Rachel forced her eyes open, breaking through the crust that sealed them shut, only to be met by a shrill sound that drove a groan from her throat and made her close them again. Slowly, she found the strength to move, fighting against a headache far worse than any hangover she had ever known. When a sudden tightness spread through her chest, she gave in to the discomfort and sank back down, momentarily disconnected from the room, her body, and the broken pieces of what had happened.

Her senses returned in fragments. The fabric beneath her was soft but worn, nothing like the smooth luxury of Vlad's couch, and the smell of old wood, dust, and something sour beneath it told her she was still in Myus's cottage. An owl hooted outside, low and mournful, and Rachel turned her head toward a shape lying near the wall.

At first, her blurred vision refused to understand what she was seeing.

Myus lay on the floor, his once youthful body shrivelled into something dry and ruined. His skin had collapsed against his bones, thin and raisin like, while his lifeless eyes stared at the ceiling and his tongue hung from blue tinged lips.

Rachel sat up too quickly, and pain split through her skull. Her stomach lurched. She barely turned in time before she vomited onto the floor, missing her clothes by inches. The effort stole what little strength she had, and when she tried to rise, her limbs trembled so violently that she had no choice but to sink back against the couch.

Panic clawed at her, but she forced herself to breathe through it. She needed to centre herself. She needed to reach for whatever power remained inside her, because lying helpless beside Myus's corpse was not an option she could afford.

Then her gaze shifted back to his body, and the breath left her.

Black, sinuous shapes coiled around him. They moved like serpents, slick and boneless, tightening around the remains of his borrowed flesh until Rachel heard the faint, brittle snap of bone. The creatures undulated as they drained whatever essence remained in him, pulling the last traces of power from the thing that had nearly taken hers.

The leech.

Rachel's heart lurched so hard it hurt. Myus was dead, or close enough to it that the difference no longer mattered, and the thing that had been searching for her was here with her in the room. If it had finished with him, there was every chance she would be next.

She needed Vlad.

The thought struck with terrifying clarity. Not because she wanted to face him, and not because she had any idea how to explain what she had done, but because the bond between them was no longer a romantic confusion or an ancient pull she could pretend to ignore. It was a lifeline, and she was fraying too badly to survive without it.

One serpent like head lifted from Myus's ruined body, black as night and slick beneath the flickering light. Its small dark eyes fixed on her as it slid toward the couch with deliberate caution, its long body trailing behind it in a slow, soundless ripple. Rachel could not move as it reached her, brushed against the warmth of her neck, and settled there like a nightmare pretending to be tame.

"What are you doing?" she managed, her voice thin and unsteady.

"Calm yourself. I am finishing what you started."

His voice reached her without his mouth moving, smooth and intimate enough to make her skin crawl.

"That feeder would have killed you. That is why you feel so weak now. Your power is impressive, Aphrodite, but you spent too much of it surviving him."

Rachel swallowed against the burn in her throat. "And you sucked him dry?"

"Gladly. I have longed to devour that wretched creature for centuries. He was a vile deserter who deserved every last drop drained from him, but his little sanctuary was always protected by magic." The leech shifted closer, its cool body sliding against her skin. "It was a pleasant surprise when you led me here."

Fear tightened through her, but she was too depleted to fight it for long. Her eyelids grew heavy, and although every instinct told her to stay awake, exhaustion dragged at her with dark, greedy hands.

When Rachel opened her eyes again, the cottage was moving around her.

No. She was being carried.

Her vision blurred, and lifting her head took more effort than it should have, but she managed to look at the man holding her. He had golden tanned skin, a bald head, and a face that was too youthful to match the ancient, predatory weight in his glowing yellow eyes. His stare was unmistakable. Whatever body he wore now, the aura beneath it belonged to the serpent that had haunted her.

Rachel gripped his arm. "You're the leech? In a body?"

He nodded.

"But how?"

"The powers of that repulsive creature were transferable," he answered, as though the explanation should have been obvious. "I have waited centuries for that fool to take a body I could claim. Your essence made him careless. Lovestruck, even. Thanks to you, I now possess flesh of my own."

