I shot upright on the bed and just as quickly regretted it. My neck hurt, my back hurt, I felt like I was going to throw up . . . at least I was sitting.

"You did it to yourself," the vampire told me darkly. "Grab your wallet and wait there. Don't move."

Through the wave of nausea, I registered my leather wallet and a haphazard array of identification, cards, and cash by the headboard. I pressed shaky fingers to my temples. "My key?"

"Finders keepers," he said smugly.

Uh-huh, not when I had a cousin working in criminal law.

My car wasn't anything special. My parents had bought it for me as a graduation present. It was far from dilapidated and actually kept in as good of a condition as I could manage, but this guy wouldn't be making a profit off it. Its only use as a joyride would be to impress a special young lady with the impression that the owner was thrifty and well-meaning.

Well-meaning this vampire was not. Thrifty, though . . . this probably wasn't the only sparse room in his abode. Or worse—what if he rented out a bedroom? Some predator of the night that would be.

My gentle massage helped tone the pain down to something bearable. I looked at the handsome vampire again. "What name should I put on the new title?"

His expression told me that my sarcasm had not carried through into my voice.

"What's your name?" I tried again, this time ignoring the key in his hand (what good would whining about it do? I'd wait until the settlement) and forcing my eyes to open a bit wider. I was blessed with hooded eyes. I wasn't trying to seduce the man, just show him that I wasn't asleep. Bonus points if he answered.

"Do you have brain damage?" he asked in reply. "Your keepers are coming up my stairs. Just shut up for a minute."

If shutting up would keep my throat from burning, I was fine with that. I waited quietly.

Moody teenage vampire prowled out of the room a minute later and opened a door a few feet down the hall. I sighed, flinched at yet more throat pain, and stayed still. Five seconds was not enough time to make an escape. I probably couldn't even stand up without a few minutes to reorient myself. Dumb gravity.

I refused to admit that I'd only made it to the bed in the first place because the vampire teen had caught me.

"She's in here," my vampire told my upcoming captor. "I had her stay on the bed."

Right, because his stay had referred to the length of time I'd been on this bed.

There were no footsteps. My vampire and his acquaintance, Gerard's henchman, glided in through the doorway.

The new guy was even taller than the teenage heartthrob. Also balder. He had colorless eyes and a face of the same description. "Get up," he said. Ooh, his voice was like gravel. How did his throat handle that?

I tried to get up, kind of. I didn't put much heart into it.

The monochrome man sighed. "Damian, you idiot."

I knew it, I knew it! Cliche appearance, cliche name! I'd been holding out for Edward, but this was in my top five. Really, did all of the authors have to draw from the same hat?

"Don't struggle and I won't suffocate you into unconsciousness," the new man said next, and walked up to my bed and neatly scooped me up. He held me tightly enough that I didn't dare to move, although his arm under my thighs made me want to. He glided to the door. Sure enough, it was a small apartment, and identified Damien as a dirt-poor supernatural creature.

"Damian, by the way, this isn't Linda, Melanie, or any of the others. Turning her in was a wise idea. If Gerard ever finds you hiding a youngblood, I won't be coming for her."