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no effect at all. She simply looked at him.
    Victor stepped closer, still moving slowly. Ryan stared at him, no recognition in her eyes whatsoever. A slight smile played about her lips and there was a wicked glint in her eye. It was difficult for Victor to suppress his own predatory response because he knew exactly what she was doing, even if she did not. He braced himself.
    She sprang at him and even though he anticipated the move and knew how preternaturally fast she was, he was still knocked from his feet. He rolled as she dove at him, coming to his feet as she recklessly went head-first into a tree. The tree split upon impact, cracking loudly, half crashing to the ground and half remaining upright at an uncertain angle. Victor took that opportunity to tackle her, pinning her to another tree, but his grip was awkward and she flung him to the side, laughing.
    He came after her again and she launched a flurry of strikes at him, ending with a kick to his midsection that sent him flying across the clearing. As she stalked toward him, he let loose his own kick which sent her staggering in the opposite direction, causing her to laugh some more. It seemed her mirth was having a more debilitating effect than his blows, but Victor did not care. He would press any advantage he had. He again tackled her around the shoulders, shoving her backward into a tree. This time his grip was sure and he pinned her with his enormous strength.
    She struggled for a moment, face-to-face with him, then relaxed. She appeared more entertained by her predicament than concerned. Victor stared at his dangerously rambunctious child, torn. It had been his intent simply to bring her home safely, but her violent antics had so incited his blood lust it was all he could do not to tear into her neck and drink her dry. Any warnings Dr. Ryerson had passed on were ephemeral memories.
    The girl examined the man’s handsome features, the sharp cheekbones, the sensual mouth, the brooding dark eyes that were filled with a myriad of emotions. Her eyes drifted downward to the vein throbbing in his neck, but her gaze jerked further downward to a spot of red on his collarbone. It was a small cut, just a nick really, seeping just a tiny amount of blood.
    The girl raised her eyes to his once more and Victor felt a sense of deep foreboding. Impossibly, he felt himself slowly and inexorably lifted off his feet. And Ryan was doing so effortlessly with a strength he had never felt in anyone. Rather than bend down to adjust her position, she was casually moving him into the position she wanted. She raised him just enough so that the wound was on level with her mouth, then pulled him forward with the same slow inevitability. Victor watched with a mixture of fascination and despair, impotence and desire.
    Her lips burned on the wound, but if the effect on Victor was profound it was more so on Ryan. The second the blood touched her lips, her head shot backward, striking the tree behind her with great force. Her eyes rolled upward, then returned, unfocused. She released him and he landed on his feet, grasping her as she collapsed. He lifted her into his arms as she went limp and unconscious.
    Victor stared down at his daughter, the heat from her body emanating off in infrared waves that he could see. In seconds, she had gone from that monstrously powerful creature to this feverish child lost in a delirious sleep. It was almost as if she was two different people.
    He sighed, starting for home. He had the feeling this was going to get much, much worse.
     
    Lia was awakened by someone shaking her shoulder. She recognized the man, the one with the scar that had leered at her and committed the unspeakable acts.
    “Get up,” he said roughly.
    Lia was stunned. During her entire captivity, not one of the demons had ever spoken a word that she understood. And now this one was speaking to her clearly in her own language.
    “Get up!” he repeated angrily, dragging her upright.
    Lia stood,