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F OUR MINUTES. T HAT WAS HOW LONG K IDAN COULD BEAR THE HALLWAYS and her demons before she needed rescuing. She tried for three miserable days, and all she could manage were those embarrassing few minutes.

“It takes more time for some than others,” Etete would say, bringing water to Kidan’s parched lips. “Be patient.”

Frustration gnawed at her. Susenyos knew what the law was, and he was actively trying to change it. Kidan needed to know it too.

With her bruised mind, sleep was the only thing that brought relief. Escape from June and her warm eyes that turned into flinty stones. Accusing, punishing. Kidan slept deeply, escaping into the dark.

Only this morning, her ears were ice-cold. She drew her blankets up, still in the realm of sleep, but the wind found her ankles next. She tucked her legs in, but just as she settled into warmth again, a bird cawed close by. She groaned. She must have left her window open. She tried to open her eyes, but it was unbearably bright, like she’d been slid under a magnifying glass and fluorescent light. She eased her eyes to the light, propping herself up. Trees swayed to the morning wind, all around, under the blue sky. A dream, she thought. Then her hands rested against something resembling a dragon’s hide. She took note of her position, her body sitting at an odd forward angle, before she slid, slowly at first, then with an abrupt jerk. Her stomach plummeted, and she screamed, before coming to a sudden stop.

Her socked feet plunged into chilled water, and she dug her fingers into the dragon-hide tiles, trying to break her fall. The gutter had stopped her, and the collected rain seeped into her. There was also something slimy, which she refused to think of, brushing against her ankle.

Kidan, along with her blanket, was on the roof.

The roof.

“Help!” she called, but it was too soft. Her heart was beating inside her throat.

How had Susenyos managed to do all this without waking her? She would never sleep again.

She braced herself and called out louder, “Help! Someone, please!”

Kidan dared a glance down and saw her books and clothes scattered all over the front yard. She would be livid if she weren’t so terrified.

Then a miracle happened. A girl wearing a checkered dress and cream-white sweater stumbled onto the path. She had some of Kidan’s things gathered in her hands, and it seemed she had followed the trail here.

Her curly-haired head tilted upward. “I know the stars are lovely at night, but aren’t you cold up there?”

It drew Kidan in slowly, the innocent lilt to the girl’s voice. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to dislodge it from her mind. It was easier in her apartment, to cut off the world and avoid the temptation to rescue pretty, helpless things. Through her window, morning and afternoon, she’d track her neighbors, skin itching, wondering if they’d make it home safe to their families. If they were late even by an hour, Kidan tortured herself imagining a shadowy figure feasting on them, that she’d let it happen again.

In every defenseless human, she saw her . June. Shy smile and honeyed eyes, trusting nature. And the painful urge to protect rose like a violent tide, devoid of reason. Like now.

Kidan searched for a way that wouldn’t lead her to the girl, but she could see none.

“Check the shed for a ladder,” Kidan managed. “Hurry.”

The girl spotted the garden shed. She disappeared and returned with a ladder. It took Kidan a great deal of effort to remove her leg from the gutters and find the top step. Once she had the comfort of the solid steel under her, she breathed and climbed down.

Kidan gathered her things into her bag, eyes on the ground, ears warming.

“I’m Ramyn, by the way. Your tour guide? We were supposed to meet an hour ago.”

Kidan shut her eyes. Of course she’d forgotten. “Right, sorry.”

The girl hesitated. “It’s okay. I’m not really supposed to be here. If you didn’t mention seeing me, that would be great. My family lives close by. I just come here to watch the… house sometimes.”

That gave Kidan pause. She faced her fully, taking in her large eyes and light brown skin, the glittering septum piercing shaped like a flower. How odd. Watching houses was for those uninvited, unwanted, and Kidan wanted to know why Ramyn watched. But she forced herself to turn her back, breaking the spell.

“Do you want a raspberry candy?” Ramyn’s lips were already slightly pink from the sweet.

“No, thanks, Ramyn. Can we do this tomorrow?”

Ramyn was not really listening. In fact, she seemed in a world of her own, walking toward the front door.

“Why are you sleeping on the roof?”

“I wasn’t sleeping there by choice.” Kidan gritted her teeth. “My house dranaic did this.”