Rachel frowned through the fog in her head. "You know your body comes with a voice box?"

His brows rose.

"Oh," he said aloud, testing the sound with faint curiosity. "What's wrong?"

"You're not wearing any clothes."

He looked down at himself with mild interest, entirely unbothered by the fact, and gave another thoughtful, "Oh."

Rachel closed her eyes for a second. "You really are unsettling."

"I have been called worse."

He carried her through the doorway and into the daylight. Sunlight bathed her skin as he crossed the clearing to Vlad's car and placed her in the back seat, as though he had not just drained Myus into a corpse. The trees were alive with colour now, their leaves bright beneath the morning sun, and the owl remained perched on a thick branch, watching him with wary intelligence.

The leech hissed at it, his long, snake-like tongue flicking from his mouth.

Rachel shuddered. "Don't eat the owl."

He glanced back at her as though she had made an unreasonable request, then shut the door and disappeared into the cottage. When he returned a few moments later, he was fully clothed in whatever he had found inside, though the garments sat on him with the awkwardness of someone wearing humanity for the first time.

"Can you drive?" she asked as he slid into the driver's seat.

He faced her with a grin. "I have existed far longer than any car. In my realm, temporary bodies can be leased, borrowed, or stolen, depending on one's manners. I have experienced enough of your world's inventions to manage a vehicle."

He started the engine and accelerated out of the driveway with alarming confidence. Rachel grabbed the door handle as the car jolted along the rough track, her body protesting every sharp turn and sudden burst of speed.

"Aren't you worried about his protective creatures?" she asked, feeling relieved as the cottage disappeared from sight, a sight she hoped never to see again.

He laughed softly. "They fear me more than I could ever fear them. I am an outsider to this world, Aphrodite. Those little guardians were made to frighten intruders, not things that crawl through the seams between realms."

"You say that like it makes you less terrifying."

"Do you really see me as a monster, even after I carried you from that place?"

"You are going to give me to the Abaddon."

His eyes flashed in the rear-view mirror. "Eventually, perhaps. Today, I saved you."

"You came to take Myus's powers."

"And in doing so, saved you." His tone held a note of genuine perplexity. "The feeder posed a greater threat to you in that moment than the Abaddon. Myus would have taken everything, and there would have been nothing left of you to fear anyone."

"The Abaddon is the reason the other Aphrodites died."

"Other Aphrodites?" he asked, with a faint turn of his head.

"If you've lived so long, then surely you know what happened to them."

His silence lingered too long.

"Your memory is broken," he said at last. "Or buried. The Abaddon is not your immediate concern, no matter what your fear tells you. He is still trying to navigate the portals between worlds, and even the ruler of darkness must find a door before he can enter."

Rachel pressed her palm to her chest, where the ache was becoming sharper. "Then why do I feel like I'm dying?"

"Because you are empty." His voice softened, but not with kindness. More with observation. "You need essence soon. Let me take you to your vampire."

"No."

His gaze flicked to her again through the mirror. "No?"

"I can't face him. Not yet."

"Then choose another source before your body chooses for you."

Rachel hated how much sense that made.

She dragged her phone from her pocket with shaking hands, but for the moment, she did not unlock it. "Why did Myus look like that?"

"Because there was very little left worth preserving."

"You turned him into a raisin."

The leech smiled, and the expression looked too pleased on his new face. "True, I did. But do not mistake scavenging for the strike. I fed on what remained after you broke him."

Rachel went still.

"What?"

"You killed that creature before I arrived."

The memory returned in fragments. Light exploding from her. Myus flying across the room. The crack of wood and the smell of burning dust. Then darkness, the bracelet beneath her fingers, and nothing.

"That can't be right."

"Myus was dead when I found you."

Rachel stared out the window, watching the trees blur past as her stomach twisted around something colder than fear. She had not meant to kill him. The power had come from instinct, not intention, but apparently that did not matter to the body left behind.

After a long moment, she forced the words out. "Why does the Abaddon want me?"

