Page 2

Chapter Two

I jerk awake, which is a stupid way to describe how I wake up because it implies I can actually move.

I can’t.

Cold metal clamps bite into my wrists and ankles.

I’m chained to a bed like a horror movie cliché about to be exorcized of demons, which would be funny if it wasn’t so damn tragic.

The kind of demon I carry now can’t be expelled.

“You’re awake,” Anthony says from somewhere to my right.

I turn my head.

My brother stands in the corner of the room, far from the bed.

His hands are raised with a faint shimmer of magic dancing between his fingers.

He’s defensive.

Ready to strike.

Anthony is afraid of me.

I can’t say I blame him.

I’ve calmed a little, but there is that nagging feeling of rage still lingering inside me.

“Where’s Costin?” My voice sounds raw.

The taste of his blood is still metallic and sweet in my mouth.

I run my tongue over my teeth, relieved to find them normal again.

But how long will that last?

“Recovering,” Anthony says, not moving any closer.

“You did quite a number on him.”

Shame burns through me.

I wanted to tear him apart without thinking of the consequences.

“Calm yourself,” Anthony states, his tone strained.

The magic around his fingers brightens.

“I can see you spiraling. Your eyes are changing.”

I force myself to take deep breaths in through the nose, out through the mouth.

The meditation technique helps a little.

“There you go,” Anthony encourages.

“Stay with me, Tam.”

“Astrid?” I ask.

As if to answer, the door opens, and Lady Astrid sweeps in.

She appears composed as ever in a sleek black pantsuit.

Nothing in her expression betrays that she witnessed me transform into a beast.

“What’s happening to me?” I ask.

She cautiously approaches the bed, though her face remains composed.

I remember being irrationally angry when I attacked her, like beyond what I normally feel at my lowest emotional points.

“We’re not entirely sure,” she answers.

There is some comfort in her familiar calm.

I used to think her distant and cold but have come to learn she’s pragmatic out of necessity.

Without her the entire Devine empire would have crumbled decades ago.

“The combination of werewolf venom and vampire blood is unpredictable.”

“Unpredictable?” I laugh, and it sounds more like a growl.

“Fucking hell! Why are you fucking sugarcoating things? It must be fucking bad.”

“Yes, I’m sugarcoating it to keep you calm,” she answers.

“And there is no need to cuss. You’re still a Devine. I expect you to hold yourself to that standard.”

“Sorry if my vocabulary doesn’t meet your standards while I’m chained to the fucking bed! ” I jerk violently against the restraints, hearing the metal creak.

Anthony’s hands glow brighter with protective magic.

Astrid doesn’t flinch, but she takes a step back.

“The restraints are necessary.” She studies me.

“Until you can control yourself.”

“Control myself?” I want to fight.

If they won’t let me throw punches then at least I can yell.

“Look at me! I’m a science experiment gone wrong.”

Something shifts inside me, a strange resonance that directs my attention to the door.

I feel Costin before he enters.

He moves with a slight stiffness.

His neck scabbed where I tore into him as if he’s struggling to heal.

That isn’t right.

He’s a master vampire and should recover faster than this.

I must have really done a number on him.

Gods, what if I had killed him?

His eyes meet mine, and something electric passes between us.

It’s a pull so magnetic I feel a physical reaction.

“What is that?” I whisper, my anger momentarily receding as this new sensation washes over me.

“The sire bond,” Costin approaches quietly.

“It’s part of the transition. It should have happened before now, but…”

Of course there’s a bond.

Nothing about me gets to be mine anymore.

“Sire bond?” The words seem strange to say.

“Like what you have with Elizabeth?”

His face tightens at the mention of his sister.

She’s the vampire who turned him centuries ago as an act of revenge.

That bond has kept him tethered to her for hundreds of years, fueled by his guilt over choices he made as a human in the medieval period.

“Similar, but not the same,” he says, approaching the bed like I’m a wild animal he’s trying to tame.

To a degree that control is working.

“Every bond is different.”

“So I’m cosmically linked to you? Forced to feel this...” The chains rattle as I strain against them.

This time I’m not trying to escape but needing some physical outlet for the storm inside me.

“This pull to obey you?”

“It doesn’t have to be like that with us.” Costin reaches for my hand.

His fingers brush mine, and the contact sends a jolt through my system.

It’s comfort and rage and need and resentment all at once.

I try to jerk away from him, but my movement is limited.

I don’t want him looking at me.

I feel my body is transformed and can only imagine what I look like.

My face doesn’t feel right, and I saw the furry patches on my arms.

“You promised.”

I’m a monster.

Pain flashes across his face.

“You were dying, Tamara. Thane’s bite was killing you.”

“So you made this choice for me?” My voice breaks.

“To make me this… this…?”

“I made the only choice I could.” His voice is low and urgent.

“Life or death. I chose your life.”

“That wasn’t your choice to make. I told you I didn’t want this.” The rage bubbles up again.

