decided it was his job to keep me in line when Adam was gone.

“Hey, Darryl,” I said, trying not to sound like I was feeding a vampire.

My eyes fell on Ford, who had never risen from the floor but was staring at me with eyes that looked like polished yellow gems—citrine, maybe, or amber. I didn’t remember what color his eyes had been a few minutes ago, but I think I would have remembered the funky eyes if they’d been there then. He was getting very close to becoming vampire, I thought. Before I could get too scared, Darryl’s voice interrupted my thoughts.

“You left for Kyle’s house an hour ago, and Warren tells me you aren’t there yet.”

“That’s right,” I said, sounding astonished.

“Look at that. I’m not at Warren’s yet.”

“Smart-ass,” he growled.

Darryl and I had this love-hate thing going. I start to think he hates me, and he does something nice, like save my life or give me a cool pep talk. I decide he likes me, and he rips me a new one.

Probably I just confuse the heck out of him, and that’s okay, because the feeling is mutual.

Darryl, of all of Adam’s wolves, hates vampires the most. If I told him what I was doing, he’d be over here with reinforcements, and there would be bodies on the floor. Werewolves make everything more complicated than necessary.

“I’ve lived without babysitters for thirty-odd years,” I told him in a bored voice. “I’m sure I can manage to get to Kyle’s house without one.” I was getting a little dizzy. Lacking another method, I tapped Stefan on the head with the hand I held the cell phone in.

“What was that?” asked Darryl, and Stefan gripped my arm harder.

I sucked in my breath because Stefan was hurting me—and realized that Darryl had heard that, too.

“That was my lover,” I told Darryl. “Excuse me while I finish getting him off.” And I hung up the phone.

“Stefan,” I said. But it was unnecessary. He let me go, backed up a few steps, and knelt on one knee.

“Sorry,” he growled. His hands rested on the ground in front of him, fisted tight.

“No trouble,” I told him, glancing at my arm. The small wounds were sealed, healing quickly from his saliva. I’d learned more about vampires over the past year or so than I’d known the rest of my life. Ignorance had been bliss.

I knew, for instance, that because of my bonds with Adam, there would be no repercussions from letting Stefan feed from me again. A human without that protection who was food for the same vampire more than once could become a pet—as all the people in the menagerie were: dependent upon the vampire and ready to follow any orders he might give them.