In an instant, the voices went still, and relief washed over her.

Rosalind. She was Rosalind, the Hunter, in control of her own body once again. Her arms tightened around Caine, and her body trembled, wracked by the remnants of pain. The spirit had gone. She glanced at her hand. Caine had slipped the ring back on her finger.

She wrenched away from him, clamping her hand over her mouth. She didn’t want to puke in front of them.

Never again. She never wanted her mind to splinter like that again. She’d been in hell.

She dug her fingernails into her palms, clamping her eyes shut. She needed to get this insane spirit out of her body. The demonic force would completely shatter her.

Caine’s arm encircled her waist, holding her up. “She isn’t ready for that yet.”

Rosalind straightened. She really hated looking weak, especially in front of the demons. “I’ll never be ready for that. This thing inside me is a monster.”

“What was it that the spirit wanted?” Ambrose’s words slid over her like cold rain.

“I don’t know,” she snapped. She hated him right now for ripping the ring off her with no warning, and she had a strange feeling the mage inside hated him, too.

Her body wouldn’t stop shaking.

This was why people shouldn’t mess around with the dark arts. Her birth parents were obviously raving lunatics.

The vampire inched closer, running his thumb over her cheek, and she shuddered. His beauty was cold and empty.

She couldn’t wait to get out of there. She wanted Josiah and Tammi more than ever.

“Never mind, little sparrow,” Ambrose said. “Delicate little thing. You will stay in Aurora’s room for the night. She can sleep elsewhere. She will be perfectly hospitable. Tomorrow, the three of you will leave.” He shot a glance at Caine. “I trust you’ll take good care of her. Don’t let her out of your sight, or she’ll betray us to the Brotherhood. She still believes in them. Begin teaching her as soon as you can. Once she’s trained, she’ll be quite useful to me.”

Chapter 9

Trained. According to Ambrose, she was a delicate little thing who required training and obedience. Rosalind wasn’t stupid enough to argue with the Vampire Lord in his own kingdom, but there was no way in hell anyone was going to train her.

She followed Aurora down a dimly-lit hall. Stone vaults arched high above like a gray skeleton, intricately carved with moonflowers and stars. Candles flickered in jeweled sconces along the walls, casting dancing shadows over the marble floor. Gods, she really wanted to go back to her little dorm room. This place was creepy as hell, and she needed to run through this whole disaster of a night with Tammi.

Her mind reeled. Tonight, her world had been blown apart.

Whatever it took, she would rip this witch’s soul from her body. She’d felt the thing’s mind, its sickness—a demented spirit, one full of dark, twisted impulses. She wasn’t going to give up her own body without a fight.