rage building inside of me. I wanted to scream, shake the iron railing loose, and throw it into the river. I leaned my head down to my shoulder and rubbed the tears off my cheek.

“You’d better pull it together, Riley. You can’t be losing it in this game and expect to win,” Eli said quietly, so close I could feel him crowd me in the confined area of my balcony. At the same time his body pressed against my back; he placed an arm on either side of me, his hands next to mine on the rail, bracing himself. I reacted, my reflexes leapt, and I grabbed his arm with both hands. Had he not had vampiric strength to stop me, I would have easily flipped him over the edge of the balcony. I let go of him, heart racing wildly. He simply stood, pressed hard against me, keeping me prisoner; he was aroused, and I felt that, too. It enraged me and turned me on at the same time.

“The monster in me is still there, just below the surface,” he continued, as if my reaction hadn’t fazed him at all, and his lips barely grazed the skin on the side of my neck. I shuddered, and I know he felt it. “Never forget that. Even with your Gullah magic inside you, I can smell your unique blood,” he said, his mouth next to my ear. He inhaled a long, deep breath. “You have no idea how much of a temptation you are to me, Riley Poe,” he said, the slight French accent making his voice erotic. “No . . . idea how much control I truly have not to simply taste what rushes through your veins, with barely more than a paper-thin layer of skin to stop me.” I shivered as his breath rushed over my neck.

“That and a fucking contract,” I muttered, and with what strength I had, I pushed hard against him to escape; he easily turned me around, and now we were face-to-face, body to body, and panic etched into my brain. Exerting the slightest pressure, he bent me backward until I felt the cool iron handrail press against my back. I felt every hard ridge and muscle Eli possessed pressing into me. And I mean every one. His eyes searched mine, then dropped to my mouth, where they lingered. “Vampiric cravings aren’t the only ones I possess, but they’re the only ones I can halfway control,” he said. “I’ve still got the sex drive of a healthy, hot-blooded twenty-five-year-old guy, heightened times a hundred by what I am.” He dropped his head close, his lips a breath away. “Don’t tease me again, Riley, unless you mean it. I can’t promise that kind of control.” He lifted his head and stared, his eyes dark as he searched mine. “I don’t think you could handle me.”

Desire and fury raged within me, such a lethal combination that I thought I’d come if he pressed his crotch against mine just a little harder, held it there a little longer. I wanted him, and I hated myself for it — especially knowing he was just effing with me. “Get off of me,” I said quietly. “Now.” Prick.

The corner of his mouth lifted slightly, and he moved away from me. I pushed past him on shaky legs and waited for him to clear the balcony; then I shut and locked the doors. I started for the bathroom, but his next words stopped me. I didn’t look at him.

“We’ve got three weeks, and despite what your brother’s becoming, the desire to return to what’s familiar to him is strong. His transformation grows every day as the quickening progresses — get it? Once the cycle is complete, and he makes his first kill — ”

I nearly choked at his blatant honesty, and I looked at him over my shoulder and interrupted his chilling words. “Okay — I get it. And I promise you — all abilities I possess to fight and save my brother, I’ll use, without hesitation. I might not be a vampire, but I’m as strong as hell, and I don’t scare easy. I want him home, here, with me. I want Seth back, no matter what it takes.” My voice cracked, and I stuck out my chin. “And I’ll goddamn get him.”

Eli watched me for several seconds, as though trying to determine whether I was bullshitting or for real. He decided. “I believe you,” he said, and I could have sworn I heard admiration in his voice.

“Good. Now, can I pee and shower without you watching?” I said.

With his fingers he shoved his long bangs out of his eyes. “Yeah, I guess.” He gave a slight grin.

I nodded. “Good. Stay out of my personal belongings. When I’m done, we need to talk. There are things I’ve got to know, and ground rules that need to be set. Agreed?”

He gave a nod but didn’t budge from where he stood. “Agreed.”

Rolling my eyes in part frustration because it looked like he was going to stand in my bedroom until I finished, I headed to the bathroom and shut the door. The water was freezing, but I needed it — dammit, I’d never before had a reaction to a guy like the one I’d had with Eli. To think with a clear head, and to be able to look him in the eye during a serious ground-rule-making discussion without screwing his brains out in my mind — that was what had to happen. That was what would happen. How could I have such a reaction to a guy who didn’t even have a freaking pulse? I wasn’t even sure I’d make it through the night alive. With my teeth chattering, I hurried through my shower and was seriously grateful I’d spent the cash for laser hair removal on my legs, bikini and pubic area, and underarms; I couldn’t afford razor nicks at this point.

Finished, I twisted my wet hair in a towel and wrapped another around me. When I walked out of the bathroom, I saw that Eli had left the room. I was only mildly disappointed. After digging in my dresser, I pulled on a pair of cotton sleep pants and a black tank, and went to find my keeper. I found him flipping channels, once more sprawled on the sofa. I safely kept my distance, parking in the overstuffed chair kitty-corner from him. The TV screen had Channel 11 News on, and I stopped in my tracks as another murder report was broadcast. A woman, late twenties, had last been seen leaving the SCAD campus at eleven the night before. Her body had just been found crammed between two parking meters on East Bay. I watched as another black plastic body bag was loaded into the coroner’s van. The screen went black, and Eli tossed the remote onto the cushion beside him. He regarded me just as thoroughly as I regarded him. Finally, he rubbed his jaw. “Ground rules?” he said.

I inclined my head to the TV. “Those murders,” I began. “They’re not . . . normal.”

“No.”

I tried to get the visions of dead bodies out of my head, pulled up my knees, and locked my arms around them. Time to change the subject, because if I dwelled on it, my mind would never settle down. “Okay. Ground rules,” I said, and locked gazes with Eli. “I pee alone and I shower alone. Some things need to remain a mystery, and those are two I firmly believe in.”

Eli looked amused, but he gave a nod. “Agreed. Next?”

“Don’t interfere with my business at Inksomnia — no matter how crude and rude some of my clients might seem. Trust me — I can handle myself, and I’ve done it for some time without your help. It’s my livelihood, how I plan on putting Seth through college.”

This time, he didn’t look so amused, if I was reading the hard stare correctly. “I’ll do my best,” he said.

I gave a nod. “Good.” I shifted in my seat, and I admit — I was tired. Drained. But I turned my full attention to Eli. “There are things I need to know,” I said.

His eyes never left mine. “And there are things I want to know.”

“Me first,” I claimed, and thought about it. I knew I couldn’t find out everything in one night — I had to eventually get to sleep. Eli nodded in agreement, and I thought for several seconds. “About the contract,” I started.“Your father said the Gullah provided necessities in exchange for guardianship. What . . . necessities?”

Eli rose and walked to the window facing the water-front. He stood, staring out into the night. “When my family and I first arrived from Paris, we were . . . wild, newlings, completely out of control.” He turned to me. “Fresh, young vampires, and we were ravenous. We killed . . . many.” He kept his eyes trained on me. “A lot of the yellow fever victims weren’t really yellow fever victims, if you know what I mean. Until the contract with the Gullah. Not all Gullah, mind you — just Preacher’s kinsmen. Those days were primitive; they supplied willing donors, and we took only what we needed to remain alive.”

