Sullen quiet permeated between them on the ride back to Daniella’s penthouse. When the steel skyscrapers of the city center passed by, Aiden forced himself to break the silence. “You always carry three gold coins in your pocket?”

It made little difference that she’d willed them into existence with her magic, and the lie came easy to her lips. “I took them from my dresser before I left.”

“Oh.” He paused. “Is that a ritual from Scotland, then?”

She pinched the bridge of her nose, despising the cat and mouse game they played with one another. She wanted nothing more than to hide away in her room and sort things out for herself, but Aiden’s concern had nestled in her, creating an odd calm. Comfort was something she wasn’t used to receiving—from anyone, let alone a mortal. “Yes and no. I’m also part Egyptian.”

Aiden’s mouth dropped, his expression filled with incredulous wonder before he focused back on the road. “I thought you were Parisian?”

It was easy to detect the subtle threads of suspicion in his tone. “I am. That’s where I lived, most of life. M-my father was Egyptian. That’s all I know about him. He…I never knew him.” It felt as if she sat on a pile of burning nettles. Only Connor Talbot knew this about her, and she was shocked that she’d revealed such personal information to a man she hardly knew; a man who was slowly getting under her preternatural flesh.

“You’re full of surprises, Ms. Rolfe.”

That crooked grin of his tugged at her, and she turned away as heat flooded in her face. “You don’t know the half it,” she murmured under her breath.

“Pardon me?”

“Never mind. I need to make a phone call to the Talbot family and confirm that proper funeral arrangements will be made.”

When Aiden took his eyes off the road to look at her, she hurried on to explain. “I’ll be paying for all the arrangements. Manvera was killed because of me and it’s, it’s the least I can do. Her body will be airlifted to England to be buried at the family crypt.”

To her dismay, Aiden reached over to grasp her hand, but she involuntarily flinched away. Although her body temperature hovered around ninety odd degrees, nowhere near as cold as it was during her blood cycle, she had a thing about people touching her. A flash image of his warm hands teasing her breasts crept into her awareness. This wasn’t the time, the place, or the right man. He carried a badge! And how and why could his mere presence make her feel so unbalanced?

He placed his hand back on the steering wheel with a tight smile. “It’s not your fault, Daniella,” he said at last.

She concentrated her attention outside the window. “Yes, it is, Aiden. I don’t know why or how, but it is. Now this maniac has dragged you into it, too.” She fell silent, trying to piece together the morbid details. All of them raped! Sure, rummaging through a human’s mind uninvited or sucking their blood unaware were violations, but rape? That went beyond the spectrum of violation. Spasms rushed through her body as her rage ignited merely thinking about it.

They didn’t speak again until they returned to her penthouse. When she entered the suite, she strode straight to the bar and lifted out a bottle of absinthe. Aiden was quiet as he watched her pour a shot glass full of the neon green liquid. With her back to him, she stared outside and took a small sip, savoring the bitter linseed and licorice.

“If that’s what I think it is, you’d better be careful.”

His concern forced her to turn toward him. “Alcohol does little to calm my nerves; however, the wormwood in absinthe does. It makes the blood flow…better.” She downed the shot and poured another, trying to work her mind around Manvera’s death. Those were teeth marks on her neck, and these fool mortals think it’s probably an animal. A vamp is hunting my territory and covering his DNA as carefully as I do mine. Why the secrecy? And why can I not sense him? Frustration and anger were a volatile mix, and she had little experience dealing with either of those emotions. She peered at Aiden, who still stood by the elevator. With a minimum shrug, she grabbed the slender neck of the bottle and sat on the sofa, crossing one leg over the over. Aiden watched her every move. His piercing stare created a savage heat that rippled through her system. She poured another shot, downing it like the last, hoping to ease some of the effects he had on her.

“It’s not quite noon, Daniella. Don’t you think you’re starting a mite early?”

His worry didn’t go unnoticed, but right now, all she wanted was a little numbness. Perhaps go back to sleep and reenter that wonderful dream of hers and forget this horrid tragedy had ever occurred. “I need a moment of respite, okay?” she snipped, tilting the lip of the bottle over the shot glass again. When he lowered himself beside her on the couch, his scent scored her to the core. A slow euphoria settled in.

