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stuffed into its tiny rooms and narrow halls.
     Sunlight sparkled at the windows, made of some sort of treated glass. Ancient vampires can stand sunlight though they never
     really love it, but it dangerously weakens the younger ones, who haven’t had a chance to build up an immunity. I never took
     sunlight for granted now, or my ability to eat every meal with cutlery. Though, aside from the whole blood thing, the Drakes
     were very civilized. They used glasses and goblets, not plastic blood bags.
    Lady Natasha, by all accounts, was not civilized. She’d been Montmartre’s second-in-command and his lover. When he’d tired of her, she allied herself with a powerful
     vampire family. She knew the customs of the vampires, the Host, and the Hounds, and she was determined to bring them all together
     under her leadership. Biases ran deeply though, and so far she hadn’t managed to unite them. It wasn’t for an altruistic motive
     like ending what was basically a civil war; it was all about the power for her. And possibly sticking it to Montmartre.
    I’d seen the roses with his name on them.
    They didn’t bode well. He clearly wanted a Drake daughter to give him vampire babies— and the power of the council and the
     royal courts if Solange really did take them over. He wanted it all.
    Lady Natasha, who wanted him as much as she wanted power, wouldn’t be too keen on any part of that plan.
    If only vampire politics were on high school history exams, I’d be all set.
    Solange was still asleep, curled around the sunbeams falling on her pillow. I’d already noticed that she was sleeping later
     and later. I was starting to get nervous for her. Everyone else seemed to think it was a totally normal part of the change.
     I pulled a sweater on over my nightgown and added thick socks. It was always freezing in the Drake house, no matter the time
     of year. I went straight to the kitchen to make myself some tea and toast. No one else was awake. I ate my breakfast and then
     took my tea with me as I wandered through the house.
    In my sleep- dazed state, I’d actually forgotten about Kieran, tied to a sturdy chair in one of the parlors. I froze, cup
     halfway to my mouth. His eyes were intent, curious, edgy. I might not like his attitude, but I guessed I’d be edgy too if
     I was tied up in a vampire’s house. Especially if I was a brainwashed Helios-Ra agent. The gag was loose around his neck,
     lying next to his nose plugs. In daylight I noticed he was wearing black jeans and a black shirt, with bare straps where Helena
     had removed his weapons.
    “You look like you belong in a bad comic book,” I told him cheerfully.
    He stared at me. “You really aren’t bothered by the whole vampire thing, are you?”
    I shrugged. “Whatever.” It was obvious he didn’t know what to make of me. I approached curiously. I’d never actually seen
     a Helios-Ra agent before. I wondered what the fuss was about. He was barely older than we were. His hands were lashed loosely
     at the wrists so he could move them a little, but his shoulders were tied tighter to the chair back. He wore steel-toed army
     boots, also attached tightly at the ankles. “What did the Drakes do that’s got you all pissy?”
    “Pissy? Did you just call me pissy?”
    “I call ’em how I see ’em.”
    “You are the weirdest girl.”
    “From the guy who thinks he’s a secret agent man.”
    “You should take the Helios-Ra more seriously,” he warned me.
    I smiled at him with very little humor. “I don’t take direction well.” I raised my eyebrows. “So? What’s with the vendetta?”
    His jaw clenched. “I told you.”
    “I’m sorry your dad died. But you can’t blame all vampires for the actions of one.” I tried to sound reasonable, calming.
     My mom was a natural at that sort of thing. Me? Not so much. “That’s called racism.”
    “They’re not human.”
    “That’s so beside the point.”
    He gaped at me. “What?”
    “And besides, the