Disclaimer: I do not, in any way, profit from this story and all creative rights to the characters belong to Richelle Mead.

The original content, ideas and intellectual property of this story are owned by Ms. Belikov. Please do not copy, reproduce, or translate without express written permission.

Previously on Kill or be Killed…

"How about this," I said, slamming my feet down on the desk. "I'll help you when you absolutely need it."

We'd been discussing this alone in my office for the past two hours, and we'd done everything but settle on an agreement. Well, not everything. I eyed his package, then quickly looked away. The thing was, Dimitri and I were like two bulls in the same pin—we'd done nothing but bump heads. The Master vampire wanted the Guardians help—no he needed our help. Aside from his group of vampire super heroes, we were the best fighters in the world. Well, the best fighters he'd ever come along. I took it as a huge compliment, even though it came from a complete arrogant asshole.

Rumor had it that there was a war coming. A Master vampire—I still wasn't a 100% sure it wasn't Dimitri, in spite of everything he'd tried to prove me he was innocent—was recruiting a mass army of Strigoi in an attempt to dominate the world. His goal was to wipe out any vampire who wouldn't surrender to him, and enslave those who did. Man, that guy seriously had power trip problems. Apparently, Dimitri was positive of what was coming and when it was coming: soon. Otherwise, he wouldn't be here, forcing me to help him. I didn't want to ask him how he got all of his information—it probably involved a lot of blood shed, broken bones, and dead Strigoi bodies. My stomach churned.

The Master vampire planted his fists on the polished mahogany desk, eyes blazing with barely concealed rage. "I don't make conditions. You play by my rules."

"Or else?" I challenged him. Something very stupid of me. No one ever crossed a Master vampire if you favored actually having a pulse.

His eyes flashed, and then a sinister smile twisted his lips, making my blood turn to ice. "I hear you have a human friend by the name of Mason Thomas Ashford." he said simply, the treat obvious in his voice.

My heart jumped into my throat. "You wouldn't dare," I said, suddenly finding it hard to breathe.

"You are very protective of him. Why?"

"He's my friend. I protect him, as I would anyone of my Guardians."

"Are you in love with him?"

"No." I said a little too quickly, and Dimitri smiled like a man who hit the nail on the head.

"And I would assume you'd like him to say human?"

I growled barbarically. "I won't let you turn him into a vampire."

Dimitri leaned his hip against my desk, crossing his arms over his huge chest. "Who ever said vampire?"

In a micro second, I was out of my chair and advancing on him. But before I could wrap my hands around his throat like I'd planned, he'd flipped me around and slammed me against a near wall, immobilizing me with his body. "You don't want to do that," he whispered.

"If you make him a Strigoi, I will rip your head off with my bare hands and watch it burn in the sun." He was an all powerful Master vampire. He was one of very few who could make Strigoi. Of course, it took a sick bastard to do such a thing, make minions. But Dimitri, evidently, was a sick fuck.

"I just want to make sure we're on the same page," Dimitri pressed his nose into my hair and inhaled deeply, and I'd be damned, but my body reacted to him, readied itself for him. And I knew without a doubt he knew it. "We are on the same page, right, Roza?"

My senses seemed to be on vacation. I swallowed hard and nodded dazedly, wildly. My stomach, full with the cookies he'd fed me, turned into a bottomless, achy pit. I wanted his warm blood in my mouth, sliding down my throat, filling my belly with satisfaction.

"Good." Suddenly, he pulled away from me completely and my body groaned in protest. "My team and I will be here tomorrow at sunset. Be prepared to train."

I spun around, still dazed from his blistering touch that awakened such heat inside of me. My skin felt on fire. "Train? Why?"

"Because the Guardians techniques are lousy," he said, and I narrowed my eyes. How could I be so angry and so turned on at the same time? "We need to teach you how to fight properly. Erase everything you've ever learned and rebuild you into true warriors."

"Fuck you. I'm a fantastic fighter." I yelled, but the door already slammed shut. I ran over to the broken window, just in time to see Dimitri and his fighters disappear into the shadows of the forest. "You still owe me new windows! Don't forget it, you douche!"

The Master vampire smiled in amusement. I wasn't sure how I knew it—I couldn't seem him—I just did.

Damn, what had I gotten myself and the Guardians into?

Rose POV:

"You cannot be serious," I groaned, hearing the consistent pounding on my door. "Go away!" It didn't help that I was growling and savagely baring my teeth, considering the person on the other side of the door was ignoring all of my warning signals. No one interrupted my beauty sleep unless they had a death wish.

Stuffing my head in the sea of read and white pillows on my bed, I squeezed my eyes shut and tried my best to go back to rest

Without warning, the door flung open and Dimitri walked in. I turned my head, my jaw snapping in full animal mode. But then I froze when I saw what he was wearing. Loose black track pants and a black tank top that clung to him like a second skin. His body was even more amazing than it was in his impeccable suits. His skin was a perfect golden-brown, exposing a series of intricate tattoos in an ancient language I didn't understand and some sort of tribal ink that had me peculiarly curious. His biceps were huge, perfectly muscled, and hard as marble. His chest and shoulders were like steel, incredibly powerful with graceful cords of muscle, straining the fabric of his shirt as he stalked over to my bed and planted fists on each side of my ribcage.

