She’d even felt it when she finally accepted vampires were real, and realized there was nothing she could do but try to avoid them.

Complete and absolute indifference.

She held her breath as the heat of Kerestyan’s body seared her back. She could only recall three days in recent memory when she hadn’t felt that way, two of which she’d barely been conscious.

He was the only reason she’d feared this moment.

But it wasn’t because she loved him, she barely knew him. It wasn’t because she needed him; she was more than content to be alone. It was because after everything he’d done for her, she didn’t want to disappoint him.

Releasing her breath, Logan reached out to touch the intricate filigree embossing near the seam where the doors met, but just as her fingertips brushed the cold metal, they rattled and swung open from the inside.

The moment the doors fully parted, she forgot about what she couldn’t feel for Kerestyan, forgot about wishing she’d have met him in another place, another time. All she could focus on was the creature twenty yards in front of her, sitting on a throne made of ivory bones, in the center of a moonlit chamber crawling with shadows.

Long, midnight hair framed a beautiful, almost alien face with flawless, porcelain skin. High cheekbones cut and angled down into a strong, unforgiving jaw line. Firm, pale lips were drawn tight, offering no shred of discernable emotion.

But it was his eyes, or lack thereof, that really chilled her. Two shadowed hollows occupied the space where his eyes should have been, lending the nightmare quality to the twisted angel Kerestyan had described.

Obsidian armor covered his body from the neck down, but unlike Odin’s, his was made of only blackened metal. The head of a dragon was emblazoned across his chest plate, yet instead of being etched or embossed, it glowed as if it were completely separate from his armor.

Black stairs led up the stone platform where he sat on his throne, eight to ten feet higher than the rest of the room. Behind him and to the right was a huge, nearly lifelike statue of a giant in full armor, similar in appearance to the man on the throne, but much larger.

It wasn’t until she inched through the doorway that she realized one wall of the chamber wasn’t like the others. Where everything in the entire place seemed to be awash in black, the wall to her right was a mash of pinks and reds.

And the longer she stared at it, the more it appeared to be moving.

No, no. It didn’t appear to be moving, it was moving.

Writhing.

In the small area she focused on, a pair of brown eyes surfaced and blinked before a set of lips formed, letting out a muffled, pained cry.

Oh, God no… She reached back and grabbed a handful of Kerestyan’s hair then pulled his head down next to hers. “Is that…”

“Yes.” His voice was quiet, almost a whisper.

Her eyes widened. “No.”

“His favorite enemies and rivals. Consisting of vampires, werewolves and…other.”

“Humans?”

“No. He doesn’t traffic with humans anymore.”

Logan gave in to the chill sliding up her spine and shook out her hands. She’d seen a lot of awful things living on the streets of New York, but the most disconcerting part of staring at the wall of undulating muscle, flesh and body parts…was that it wasn’t the worst sight she’d ever witnessed.

What does that say about you? It wasn’t a question she wanted to know the answer to.

The sound of metal scraping against stone pulled her attention from the wall and back to the horribly beautiful man sitting in the center of the room. In front of the stairs the marble floor liquefied and rose to form a simple stone chair with arms and a high back.

She swallowed hard, assuming that was his special way of implying she should get her ass over there. She moved towards him, very much feeling as though she was walking the long hallway to the principal’s office. Only this time, the principal had fangs and full rights to corporal punishment, up to and including death.

Just as she reached the chair she felt Kerestyan’s hand tighten around her arm. She stopped and watched as he stepped up beside her, every bit the regal and proud man she’d become, if nothing else, rather fond of over the last few days.

He bowed his head. “Father, I present to you Logan Ellis, as you requested. Logan, this is my Father, Lord Stefan Nelek.”

She nodded at Stefan, who completely ignored her and inclined his head towards Kerestyan. “You may leave, Kerestyan.” His voice wasn’t like anything she’d ever heard. It was sinister yet oddly enchanting, deep and full of raw, unbridled power.

