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T yrus raked his gaze over Evie’s naked body. “Get dressed.”

“Okay, sure.” She grabbed some clothes before he could change his mind. Kyler was slumped against the wall near the bed. She shot him a worried glance as she pulled on her cargo pants.

“Come.” Tyrus beckoned to her.

She swallowed. “Why?”

Kyler groaned, and the night fae’s gaze moved to him. Evie stepped to the left so that she was between the two of them.

“Kyler?” she asked without taking her eyes off Tyrus. “You okay?”

“Think so.”

She darted a look at her brother. He was sitting up, rubbing his head. He blinked at the blood on his fingers.

“What happened?” he asked.

“You hit your head against the wall.”

He nodded and then winced. “Fuck, that hurts.” He glanced at Tyrus, and his face tightened with hatred. “Asshole,” he growled.

She moved back and set a staying hand on his shoulder. “Hush. It’s okay.”

Kyler didn’t seem to hear. “I’m sorry, Evie. He got into my dreams somehow—a nightmare. When I woke up, I was at the door, letting him inside.” He glared at the night fae. “Why don’t you fight fair, you freaking prick?”

She dug her nails into his shoulder. “Kyler. Shut. Up.”

“I’m not afraid of him,” he returned sullenly, but to her relief, he subsided.

Tyrus ignored their byplay to focus on Evie. “Come, woman.”

“No fucking way.” Kyler wrapped wiry arms around her legs. “She’s not going anywhere with you.”

“No?” The fae’s black eyes flashed red.

Evie gulped. It was like something out of a horror movie. She slid down the wall until she was crouched next to Kyler, an arm flung out to protect him. Her brother muttered something and dropped his head on her shoulder, and she had the sick feeling he was only half aware of what was going on.

She glared up at Tyrus. “What do you want?”

“Ah…now that’s an interesting question.” The red faded.

Tyrus sat on the mattress and stretched out his long legs, one ankle crossed over the other.

The fae lights had clustered around her and Kyler, leaving him in the shadows.

Only his face and hands were visible, a pale glimmer like a new moon in a dark sky.

The tips of his pointed ears emerged from midnight-black hair.

He was sharp-faced, beautiful—and he made her spine prickle like a thousand spiders creeping up her vertebrae.

“I’m here in Baltimore,” he replied, “because I have a dislike of your new friends, especially Jones and his alpha. It wasn’t very smart of you to get between me and my prey.”

She raised her chin. “So sue me.”

He just smiled. “But now that I know about you, Evie, I find I’m interested in you. Very interested. It’s been over a week since I last fed—and the fae in you makes your energy special.”

The den was still as a morgue now. Where were Jace and the others? If they were all right, surely they’d have burst in by now. Evie’s heart twisted. Jace must be hurt bad, because if he could get to her, he would—that much she knew.

The fae lights moved closer to Evie. They were smaller than she’d ever seen, barely the size of a ping-pong ball, but they brushed over her in a warm caress: Stay strong . It was almost as if they’d spoken.

She wrapped an arm around Kyler and lifted her chin. “What do you mean, my energy is special?”

“Taking energy from a human like your brother is like drinking beer or a cheap wine. It serves if there’s nothing better. But your energy—it is like a fine champagne. I may even invite some of my friends to taste you.”

Her stomach lurched. “No,” she said fiercely. “I won’t let you. I’ll stop you like I did before.”

“Can you?” Tyrus raised a brow. “So that was you in the kitchen? I thought it was Jones.”

“It was me.” At least part of the time .

“Yes?” He rose to his feet. “Well, do your best, ma chère . I don’t think you’ll win. But it makes the game more amusing.”

The bedroom door opened. Evie’s heart surged—and then sank. It was a big, dark-skinned man she’d never seen before.

He eyed her coolly. “This is Jace’s human?”

“Yes.” Tyrus beckoned to Evie, and she found herself releasing Kyler and rising without intending to.