I couldn't help but recoil internally. I was so tiny compared to him, dwarfed and shadowed beneath his incredible body. However, I didn't let my fear show. We were both leaders. People looked up to us for guidance, relied on us for strength, expected us to shoulder their burdens and always have the answer to everything. We were here to do a job, not but heads like two bulls trapped in a pin. We could be civil with one another, and we would be.

"The sun set half an hour ago. Why aren't you ready, woman?" The Master vampire said, then swiftly flipped my bed over with one powerful surge.

Maybe civil just wasn't us.

As I landed smashed beneath the heavy load, I was right back to being hostile. With a snarl, I maneuvered my way out, stood up, and fought the urge to pick up the mattress and throw it out the damn window. It wouldn't have the dramatic affect I was going for anyways, considering the windows of my penthouse had been shattered.

"You didn't seriously just call me woman, did you?" I asked, incredulous.

Dimitri cocked his head and studied me thoroughly for a full moment, spending several seconds on each part of me: tangled hair, sleep-swollen mouth and eyes, lacy white spaghetti strap shirt, underwear, legs, toes. "Would little girl be more appropriate?"

I huffed, glaring at him. "It's called a name. That's what we use these days, in the year of 2011. My name is Rose. Try it out on your tongue. Rose. Come on, comrade. I know you can do it. Rooooosssseeeee. Man, someone needs to drag you into this century."

"You know, Ms. Hathaway, I can think of something more pleasant and enduring you can do with that pretty mouth instead of running it incessantly." he said, studying my lips with carnality and an animal need. His dark eyes glittered.

Uncalled for oral sex jokes now? Really?

I gaped, absolutely stunned. That was it. No one crossed that line.

"Listen, Dimitri…" I kicked a pillow aside and stood chest-to-chest with him. Well, sort of. He was really tall. I had to crane my neck to look up at his face. "You may not like me, that's completely fine with me. The feeling is mutual. But when you're in my home, on my turf, I demand respect. And if you're not willing to give that to me, then you can get the fuck out of my life."

He stared at me for the longest time, not saying anything. The smile curving his lips was that of a predator, a hint of amusement. He was utterly motionless, menacing in his stillness.

I waited breathlessly, fear nearly suffocating me. I may be one of the greatest fighters, but Dimitri was the absolute best, one of the most powerful beings roaming the Earth. He'd been around much longer than I had, seen so much more, experienced so much more. If he wanted to, he could snap me in half like a toothpick and there wasn't a thing I could do about it.

I flinched when he lifted his hand and brushed his long fingers across my cheekbone, a delicate touch, soft as a feather, yet it had me trembling, the heat shooting all the way to my toes.

"American women can be so stubborn, but you, Ms. Hathaway, have to be the most obstinate one I have ever met." Dimitri said, voice sliding over me like hot silk. "Have no fret, though, you can be trained with the right methods."

And just like that, the lust trance I was under shattered. On impulse, I went to smack him, but of course he predicated my movements and caught my wrist mid-air. I went for the other one, and he caught it too.

"You arrogant bastard," I gritted my teeth.

"Get dressed. Everyone is already awaiting your arrival in the dining room." The Master vampire turned and headed for the door, apparently not worried that I'd pull a fast one and tackle him from behind, which sounded very tempting now that I thought about it.

"Oh, and Ms. Hathaway," Dimitri paused, hand curled around the door knob.

I made a little sound in the back of my throat, too impatient and annoyed and flustered to talk.

"I do respect you," he told me, completely serious. I sensed the insincerity in his tone, and a second later, his mouth twitched. And then loud, taunting, mocking laughter erupted and filled the capacity of my room, enraging me.

With one last contemptuous smile thrown over his shoulder, he slammed the door shut.

Lissa POV:

I swore when the wand hit me in the nose, smearing mascara. With another swear, I ripped a Kleenex from the box and wiped the makeup away, getting even angrier when my attempts merely smeared it more, making it worst.

I had been like this throughout the whole night as I slept, and when I woke up, everything had only grown worse. I needed a really hard workout, one that put me into an exhausted sleep filled with the darkness of oblivion, instead of erotic images of Christian, the taste of his blood on my tongue, the feel of his broad, warm palms stroking my back gently as I fed.

Once the black smudges were cleaned up, I moisturized and powdered, smoothed on some blush, a touch of liner, and applied a generous amount of my favorite frost pink lip gloss.

It was hard to ignore the spasms and twitches, my ultrasensitive skin, my strung-out, restless legs. The nausea was constantly there. I'd attempted to force myself to vomit earlier, but nothing happened aside from a whole lot of dry heaving. It only made matters worse, most likely because I didn't have the stomach to eat or even think about food.

"Hey, Sunshine."

I jumped at the sound of that silky, ominous voice. I met ice-blue eyes through the reflection of the mirror, and it instantly sent thrilling chills from my head to my toes. "Will you quit calling me that?" I bristled, slightly annoyed.

Christian shook his head, mouth set in a grim line. "I'm afraid that's not possible. Why do you wear all that gunk on your face?"

Gunk? "It's called makeup," Geez. These guys were really old school, weren't they. "And I wear it because it makes me look pretty." I'd always felt plain without dolling my face up every morning, my skin too dull, the sensitive area beneath my eyes too puffy and dark.

A snort escaped his mouth, a bewildered and slightly amused sound. "You look a hell of lot better without it," he walked up to study my collection of perfume bottles, and I immediately tensed.