Chills ran through my body at the thought of Eli and his family sucking blood from the necks of willing donors . I stared back. “So, what — they just lined up, like at a soup kitchen?”

“Sort of.”

“And none of the Gullah transformed?” I asked.

Eli pushed the curtains aside and glanced out the window. “No. They have to drink our blood to transform.”

I froze. “You mean Seth drank the blood of one of those freaks?”

“Yes.”

My insides hurt at the thought. “How did they make him do that? And when?”

Something outside must have had Eli’s attention; he continued to stare out of the window while he explained. “At the grave, Seth and his friends disturbed a vase containing the Gullah magic that kept the Arcoses entombed, mummified. Like I said, a hundred years ago things were a hell of a lot more primitive and not as effective as our methods today. Back then, once the magic was placed, it stayed as placed . . . for as long as it lasts. There’s no changing it.” He looked at me. “I can only imagine that Valerian and Victorian fed as soon as they gained enough strength, then beckoned their rescuers.”

“The woman found dead in the park?” I stated, already knowing the answer.

“Yes.”

My insides grew icy cold as I thought of the woman found at Daffin Park, and I slowly rose. “And the guy in the alley?”

Eli nodded. “Yeah.”

I drew a deep breath. I also recalled that first morning, when I’d found Seth asleep and his window wide-open. “Why didn’t they kill Seth?”

Eli shrugged. “The Arcoses are weak. They need help subduing victims until they’re fully restored.”

I stared, speechless as that information sunk in. “You mean my little brother is luring innocent people to their deaths?” Yanking the towel from my head, I shook the tangles in my wet hair with my fingers until it hung limp, nearly to my waist. I threw the towel down. “I can’t believe that.”

“You’d better believe it,” Eli said harshly, and drew closer. “A vampire, even in its weakest form, can manipulate a mortal’s mind and make him do anything they wish.”

We stood now, face-to-face, and yeah — I thought about how easily Eli could manipulate me. But this wasn’t about me. “Why aren’t we out looking for them now? Why can’t we just bring them in, and take them somewhere safe? Why can’t we just kill the Arcoses?” Desperate panic began to seize me again, and I didn’t know how to control it. “Why do we have to wait?”

Eli’s hands grasped my shoulders hard, and I noticed for the first time that his skin was surprisingly warm. “I’m going to say this one last time, and you’d better let it sink into that thick skull. While the Arcoses’ physical beings are weak, their minds are as strong as ever. They can’t know we’re looking for them, or Seth and his friends. They could command them to do things you wouldn’t want to imagine — and with just a single, solitary thought. They wouldn’t even have to be in the same room with them.” His eyes bored into mine. “They would do some messed-up shit and do it just because the Arcoses said to do it. Probably already have.”

My mind reeled with every horrible thing a human being could do to another, and I felt sick at the images. “Then what the hell do we do?” I asked, looking into the clearest pair of light blue eyes I’d ever seen. “What?”

“We watch, and we wait. Right now, Valerian and Victorian are too weak to move stealthily through the city. That’s why they’ve got Seth and his friends.”

I stiffened, getting more pissed by the second. “We wait and do nothing?”

The look on Eli’s face reeked of irritation. “No. We wait; we watch. We try to defuse as many situations as possible. They cannot be destroyed until their physical bodies are fully restored.” He looked hard at me. “It’s just the way it is.”

“Do they know you’re here?” I asked, and pulled away as thousands of worries and questions stormed my brain. “Do they know of the contract?”

Eli crossed his arms over his chest and stood, legs braced wide. “The contract was made after they were entombed, and Gullah magic has been in our system for nearly two centuries. They may suspect we’re here, but they can’t detect it. Our scent is masked — just like yours.”

“Can they recognize you? Like, do they know what you physically look like?” I asked.

For the first time in our heated, serious conversation, Eli’s expression lightened. “They know what we looked like in 1848. Together, as a family, they’d probably recognize us as the Duprés. Maybe. My mother and father look very much the same. But each of us in a crowd, or walking down the street?” He scrubbed his chin and shook his head. “No. Me, my brothers, and sister — we’ve evolved with the times.”

“Given that you probably used to wear . . . velvet bloomers, lace, high heels, and a ponytail, yeah — I guess you have changed a little,” I said, and gave a slight smile in hopes of easing the depressing mood. He must have been putting the mind-whammy on me; I was even beginning to feel somewhat better.

Eli actually grinned. “That look was hot back then.” He held his arms out. “Velvet coat with tails to match. Yeah, ruffles, too. I was badass.”

I chuckled, although I didn’t feel the joy of it go past my face. “Yeah, whatever. Wicked hot, I’m sure.”

“You’ve no idea.”

I studied Eligius Dupré and, again, had the hardest time seeing him as anything other than what faced me now: a hot guy with a hotter temper. A vision of his father’s frightening features flashed in my mind, and I tried to put the same horribleness to Eli. It didn’t work. I knew eventually I would have to see it for myself to believe it. Right now? Hell no. Even I could handle only so much at one time. Other than going on just his word, I couldn’t imagine him killing. In my gut, though, I knew just how wrong an assumption that truly was.

I looked at him. “Now?”

He stared back. “Now what?”

“You get your essentials in what way?” I had to ask; no way were the Gullah still forming a soup kitchen for their blood.

A smile pulled his mouth, showing beautiful, straight white teeth. “The members of Preacher’s community are still our donors, Riley, but like us, their methods have moved with the times. They have their own Red Cross, if you know what I mean. The blood comes packaged, and premixed with hoodoo magic.” His smile widened. “And only God knows what else. And yeah,” he said, meeting my gaze, “we pour it in a glass and drink it.”

I gave myself a quick reminder to think V8 if I ever watched him drink. Another thousand questions hit my brain at once, and yet my body screamed to get some sleep. I glanced at the clock hanging above the small stone fireplace — almost two in the morning. “I’m in overload,” I mumbled, then glanced at Eli. “I’ve got to get some sleep or I’ll be worthless tomorrow.” Reaching down, I picked the damp towel up off the floor. “Do you sleep at all?” He looked refreshed and ready to go.

“Yeah,” he said. “Just like in the movies, only not all day long.” Again, he smiled. “Just a couple of hours, and it’s when the sun is at its highest.”

I nodded. “Is that the same for the Arcoses? Seth?”

“No. Our genetic makeup is different, and a lot of it’s altered because of the hoodoo. The Arcoses will sleep from sunup to sundown, every day. Seth and the others aren’t fully transformed; they might wake up, and they might show up here.”

“Okay.” I moved toward my bedroom. “Do you eat?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder. “Other than your . . . Red Cross donations, I mean.”

“Yeah, I eat. It’s strictly for pleasure, though. We get no nutrients out of it, or feeling of fullness.”

Stifling a yawn, I motioned to the kitchen with my hand and continued down the hall to my room. At my door I stopped and looked out at him. “Do I have to bolt my door?”

Eli’s stare pinned me to the floor, and I was once again reminded that I didn’t see a third of what he really was. “It wouldn’t do any good.”

I stared at him for a few seconds. “Don’t piss me off.”

He grinned. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Get some sleep. You’re gonna need it.”