Ramyn’s eyes widened. “Is… is he here?”

“Who? Susenyos?”

“Yes.” Ramyn swallowed, and Kidan tensed.

“Do you know him?”

“Only by name.” Ramyn chuckled, but it was an odd sound. Her thick, expressive brows shot upward. “But if you’re Kidan Adane…, where have you been this whole time?”

“I grew up… somewhere else, in another town.”

“And your house dranaic doesn’t want you?” Ramyn’s voice strained. “Why?”

“Who cares? They’re all vile.”

She gaped. “How can you speak about them like that? Aren’t you trying to be his companion?”

Kidan was having a hard time answering her questions. She was studying the girl’s pinched expression. Ramyn rambled on, now a nervous ball of energy.

“It’s silly, isn’t it? All these years, waiting until we’re older to meet them at the Introductory Dinner, and when we finally do, it’s… not what we expect. What I’m trying to say is, it’s important to make a good impression, you know? You’ll be working with them, well, for a long time if you’re lucky.”

Kidan saw her opportunity. Ramyn was distracted, gnawing on her bottom lip.

“Thank you for helping. I need to go.”

Kidan hurried into the house and closed the door. She parted the curtains carefully to watch the girl. Ramyn frowned, then walked off by herself, her nose ring twinkling in the pocket of sun that seemed to appear over her head.

Susenyos strolled by then, shirt opened at the collar, same book in hand as the day they met. Ebid Fiker —that was the book’s title. It was Amharic, but she still made note of it.

“Ah, there you are. I thought I heard rats on the roof. Someone should really clean out those gutters.”

“I could have died,” she said, seething.

“A touch dramatic. You would have fractured a bone at best. But death by falling is such an uninspired end for you.”

His eyes darkened at those words, sliding to her exposed throat. Kidan’s nightshirt was loose, its neck cut wide. Disgust pulsed through Kidan.

“Stay away from Etete,” he warned, making her eyes crease.

“Why? Afraid I’ll discover the law?”

“Great and worthy heirs and heiresses are able to read a written law the first moment they enter the house. Reading a law is the easiest part of this process.” His cruel grin stretched. “Yet here you are, unable to. Why should I be afraid?”

Kidan’s eyes fell a little before her jaw hardened. “I must be getting close, though. Why else stoop to a childish prank?”

He raised an eyebrow, his expression brightening. “You’re judging my attacks now? Perhaps I should get more inventive.”

She lifted her gathered things higher to cover her neck and tracked wet marks to the stairs, her socks squelching.

After she touched the first step, she paused, voice colder than ice. “You will bring down my things by the time I leave the shower, or you’ll be the one sleeping outside.”

“Is that a command?” Susenyos spoke very carefully, and it occurred to her that he was managing himself as well.

She faced him. “Yes. I like the laws of this place. And the law says a dranaic that physically hurts a human will suffer great consequences—”

“Wait, I did not touch you—”

Kidan slammed her head into the stairway wall. Sparks danced in her vision, but she fought through it, wanting to capture his shock in every frame of her mind—and God, was it delicious.

She would have a bruise clear as day tomorrow, but finally the vampire understood who he was dealing with. Kidan walked away, blood trickling down her forehead but smiling nonetheless. When she reached the top of the stairs, she snuck one more triumphant glance, but the sight chilled her to the bone.

Susenyos Sagad crouched low, touching the few drops of her blood and bringing them close to his lips. Their eyes locked, hers wide with horror, his eclipsed by hunger.

“You bleed red, little bird. I’d think it was black with that hatred of yours.”

Kidan rushed to her room, locked the door, and breathed against it. She traced along her forehead and winced. The cut was deeper than she had intended, the blood running down her fingers.

Slow footsteps echoed closer, making her body seize. He didn’t open her door, but his shadow flickered under the slit. Her heart pumped painfully.

He shuffled, and a solid black line stretched on her floor. Was he… sitting out there? A cap twisted, and the sound of drinking traveled.

His voice was rough and angry. “You’re making the whole house reek. You need to stop bleeding.”

She gritted her teeth. “Sure, I’ll get right on that.”

This time, the voice was quieter, almost a breath. “Hurry.”