Gilles gave a short nod, then glanced at Preacher.

He then began to speak in French. Preacher answered likewise.

Estelle shot me a look of worry.

This is when I knew things weren’t looking all that sweet.

“Calm down, calm down,” Luc said quietly as he leaned over. “They’re simply discussing your abilities.”

“Why am I not in the discussion, then?” I whispered. “Don’t I have a say?”

“No,” Eli answered. “Not at all.”

I wasn’t too surprised by his answer. “How’s it looking?” I asked.

“Not too good,” he replied.

Both Gilles and Preacher lifted their heads and glanced my way. Both studied, regarded, weighed. The longer they stared, the more I wanted to shout What! at the top of my lungs. Then, they put their heads together again. Discussed. Chatted. For several minutes. In French.

“You’re in,” Eli finally offered.

Gilles crossed the room to stand in the center. “Yes, Riley, you’re in. But there are stipulations, of course,” he said. “First, you will never be alone. Either Eli, Jean-Luc, Séraphin, or Noah will always be with you.” He shot a glance at my brother. “Same with young Seth, and Zetty.” Gilles’ gaze lingered on Zetty. “You may be an intimidating mortal young man, but, after all, you are still a mortal. Even with your formidable tendencies, you can be destroyed.”

Zetty nodded, silent.

“If there are any newlings or those in the quickening that can be spared, they must be gathered and brought to Da Island for rehabilitation. The fewer killings, the better. Understood?”

Multiple heads nodded.

The room tilted.

I blinked, shook my head, and blinked again. Gilles’ voice became muffled, far away, until the words melded together, now meaningless. I staggered, leaned against Eli, and held my stomach as he whipped me around. As I stared up into his face, my eyes locked on his mouth; his lips moved frantically, speaking frantically and fast. No sound emerged. I understood nothing. Then, as if someone pulled a shade down in a bright room, shadows slipped over my lids, and I saw nothing but blackness.

I knew then he was about to kill again.

As the shadow slowly lifted, I blinked several times to clear my vision. The lights were dim—so dim I could still barely make out shapes. Music thumped hard all around me. I recognized it—“So What, I Lied” by Sick Puppies. People glanced my way, barely noticing me at all as they moved to the music. Lights flickered, flashed, and I continued through the thick throng of clubbers, to the bar near the back. I sat. I wasn’t alone long.

“There you are,” a girl said. She wore a short purple glittered minidress with a zipper pulled down the front, exposing a swell of pushed-up breasts. She wore tall spiked black heels, a lot of makeup, and had her bleached blond hair piled loosely atop her head. “Come on, baby. Let’s dance.”

Delicate hands tipped with red acrylic fingernails grasped my hand and pulled me back into the throng of dancing people. The hand she touched wasn’t my hand; the ass she grabbed wasn’t mine either. When I looked down, the hand holding her waist was large, big-knuckled, rough. We began to move; she seductively, brushing against me, her tongue darting out to lick her painted lips. Holding my gaze, she grasped the zipper and pulled lower, allowing more of her breasts to spill. She grinned, shimmied down my front, and slowly raised her body, dragging it against mine. All I could do was cringe in revulsion because, although the body wasn’t mine, I felt his emotions. His cock was hard beneath the leather pants he wore. The girl’s gaze lowered and she noticed, turned around, and pressed her ass close.

Hands not mine slipped around her rib cage, her hips, and pulled her against his hard cock. The girl squirmed and wiggled; then her head fell back and she laughed. She was wasted, her gaze hazy, dim. She looked up at me backward, her eyes squinted, concentrating, focused.

I lowered my head, said something in her ear, and no matter how hard I screamed, I was trapped, somewhere back at the Duprés’, floating in some weird purgatory, and, helpless, all I could do was watch. Nothing I could do would change the situation. Smiling, laughing, the girl grabbed my hand and stumbled through the club. Then, everything began to slow; the noise in the club dulled to a low hum, a jumble of uttered words and muffled music that I didn’t recognize or understand. She turned, smiling through her high, hazy and drug-induced, and although her lips moved, no words came out. She stumbled, laughed, but I heard nothing. As we pushed out into the night, no sounds greeted my ears, no smells infiltrated my senses, and although a streetlamp lit the path directly in front of the entrance, it dulled to darkness. I saw nothing; I heard nothing. The girl in front of me disappeared. Blackness engulfed me.

