For a few seconds, as my mind still lingered somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, I enjoyed the feel of silk against my skin. Then, I remembered everything that happened and my eyes opened abruptly. When I sat upright, pain spread through my lung.

I winced and looked down.

Someone had changed my clothes while I slept, and I hoped it wasn't Dorian, but I was now wearing a clean white shirt, a bit too tight around my chest, and pink shorts with tiny red strawberries unevenly speckled over the fabric.

I'd recognise the room anywhere – the king-sized bed I longed to jump on so many times, but was never allowed to, the white-painted wooden vanity against the opposite wall, and the wall-to-floor white closet with large mirror covering one of its sliding doors. Oh, the closet. How many times I wished I was old enough to wear all the dresses that were probably still hanging inside.

Unexpected lump squeezed my throat.

I was in Dorian's parents' room. And it still looked exactly the same.

Faint twilight light spilled over the beige parquet, illuminating everything orange and pink.

Recollection of the previous night flashed before my eyes.

"Dorian?" I raised my voice, letting the anger out.

The white wooden door creaked and opened, "Good morning, sleepyhead."

I pushed the sheets off my body, "Why the hell didn't you wake me up?"

Dorian entered the room, no sight of my blood over him, just a smooth black suit that I was so used to seeing on him. He crossed his hands on his chest, a smirk gripping his lips.

"I tried." His shoulders raised and lowered quickly. "You told me to go fuck myself."

"How long have I been asleep?"

"Thirty-six hours."

"What?" I jumped out of the bed, completely forgetting the clothes on me were way too tiny. "Lucia- I need to find Lucia-"

Dorian gave me a once over, his eyebrow lifting delicately, "I told Cherry to find something that actually fits. I forgot your boobs are bigger than hers."

I was about to strangle him, "How could you let me sleep? I need to get to Lucia-"

"Lucia is here."

My mouth dropped.

"What?"

"I had her transferred here after you told me about her." Dorian leaned against the doorframe, his arms still folded. "That hospital wasn't safe."

"But-" My thoughts felt mushy and intertwined. "She needs to be monitored! Martin said he had to run tests on her and see if she- if she needed special care – oh, God, what the fuck were you thinking?"

"Do you want to go see her?" Dorian asked, unfazed by my outbursts.

"Yes!"

"Follow me."

He turned around and walked away. I winced when I noticed fuzzy bunny slippers next to my bed, but put them on anyway. Fucking Cherry. How could he be with someone so basic?

Oh, God, she wasn't even a blood whore, I realised as I followed him through the tall white hallways. She lived with him. They were together. All the while he was engaged to my sister!

We were walking towards his late brother's room, and another lump formed in my throat. Beside genuine sadness and nostalgia, another emotion burst through – shame.

In a span of a couple of months, Dorian lost everything.

His parents, his brother and sister, even his grandmother.

And Elena. He lost Elena too.

He held the door for me.

This room, facing the east, already welcomed a darker shade of dusk, and the soft lamplight flickered inside. Lucia sat on the large bed, prompted by lots of pillows and an adjustable backrest. An IV stand and an ECG machine stood next to the bed. Electrodes peeked from behind Lucia's shirt. The machine beeped rhythmically. A separate exam table was right next to the bed, as well as the ultrasound machine.

Lucia was awake, and she typed on the laptop in front of her furiously. She looked pale, but relatively cheery. Her vision returned.

When I entered the room, her gaze cut through me, immediately turning into a squint.

"Hey." I slammed the door in Dorian's face, not letting him in. "How are-"

"Someone tried to kill you?" She closed her laptop. "No, let me rephrase that – someone killed you?"

I raised my hands in defence, "I'm alive."

"Barely." Lucia eyed me up and down. "You look like shit."

"Thanks." I chuckled. "How are you?"

Lucia smiled suggestively – which made me squint in confusion – and folded her hands over her belly.

"Oh, you know." She drawled. "A nurse is checking my vitals every six hours, a personal chef is preparing a meal for me as we speak, and Doctor Martin is begrudgingly sharing every second of this wretched pregnancy with a team of doctors – an ob-gyn, a kidney expert, whatever they're called, and a nutritionist."

Anger seeped through my lips, "Doctor Martin is here?"

"Oh, yes." Lucia grinned. "I believe he is currently being threatened."

"What? By whom?"

"That's not the right question." Lucia shook her head, but wouldn't drop the smile. "The question is why? Why did you lie to me about Dorian?"

"Excuse me?"

"Drop the act, Odette." Her smile ceased. "He's not doing this out of the goodness of his heart. He's doing this for you."

I laughed.

"You're right, he's not doing this out of the goodness of his heart. He's doing this because he knows you're pregnant with a vampire baby." I shook my head. "He understands how valuable that is, and he'll do everything in his power to make sure the baby doesn't die."

"Oh, come on." Lucia rolled her eyes. "He turned half of his house into a hospital, and the other half into a nursery, and you're telling me it had nothing to do with you asking for it?"

"I asked for money." I pushed. "Not for this."

"But he did this!" She spread her hands, gesturing at the machinery filling the room.

"He's being dramatic."

Lucia's eyes narrowed, "Why did you call him?"

"You're reading into it." I brushed it off. "Tell me, what did the doctors-"

"Why did you call him?"

"Whom was I supposed to call?"

"Uh, your smoking hot hunter boyfriend?"