Panic skittered over her nerves. He was controlling her somehow, forcing her to walk the few feet between them.

A finger traced the curve of her jaw, lingered in the hollow of her neck. “I can set you free, but I need your promise that you’ll come quietly.”

Her chest jolted in and out. She couldn’t get enough oxygen in her lungs. Inside, she was screaming, but all she could do was stare at him mutely.

“Evie? Nod your head if you agree.”

She jerked her chin in assent, and he released her. Her breath shuddered in.

Tyrus stared down at her from his great height. “Do I have your promise?”

“Not Kyler,” she returned tightly. “Only me.”

“ No .” Her brother’s harsh voice tore through the dark room. He had both hands on the wall, trying to bring himself to his feet.

She took a step toward him. “No, Kyler! Stay there— please .”

He shook his head and grimly continued, literally crawling up the wall.

“You’re bargaining with me, human?” Tyrus narrowed his eyes at her.

She set her shoulders. “Yes. I want your promise—just me, not my brother.”

He shrugged. “Done. It’s you I want, not him. Now do I have your promise?”

“Yes.”

“Say the words.”

“I promise to go with you if you leave Kyler here.”

“Agreed.” Tyrus smiled. A chill, victorious tilt of his lips. “Let’s go then.” He reached for her.

She took an involuntary step back, unable to help herself.

“Evie?” A soft, deadly question. “You’re not breaking your promise, are you?”

She swallowed dryly. Everyone knew you didn’t break a promise to a fae. It was the only way to hold them in check. If she broke her promise, who knew what Tyrus would do to Kyler?

“No,” she said between numb lips.

He waited, hand out, until she forced herself to step forward again. He swung her into his arms. This close, he was unnaturally cold, and he had the sickly-sweet scent of death. She held herself stiff, her entire being revolting at his touch.

Tyrus rubbed his cheek against hers. “You’re strong. I like that. Strong women are so much more fun.”

Her fingers curled into claws, but she thought of Kyler and remained quiet. She could endure this if it saved him.

Tyrus followed the large man into the hall. The first thing Evie saw was Jace sprawled unmoving on the floor, a huge wolf the color of midnight standing over him. She made a small, dismayed sound, and the wolf’s shaggy head swung toward her. Sharp canines glinted in the dim light.

A fae light wafted over Jace and her breath hitched. What she’d thought were shadows on his face and neck was blood. He was covered in it. She twisted in Tyrus’s arms, forgetting everything but the need to save him from the wolf.

The fae’s grip tightened. “Remember your promise,” he said in silky tones.

She stilled, but narrowed her eyes at the wolf. “Get the fuck away from him,” she said, low and mean.

The shifter’s burning gold gaze swung to her.

There was a movement behind them, and she glanced over Tyrus’s shoulder to see Kyler in the bedroom doorway, hands braced against the frame to hold himself up.

Horror swamped her. She was afraid to speak, but silently begged him with her eyes to stay hidden. When she turned back, the big black wolf had a paw on Jace’s chest.

Fury engulfed her. “Damn you!” she spat at Tyrus. “Call the wolf off him. He’s hurt—he can’t defend himself.”

“Quiet.” His dark eyes flickered red again.

Evie froze except for the fine-grained trembling of her body. This was how a cornered rabbit must feel. Afraid and hopeless and seething with hatred.

Tyrus jerked his head at Jace. “Bring him,” he told the wolf.

The shifter’s lip peeled back to reveal sharp white teeth, but Tyrus stared him down. “Bring him. You work for me, remember? And get rid of the boy.”

“No!” Evie burst out. “You promised. You said you wouldn’t hurt him—that was the deal.”

“Actually, I didn’t. All I promised was that I wouldn’t take him—just you.”

Her mouth dropped open. “You… bastard .” She punched him in the throat without thinking of the consequences, and he staggered back and loosened his grip enough that she dropped to the floor. In an instant, she was back on her feet and flying at him, fingers curved into talons.