The leech's grip tightened on the steering wheel. "You are destined to be together. There was a time, many centuries ago, when I served you. Those days were simpler. Things made sense then."

"What do you mean you served me? You mean an Aphrodite?"

"You are weakened. This is not the time to delve into the past."

"What's your name?" she asked, partly because she needed something else to focus on, and partly because calling him the leech while he drove Vlad's car through Sydney felt absurd. "Surely you don't just call yourself the leech."

He glanced back with a smile, his snake-like tongue briefly visible between his teeth. "I have no name. Choose whatever suits me in your eyes, Aphrodite."

Given what she had just seen, Rachel said, "Considering you drained Myus dry, leech still feels accurate."

He chuckled, apparently pleased rather than offended.

As the forest gave way to wider roads and the city slowly rose ahead of them, Rachel's awareness began to blur at the edges. Myus's attack had taken too much. Her body felt hollowed out, as though her bones were trying to hold up a person who was no longer fully there.

Guilt twisted through her as she imagined what Vlad must be feeling. Confusion. Concern. Hunger.

She searched her phone and found Vlad's number at the top of her contacts, saved as #1Vlad. A small, ridiculous laugh escaped her despite the weakness dragging at her limbs. A further scroll revealed Darius listed as Dorkius, and the laugh became a breathless sound that almost hurt.

Vlad had done that.

The ache in her chest tightened.

Her thumb hovered over his name, and the urge to call him was almost physical, as though the bond itself were pulling her toward the only source it recognised as safe. But shame stopped her. She could not call him after what she had done, not when she could still see the violet fading from his eyes and the hurt remaining on his face.

Instead, she messaged Darius.

He was kind, or at least kinder than most of the creatures circling her life, and if she could not face Vlad, then Darius was the only person she could think of who might come without turning her fear into a prison.

It took several messages before he agreed to meet her at her apartment.

Rachel let the phone fall into her lap. "I don't know how to feel about you."

The leech's eyes gleamed in the mirror. "How fortunate that I did not ask."

"Part of me wants to thank you, and the other part wants to throw myself out of this moving car."

"This world is complicated. Its creatures are worse. Thanks to you, I have a body, so gratitude should be mine."

Rachel watched the city approach. "What made you choose this particular body?"

"My first encounter on Earth was in ancient Egypt. I resided with you, the Aphrodite who captivated a pharaoh's heart, and I always envisioned myself like this, as one of them. She adored me in my serpent form. I belonged to her."

Rachel shifted against the seat, trying to ignore the way her hands had started to tremble again. "You loved her?"

The car slowed outside her building. The leech removed the keys and turned to her, the golden light in his eyes warming in a way that made him look almost human.

"You are so young," he said. "Do you not think the form I imagined for myself across all these centuries carries some symbol of my past?"

He placed the keys gently into her hand.

Rachel did not know what to say to that.

He opened the driver's side door, and she climbed out, using the car for balance as weakness rolled through her. By the time she made it around the vehicle, he had transformed back into a serpent. He slid across the pavement in a ripple of black, slipped through the grate of a storm drain, and vanished beneath the city.

Rachel stood there with Vlad's keys in her hand, trying to make sense of the fact that the thing from her nightmare had just driven her home.

Then her knees threatened to buckle, and survival became more important than understanding.

She made it to her apartment door by sheer stubbornness, fumbling with the lock until it finally gave. Once inside, she flicked on the lights and scanned the corners for anything waiting in the shadows. The apartment looked ordinary, which somehow made her feel less safe, as though ordinary things had become too thin to trust.

She dropped Vlad's keys near the fruit bowl and turned toward the living room.

Darius was waiting on the couch.

"You startled me," she said, releasing a shaky breath and trying to sound more annoyed than relieved.

With deliberate slowness, Darius tilted his head to the left until his neck cracked, his gaze never leaving hers.

"Why are you driving Vlad's car?" he asked, casually extending his arms across the back of the couch.

"I needed a ride, and I don't own a car."

"Is everything okay?"