Oh, fuck. I told Jax I'd call him tomorrow, but tomorrow has passed.

"Odette?" Lucia called me. "Why didn't you call Jax?"

Why didn't I call Jax?

Oh, there was a perfectly rational explanation for that, not that it had crossed my mind when I was dying.

"Jax would have brought me to a hospital, Luce." I said, begrudged. "Where they wouldn't have given me human blood – the only thing that could heal me. And I probably would have died on the operating table."

"Now who's being dramatic?"

My eyes narrowed, "Just be glad he gave us money to pay off Martin. Maybe he won't snitch to my family."

Lucia was done paying attention to me. She shifted her gaze to the computer.

"Oh, Martin's not gonna snitch."

"Let's hope so."

"He won't snitch because Dorian is going to kill him."

"What?" My eyes widened.

"Uh-huh." Luce nodded, staring at the screen. "He's gonna get all the information out of him, and then he's gonna kill him."

"Oh, my God." I grunted, and headed for the door. "That's his solution for everything. Someone not listening to you? Threaten their life. What an absolute maniac."

"Tell the chef I'm hungry!"

I slammed the door behind me, and walked confidently down the stairs, where I knew I'd find the luxurious living room. The dark oak double door appeared in front of me, and Cherry blocked the entrance.

The last time I saw her in Dorian's club, she looked drunk and hazed, and it was so easy to dismiss her as a blood whore. But now, standing in front of the door with her hands folded against her chest and her lips pursed, she took on a human form.

Cherry was gorgeous in an almost too perfect way; long blonde hair, earthy blue eyes with patches of green and yellow, long tanned legs, small waist, and clear skin. There was an unexpected sharpness in her eyes, an edge I thought the loss of blood would take away, and I realised Dorian wasn't drinking from her – at least not often.

"You're not allowed in here." She glanced at her manicured pink nails. "Dorian's orders."

"I don't care about Dorian's orders." I raised my eyebrow. "And if you don't move, I'll move you myself."

Cherry buried her feet into place, and I noticed she wore the same bunny slippers.

"You can try."

"Dorian!" I shouted, "Your blood whore is going to get her nails broken if she doesn't move!"

"Call me a blood whore again." Cherry squeezed her fists.

I put my hand on her forearm and pushed her off with ease. She let out a panicked squeal, and staggered ahead.

"Ugh, I hate you so much!"

Ignoring her, I pushed the double door and entered the huge living room. The furniture – long, comfortable sofa, upholstered in beige velvet, accented with decorative pillows, and the ornate oak coffee table, were pushed away from their usual place in the middle of the room. The carpet was rolled up and moved, leaving the hardwood floor bare. Heavy velvet drapes were pulled over the large windows.

In the middle of the room, Doctor Martin sat tied to a chair, a piece of cloth in his mouth, and Dorian rested on the sofa, drinking whiskey. When I entered the room, he raised his eyebrow.

"Why is he tied to a chair?"

Doctor Martin looked terrified; his eyes were wide, begging me for help, and he trashed against the chair to no avail, muffling into the cloth.

"I didn't want him to run away." Dorian shrugged.

"Just give him the money and let him go." I commanded, eyes jumping between the vampire lounging on the sofa and the one squirming in the chair.

"He's going to tell them." Dorian's voice remained calm, like this was something he dealt with on daily basis. "And we can't allow that."

"Dorian." I uttered. "He understands, okay? He knows you're going to kill him if he says anything, don't you?"

Martin nodded hastily, and muffled into the cloth, his eyes impossibly wide.

"Odette." Now, Dorian's voice turned serious. "He had the opportunity of treating a human woman pregnant with a vampire baby, and all he thought about was money. He's driven by greed. He's going to tell anyone anything as long as they offer enough money."

Doctor Martin shook his head, again and again, and tried to set himself free. His eyes constantly fought to meet mine, but I faced Dorian, anger brewing inside me.

"You can't kill my mother's gynaecologist!"

"Well, she's not gonna have any more children."

"Dorian!" I shouted. "Just let him leave, please. Please."

The swiftness with which I've gotten used to begging him unnerved me.

Dorian kept quiet for a few seconds, and kept his eyes glued to mine. There seemed to be a storm behind the dark blue, something fighting to reach the surface, brewing underneath the calmness, and my shoulders slumped with a sudden realisation that I had no control over his actions. Never had, never would.

"Fine." The corners of his lips lifted; a challenge. "He can go. But if he ends up telling someone about Lucia, it'll be on you."

My heart dropped, "Fine."

Doctor Martin relaxed with relief in his chair, almost sliding to the floor, and I couldn't bare look at him. Dorian might be right. Martin was too focused on getting the money, when witnessing something that's never happened in our world. I turned on my heel, ready to walk away, when the car lights flashed through the crack in the curtains, and a crippling sense of premonition settled over me.

"Who is that?" I faced Dorian again.

"Oh, that? We have guests."

Panic spread through me like an infection.

"Excuse me? You called someone?"

I rushed to the tall windows and moved the curtains aside. My breath caught in my throat when I glimpsed the black town car and to men standing in front of the backseat door, holding it open for someone. The deep dusk settled over New York City, and just as the last ray of sunshine disappeared, a pale grey hand, adorned with diamonds, reached from the car.

"You didn't think regular doctors could deal with Lucia, did you?" Dorian murmured somewhere behind me.

But my eyes were set on the figure leaving the car – an Elder vampiress.