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voice as he speaks quietly near the glass, frosting it over with ice simply from his breath.

His hands lower and his biceps flex against the smooth material of his suit before he flings the window open. The lock snaps at the top and the metal of it clatters to the floor. Then he’s crawling inside. He’s prowling, and I’m backing away from the wild look in his eyes. He’s storming, matching my every step and I’m slipping away from him on careful heels that are just begging to be kicked off and abandoned.

“Rival,” I say formally.

Politely?

How am I supposed to address a high vampire?

Sir? Mister? Dark Lord of the Night?

He closes the gap with one dominating step, and then his hand is threading through my hair with a grip of pain right at the root. He slams me against the wall, releasing a gasp of anger and confusion from within me. Then his mouth is against mine in a claiming kiss that steals my breath away.

As well as any rational senses I might have owned.

My fingers grip his smooth tie as my lips part. I press into him as much as he presses into me, because something inside me is crawling up and grabbing on to the allure that he carries. It’s some kind of energy. It’s vertigo. It’s a vibration that syncs into me with all that he has, and I want that unsteady delicious feeling to live inside my heart for the rest of my fucking life.

“Kyra,” he groans against my mouth.

And just like that, the vibration strikes to an abrupt halt.

My fingers release his fine silk tie, one diligent finger at a time. My palm settles there and I shove him off me as I try to find a breath of fresh air between us. He staggers back, but not because of my force. He’s… dazed it seems.

The man who threatened my life less than seventy-two hours ago now looks torn between caressing my face and breaking it in the palm of his hand if I get too close to him.

Clarity begins to shine through in his steely eyes. He assesses me in a new light, from the top of my high ponytail to the points of my sleek black heels.

“I suppose I passed your test,” I arch a perfectly manicured eyebrow at the infuriating vampire. “Mister Royale?”

He swallows hard at the cutting sound of my tone. Dark Lord of the Night would have had the same effect, I’m sure.

His hands move swiftly as he adjusts the windsor knot of his tie, his stature shifting back into the deadly confident man I first met.

“I suppose that you’ll have to do,” he finally replies dryly.

My lips curl into a sneer.

Asshole.

“Grab your purse. Nothing else,” he instructs.

He doesn’t even look at me as he strides to the door and leaves me behind.

Emotionless. Rival Royale is an emotionless creature. Or, at least he pretends to be.

I ignore his hostility and turn to the small rack of dresses, heels and clutches that Prey set up for me in the corner.

He really is a fantastic assistant. No wonder my sister kept him around for as long as she did. That has to be the reason, because it sure as shit couldn’t have anything to do with his sparkling fucking personality.

I grab the largest handbag, though it’s still no longer than my forearm and no thicker than a Bible, but I’ll have to make the most of it.

I abandon my driver’s license, I don’t even think about my debit or credit cards, and I don’t search for my apartment key.

I don’t need any of those things anymore.

The one thing I’ll need in my future is that kitchen knife.

I pull the blade from beneath my pillow and the moonlight glints off of the edge of it. Sure it’s no dagger, but Gordan Ramsay would be super impressed, I’m sure.

And it’s all I have at the moment, so it’ll have to do.

I slip it into the black clutch. My head lifts high, shoulders back, ready to walk right into their world.

And by the end of it all, I’ll slay that motherfucker who hurt my twin.

The three men walk casually with me down the apartment stairwell. I pass Miss Croot and her wide eyes ping pong between the entourage of the gorgeous men who flock me as well as my new, crisp business woman attire.

“Goodnight, Croot.”

“Ww—g’nighttt…” she stutters while Prey winks at her and strides on by like the delinquent prep boy that he is.

The moment Vuitton swings open the front door, the stinging fall wind bites into my barely clothed body.

“Fuck!” I hiss and pull back from the sidewalk. I scurry back toward the building, but Rival jerks me right back out.

He holds his hand around my shoulder like I’m nothing more than a leaning post for him.

“Prey,” he says with a firm nod my way.

Prey bows his head oddly and before I can utter a single insult, the vampire sweeps me up with one palm beneath my thighs and the other curled intimately around my back.

“This is not Twilight! Put me down, you glitterless Edward Cullen fuck!”

“Glitterless?”

“The glitter was the best damn part. You’re a dim comparison!” My jaw grinds against itself in protest, but my teeth still try to chatter from the cold.

A slow smirk pulls at his lips and it’s almost strange to see. It shines in his eyes with thin little lines meeting at the corners of his cold gaze. It’s genuine amusement from the heartless vampire.

At least I think it is...

It could just as well be allergies.

Constipation?

A seizure?

I may never actually know.

In the next several blurry seconds, the city lights of Chicago streak like a stream of fire overhead. It’s a hellish sight of falling stars through the night sky that is both beautiful and terrifying all at once. Thrashing wind claws at my hair and captures the air in my lungs. It’s such a breath-consuming, dizzying experience that I have to close my eyes and shield my

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