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conversation that way.
    “Rumors?” The woman’s voice sounded familiar, but I still couldn’t place it or picture the face that went with it.
    The back of my thigh itched with a tickling sensation that you can ignore at first, but then it grows until you can’t do anything but scratch it. I held my breath, which was a bad idea.
    The room was suddenly quiet. I thought about trying to pretend I was sleeping again but figured I’d already blown my cover. Rosalin and Lenorre had most likely already heard the glitch in my breathing. What the hell. I scratched my thigh and rolled over.
    Rosalin was sitting on the couch. Lenorre met my gaze from the armchair, and not too far from her, Zaphara sat with long legs crossed at the ankles. At nearly six feet, Lenorre was tall. Zaphara stood even a couple of inches taller than Lenorre. The first time I had met her, she’d been encircled in Lenorre’s arms. The two had been necking. I might’ve been jealous except that necking by vampire standards is very different from human standards. If a vampire wanted to neck with someone, they didn’t necessarily want to have a hot and steamy make-out session.
    Of course, the biting could be erotic and sensual. But generally, when a vampire wants to neck, blood will often be drawn.
    The idea of Lenorre’s mouth on Zaphara didn’t really sit well with me.
    Zaphara’s gaze was beautiful and alien. An air about her screamed, “Not human.” I just couldn’t figure out what the hell she was. Her eyes were the color of amethyst and shone in the dimly lit room. The hair that she normally let loose to fall past her waist was pulled back at the nape of her neck in a low ponytail. I could never tell if her hair color was natural or if she had a really good dye job. When the light reflected off the glossy tresses, I realized they were purple-black. With her hair drawn back, the pale triangle of her face stood out to perfection. It brought out the delicate curve of her jaw and her model-high cheekbones. She looked to be in her mid-twenties, but something I couldn’t peg about Zaphara made her seem a heck of a lot older.
    “How long have you been awake?” Rosalin asked.
    “Long enough to be confused.”
    “How do you feel?” Lenorre asked.
    “Like I need coffee.” I shoved my arm under the pillow, unable to remember falling asleep on Lenorre’s side of the bed. “When did you wake?”
    Rosalin and Zaphara glanced at one another. Lenorre remained silent.
    “What?” I asked.
    Rosalin stood from the couch. “Where’s your cell phone?”
    “In my jeans, I think. Why?”
    She glanced around the room. “Okay, where are your jeans?”
    I sat up and glanced at the floor, finding my jeans in a crumpled heap. “What do I need my cell for?” I asked. I turned to find Rosalin’s eyes fixed somewhere below my face.
    “Shit.” I grabbed a handful of black sheet and used it to cover my chest. “Thanks for telling me.” Why did I feel like I was always accidentally giving Rosalin a free show?
    “I did.” She grinned, baring her perfectly white teeth. “I looked, didn’t I?”
    “What do I need my cell for?” I asked again. I dug out my phone, keeping the sheet pinned to my chest. How had I not realized I was naked? In fact, where were my clothes?
    “What time is it, Kassandra?” Zaphara asked.
    I opened the phone. “Three. Wait, I slept until three in the morning? Are you fucking kidding me?”
    “Kassandra, look again,” Lenorre said. This time I noticed the little PM by the time.
    “You’re awake?” It was part question, part statement.
    Lenorre leaned back in her seat. “So it seems.”
    “Why are you awake? You’re supposed to die at dawn.”
    “Yes,” she said.
    “You said something about a mistress and rumor.”
    Lenorre’s face was emotionless. “Every vampire has a creator.”
    “Yeah, but you called her a mistress .” I managed to make the words sound empty and focused on controlling my facial expressions. I