Abilities Vlad had stunted when he coated me in his flame-repelling aura to protect me from the explosion Szilagyi detonated. Vlad's enemy thought he was taking me down with him, but I'd survived the inferno. Figures my survival had come at a price. Fate didn't let anyone off easily.

I shook my head to clear the past from it. Then, feeling anything but festive, I headed for the main floor.

Vlad was waiting at the bottom of the staircase. His black tuxedo should've been too severe with its lack of accent color, but instead, he looked like a sensual version of the Angel of Death. I couldn't stop my shiver as his gaze swept over me. Emerald briefly shone from his eyes, and when he took my hand, I felt his heat even through my gloves. Normal vampires felt room temperature, but not Vlad. The pyrokinesis that made him so feared among his kind also made him warmer than most humans when his abilities, temper, or desire flared to life.

"You look ravishing."

His low growl let me know which emotion heated him now, and once again I shivered. My feelings for him might be rife with doubt, but my body wasn't conflicted. I'd moved closer before I realized it, my ni**les puckering as soon as his chest brushed mine. Then something lower in me clenched as his mouth grazed my neck, that thick stubble deliciously chafing my skin.

He inhaled, air landing like the softest of kisses on my pulse when he let it out. Then his hands closed over my shoulders, their heat wonderfully potent. A flick of his fingers pushed my hair aside, exposing my neck. I gasped as his mouth lowered and two hard, sharp fangs pressed against my skin. The dark rapture of his bite was second only to making love to him, and I'd missed partaking of both recently. Without thought, I gripped his head closer, almost shuddering in anticipation.

He muttered something unintelligible and drew away, his gaze still lit up with emerald.

"Not now. Our guests are waiting."

I don't care! was my first thought, followed immediately by What is wrong with me? Yes, people were waiting for us, not to mention several guards lurked in this hallway. Even if none of the above were true, I had serious issues to work out with Vlad. Assuaging my libido should be the last thing on my to-do list.

"Right," I said, dropping my hands and stepping away. I didn't look at him as I brushed my hair back over my shoulder, covering as much of the zigzagging scar as I could. I wasn't ashamed, but the inevitable pitying glances from people who saw it for the first time got old.

"Leila."

The way he said my name made me jerk my head up. Vlad's eyes had changed back to burnished mahogany, the only green in them now the natural ring that encircled his irises.

"Don't hide for anyone," he stated, pushing my hair off my shoulder. "Only fools pity survivors their scars and you should never kowtow to fools."

Then he held out his hand, his own faded battle wounds crisscrossing his flesh like tiny pale stripes. "Come."

I took his hand, forcing back the emotion that constricted my heart with invisible bands. Then I began reciting songs in my head, masking the most dangerous thought before it reached him.

That's one of the reasons I love you. You bend for no one.

Unfortunately, that same trait might also tear us apart.

Chapter 3

As it turned out, I recognized some of our guests, though a lot of new faces were also present. Maximus sat at the dining table next to Shrapnel, Vlad's bald, beefy third-in-command. Next to him was Mencheres, the long-haired Egyptian vampire Vlad described as his honorary sire, a title I still didn't fully understand. The slender blonde next to Mencheres was his wife, Kira. Gretchen was there, too, seated farthest from the head and looking miffed about it. Everyone rose when Vlad and I entered, which made the whole scenario odder. I hadn't been late, so why was everybody at the table already? Weren't the host and hostess supposed to greet guests before they took their seats, not arrive last and have everyone stand at attention before them?

Vampires, I decided for the umpteenth time, had the weirdest way of doing things.

Vlad led me to my usual spot at the head of the table, which caused a few slanted glances among the guests that I didn't recognize. Once there, I stood at the empty chair to his right, uncertain. Did I sit now, or wait for a signal?

"I am glad that you have come," Vlad stated, the size of the room not diminishing the strong tenor of his voice. "I know some of you traveled a great distance to be here."

I expected more, maybe a thank-you to those faraway guests, but then he lowered himself into his chair. Before Vlad, I'd never guessed that the simple act of sitting could look regal and intimidating, yet he pulled it off every time.

