So when Derek barged into the penthouse, screaming my name like it was bloody murder, I really had no idea what I did wrong or why he seemed so angry with me. What I did know was that I felt nothing but sheer terror as I approached him as quickly as I possibly could.

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He was standing in the middle of the living room, muscles tensed, blood dripping from the corners of his lips, looking more menacing than I’d ever seen him before. The leanness of his physique bulged with his every breath as he took a few steady strides toward me.

“What happened?” I managed to squeak out in question.

In response, he grabbed my shoulders and lifted me off the ground. I inwardly groaned, pretty sure that my back was once again about to hit a wall or any surface hard enough to slam my body over. Instead, I found myself being pushed into a couch while he paced the ground in front of me, exuding intensity I’d never quite seen from anyone. I gripped the arm rests of the white leather couch I was sitting on – a way of steadying myself for what kind of outburst this brooding vampire was about to throw my way.

Watching Derek act like a bull seeing red, I wondered if all vampires were as he was. Brooding and intense and incapable of laughter or even the slightest hint of mirth… I recalled Sam and Kyle and how they seemed to be in such a light and casual mood when dealing with us girls that afternoon. I wondered why they could be so relaxed while the Novaks were so intense and uptight.

Derek finally stopped pacing and stood right in front of me. He then sat over the edge of the coffee table and rested his elbows over his knees, his hands clasped together, his eyes downcast before he spoke out whatever was on his mind.

“What you told me that night… at the Sanctuary, when you first saw me… why did you say it?”

I struggled to recall what I told him. His presence was so overpowering, so consuming, it felt like he was filling up the entire room. “I don’t recall…”

“I was about to feed on you. I told you that I couldn’t help myself. You said…”

“…that I know an excuse when I hear one and that you shouldn’t make yourself out to be the victim.”

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“Am I a victim?”

I thought it was a trick question. I stared at him for a couple of seconds, wondering if he realized how insane that question sounded coming from him. Of course he wasn’t the victim! He wasn’t the one who was captured against his own will and imprisoned - in an admittedly breathtaking and lavish penthouse – but imprisoned nonetheless! He was lord of the vampires, feared, revered and admired. How on earth could he possibly be a victim?

I studied his appearance, wondering what was going through his mind. Before I could even think it through I reached out and wiped the blood off his mouth with a tissue.

“You fed on someone.”

It was almost as if he stopped breathing as his fists clenched.

“She wasn’t much older than you are. Eighteen or nineteen. She was a shadow hunter. She was the enemy. I found pleasure in sucking every bit of her blood out.” He raised his blue eyes to meet mine and the slightest of smirks formed on his lips. “I enjoyed it the same way I would’ve enjoyed you.”

I tensed, confused by what he was attempting to say. “Why are you telling me this, Derek?”

A painful expression twisted his features as he began to fumble with his fingers. He shook his head slowly before responding, “Because I don’t want to enjoy it. I actually miss being the victim, but that night... you saw me as someone playing the part of a victim. Why?”

I gave it some thought. Why did I say that? At that time, all I really wanted was for him not to kill me, but I could’ve said so many things. Why that? I dared grab his hand before answering.

“Because I don’t believe that you are a slave to what you’ve become. I don’t believe that you simply can’t.”

He looked at me with so much intensity, I began to wonder if I’d said something wrong, so I was relieved when his face somehow relaxed and he lifted a hand to brush a stray strand of hair off my face. “You are a marvel.”

At that statement, I had to smile. “I doubt I’m much of a marvel…at least not compared to you.”

“What do you mean?” He seemed taken aback.

“The guards told us about how you’re a Blood Shade legend, savior of the vampires. It all sounded very impressive.”

He looked away, almost as if he was disturbed by what I said.

I found that strange. After an accomplishment that massive, I would expect a guy to be proud, to gloat over it, to puff out his chest and have that look on his face letting everyone know that it was indeed him who did that. It’s definitely how Ben would’ve reacted. Not Derek.

“Savior of the vampires…” he scoffed. “I’m supposed to rule over our kind. They say my reign will bring the vampires true sanctuary. I’m not even sure if we deserve to get saved. After everything we did… After everything we’re doing…” He gave me a long, meaningful gaze and pulled his hand out of my grasp. “Look what we’re doing to you.”

To that, I didn’t know how to respond. I missed Ben so much. There wasn’t a waking moment since I got there that he wasn’t at the back of my mind, that I wasn’t wondering what he was thinking about or how he was dealing with my disappearance. I wondered how many of the humans they took here were separated from loved ones. To my relief, Derek didn’t seem to be interested in a response.

“My father was a farmer,” he began. “That’s what we did before we became this. We farmed wheat and grew vegetables. It was a humble existence, but we were happy. Then one night, my father and Lucas were out in the city to trade our goods. Vivienne and I went out for wood. When we returned, our mother was dead, her blood sucked dry.”

I swallowed hard as I listened and imagined how that would’ve felt.

“Vivienne swore it was a wild beast. They ridiculed me but I knew it was a vampire. I was just thirteen at the time, but I was so sure that a vampire murdered my mother, so I found a way to join the shadow hunters. For five years, I was one of them and I killed many, many vampires. So imagine my surprise when on my eighteenth birthday, my father came home and he was a vampire. I should’ve killed him. I really should’ve, but I couldn’t. He was still my father. He turned Lucas, Vivienne and me that night. I became the very creature that I hunted, the creature that I hated.”

“If you hate vampires so much, why fight to save them? Why establish the Blood Shade?”

“It was never about saving the vampires. The next hundred years after I was turned were all about saving my family. It just so happened that I couldn’t save them without also saving the others who helped us survive. I never thought that the Blood Shade would become what it is now.”

I couldn’t even begin to imagine what those years were like for him, how tormented he must have felt, but if he wanted me to acknowledge that he was a victim to his own existence, I wasn’t about to give him that. He was too strong, too powerful, and too influential to play the part of a victim.

“I’m sorry for what you had to go through, and I’m…honored that you would tell me these things, but you’re strong and you’re a leader – whether you like it or not. If anything, you seem to be the only one here who has the power to change things...for the better.”

“I don’t know how to do that.”

“Well, who ever said that you have to figure it all out tonight?”

I grabbed his hand, stood up and pulled him up. I don’t know what possessed me to do it, but I nudged him toward the larger couch, enjoying the curiosity in his eyes as I sat on the space beside him. I heaved a sigh before pulling his arm over my shoulder and snuggling against him.

“We’ve already had too much drama for one night, don’t you think?”

“True.” His tone seemed lighter, more relaxed as he ran his fingers over my bare shoulder. “Now that I’ve embarrassingly spilled my guts to you, perhaps it’s time you told me more about you.”

I groaned. “And delve into my drama? I don’t think so. Let’s spend tonight introducing you to today’s version of entertainment.”

I reached for the remote control and switched on the flat screen TV. I couldn’t help but smile at the fascination that sparked in his eyes.

“What on bloody earth is that?” he asked.

“A magic mirror,” I teased before explaining to him the best way I could what exactly a television set was. I asked if he wanted to watch a movie, recalling the extensive DVD collection we’d found earlier that night. I asked him to pick a movie and he returned with two interesting picks: Chicago and the Godfather. It was almost a reflection of the kind of person that he was – a musician and a killer whose loyalty to family stood above all else – either way, tormented, with darkness constantly looming over him.

Since I wasn’t up for watching either movie, I smiled, remembering his request and how Vivienne managed to have her minions see that it be done immediately. “I have a better idea.”

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