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absolute vision. Bellini had placed her in
    the garden outside of Velkan's residence—a garden that was now a gnarled, unsightly mess
    from lack of care. She'd been fidgeting unmercifully until she'd spied Velkan sitting on the
    wall, watching her.
    Their eyes had met and had held, and the shyest, most beautiful smile that ever graced a
    woman's face had been captured by the artist. It was a look that could still bring Velkan to
    his knees.
    Snarling at the picture, he forced himself to walk onward, away from it. He should have
    burned it centuries ago. He still wasn't sure why he hadn't.
    In fact, he could send a blast to it even now and burst it into flames…
    His hand heated up in expectation. But he balled it into a fist as he left his room, then
    descended the stairs to the first floor, where Bram and Stoker waited for his return. Calling
    out to his Tibetan mastiffs, he made his way to his study, where his fire had all but gone out.
    He shot a blast of fire into it, making it roar to life. It bathed the room in a dull orange light
    and caused the shadows to dance eerily along the cold stone walls. He petted his dogs as
    they welcomed him home with joyful barks and licks. Then they bounded off to retake their
    seats beside his padded chair. Sighing, Velkan took his seat so that he could stare into the
    fire that did nothing to warm him. The light was painful for his eyes, but honestly he didn't
    care.
    He glanced over at the dogs on each side of him. "Be glad that you're both neutered. Would
    that I had been so fortunate." Because right then, his body was hard and aching for the one
    woman who would never again submit to his touch.
    His anger mounting, he took another swig only to curse over the fact that the alcohol couldn't
    do anything to him. As a Dark-Hunter he could never get drunk. There was no escape from
    this pain.
    Growling, he threw the bottle into the hearth, where it shattered into a thousand pieces. The
    flames sparked in greedy consumption of the alcohol. The dogs lifted their heads in curiosity
    while Velkan raked his hand through his hair.
    As bad as it had been before, it was so much worse now knowing that she was only a short
    distance away. Her scent still hung in his nostrils, making him even more feral than he'd
    been before.
    You should go to her and force her to take you back.
    That was what the Moldavian warlord Velkan Danesti would have done. He'd have never
    allowed a slip of a woman to lead him about.
    But that man had died the night an innocent young woman had looked up at him with eyes
    so blue, so trusting, they had instantly stolen his heart. Perhaps this was his punishment for
     
    having lived such a brutal human life. To want the one thing he couldn't have. Esperetta's
    peaceful, soft touch.
    Restless with his thoughts, he rose to his feet. Bram rose as well until he realized that
    Velkan was only going to pace the room. The dog settled back down while Velkan did his
    best to banish his memories.
    But unfortunately, there was no way to cleave his heart from his chest and until he did that he
    knew he would never escape the prison his wife had condemned him to.
    Retta came awake to a stinging headache and found herself tied to an iron chair. The room,
    which was industrial, like an old warehouse or something, was dark and damp, with an awful
    stench that was similar to that of a pair of old gym socks mixed with the smell of rotten eggs.
    It was all she could do to breathe past the stench as she tried to wrest her wrists free of the
    ropes that held her down.
    She could hear faint voices from an adjoining room…
    She strained to hear them, but all she caught was a faint whisper until a loud roar rang out,
    "Death to the Danestis !"
    Great chant, especially since she was technically one of them. Granted, she didn't want to
    claim kinship, but on paper…
    "She's awake."
    Retta turned her head to see a tall, gaunt man in the doorway. Dressed in black slacks and
    a turtleneck, he reminded