Daisy sighed. “You might not believe me but I get feelings about things, and I get a bad feeling about Victorija.”

Amelia narrowed her eyes. “She saved my life, Daisy. Why would she harm me?”

Daisy shrugged. “I can’t explain…Just be careful.”

The niggle that told her not to go out with Victorija, the part of her that felt guilty, like she was betraying Byron, got louder. She shook it away and said, “I need to do this, Daisy.”

* * *

“Principe, what should we do?”

Bhaltair’s and Wilder’s concerned faces gazed at Byron from her office monitors. Byron could feel her rage, and her desperate craving for her Principessa’s blood, clouding her judgement. She was breathing hard and was quite sure if she looked in the mirror her eyes would be blood red.

Bhal had called to alert them that Victorija had made contact with Amelia, while the whole household was in the middle of decamping to London. Clothes, supplies, and staff were being packed and taken to the Debrek plane. They would be leaving within a few hours.

Byron felt so out of control. If Victorija hurt Amelia or touched her in any way, she knew the monster within her would take control. Victorija was right—they were the same fundamentally. Perhaps if she had been brought up by Gilbert Dred, she would be exactly like her cousin. The same vicious monster who valued humans as simply food and prey.

“Duca?”

“Yes, Principe?”

Byron looked at her shaking hands and closed her eyes to take a moment to calm. When she opened them, Alexis had a glass of blood ready for her.

“Drink this, Principe, until you can feed on an attendant.”

“Thank you.”

“Duca, my instincts are to hold back until we get to London and talk to Amelia. Victorija seems to have her own agenda, and is not going for a full-out attack. Do you agree?”

“Yes, she could have compelled Amelia and either taken her or killed her, but she didn’t. She must have a plan to use her,” Alexis said.

Byron nodded. “Bhal, hold your distance, so we don’t force Victorija to do anything stupid.”

Wilder said with frustration, “Principe, we can’t. The Principessa is alone with a vicious, bloodthirsty vampire.”

Bhal gave her warrior a hard stare. “Hold your tongue, Wilder. I apologize, Principe.”

Byron almost growled and slapped her hand down on the desk. “Do not presume to say anything about Amelia, my Principessa. I say what is right for her. I say what is the best way to handle her security. Do you understand, Wilder?”

“Yes, Principe. Forgive me.”

Clearly Amelia’s goodness and charm had had an effect on the young warrior, by the jealous glint Byron saw in her eyes. When she thought of her shining girl bestowing her smiles and innocence on Victorija, who would rip her heart and throat out on a whim, she wanted to rip Victorija apart.