After all I’d been through in my life, the death of my parents, the heartbreak of failed relationships, the physical pain of having my heart literally ripped out, nothing had ever hurt as bad as watching my sire struggle against this unseen enemy.

His helplessness evaporated the last of my fear. “It’s me.”

“Don’t leave me alone,” he begged, clawing frantically at the cuff around his wrists.

“I won’t.” I climbed onto the bed, into the slim space between his body and the edge of the mattress. “I’m not going to leave you, Nathan.”

He relaxed more when I pressed myself flush against him and draped my arm over his chest. Despite the darkness, I saw something change in his eyes. They were still glazed from whatever herbal concoction the werewolf had given him, but now I recognized him there.

His foot found its way from under the blankets and he hooked it around my ankle. “I’ve made a mess of things, haven’t I?”

“No,” I assured him, reaching to smooth a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “We’re going to fix this.”

He shook his head. “I meant with you.”

I couldn’t hold back my tears anymore, but I refused to let him see them. I buried my face against his side. “I’m not afraid of you, Nathan. You haven’t done anything to hurt me.”

“You were my second chance,” he said sleepily. “And I screwed it up.”

I stayed with him, partly because I’d promised, partly because I needed to touch him to assure myself of his presence, physical if not mental. Being there seemed to keep the beast at bay, and if nothing else, I could assure him some rest.

Still, his words echoed in my brain. “You were my second chance.”

I didn’t want to apply any hidden meaning to them, but as in most things, what I wanted and what I got were two different creatures.

Was I his second chance at love? That sounded incredibly corny, like the title of a movie you’d see on the women’s channel. His second chance to have a relationship with someone he didn’t end up killing? I should certainly hope so.

Or did the words even apply to me? He was drugged and possessed, drifting in and out of lucidity. What were the chances he was talking to some demon creature in another dimension?

Or this one? I cast a fearful glance around the shadowy room, then dismissed that notion. I was too old to be afraid of the dark, especially since the other half of me was consumed by fear of the light.