Without another word, I left Eli, brushed my teeth, pulled my hair into a high ponytail, and climbed into bed. In the dark I lay there, my eyes fixed on the beam of light from a streetlamp on River Street streaming in through the French doors of the balcony. Despite how exhausted I was, I knew I’d not find sleep very fast; there were things my brain refused to accept with such little explanation, and vampires were one of them. That one was parked in my living room watching NCIS was inconceivable. Yet . . . it was true. I believed it. Without having seen any proof other than, well, Gilles’ face totally contorting into something out of a friggin’ nightmare, his children and wife moving so fast that my eyes couldn’t follow, and Eli’s impossible strength.

Okay, I take it back. I guess all that was proof enough. It was weird, and for me to think that was something. I’d spent the last seven years under the influence of dark African magic; weird and unusual weren’t strangers to me. But when something like this happened — like what happened with Seth — hit so close to home, its in-your-face reality. My brother was — God, I hated to even think about what he might be doing this very minute, what he was going through — and I couldn’t help but wonder if he even knew he was going through it. Tears welled in my eyes when I thought about the last time we spoke, saw each other — minus the incident in my bedroom. He’d been so cold and disjointed, so . . . not Seth. Yeah, Preacher might slap old newsprint all over his walls to keep the wudus busy, but he was an herbalist and conjurer, first and foremost. He’d brought me to the Dupré House because it’d been a last resort. He and Estelle had never forced their beliefs on Seth and me; they’d simply offered explanation and left it up to us to do the believing or disbelieving. And you can bet your sweet ass I now believed it all. In three weeks, my little brother could turn into a vicious killer.

I wasn’t going let that happen.

With an exasperated sigh, I turned onto my side, punched the pillow, and tried to settle down. Somewhere below, in the street, two loudmouths were laughing it up and talking trash — one of the drawbacks of living on River Street, I supposed. Rolling out of bed, I moved to the dresser, grabbed my iPod, and jumped back into bed. I popped in my earbuds and ran through the selections until I found 30 Seconds to Mars. Maybe their music would help drown out not only the drunks on the river walk shouting perverted names at each other, but my constant, nonstop thoughts of what exactly was happening. Although I fought it, I finally drifted off, and a restless sleep claimed me.

Sometime during the night I woke from what would be the first of many dreams. In the dream I was waking from a dream. But my room wasn’t my room; my apartment wasn’t my apartment. I was somewhere completely different and unfamiliar, and I immediately knew it was a place where I was definitely not welcome, a total stranger. As if I inhabited some weird apocalyptic world, I lived in a derelict warehouse with rats, flaking paint, and broken windows, and when I looked outside, everything was gray, bleak, and lifeless — except for me. Then I saw them — vampires — and at first they were on the street below, maybe eight or ten of them; young, raggedy punks. In the next second, they’d leapt onto my balcony, and I stumbled back, then started to run. All through the warehouse I tried to escape, but they were all around me, leaping from the rafters overhead, toying with me, laughing; I knew then I’d never outrun them, so I turned to fight. I was surprised to find a small silver blade strapped to my thigh; it hadn’t been there before. Against a wall I turned, drew my weapon, and aimed. One flew toward me, face contorted into monstrous bloodlust and hatred, jaw hyperextended. It was Seth. My fingers froze on my weapon. I couldn’t do it. Then the others joined him as they descended upon me, merciless and horrific, and I screamed my brother’s name so hard the lining in my throat was scorched.

In the next second, a pair of iron hands shook me out of my nightmare, and when I came to my senses, Eli Dupré’s face was the first thing I recognized. In the shadows of my room his eyes were angry, illuminated; at least I thought they were. He sat on my bed, facing me. Everything was confusing to me now, and for the second time in my adult life I felt helpless and out of control. “I can’t stop shaking,” I muttered, and was — freakishly so. I was now sitting up, Eli’s hands still grasping my shoulders, and I wrapped my arms tightly around my legs and pushed my forehead to my knees.

“Breathe, Riley,” Eli said, a bit rough, then crooned in French, and it totally changed his voice. “Calme-toi.” I was clueless to the meaning, and swear to God, I didn’t care. The sound soothed me, and within seconds, the shaking stopped. His hands stayed on me. I wanted them there.

“I hate this,” I said quietly.

With a grip only slightly less ironlike than the one on my shoulder, Eli grasped my chin and made me look at him. “It’s not going to be easy,” he said, “but you’re going to have to try.”

Through bleary eyes I studied him. “That dream was horrible and . . . so realistic. My brother wanted to kill me; they all did — like I was effing dinner.”

“You’ve no idea how potent your blood is,” he said, still grasping my jaw. “Just knowing it’s there, masked though it may be, it is a heady temptation.”

I blinked, and to be frank it was getting harder and harder to concentrate with his hand on me. “And Gilles sent you to guard me because . . . ?” I let the question hang, anxiously awaiting a decent response.

Eli laughed softly. “Because while I’m probably the most lethal of my siblings, I also have more control. And your Preacher would have no less.”

I nodded, he dropped his hand, and I was completely aware of how close his body was to mine. I drew a breath and boldly met his steady gaze. “I learned a long time ago not to depend on anyone’s shoulder to cry on, so all this . . . consoling is very weird for me.”

Eli’s eyes left mine and moved to my shoulder. Without permission, he lifted my left arm, leaned over it, and traced my dragon’s lithe body from my collarbone to my index finger, inspecting it closely. My skin warmed immediately. “I think you hide behind your art,” he said evenly, then set my arm down and looked at me. “Just because you curse, fight like a dude, and ink your skin” — he lifted a forefinger and traced the wing at my eye — “doesn’t mean you don’t need a shoulder.” He rose. “Everybody needs one of those, Riley. Even . . . us.” He gave a slight smile. “I think you’re bullshitting. Beneath all that tough-ass exterior you really want someone to rescue you.” Crossing my bedroom floor, he stopped at the door while I remained speechless. “Lucky for you I’m not exactly busy at the moment.” With a final look of victory that I wanted to smack right off of him, he left the room.

The pillow I threw landed too late; it hit the wall beside the door, and his easy chuckle sounded from the living room. Frustrated, I jumped up, retrieved my pillow, and climbed back into bed. Arrogant bastard. “What did that mean, anyway?” I hollered into the living room. “That Frenchy stuff?”

“Quiet down, painted one.”

Somehow, those four words affected me. Eli might think it, maybe fully believe it. But I’d never — never — admit that he was sort of right. Not completely right, but yeah — sort of. Shoving my earbuds in, I cranked up “Heads Will Roll” by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and fell hard asleep.

When next I woke, the morning sun was beaming in through the balcony door. My very first thought was Seth. And no lie, my second thought was Oh, shit — I have mouthwatering, one-of-a-kind blood. Third thought? I have a hell of a hangover. Crawling from the bed, I walked into the living room and stopped short. I found Eli on the sofa, Chaz beside him with his big furry head resting in Eli’s lap. Chaz saw me and didn’t budge; simply wagged his hiniesca (he has no tail).

“Get any sleep?” Eli said, looking like he’d showered and changed — two things I didn’t think a vampire would even bother with. He was scrubbing Chaz between the ears.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I frowned. “What did you do to my dog?”

Eli shrugged. “We’re friends now.”

