Damian's gaze swept over her. A burst of need washed over her as her body responded to his scent.

"Are you well?" he asked with a brusqueness that caught her off guard. His face was guarded. She swallowed hard and nodded, struggling to control the strange sense of desire bubbling uncontrolled within her.

"Han said I should see you," she said. At his long look, she backed away from the door. "I'll come back later."

He threw open the door and walked away. She hesitated, sensing that entering his domain would somehow seal her to a fate she didn't yet understand.

I owe it to Jake.

Damian turned down the stereo blasting trance music and faced her, crossing his arms as she closed the door.

"I'm sorry to bother you," she said again, unable to see his face in the shadows of the dimly lit room.

"It's fine."

"Damian, I'm so sorry about Jake," she said, voice cracking and fading into a whisper. "He's been my friend for almost t...ten years. I'm so sorry."

He emerged from his defensive position, pausing near her. She wiped her eyes.

"I saw what Jilian did to him and what you did to Jilian. I saw what Jilian did to everyone, and Czerno ..." She closed her eyes. Damian rested his hands on her shoulders. The images left. "I didn't know there were such people in this world."

"They're not people," he told her. "Jake's death is not your fault."

"But it is. If I stayed here, he wouldn't have come to save me and died."

"Jake was a warrior, one of my loyal Guardians. I mourn him, but he died doing what he was trained to do. No warrior wants to die of old age," he said.

"He deserved better."

"You've been dropped into the middle of a war no human knows about. Men like Jake wouldn't want to die any other way than honorably defending people like you."

He touched her face, and her mouth went dry. Not trusting herself, she refused to look at him and instead wrapped her arms around him. He hesitated before hugging her. Engulfed in his heat and scent, she relaxed. He felt like home. No, better. He felt like a piece of heaven!

Her stomach grumbled loudly again.

"You're hungry," he said, withdrawing.

"I'll get something later," she said, surprised when he retreated across the room again. "Is everything okay?"

"Wonderful," was the sarcastic response. Confused by his moods, she watched him cross to a thick goblet with a knife beside it.

"I'll go now."

"You are about to confront your new reality," he said. His tone made her back toward the door. "C'mere."

She shook her head, fear spiraling through her.

"Sofia, what's done can't be undone, even if you want it so."

"You're scaring me."

"I told you I'd never hurt you," he said in a softer tone.

"I'm not feeling reassured right now!" she retorted.

He left the corner and approached her, stopping when she took a step back. He held out his hand.

"C'mere," he said more gently. "I promise not to harm you."

She hung in indecision for a long moment until she recalled that being in his arms was the only place she ever found peace. She placed her hand in his. He tugged her forward until their bodies met. Her blood surged with desire, her breathing quickening. She stared at his chest, afraid again to look up.

"Jilian killed you," he said, wrapping his arms around her in a secure hug.

"He said he was going to drain all my blood out." She leaned into him, at peace yet hyped up on adrenaline and desire.

"And he did. I brought you back."

"How?"

"With my blood. My blood runs through your veins. You need it to live."

"Of course I need blood to live," she said with a nervous laugh.

"It's the deepest bond my ... our kind can share and one that Czerno had in store for you."

You must die first.

... an Oracle must be bound ...

for all eternity ...

"You will never hunger for food nor thirst for water. I think you found out what eating does to you?"

She said nothing, her heart somersaulting.

"It's also a bond that folks in my position have to be careful about taking on, because it leaves me vulnerable. That can be an issue when you don't know how to fight. You make an easy target."

"Yes, I can see that," she agreed. "Are you going to teach me to fight?"

"Maybe. We have to get through this first."

She didn't want to ask but did. "Through what?"

His grip tightened around her, and she resisted the urge to push him away and flee. He pulled the knife from his pocket, flipped it inward, and sliced into the tender flesh of his wrist.

Horror and hunger surged through her. The scent of his blood was more intoxicating than a shitload of vodka on a Friday night. She craved him in a way that nearly crippled her.

"Oh God!" she whispered raggedly. "No! No, no, no!"

"You have no choice," he said with calmness that terrified her. "You'll die without it."

"Let me go!" She shoved against him as hard as she could, knowing when he released her it was because he wanted to. She tore out of his room, the scent of his blood ensnared in her senses.

She ran from the mansion into the gardens and toward the forest. Too weak to continue, she dropped to her knees. Her scream was one of fury and frustration. She screamed until she was hoarse, shaking in the chilled air.