"Have you any manners?" I asked, brushing my long hair until it felt like golden silk. "I enjoy my personal space, so please, if you wouldn't mind taking a step back."

Christian ignored me, twirling my favorite bottle of Juicy Couture between his long, beautiful fingers. "And with it, you look fake, superficial," he said bluntly, truthfully. He lifted his eyes to mine. "I hate fake and superficial, Sunshine."

"Yeah, well," I swallowed hard, my mouth and throat suddenly super dry. "Nobody asked for your opinion."

"I love this scent," Christian said after bringing the bottle of Juicy to his nose and inhaling deeply. "Almost certainly because it reminds me of you."

"Okay, look, I just met you yesterday. Stop with the come-ons, will you? It's freaking me out." I walked out of the bathroom and snapped off the light, giving him my back.

"You lie to me."

Huge mistake. Never give your enemy your back. They won't hesitate in turning on you, which was exactly what Christian did.

With extraordinary speed, he gave a great big leap that reminded me of a jungle cat and pinned me against the wall. Both of his hands slid up my arms and braced against my shoulders, and one of his legs went between mine. I was completely immobilized by his incredible strength, absolutely furious because of the powerlessness.

"You coward," I worked my molars. "You wait until I turn around and then attack." If he would have fought me face-to-face, it would have been an even match. I would have had a fair chance. Christian and I were both fourth-generation vampires, meaning we were equally matched, in both strength and brains. If he hadn't pulled that surprise assault, I would have given him one hell of a fight.

I struggled to get out of his hold, and he struggled to keep me down. I felt little satisfaction in knowing that he wouldn't be able to keep me down forever.

"What the fuck is happening to me?" Christian growled, all pretenses of friendliness gone. He was all animal, purely cruel and unrelenting.

I knew exactly what he meant by that question immediately. I had been asking myself the same thing ever since last night, when I'd traveled to the other side and brought him back to life. There had been this sickness in my body and mind ever since, an endless feeling of exhaustion and weakness.

"I don't know," I answered truthfully, trying to ignore the feel of his blistering hot, hard body crushed against mine. It was hard to deny my attraction for him, but we couldn't have been different. If I was summer, he was winter. A harsh, deadly freezing winter.

"You don't know?" he exploded. "Bloody hell! You did this to me, and you don't know! Un-fucking-believable!"

My fury boiled with each word and went through the roof by the time he was done yelling at me. "I brought you back to life! I believe a thank you is in order. Actually, I take that back. I believe you should get on your knees, kiss my feet, and thank the heavens that I was ever born. If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't be here right now. Your ashes would have been spread wherever your brother decided would be appropriate, and eventually you'd be forgotten, nothing but a distant memory. So, yeah, you're very welcome!" I was breathless, desperately drawing air into my lungs. I needed to calm down before I experienced a heart attack.

"Grateful? I should be grateful?" Christian laughed bitterly. "Do you realize the magnitude of what you are asking me?"

"Do you realize the hell I had to go through to bring your pain in the ass back?" I asked. "I am ill, incredibly weak, and my vision is terrible. It will take months for me to get back to my usual strength. I could have let you die, I should have let you die. But I didn't."

Christian breathed deeply, rested his head against my shoulder, as if he was suddenly tired. He then did something that shocked me even more: He released me completely, giving me my power back, but his hands remained loosely on my body, like he was seeking comfort.

It was hard not to be fooled. Any second he could reach up and break my neck.

"I feel like the old me really is dead. I don't know. It's hard to explain." Christian said. "I keep seeing your face in my head, it's filled to the maximum capacity with images of your delicate face, your enormous green eyes, your perfect bow lips, your body, your scent." he whispered hoarsly. "And then I hear your voice, but I am aware that you're not talking; your mouth does not move. And I realize that it's not you talking, but in fact, your thoughts. I am able to read everything you're thinking. Why is this? Explain to me, please. I am so confused. I don't like being confused."

I reached out spiritually and got a good read on his aura, and gasped audibly, the air vacuumed from my lungs. "We're bonded."

Bond-mates were a legend, unheard of. A myth, as many people believed. Before my birth mothers ultimate demise, she had been incredibly powerful. One of a kind. She had been immortal and invincible, protected and worshiped by vampires of the Ancient land. She had held the power of life and death at her fingertips. She took lives and often gave them back, but it was when she became sick with power that led to her fall into an irreversible black hole, succumbing to insanity. My mother had escaped and ran away only to never be heard from again.

Her bond-mate, Julio, had committed suicide quickly thereafter, following a heartbreaking journey in which he searched years for his missing half. But her mind had been to far gone, too dark, that he hadn't been able to see into, gain no insight to where she was.

Several years later, she had been pronounced dead by law.

My point was, bond-mates indeed existed. They were very rare, but possible. And since I had brought him back to life, our souls were bound to one another. Christian and I needed each other like the air we breathed; with out the other, we would die.

I had never felt sicker in my life. This was like a bad Etch-a-Sketch doodle that you couldn't erase, couldn't shake it up and make it all go away.

"I have never brought anyone back to life before," I told Christian. It had been like this for the past twenty minutes, and he still was hesitant to believe me—he didn't want to believe me. Hey, I didn't want to believe myself either. But it was a cold hard fact, and we needed to accept it, swallow all of our doubts and embrace the future of our destiny.