The magma of it is right beneath the surface ready to erupt through any fissure in my emotions.

My vision sharpens, and I feel my canines lengthening against my elongating mouth.

“Costin,” Anthony warns.

“Step back.”

Costin doesn’t move.

His beautiful, unreadable eyes hold mine.

“I can’t let you go.”

The sire bond pulses between us, a living thing with its own demands.

Part of me wants to surrender to it, to let it soothe the chaos in my blood.

Another part, the part that’s always valued my independence and humanity, recoils.

“I hate this,” I whisper, tears welling.

“I hate feeling like I’m not my own anymore.”

Astrid clears her throat.

“Tamara.”

I turn my attention to her.

“We need to discuss practical matters,” she says, ever the pragmatist.

“Although we have tried to keep this quiet, there are rumors circulating in the supernatural community, and the elders will need to be informed. Mortimer and your father are already asking questions.”

Great.

Just what I need.

Uncle Mortimer, the family doomsayer, who spent years warning me that mortality was a curse and who tried multiple times to marry a powerful supernatural to ensure the survival of the Devine bloodline.

I can just hear his condescending voice bemoaning this new embarrassment I have brought onto the family name.

“Let them ask,” Costin says sharply.

“Tamara’s condition isn’t up for debate by the council.”

“Tamara’s condition,” I repeat, letting out a bitter laugh.

“Is that what we’re calling this? Not abomination? Not freak of nature?”

“You’re not an abomination,” Anthony puts forth, finally stepping closer.

“You’re my sister.”

The simple declaration nearly breaks me.

A sob builds, but it comes out as a strangled growl.

My body tenses against my will, and that awful shifting sensation comes over me again, my bones wanting to crack and reshape.

“Something’s happening,” I groan.

“I can’t… I can’t stop it.”

“Her eyes,” Anthony says urgently.

“They’re changing again.”

The room spins as pain lances through me.

I arch off the bed, straining against the chains until the metal cuts into my skin.

Blood wells from my wrists, the scent intoxicating even though it’s my own.

“Hold her down!” Astrid commands.

“We can’t have her breaking free again and attacking the staff.”

Hands press against my shoulders and legs.

The bond I have with Costin intensifies as his touch lands on my chest, right above my heart.

“They’re probably how the council found out about this,” Anthony adds.

“I’m sure one of them talked about her condition.”

“I’ll handle my staff,” Costin answers.

“The council won’t order her destroyed, will they?” Anthony asks.

The fact no one answers him worries me.

“Tamara, listen to me,” he says, his voice compelling.

“Focus on my voice. You can control this.”

But I can’t.

The beast inside me surges up, drowning out reason and humanity.

Costin’s hand slips onto my cheek and I snap at him, fangs fully extended now.

He jerks back just in time.

“Astrid,” he says.

I hear the fear in his voice.

Real fear.

“This isn’t working. We need to sedate her again.”

“No!” I try to say, but it comes out as another inhuman sound.

Astrid steps forward with a syringe filled with red liquid.

“I’m sorry, Tamara,” she whispers.

Genuine emotion cracks through her icy facade.

“Until we understand what you are, this is the only way.”

That shot is why my thoughts keep cycling and I can’t concentrate.

“She’s dying, isn’t she?” Anthony sounds far away.

“No one has ever survived the mixing of werewolf and vampire bloods.”

The needle plunges into my arm.

I feel the cold spread through me, a momentary relief from the burning.

As consciousness starts to fade, I lock eyes with Costin one last time.

The sire bond swirls between us, a connection I can’t escape.

I sink into a magic-induced haze, completely paralyzed.

I hear a familiar voice whispering along the corners of my mind.

“Poor little Tam-tam... always someone’s puppet.”

Whatever was in the shot causes me to shiver.

“And you thought I was a monster. Look what they’ve made you into.”

Conrad?

I try to answer but can’t.

This isn’t happening.

Leviathan has him trapped.

Conrad can’t be here.

My vision is blurry as I look for him in the room.

My head won’t turn.

“Did you really think a necromancer could keep me locked away forever? I’m coming for you, sister dear.”

His mocking laughter echoes through my fading consciousness.

I want to warn the others, but no sound comes out.

I’m trapped in my own mind with my dead brother’s ghost.

I pray it’s just the drugs.

Maybe I’m going insane from the transformation.

Maybe the wolf and vampire parts of me are creating hallucinations.

Conrad can’t be back.

He can’t be.

Can he?

Costin touches my cheek, stroking it as he leans over me to kiss my forehead.

“I’m sorry,” Costin whispers.

I want to tell him that sorry isn’t enough.

I want to rage at him for taking my choice away.

I want to beg him to never leave me alone with the monsters inside.

Darkness reclaims me before I can force the words, and as it swallows me completely Conrad’s whispers follow me into oblivion.

“Poor little Tam-tam…”