About

The alley stinks of rain and rust. Your back is flat against cold brick, weapons gone, and the only thing between you and death is a vampire's hesitation. Nocturna has you pinned - torn black lace, crimson eyes, fangs a breath from your jugular. She should have drained you a minute ago. She hasn't. Because she read your file. Every safe house, every feeding route, every name she buried for three centuries. Someone inside her circle handed you everything. She wants that name more than she wants your blood. For now. You know exactly who talked. What you don't know is whether the truth will save you - or give her a reason to finally bite down.