owner's mood swings as he'd indicated. His puzzled gaze followed Connor back to the bar.
At any rate, the diversion gave Izzie the opportunity she needed—the break from Ryker's hypnotic stare. She bounded to her feet and raced for the door.
She didn 't believe he'd follow her. He'd said he wouldn't, and she had no reason to doubt it. Yet, as she reached the cool night air outside The Wall, she didn't know whether to be disappointed or relieved when she realized he'd kept his word.
Tonight was a strange night, complicated by strange feelings she didn 't know how to interpret and thoughts she didn't think she could handle.
This must be how Berlie felt on a daily basis.
Izzie forced a laugh, her face falling into her hand. One little vampire had shaken her up by treating her like a person rather than a snack. He could be very dangerous to her if he wanted to be, and perhaps that was why he had her mesmerized.
Last night he 'd stepped out of the shadows. Tonight he'd shaken her on territory she thought familiar.
" Damn," she muttered.
When the whistle of a projectile tickled her ears, it was too late to react. It was too late to do anything but raise her hands just before something pierced the skin at her throat, and the world around her went dark.
Chapter Four
She was back in the closet.
Izzie had forgotten how true terror felt. After staggering away from Harrison's bleeding body, she'd vowed never to experience anything akin to fear again. When she hungered and had no food, she hadn't worried over the future. She learned to separate herself from forces she couldn't control. Even toward the end of her stint as Harrison's daughter, compartmentalizing her emotions had helped keep her alive.
The closet was something else. The closet was the edge of the world, and there was nowhere to fall.
"She's waking up."
Izzie jerked. Her eyelids felt like deadweights. "Who's there?"
A warm female voice permeated the air. "It's all right, sweetheart. You're safe."
All right. So it wasn 't the closet. The relief that rushed through her would have been embarrassing in another life. The closet was years behind her. It could not catch her now.
" Open your eyes, dearie," a woman said. A different woman, from the sound of things.
Izzie frowned and slowly forced herself to obey, everything around her blurry and disjointed. Her head felt split. Her temples pounded and her skin was soaked in sweat. Flashes of the evening shot across her mind, but what she saw made little to no sense. "What the hell did you guys hit me with?" she asked groggily.
" Sorry about that," said someone else. A third voice. male this time. Deep and confident. The sort of voice that assured the listener they were in good hands. Izzie well knew that sort of voice. Harrison had carried it to the pulpit the few times she'd heard him preach.
It took a moment for shapes to solidify. As the corners of the room smoothened into recognizable patterns, Izzie found herself at the end of a long conference table. Other details followed. She sat in a chair with her hands bound behind her and her legs tied at the ankle. A rush of adrenaline shot through her body, and her gaze darted from one end of the room to the next for signs of familiarity.
She found nothing. The room was like any other. Bland, undecorated walls, no windows. Nothing but the three people at the other end of the table.
People with exceptionally pale skin.
"Oh shit," Izzie murmured. "This is not good."
Her eyes fell to the table. Her blade sat tantalizing inches away.
" Not fucking good," she said again. She glanced up, straining her wrists to little avail. "What the hell is this?"
" My apologies," said the male.
Izzie paused in her struggles long enough to soak in his appearance. Dark hair, dark eyes, a strong square head, and a body built like a New England Patriots quarterback. He could likely snap her in half if he felt so inclined.
Yet, unlike every other vampire she had ever
At any rate, the diversion gave Izzie the opportunity she needed—the break from Ryker's hypnotic stare. She bounded to her feet and raced for the door.
She didn 't believe he'd follow her. He'd said he wouldn't, and she had no reason to doubt it. Yet, as she reached the cool night air outside The Wall, she didn't know whether to be disappointed or relieved when she realized he'd kept his word.
Tonight was a strange night, complicated by strange feelings she didn 't know how to interpret and thoughts she didn't think she could handle.
This must be how Berlie felt on a daily basis.
Izzie forced a laugh, her face falling into her hand. One little vampire had shaken her up by treating her like a person rather than a snack. He could be very dangerous to her if he wanted to be, and perhaps that was why he had her mesmerized.
Last night he 'd stepped out of the shadows. Tonight he'd shaken her on territory she thought familiar.
" Damn," she muttered.
When the whistle of a projectile tickled her ears, it was too late to react. It was too late to do anything but raise her hands just before something pierced the skin at her throat, and the world around her went dark.
Chapter Four
She was back in the closet.
Izzie had forgotten how true terror felt. After staggering away from Harrison's bleeding body, she'd vowed never to experience anything akin to fear again. When she hungered and had no food, she hadn't worried over the future. She learned to separate herself from forces she couldn't control. Even toward the end of her stint as Harrison's daughter, compartmentalizing her emotions had helped keep her alive.
The closet was something else. The closet was the edge of the world, and there was nowhere to fall.
"She's waking up."
Izzie jerked. Her eyelids felt like deadweights. "Who's there?"
A warm female voice permeated the air. "It's all right, sweetheart. You're safe."
All right. So it wasn 't the closet. The relief that rushed through her would have been embarrassing in another life. The closet was years behind her. It could not catch her now.
" Open your eyes, dearie," a woman said. A different woman, from the sound of things.
Izzie frowned and slowly forced herself to obey, everything around her blurry and disjointed. Her head felt split. Her temples pounded and her skin was soaked in sweat. Flashes of the evening shot across her mind, but what she saw made little to no sense. "What the hell did you guys hit me with?" she asked groggily.
" Sorry about that," said someone else. A third voice. male this time. Deep and confident. The sort of voice that assured the listener they were in good hands. Izzie well knew that sort of voice. Harrison had carried it to the pulpit the few times she'd heard him preach.
It took a moment for shapes to solidify. As the corners of the room smoothened into recognizable patterns, Izzie found herself at the end of a long conference table. Other details followed. She sat in a chair with her hands bound behind her and her legs tied at the ankle. A rush of adrenaline shot through her body, and her gaze darted from one end of the room to the next for signs of familiarity.
She found nothing. The room was like any other. Bland, undecorated walls, no windows. Nothing but the three people at the other end of the table.
People with exceptionally pale skin.
"Oh shit," Izzie murmured. "This is not good."
Her eyes fell to the table. Her blade sat tantalizing inches away.
" Not fucking good," she said again. She glanced up, straining her wrists to little avail. "What the hell is this?"
" My apologies," said the male.
Izzie paused in her struggles long enough to soak in his appearance. Dark hair, dark eyes, a strong square head, and a body built like a New England Patriots quarterback. He could likely snap her in half if he felt so inclined.
Yet, unlike every other vampire she had ever
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