The water couldn't get hot enough. She had the hot tap turned as far as it would go, and steam filled the small bathroom... but it wasn't hot enough. Rhia reached for the bottle with shaking hands and tipped it up to her lips. Some kind of alcohol made by the shifters burned her throat and warmed her insides. Still not hot enough. She could still feel the hospital on her skin. The smell had invaded her senses, no matter how much body wash she scoured her body with.

She looked at the crook of her elbow where the I.V. had been There was no visible mark. It had already healed. All the other little scars were gone too. But she could still feel it. Trading the bottle for a shrub brush, she dumped another glob of soap onto the invisible mark and scrubbed. Hard.

No more needles.

How many times had she begged?

No more needles!

Memories flashed before her eyes. Memories she'd thought she'd blocked out forever. Memories of doctors standing over her. Holding her down. Ignoring her screams, her cries, her begging. Injecting things into her. Drawing any number of fluids from her. Drilling into her bones.

No more. No more. No more.

Blood ran down her arm and dripped off her fingertips with the water. She pulled the brush away to look at the rough scratches left behind. As she watched, they stopped bleeding, closed, and vanished as if they were never there. That wasn't right. That couldn't be right. This was all so wrong. She wasn't... she couldn't be... for fuck's sake, the heritage tests were negative!

Dropping the brush, she grabbed the liquor again and leaned heavily against the white tile. What happened to her? How did this happen? She had been out for two days, but she was missing more than that. She closed her eyes and drank, willing herself to remember. Something. Anything.

Angry and frustrated, she slammed the bottle down and jumped when it shattered from the force. Glass scattered across the floor of the shower. Not trusting herself to not step on one of the razor-sharp shards, she reached out to shut off the water. Someone knocked on the door. "It's just me, Rhia," Nolan called. "I'm coming in." Steam flooded towards the opening door and she shivered. He took one look at the broken glass and worry crossed his face. "Are you okay?"

He grabbed a towel and helped her step out of the shower without cutting herself. His hands felt strange to her. Not in a bad way... but different than what she remembered. His skin was soft, and she could feel every crease of his palm and fingerprints. She could feel every ounce of his carefully reserved strength as they glided up her arms and guided her back into the bedroom. He sat her down on the edge of the bed and crouched in front of her, his hands resting on her knees.

An entirely different kind of heat flooded her body. It was hot enough to burn away all memory of the hospital. She wanted his hands on her. She needed him to touch her. She needed those masterful hands running up her legs. Finding that most sensitive spot and pleasuring her until-

"Rhia." She blinked and found herself staring into Nolan's stunning blue eyes. They were filled with concern. "You keep spacing out on me. Are you okay?"

She could feel herself losing focus of his words as he spoke. His mouth was perfect for kissing. Perfect for...

Rhia shook her head and scrubbed her eyes with the heels of her palm. "I'm fine." she said unconvincingly.

He reached up to stroke her cheek with his thumb and she leaned right into it. "How much of that bottle did you drink?" he whispered.

"Not enough." she groaned before looking at him again. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone. She could just reach out and touch him. He only needed to move a few inches closer for her to wrap her legs around him. He just needed to shed a few layers and- "Can I borrow your phone?" She cut over her own increasingly dirty thoughts.

"Sure. It's downstairs. Why?"

"I need to call Ian." It all came out in a rush. "I need to know what happened to me. The last thing I remember is talking to him at work and then waking up in the hospital. I can't remember anything between then and I need to know what happened. I need to know he's okay and I need... I need..."

"Okay, Rhia, breathe." Nolan waited until her breathing deepened again. "Ian is with his government right now. I have to go in for a Counsel meeting soon, so I'll ask for him to call, okay?" She nodded and he continued. "I did talk to your mom, though. She wants to see you. She's worried about you and she's upset she wasn't there when you woke up."

Rhia stood up sharply. "No. I don't want her to see me like this."