Everybody else took their seats, so I did, too, wishing I'd been given an Undead Etiquette for Dummies manual. From the too-fluid way they moved, none of his guests were human. I was used to being around vamps in a casual setting - or a violent one - but this was my first formal event. If I screw anything up, it's on you, I thought to Vlad while affixing a pleasant smile on my face.

His mouth twitched, the only indication that he heard me. Then he gestured to his left.

"Leila, you already know Maximus, Shrapnel, Mencheres, and Kira, but let me introduce the rest of our guests."

I kept that pleasant smile throughout a list of names I hoped I wasn't expected to remember, because all twenty-eight seats at the huge table were filled. When I'd first seen the dining room with its wall of fireplaces, three-story ceiling, and gargantuan chandelier, I'd thought it was a dazzling waste of space since only me and Vlad ate here. Now its size and splendor came in handy. We would've needed another table if he'd invited more friends, and judging from the women's jewels and the men's resplendent tuxedos, those present were used to luxury.

I wasn't. Neither was Gretchen, who looked as ill at ease as I felt. Our father had been a career military man, so we'd grown up in modest surroundings that frequently varied depending on his change of duty stations. When I struck out on my own at eighteen, I'd scrounged for jobs that didn't involve technology or touching people - and all decent-paying jobs required one or the other. If I hadn't met Marty and joined his traveling carnival act, I might have ended up on the streets.

I certainly wouldn't have wound up at Vlad's, smiling at strangers through a sea of crystal glasses that servants filled with a dark red liquid too thick to be wine. Those same servants then brought out enough food to feed everyone twice over despite Gretchen and I being the only humans. Nerves had stolen my appetite but I dug in with feigned gusto, wondering when Vlad would reveal the true purpose behind this occasion. He didn't invite over two dozen people to his house merely to show off. Vlad was many things, but pretentious wasn't one of them.

The bombshell behind this event dropped during dessert. I'd just helped myself to a spoonful of bourbon butterscotch creme br?lee when Vlad stood and all chatter stopped.

"Thank you all for coming," he said in the sudden silence. "As you are either friends or honored members of my line, I wanted each of you to witness my actions now."

Then he moved behind my chair, resting his hand on my shoulder. I resisted the urge to twist around so I could see him. What's going on? I thought nervously.

He ignored the question. "Most of you know that Leila has been my lover for the past few months. In addition, she also risked her life to save my people and demonstrated unwavering loyalty even during torture. Because of her great value to me, I now offer her an eternal bond, if she accepts."

Then he leaned down, breath warm on my neck as he whispered his next words. "You've wondered if I felt differently about you since your abilities diminished. Let this serve as your answer."

I caught a glimpse of his scarred hand before he placed a small velvet box in front of me. My heart started to pound while my mind overloaded with shock and joy. At the far end of the table, I heard Gretchen gasp. Out of all possible reasons behind the surprise fancy dinner, I hadn't expected this. Things had indeed changed between us, in the best way possible.

"Vlad, I . . ."

Coherent thought and words might have failed me, but my motor skills didn't. With hands trembling from joy, I slowly opened the ebony box.

Gretchen rocketed out of her chair to come toward me. At some point, happy tears must've sprung to my eyes because the box's content was blurry. Still, I could make out a ring. An avalanche of happiness swept over me. It wasn't until now that I realized how much I loved Vlad and how fervently I'd hoped that he loved me, too. I blinked to see the ring more clearly . . . and then my elation became tempered with confusion.

Maximus caught Gretchen's arm before she reached me, but she was still close enough to get a look inside the box.

"You cheapskate, that's not a diamond!" she announced with her usual tactlessness. "What kind of engagement ring is that?"

I'd wondered at his choice, too, since I recognized the ring as a replica of the heirloom that had been passed down from Vlad's father to him. No matter, I'd cherish any engagement ring he gave me. Besides, maybe proposing with a replica was a Dracul family tradition -

"It's not an engagement ring," Vlad replied crisply to Gretchen. "It's the symbol of membership in my line. All the vampires I've made carry one."

