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his eye. “I bet you’re hell at parties.”

I wrinkled my nose. “What?”

He pointed at my hand, which was still hanging in the air but beginning to wilt. “You know, zapping unsuspecting people.”

Great, another jackass.

I sighed and let my hand fall, but Declan caught it before it reached my side, giving it a firm shake before releasing me. A marked ruddiness stained his cheekbones.

“I’m sorry, that was in poor taste. Good to meet you, Fiona.” He cleared his throat. “I was told you might be hungry.”

“God, yes,” I said emphatically.

Declan chuckled. “I can fix that. Follow me.”

We walked down an elegant hallway with dark wood floors and white walls to the elevator at its end. Declan depressed a button on the wall, then pulled a keycard from his pocket.

“I’d better give this to you now so I don’t forget,” he said and handed it to me.

I stared dubiously at the silver card, not plastic as I’d assumed, but a lightweight metal etched with a complex design.

“What’s this for?”

“The elevator. Access to this floor is restricted.”

I glanced back down the hallway. Across from the bedroom I’d woken up in was another, matching door, and at the far end were double doors. All were closed. A touch of claustrophobia tickled the back of my throat.

I looked at Declan. “A key to my own prison, huh?”

He squinted at me in confusion. “You’re a guest, not a prisoner.” At my skeptical look, he continued intently, “You’re staying in the private residence of the Prime. His rooms are at the end of the hall and the one opposite yours is his library.”

I blinked, shook my head, and blinked again, but the words were still ridiculous. Declan smirked. “Most women would kill to be in your position, but from the look on your face, I’d say you’d rather run screaming.”

I blurted, “What if the elevator breaks?”

He frowned. “Why would it break?”

I opened my mouth, then closed it, realizing my former issues with disrupting electrical circuits were, at least temporarily, irrelevant.

“Are there stairs, at least?”

Declan’s pale eyes twinkled with humor. “Hatching an escape plan?”

In spite of my anxiety, I grinned. “I thought you said I wasn’t a prisoner.”

The elevator pinged and the doors parted on a willowy blond. At the sight of us, she paused mid-step, her full red lips parting in surprise. Hazel eyes narrowed on Declan before shifting to my face. I winced at the cold zing of eye contact and looked quickly down.

I wasn’t sure if she was a daywalker vamp like the Prime or had been turned by Ascension, but either way, she was packing a lot of power. And I was defenseless.

“Who is this?” she snapped. “Where’s Connor?”

Declan stood stiffly beside me, clearly not a fan of the vamp. Based on the disdain I’d glimpsed in my brief eye contact with her, I felt safe predicting I wasn’t going to be a fan, either.

“Samantha, this is Fiona.”

I glanced at Declan sharply—his voice was a bit too smug for comfort. My suspicions were confirmed when he added brightly, “She’s staying in the Consort’s suite.”

The resulting silence was almost worse than hysterics. Still avoiding eye contact with the vamp, I shifted until Declan’s broad shoulder was between us. If she came at me, I wanted him in the way.

Behind us, a door clicked open.

“Samantha,” said that smooth, amused voice I was beginning to loathe. “Ms. Sullivan is immune to you, so you may cease trying to influence her.”

I stiffened in surprise, glancing over my shoulder to see a bare-chested Prime standing in the library’s doorway. Unsurprisingly, his upper body was a study in chiseled perfection.

My mouth went a little dry.

“Declan, please don’t bait Samantha. And Fiona…” His gaze flickered to my hair. “After you’ve eaten, please join me in the library.”

When he looked at Samantha and nodded once, I started breathing again. She strode past us, graceful on her four-inch stilettos, but not before sliding me a glare of undiluted malice. I instinctively recoiled, which brought me flush to Declan’s side. His shifter aura was a good deal more potent than my father’s, but was familiar enough to dull the edges of my fear.

“You okay?” he murmured.

I shuddered. “Yeah. She’s a real peach.”

He snorted, and we watched like voyeurs of a train wreck as Samantha greeted the Prime with a full-body press and an excess of tongue.

