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Her mouth sets into a hard line and she shakes her head. “This is not how you ease into it, Callahan.”

I shrug. “Seems about right with me. Out of the fire, into the pan.”

But however glib I sound, it disappears when a black Super Deluxe convertible pulls in front of us, the top up. The engine remains running, but no one gets out.

“Come on, that’s our ride,” Lena says, looking back and forth down the street before she opens the back door. She shuffles inside and slides along and I follow, making sure that we’re not being watched.

I close the door, the smell of sage filling my nose. A pair of golden eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror. The man is as tall as a tree, with a mop of slightly curly black hair.

“Adonis, this Victor Callahan,” Lena says.

Adonis gives me a curt nod and then his eyes widen when he looks at Lena. “What happened to you?”

She frowns then looks down at her dress, the top part of it in tatters where the acid had burned away the fabric. “It’s a long story.”

“We have a long drive,” he says as he pulls away from the curve.

“Just make sure we’re not being followed,” she tells him.

“And if we are followed?” I ask her. “A high-speed chase will only draw more attention to ourselves.”

“Relax,” Adonis says, his expression serious though his eyes dance in the mirror. “There will be none of that.”

“He can compel people,” Lena says, leaning in. “More than most vampires can.”

“Compel? Like hypnotize?”

She nods. “Something like that. But more powerful. More…” she searches for the right word, “absolute.”

I try to wrap my head around this, another power I apparently possess but don’t understand. “And that works on anyone?”

“Most humans,” Adonis says, his accent a curious blend of Mediterranean influences. “Though some are naturally resistant. You were, I’m told.”

I glance at Lena, who avoids my eyes. She’d been trying to influence me from the beginning, I realize. At Musso & Franks. In her dressing room. Keeping me from asking too many questions.

“Didn’t work very well,” I mutter.

“No,” she admits quietly, giving me a wan smile. “You weren’t easy to control.”

“Is that why you were interested in me? Because I resisted? You like it when men play hard to get?”

Her head snaps toward me, eyes flashing with genuine hurt. “You think that’s why I?—”

“We have company,” Adonis interrupts, his gaze fixed on the rearview mirror.

I turn to see a black sedan approximately two car lengths behind us, keeping pace.

“Cohen’s men?” I ask, reaching for my gun, surprised at how prepared I am to loose it again.

“Most likely,” Lena says, her body tensing. “Adonis?—”

“I see them,” he says calmly. He pulls over to the curb with a smooth, unhurried motion.

“What are you doing?” I hiss.

He ignores me, rolling down his window as the sedan pulls up alongside us. I catch a glimpse of the man behind the wheel, his expression murderous. I recognize him as the man who ratted us out to Marco at Musso & Franks.

“Stay in the vehicle,” Adonis says to the man, his voice taking on a strange, resonant quality that seems to reverberate in my skull.