"It was my first time," I explained, sitting down on my bed. The comforter was a mix of citron and fuscia silk; my two favorite colors in the entire world. "I have been working on my powers for years, and have become increasingly stronger as the time had past, but I have never done a spell that strong before. I've only healed things, never brought anything back to life. Not even something so small as an animal."

"So I was your experimental guinea pig?" he asked. "You just figured, 'Hey, what the hell? Why not give it a shot?'"

I narrowed my eyes at him. I like to think of myself as a patient person, but my tolerance with him was wearing very, very thin. Did he believe I was anymore happy about the situation that had been unexpectedly thrown on us than he was? No. I hated it just as much, if not more.

"You were dead, you dumbass." The curse word rolled off my tongue weirdly. I never uttered a bad word. When I was a child my mother had always told me a pretty woman doesn't have a nasty mouth. I'd followed that rule diligently throughout my long life, but the man in front of me was seriously pushing my buttons. I was so done with being nice and polite.

"What did you have to lose?" I demanded reasonably. "That's right. Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch. My fate, on the other hand, was a different story. I was doing something I had never done before, sacrificing everything, including my very own life for you. Nobody knew what was going to happen to me. Rose begged me not to go through with it, for fear of me going insane like my mother did, but I did it anyways. You want to know why?"

I didn't wait for him to answer.

"Because you didn't deserve to die the way you did, so abruptly. You deserved another chance at life, and I gave you just that. You can stay mad at me all you want, deny what we now share, but no matter what you say, no matter what you do to me, I do not my regret decision. If I could go back into time, I wouldn't change a damn thing."

And with that being said, I raised my chin and held my head up proudly. I was no longer afraid when I looked into his smoky gaze, but rather, proud of myself for what I did. The emotions I saw flashing in his eyes shocked every fiber of my being. Admiration. Amazement. Devotion. And the most powerful of all: Respect.

Christian walked over and my body immediately went rigid, still exceedingly uncomfortable in his close proximity.

"I will not harm you, Sunshine. You have my word. There is no reason to be afraid of me."

Maybe it was the softness of his unusually deep voice, or the seemingly sincere note to it, or maybe the vulnerable expression on his cruelly handsome face, but I found myself believing what he said. Trusting him, even. Which was so incredibly stupid of me. But that was how I felt. I couldn't change that, nor did I want to.

He leaned down in front of me, scooted slightly in between my knees, and grabbed both of my hands in his large warms. His skin was hot, soft, and rough from centuries of fighting.

"You are a commendable woman, worthy of so much praise for what you did for me. And I apologize that it took me so long to realize the gift that you have granted me." Christian paused, as if racking his brain for the right words. "I'm not going to thank you, for those words do not describe the magnitude of which I feel. All I can say, Lissa, is that I owe my life to you."

Blood tears welled in my eyes and matted my eyelashes. I couldn't help it. I'm a very emotional woman. I nodded my head wildly, unable to speak with the burning lump in my throat.

Christian bent forward slowly, hesitantly, and kissed one of my tears away. It glistened crimson on his full, sensual mouth when he pulled back and met my glossy gaze. "So, how does this whole bond thing work, Sunshine?"

It took me a few moments to gather myself and when I spoke my voice was raw and scratchy, like I'd swallowed a bucket of sand. "I am not entirely sure," I said. "It's more of a learn-as-you-go process. My mother and her bond-mate were together for several decades before disaster got the best of them, and from what I am aware, their golden years had never been solidly set. And what I mean by that is they were always adjusting to one another's abilities, always learning to adapt to new ones. When they'd believed they knew everything about their bond and the gifts it harvests, it would change. They never got used to the bond, is what I mean. Jesus, I am repeating myself, aren't I?"

"Yeah, but I love to watch the way your mouth moves when you talk, so I do not mind."

My cheeks warm.

"When did you realize we were bonded?" he asked.

"I studied your aura," When his eyes widened, I said, "Yes, I can study aura's. I have many spirtual abilities. Anyways…I knew the moment I saw your aura we were bonded. You have a rim of gold around your colors, just the faintest glow, but it's there, and will grow brighter and sturdier the longer you are around me."

Christian stared at me, eyes fixed on my face, and I had never felt so heard before. Had never had someone listened so intently, like they really cared about the words that came from my mouth. It felt nice, that was all.

"Gold is the color of spirit, of vitality and life and spirituality. And as far as I am concerned, we are the only two people on earth who carry the color within our souls."

"Which makes us very, very special."

I shot him a dry look. "It's not a joke."

Christian held his hands up in surrender, and I found myself smiling.

"Boy," I let my body fall back and land on the softness of my bed, suddenly feeling exhausted and a tad bit overwhelmed. "This is going to take some getting used to."

The bed bounced as he dove in beside me. "I'm cool with that."

I turned my head to the side, stared at his beautifully chiseled face. "You are?"

"Yep," Christian's eyes remained on the ceiling, studying the mural of Cinderella and her carriage Meredith had painted last Christmas for me. The girl was an artistic genius, and she knew my love of fairytales and princesses. "It's not as if we have a choice. There's no getting out of our situation. So what other choice do we have other an to accept it? Besides…" he shrugged. "If I want to, I can creep into your mind and get a peak of you in the shower everyday. What could possibly be better than that little benefit?"

I rolled my eyes and snorted. Great. Now I was going to have change and wash myself with the lights off.

