Sheridan couldn’t tear her eyes away from the sight of Hunter’s chest . It wasn’t lust, exactly, that drew her toward him, but there was an undeniable need to make some sort of physical contact. His beautiful skin glowed like onyx in the dim light of the room, but even in such low light, she could see that he was covered in scars. Not the haphazard scars that life leaves everyone with, but the meticulous scarring of someone who’d been purposefully put under a blade. She couldn’t help but move forward, almost unconsciously reaching out to touch him, to trace the lines on his skin.

But when he turned to look at her, she froze. His eyes were dark, filled with some unreadable expression. For a moment they were both still, eyes locked. Finally he scowled.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m sorry,” she stammered, snapping back into herself. “I shouldn’t have just barged in like this. But I just—”

“You’re drunk,” he stated flatly. She took a few stumbling steps back.

“I need to speak with you,” she insisted, the alcohol making her bold.

“Whatever it is,” he said, stalking forward with the grace of a jungle cat, “it can wait.”

“I just—”

“Out.”

And for the second time in so many days, she had a door slammed in her face. Back in the hall, cut off from the somehow intoxicating sight of him, Sheridan felt more awake, aware, and in control of herself. She blinked, and sped hastily down the hall toward her own room. What on earth had compelled her to go to him?

***

The next morning, Sheridan awoke in her bed, in those same silk pajamas. Bleary, she showered and dressed and enjoyed a parfait and fresh coffee that was brought to her room, along with a morning paper. It all felt very civilized, and did a good job of making her forget the oddities of the previous days. Well, at least for a little while.

When she finally emerged from her comfortable cocoon, she decided that the best thing she could do was simply go to work. She began with balancing Hunter’s personal budget before inspecting the bar orders and double-checking to make sure the figures added up. She kept her head down, getting through the day with only minimal interference from any of the other employees, human and vampire alike. She had lunch with Ty, the vampire who had shown up at her door the previous morning, and the two of them gabbed like old friends all throughout the meal. And Sheridan began to think that, maybe—if everything would only calm down a little—she could make a home here, amongst these strange, beautiful creatures.

Just as she was leaving lunch, her cell phone rang. She fished it from her handbag and stared down at the name on the screen: Kenzy. “Oh, my God,” Sheridan muttered to the empty air around her. Kenzy was a seventeen-year old the Barlows had taken in, much the same way they’d taken Sheridan in. Sheridan hadn’t found her body, but had assumed that Kenzy hadn’t made it out alive. She worked for the family during her summer breaks, but wasn’t counted as one of the regular staff, since she was underage. Maybe that’s why she survived?

Or maybe, a voice in her head whispered, the men stole Kenzy’s phone and are using it to get to you.

But she had to know. Breathlessly, Sheridan accepted the call. “Kenzy?”

“Maria, thank God,” Kenzy said, breathing a sigh of relief. And Sheridan couldn’t help but sigh as well.

“Kenzy, are you all right?”

“No,” Kenzy said, her voice tense with unshed tears. “No, I’m kind of… I’m in a lot of trouble, Maria.”

“Where are you?” she asked, heading toward the door before she could even think twice. “I’m coming to get you.” She had some of her old family left after all, and she wasn’t going to lose it.

“No, wait,” Kenzy said, her voice full of desperation. “I need you to bring whatever the thing was, um, the thing, you know?”

“What?” Sheridan asked, confounded.

“From the vault, Maria,” she clarified. “From the vault, whatever it was. I need you to bring it to me. Please. I’m in a lot of trouble and I think…Maria, they’re going to kill me if I don’t deliver.”

“Christ,” Sheridan muttered, turning to dart up the staircase toward the elevator.

“Do you know what I’m talking about?” Kenzy asked, and it occurred to her that perhaps Kenzy didn’t even really know what she was asking for.

“Yeah, Kenz,” Sheridan confirmed. “I have it. I got you. I’m coming.”

“You have to come alone, Maria. Alone, or they’ll kill me. Please hurry,” she said, choking on a little sob. “I’m so scared.”

“Just hang tight, ok?”

“Ok. Ok.”

Sheridan headed back toward her room, mentally picturing where she’d left her messenger bag with the jeweled chest inside of it.

“Where are you?”

“Some…abandoned chalet. In Vail. I’ll send you the address.”

Sheridan stopped dead in her tracks. Kenzy was also in Vail. And those men were with her. It didn’t matter—she had to help Kenzy. She grabbed her messenger bag and headed for the front of the Lodge, trying not to draw any attention to herself. Fortunately, Hunter was nowhere to be found, and so she slipped silently out the front door and into an Uber she’d called from the elevator.

She watched the sun climb over the mountains as the Uber sped across town to the chalet. When they arrived Sheridan climbed out with the messenger bag in tow and moved cautiously to the front door. She didn’t even have to knock on the door before Kenzy threw it open and embraced Sheridan, who squeezed her back.

“Maria,” she said, holding her tight. “I’m so glad to see you. God, for a while, I wasn’t even sure that you’d made it out alive.”

“Yeah,” Sheridan said, tearing up, “I thought you were dead, too.” She held the girl at arm’s length and peered down into her face. She was such a sweet kid, too skinny, with a brunette pixie cut and terror in her blue eyes.

“Did you bring it?” Kenzy asked, and Sheridan nodded, reaching into her messenger bag to pull out the jeweled box. She held it in her hands, staring down at it, still trying to suss out exactly what it was.

“Do you know why they’re after it?”

But Kenzy just shook her head. “I have no idea. But it can’t be worth dying over.”

“There, we’re in complete agreement,” Sheridan said, handing the box to Kenzy.

As soon as the box changed hands, Sheridan sensed that they were not alone. In the space of a few heartbeats, nearly a dozen people emerged out of the darkness of the chalet, surrounding them.

As the group advanced on Sheridan and Kenzy, Sheridan could see that each and every one of them were sporting a pair of razor sharp canines. Vampires.

“Stay behind me, Kenz,” Sheridan said, putting herself bodily between the girl and the encroaching vampires.

One of the vampires strode forward, and Sheridan immediately assumed that she was the leader of the group. Her platinum hair was cropped short, and she was clad in leather pants and a tight white blouse.

“Hello, ladies,” she said, hands propped on her narrow hips. “I believe you have something I want.”

Her cherry red lips pulled back to further reveal her fangs as her cohorts closed in.