Taran gripped my arm. “Girl, I don’t know. He sure as hell looks dead to me.”

I ignored Taran and Misha. God, it creeped me out just looking at him. “Emme,” I urged, “pull him out with your force.”

Emme once told me she could feel everything she moved with her mind, as if it brushed against her hands. The way she swooned at my request told me she had no desire to touch a potentially redeceased body with gaping organs. Still, she gave it the old college try.

I wiped my sweaty palms against my blanket and reviewed the steps for mouth-to-mouth in my head. Sweet Jesus, please let him be okay.

Emme gathered her courage, ambled to the end, took a deep breath, and…nothing. For thirty long seconds, nothing happened. Misha’s head didn’t so much as bob out of the water.

“Damn it, Emme,” Taran urged. “Hurry up before we have a damn vegetable with fangs on our hands!”

Emme whimpered, her face turning purple from the strain. “I’m trying, but something heavy is pulling him down.”

A strange feeling of dread numbed me down to my toes. “Get help,” I said to Shayna.

She sprinted, screaming for Misha’s vampires while my eyes searched the dock for something to haul Misha out. Diving in remained out of the question. My sisters couldn’t swim, and I could manage a pathetic doggy paddle at best.

My rising anxiety threatened to unleash my tigress when I spotted one of those pole thingies used to maneuver boats into the dock. I used the metal hook at the end and tangled it around Misha’s hair with as much finesse as a frat boy on ice skates after a wild Saturday night. “Go, Emme. Go!”

With a collective grunt, Emme and I yanked with everything we had…only to land on our butts, sweating, panting, and Misha-less.

My eyes crossed as I stared at the huge knot of Misha’s hair at the end of my stick.

Shit.

I scrambled to the edge, completely out of ideas. A single bubble formed from Misha’s mouth. And that’s when I panicked. I flipped the pole and poked him hard in the head, between his shoulder blades, on his stomach, anywhere I could reach, desperate to move him.

“Why are you poking the master?” one of Misha’s bodyguards asked. The lot of them scowled like I’d rammed the damn stick up his nose.

I pointed wildly into the water. “He’s stuck. We need to get him out!”

Misha’s other guard, Tim, narrowed his eyes like he wanted nothing more than to bowl with my decapitated head. “Haven’t any of you learned to harness the power of the lake?” Our blank expressions answered for us. He rolled his eyes. “Just leave the master to his business and try not to get in the way.” He left and followed the others back to the house, not bothering to glance back.

I wanted to pounce on him and slap him upside the head—for not helping Misha and for being a monstrous prick. But then the water around Misha stirred and another bubble appeared, this time by his foot. A third bubble formed, followed by another, and another. To my horrendous shock, the water beneath Misha’s feet rapidly simmered until a full boil concealed his entire body.

What the hell?

“Son of a bitch!” Taran screamed. “We’re outta here.”

Soft thuds fell upon the grass as my sisters hauled ass across the lawn. Their Scooby-Doo-ish steps dwindled to a halt when Shayna hollered, “Celia’s not coming!”

My sisters bounded back in a frenzy and tried to lug me away. But I refused to move, hypnotized by the rippling magic cocooning Misha. The severity of the moment should have made me heed my sisters’ shouts of warning, and yet even my tigress remained glued there with curiosity. Tahoe wouldn’t just cook Misha like a lobster. Some deeply hidden secret was being unlocked within the lake. And this master vampire possessed the key.

I basked in the surging glory of the lake’s magic, ignoring Emme’s plea to run. My sisters’ tugging became more urgent, but what happened next halted their frantic efforts. A beautiful golden glow spawned in the center of the whirlpool of bubbles, igniting fireworks inside the lake. Thousands of light blue sparkles shimmered across the surface before erupting in a spray of light against our skin. I jumped, expecting to be scorched. Except the bizarre magic didn’t harm. Instead it fell upon me like warm water from a soothing shower, refreshing my skin and hair and eliminating my fatigue.

My sisters giggled uncontrollably as if tickled. I didn’t share their reaction. Mostly I just relished the soft caress against my muscles, massaging my remaining weariness away.

A loud creaking snapped me out of my mellow haze, just as gentle fingertips swept along my jawline. I jerked away from the touch in time to see Misha surface, the water slicking his long hair behind his head like a drape.

I glanced around. My sisters appeared relaxed, as if they’d woken from a good, long sleep. Yet their physical appearances couldn’t mask the smell of their apprehension. “What did you do to us, Misha?” I demanded.

