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“Here, this will help.” The woman passed her a glass of water, anticipating her needs before even Alex was aware of her scratchy throat. She nodded her thanks and tilted the rim to her mouth while studying the guy with the clipboard.

Her senses said vampire, except he wasn’t giving off the menace they usually projected with his sandy blond hair and kind eyes. The sleeves of his white dress shirt were folded back in a casual manner, while the watch on his wrist was no phony. He struck her as more of the plastic surgeon type than an in-the-trenches physician.

While she sipped her water, he answered her one-word question. “I’m Dr. Randall, but everyone around here pretty much calls me Doc.”

Doc? Vampires are so original.

“This is Ivy.” He gestured to his assistant, who fluttered a wave. “Do you remember how you got here?” He checked a box on his paper like he was following a script.

Had a lot of unconscious women in your facility, have you?

Alex lowered the glass and licked her chapped lips. “Yeah, some asshat shot me.” After, she had a vague memory of Jericho hovering over her. But that couldn’t be right. “Where am I?”

“Claymore.”

Her blood chilled. Claymore, Victor Custodis’ mansion. Home of the vampire clan leader’s guard. Headquarters of the Council’s enforcers and the last place an unregistered faerie belonged.I am so screwed.She may as well have woken up on a firing range with a target stapled to her forehead.

Ivy’s expression tightened with concern, and she took the empty glass from Alex’s shaking hand. “Poor thing. You must be hurting. Zero to ten, how would you rate your pain level?”

Ten. Ten bazillion. Adrenaline prickled her system. She needed to find Liam and get the hell out of there, pronto. “My benefactor, Liam, was shot too. Is he here?” Her injuries would make escape difficult but not impossible. Liam’s were another matter.

“He’s right down the hall,” Ivy offered, her manner subdued.

“How is he?” Alex didn’t like the guarded look on the nurse’s face.

“I treated his wounds,” Doc said, his tone measured, “but the damage was extensive. I’ve done everything I can for him. We just need to give him some time and see how things go.”

Alex wasn’t stupid. She understood exactly what the doctor seemed unwilling to say. Liam’s prognosis was poor. Her chin trembled. No. That wasn’t possible. Liam was the biggest, baddest vampire she’d ever met. The guy was unstoppable.

Her mind raced. While Liam suffered, she was lying here with the freaking fountain of youth in her veins. If there was anyone who could use a dose of faerie blood right now, it was Liam.

She flipped back the blanket with her good arm and leaned forward in the bed. The room twirled in a nauseating waltz.

“Hey, now. Where do you think you’re going?” Doc sidled next to her, resting his hand on the top of her knee.

“I’m Liam’s Chosen. He needs me.” Alex hesitated. This man was both a vampire and a doctor. Odds were good, her secret was out.

She studied Dr. Randall’s face, attempting to gauge how much he already knew. Shadows flickered in his eyes before he looked away. Hiding something?

Her freaky ability could give her both a broad or narrow view of someone’s emotions. The initial jolt of energy was like seeing through a wide-angle lens. All the unique pieces of a person’s psyche would wash over her. Then, if she narrowed her search, she could zoom into one particular feeling. Not that she’d ever been able to control it. She’d spent most of her life doing her best to shut it all down.

She opened herself to the rush of static coming through the connection. The result resembled a tangled ball of yarn. God, she was bad at this.Have to narrow it to a single strand. She focused on the heat of his palm.

Dr. Randall glanced at her leg and whipped his hand away.

She ducked her head, picking absently at the sheets. “You know, don’t you?”

He pursed his lips, saying to his assistant, “Ivy, could you give us a few minutes?”

“No problem,” Ivy said on her way across the room. “See you later, Alex.” The door snicked closed behind her.

Now that they were alone, Doc hummed a patient sigh. “Yes, Alexandra.I know. Though I’m unclear as to the exact nature of your gift.”

And he could keep wondering. Faeries came in all shapes and sizes, at least what was left of them. The Council referred to it as castes. Some could commune with the dead or with animals. Others could control a person’s thoughts, emotions, or dreams. A few, like their deceased queen, had a combination of skills.

After Queen Rayna’s failed attempt at world domination, the underworld ensured it would never happen again. At first, they’d hunted faeries to the point of near extinction. That was until the vampires determined they had a use for a faerie’s high-octane blood. The Council made blood slaves of those they deemed too weak to cause harm while the more powerful faeries were executed. By now, Doc would have checked the registry and found no trace of her.

“Am I under arrest?”