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“Also no need,” she said, keeping her eyes on Dominique and her voice low.

“I wasn’t…I don’t know where all that came from. I’m sorry if anything…upset you.”

You were accidentally compelled by a powerful vampire in the throes of passion with an open circuit to your brain,she thought, but saw no point in discussing it further, given present circumstances. Turning away from the kitchen to face him directly, she said, “You didn’t upset me, Jackson. Not until you gave him that damn shot.”

His square jaw tensed. “I didn’t know.”

“And you don’t know if he’ll remember who he is tonight, do you?”

Jackson’s gaze slid away. His voice sounded strained enough to fracture. “No. I don’t.”

Cassidy inhaled as deeply as her tight chest would allow and forced herself to recall Serge’s relaxed attitude about this insane experiment. If the Dominique they knew was gone for good, he would have seen it and sounded an alarm, wouldn’t he? She clung to that hope like she did her coffee cup.

Jackson’s phone buzzed with a text message. He scowled as his thumbs tapped a response. Before he could send it, the device rang. He cursed and turned away, shoulders hunched, to accept the call. She marveled at the awkward excuse he spun for missing his Sunday morning run with Olivia today. The Jackson she knew was a far smoother liar than that.

After the call ended, he dropped the phone on the table and buried his face in both hands. “God, I really want to do right by her, but fuck. After last night? I don’t even know where to start.” He dropped his hands to look at the ceiling, fresh color in his unshaven cheeks. “Maybe we should wait a bit before you talk to her. About anything.”

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t be mentioning anything that…um…didn’t really happen.”

Jackson gave her such a frazzled look she almost felt sorry for him. Then he glanced into the kitchen behind her and all the exhaustion vanished. In the blink of an eye, the hunter was back. “Where the fuck is he?”

She spun in her chair. Breakfast lay abandoned in mid-prep on the countertop. The door to the side yard swayed in the breeze.

The cook was nowhere to be seen.

8

Side Effects

Dominiquewokeatduskto his stomach punching into the back of his throat. His whole body convulsed, determined to turn inside out, as he hunched on hands and knees. Powerless, he could only let it happen, could only watch a thick stream of pulp hurtle out of his gullet and explode on the paving stones.

“Yeah. I thought that might happen,” said a man he vaguely recognized. He reached for the man’s—Jackson’s—mind, but it was like feeling the shape of a thing through a thick layer of cotton. Only fear and tension greeted him. More of the same came from a woman—Cassidy—muted and distant. So much fear.

“Dominique?” she asked, her voice tentative. “Please tell me you know who I am.”

He rolled to sit on his hip and looked up at her. She was borderline frantic. His hand shook as he wiped the back of it across his mouth. “Cassie,mon amour.”

She was in his arms before the words had fully left his lips. “Oh, thank God. You’re back.”

“What…what happened?” Only a storm of conflicting impressions met him in her mind. “How did I get out here?”

“Really?” Jackson said. He stood over them with hands on hips. “You don’t remember the total fucking asshole you’ve been all day?” Samantha stood by her brother’s side, arms crossed, fingers of one hand pressed to her mouth.

“The suppressant,” Dominique murmured. Watching that syringe fill was the last thing he remembered with any clarity.

Over the next few minutes, they filled him in on the harrowing events of the day he spent in the sun. Their words sketched the outlines, while Cassidy’s memories filled in the details. He had verbally abused them, insulted them, tricked them. He even attempted an escape.

“Of course, you forgot how fast you really are, so I tracked you down quick enough.” Tracked him down and tackled him in Mrs. Havashand’s backyard. Jackson had survived the altercation that ensued only because Dominique also forgot how strong he was. That and the drop of blood he had forced on Jackson the night before, had given the human the edge.

Mrs. Havashand had called the police. Jackson smooth-talked the officers out of making reports. Dominique held his tongue because Cassidy implored him that it was in his best interest to stay with them and hear them out. They told him tales of being ill, of running from criminal organizations, of fighting to keep his family safe by remaining in hiding.

Anything but the fantastical truth.

Through it all, Dominique of the day sneered at them, tried their every nerve, and emotionally tortured Cassidy to the breaking point. Spending the day with him was supposed to be a joy. Instead, she was forced to spend it with a bitter, suspicious stranger. She had no sense of him, no connection, no rapport at all. He was a walking, talking blank spot in her house and mind. The most brutal abandonment of all.

“You were a first-rate, unmitigated son of a bitch,” Jackson finished with feeling. They had moved to the kitchen by now. Samantha and Serge—who had stopped by long enough to confirm Dominique’s continued existence—had retreated to the pool house. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m actuallythrilledto have the blood-sucking demon lord version of you back.”

Dominique was appalled. “I recall none of this. I walked in the sun and…remember nothing.”