Misha swam to the ledge and rested his muscular arms against the dock, beads of water cascading down his masculine face. All he needed was a bottle of Gucci cologne at his side and the photo shoot was good to go.

“Are you angry, my love?” he asked.

“Just tell us what you did, damn it!” Taran yelled.

Misha leaped onto the dock in one smooth motion. And suddenly, Taran didn’t seem so irate anymore. Droplets of water glistened and streaked down his freshly regenerated physique as he stalked toward me, a perfect replica of man and Greek god.

Taran, dear, unapologetic Taran, fixed her eyes on Misha’s backside, mesmerized by the tightening and relaxing of muscle as he walked. I don’t even think girlfriend blinked.

Emme and Shayna stumbled backward, knocked off balance by the might of Misha’s corporeal hotness. Yet if my sisters’ actions made them prudes, they should have hailed me as their queen. At least they kept their eyes open. I buried my face in my hand like a displaced virgin at a nudist colony. Shrinkage, for sure, was not an issue for Misha.

He chuckled. Not that I could blame him. When it came to the male species, there was no cure for my supreme dorkiness. Even sweet little Emme had more experience than I did.

Misha placed his hands on my shoulders and spoke softly—mostly, I suspected, to hold in his amusement. “You were attacked without cause. My desire was merely to invigorate your spirits. Please forgive me, ladies, if I offended.”

“Oh, no. No. Not at all,” my smooth-as-sandpaper sisters insisted all at once.

The mounting number of na**d studs I’d seen tonight had reached exorbitant heights…not that I was complaining or anything, but my lack of sexual encounters hindered my ability to respond with confidence. I’d been dropped into unfamiliar territory, without food or a compass, and with a bare-ass lothario for a tour guide. Hell, most women would have flipped.

My tigress flicked her tail with excitement, wondering what was next. Between the bare bodies and the brawls, this was her idea of a fun night. Me, I’d rather have spent the evening consuming large quantities of buffalo wings.

Despite my beast’s growing anticipation, she allowed me to draw from her courage. I dropped my hand and shrugged Misha off, focusing on his face like life, death, and a shipload of preschoolers depended on it. “Misha, I—”

“Oh, my goodness,” Emme whispered. “Look at the house.”

What I saw made me step back. Tahoe’s light blue sparks slowly dissipated over where Misha’s house had suffered the most damage. The terrace stood tall, grand, and whole above the fully restored beam. The loud creaking sound I’d heard must have been the wooden planks repositioning. I blinked. Even the cracked floor-to-ceiling windows had been repaired.

A vampire appeared in front of the dining window with a bucket, a towel, and a bottle of Windex. She plucked something that resembled an ear from the glass, pausing to squint at it before tossing it into her pail. In the library, two vampires pointed to the bloodstains on the cappuccino-colored walls. They seemed to be arguing about what kind of blood it was. The taller of the two sampled it with his tongue. Werecat, he mouthed. The other went for a taste until she noticed Misha watching. They noticeably paled before grabbing their mops and resuming their cleaning.

I faced Misha. “You combined Tahoe’s magic with your own.”

He nodded. “The energy I gathered will last me a few days at best, but it comes with a price. When Tahoe demands its return, I will be left weakened and possibly comatose for a period of time.”

“Is that wise, dude?” Shayna asked. “I mean, what if another master challenges you while you’re vulnerable?”

Misha glanced in Shayna’s direction. “Considering my fate will be decided at the rise of the next moon, young miss, it’s unlikely an issue I will have to deal with.”

Taran scoffed. “Then why not conserve your energy instead of wasting it on home improvements?”

Misha regarded her slowly. “I own many houses throughout the world, dear Taran. Yet this is my home.” He looked back at me. “Should I survive, I would like something beautiful to return to.”

My eyes widened; I hoped he didn’t mean me. “Um. We need to go,” I said quickly. “I’ll call you in a few hours.”

Misha kissed the back of my hand before backing away and gracefully slipping into the water. My sisters exchanged glances, but failed to comment. They hustled up the small incline toward the front of the house, hurrying to get the hell out of vamp turf.

“Come on, Ceel,” Taran insisted.

I didn’t follow right away, choosing to trek to the edge of the pier where Misha effortlessly treaded water. He smiled. I didn’t return his grin.

I straightened my shoulders. “Just so you know, I don’t belong to you.”

Misha’s gray eyes reflected silver in the moonlit water. “I never claimed you to be mine, my darling,” he answered patiently.

The nerve I’d built up to confront him disappeared, its empty space replaced by a sudden wave of foolishness. Me thinks I presume too much. I cleared my throat. “Good. So long as we’re clear.”