Pavel POV:

I watched her from afar, unreservedly mesmerized by the beauty she held, both inside and out. That long wild raven hair cascaded down her back like a cape, landing just above her full bottom, accentuating her tiny waist. And those eyes. They were magnificent, unlike anything I'd ever seen before. A brilliant shade of blue, enormous and innocent on her classic-boned face. A man could drown in them. Stare into them for the rest of eternity.

The instant Tasha stood up from the dining room chair, I knew I had to do something. I wasn't sure what. But I simply was unable to leave things as they were. For some unknown reason, I felt a burning, all consuming need to explain myself to her, to tell her why I'd done what I had to her.

Jesus. I was such a fucking sick bastard.

I followed her down a narrow corridor and up a flight of stairs at a generous distance. I was careful to be silent, not wanting to alarm or alert her. She entered her living quarters, and I had a brief glimpse of the inside. In spite of myself, I felt a curious warmth fill me, the smallest flicker of amusement.

Tasha certainly loved unicorns. Her room was covered in them, from the duvet on her bed, to the lamps on her white carved nightstand and the snow globes and figurines placed orderly on the pink shelves flocking her canopied bed.

I would have to get her one. But where did one get a unicorn? Maybe she would like a pony, or a white horse. No. That was too much. Or was it not enough? I had no clue. Maybe I could carve her one, build it from my own bare hands. Yes. She would like that. The gift would hold more meaning and value if I made it myself.

But what if she didn't want anything that I had put my hands on? It wasn't as if I could blame her. Not after what I had done to her last night.

My hunger rose as I approached the door of her living quarters, the heady scent of lilac and gardenia drifting from her skin and room filling my nostrils. I inhaled deeply, drawing her into my lungs, my body.

Reaching out, I curled my fingers around the baby-blue door knob, twisted, and gave a gentle push, revealing a thousand unicorns, big and small, and Tasha at her closet, pulling a yellow sweater over her head. Unsurprisingly, there was a cartoon unicorn designed on the front. The mystical animal was smiling cheerfully, its purple eyes sparkling. A long stream of rainbow hair went all the way up the front of the sweater and twirled its colorful self around her left arm.

"Tasha," I said, her name coming out of my mouth harsher and louder than I'd intended.

Her head snapped up, and the instant she laid eyes on me, she screamed. In a flash, I was in front of her, sliding one arm around her waist and clamping my hand over her mouth. "Shhh." I hissed. "I won't hurt you."

This only seemed to terrify her more. Tears gathered on her dark lashes, gleaming like rubies under the dim glow of the—surprise, surprise—unicorn nightlight plugged into the outlet beside her bed.

Her tiny body began to struggle in the inescapable prison of my arms, and I had no clue what to do. On one had, I wanted to comfort her, show her that I would never hurt her again, even if ordered by my lord, Dimitri. On the other, she was beginning to enrage and annoy me with her thrashing. Why was she unable to understand that I wasn't going to cause her harm! If I had desired to, I would have already.

"Listen to me," I whispered. "If you don't scream, I will let you go. Nod once if you understand."

Tasha nodded.

The second I released my hold on her, she screamed as loud as her lungs would allow without exploding. I lunged for her when she tried to run out of the room, and managed to catch her just a few feet past the door.

I dragged Tasha back screaming and kicking into her living quarters, kicked the door shut with my boot, and roughly pulled her to her feet by her slender shoulders. Teeth sunk into my skin when I tried to push my palm against her mouth.

"Shut the fuck up!" I growled, violently shaking her.

Tasha whimpered and went rigid in my arms, so terrified that she went into a paralyzed state. "P-p-p…please don't hurt me."

Something in my chest ached. "I will not hurt you, woman." I said softly, not liking how I felt when I was around her—vulnerable, defenseless in her presence. Emotions flooded my body and brain, the feeling of them so heavy, so human, so unbelievably foreign. I hated it, feeling overwhelmed, like a tiger trapped in a cage, away from its home, its love; the wild. The wild was so much easier, tolerable, unlike being in this room with Tasha. Trapped. Caged. Cornered. My freedom taken away.

"W-w-why are you doing this to me?" Tasha's chin quivered uncontrollably. "What did I do to deserve this? My leader agreed to help your people, and we are. I'm doing everything that is asked of me. Why?...Why you?"

I stared at her, silent. "I will leave you alone," I told her.

"I don't believe you,"

"Look at me." I growled, a command, not a request. She'd turned her head to the side, refusing to make eye contact.

"Look at me, Tasha. Look at me."

The vampire obeyed, in fear of what I would do to her if she didn't listen. Shame filled every bone of my body, making me feel two inches tall. I reached out slowly, ran my finger along her fragile jaw. She flinched and whimpered at the contact, and I ripped my hand back.

"I, uh, I am sorry." It took great effort on my part to get those words out of me, most likely because I had never apologized before in my entire life. And I'd been on the earth for a significant amount of time. "Truly, I am. Very, very sorry. Sorry for what happened to you last night. Sorry that I caused you agony and scared you. You should never be scared in your own home, and I took that simple thing away from you when I had absolutely no right…so, yeah, um. I'm really sorry. I wish I could go back and change it, but I can't."

