Harker gave us a curious look, but he did as Nero had asked. He refilled the goblet and was handing it to the next initiate in line as Nero pulled me out of the room. The hallway we entered was dark and empty. Except for the two of us.

“What is it, angel?” I laughed. “Taking me aside to have your way with me?”

He looked at me, his face unreadable. “You’re drunk.”

“What of it?” I tried to pry his hand off of me, but Sir Ironfist refused to budge. So I traced my other hand lightly across his fingers. He had surprisingly soft skin for the gods’ hand of justice.

He watched my hand, as though he weren’t sure what to make of what I was doing. “You’re drunk on the Nectar.”

“And?”

“How do you feel?”

I cracked a smile. “Worried about me?” I dipped my lips to his fingers and kissed them.

His hand sprang open, releasing me. “This is serious, Leda.”

I stepped in closer, draping my arms over his shoulders. “Not Pandora this time? Mmm, you must really like me.”

A voice inside of my head was screaming at me to stop, demanding what the hell I was doing. I didn’t listen to it. Instead, I leaned in even closer, pressing my chest against his. I brushed my nose across his neck and inhaled. His scent flooded me, that dizzying delectably masculine flavor of sex and angel.

“You smell nice.”

“You should be sick or in pain, not wanting more,” he said.

“But I do want more.” I traced my finger across his lower lip, and he grew very still.

“You are not yourself.” Magic burned behind his eyes, an emerald fire just waiting to be released.

“Maybe this is who I really am,” I whispered against his ear.

My new fangs burned my gums, a primal need beyond mere hunger cascading through me. I dipped my mouth to his neck, and every beat of his pulse against my lips filled me with a fresh throb of excruciating desire. I had a fleeting thought that I really wasn’t myself, but the mindless, yearning nymphomaniac who’d taken hold over me tossed that thought right back out—along with all sense and reason. It was only me, the beautiful angel in front of me, and the agonizingly large distance between us.

I reached out and brushed back the caramel lock that had fallen over his forehead. As soft as silk, it glowed in the golden shimmer of the overhead Magitech lights.

“You’re so pretty. Like an angel.” I giggled at my own joke. “I bet you taste as good as you look.” My fangs caressed his neck in slow, wide circles. I could feel his blood throbbing to the surface of his skin, daring me to taste him.

I dared.

My fangs broke his skin, and his blood flooded into my mouth. But it didn’t taste like blood. It tasted like pure ecstasy. Better than the Nectar. Better than anything I’d ever tasted in my life. It tingled my tastebuds and slid down my throat, at the same time relieving and stoking the wanton need raging inside of me, my desire growing every time I drew him into me. His blood burned through mine, igniting it, setting off a chain reaction of raw arousal that shook me so hard I could hardly stand. I had to have more.

Nero caught me as I swayed, his hands on my hips. I clawed desperately at him, pulling him closer as I drank down his spicy sweetness. He groaned, grabbing me roughly, throwing me against the wall. He drew my head up so my eyes met his. They weren’t cold anymore. They were smoldering like a volcano.

“I need you,” I moaned, arching my back.

His gaze dipped to my breasts, which were swelling against my shirt. In a flash, his hands were on my top, tugging it over my head. He tossed it to the floor. His hand traced my naked skin all the way up my ribcage, teasing the edge of my bra. I lowered my hands to his belt, fumbling with the buckle. His hands slid around my bottom—then just froze.

“Harker,” he said.

I glanced over my shoulder and saw Harker standing in front of the door, his face cautiously neutral. Sanity reared its ugly head, dragging me kicking and screaming out of the bottomless bit of desire that had overridden my rational brain. As my head began to clear, the world slowly shifted back into focus. I stepped away from Nero, scooping my discarded shirt off the floor.

“You’re needed inside,” Harker told Nero. His eyes flickered to me.

My cheeks burning, I tugged my top back on over my head. Nero touched his hand to his throat, healing the savage mess I’d made of it. Then he stepped past Harker to reenter the club. Harker looked at me for a moment, his expression uncharacteristically withdrawn, then he followed him.

I went next, my high crashing big time. I couldn’t believe what I’d done. I had bitten an angel. I’d drunk from him. And I would have had sex right then and there with him in that hallway if Harker hadn’t interrupted us. What the hell was wrong with me?

I looked across the room of eighteen remaining initiates. No one had died while I’d been making out with Nero, but someone could have. The thought sobered me up further.

“Welcome to the Legion of Angels,” Nero addressed us.

As his eyes swept the crowd, I looked away. I couldn’t look at him. Not now. Not after what had passed—and almost passed—between us.

“You have been given the gods’ first gift,” Nero continued. “But you haven’t survived yet. You will need to control the hunger that comes with the gift.” He glanced at me. “You will need to learn to wield the strength, stamina, and speed. And learn to heal yourself by drawing on the lifeblood of others. Those are the powers of the Vampire’s Kiss.”