Rachel meant to answer, but the room dipped slightly, and her attention snagged on him before she could stop it. Not with ordinary attraction, not even with the familiar pull of vampire beauty, but with the terrible recognition of a starving body finding warmth. He had essence. He had blood. He had enough life in him to keep her from slipping into the dark.

Darius's expression sharpened. "Rachel?"

She blinked, trying to drag herself back from the hunger spreading through her. "What?"

"You look like you're about to collapse."

"I'm fine."

"You are not okay."

Her gaze drifted past him, catching on the large painting of Vlad in the lounge room, and panic sparked through the fog. She had forgotten about it.

Darius followed her line of sight. "Why is there a painting of Vlad in your lounge room? A rather large one, I might add."

"I'm holding onto it for him," she said, because it was the first lie that came to her.

"The scent of fresh paint lingers, and I know my friend does not need to store anything in this tiny apartment you call home." His mouth curved, though his eyes remained watchful. "One might think you are starting to develop genuine feelings for him."

Rachel tried to answer, but the ache inside her opened wider. It was no longer hunger in any simple sense. It was emptiness with teeth, and Darius was the only living thing close enough to stop it from swallowing her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I just really need you."

His playful smirk faltered at once.

"Rachel, what happened to you? Your essence..."

She tried to say Myus's name, tried to explain the cottage, the bracelet, the leech, and the darkness still staining her from the inside, but the room tilted again, and her knees gave way. Darius moved before she fell, catching her by the arms and pulling her against him.

The moment his body touched hers, every starving part of her turned toward him.

Warmth. Blood. Essence.

Relief was so close she could almost taste it.

"Rachel," he warned, but his voice sounded distant now.

She clung to him, her fingers tightening in his shirt as he lowered her onto his lap to steady her. His arms came around her, and for one brief moment, the embrace felt almost safe. Then his scent filled her lungs, rich and dark and threaded with something that was not quite human, and the hunger inside her surged hard enough to steal her breath.

A tremor ran through her body, followed by an unfamiliar pressure in her mouth. Pain bloomed in her gums. Rachel gasped as fangs pushed through, drawing blood against her tongue.

She was not a vampire. She knew that. Yet something of Vlad remained inside her, caught deep in the bond between them, and her dying body reached for it as though it had always known how.

Darius went still beneath her.

"What happened?" he asked.

She turned into his neck before she could stop herself. Her fangs pierced his skin with terrifying precision.

Darius growled, his body stiffening as he tried to pull her back, but the first rush of blood hit her tongue, and the room dissolved into need. It was not like Estella's blood. There was no bright, easy essence waiting for her, no clean rush of stolen vitality. Darius's blood was darker, stranger, and almost immediately her body recoiled from it.

Rachel tore her mouth away, gagging.

Darius's hand closed around the back of her neck with enough control to stop her from lunging again. His eyes had gone dark, his own fangs visible, and the blood at his throat shone wet against his skin.

"You bit me," he said, his voice rough with shock and hunger.

"I didn't mean to."

His nostrils flared as he drew in her scent, and whatever hunger had risen in him sharpened into alarm. "Your essence is weak, and it's tainted."

The word struck through her. "What?"

"Black," he said, his grip tightening as he studied her face. "There is darkness in it. Myus's scent is all over you."

Rachel tried to pull away, but her body betrayed her, leaning toward his warmth even as fear curdled through her. "Let me go."

"Did you go back to him?"

"Darius, please."

"Did you see Myus?"

She shut her eyes, but the darkness behind them was worse than the room. "Maybe."

"What did you bargain for?"

"Nothing."

His scepticism showed in the flare of his nostrils. "It is impossible to see that creature and make no bargain."

"I wanted answers," she said, forcing the words out while the hunger scraped at her insides. "I wanted to know my options. I wanted to know about the Aphrodites. He gave me some of that, and yes, I paid."

Darius stared at her, and something colder moved through his expression. "Did you kill him?"

Rachel's throat tightened. "I don't know."

"That is not a no."

"I said I don't know."

"What did he tell you?"

Rachel's pulse pounded in her ears. She could feel Darius's blood beneath his skin, could feel the places where her bite had opened him, and her own body screamed at her to stop talking and take what she needed. She gripped his shoulder, trying to anchor herself.

