Kerestyan allowed his eyes to return to the woman resting only a few feet away, noting the shallow and erratic rise and fall of her chest. Something told him that if she hadn’t forged a bond with anyone during the stress that must have been her life thus far, it certainly wasn’t going to happen now.


And it definitely wouldn’t be with him.


Bothered by the thought a little more than he expected, he rested a knee on the bed and leaned forward. He gently brushed the damp shards of hair from her forehead and watched as her eyes slowly fluttered open.


A smile touched just the corners of her mouth. “I hate you.”


He returned the gesture and absently tucked a shock of hair behind her ear. “I’d profess you were the first to say such a thing to me, but it wouldn’t be true.”


“Somehow, I’m not surprised.” The words left her lips as a quiet, raspy whisper. She sounded so weak, so far removed from the woman he’d met in the alley almost twenty-four hours ago.


He stiffened. Had only such small amount of time passed?


For him, it truly felt like more.


He nudged the glass into the hand resting on her abdomen. “I brought you some water.”


“I know,” she breathed as her fingers closed around it. “I heard the ice tinking against the glass when you walked in.” She grimaced as she sat up and raised it to her dry lips. “Not very stealthy for an old vampire, are you?”


He couldn’t help but smile as her eyes wandered across his bare chest then lingered on his abdomen. “I assure you, when necessity dictates, not only am I able to move unseen but unheard as well.”


Her eyes made a slow journey back to his. “You look good in black pajama pants.”


“You look better without them.”


Her mouth curved into a devious grin as she moved to set the empty glass on the nightstand. Unfortunately, her smile faded as she fully extended her arm and it began shaking. Lips drawn into a tight frown, she pulled back and leaned against the lone pillow. “I hate this part.”


He started to request an explanation, but stopped when the tremor crept to her other arm, moving slowly until it encompassed her entire body. It wasn’t long before her teeth clicked together, despite the repeated flex of her jaw muscles as she attempted to stave it off. If it weren’t for the trickle of sweat sliding down her cheek, he might have believed she was cold with the way she sucked in deep breaths between her trembling lips.


She rolled onto her side and hugged her knees to her chest. “I appreciate the water, but you should probably go. You don’t want to see this.”


He cast a glance to the door then back to her. Why he’d made the movement, he wasn’t sure. He had no intention of leaving her, and deep down he knew it. He couldn’t leave her alone, couldn’t walk away knowing with utter certainty that whether he was in the living room or his own sleeping chamber, she would be the only image in his mind.


He sat down on the edge of the bed. “I don’t want to see it, or you don’t want me to see it?”


She rolled her eyes. “If you want to watch me shake like the owner of a Chinese buffet when two six hundred pound men walk through the doors, by all means, stick around.”


How could he not smile at that? “You, my dear, have the most interesting sense of humor I’ve ever had the pleasure of experiencing.”


She coughed out a laugh as the muscles in her abdomen tightened and flexed. “I’m glad you approve. Now, would you be so kind as to find something you can use to tie me to the bed?”


The beast in his stomach shifted in excitement, but he refused it. “Now is hardly the time for those kinds of activities. However, I’d be more than happy to fulfill that request, and more, after you’ve met my Father.”


Her face took on a deadly edge. “No, Kerestyan. I’m serious. I need you to tie my hands to the bed, now.”


“Logan, I’m not going to tie you to the bed. You’re in no condition to be bound.”


She fisted her hands against her chest and squeezed her eyes closed. “You have to!” She rolled her head from side to side, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. “If you don’t…I’ll scratch until I bleed.”


He stood up and studied her movements, trying to understand what was happening to her. “What are you talking about?”


“When it starts to hurt,” she shrieked. “When it feels like whatever’s inside me is oozing out, eating my skin. The chewing, the burning…it hurts so much…” she trailed off in a painful wail.


Kerestyan lunged forward as she dragged her fingernails down her neck. He dropped a knee on either side of her midsection and seized her hands when she tried to repeat the action. Staring down at the bright scarlet trails marring her flesh, he held her wrists while she twisted and writhed beneath him. She cried out as tears spilled from her eyes, as if some invisible enemy was tearing her apart from the inside.


Chills raced the length of his spine as he listened to her scream. He wasn’t prepared for this, wasn’t ready to see her this way. Not knowing what else to do for her or how to help her, he summoned the one person who’d always been there for him no matter the situation.


Relief snapped like a thick rubber band in his stomach when a rather perplexed looking Odin appeared next to the bed. He tightened his grip on Logan’s wrists but stared at his brother. “I need your help.”


Odin clamped his hands over his ears. “For fuck’s sake, she’s loud.” He wrinkled his nose. “What the hell are you doing to her?”


“I’m holding her down.”


He rolled his black eyes. “I can see that. Why?”


“Because I don’t know what else to do!” Kerestyan heard his voice fill the room, but couldn’t remember a time it had ever sounded so strained, so damn desperate.


His own shock was reflected in his brother’s face. “What’s going on?”


“She’s going through withdrawal.” He ground his teeth together. “Vouclade told me to give her water. He never said anything about this. He never said I’d have to watch her fall apart in front of me!”


Odin narrowed his eyes, the concern quickly fading from his face. “Need I remind you, she did this to herself?” He reached out and grabbed her arm just below Kerestyan’s hand. “Do you see those dark blotches?”


Kerestyan considered the small, dark red marks littering Logan’s forearm. But when he didn’t answer immediately, Odin shook her arm.


“Do you see them? Those are needle tracks, Kerestyan. She asked for this. She asked for it every time she pulled out her lighter and that infamous little spoon, and then shot herself full of heroin. Don’t ask me to feel sorry for her.” He released her arm and stepped back. “Right now, she’s getting exactly what she deserves.”


“I’m not asking you to feel sorry for her. I’m asking you to help me.”


“Help you what? Help her?” He shook his head and laughed. “There’s nothing you can do for her, aside from binding her hands and locking yourself out of the goddamn room. This is part of withdrawal. And unless Vouclade’s willing to give you something to help ease her symptoms, which we both know he isn’t, you’re going to have to accept that there is nothing, absolutely nothing you can do to help her.”


When Logan stopped thrashing and went limp, the only comfort Kerestyan found was in the rhythmic pounding against the pads of his thumbs and the rapid pace of her breathing. He shifted his grip to hold her hands and locked eyes with Odin. “There has to be something.”


“There isn’t.” He motioned towards her. “And when she regains consciousness, it’ll start all over again and probably go on for another three days, if you’re lucky.” He balled his hand into a fist and growled. “What the hell is wrong with you? You’re acting like you’ve never seen this before.”


Kerestyan folded Logan’s arms and laid them carefully across her stomach before climbing off the bed. He closed the distance to Odin in two large steps. “It’s one thing to stand on a sidewalk and watch it happen fifty feet away in an alley. It’s one thing to stand in the hall of a keep and know it’s happening in a room above you. But it’s something entirely different to watch it happen in front of you, in your own home, to someone you—”


“To someone you what, Kerestyan?” Odin yelled, his lips curled into a snarl.


Kerestyan thought better of finishing his thought the way he’d originally intended. “To someone you forced into the situation.”


It took a moment before Odin’s glare relaxed. “The only part of this situation I don’t hold her responsible for is her exposure to our kind. I don’t agree with Vouclade that it’s her fault she learned about vampires. But I do think you’ve been more than amicable to her, Kerestyan. Most Lords would’ve killed her in the alley they found her in. She’d have been just another homeless drug addict found dead in a pool of her own body fluids. And we both know that story wouldn’t even make the local news.”