"I guess he told you," Han said and squatted beside her. "You know, to our kind, it's an honor to be blood bound to someone like him."

It should have been her instead of Jake! Damian's words swirled through her thoughts, along with the scent of his blood. The thought of drinking from him made her sick, and she pushed herself up to vomit.

"I want to die, Han," she cried. "I can't live like this! I'm a monster!"

"You have no idea what he went through to save you. Because of him, you're alive, and you still have a soul. If he didn't bind you, you'd be bound to Czerno, and then you'd really want to kill yourself," he said. "You're bound to our king, our god, our master. If anyone else saw you refuse him, they'd kill you for disrespecting him."

"I'm human, Han," she argued.

"Not anymore. You're one of us now."

"I won't do it," she swore. She threw up again, sick and weak.

"You have no choice, ikira."

What's done can't be undone. She wept, not objecting when Han deftly lifted her and carried her back to her room.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

My name is Darian. Help me. The man in her head just wouldn't leave her alone. She spent the better half of the next day too depressed to leave her bed before forcing herself up and parking on the patio in the sun, determined not to waste another day in the dark. Darian-whoever he was-would drive her crazy if she didn't find a way to distract her thoughts. Han stayed with her, not moving until two Guardians-a raven-haired man with a quick smile and a brooding blond-approached. He stood and shook hands with both of them.

"The winter's better here than Europe, I imagine," he said with a smile. "This is Ikira Sofia."

"Ikira, I'm honored," the dark-haired man said with a bow and a thick Spanish accent. "I'm Grande."

"That would be a description of his ego and nothing else," the brooding blond said with a light French accent. "I'm Pierre, ikira."

"Boring," Grande said. "He skipped the class on good nom de plumes."

Pierre gave him a sidelong look at his butchered French, and Sofia smiled despite herself.

"Grande and Pierre are joining us from our European front. We rotate every twelve months or so," Han explained.

"Front? Like war front?" she asked.

"Fighting Czerno and his monsters."

"Ikira, welcome," Grande said.

"Thanks. Call me Sofia."

"No," Han said, leveling a look on them both. "Dusty's a stickler for titles."

"Mi corazn," Grande said, faking a wounded look. Pierre punched him in the shoulder, and they walked toward the garage.

"What is ikira?" she asked, turning to Han.

"Similar to 'my queen.' You rank up near Damian now."

Her smile faded. The mention of him reminded her of her cramped stomach and the half dozen failed attempts to eat normal food.

"It's a good thing," Han said at her silence. "He owns your ass. No one will mess with you."

"Great," she muttered.

"I bet you won't make it another day and a half," he said.

"We'll see. Let me ask you something, Han," she said, facing him. "What am I supposed to be doing? If I'm not a financial planner, should I be oracl-ing or something?"

"Ask your master."

"I knew you'd say that. And he's not my master. I'm an American; we don't have masters."

"I will give you a piece of advice," he said, unaffected by her tirade. "Don't wait until tomorrow to go to him or you'll crawl to him on your knees. No matter what you think, you can't live without his blood. You might as well make it on your terms, ordering him to submit, rather than begging and mauling him like an animal."

"Wow," she murmured. "You really want to win this bet, don't you?"

"You're too smart to be so damn stubborn. Jake lost his life saving you, Sofia, and you're acting like a fucking two-year-old." And he walked away. Sofia watched him, stunned by his rebuke. Her thoughts went to Jake, and she saddened. He was right. He was always right, even when he told her to ask Damian something he knew very well.

On her terms. If she had it her way, she'd not do it at all. She'd never known hunger like this!

"It's your fate," she reminded herself.

How silly was an Oracle who refused her own destiny? If for no other reason, she owed it to Jake to try. She drew a deep breath and marched into the mansion. Damian was rarely indoors during the day, and she hoped he wasn't in his room when she knocked. Her courage fled to see him framed in his doorway, as seductive by day as he was by night.

He didn't ask her why she came but stepped aside and motioned her in. Sofia balled her fists and entered, sweating at the thought of the ordeal ahead.

"I feel like some sort of animal," she told him. But I want to live. "I'm scared, Damian."

"I know," he said, holding out a hand to her.

She took it, her insides quaking in anticipation and hunger. He sat her down on the couch and sat down across from her with the knife in hand. She closed her eyes, more of his home videos playing through her mind.

"Stop," he warned.

She opened her eyes. A flash of darkness went through his gaze, and the same sense of hidden fury returned.