“She’s a night hag; they feed on terror the way that Jean-Claude feeds on lust. She has feasted on the fear of her victims and the entire city’s panic,” Damian said.

   “I knew some master vamps could feed on fear, but let me just say, I’m happy to be on Jean-Claude’s team. I’d rather be with a vampire that feeds on blood and lust than terror, or anger, or violence and death like some of the other bloodlines,” Dev said. He was standing a little to one side, behind Nathaniel. Everyone else who wasn’t either talking to the Irish about helping vampires, killing vampires, or our political future here, or healing themselves, was outside in the corridor waiting to come rushing in if we yelled for reinforcements.

   Nathaniel leaned back and offered a kiss, which Dev happily took, though he was careful not to touch Damian’s hand where it curled around Nathaniel’s shoulder. Honestly, I’d expected Damian to move out of the way; the fact that he didn’t was interesting, but not as interesting as the problem in front of us, which was the Irish vampires.

   “What can we do to help them and stop her?” I said.

   “Let us go somewhere else for this discussion. They seem unconscious, but they’re still her vampires,” Damian said.

   “You think she could use them to eavesdrop,” I said.

   “I do,” he said, and turned for the door behind us, turning us because he still had his hands on our shoulders. We didn’t argue with the movement. I think we were all ready to get out of this room, but as Damian herded us toward the door he stumbled. Dev caught his arm and we turned to help. It was hard to tell in the dim light with someone as pale as Damian, but he looked especially pale. My stomach cramped suddenly so hard it almost doubled me over. Nathaniel’s breath was coming too fast as he said, “What was that?”

   “Shit, he hasn’t fed.”

   “How have you not fed and not tried to tear anyone up?” Dev asked.

   “Centuries of practice,” our vampire said.

   “Could you teach them that kind of control?” Dev asked.

   “In time, some of them, but not everyone wants to control their lust for blood, or is capable of doing so. There was one of her other vampires that specialized in the most violent feedings I’ve ever seen. He literally tore his food apart, limb from limb. He didn’t want to control the violence inside him. He wanted to let it out every night if she would allow it.” He swayed in place. Dev tightened his grip on his arm. I tightened mine on the other. Nathaniel squeezed his hand tighter.

   “We need to get him somewhere and get him some food,” Nathaniel said.

   None of us argued. We just moved toward the door, getting in each other’s way as we tried to open the door and move ourselves through it. Dev finally let go so he could open the door and usher us through, which saved us from having a Three Stooges moment in the doorway. Damian leaned against the wall in the hallway and started to slide to the floor. Nathaniel and I caught him and other hands came to keep him upright, but we needed a room and privacy with our shared vampire—now.

70

   NATHANIEL FELL TO his knees beside Damian and a wave of dizziness took my vision in a stomach-turning swirl. I caught myself on my one good arm and felt other hands on us. I had a moment of not being able to tell if I was watching Domino holding Nathaniel, or if I could feel him cradling me. Was I leaning against the wall with Kaazim holding me in place, or was I kneeling with Dev’s hands on my shoulders? I forced myself back into my body and my mind, but it meant that I had to shield hard from everyone.

   Nathaniel gasped, “Anita, you can’t take that much from us.”

   Damian’s eyes rolled back into his head and he went completely limp. Kaazim said, “My Queen, you must not cut them off, or one could die.”

   I wasted breath cursing, but I lowered my shields. The wave of dizziness and nausea made me collapse, and only Dev’s arm kept me from hitting the floor; unfortunately he was on the side of the injured arm. The pain of it being pressed between his body and mine brought me out of the faint but didn’t do anything for my stomach. I fought to breathe and not throw up as I tried to even out the power between the three of us. Damian had hidden how much energy he’d been using up, but now he couldn’t hide it any longer. He should not have been able to die from not eating. Vampires couldn’t starve to death; they could rot, or go mad from it, but they couldn’t fade like this, like a person who was slipping away for real.

   I was looking up into Dev’s face, and his eyes looked almost entirely pale blue; the brown was lost in them from this angle, or in this light. Pride was standing over his shoulder, looking down at me with a worried expression on his face. I smelled heat, hot, as if temperature could have a scent. Heat and dirt, as if ground could be pounded by the sun until it changed the smell of it, the feel of it beneath our feet, and beneath the delicate paws . . . I smelled spices, exotic, unnameable, or unnameable by me. I saw a fox, a wolf, no, no, a jackal. She was delicate and dainty, a beautiful golden-eyed lover both in this form and the other. I had a glimpse of a dark-skinned woman with pale brown eyes, smiling, welcoming . . . and then she was gone.

   “No,” a voice said. “No, I will not remember things that have been lost for so long. It is torment and you are not queen enough to force that upon me yet. I pray to my old gods that you never grow to such power, or such evil.”

   I realized it was Kaazim, and when I moved my head enough to look he was holding his wrist, putting pressure on it. Damian was sitting against the wall unaided and looking alive again, so to speak. He smiled and licked a minute drop of blood from the edge of his mouth, content as the cat that had eaten the delicious canary.

   “Kaazim, your blood is yummy,” Nathaniel said, and it made me turn my head enough to see him cradled in Domino’s arms more on his side than I was, because he didn’t have an injured arm to work around. Ethan was standing over them both, uncertain who to help, or how. I couldn’t blame him on that one; I wasn’t sure what was happening either.

   “That should not have happened,” Kaazim said, his voice shaking a little around the edges.

   “No,” I managed to say, “it shouldn’t. You’re not one of my animals to call, or Jean-Claude’s. Your memories shouldn’t come across like that.”

   He cradled his arm as if it were more hurt than just a simple wrist feeding. I wondered for a second if Damian had bitten him more than he needed to just to take blood, but discarded the idea. I’d have felt it if Damian were losing that kind of control. No, Kaazim wasn’t cradling a physical wound, or not one that we’d given him. It was almost as if it were a remembered injury to match the memory we’d seen.

   “Only my master should be able to draw such things from me, and she would not need to, for she was there.” His voice was grim, and matched the bleakness of the look in his dark brown eyes.