Last night I had been ordered by Dimitri to scare and panic Tasha into submission, merely for shock value so the leader of the Guardians would have no choice but to surrender and agree to aid us in the war against the Strigoi. There had been no command to go all the way through the act with Tasha, and I wouldn't have if I'd been told to, even if it meant betraying my lord. That wasn't something I would force on a woman, and I was surprised and a bit disgusted by how good of an act I had pulled last night. Everyone had believed I was going through with it, including Dimitri, which is why he sharply ordered me to get off of the woman.

"I won't touch you ever again," I said. "Please, I beg of you, do not be afraid of me. I will not go near you, talk to you, or bother you. So do not worry, as I am no longer a problem of yours."

I studied at her striking face a moment longer, memorizing every one of her delicate features and implanting them into my brain, because I knew I would never again look her straight in the face. I refused to put her through that kind of anguish again. Then I turned on my heel, walked out of Tasha's room, and quietly shut the door behind me.

Rose POV:

"You mind not eating all of the food in my fridge?" I asked, annoyed. "You two have nearly cleared it out."

"Not a chance," Eddie mumbled around a mouthful of bacon and scrambled eggs. "I need meat in the morning or else I turn into a beast."

"What he said." Adrian said, chugging OJ straight from the carton.

Meet Eddie Castile and Adrian Ivashkov. Both third-generation vampires born in Romania during the early 1700's. Abandoned by their mothers at birth and left to die, they had miraculously been discovered by a poor old lady walking to her home. The two had grown up together at the orphanage, become inseparable best friends, and the rest was history.

Mia joined us in the kitchen, bright as a star. She wore a pink jump-suit that fit her like a second skin, a lacy yellow tank-top underneath, and pretty glittery silver sneakers. A pair of beautiful pearls hung on her ears and wrapped around her slender throat.

The instant Eddie laid his eyes on her he nearly choked on his mouthful of breakfast.

Mia shot the two with the full force of her murderous glare, silencing the snickers of male amusement.

"Hey, Ms. Rainbow. I don't believe we've been properly introduced. My name is Eddie Castile."

Mia eyed his outstretched hand with unconcealed disgust, deliberately sidestepped it, and went over to the fridge to retrieve a chilled water bottle. "Yes, I believe I remember you. How could I forget the way your fist felt a split second before I was knocked out cold?" she slammed the door shut with her hip, crystal blue eyes full of attitude. "And the name's Mia. Call me Ms. Rainbow again and I won't be responsible for what happens to you."

And with that little warning being declared, Mia left the room. I couldn't help but laugh loudly. I absolutely adored the woman. I had ever since that day I met her in a Couture store in the late fifties. She had more fire in her soul and heart than anyone I had ever met and didn't take shit from anyone, especially not a broodingly handsome man like Eddie Castile. She was the ideal second in command.

Eddie smiled, face full of amusement and bewilderment. "I like her."

"You like a lot of chicks, brother." was Adrian's genius response. I gulped audibly. His voice did things to my body that I didn't care to mention. It was like hot silk wrapping around my skin, trapping me. It didn't help that he had a thick Romanian accent either.

These training sessions were going to be brutal. I knew it in my gut. I was already feeling sexually frustrated. Where was Mason when I needed him? God, that sounded so bad, but I didn't really give two shits.

"Yeah, I know," Eddie said in amazement, staring down the hallway Mia had just disappeared through. "But I really like her. Really, really like her..."

"Are all of you ready?" Dimitri appeared out of nowhere. He tended to do that a lot. And it was creepy as hell.

"Of course. Just let me get Tasha real quick." I sensed Mia, Sydney, Meredith, and Lissa in the living room, watching—ugh—Keeping up with the Kardashians. Those chicks were obsessed with mindless reality TV. I would have canceled cable by now but it was the only thing that kept the hyenas at bay, so I guess I was stuck with it.

"So what you are implying is that you aren't ready." Dimitri said dryly. "Wonderful."

I promptly gave him two birds. "You're lucky I'm helping you at all."

To my absolute fury, his lips curved and he bared his teeth. It wasn't a smile at all. More of a scowl, and I was almost—almost—intimidated by the icy gesture. Not many things put me on edge, but Dimitri Belikov was one of them. I trusted him about as much as one trusted a hungry tiger when they were trapped in the cage with the wild animal.

"No, Ms. Hathaway." the Master vampire said coolly. "You're the lucky one here."

I was about to ask him why in hell he thought that, when my hearing picked up on a very soft sob and a sniffle, followed by heavy boots echoing on the stairs. It was Tasha. In her room. It only took me half a second to get there, and when I did, I didn't bother with knocking, just threw the door wide open. Light from the hallway spilled in and filled the expanse of the room.

My breath caught at the sight before me.

Tasha was crouched in the corner, arms locked around her knees, rocking herself back and forth as she quietly cried. She whimpered in fear at the sound of the door being slammed against the wall and looked up. Blood tears streaked her cheeks, throat, and hands.

"That bastard!" I whispered hoarsely, then charged the man who was responsible. Pavel was outside, pacing restlessly in front of the porch, murmuring what sounded like prayers in his native tongue as he took puff after puff of a delicious, rich smelling cigar.

"Rose!" I heard a distant cry, but I was too far gone to stop now. Pissing me off was not something you wanted to do. But when you messed with the Guardians, my only family I had left, that was taking it to a whole other level you would regret taking it to. I protected my team like a mama bear protects her cubs—with her life.

"Hey, dickhead. What did you do to her?" I braced one hand on the wood railing of the patio and hopped over to the other side with one great surge. Then I exploded. "What the fuck did you do to her?"