“Right.” I glanced at the clock. “Any bodies turn up this morning?”

Eli regarded me with solemn eyes. “Not yet. But they won’t all turn up, Riley.”

I nodded. “Gotta get next door and back in forty minutes. My first appointment is at eleven today.”

I hurried from the room, hastily brushed my teeth, and pulled on a pair of black board shorts with a small skull and crossbones, a lightweight hoodie, and flip-flops, and walked to the door. I patted my thigh. “Come on, boy. Wanna go out?”

Chaz glanced up at Eli, as if asking permission. Eli inclined his head. “You heard her. Let’s go.”

My traitorous dog leapt from the sofa, barking. I glared at Eli as we headed downstairs. After a super-quick walk, I put Chaz back inside, fed him, and we hurried over to Preacher’s. The moment we walked in, Estelle’s greeting shocked me.

“Oh, dere’s my boy!” she said, completely ignoring me and rushing to Eli’s side. She wrapped her arms around him and hugged tightly. He hugged her back. “Where you been, boy? I been dyin’ to see you.” She pulled back and looked up at him. “How long’s it been? Why you stay gone so long?” She shook her head and swatted him on the backside. “You shoulda come home a long time ago, Eligius Dupré.”

I watched their odd, affectionate exchange in fascination for a few moments. Eli had been gone? And all this time, he’d been close to Preacher and Estelle? Weird how I’d never noticed. I headed to the kitchen to sit with Preacher, and he was, as faithful as ever, waiting for me at the table, tea at the ready. We met each other’s gaze as I sat, he gave a slight nod, and I started in on my first cup of tea. I poured it from a steaming pot into a mug and stared at Preacher through the mist. “I look at this tea a little different than before, Preacher man.”

“You’re alive because of it,” he answered simply, and I knew it to be the absolute truth.

“Why have I never met him before?” I asked, inclining my head to the first floor, where Estelle’s high-pitched voice could still be heard gushing over Eli. “Or any of them, for that matter. I mean, it’s kinda hard to miss an entire vampiric family in Savannah, don’t you think?”

“The others you’ve encountered before; dey jes don’t make a habit of comin’ into Da Plat Eye, right?”

The sound of Estelle’s and Eli’s feet coming up the steps sounded, and Preacher looked at me. “Dat boy dere has been gone a few years,” he said, taking a bite of bacon. “Twelve. But you have to ask him why. Dat’s a tale for him to tell.”

“Well, no wonder I’ve never seen him around,” I said. “I was just a punk kid in juvy for the hundredth time when he was here last.” I couldn’t imagine what had taken Eli away from his family for such a long time, unless when you’re immortal, twelve years was just a flash second. Maybe he wanted to travel the world, see new places. But then, how’d he get his donated hoodoo-tinged blood? That thought made an involuntary chill course through my spine, and I wasn’t positive I wanted the answer.

“You don’t see dem around ’cause dey know to stay away from you,” Preacher said, looking at me over his teacup. “Dat blood inside you is powerful to dem — like drugs, even wit our magic in dem. You don’t go wavin’ drugs in a junkie’s face when dey’re tryin’ to get clean, dat’s right.”

The tea still steamed out of the spout as I poured another cup. “Why didn’t you ever tell me, Preacher?”

“Didn’t need to know till now.”

“Does Seth have it? My mom?” I asked.

“No.”

“So how’d I get it?” I asked, frustrated. Trying to pry information from Preacher’s lips was like trying to crack open a stubborn oyster.

His wise eyes stared at me for several seconds. “Don’t know, Riley. Could be passed from your grandmamma or granddaddy, or their grandmammas and grandaddies. No tellin’.”

I sighed. “Figures.”

“Oh, Preacher man, look at dis boy now, yeah? Ain’t he purty?” Estelle said, shuffling Eli into the kitchen and the chair next to me. “Don’t worry, girl — he won’t bite you. Will you, Eligius Dupré?” she said, then laughed and handed Eli a plate of biscuits and bacon.

“No, ma’am,” Eli said politely. He looked at me and lifted a brow, then jammed a piece of bacon in his mouth.

“Good — ’cause dat would be bad, right,” Estelle said and looked at me. “’Bout time you knew things, Riley Poe. I always kept tellin’ your Preacher man, dat girl needs to know things, ’specially wit dat crazy blood inside ya, dat’s right.” She walked over and hugged me tightly, and I nearly spilled tea in my lap. “Don’t you worry, girl. If dere’s any one body who can get your brodder back safe, it’s dis boy sittin’ beside you.” She grabbed my face with both hands and squished my cheeks together. “You can trust him, Riley Poe. And, girl, you better eat. Your backside’s gettin’ bony.”

“I can’t, Estelle. Just not hungry.” My gaze slid to Eli’s, then to Preacher’s, and back to my surrogate grandmother, who frowned. “Yes, ma’am,” I said, repeating Eli’s words. “I’ll try.”

She let me go. “Good. Now, eat up.”

I managed a piece of toast with jam, and just as we finished, Preacher turned to both of us. “Dos boys have gone underground, and Riley here knows dos places better dan anyone. She’ll take you, but only after a day or two.” He looked at me. “I know you’re anxious to do somethin’ and you’re itchin’ to fight. But you gotta wait, girl. Your brodder won’t long recognize you as his sister anymore, right? He might know somethin’ is familiar, but not your person. If you go too early, he will know you, and dat could mess things up. You watch each odder’s back, you and dis boy here, and don’t go dere for long. Just long enough to get noticed by odders and dey let you back in. Dat’s where dos boys will be — dem bad places. Easier to bring victims back to dem bad brodders if messed up wit da drugs. Right?”

I nodded. “Yes, sir, okay,” I said, knowing messed up really meant fucked-up. The thought of going back underground, slipping back into a crowd I’d long ago left behind, made me sick. But I’d do it, and no one but me would know how it killed me to go back to the place I’d worked so hard to escape. And not just the clubs; it was rarely the clubs themselves. It was just certain crowds, and I knew Preacher meant dos people. And it was in those crowds that I became mixed up with the wrong guy. It’d ended way worse than just a broken heart or an overnight trip in the tank. I pushed the painful memory aside and glanced at the clock. “Oh, gotta run. Shop opens in a few.” I kissed Preacher and Estelle good-bye, and we left.

“We’ll spend the next day or so going over changes,” Eli said as we crossed the cobbles to Inksomnia’s back entrance. “There are things you’ll need to know and expect. I don’t want you sucker punched.”

“What about you?” I asked.

“Don’t worry about me.”

Out of nowhere and all at once, a thought struck me, and it hit so hard I nearly gasped. I turned and looked Eli in the eye. “A young guy was found murdered a few days ago. Nineteen years old, about to leave for Parris Island. I’d inked him the day before.” I knew in my heart the answer, but I asked anyway. “Did Seth and his friends do that?”

“No,” he said without hesitation. “But they helped Valerian and Victorian find him, or they lured him. There are more victims, Riley. The bodies just haven’t been found yet.”