Like a burst of energy, a new sensation filled me; a craving I couldn’t define, driven by lust and desire. In the darkness I groped hungrily for it, grew angry when I didn’t find it, sighed and groaned when I finally did. My fingers sought and found skin; immediately I knew I had to have it. I pulled hard, wanting it now, wanting it fiercely, and when it resisted, my anger grew. I reached, found a solid chest, sank my fingers into rock shoulders and shoved, hard—and followed. With my hands I felt for lips, found them, and devoured them with my own, deepening the kiss, tasting with my tongue, my hand holding the body fast, hard; refusing escape. I grabbed a firm jaw and held it still as I continued to ravage with my mouth, a need so fierce building within me that I had to quench it. Quench it now. Quench it yester-freaking-day.

The body tried to leave; not happening! I reached, grabbed, found a handful of thick … ropes? No, hair. Hair ropes? Whatever. I yanked hard, and the body emitted a low groan.

“Riley! Stop it!”

My eyes popped open, and as my foggy vision cleared, my consciousness regained. I don’t know how long that took—several seconds. Maybe a full minute? Eventually it happened, though. Now, in the present, in the flesh, my faculties united, I stared around the room.

And then directly into the seductive, mercury eyes of Noah freaking Miles.

Eli stood, staring at me over Noah’s shoulder, eyes flashing, brows furrowed.,

The scent of … something sharp caught my senses.

A few chuckles sounded in the room.

With a jerk, I let Noah’s dreadlocks loose. Dick.

“Ow, babe,” he said, holding his head and grinning. “Easy on the dreads.”

“What … just happened?” I asked, fuming. Raising my fingers to my lips, I pressed against them. They felt numb. And they burned a little.

More chuckles sounded.

“Noah used his special powers and pulled you from that horrible vision you were in the middle of,” Luc said, draping an arm over my shoulder and inclining his head in Noah’s direction. “Eli tried first but was, surprisingly, unsuccessful. You should thank Noah for saving you.”

I grabbed the silver hoop in Luc’s lip and pulled. “Ow, ow, ow,” he laughed/cried. I let go and elbowed him in the gut. I know it didn’t hurt him, but he had the good grace to grunt and pretend anyway. He stood, grinning.

Then I turned to Gilles, then to Preacher. “Sorry for … whatever I just did.” I knew what I just did. I’d almost fornicated with freaking Noah, right in the Duprés’ freaking parlor, with everyone, including Eli, freaking watching—including Seth. I turned to him quickly. “Sorry you had to see that, Bro.”

He exaggerated a shudder. “Scarred for life.”

I shook my head and looked hard at Noah. He shrugged. I sought Eli’s gaze. I mouthed, I’m sorry. With a quick snap, he punched Noah in the jaw. Then, satisfied, he gave me a surprise reaction. He grinned. Noah merely rubbed his jaw and smiled.

“What did you see, ma chérie?” Gilles asked, gracefully drawing the conversation to more important things.

Eli stood behind me again, his hand on my lower back. I rubbed my forehead, ran my hand to the back of my neck, and remembered. “When my vision cleared, I was in a club—I didn’t recognize it. Packed with people, though, and the girl …” I stood in the center of the parlor, squeezing my eyes shut but seeing. “She was typical of his kills—young, midtwenties maybe, bleached blond hair, super short dress, super high heels, and super, super wasted.” I shook my head. “She had no clue at all about who or what he was. She was leading him out of the club when”—I glanced at Noah and narrowed my eyes—“Noah rescued me.”

Noah simply shrugged and smiled.

“Unfortunately, she has met her fate by now,” Gilles said. He clasped his hands behind his back and glanced around the room. “There is nothing we can do from here. You leave collectively in the morning, unless some of you wish to go tonight.”

Noah gave Gilles a short nod. “My group will head back tonight, but we thank you for the invitation.”

“My cousin Garr, he will have somethin’ for you dis night, right?” Preacher said. “You know where to meet him? Pick it up, yeah?”

“We do,” Noah said.

Preacher met his gaze. “Good, den. You take it and keep it wit you.”

Noah nodded. “Thanks, Preach. We will.”

Preacher turned to Eli. “Jack and Tuba, dey go wit you in da morning, dat’s right. Dey stays wit Riley along wit da rest of you fellas. I don want her near dat fightin’ by herself. Seth neider. Zetty goes, too.”

Eli nodded. “Yes, sir.”

With his hand to the back of his neck, Preacher looked at me. “Don you be actin’ crazy, girl. Dat boy Eli, he’ll be wit you. You got dese boys here, too, and Jack and Tuba. You don go actin’ foolish.”

“Yes, sir, I won’t,” I promised, and turned to Gilles. “Will it be okay here? With all of us gone?”

Gilles smiled and crossed the room, took my hands in his, and pressed his lips to my knuckles. I found it strange how it hardly even crossed my mind that a vampire’s fangs slipped so close to my skin. “Young lady, I may be older, but I have a few good fights still in me, as does my Elise. We have your Preacher and his kin here, as well as their magic. We’ll be more than fine.”