I started to swing, too angry to realize what I was even doing. All I knew was that I was causing him seriously bodily harm, and that was all that mattered.

"You touch her?" I tackled him Pavel's big, hard body to the ground and laid lethal blow after lethal blow to his flawlessly masculine face. "Huh? You like touching her, don't you? You sick fuck!"

Something warm splattered my face and chest, and I realized that it was his blood. Covering me. Getting all over my skin. In my mouth and eyes and ears.

Pavel just lied there on the crimson soaked dirt, staring up at me with earnest glowing gold eyes, taking my wrath, not bothering with fighting back.

Something strong and heavy wrapped around my waist and hauled me off the male vampire.

I growled and continued to fight, swiping and clawing at thin air. "Let me go!" was the last pathetic scream I got out before the iron arms locked around my waist squeezed, cutting off my oxygen supply.

"Rose! Rose! Honey!" Tasha appeared before me and grabbed my face. "Don't look at him, focus on me. Rose! I'm fine. Okay? Everything is fine. Chill out, honey."

She had to talk to me a while before I was able to come back to reality and actually have some control over my body, though I was still wanted to rip Pavel's head off for whatever he'd done to her.

"Can I trust you not to do anything stupid when I release you?" Dimitri asked. Oh. So he'd been the one holding me. No wonder it had been impossible to get away. Goddamn. He smelled good, crisp, minty, inviting.

I focused on the scent, mesmerized, engraved it forever on my brain, and nodded my head. "Yes." I managed to choke out. His bruising grip was crushing my chest, making my lungs ache in protest.

The Master vampire released me then, either trusting me not to lose it again or confident that if I did, he would be able to catch me before I took two steps. I had a feeling it was the latter. Dimitri radiated that kind of arrogance that made you want to sock him in the face and then fuck his brains out. He was all male; there was no doubt about that. His body was huge, powerfully built, and his face was insanely beautiful with his astonishingly chiseled features, cruel, sensual mouth, and endless dark eyes.

Every time I was in his presence, I got the chills from my head all the way to my toes. And it had nothing to do with the temperature. Believe me—blistering waves of heat came off his bronzed skin, hot as fire, scorching my flesh. It was the most exhilarating feeling, and I absolutely resented my weakness.

I stared down at Pavel's battered face, glad that I'd done what damage I could while I'd had the chance. "If you ever think about touching her again…" I lowered my voice until it was a deadly whisper. "I will end you."

Dramatic much? Maybe. But it was the God's honest truth. And Pavel knew that.

After a few heavy movements, he gave a slow nod of his head. "I understand."

For some stupid reason, I believed training with six male, multiple generation, hot-ass-hell vampires was going to be nothing but fun—I mean, come on, with all that fresh male sweat, shirtless bodies, and the working-out aspect, what could be…well, funner?

My expectations couldn't have been more wrong.

The training was hell on earth times ten.

"How many miles can you run without winded getting winded?" Dimitri asked, standing in front of me with his arms crossed over his chest. I tried to ignore the bulging biceps.

If a man knows you're too into him, he turns into a cocky bastard and will stomp all over you like a doormat, was Mia's genius motto, Play hard to get. Make him work for it. That's what a true lady does.

"Forty. Easily." I said, unconsciously mimicking his stance.

"Hmm." he said with clear disapproval. "That's defiantly not good enough. I'll need you all,"—he swept his eyes over my team—"to be up to a hundred."

"A hundred?" We all exclaimed in unison, the incredulous sound that followed was a gush or air, like each of the Guardians had been slammed in the gut with a aluminum bat.

"By the end of the week," The Master vampire finished, mouth twitching.

There were screams of horrors then, but he chose to ignore them.

After our warm up stretches, we had been put into teams and Dimitri set me with—drum roll please—himself. We were in pairs because, according to him, each of us needed one-on-one training, a mentor to push us in the right direction. Someone to shove us when we felt like quiting. Motivators, basically.

The other pairs had gone like this: Lissa and Christian. Sydney and Adrian. Tasha and Ivan. Meredith and Pavel. And Mia and Eddie. And yes, if you're wondering, Mia did manage to punch Eddie in the face twice within five minutes of their training session. Not that it came as a surprise. The woman had the worst temper and Eddie seemed just the type to push her buttons.

Seven hours—yes, seven!—later, we'd somehow managed to drag ourselves back to the penthouse and inside. Most headed for the freezer right away in a desperate search for a blood bag. I needed one stat, too. But first…

"My windows are fixed," I said happily. "You fixed my windows."

Dimitri gave that careless, elegant shrug of his. "I ruined them. It is only natural that I fix them, Ms. Hathaway."

"Call me Rose." I said in a half attempt to be polite and civil with him. I'd done nothing but curse him out during the whole one-on-one training session.

"I don't think so."

I glared at him. "Fine. I'll just call you Master then. You happy with that?"

When he chuckled and shot me a playful look, I huffed and clenched my fists at my sides. I had meant it to be an insult, but I realized that Dimitri would indeed enjoy hearing me address him as "Master." The man had serious power trip problems; there was no need for me to feed his problem.

"Never mind." I turned around and headed for the freezer. As I drank, I felt the life return to my body, the agonizing muscle tears weaving back together, the twist in my ankle heal, the swelling gone. I still hurt like hell, but it was bearable now. And by the morning, I would be back to full health and feeling like myself again.