My stomach lurched at the thought. All I could think about was Zac, and how sweet and respectful he’d been. And so ready to join the marines. Eli watched me cautiously, and I couldn’t take my gaze off him. Blue eyes stared at me beneath long, thick, dark lashes, and I noticed the faint shadowy presence of scruff on his jaw and over his top lip. Skin so blemish free and creamy, any girl would be envious of it. He hardly looked like a killer, but I knew at one time he certainly was. And now my brother was one, too. “I want you to tell me this is all going to be fixed,” I said vehemently. I grabbed his forearms and shook hard, urging him to give me the answer I wanted to hear. Needed to hear. “Tell. Me.”

“We’ll fix it,” he answered, and somehow, I believed him. There was still so much I wanted to know about him, and so many questions that plagued me. Hopefully, tonight I’d learn more.

Leaving Eli in the living room with Chaz, I hurried through a shower, dried my hair, pulled my red-streaked bangs into small clips, and let the rest hang down my back. Worn, distressed jeans with a brown leather vest that left my tattooed arms exposed finished my wardrobe for the day, along with a pair of brown, slouched, heeled leather boots. I grabbed a wine red velvet choker from my dresser, tied it around my neck, and left the room, where I pulled up short and froze. Phin, Luc, and Josie Dupré had joined their brother in the living room, and now all four regarded me. “What’s up?” I asked, walked to the fridge to grab a Yoo-hoo, and gasped the moment I opened the door. The whole top shelf of my refrigerator was lined with small, plastic, yellow bags, and I knew without asking what they were. I wasn’t squeamish or anything, but . . . damn — that was just messed up. I grabbed my drink and quickly closed the door.

I can’t express how it felt to know that four vampires sat casually in my living room, taking turns petting my dog and watching TV. It was just . . . freaky. And I’m not sure my brain would ever fully wrap around the entirety of it.

“Morning,” Luc and Phin said, almost at the same time.

“Your tats are sick,” said Josie, staring at my inked arms. She looked at Eli. “Can I get one?”

“Later, Josie,” said Eli, and gave me a casual glance. “You intrigue them.”

I really wasn’t sure what exactly intrigued them. The unique aged claret running through my veins? “Great. Okay, well . . . I’ve got a client in fifteen, so I have to go. You guys can help yourself to whatever.” I really didn’t have anything a vampire would want, I suppose — except my blood — but I didn’t know what else to offer.

“Thanks,” Phin said with a grin. “But we just stopped by to bring Eli his . . . breakfast.” He grinned. “We’ll take you up on that later, though.”

“Can’t I stay with you?” Josie asked Eli, and shot me a quick glance. “I want to watch her.”

“Not today, squirt,” said Eli. They seemed so normal, just like other brothers and sisters, that it seemed weird to think of them as vampires. I supposed no matter what, they were still siblings. “But maybe another day. And you’ll have to ask Riley.” He inclined his head toward me. “She’s the boss.”

Josie looked at me with wide blue eyes. “Could I?” she asked. “Please? I won’t get in the way, I swear.” She nearly squirmed where she stood, dressed in a Go-Go’s T-shirt, skinny jeans, and high-tops.

I shrugged. “Yeah, sure.” I smiled. “Cool shirt.”

Josie beamed. “Cool band.”

“Damn straight,” I agreed. “Okay, I seriously have to go now.”

Luc looked at me and smiled. “La paix hors.”

In the next breath, they were gone, and I literally heard Josie giggle just as the downstairs door closed. I would never get used to that. Eli stood, watching me, amused. “He said, ‘Peace out.’”

“Oh,” I responded. “Okay, come on.” Running against the clock, I hurried downstairs, Eli and Chaz on my heels. At the bottom of the steps I turned, and Eli stood on the step above me, not quite a foot away.

“Look,” I said, grasping the wooden handrail and looking up at him. “You’re about to meet one of my favorite people in the entire world. She’s very buoyant, optimistic, and sweet — and she’s my best friend. She’s already freaked about Seth, so don’t make it worse by staring at her all day, okay?”

Eli’s smile was subtle but effective. “Why do you think I’d stare?” he asked.

“Because you stare at me constantly,” I answered.

He drew closer. “Are you freaked-out?”

I fought the ever-growing urge to touch him and instead glared at him. “No.”

Again, he smiled. “Good. So what are we going to tell her?”

I cocked my head and stared, keeping my voice down. “A big fat freaking lie, that’s what.” I poked his chest. “I can’t tell her about . . . your heritage. I believe because your father proved it to me — in my mind it’s indisputable. Hard to grasp, but I can handle it. I’m not sure if Nyx would be able to. For now you’re just an apprentice hanging out for a little experience. That’s it. No connection to what she witnessed with my brother. He’s gone to rehab on Da Island. Got it?”

“Understood,” Eli said, then, with his forefinger, grazed my angel wing. “You look” — his gaze raked over me with appreciation — “amazing.”

Why that compliment affected me, I haven’t a clue. But it left me a little breathless, a little shaky, and, strangely enough, wanting a lot more. “Thanks,” I answered, and tried to seem like it was no big thing, but Eli’s smile proved he knew otherwise. I rolled my eyes, turned around, then stopped again. I regarded him. “You’re not going to be tempted by Nyx, are you? Because if you hurt one little hair on her head — ”

“She’s safe,” Eli interrupted. “I’ve got Gullah blood in me, too, don’t forget.”

“One more thing,” I added. “Nyx is a hugger. She hugs me every time she sees me. She will hug you. It’s what she does. So just . . . deal with it.”

Eli’s blue eyes gleamed. “Yes, ma’am.”

The moment I opened the door, Nyx, just flipping the OPEN sign in the storefront, turned. In total Nyx fashion, her huge blue eyes lined with heavy black liner widened. “Riley! Oh my gosh, I’ve been so worried! How’s Seth?” she asked, hurrying across the room and launching herself at me. I hugged her back as tightly as she hugged me; then she pulled back and studied me, seeking answers. “Is he going to be okay? Have you heard from him today?”

Just her concerned questions made my heart sink; knowing the truth of what was happening to my brother, and keeping it from Nyx, hurt. It hurt like freaking hell.

“No, I won’t be talking to him for a while,” I said, not exactly lying. I hated lying, especially to my best friend. But in this circumstance I had no choice. She didn’t need to know how much danger my brother was in, and she’d never understand the truth. “Not while he’s in detox.”

Tears came to Nyx’s eyes. “Oh, Riley,” she said, and gave me another hug. Nyx was a big hugger, and I was so not — except with her and Preacher and Estelle. And Seth. “Everything’s going to be fine; I just know it. Don’t — oh, hello,” she said, and pulled back.

I glanced at Eli, who’d been standing in the foyer, waiting for an introduction. “Oh, Nyx, this is Eli. He’s apprenticing and is going to be with us for a while.” I shrugged. “Sort of a last-minute thing.”

Nyx’s bright red lips widened into a welcoming smile only Nyxinnia could give. She immediately hugged Eli. “Hi, Eli! Welcome to Inksomnia! You’re going to love it here. Riley is the best artist you’ll ever work with.”

Eli chuckled and hugged Nyx back. “So I’ve heard,” he said, and gave me a quick, amused glance over her shoulder, then pulled back and looked at her. “Nice to meet you. Riley says great things about you.”

