I twisted, trying to get away. “Not quite right,” it murmured, and I struggled as its features shifted yet again. It grew smaller, only a head taller than I. Its hair grew long and straight and black. The blond stubble vanished, and the complexion paled to a ghost. Kisten’s square jaw smoothed out to an oval.

“Ivy,” I whispered, going slack in terror.

“You give me a name,” it said, its voice becoming slow and feminine. “You want this?”

I tried to swallow. I couldn’t move. “You don’t scare me,” I whispered.

Its eyes flashed black. “Ivy does.”

I stiffened, trying to jerk away as it brought my wrist closer. “No!” I screamed as it opened its mouth to show fangs. It bit deep, and I screamed. Fire raced up my arm and into my body. It chewed at my wrist like a dog as I writhed, trying to pull away.

I felt skin tear as I twisted. I brought my knee up and pushed it away. It let go. I fell back panting, transfixed. It was as if Ivy stood before me, my blood dripping from her smile. A hand rose to brush the hair from its eyes, leaving a red smear across its forehead.

I couldn’t … I couldn’t deal with this. Taking a gasping breath, I ran for the door.

The thing snaked an arm out with a vampire’s quickness and jerked me back. Pain flared as it slammed me against the cement wall. Ivy’s pale hand pinned me. “Let me show you what vamps do behind locked doors, Rachel Mariana Morgan,” it breathed.

I realized I was going to die in the basement of the university library.

The thing that was Ivy leaned close. I could feel my pulse pushing at my skin. My wrist tingled warmly. Ivy’s face was inches from mine. It was getting better at pulling images out of my head. There was a crucifix around its neck, and I could smell orange juice. Its eyes were smoky with a remembered look of sultry hunger. “No,” I whispered. “Please, no.”

“I can have you anytime I want, little witch,” it whispered, the gray silk of its voice twin to Ivy’s.

I panicked, struggling helplessly. The thing that looked like Ivy grinned to show teeth. “You are so afraid,” it whispered lovingly, tilting its head so its black hair brushed my shoulder. “Don’t be so afraid. You’ll like it. Didn’t I say you would?”

I jerked as something touched my neck. A small sound escaped me as I realized it was a quick tongue. “You’re going to love it,” it said in Ivy’s throaty whisper. “Scout’s honor.”

Images of being pinned to Ivy’s chair flooded back. The thing holding me against the wall groaned in pleasure and nuzzled my head aside. Terrified, I screamed.

“Oh, please,” the thing moaned as I felt the cool, icy sharpness of teeth graze my neck. “Oh, please. Now …”

“No!” I shrieked, and it drove its teeth into me. Three times it lunged with rapid, hungry motions. I buckled in its grip. Still fastened to me, we dropped to the floor. It crushed me under it against the cold cement. Fire burned at my neck. A twin sensation rose up my wrist, joining it in my head. Shudders racked me. I could hear it sucking at me, feel the rhythmic pulls as it tried to take more than my body could give.