At those words, my ecstatic jumble of thoughts crystallized into one heartrending realization: He's not proposing. He's only offering to make you a vampire!

Vlad straightened and his hand left my shoulder. He'd heard that. With how it had roared across my mind, he'd have to be telepathically deaf to have missed it.

I knew I should sing something to keep him from hearing anything else, but I couldn't think up a single verse. My pride screamed at me to act as though I hadn't misunderstood, yet all I could do was clutch that box while my previous joy turned to ashes. Nothing had changed except Vlad thought my humanity needed an upgrade, and he'd decided to inform me of that with a roomful of vampires as witnesses.

I glanced up. Our guests' gazes skipped away with pitying quickness while their uncomfortable shifting told me Vlad wasn't alone in figuring out my misinterpretation. If I hadn't felt as though my heart had been ripped out and flambeed in front of me, I would have been mortified.

Gretchen's voice broke the loaded silence. "You want Leila to become a vampire? That is so creepy!"

"Maximus," Vlad bit out.

The brawny vampire had Gretchen hoisted up with his hand over her mouth before I could blink. Normally, such handling of my sister would've incensed me. At the moment, I was trying too hard to pull myself together to respond.

"Leila," Vlad began.

"Don't."

The word snapped out with all the force of my shattered hopes. I got up, almost overturning my chair, but it was either get out of here now or burst into tears, and I still had enough pride not to do that in front of everyone.

"I need some air," I muttered.

And some razors to finish the job you started when you were sixteen, my hated inner voice supplied.

I ignored that, blasting the first song that came to mind to hide my thoughts. It turned out to be "Taps."

Figures.

Then I left as fast as my new high heels could carry me.

Chapter 4

I went straight to the small, rubber-lined room in the basement level that Vlad had set up for me. Once inside, I yanked off my right glove. As soon as I did, electricity spat out of my hand in sizzling strands as the emotions I tried to control manifested in miniature energy bolts. I gathered those currents into a single pulsating rope and then whipped it toward the stone statue in the room.

Its head came off, bouncing onto the base it was welded to. Another snap of currents and the statue lost an arm. Then the other arm. Then everything above the waist, yet my seething hurt, disappointment, and humiliation didn't lessen. Instead, I felt like I could go nuclear at any moment.

I didn't stop lashing the statue until it lay in dozens of ragged pieces. Before Vlad, I'd only worked to suppress my power, much as I'd done with the loneliness that came from my inability to touch anyone without harming them.

Vlad had changed all that. He taught me to turn my abilities into an asset and awakened feelings in me I'd never thought to experience. He was more than my first lover. He was also my first love, yet I'd let myself fall too deeply. Despite all the warnings, I'd dared to hope that one day, he might feel the same way about me. This is where that hope had led me: to a basement, taking out my crushed dreams on an inanimate object.

I looked at the remains of the statue and felt a grim sort of kinship. Like me, it used to be solid and whole. Now, also like me, it was so shredded from destructive emotions that neither of us would be the same.

"Damn you," I whispered, and didn't know if it was directed at me, or the vampire I'd foolishly fallen in love with.

My gorgeous dress was now damp from my exertions, but I didn't care. I wasn't going back to dinner. Everyone had figured out the reason why I left so they'd understand my continued absence. If they didn't, screw 'em. I was done being the evening's entertainment.

Worn out, I climbed up the multiple flights of stairs to my room, glad I didn't pass anyone along the way. With luck, Vlad would be up late with his guests and I wouldn't see him until tomorrow. It would give me some much-needed solitude.

That's why I groaned when I saw that my bedroom wasn't empty. Vlad stood by the settee, hands clasped behind him, that cursed jewelry box thankfully out of sight. A rake of his gaze took in my sweaty, disheveled appearance.

"Feeling better now?" he asked with his usual bluntness.

Not even close. Just seeing him shattered the fragile control my electrical workout had given me.