Nyx grinned and looked at me. “Oh, she has? She’s so sweet!” Then she mouthed the word hot, and although I didn’t hear Eli make a sound, I could just tell he’d seen it. “Well, come take a look around.” She turned and headed toward the front of the shop. As always, she wore her hair in two high ponytails, and today she wore her favorite spiked collar. She grinned at him. “I’ll show you how we set up. First, we rock the house. I can’t work without music. How ’bout a little Metric?”

With a grin, Eli followed, and I gave him over to Nyx while I prepared for my first client and printed out the transfer I’d created for her. She showed right at eleven, and after a brief chat about the design — a pair of barbed dark wings, one on each shoulder blade — I set to work. The design itself included intricate scrolled detailing and color on the wingtips, so I knew it’d take me a handful of hours to complete. Which was fine. I needed something to take my mind off my brother, and off the vampire who was learning how to set up the Widow with my best friend. Metric’s “Sick Muse” thumped overhead, and it pulled me right into the zone.

The early afternoon went by without a hitch, and around one thirty I sent Eli on some errands for a couple of hours. I didn’t tell Nyx that his errand included going upstairs, sucking blood from a bag in my fridge like it was a Capri Sun, and sacking out on my bed, but I knew he needed it. He’d watched me work on the dark wings for nearly two hours, completely intrigued — or so it seemed. Nyx had enthusiastically talked Eli through every step of the dragonfly she’d inked on a girl’s lower back, and more than once I looked over at his dark head bent close to Nyx’s work. Finally, he went upstairs. I never checked on him; I figured he’d been doing his thing for nearly two centuries and didn’t need my help. True to his word, after a couple of hours he returned to the shop, looking refreshed and ready to go. Good thing the Arcoses were out cold until the sun dropped.

The rest of the afternoon flew by; I’d done two wicked armbands, one of which was a bike chain, which I thought was pretty cool, and was finishing up a screaming phoenix on a marine’s rib cage when the shop phone rang. Nyx answered.

“Hey, Riley, it’s for you,” she said.

“Okay, could you tell them to hold just a sec?” I asked. Inking the side of a marine’s solid six-pack was challenging — lots of hard ridges to work over — and I leaned close, wiped, and inspected my work. The marine, lying on his side with his arm above his head, glanced at me and grinned. “How does it look?”

I gave a nod. “Freaking awesome. I’ll be right back.” I peeled off my gloves and went to the front desk to answer the phone. “Inksomnia. This is Riley.”

“I’m . . . sorry to bother you, Ms. Poe,” said a distraught female voice. “This is Karen Parker — Riggs Parker’s mom.” She paused. “Have you seen him? He was supposed to be staying with Todd Sawyer, and, well . . . I just can’t find him. It’s been a few days.” She paused. “He usually checks in.”

“Mrs. Parker, hi,” I said. My insides froze over, and I stilled. My eyes immediately sought out Eli’s, and I found he was already watching me. He moved instantly toward me, and I covered the mouthpiece and spoke softly. “It’s Mrs. Parker — Seth’s friend’s mother. He was with Seth that night.”

“Give me the phone,” he said quietly, and I did. In a voice so faint I could barely detect it, Eli spoke to Mrs. Parker in French. I have no idea what he said. Then he hung up. As he moved away, he leaned close to my ear. “I eased her mind. She’ll be okay for now.”

I looked at him and fully understood, although I had no idea how Eli did it. I didn’t care at this point, as long as he did. I knew Riggs was with Seth, and as much of a peckerhead as he’d been before, I wanted him safely returned back to normal, back to his mother and deserving a good ass kicking. God, I knew without hearing the angst in her voice that she was going through hell. “Thanks,” I told Eli, and went back to the marine who was waiting for me. In less than twenty minutes I was finished, screaming phoenix complete and looking pretty sick, if I did say so myself. He proudly examined his new ink, the skin around the design flaming red. I gave him a sample tube of medicated ointment and tat instructions, and he left.

Nyx finished early, and she finally confessed to having a blind date. Eli helped her clean up, and as I watched my alternatively dressed best friend pick up her station with a vampire, I knew my world was unlike anyone else’s. Nyx gathered her big black shoulder bag with pink skull and crossbones, gave me a hug, gave Eli a hug, and said good-bye. The only reason I wasn’t apprehensive about Nyx walking the streets alone after dark now was because I knew one of the Duprés had her back. I felt somewhat guilty for keeping it all from her, but it had to be the best choice. It wouldn’t do any good to have Nyx worried about things out of our control, and she loved Seth like a brother. I watched her through the storefront window until she disappeared down the cobbled street and into the dusky light, auburn ponytails swinging with each step.

“She’s a good person,” Eli said, suddenly at my side. “She has a good soul.”

I nodded. “She does.” Out of the corner of my eye, I looked at him, and memories of the night before, when he’d crowded me on the balcony, his hard body pressed against mine, flashed to the front of my mind. I tried to decide just how unsafe Eligius Dupré actually was, and I couldn’t. Part of me was terrified of him. The other part of me wanted to fuck him until he passed out. Or I passed out.

Eli chuckled.

And then, nearly twenty-four hours later, it hit me. I frowned and turned to fully face him. “Can all of you read minds?” I asked, and watched his reaction warily.

A smug, nonchalant expression crossed his perfect features, and he shrugged. “Yeah, sure. And we can coerce, too.” He rubbed his chin. “I’m not sure yet which is more to my advantage.” He lifted a dark brow and stared. “Right now I’m thinking mind reading.”

“Ground rule number three: Stay out of my head,” I said, and felt only vaguely mortified at my pornographic thoughts of him.

Eli simply smirked. “Whatever.” He shoved a hand through his bangs and swept them to the side, then shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Tomorrow night we begin.” He regarded me. “Are you ready?”

Turning toward him, I boldly inspected him, from booted feet to the top of his head. I shook my own head and walked off to tidy up my station and start a list of needed supplies.

“What?” he asked, dismayed.

“I’m not going anywhere with you” — I turned and pointed at him — “looking like that.”

Eli glanced down at himself. “What do you mean? What’s wrong with the way I look?”

With a critical eye, I studied him. “Do you know where we’re going to search for my brother? They’re the types of places where a pretty boy who looks like he just stepped off the pages of GQ or . . . Men’s Health or something sticks out like a sore thumb. You’d look wicked ridiculous and draw unwanted attention. You’ve got to blend, dude.”

A slow grin played across his face. “So you think I’m hot? GQ hot?”

I ignored his arrogant, blunt question, locked the front door, and set the alarm system. “Come on,” I said, moving past him.

He was at the back door ahead of me, and I stopped short. All I could do was try not to look as surprised as I was.

“Where are we going?” he asked, leaning against the frame and blocking the door.

“Walgreens. A friend’s house. Liquor Warehouse. Mellow Mushroom. In that order,” I answered.

Eli laughed a totally guy laugh and regarded me. “Okay, I won’t ask. Let’s go.”

