Bound in blood and spirit for all eternity? It couldn’t be, Victorija thought. This was even better than she had imagined. Amelia and Byron were bound in blood, and Victorija now had the biggest bargaining chip she could ever hope to have. The Debrek Principessa.

“And what did you do?” Victorija asked.

“I told her to get out. I wasn’t interested in her explanations after breaking my heart.”

Victorija couldn’t help but laugh imagining Byron’s hurt, but she did wonder why Byron hadn’t just taken Amelia by force.

“What happened next?”

“My uncle Jaunty came back to the shop and told her to go.”

Victorija was curious, so she went further. “Did you really want Byron to go? How do you feel about her really? Tell me the truth.”

Amelia might have been compelled but tears of emotion still spilled from her eyes. “No, I didn’t want her to go. She is the love of my life, and I know I’ll never stop loving her.”

Victorija sat back and contemplated someone feeling like that about her, but quickly dismissed the thought as weakness. Love was weakness. That was what she had beaten into her, and what she would always believe.

“Drasas?” Her Duca turned around in the front seat of the limo, and said, “Yes, Principe?”

“We will move forward with our plans tonight. We have the Debrek Principessa.” Victorija smiled and Drasas grinned right back.

“Excellent. Are we still heading for The Sanctuary?”

Victorija’s ego was stroked at the idea of their paranormal community seeing her with the Debrek Principessa.

“Yes, why not enjoy a drink and a dance before we make our demands to Byron.”

Victorija grasped Amelia’s chin again and said, “You will forget about this conversation and we will go and have a wonderful evening together at the club.”

“I will forget our conversation and have a wonderful evening at the club,” Amelia repeated before shaking her head and coming back from the compulsion.

“You feel better, Mademoiselle Amelia?”

“Much. Thank you.” Amelia gave her a bright smile.

* * *

Amelia was surprised when Victorija’s limo stopped in front of a nondescript Victorian building in London’s Soho district. It didn’t look like any club she had ever heard of.

“Are you ready for some fun, Amelia?” Victorija said.

Amelia had considered cancelling her date, but in the end decided that it was better to go out and stop thinking about Byron. How dared she drop back into her life?

“Shall we?” Victorija was already at her car door and extending a hand to help her out, and they walked down some stairs into the bowels of the building.

Victorija stopped at the old wooden door at the entrance, and knocked. A voice from behind the door said, “Name?”

“Victorija Dred.”

The door opened immediately, and the tall, lanky doorman bowed his head. “Welcome, Principe. Do come in.”