Just as I placed my empty glass in the sink, I heard Lissa come into the room. I glanced over my shoulder, feeling like I was spying. Dimitri approached Lissa, spoke in a hushed tone. When she smiled, he leaned down, looked into her eyes, and laid a hand on her shoulder.

Something in me clicked, twisted. The feeling utterly unfamiliar and equally uncomfortable. I pushed it aside, locking it up with my other absurd human emotions.

My best friends slender pale hand reached up, wrapped around his tanned wrist, and she gave a strong squeeze and nodded her hand. I had a feeling he had just expressed his gratitude for what she'd done for his brother Christian.

When he bent to whisper something in her ear, I turned and headed up the stairs for a scalding hot shower, not wanting to intrude on their private conversation anymore than I had.

I cried out loudly once more, rolling off Mason's naked body and sprawling out like a lazy cat. My body was in bliss once again, as satisfied as I could possibly get with a human.

Mason turned on his side, propping up his head on his elbow. He studied every inch of my face for several moments, and I hated the love and attachment sparkling in his sky-blue eyes. I hated myself for making him feel that way for me. I would never carry the same emotions for him as he did for me. He was in love with me. He enjoyed my company. Made me laugh and feel beautiful.

I only used him for sex.

When he leaned over to kiss me I subtly turned my head and pretended not to notice. That didn't stop him from mounting me and attaching his mouth to my neck, kissing and licking and nibbling.

My back arched and I placed my hands on his back, feeling the smooth muscles flex and loosen as he moved with me in delicious, savoring waves.

"Faster…" I gasped. I wanted sex. He wanted to make love. "Faster, Mase. Harder…oh, yeah. That's it."

"Rose…please." Mason lifted his head from the crook of my neck and stared into my eyes. "Please."

I shouldn't have done what I had next. It was dangerous. Risky. Unpredictable. And there was the slightest possibility Mason could die. But all my inhibitions were gone and my ecstasy fogged mind took over.

I turned my head to the side, offering myself to him. With heartbreaking gentleness, Mason pushed my thick, wild hair aside, placed a soft kiss to my throat, and sunk his blunt, human teeth into my skin.

I groaned in mind-blowing pleasure at the burst of pain and my grip on him tightened, my nails raking down his back. He began to feed deep, drinking greedily, making little sucking noises that brought me to the brink of pleasure. Moments later we shattered together, our screams untamed and thunderous.

I knew the instant my blood affected Mason, because everything in him changed. He was stronger, possessive, more feral and animalistic. The pulls at my neck became more urgent and desperate, and he drove into my body like his was trying to put a stamp on it.

"Mase…" I protested, planting my palms on his chest and giving a gentle push.

He growled at the interruption, slid his arms under my shoulder blades, bringing me closer to his mouth.

"Oh, no you don't." I shoved against his chest, flipped him over, tearing him away from my vein.

Mason fought me, snarling in full animal mode, desperately trying to get back to my bleeding neck. I continued to talk to him in a soothing voice, having the slightest struggle with holding down his bucking body. The affect of my blood in him was temporarily, merely a rush, the same any human would get from a good high. The feeling would fade in a few hours, growing weaker and weaker as the minutes passed by.

Mason stared up at me with amazement, the biggest grin on his cute face. "That was…stupendous."

I laughed and rolled over again. "Yeah, you didn't do too bad tonight."

"I didn't know I was being judged, Hathaway." Mason's smile was contagious. His fingers slid up my stomach, across the heavy swell of my left breast, brushed feathery light over my puckered nipple.

I gasped, and his face was full of male appreciation and smug satisfaction.

"Yeah…" he murmured. "If I can make a woman like you make a sound like that, I know I am the shit."

We were laughing and exchanging our good old fashioned playful banter when a loud rap sounded at the door.

"Go away!"

Mason gave me a loving kiss before he wrapped a sheet around his naked hips and stood up. "Don't fret, woman." he said airily. "I will be back secondarily."

I launched a pillow at him. "I only need to borrow your dick for a few minutes. Or your mouth."

He winked, unfazed. "Shhh, little one. Stop talking such nonsense. I told you I will be back and equipped to serve your heart and body's needs and wants."

"Asshole." I muttered. He knew how much I hated that nickname. "Make sure you send them away! I don't feel like dealing with anyone right now."

Mason opened the door and spoke with the person out in the hallway. His hard tone surprised me. Mason was nothing but friendliness and happiness wrapped up in a red-headed package.

"Someone wants to talk with you." Mason stalked back in the room, face pinched tight with fury.

"Huh? Oh, God!" I scrambled to cover myself when Dimitri came in, but it was too late, he'd already gotten a pretty good look at the goods.

If the Master vampire appreciated what he saw, he didn't let it show. His face was the perfect picture of control, a blank, emotionless mask.

"I assumed it would take you longer to revover for these kind of activities. But clearly, I was mistaken. You waste no time in jumping back on the wagon, Ms. Hathaway. Literally."

With the tone he was using, he might as well have called me a whore.

"Why are you still here?" I demanded, sitting up and clutching the blanket to my chest. "I thought I told you to leave."

A muscle jumped in his tight jaw. "We were. But I thought I should inform you that while I was heading to my vehicle, Ivan sensed a presence near your front gates."

My eyes bulged. "A Strigoi?"

"That is the conclusion I came to, yes." Dimitri said.