Kerestyan stiffened. “But, Father, I feel I should…” When Stefan raised his mailed hand, Kerestyan fell silent instantly.

“I didn’t request your presence, Child. I requested only hers. Leave my chamber.”

He hesitated for a second, but lowered his head again. “Yes, Father.”

To say the room felt a little empty as Kerestyan’s footfalls faded behind her was a gross understatement. But when the heavy doors slammed closed, she’d never felt more alone in her entire life.

This was it. She was going to die. Right here.

Alone.

When Stefan motioned to the chair, she quietly sat down but immediately wanted to jump out of it. The hard marble bit icy teeth through her jeans, stinging her skin to the brink of numbness.

“Logan Ellis, owner of knowledge no human should possess. What circumstances do you believe brought you before me this night?”

She shifted. She wanted to pay complete attention to him, but how could anyone sit in this chair without their butt cheeks freezing together? “You answered your own question. I know about vampires. I’m not supposed to.” She leaned to the side, trying to keep as much of her behind off the seat as possible. “Can I stand up for this conversation?”

“Why?”

She huffed out a breath and kicked her legs. “Because I can’t focus when my ass is frostbitten. I know how important this meeting is. Please? I promise I’ll stand still.”

His face didn’t change at all. “Why would you promise to stand still?”

“Because you don’t strike me as the type of guy who likes a lot of movement.” She grabbed the other arm of the chair and leaned towards that side. “Call it a hunch, but when someone surrounds themselves with this much stone, they don’t like things that change. Change position, change texture; change period.” She started to wiggle again, but stopped when she swore the statue’s lip twitched.

Stefan turned his head to stare up at it. At least she thought he was looking at it…it was kind of hard to tell since he didn’t have eyes! “You find her entertaining?”

“She reminds me of Odin.”

She jumped and sat up, spine straight as an arrow. Suddenly, the chair wasn’t the coldest thing in the room anymore. It was the living statue. It was his frigid, powerful voice echoing through the room, crushing down on her entire body, stealing the oxygen from her lungs.

Even the demonic angel’s voice didn’t hit like that.

“Interesting.” Stefan waved a hand and within a few seconds her chair heated to a nice and toasty temperature. “Do you find that more acceptable?”

She swallowed a few mouthfuls of air before she nodded. “Yes.” She eyed the statue again before settling back on Stefan. “Why didn’t you just do that in the first place?”

“I’ve learned over the ages, creatures of any species tend to be more honest when uncomfortable.” He motioned to the wall of living flesh.

She didn’t look. “I don’t need to sit on a block of ice to feel uncomfortable right now, trust me. That feeling pretty much started when the dragon tried to eat me.”

“I apologize for Nidan’s behavior. My Children tend to be exactly that sometimes, children.”

“Yeah, I’ve met Odin.”

“Odin disapproves of you. He disapproves even more of his brother’s feelings for you.”

She wasn’t exactly surprised. “Yeah, well, what Odin does or does not approve of, really isn’t my problem. Kerestyan’s more than an adult, and if he does have some kind of feelings for me, it’s really none of Odin’s business.”

“You don’t care for Kerestyan.”

She ground her teeth together. What was it with vampires and their obsessive need to tell her how she felt? “Look, I like him, but I’m not going to sit here and profess—”

“It wasn’t a question.”

She narrowed her eyes on his hollows. Only one person knew how she felt, and it sure as hell wasn’t him. “I really don’t think it’s your place to tell me how I feel about anything. You don’t know me.”

“I don’t need to know you. I’ve seen you a thousand times before. Dotan, a divine priest clinging to his failing beliefs because he knows nothing else. Kerestyan, an honorable knight imprisoned inside the very armor which holds and protects him. Odin, a fierce warrior leading droves of men to their death because the rage inside him inspires nothing greater. And Trinity, a beautiful woman wrapped so tight in the fingers of pleasure, she no longer feels because she’s never known pain.”