After quickly letting Chaz out, we locked up, jumped in the Jeep, and headed first up Bay Street, then hit Abercorn. The usual after-dark traffic crept along until we passed the intersection at Victory Drive; then the pace quickened as we moved along the oak-lined streets. The heavy brine and warm, sultry air rushed over us as we drove, and I knew he watched me — could feel his gaze on every inch of my body as we passed beneath each streetlamp. At the next red light I hit the clutch, downshifted into second, then first gear, and came to a stop. I looked over at him, and shadows played over his sharp jaw, cheekbones, Adam’s apple. I noticed he had absolutely perfect lips, and the way his eyes studied me with such intensity made a thrill shoot through my insides. He was the kind of guy who would have never given me the time of day in high school, but I didn’t care. We sat, staring wordlessly at each other beneath the streetlights and with cars all around us, and I knew then, at that very moment, that we’d have mind-blowing sex in the near — very near — future. It was inevitable, and I felt it clear to my bones. The tension between us was palpable, and I couldn’t help but wonder just how much vampiric control he’d be able to maintain. Would he lose it and kill me? At the time would I even care? The light must have turned green, because the driver of the truck behind us blew its horn, and I jumped. Eli grinned; I frowned, although it really wasn’t a sincere frown, and I shifted into first and eased off the clutch. Soon we were crossing DeRenne, and Eli glanced to his right as we passed the big globe.

“You know,” he said, “my brothers and I had a pissing contest off the globe once. It was new back then, too, and Papa was furious at us.” He laughed again. “We liked to think we took a leak from the top of the world.”

I glanced in my rearview mirror and changed lanes, then gave him a quick, bewildered look. “Vampires pee?”

“Only if we drink a lot of beer,” he said with a grin, the wind blowing his hair all about and making him look more like a carefree young guy than an aged vampire. Why I constantly questioned myself about that, I don’t know, but I did.

As I made the long drive down Abercorn, I pushed my hair from my face and glanced at Eli. “Preacher said you’ve been gone for twelve years. Why?”

The muscle in Eli’s jaw flinched, and he stared straight ahead. “That’s none of your business.”

Anger pushed me. “You’re supposed to be guarding me, right? A vampire capable of killing me, staying in my house while I sleep. I have a right to know.”

“No, you don’t.”

I looked at him, but before I could say a word, his face grew alarmingly still. “Drop it, Riley.”

I did, for the time being. After several stoplights, we pulled into Walgreens and parked. Releasing my seat belt, I hopped out, and Eli did the same. I didn’t say a word as I entered the store and turned down the aisle lined with hair color, grabbed a box of L’Oréal black, and checked out. Eli looked only vaguely puzzled; I’d asked him to stay out of my head, but I couldn’t decide whether that was something he could voluntarily do, so he may have known my plan. If I had the power to scope people’s thoughts, I’m not positive I could turn it off. So much temptation. So little time.

On to our next destination. I pulled into the drive of a single-story Savannah brick home just off Largo — quite deceiving on the outside, since the interior was decorated in a unique decay look. I yanked the emergency brake, put the Jeep into first, and looked at my passenger’s questioning gaze. I was still pissed so was short on formalities. “Mullet Morrison’s house. I went to high school with him. He’s cool,” I said. “And one badass tailor. He designs and sells one-of-a-kind Goth and urban wear online and makes a freaking killing at it. Calls it Gnaw Bone Brand. Come on.”

At the door, Mullet welcomed me as he always did: enthusiastically. Despite his name, he wore a totally shaved head, a goatee, baggy shorts, a ripped camouflage shirt, and combat boots — his usual attire. He was a prince.

“Whoa, man — my favorite hot inked chick,” Mullet said, and glanced at Eli briefly. “Wassup, cuz?” he asked me, and bumped my fist. “Welcome to the kingdom of Gnaw Bone.” He regarded Eli. “What can I do you for?”

“We’re looking for some decent stuff,” I said, and inclined my head at Eli. “For him.”

“Excellent, excellent,” Mullet said. “No offense, dude, but you could use a little darkness. Black? Ripped? Junkie?”

“Yeah, on all three accounts,” I answered. I gave Eli a short glance; then we followed Mullet inside. “Oh my God, Mullet — how many more times can you watch Jackass?” I said, glancing at his monstrous flat screen on the wall.

Mullet laughed. “Never enough Jackass, I always say.” He glanced at Eli. “This way, dude.” He looked at me. “Been to the Panic Room lately?”

“Nah, not in a while. Busy at work. Thinkin’ about going, though,” I replied, and he gave me a nod.

“Sweet,” he said. “Maybe I’ll see you there.”

We didn’t spend much time at Mullet’s — didn’t have to. Mullet had an entire showroom full of clothes on racks, and boots that he bought wholesale. There was so much to choose from that we had no problem picking out appropriate gear for Eli. He was silent through most of it, and I’m positive he thought I’d lost my mind. Two pairs of postapocalyptic urban pants, a black pair of junkie-fit jeans with side laces, two long-sleeved decayed shirts, a gray ripped shirt, and a pair of buckled black combat boots later, we left. I’d also picked out a two-inch leather finger band with a sterling-silver skull in the center. Wicked cool.

I called Mellow Mushroom on the way and ordered a sausage, pepperoni, and mushroom with extra cheese, stopped off at Liquor Warehouse and grabbed a six-pack of Yuengling Lager, then picked up the pizza. Finally, we made it back to Inksomnia. Upstairs, we dumped everything onto the kitchen table, and I turned to Eli. “Ready for a makeover?”

He shrugged. “You’re the boss.”

As I gathered a few things from the bathroom — comb, scissors, towels — I noticed more than ever how cramped I felt in the same apartment with Eligius Dupré. I tried to ignore it, tried to ignore him as he watched me with such scrutiny. Quickly, I changed into a pair of low-rise cutoffs and an old black cotton cami, scrolled through the iPod home unit and chose Chevelle, pulled a stool from the bar into the kitchen, and inclined my head to it.

“Sit,” I said.

He did so wordlessly.

“Lose the shirt,” I commanded, “unless you want it stained.”

Without a sound he grasped the collar behind his neck and yanked the white tee over his head, leaving a perfectly cut chest and sculpted abs bare and flawless. Quick reflexes always served me well, and I dropped the towel in his lap. “Over the shoulders,” I said, and with an arrogant chuckle he did as I’d asked. I began his dark transformation.

With Chevelle’s “Don’t Fake This” thumping through the apartment, I settled into my task. Coloring Eli’s hair proved to be an erotic experience. His breath brushed the bare skin of my exposed stomach as I lifted my arms to apply the dye, and gooseflesh followed. I was sure he’d noticed, and positive he knew it had affected me. His hair was slick and wet and fell through my fingers as I applied the color, and as I moved around him I noticed how his hand rested casually on his crotch, and how my thigh brushed against his, or how I leaned into him to reach a certain spot. Yeah, I did it on purpose. Swear to God, I couldn’t help it. He was a total turn-on; my mind and body hummed with sensations, and I knew I played with fire. Knew it, and still did it.

While we waited for the color to set, I grabbed us each a Yuengling, handed Eli one, grabbed us each a slice of pizza, then hopped onto the counter in front of him. With black dye all over his head, I regarded him as I sipped the beer. Silently, he watched me as he swallowed, his eyes moving over my body. Neither of us said anything for several moments, and that may have been even more erotic than the coloring.

“Why don’t you have a man?” he asked, blue eyes gauging my response as he bit the pizza in half. I watched his teeth flash and wondered what else they’d sunk into in times past.