“Yuck,” I breathed, shaking my head. “Can we go?”

“Hell yes,” said Declan, and we stepped quickly into the elevator.

The doors began to slide shut, and because I couldn’t help myself, I took one more look down the hallway. Samantha’s mouth was on the Prime’s throat, her blond head tucked into his neck. His eyes, now dark as the forest outside, were locked on mine.

When the elevator doors thumped closed, I released a shaky breath and glanced at Declan. “Let me guess, Samantha’s the jealous type?”

He smirked. “You could say that. I’m sure after Connor explains your presence, she’ll leave you alone.”

I sighed, doubting his assessment. “Is there a private kitchen? I don’t think I can handle any more surprises tonight.”

He nodded, eyes softening with compassion. “Adam told me why you’re here, and about the spelled bracelets. I can’t begin to imagine what you must be feeling right now. If someone took away my ability to shift…” He shook his head, whistling beneath his breath.

I clenched my hands, his words compounding my ache of loss. “It’s not pleasant, I’ll say that.”

“I’m sure it’s only temporary.”

He didn’t sound convinced, and neither did I as I said, “Yeah, temporary.”

7

Declan Thomas made a mean grilled cheese sandwich, packed with basil, tomatoes, and four types of cheese. After I scarfed down two of them, he insisted I drink two tall glasses of water to rehydrate. In reward, he presented me with an icy bottle of imported beer.

We sat at a table in a small kitchen somewhere in the rear of the Prime’s compound. The main kitchen, he explained, would be chaos at this hour, filling dinner orders for hundreds of shifters and mages, and bottled breakfasts for newly risen vamps. As promised, he’d circumvented the main hallways by sticking to stairwells and shadowed corridors. Whether intentional or not, I had no hope of finding my way back to the elevator without him.

I eventually found the courage to ask him why he’d been scowling when I opened the door. He told me he’d been thinking about his laundry. After having a good laugh, we did the usual small talk routine. Favorite sports teams. Starbucks or Seattle’s Best. Star Trek or Star Wars, et cetera. The conversation veered off, evolved, and I soon concluded that at least one member of the Western Triumvirate was relatively normal.

After accepting my second beer, I asked, “So tell me, is it a big, happy, cross-species family here at the compound?”

Declan took a swig from his own bottle before replying. “Hardly, but interaction is mostly limited to meal times and weekly assemblies. It helps that Connor built three separate wings with private entrances and exits. The two above ground are for the shifters and mages, the one below for the vamps.”

I whistled. “I can understand you having your pack close, but why so many vamps and mages?”

He gave me a look that said he wholeheartedly agreed, but capitulated with, “The mages are here to learn from the Omega. There’s usually twenty or so living onsite at any given time. As for the vamps, it’s not a well-known fact, but Connor maintained a nest after being appointed Prime. He has thirty vamps who call him master.”

I shuddered in exaggerated horror. “Including Samantha, I presume?”

Declan shook his head, grinning. “He met her at a benefit function in Seattle last year. She definitely wants to be invited into the fold, though. In case you didn’t notice, she has her eye on that Consort’s suite.”

I thought of Samantha as I’d last seen her, her face against the Prime’s neck. Grimacing, I asked, “Does he feed all his vamps?”

He nodded, humored by my reaction. “Some more than others. It’s considered a great gift to drink from one as old as he.” I lifted my brows questioningly and he grinned. “Oh, no. You’ll have to ask him yourself.”

I brought my beer to my lips, only to realize the bottle was empty. The heady brew had warmed my muscles and given me a pleasant glow.

I set the bottle down and sighed. “I suppose it’s time to answer the Prime’s summons.”

“You don’t have to call him that,” said Declan with mirth. “He prefers Connor.”

I shook my head but didn’t elaborate. I wasn’t sure I could. Connor Thorne was the Prime, nothing more or less. Instead, I stood and clasped my hands before my chest.

“Take me to your leader?”

He laughed, standing to collect our bottles and toss them into a nearby recycle bin. He met me at

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