The room was dark, probably to lessen the stimulation for Nathan. When I stepped through the door, he shouted and twisted against whatever restraints Max had come up with. His big body stressed the bedsprings and made the frame groan. The sound immediately conjured up memories of all the times I’d heard it under much more pleasurable circumstances. Then I felt suddenly guilty and perverse.

I wondered if he knew I was there. I could escape now. I don’t have to stand here with him knowing what I’ve done.

Then I remembered the blood tie, and I wanted to smack myself in the head. I hadn’t been consciously blocking him from my thoughts. Could he have heard them?

Would he understand if I spoke? The last time I’d seen him, he’d been a mindless, blood-soaked animal. We’d communicated through the blood tie, but only briefly, before whatever was wreaking havoc with his mind had taken hold of him again.

I couldn’t speak, anyway. I opened my mouth, but what would I say? I leaned against the cool, painted wood of the closed door, my breath far too loud in the tortured silence.

Finally, Nathan spoke. His voice was raw and exhausted, but it was Nathan, not the monster who’d attacked me. “Carrie?”

“It’s me.” I took a careful step forward. Though I knew he was restrained, though I knew he was my sire and I had nothing to fear from him, all I could remember was the blood splashing onto me from his torn skin. Morbid as it seemed, Nathan’s blood had always smelled like home to me. The memory of the putrid stench of it the night he’d attacked me kept my feet rooted stubbornly to the ground.

“They’ve tied me up, dotaír.” His slurred endearment, Gaelic for doctor, brought a sad smile to my mouth. After a drunken sigh, he added, “And drugged me.”

“I’ve missed you.” I had to force the words past a lump that felt dangerously like impending tears. “How do you feel?”

“Drugged,” he repeated with an inebriated chuckle. “I’ve missed you, too.”

“You sound a lot better than you did the last time I saw you, at any rate.” I tried to inject some humor into the statement, but it fell flat.

Only silence greeted me. For a moment, I wondered if Nathan had fallen asleep. Then, very quietly, he said, “Did I hurt you? I don’t remember.”

With sudden violence, he strained against his bonds and shouted in the frightening language he’d used the night he’d been possessed. He finished his angry tirade with a growling, “Let me up!”

“I can’t do that, Nathan.” I tried to be firm, but my voice shook. So did my hands, as I stepped closer to the bed and laid just my fingertips on his chest.

He sank back onto the mattress almost immediately. “Carrie?”