The woman gathered her clothes and bolted from the room. Victorija lay back on the bed and studied her hand and arm. Her whole body wasn’t working. Something was clearly poisoning her, and she was dead from the waist down.

She didn’t remember her father slipping into blood sickness as quickly as this after he killed her mother. Was she weaker than Gilbert? That’s what he always said. She was a disappointment. Why couldn’t she have been a son?

If her vampires found out how badly affected she was, she could lose control of her clan. Not that she’d been much involved in clan business for the last while. She had delegated control to her Duca, but she had noticed Drasas getting a bit comfortable in her leadership role.

Maybe she should spend the evening downstairs with her vampires. They hadn’t seen her in a long time. Victorija got up, put on her best clothes—with leather gloves to cover her hand, took a big swig of the potion that Anka made her, and forced herself to leave her chambers. This was the last thing she wanted to do. Her hunger was destroying her from the inside.

But she forced herself. When Victorija entered the throne room, her Duca was standing by her throne, muttering to some of her higher-ranking vampires.

“What if she doesn’t recover?”

The conversation ended abruptly when they saw Victorija.

“Principe, you’re joining us this evening?” her Duca asked.

“Looks like it. Not getting too comfortable on my throne, Drasas?”

Drasas had worry etched on her face. “Of course not, Principe. Please sit. We are happy to have you with us tonight.”

I’ll just bet you are. She was growing ever more suspicious over Drasas and Anka’s relationship. Drasas seemed besotted by Anka, but would Drasas really be plotting against her? Victorija had rescued her from the streets and gave her power, power that Drasas loved. Maybe Drasas wanted more.

She would have to try to find a way out of this. This blood bond, this poisoning. There had to be a way, or she would lose everything that she had taken from her father.

Chapter Six

Daisy sat on Amelia’s couch with an ice pack on her neck. Her bite mark had been burning hot since she’d arrived back to the Debreks’ house. Every fibre of her being was telling her to find Victorija. But she couldn’t. How was she going to beat this? To be truthful, she wanted to go to bed and spend some more time with Victorija. Did I just think that? She had to remember that young, sweet Torija was gone. All that was left was a bloodthirsty vampire, although Angele would have her believe the light was still inside her. Maybe at one time, but not any more. Victorija was too dark now.

“Are you okay?” Amelia asked.