Mood killer. I immediately had my guard up now. “If I need one, I find one,” I said, taking a bite, chewing, and chasing it with another sip.

“A permanent one,” he restated. I’d already known what he meant. I just wanted to provoke him.

I sat the bottle and pizza on the counter beside me and wiped my mouth with a knuckle. I lifted the hem of my cami to expose my ribs, and touched a jagged, three-inch-long scar midway up my side. “Reason number one,” I said, and Eli’s eyes followed my finger. Before I knew it, his hand shot out and, grasping my side, he used his thumb to trace the old wound. “What happened?” he asked, his voice odd, almost . . . strained. He dropped his hand.

I shrugged. “Thought I was in love with a psychopath,” I answered. “That was my first warning never to leave him.” I met Eli’s hard stare. “I should’ve listened then.”

“Why?”

Although it was an old memory, it was still as painful as hell, and my throat burned at the thought of it. I trained my eyes on his. “Because the second warning came when I found my mother strangled and drowned in her own bathtub,” I said, and shook my head, painful visions filling my mind. “My mom warned me about him and tried her best to get me to break up with him. I never dreamed he’d do . . . what he did to her.” I looked at Eli, who remained stonily silent. “I was seventeen and was one messed-up kid. Seth was only seven.” I drew in a long breath. “My mother worked for Preacher and Estelle, and they’d been left by her as guardians for Seth and me. I’d always wondered if she knew her life was in danger; she’d made sure we’d never be separated or put in foster care.” I drained the rest of the bottle and tossed it in the recycle bin. “I’d given her hell — a total fuckup and into just about everything a teenager could get into. Smoked like a freight train, toked a little Mary Jane, drank, drugs, runaway, sex — you name it.” I studied Eli hard. “I was changed after that night, though. Seeing my mother like that?” I shook my head. “Something in me snapped. Preacher saved my life, put me through detox on Da Island, the Gullah way. Then I went to college and started raising Seth here. I owe Preacher and his family everything.” When I swung back around, his gaze still remained dead on me. “You know?”

“Yeah,” he answered quietly. “I do know.”

I gave an understanding nod. I supposed he did know. The Gullah had helped Eli and his family, too — in a huge way. Had molded them into something completely different from what their destiny had tried to determine. I ate the rest of my pizza and had another slice, Eli had three, and by then the timer on the oven buzzed. “Well,” I said, not really knowing what else to say. “Time to rinse.” I beckoned Eli to the sink and turned the water on warm.

With his hair on end and now totally black, he moved to the sink and bent over, resting his forearms on the counter. Moving over him, I rinsed his hair with the spray gun, moving my fingers through its wet silkiness, my breasts brushing his shoulders, until finally, the water ran clear. I applied the conditioner and rinsed again. My skin flushed hot just standing close to him. Part of me hated my easy reaction to his raw sexuality; part of me wondered whether the underlying threat of arcane danger was what turned me on. If so, I was indeed a freak to the nth degree. One thing was indisputable: I was incredibly, undeniably drawn to him. And he knew it.

I struggled to sound calm and collected. “Okay,” I said, running my hands through his hair and squeezing out the excess water. Grabbing the towel that was half draped over his shoulders, I pulled it onto his head and scrubbed. “Done. Let’s have a look.”

Eli straightened, grabbed onto the towel, and dried his hair, and I couldn’t help watching the muscles move and flex with the motion; creamy smooth skin stretched taut over the hard ridges of his stomach and chest; his biceps bunched into rocks, shoulders broad. Long veins snaked up his arms, and wide hands moved over his head in a careless, guy manner. When he dropped the towel and looked at me, we were standing too close; I knew it and did nothing about it. Eli’s new black hair hung in wet, shaggy strands over blue eyes that grew dark and dangerous as he looked down at me, and I couldn’t move. He leaned a hip on the counter, braced his weight with an arm behind me, and leaned close. My heart began to race erratically, and I moved a bit closer. I felt like I’d been placed under a spell, knowing in the back of my head that what I did was a bad move but unable to help myself at the same time.

“You play a dangerous game, Riley Poe,” he said with steely restraint, and his gaze dropped to my exposed cleavage, then rose to my mouth, where it froze. A muscle flinched in his jaw. “I suppose I’m part to blame.” He looked at me and moved closer, his mouth at my ear, his voice even, low. “Ever since I heard you say you wanted to fuck me, I haven’t been able to shake you.” Eli moved his entire body in front of mine, all bare chest and ripped abs trapping me against the counter, his arms now locked on either side of me. With ease, he grasped my hair behind me and pulled with just enough pressure to force my face upward to meet his gaze, then held it there. He inhaled deeply, his face inches from mine. “I sensed it the first day I saw you through the window, and it’s grown stronger with each encounter.” He searched my eyes, his voice lethally quiet. “Do you want to know why I’ve been gone for twelve years, Riley?”

I could barely breathe, much less talk. Never had I been held under such a tight restraint as Eli’s penetrating gaze. “Yes,” I finally said, forcing my voice to be strong and wondering why the hell he was torturing me. He was so close that his warm breath brushed my neck, my chest, making me thrilled and shivery at the same time.

“Because I lost control,” he warned, emphasizing each word as a low, painful growl, his breathing becoming more ragged. I could feel the air snap between us with a mixture of sexual tension and tightly reigned rage as he struggled. “So stop twitching your tight little ass in front of me,” he said, and let his gaze drop to my breasts once more. His stare lifted and bored into me. “You’re a greater temptation to me than your mortal mind could possibly grasp.” He let my hair go. “And I don’t know if I’d be able to stop with you.” He pushed off the counter but kept his eyes trained on mine. “There’s too much at stake here to risk that.”

My heart was beating so hard and fast, it hurt; my breathing burned my lungs. Inside, I shook, and all I could make myself do was stare at him like some fucking mute and move past him. Rejection in any form sucked; rejection tinged with fear sucked even more, and I wanted to escape the living room, escape Eli’s scrutiny. So twisted inside that I could hear my own heartbeat, feel it beneath the thin cotton of my cami, I hurried to my bedroom. I’d escape the mortification of the moment now; in the morning I’d be cool; his transformation could continue. I still needed to do something to his hair, and I didn’t exactly trust myself with a pair of scissors right now.

I felt his eyes on me as I disappeared up the hall, but even though rooms separated us, I could feel him still on me, his voice inside me, his breath brushing my skin, and I wanted to scream until it vanished. I wanted it all to go away — the Arcoses, the Duprés, everything.

The moment I stepped into my bedroom, I knew nothing would ever be the same again. I stumbled to an abrupt halt as I laid eyes on my brother, standing at the now-open double doors of my balcony. Reaction to action took over, and I moved toward him. “Seth!” I said, my voice cracked and jagged with holes, emotion.

The look in my brother’s eyes froze me; they were feral, frigid, vacant, and terrifying at once. He looked like himself, yet didn’t; he looked . . . starved. Before I could move or say another word, a gust of air blew past me, and Seth lunged viciously toward me, out of control and as fast as lightning. I hadn’t even seen Eli move, but he now had Seth by the throat in a tight grasp, hanging him over the balcony’s edge.

My scream reverberated off the centuries-old bricks of my bedroom.