She was past caring about herself. She just wanted to hurt him.

Her nails slashed a bloody trail down his cheeks, but he was quick as a rattlesnake. The next thing she knew, her back slammed into the wall, his hands pinning her wrists next to her head. But she was beyond reasoning. She twisted in his grip and aimed a knee at his balls which he barely evaded.

“Fuck,” Tyrus said, the earthy curse sounding odd in his cultured voice.

He grabbed her chin and snapped, “Stop it right now,” and tried to do that mind-control thing on her again, but this time it didn’t work, maybe because she was so pissed off she was operating on instinct, not on a conscious level.

“Not until you promise,” she snarled back.

“Fine.” He jerked his head at the fada. “Don’t touch the boy.”

The wolf growled, and Tyrus added, “Let me rephrase that. Touch him, and you’re dead. Is that clear?”

The wolf curled its lip, but the big man said, “We understand.”

Evie halted, chest heaving. “Get inside the bedroom,” she told Kyler.

“No.” Her brother stared at her, white-faced. “I won’t let him take you.”

She met his eyes. “Please, Kyler. There’s no sense us both going.” She mouthed, “Tell Adric.”

His throat worked, and then he nodded and obeyed. She saw the bedroom door shut behind him as Tyrus swept her back into his arms, and then the next second, they were in Jace’s shed.

Her jaw slackened. How had Tyrus made it up to the surface so quickly?

To the east, the sun was rising. The night fae cast an assessing eye at the pink haze spreading across the sky and then continued out of the shed. So it was only full sunlight that affected him.

Tigger was returning from a night of tomcatting around. He rounded his back and hissed at the fae, who kicked out at him. The cat yowled and leapt out of the way.

Tyrus took off running at an inhuman speed. The streets passed in a blur. He didn’t stop until they reached Druid Hill Park, where he set Evie down, took her wrist in a painful grip and dragged her down an asphalt path at a punishing pace despite the fact she was barefoot.

They’d gone about a half mile when he turned onto a dirt path that led into the trees. A few minutes later they reached a small, hidden clearing. Tyrus stopped by a large rock and moved it aside as if it weighed almost nothing.

She glanced at him and gulped. Already, the cuts she’d made on his cheeks were healing over as if they’d been made yesterday, not ten minutes ago.

Tyrus jerked his chin at her. “Get in.”

“Down there?” She glanced over the edge. A rusty metal ladder descended ten feet into a cellar. She felt the color drain from her face at the thought of being trapped in the small, dank space with him.

Her mind screamed no but she reminded herself of her promise. If she broke it, it wouldn’t rebound just on her. Kyler and Jace would be in danger too.

And besides, running wouldn’t do her any good—Tyrus would catch her before she’d gone three steps.

He didn’t wait for her to make up her mind.

He moved with that preternatural speed, grabbing her by her upper arms and dangling her over the ladder.

Her heart leapt into her throat and she instinctively scrabbled for footing.

As soon as her foot touched a rung, he released her, and she slipped, dropping a good yard before she grabbed the top rung and halted her fall.

“Keep going.” Tyrus set his heel on her left hand, his face alight with a vile enjoyment. “Or I’ll break your fingers. It makes no difference to me.”

That was when it hit her—he didn’t care if he hurt her as long as he could still feed on her energy. In fact, he might even prefer it.

Ice skated down her spine. “All right.” She tried to drag her hand out from under his foot, but he ground his heel into the bones before releasing it.

Pain shot through her. She half-climbed, half-fell the rest of the way down the ladder until her feet hit the dirt floor.

Above her, Tyrus slid the rock back over the opening, leaving them in the darkness. He ignored the ladder to drop to the dirt beside her, his duster billowing around him like the wings of a massive black bat.

He turned toward her, his pale face the only thing visible in the pitch-black cellar. “Afraid, ma chère ?”

She nursed her throbbing hand against her stomach and glared at him without speaking.

His thin mouth quirked. “Good. Fear has its own special taste.”