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seemed to help as well. Maybe just being away from that cell.”
    She glanced down her arm once more, then back to him. “So what’s it like? Feeding, I mean.”
    His brows rose. “I don’t know. Like breathing, I suppose. It’s just part of my life.”
    “Of course it would be.” She stared at him for a long moment, wondering so many things. She took in his new wardrobe. “You found some clothes, I see.”
    He gestured with a toss of his hand toward the wall at the foot of the bed, where a tall rack sat. “Rumy had clothes for both of us brought in.”
    When she’d initially arrived two days earlier, Rumy had given her a few basic garments in addition to the clothes she’d had on. It looked as though he’d since added to her wardrobe. “I can see that.”
    She glanced around and for the first time noticed the bed was a little different: The far side had what looked like a low steel bar running its length with some kind of cloth attached to it.
    She pushed herself to a sitting position. “What is that?”
    “Restraints. Though I’ll be stable for a while, maybe even a few hours, the recovery from blood-madness takes time, and I’ll probably spiral out of control at some point. The bindings will be necessary at least once during the process. But Rumy told you this, right, or some version of it?”
    “Sort of. I think he didn’t want to weigh me down with too many details.”
    He glanced at her. “So your name is Claire. What did you do before you were abducted? I mean, who are you? Where did you come from?”
    “Santa Fe in New Mexico. Do you know it?”
    “Sure. What was your life like there?”
    “Well, my family has lived in the area for three generations. I had my own place, of course, but my mom and dad were only a couple of miles from my apartment. My brothers are eighteen and twenty-one now. When Rumy brought me here I went on the Internet and found that they’re all doing well. Both the boys are in college.” She repressed a sigh. She didn’t mind sharing the details, but the conversation was reminding her way too much of her family and how much she missed them. She couldn’t imagine how hard her sudden disappearance had been on everyone.
    Lucian watched her closely. “And what about your friend, Zoey, were you always close?”
    She chuckled, though her throat had started to ache. “More like sisters. We grew up together. Lived on the same street. We even roomed in college. But we’re so different, I mean even physically, she’s shorter and has black hair, blue eyes. And she has a totally wicked sense of humor. She had really long fingernails though, with jewels on them.” When tears touched her eyes, she cleared her throat and changed the subject. “She majored in economics and worked for an investment firm.”
    “And you?”
    “I have a master’s in social work. Before being taken out of that club in Santa Fe, I worked with ex-prostitutes, not an easy job.”
    He frowned. “I’m sure it wouldn’t be.”
    She found it a lot easier to talk about her work rather than either her family or Zoey.
    She added, “Prostitution is rarely a first choice for these women. Most of them suffered horrendous childhoods before they entered the profession, so trying to extract them from that kind of work involved treating two layers of dysfunction at the same time.”
    “We have a similar problem in our world, especially working with the sex slaves we recover. There’s always a lot of damage.”
    She watched his gaze slide to the floor and his jaw flex a couple of times. “What are you thinking about?—because the chains tell me you’re really upset. Of course, I can see it as well. What’s wrong?”
    He met her gaze. “I’m thinking about your friend Zoey and my brothers, what we’ve all been through, including you. Daniel is the author of all this suffering, and I want him dead. You wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for Daniel—and then there’s Marius.” He shaded his face for