There was a pile of neatly folded clothes on the dresser, and she grabbed them, not even caring if they would fit. Nolan stood up slowly and watched her. She could feel his gaze on her, and it just made the heat between her legs that more intense. It was now getting uncomfortable. She shouldn't be horny at a time like this, it was so weird. The clothes mostly fit. The shorts were a bit too short for her liking and the tank top showed a bit more cleavage than she was normally comfortable with. That uncomfortably horny part of her brain seemed to purr. It liked the idea of Nolan seeing more of her.

"I need to talk to Cameron too."

She turned to face him again. Their eyes met and the air vanished from her lungs. His eyes were flickering red, not from anger but from the same lust that was slowly taking over her body. The dichotomy between what they were feeling and what they were talking about was strange enough to feature on goddamn Dr. Phil.

Nolan looked away and she could see his throat bob as he swallowed hard. "Sure." his voice was strained. "Can I ask why?"

"He helped me find a P.I. to look for my parents. I need to get a hold of them."

"You didn't tell me that."

"I didn't want to say anything unless it went somewhere. It doesn't matter now. They can stop looking."

He looked back at her and smiled, sending thrills through her every nerve. "They don't need to stop. They can work with the dr-"

Anger flared now, mixing uncomfortably with the other feelings swirling within her. "I don't want them to work together, I want them to stop. I don't want to know. I don't care anymore."

"Rhia-"

"Don't!" she snapped. "Don't Rhia me, Nolan, I don't want to know. Knowing isn't going to make any of this better!"

"Okay," he his shoulders slumped in defeat. "I'll... call Cameron."

"Thank you." She let out a heavy sigh. "I need a drink."

She tried to step past him for the door, but he shifted to block her way. He reached up to cradle her face in his hands, his thumbs grazing her jaw. Her eyes fluttered and the anger was gone in a flash. She grabbed onto his shirt at his waist for support, her legs feeling weak. "Rhia, I..."

He never finished. His voice faded to nothing as their eyes met again. She licked her dry lips and his eyes darted down to focus on them. They flickered red again and his breathing hitched. His tips of his fangs descended, and that fire erupted with new life inside her. She knew the kind of pleasure those fangs delivered. One bite and she would be back in that ecstasy. They could be there together. He had enjoyed it just as much as she did.

His kiss was lightning. Hot, and sharp, and she felt it through her whole body. She tugged his shirt out of his pants and slid her hands up his torso. Soft skin. Hard muscle. It was impossible to explain how badly she needed this man.

But he pulled away. He leaned his forehead against hers and panted heavily. "Atticus and Dáithí are downstairs." He breathed.

"I don't care." She whispered back and leaned harder into him. She didn't even recognize her own voice, she was so desperate.

Nolan held her back from kissing him again. "Yes, you do." He insisted. "Trust me, you don't want to do this while there are two other males listening in."

His words sank in slowly. Her head began to clear but her body continued to ache and burn for his touch. What the hell was wrong with her? She inhaled deeply and pulled her hands away from him. "Sorry," she gasped. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Nothing's wrong with you." He smiled. "Things are going to be tough for a while. But you're strong. You're going to get through this."

She frowned and looked down at her hands. "People kept saying that after what happened with Church. That I was strong. That I was going to make it to the other side."

"Okay?" he said slowly and cautiously.

She lifted a shoulder in a shrug. "The person before Church was happier. She laughed more often and found it easier to trust strangers. She didn't flinch at angry voices or jump at the sound of a slamming door. There's a part of me didn't survive Church."

"What's your point, Rhia?"

"Nothing," She shook her head. "I guess I'm just wondering what part I've lost this time."

She stepped around him to walk out the door and Nolan followed wordlessly after her.

The house was small with only two small bedrooms on the upper floor. The main floor held the small, but completely modern, kitchen and living room. Dáithí stood in the kitchen, looking through the cupboards for something. An enormous black man with perfectly white hair sat on the couch, making it look like a child's seat. "Rhia, this is Atticus Shaw." Nolan said when they were in view of the others. "Atticus, this is Rhia."

Atticus looked up at her from the couch, a lost look in his black eyes. "What's wrong with him?" she asked quietly.

"Don't mind him." Dáithí chuckled. "He's still recovering from the news that Nolan isn't who he said he was."