A shiver crawled up Rachel's spine, and with it came the awful certainty that whatever had begun inside her was not finished.

She tried to move away from Darius, but he held her where she was.

"Do not run from me," he said.

"I'm not running."

"You are shaking."

"I can't control it."

The confession left her before pride could stop it.

Darius's grip eased, but only slightly. "Then let me help you."

"I don't think you can."

The darkness under her skin stirred in answer, and Rachel watched his eyes widen as purple light appeared along her arms, threaded now with black. It moved in delicate, living patterns, beautiful and wrong, spilling from her skin and curling through the space between them.

"Rachel," Darius said carefully.

"I'm trying."

But trying was not enough.

Her hunger surged, and the light answered.

It wrapped around him before either of them could move, pressing him back into the couch with a force that made his breath catch. Rachel stared in horror as his resistance faltered beneath her, his jaw tight and his muscles rigid beneath her hands while the black-threaded violet light slid over him like something alive.

"No," she whispered.

Darius fought it, his fingers digging into her waist as he tried to hold her away from him. "Rachel, listen to me."

"I can't."

"You can."

"I can't."

The words broke apart as the creature inside her rose again, hedonistic and starving, eager to turn fear into pleasure and need into command. Rachel leaned down, drawn to the other side of his neck, and though some part of her screamed to stop, her new fangs found him again.

This time, his blood was different.

Her venom had changed it, or perhaps her power had found a way through him, because essence rushed into her with the next pull, rich enough to make her body arch against his. Darius groaned, his hands catching her waist as if to push her away, but the sound that left him was not only pain.

Rachel felt his resistance weakening beneath her in slow, frightening degrees. His hands still gripped her waist, his body still held tension, and his breath still came harsh against her ear, but the force inside her had begun to move through him, sliding into his hunger and turning each struggle into something slower, heavier, more uncertain.

"Rachel," he ground out, her name rough with warning and need.

The sound reached her through the fever, and for one fragile moment she lifted her head, blood warm on her lips as she looked down at him properly. His eyes were black with hunger, yet there was fear there too, sharp and desperate, as though he could see the thing rising inside her more clearly than she could. His fingers dug into her waist, then loosened, then tightened again, caught between pushing her away and holding her still.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, though even as she said it, her body leaned closer to him.

Violet and black light curled over his skin, slipping beneath the open collar of his shirt and tracing the lines of his throat. Darius shuddered, his jaw clenching as the glow sank into him. His hands dragged against her sides, no longer steady, no longer certain, and when he swallowed, her gaze followed the movement with a hunger that made shame feel distant.

"Don't," he said, but the word came out uneven, his voice roughened by the venom moving through his blood.

Rachel stared at him, horrified by the change in his face. The warning was still there, but it was blurring beneath something darker. His pupils had swallowed the colour of his eyes, his lips had parted, and the body beneath hers had stopped fighting with the same force. He looked at her as though he still knew this was wrong, but his hands had begun to hold her closer.

The power around them tightened.

Darius drew a sharp breath, his body arching beneath hers as the black-threaded violet light sank deeper into him. His fingers pressed into her waist, then slid up her back, trembling against her as though he had forgotten what he had meant to do with them. When he said her name again, it no longer carried the shape of a command.

It sounded like a plea.

Rachel tried to move away, but the starving thing inside her surged before she could gather the strength. Her mouth found the wound she had made, and this time Darius did not turn from her before her fangs sank back into his throat.

His blood rushed over her tongue, darker and richer than before, and her body took from him with a desperation that made shame feel thin and useless. Darius groaned beneath her, his hands tightening as if he might still push her away, but instead they locked around her while her essence wrapped through him and drew him deeper into surrender.

Rachel closed her eyes against the horror of it, but she could not stop drinking.

The room pulsed with violet and black light, Darius's blood filled her mouth, and somewhere beneath the hunger, beneath the pleasure, beneath the terrible relief of not dying, Rachel understood that surviving Myus had not saved her from the dark.

It had brought the dark home with her.