This isn’t my Jaxon, the voice inside me all but screams. This caricature from every B vampire movie in existence isn’t the boy I love. He’s a monster, one teetering on the brink of losing all control.

“Get out,” he snarls at me again, his dark eyes finally finding mine. But they aren’t his eyes, not really, and I shrink back at the soulless, bottomless depths staring out at me even as the voice deep inside me echoes his words. Get out, get out, get out!

Something’s wrong with him—really wrong—and while there’s a part of me that’s terrified for him, right now there’s a much bigger part that’s terrified of him. And that part is definitely in control as I scramble off the bed, careful not to make any movements he can interpret as the least bit aggressive.

Jaxon tracks me with his eyes, and the snarling gets worse as I start inching toward the door. But he doesn’t move, doesn’t make any attempt to stop me—just watches me with narrowed eyes and gleaming fangs.

Run, run, run! The voice inside me is full-on screaming now, and I’m more than ready to listen to it.

Especially when Jaxon bites out, “Get. Out.”

The fear and urgency in his voice cuts right through me and has me running for the door, to hell with worrying if that will trigger the killer in him or not. He’s already triggered and if I don’t heed his warning, I’ll have no one to blame but myself. Especially when it’s obvious he’s doing everything in his power to give me the chance to escape.

With that in mind, I stumble to the door as fast as my shaky legs can carry me. It’s heavy, so I grab on with both hands and pull as hard as I can. But I’m weak from blood loss and it barely budges the first time. I can feel Jaxon getting closer, can feel him looming over me as I try desperately to find the strength to make the door move.

“Please,” I beg. “Please, please, please.” At this point I don’t know if I’m talking to Jaxon or the door.

He must not know, either, because suddenly his hand is there on the door handle, pulling it wide open. “Go,” he hisses out of the corner of his mouth.

I don’t have to be told twice. I scramble over the threshold and through the reading alcove, desperate to make it to the stairs…and as far from this evil incarnation of Jaxon as I can possibly get.

It’s a small alcove, only a matter of feet between me and freedom. But I’m so light-headed right now that I can barely stand upright and I sway with every step I take.

Still, I’m determined to get to the stairs. Determined to save Jaxon the pain of having killed another person that he cares about. Whatever is happening right now isn’t his fault—even as messed up as I am at the moment, I can see that something is very, very wrong.

But there will be no convincing him of that if anything happens to me, no way of getting him to believe that this—whatever this is—isn’t completely his fault. And so I dig deep, push myself harder than I ever have before in an effort to save myself…and in turn, save Jaxon.

I use every ounce of energy I have to make it to the top of the stairs, but I do make it. Crawl down them if you have to, the voice inside me yells. Do whatever you need to do.

I grab on to the wall, push myself around the edge of the stairs, and prepare to take my first shaky step down. Except I slam right into Lia before I can ever take that step.

“Not feeling so good, Grace?” she asks, and there’s an edge to her voice that I’ve never heard before. “What’s the matter?”

“Lia, oh thank God! Help him, please. Something’s wrong with Jaxon. I don’t know what it is, but he’s losing control. He’s—”

She slaps me across the face so hard it knocks me into the nearest wall. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” she tells me. “Now sit down and shut up, or I’ll let Jaxon have you.”

I stare at her in shock, my sluggish brain having trouble assimilating this new turn of events. Only when Jaxon races, snarling, out of his room, does any sense of clarity kick in, brought on by the terror sweeping through me.

I’m pretty sure Lia’s no match for Jaxon on a normal day—no one is—but now that something’s wrong with him, I’m not so sure.

“Jaxon, stop!” I yell, but he’s too busy putting himself between me and Lia to listen.

“Get away from her!” he orders, as things start flying off the shelves all around us.

Lia just sighs. “I knew I should have made the tea stronger. But I was afraid it would kill your little pet, and I couldn’t let that happen. At least not yet.”

She shrugs, then says in a kind of singsong voice, “No worries,” right before she pulls a gun out of her pocket and shoots Jaxon straight in the heart.

   56

Vampire

Girl Gone Wild

I scream, try to get to him, but all I manage to do is fall to my knees. I’m weak and dizzy and nauseous…so nauseous. The room is spinning and waves of cold are sweeping through my body, tightening my muscles and making it impossibly hard to breathe, to move.

And still I try to reach Jaxon. I’m sobbing and screaming as I crawl across the floor, terrified that she’s killed him. I know it’s not easy to kill a vampire, but I’m pretty sure that if anyone would know how to do it, it would be another vampire.

“God, would you shut up already!” Lia kicks me so hard in the stomach that she knocks the breath out of me. “I didn’t kill him. I just tranq’d him. He’ll be fine in a few hours. You, on the other hand, won’t be so lucky if you don’t stop that incessant whimpering.”

Maybe she expects me to get hysterical all over again at that threat, but it isn’t exactly a shock. As drugged and unable to think as I am right now, my mind is still working well enough to figure out that I won’t be getting out of this alive. Which is saying something considering I can barely remember my own name at the moment.

“You should have drunk more tea,” she tells me, disgust evident in her voice. “Everything would be easier if you just did what you were supposed to do, Grace.”

She’s looking at me like she expects me to say I’m sorry, which definitely isn’t happening. Besides, what would that even look like? Oops? So sorry I’m making it harder for you to kill me?

Give me a break.

Lia keeps talking, but it’s getting harder and harder for me to follow what she’s saying. Not when the room is spinning and my head is muddled and all I can think about is Jaxon.

Jaxon, twirling me through the aurora borealis.

Jaxon, staring at me with hellish eyes.