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"Layla is family. But she…disappointed me. And there are no accidents, Teagan; you know that, right?"

"I'm not really the religious type."

"It's got nothing to do with religion. There are no accidents, Teagan—that's what you're missing. This might not be something you're used to, but…you're not in control here."

Yeah, I'm starting to figure that out.

"Well, I don't like that."

The room begins to lean to the side, and I feel myself going down with it. I reach out and grab his arm to stabilize myself.

"Um…sorry," I say before slowly letting it drop.

"Whatisyour drug of choice, Teagan?" he asks.

"Freedom," I say, embarrassed after the word leaves my lips. I'm not even sure where it came from.

He opens his mouth to say something but before he can, I'm catapulted forward and onto the hard marble floor. I look over my shoulder at the man I saw earlier—the one with his teeth filed into fangs.

"Whoops, my bad," he says, laughing. He extends a hand to help me up, and I almost take it before Declan's hand closes around the man's throat.

"Get the fuck out of my house before I slice you open and strangle you with your own intestines."

He releases the man, who stumbles backward, choking, before turning and heading for the door.

"Are you okay?" Declan asks.

He reaches for me, but I quickly scramble to my feet on my own. He folds his arms across his chest, his eyes darkened with rage, and when he speaks again, his tone changes.

"I don't like sloppy people in my house," he says. "You should get your shit together, too."

Then, he turns and stalks off toward the staircase.

That was fucking weird.

I begin to move through the room, scanning it for a familiar face. I pass Layla in the high-backed chair, then cross the entryway of a parlor of some sort, hearing a familiar laugh.

"Riv," I say, leaning against the doorframe. "You left me."

"Aw, I'm sorry!" she says. "I didn't mean to. Come here." She pats the place next to her on the sofa, then gestures toward Hazel. "Just…don't talk to or touch him."

Oh…Luca. Perfect. I didn't realize that's whose lap Hazel was sitting in.

I cross the room to the sofa, but when I go to sit, I miss and end up on the floor in the space between the couch and the coffee table.

"Jesus," River says. "Are you okay?"

"I don't think so," I tell her. "I think maybe someone gave me drugs because I can't stop talking."

"What?" she says as they laugh.

"I've never done drugs before."

"What do you mean you've never done drugs? No drugs ever?" Hazel asks.

I shake my head. "I've smoked weed a few times."

"How is that possible?" she asks.