Rhia looked between the three males. Her heightened arousal had been tolerable when she was alone with Nolan, but this was uncomfortable. Especially since she couldn't figure out what Dáithí was doing here.

"Does Constantine know?" Atticus looked to Nolan, a hint of desperation in his voice.

"No," Nolan sighed. "And he can never know. Even Luna understands that. If Constantine knows he can turn yfeerie into vampires, he will never stop hunting them."

"Constantine..." Rhia muttered. The males all looked at her. "Constantine was... at my work..."

She scrubbed her eyes fiercely, desperately trying to shine a light into the black hole that was her memory. Paper white skin and blood red eyes flashed before her eyes. A mouth full of fangs and a silky, condescending tone.

One little bite. One little sip.

"He wanted to... He called it a compromise... I called you."

She rushed into the kitchen, ripped open the liquor cabinet she found earlier and took out the first bottle she could reach. Her hands were shaking so hard she couldn't break the seal. Dáithí appeared in front of her and took it from her. She looked up into his eyes and shivered. She had never really thought about his looks before now. Since Church, she had a hard time finding blond males attractive... but now... his hands were big enough to wrap entirely around her waist. His body was wide enough to cage her under him. His hips were...

She forced herself to look away and focus on what Nolan was saying. "...the point is, he's going to lose all interest in you now that you're awakening. He knows he can't screw around with the kin, bound or otherwise. Luna is more than enough dragon to keep him busy."

Dáithí handed her the opened bottle, never once looking away from her. She took it, careful not to touch his hand or meet his eyes again and shuffled back to Nolan's side and taking a huge gulp of the hard liquor. There was something very wrong with her. "Your girl's got the right idea." Atticus muttered. "I wasn't expecting this."

Rhia offered him the bottle and he shook his head. "Ask and you shall receive." Nolan shrugged. "I told you. You don't want this truth."

"The dragons aren't going to come after me for knowing this, right?"

"Keep it to yourself, they won't care. If you ever try to use it against them, pray that it's Quin who comes after you. He'll make your death quick and painless."

"Gods," Atticus couldn't seem to keep his jaw closed. "We've been calling you yfeerie all these years thinking it's a title of honour."

"Luna thinks it's hilarious."

Two phones started to beep. Nolan crossed the room to his coat while Atticus pulled his phone out of his pocket. "They're calling us in early." The shifter said and stood.

Rhia's eyes widened at the full height of the man. The things he could do to her...

Pull yourself together! She scolded herself and took another drink. She had Nolan. Nolan was everything she should want or need. Why was she fantasizing about the other men in the room?

Nolan's hand landed on her shoulder, making her jump. He raised an eyebrow. "What is going on in that head of yours?" he asked softly. "You never space out like this."

"I'm okay." She answered automatically.

"I'll be gone for a few hours without any cell service. Are you sure you don't want to call your mom or your brother?"

"I'm sure."

He hesitated, seemingly unwilling to leave her. "If you need anything..."

"I'm here." Dáithí cut in.

Nolan glared at him before continuing. "The phone connects straight to Atticus's people. They'll get you anything you need."

She nodded, not trusting herself not to cry. She wanted to beg him to stay. She didn't trust herself. Her body was acting in ways she couldn't control. It scared her.

He kissed her forehead before following Atticus out the door. A heavy silence filled the house. Rhia took a long drink. Her hands were shaking again. "You alright?" Dáithí asked from his spot in the kitchen.

"I really need people to stop asking me that." She muttered with the bottle at her lips.

"We'll stop asking when you stop drinking whiskey straight from the bottle."

The room was too small. The air was thick and stuffy. She needed air. She turned on her heel and raced for the back door. There was a pool, but she rushed past the tiles to the open field beyond. Knee-high grasses stretched out in rolling hills before ending in clear blue skies and the glassy surface of the Pacific Ocean. She could fell Dáithí following her. "You can go." She called. "I don't need a babysitter."

"Yes, you do." He said simply.

"Why you?" She spun to face him. "Why..." As she met his eyes again, a few more memories flooded back to her. "You were there." She gasped. "At the mall... At my work. There were kids missing. Those... things... attacked us..."

