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be a victim the second time around.” The cut on her abdomen throbbed.
    Dylan lifted her carefully by the elbows until she stood. He rested her against the wall, steadying her. His intense stare made her uncomfortable but she wouldn’t look away.
    She inhaled as he ran the pad of his thumb over her lips, wiping away the blood.
    “Hate. Rage. Passion. All these emotions are what make you like me. The darkness you seek is a mixture of emotions—pain, hate, fear, passion. It’s not some mythical creature inside our bodies. We aren’t possessed by a demon. The darkness is the primitive side of your personality that you keep locked away.” He pushed a stay strand of hair behind her ear. “Even passion, true passion, not petty fumbling or a quick fuck, comes from the darker side of your soul.”
    Blood thundered in her ears. Her heart pounded. Tentatively, she reached up and fingered his crow’s feet. He didn’t stop her. She traced the bone, the tender creases of his lids. When she smiled, he frowned.
    “What?”
    “The devil in the dark they all fear is nothing more than a fallen angel with a hole in his soul.” She moved lower, tracing the velvet pillow of his lips with her thumb. “Holes can be repaired.”
    He gripped her wrists, jerking her away. “I lost my soul a long time ago.”
    A sense of weakness hit her. Her knees buckled.
    Then Dylan was kissing her. His lips grazed hers. Her eyelids fluttered shut. When she opened to his caress and his tongue met hers, a surge of energy bolted through her.
    His essence poured into her body. She knew him completely. More completely than she knew herself. She tilted her head to the side. She needed to take more of him, to taste more. His taste was liquid fire in her blood.
    Dylan pulled away, leaving her gasping and hot. She moaned, opened her eyes to meet his.
    What she saw there—recognition, confusion—made her press her fingertips to her swollen lips. “You felt it too?”
    Instead of answering, he kissed her again. Harsher. Deeper. More passionately. He fisted her hair as his tongue dueled with hers.
    Somewhere there waiteth in this world of ours, for one lone soul another lonely soul… The poem sprang into her mind as she kissed Dylan, the words resounding in her head. Strange that such a poem should appear now, when she felt so consumed, when fire lit her blood. When she could feel his heart beat against hers, when she could feel his thoughts in her mind.
    She opened her eyes and screamed.
    * * * * *
     
    Dr. Enrico Ramierez stood over Mia’s unconscious form. He smoothed back her hair. He’d tried to stop her from going into the VR with Dylan but she’d been so confident. He remembered the haughty look as he’d pleaded with her not to go.
    He touched her shoulder, gaining her attention. She looked up at him from her seated position on the gurney. “Mia, did…was what he said true? About being a slave?”
    Her pout faltered slightly before the mask slid back into place. “Does it matter?”
    “Yes! Of course it matters. It’s horrific.”
    “It’s the past.”
    Paralyzed by fear and shock, he said, “You can’t go.” He wouldn’t let her experience any more trauma in her life.
    “Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t stop me.”
    “Please. He knows too much about you. It could be dangerous,” he pleaded with her.
    “I’m going. If you won’t put me under, I’ll find someone who will. Trust me, Enrico.”
    “Be careful.”
    If she got injured in the VR, it would translate into the real world. And he’d sent her into the virtual world.
    Then her vitals starting spiking. Wounds appeared on her body. They couldn’t stop the bleeding. This had never happened before. He couldn’t pull her out. He’d tried the override code. Dylan must have found a way to block the failsafe.
    Something had gone horribly wrong.
    She needed blood. She was a rare type. Very rare. They’d needed an exact type and cross-match, otherwise it could kill her.
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