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“Julian?” comes Andi’s voice again, tormenting and soothing me all at once. “Commandant? What did I do? What is happening? Julian!”

Then she is gone, my office door closing behind her. I immediately want to follow her, bring her back, and kill Gaspard for putting his hands on her, even at my orders. Nothing makes sense. Normally, blood works its way through a vampire’s system quickly, a day at most. I have to wait until I am free from her grasp, then I can see her again. And interrogate my mouse turned snake.

∆∆∆

THE SUN IS ALREADY SETTING again, but I pace through my library, poring over ancient tomes, looking for information on sirens and finding frustratingly little. Only a few mentions of being enthralled by sirens, serving in their armies, helpless to do anything but please them. There’s so little that it's almost like the knowledge of sirens has been purposefully erased. The only real mention I see is from a hundred years ago, when a vampire historian named Magnus the Blade made an entry declaring the sirens extinct. Which is obviously untrue. The passage is succinct but morose, as if the vampire mourns the passing of the devils. Which is odd. Was he one of the enthralled, serving one of them? Made to love and worship what he should hate? If so, shouldn’t he have been released from the mind control when his siren mistress was killed? Does that mean that the feelings I have are permanent, even if the blood leaves my system? It just raises more questions than it answers. So all I know is what my maker told me and these odd tidbits.

It has almost been a full twenty-four hours, but the grip she has on my sanity has not waned. If anything, the biting, feral instinct bidding me to find her and bring her back to my side has only grown into a snarling monster in my chest. Nothing feels right with Andi gone, and my thoughts are full of concern for my new mistress. Is she alright in the cell? Is she frightened? Is she hungry, thirsty? To assuage that thought, I sent a lackey, a newly turned recruit named Alejandro, to bring her food. He’ll remember more than the others what humans actually eat. He goes without hesitation, but comes back, apprehension in his steps.

“She says she will not eat,” he tells me in accented English. “She says that she is not hungry.”

That can’t be true. She hasn’t eaten all day. Her early-morning dinner was hours ago. But then, I have known her for a few days now, and she doesn’t eat when she is distressed. The idea of Andi, in the cell that we reserve for enemies and traitors, distressed and not eating, makes me wish to kill the messenger in front of me. Never mind that it is all by my own orders. I can’t take it anymore. I have to see her, even though it is very clear that, even a day later, the effects of her blood have not worn off.

Dismissing Alejandro by ignoring him, I brush past him as he hastily moves out of my way, and leave the library. I stride through the halls of my home, feeling off kilter. Everything seems sharper, clearer with her blood in me. I feel stronger, faster, but not entirely in control of my own body. Is this another effect of being siren-bound? Made to be more so that I can better serve her? I hate the thought, even as it feels right in my chest.

I make my way to the holding cell in the basement and find Gaspard guarding the door. He stiffens as I near.

“Commandant?” he asks, as unsure as I have ever heard him. “What is the threat? Why put the girl in the cell?”

My lips curl in a sneer. I still partially blame Gaspard for my current predicament, even though I am almost positive that he could not have known. He is loyal to a fault, and besides, this is no way to take power. If he wanted to kill me and take my place, there are easier ways than to find an extinct Other and plant her in front of me. When he first brought her case to my attention, he said that she was looking for a standard blood contract. How could he have known that I would want to feed on her myself? It’s too roundabout to be a plot.

I sigh and take control of myself. Gaspard will live to see another moonrise. For now.

“She is a siren,” I tell him, still watching him closely for any tells. Any sign that he might have known.

His eyebrows raise, which is practically a shout of alarm from the stoic vampire. “Are you sure? I thought . . .”

“That they were all dead?” I query. “We all thought that. We apparently thought wrong.”

Gaspard nods slowly to himself. “I’ll take care of it,” he offers.

I snarl and dart forward, grabbing his neck and slamming him into the wall, and lifting so that his feet are off the ground. It happens so quickly, with my new strength and agility, that he cannot even blink before it happens. Interesting. I am as fast to other vampires now as we normally are to humans.

“You’ll do nothing to her. Not touch her. Not think of her,” I spit out. “Understand?”

“Understood,” he gasps out around my grip. “But, Commandant . . . isn’t she dangerous? To you? To the Fraternity?”

I hold him up against the wall for a moment more before releasing him. He drops, but finds his feet quickly. Gaspard coughs a little, but largely doesn’t react, standing up straight and looking me in the eyes. He wants to know the answer.

Unfortunately, I have none to give him. “That is what I’ll find out. Now open the door.”

Gaspard hesitates, and I don’t blame him, even as it annoys me. All older vampires have heard stories about the siren-bound, how unstable they are, and the lengths they will go to for their siren. He likely is weighing whether it is best to keep us apart. My muscles tense, and lethal energy fills me. I can’t be separated from her much longer. It will drive me mad. I am rethinking my decision not to kill my right-hand, but then loyalty and obedience win out as he moves to the side, undoing the lock and opening the door into the dim cell.

Good. I won't have to kill him after all.

Chapter 15

Andi

I am officially freaking out. One moment, I was cresting on wave after wave of gentle, unrelenting pleasure, better than any drug, and then the next, I was thrown into this room. Into this cell.

It’s the size of a closet, not big enough to lie down all the way. The walls are made of freaking black steel, with rivets and everything. One dim, bare bulb is attached to the ceiling, giving off dismal light, flickering occasionally. The air is cold and uncomfortable, though not cold enough to be dangerous. Just enough that I have goose pimples on my skin and the tracks of tears down my face feel icy. A plate of uneaten food and an unopened can of soda sit in front of me, brought by a vampire that I didn’t recognize. Like I could eat now.

How long have I been in here? Without windows, it’s hard to tell. I’m exhausted, but that’s to be expected. I’ve been up for hours, unable to sleep. I think I dozed against the wall an hour or two-ish ago, but I woke up right away, alert and panicked. Surely, it hasn’t been longer than a full day? Is it Friday? Will they be looking for me at rehearsal, wondering where I am? If Colton finally got to me? No, I’m letting my panic get the best of me. I haven’t even needed to use the restroom yet, though that might be because I haven’t eaten since before Julian fed on me. It can’t have been that long. A full twenty-four hours at most.

What did I do to get thrown in here? I did what I was asked. I gave my blood. I even kissed that crazy Commandant twice, even though I knew it was a bad idea. Maybe this is how he treats all his blood donors. He did say that he could become possessive, but throwing me into a literal dungeon seems a bit much.

The door opens, and I hurriedly wipe my face. I don’t want them to see that I was crying. I hate that I cry when I’m scared, but it is what it is. I look up and, to my shock, see Julian, looking at me with an inscrutable expression. I scoot backward until my back hits the wall, which isn’t very far. There’s no way I can get away from him if he decides he wants to hurt me.