"Well, I'm already getting tired of you," I retorted. But it wasn't true. When Cyrus had been my sire, I'd been drawn to the danger in him. In him I'd seen reflected all my basest desires. He'd offered me a life of indulgence and hedonism, and I'd been able to turn away in disgust. But the Soul Eater… Everything about Jacob Seymour seemed right. As if he could do no wrong simply because he believed nothing was wrong. It made him powerful, and power remained my weakness.

I begged myself to remember what had happened before, how unhappy I knew I would have been if I'd stayed unquestioningly at Cyrus's side. The Soul Eater didn't need me. I'd wanted that so much, someone to need me. Now, it seemed the furthest thing from my mind. I wanted to need someone else, and the best possible person to need would be one who could provide.

I was falling under his hypnotic spell again.

"Think of it, my dear. I have but a few full-time companions, none that I share my interests with." He gave me a pointed glance, leaving me no illusions as to what those interests were. "And you'd benefit from our alliance in other ways."

"What? When you get tired of me my soul gets a gala installation in your lower intestine?" I shook my head. "No way."

"Oh, I wouldn't have to consume you, Carrie." He waved his hand as if shooing away my foolishness. "Use your head. My fledgling knows what I'm up to, and he's likely told you as well. Why would I need or want your pathetic little soul? I didn't sire you. I have no use for you."

"A minute ago you were practically down on one knee, and now I'm pathetic? You sure know how to win a girl's heart." I stood as if to leave. "So, if that's all—"

He threw out his hand and an invisible force knocked me back to the sofa. "Impressive, yes? The power… it's all you've ever dreamed of, and more."

I glared at him. "And you'll use it against me every day of my life, making me your mindless puppet. I've already been through that with your son. What is the price you ask, oh great one, for this dubious honor?"

With an evil smile, he came toward me. I couldn't move as he leaned down, his teeth bared. He had fangs, even though he wasn't in feeding mode. At least I hoped he wasn't. His nose almost touched mine, and his breath was cold against my face as he spoke. "This is why my son couldn't tame you. I will not have the same problem." He slapped me hard across the face. It caught me off guard and I tasted blood.

"The price for letting you live," he hissed, gripping my hair to punctuate his last word, "is that you will bring my fledgling to me!"