Natalie,

Hopefully, you will get enough sleep. You are safe here, and I’ll see you as soon as I wake. Please make yourself at home here, but do not leave the house. There are humans and vampires here who can see to any need you have while I am resting.

Baojia

She took a deep breath and tried to remember the previous night. Waking had been a blur. She hardly remembered getting dressed or packing. He’d kissed her—she remembered that. He’d been… upset. It was hard to tell with him, but she would have sworn he was deeply, deeply troubled. When he’d kissed her by the stairs, it had almost seemed desperate, and her only thought was that she wanted to comfort him. Probably ridiculous when she’d been such a basket case herself.

She’d been barely conscious when they pulled up to the luxurious home only a few blocks from Dez and Matt’s. She had faint memories of thick hedges and a wrought-iron gate. A fountain and a dimly lit kitchen. At some point, Baojia had picked her up in his arms and simply taken her to a bed—it must have been the one she was sleeping in—because she couldn’t remember much else except his whispered voice in her ear.

Rest, Natalie. I’ll be close by.

Where was he? Where did he sleep? In a bed like this in a room with no windows? Did he breathe? Did he need to? He was so… inhuman. So how had he become so familiar?

Natalie groaned and rolled over, burying her head in the cool sheets. They were safe. For now, at least. She needed food and a shower, maybe then she could get her feet under her. Sitting up, she surveyed the room she’d been sleeping in. It had sage-green walls with warm mission-style furniture. Her mangy duffel bag was sitting on top of a dresser with a bottle of water and fresh flowers placed next to it. She saw two doors, one of which she hoped was a bathroom. Rolling out of bed, she walked to the window, enjoying the sunlight streaming into the room.

Her room was on the second floor of what looked like a luxurious, Spanish-style house. Mansion might be a little too grand of a term, but not by much. The grounds were surrounded by a wall and a hedge she could just barely see over, and fruit trees and roses dotted a yard with ponds, fountains, and a large swimming pool.

“Beautiful.” She blinked. Where on earth was she? Lifestyles of the Rich and Fangy? This couldn’t be Baojia’s sire’s house, so where had they landed? She looked around the room again and walked to the painting that hung over the dresser.

“Georgia O’Keefe. I think… that’s not a reproduction.” She moved her duffel bag farther away from the priceless painting, somehow thinking it might explode and spray her bargain wardrobe all over it. “Holy shit. Holy shit, Natalie.” Baojia’s house in San Diego had been nice, but simple. This place…

She peeked in the bathroom. “Marble tub. Of course there’s a marble tub.” She let out a deep breath and surveyed her surroundings. In the past three days, she’d woken in a strange oceanfront house, what could only be called a c beSheave, and now this. She shrugged. “Nicest prison so far. I must be moving up in the world.”

Grabbing her bag, she made sure the other door was locked and went to the bathroom, mentally taking stock of how her life had changed as she showered with the Italian-labeled bath products she found.

First order of business, call Kristy. Her editor was used to her disappearing for a few days, but by now the woman was sure to be frantic and had probably called Marty and the boys. Maybe her dad, even. She tried not to wince at that. Also, she needed to get ahold of her notes. They were at the office in a locker down by the fitness center, but Kristy could get them. And she knew there was information in there that would mean more to Baojia than it had to her. Between the two of them, they might be able to find out more about Ivan and his connection to the women Tulio had buried in the desert.

Speaking of Tulio, she’d like another conversation with the strange vampire. He’d buried the bodies, but had he looked at them? Had there been any identifying documents? Any evidence that might have been destroyed? And where, precisely, had he found them? Was it even important? From what they’d discovered two nights ago, it sounded like the girls were being killed somewhere else and transported to the California desert, possibly by truck. Where had they been killed? If Ivan was behind it—and it seemed he was, judging by the death of the waitress from the bar—then Mexico was the most likely scene of the crimes. Were there any vampires in Mexico who might be friendly, or did they all owe allegiance to this mysterious cartel?

Natalie had a sudden vision of the vicious vampire Tio and others like him, chasing girls through the desert, feeding on them and killing them as if the girls were no more than prey. She shivered even in the steaming water. This was so much more dangerous than anything she’d ever investigated. She’d fallen into a world that barely seemed real, filled with creatures that looked human but were decidedly not.

And putting aside the physical danger, there were layers of history and grudges and politics she could only guess at. Forget human feuds, vampires seemed to take family dysfunction to a whole new level.

She dried off, patted her hair dry, and pulled it into a quick ponytail. She didn’t have any of her normal hair products, so it was the best she could do with the wavy mop. She remembered Baojia sitting next to her on Tulio’s couch, playing with stray curls as she chattered nervously. He seemed to like her hair. She smiled despite herself. Then she remembered his kiss and felt her face color.

“What the hell are you thinking, Nat?” She sighed and poked her head out of the larger door, curious to see more of the grand home she’d landed in. There was a long hall filled with more doors, but at one end, she could see a staircase. She crept closer and cocked her head when she heard it.