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My own release builds with a speed that’s terrifying, an inevitability that sweeps everything else away. “Victor,” I gasp, his name a plea on my lips as my entire body tightens.

He gives one more brutal thrust, and we both go over the edge.

I come apart around him again, shattering completely, a scream tearing from my throat. He follows with a feral roar, spilling into me, his hips jerking with each pulse of release. I can feel it as he fills me, hot and relentless, seeming to soothe every aching part of me.

We collapse together onto the mangled bed, still trembling from the intensity of it all. His weight pins me down; neither of us moves to untangle limbs or bodies. I can feel the ragged beat of his heart against my back.

For a moment after, he remains perfectly still, face buried in my neck, breath coming in harsh pants against my skin. Then, as suddenly as he appeared, he pulls away, a look of horror dawning on his face as awareness returns to his eyes.

“Lena,” he whispers, staring down at his blood-stained hands, at whatever he did before he got here, then at my naked body beneath him. “Oh god. What have I done?”

Before I can respond, he’s moving again, vampire-fast, gathering his scattered, torn clothing. I sit up, reaching for him. “Callahan, wait?—”

But he’s already at the window.

Then he’s gone, disappearing into the night like a phantom, leaving only the curtains billowing in the cool breeze of his departure.

I sit motionless for several minutes, my body still humming with the aftershocks of pleasure even as my mind races with implications. Callahan is a vampire—or becoming one. But not like any vampire I’ve ever known. He doesn’t understand what he is, doesn’t recognize the signs of his own transformation. It’s splintering too, as if only half of him is going through the Becoming while the other half is staying human.

How is that possible? Every vampire child is raised knowing their nature, prepared for their awakening.

But not if they’re adopted.

My god. Did Callahan’s human parents realize they’d adopted a vampire?

My hands shake as I reach for the telephone on my nightstand, dialing Abe’s number. It rings four times before he answers, alert despite the late hour.

“Yes?”

“Abe,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “It’s me. It’s about Callahan. He was just here.”

A pause. “At your apartment? I thought we agreed you would stay away from him.”

“He came to me.” I draw a steadying breath. “Abe, he’s a vampire. Or in the middle of the Becoming. He-he was covered in blood, moving faster than any human could. But he doesn’tknow what he is. He’s confused, scared. Like he has two personalities, like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. I think…I think he might have killed someone else before he came here.”

The silence on the other end of the line stretches for several heartbeats.

“That’s not possible, Lena,” Abe finally says. “A vampire who doesn’t know his own nature? Who wasn’t raised with the knowledge? How old is this man?”

“Thirty-five,” I tell him. “He just turned thirty-five and he says he’s had the blackouts since then. Thirty-five is when men transition.”

“Yes, but?—”

“I know what I saw.” I close my eyes. “Abe, he’s adopted. He’d told me that much. Doesn’t know anything about his birth parents.”

Another silence, this one heavier.

“There’s more,” I admit, the words difficult to voice. “I think he might have murdered Elizabeth.”

17

CALLAHAN

Iwake with a gasp, sheets tangled around my legs, sweat cooling on my skin. The dream clings to me like smoke—Lena beneath me, her body arching against mine, her nails scoring down my back as I claimed her with a ferocity that should frighten me, the kind of raw lust that doesn’t take no for an answer.

But it doesn’t scare me.

It excites me.