"Demons."

"Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my-"

The bottle exploded in her hand, fire swirling up in a column of red and orange. She jumped away, her back slamming into Dáithí's chest that was suddenly there. One heavily muscled arm wrapped around her waist while his other hand grabbed the forearm that had been holding the liquor. "Don't be afraid of the flames."

His lips were at her ear, just barely grazing the sensitive flesh. His voice was hot and husky. Shivers of pleasure cascaded down her spine and straight to her core, reigniting the desperate need that had been lying just under the surface. She knew this was inappropriate. She knew she should push away. She knew she shouldn't let him touch her like this. Her body was frozen. It wouldn't respond.

"The fire is a part of you. It can't hurt you."

Slowly, he moved her hand back into the flames. It was hot. But it didn't hurt. The flames caressed her fingers, dancing between the spaces, and soothing her wild nerves. She stared at it, fascinated.

"This is your magic." He whispered. "Your power. You have control of this." His hand began to slide up her wrist, the rough pads of his fingertips sending little jolts of lightning up her arm. "You don't want to hurt me, do you, little bird?"

She shook her head. She couldn't speak. Her head was foggy. The alcohol, the magic, her uncontrollable lust... It was overwhelming and she didn't trust herself to say anything. His hand reached hers in the fire. She could feel his heart slamming against her back. He didn't burn and she let out a breathless laugh.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" he purred.

She tilted her head back and up to look at him. His eyes were focused entirely on her own. His lips were a breath away from kissing her. Her eyes fluttered. Do it, a voice whispered in her head. Kiss me.

Panic flooded her system again. "What are you doing to me?!" she screamed, shoving him back and taking several steps back. Flames shot up from the ground in a circle around her. "Stop it!"

"I'm not doing anything you don't want me to do."

If he meant for the words to be comforting, it didn't work. They resonated in her head, reminding her of all the things Church used to say to her.

Church. Church lying on the ground in the dark. His chest ripped open and bloody. A snarling creature attacking her and Dáithí and Nova.

Dáithí was calling her name as the flames grew higher around her.

They were dead. They were all dead. There was no way they could have survived. They were dead because of her.

A cruel smirk on a half-melted face flashed before her eyes. It's time to wake up!

She clutched at her head, willing her memories to go dark once again. A sheering ice-hot pain shot through her skull and she screamed. Dáithí's voice flooded her mind, clear as day over the rushing fire. "Rhia," he said. "You need to calm down."

"I can't!" she wailed, pulling at her hair. "I can't, I can't, I-"

"Yes, you can. Open your eyes and look at me." She peeled her eyes open to find his. "That's it, little bird. Now breathe. Breathe with me."

His chest expanded in a breath and she sucked in a shallow gasp.

"Good girl." he soothed. "Again."

She gasped again, deeper this time. And then a third, even deeper breath. The flames began to flicker out. "I can't do this." She whimpered, the tears finally spilling over and making tracks through the soot gathering on her cheeks. "I can't do this. I can't... be this..."

"You can, little bird." He promised, stepping into the smoldering circle to take her shoulders. "You've got me. You're not alone."

"Why do you keep calling me that?" she sniffed and looked up at him. "Little bird?"

He smirked down at her. "Because you're tiny and helpless."

She scowled and pushed his chest hard enough to take a step away and break contact again. "I will have you know that I am five foot seven and a half inches."

"It's that half inch that really makes a difference, isn't it?"

"That's like... three inches taller than average."

"For human women, maybe. Still pretty short for a dragonkin."

She threw a fist, aiming for his chest but lost her balance and started to tip wildly to the side. The alcohol finally hit, and it hit hard. Dáithí's thick arm wrapped around her waist and lifted her up into his arms. She blinked away the wave of dizziness and exhaustion and stared up at him. His sandy eyes were glowing slightly and glistening with emotion she was too drunk to understand.

He carried her back into the house and up the stairs to the bedroom. He sat with his back against the headboard and settled her in his lap, cradling her head against his chest and running his hand through her hair. "He's going to hate me." Her lip trembled.

He paused in his caress. "Who?"