She focused ahead and threw back another shot. Like doses of fresh oxygen to a human, the thujone drug contained in the wormwood was far more powerful. It was like going back to the 17^th century poppy dens of China. She wanted oblivion, if only for a little while. Daniella leaned into the cushions of the couch and floated in a self-contained anesthetized haze.

“Well, it’s gotta be five o’clock somewhere, right? Do you have any beer?” he asked.

With a lethargic roll of her head, she nodded toward the kitchen. She half-sensed Aiden rise. The clicking open of the kitchen door echoed dimly in her ears and she closed her eyes, relishing the moment of solitude.

They didn’t sell this alcohol in stores, and, in fact, she was breaking the law for even possessing it in this country. The specialized liquor came from a family in Switzerland, who guarded the recipe like dragons hoarding gold, and she’d paid nearly that amount to obtain it. Only this absinthe could create a drunken stupor for her.

Two more shots followed, and then the associated numbness settled over her like a warm, heavy blanket. Although the amount of thujone currently in her system was enough to kill a mortal, her body reacted differently. In human terms, she felt like she’d polished off half a bottle of scotch and smoked several large joints. She downed another shot and refilled the glass, spilling some onto the coffee table. By the time Aiden returned to the living room, she knew she’d gone too far.

When he seated himself at the other end of the sofa, her head rolled like rubber toward him. She knew she shouldn’t say anything, but the gnawing pit in her stomach to help him with this case, combined with the amount of absinthe, began loosening her tongue. “Those were teeths…wait.” She started again. “T-e-e-t-h marks on her neck.”

The corner of Aiden’s brow rose slowly as he took a long draught from the bottle of imported beer and swallowed hard. “What makes you say that?” he asked at last.

Hmmm, he doesn’t look surprised. Could he suspect what really killed these people? The thought amused her, and the grin that formed couldn’t be stopped. “The ripping of the skin, the slivers and markings. It’s-s-s teeth. E-long-ga-ted teeths-s.”

The tingling in her legs became more pronounced as the drug took further control over her senses. “He loses himself, you know, in the lusts-s of the act. Tell me, Aiden, have you…have you done…done that? Lo-o-se yourself in lust?” Familiar heat licked across her skin like flames.

A lock of Aiden’s chestnut hair hung over his one eye and she leaned into him to push it back. His sharp intake of breath seemed to suck her in closer. Those ice green eyes of his locked on to her and that unique spell of his ensnared her as it had the first time she’d seen him.

He licked his lips and dashed back a mouthful of beer, his gaze searching her face. “Yes,” he whispered.

The compulsion to confide in him was too strong to fight. “He’s-s-s really trying to, to be neat about it,” she forced past frozen lips. “The par-allel cuts-s-s on the wrists-s-s—feeding, showing me his-s-s, his c-control, his-s-s talent, his f-f-fine tastes-s-s, but…b-b-lood m-m-madnes-s-s.”

“I think that’s enough for you,” she heard Aiden say, barely feeling the glass leave her fingers.

Her eyelids slid closed and there was nothing she could do to stop them. She’d drunk too much. What a fool! “A-a-iden?”

“Yeah?”

A little voice kept telling her to stop talking, but her lips weren’t listening. “He’s-s-s hunting and, and feeding, s-s-showing off to me.” Damn! She’d forgotten to call Connor, but it was too late now. She’d have to sleep off the thujone.

The feel of Aiden’s arms wrapping around her body brought a whispered sigh to her lips. She fit perfectly against his chest as he effortlessly carried her to the bedroom. Laying her head against his shoulder, she savored the clean, virile smell emanating off him. He reminded her of an old memory. Strange, the cliffs of Dunnotar Castle floated through her thoughts and then another, but this one in ruins. Another side effect of the drug. Visions came and went at leisure, but so did the darkness. She was about to tumble headlong into the drug’s absolute control when she managed to force out, “A-Aiden?”

“Just rest, okay, Daniella? It’s been a helluva morning.”

“I-I-I will p-p-protect you from him-m-m.”