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He settled on his knees, straddling me, hands in the grass on either side of my head as he leaned so close our faces almost touched. “Lucky for you, I can do just that. You want me to heal you, don’t you, Charlotte? I feel as though we should be on a first name basis at this point. After all. you’re practically naked. Wait I can fix that, too, can’t I?”

His hand shot out and ripped off my bra. I cursed him in my mind, wishing I could use my voice.

“Now you are completely naked. So yes, first name basis is appropriate. Would you like some of my blood, Charlotte? It will heal this right up for you.” He set a hand on the wound and squeezed, intentionally sending stars bursting through my vision. “Just speak up if you don’t want me to.”

Asshole, I screamed in my head.

“Good.” Carmichael lifted his wrist to his lips then hesitated. “Oh, but you might want to hurt me if you’re all better. How can I prevent that?” He tapped a long finger against his chin, pretending to think as I screamed in my mind for Julian or Sam to come back and tear him to shreds.

“You know you can’t go to anyone about this, or your dear sister may pay the consequences, right?” he asked. “Right. Of course you do. But I can’t risk your immediate retribution, so…I’ll just have to take enough blood from you to make sure you’re still too weak when I heal you. Of course, if I accidentally give you too much of mine, I could inadvertently turn you into a vampire. And I’d be your sire.” He squeezed the wound again, his thumb sliding toward the inside of my thigh at the same time.

No. Please no. No. No. No. No. Visions of my father’s turning flooded my mind. The vamp that tore out his throat, the blood rushing like an out-of-control river from the wound. Then the same face that loomed above mine, tearing open his wrist and forcing it to my father’s mouth, holding his head in place as he slid in a pool of his own blood to the floor…

Carmichael bent his head to the crook of my shoulder and neck as my lungs pumped wildly, searching for more air because I was sure I was drowning. His tongue darted out, wetting the spot as he growled. He lowered his body down on top of mine and ground against me as the tips of his fangs lightly teased my skin.

Aim for the skull, Pythia said, snapping me out of my panic, and I reached out with my telekinesis for the champagne bottle in the cooler. I couldn’t lift my hand to grab it, but if I aimed like she’d suggested, I wouldn’t have to.

Sure enough, the bottle whacked Carmichael in the side of the face, sending him onto the ground next to me. He hissed and sat up, but I did it again, and when he caught the bottle, both glasses smashed down over the top of his blonde head.

I couldn’t keep it up forever as I would run out of both energy and items to throw at him. But I had a sudden idea. It wasn’t my favorite, but I saw no other way out of this. So, as he threw glass off of himself and crawled over me again with glowing, scarlet eyes, I focused all my attention on the largest shard of glass in my peripheral vision. I let him think I was done. I let him rub against me again, let him puncture the skin of my throat. But before he could lap up my blood, the sharpest end cut quick and deep into his neck below the ear.

Right above my face.

His blood, thick and metallic dripped over my chin, nose, and into my mouth before he realized what had happened and jerked away again, covering the wound with a hand.

“What did you do?” he yelled, staring at my mouth as I licked the rest of the blood I could reach with my now working tongue.

“Freeze,” I said, and took a moment to appreciate the shock and fear stuck on his stupid face as I reassured myself I’d have had to not only lost a lot more of my own blood, but drunk several glasses worth of his to be turned. Even the tiny bit I’d ingested made the delicious dinner in my stomach want to make a reappearance.

I climbed to my feet, found Sam’s shirt, and pulled it on as I contemplated my next actions. He’d arranged to have the information about Zoe leaked if I stopped him. But there were other options, and the rage that burned inside me had me envisioning many painful commands.

The memory of the last vampire that had assaulted me melded with my current situation, making me wonder if Sam was right about at least some of it. No, Julian was not like that, but he was a pigheaded man who left me vulnerable because of his rash actions. And every other vampire I’d met… Well, right now, this one was going to suffer my wrath.

“What do you know about the murders and kidnapping?” I asked first, ignoring the headache that bloomed behind my eyes from using so much energy.

“I killed Michelle and made it look the same as Maryanne,” he said then hissed again. “But you will not repeat that.”

Maybe. I’d find a way to get justice for her.

“But that doesn’t matter,” he said, eyes glowing red. “You’re asking the wrong questions, Doctor. I don’t care who killed or kidnapped shifters. You should be far more concerned about who is going to end up controlling your power.”

I gritted my teeth hard. “I am the only one controlling my power. And that isn’t going to change.”

“If that’s what you want, I would be a great asset to you.”

I barked a laugh. “Oh really? The way you’ve demonstrated how trustworthy you are, I assume.”

“I am a powerful v—”

“Shut up!” I screamed, and his mouth stopped moving. I pressed my eyes closed for a moment and drew in a breath. Now was the time to ask him for truth not let him run off at the mouth. And the real question that burned my lips had nothing to do with me or the current murders.

“Did you turn my father?” The words came out sounding frail and high. But I had to stop denying what the visions were telling me. I had to know if it was the similarity of the situation or a legitimate memory.

“I don’t know who your father is,” Carmichael hissed.

“Dr. Eric Devaux,” I enunciated each syllable carefully as I stalked forward, hands shaking and fisted in barely controlled rage. “Did you turn him?”

Recognition flashed in Carmichael’s eyes. “Yes. I saved him. I couldn’t allow him to die.”