Insatiable

never been shinier…or straighter.

I guess you don’t need a flat-iron when you’re dead, Meena thought.

“Yeah,” Shoshona said, strolling up to her. “It’s me. Hey…thanks for the bag.”

Meena lowered her gaze and saw that Shoshona was holding a Marc Jacobs jewelencrusted dragon tote.

In ruby.

Meena’s ruby red Marc Jacobs jewel-encrusted dragon tote, to be exact. The one Lucien

had given her.

Meena didn’t know what to say. A thousand different retorts popped into her head.

But she was too stunned to say any of them out loud.

“By the way,” Shoshona said, leaning in close to lay a long, manicured fingernail in the

opening of Meena’s white-collared shirt, just where her pulse was leaping in her throat. “Guess

who’s just been appointed the new cochairs of entertainment at Affiliated Broadcast

Network?”

Shoshona pointed over her shoulder at a middle-aged couple in business attire, who

waved enthusiastically in Meena’s direction.

Shoshona’s aunt and uncle.

Meena’s heart sank. Not Fran and Stan, too.

Everyone Meena knew really was turning out to be a vampire.

But cochairs of entertainment at ABN? How was that even possible ? All they’d ever

done was create a soap opera .

“Oh,” Shoshona said, tossing her long black silky hair. “And guess who they made

president of programming at the network?” She pointed proudly at herself. “And as my first

official duty in that capacity, I’m firing you, Meena. Sorry about that.”

“ What? ” Meena cried. She knew she had a few more important things in her life to

worry about than her job.

But her job was, in a way, her life. “What can I say?” Shoshona asked with a shrug. “We

don’t really appreciate people who are prejudiced against our species. Nor do we need them

making disparaging remarks about our so-called misogynistic tendencies.”

“Your species ?” Meena felt a spurt of white-hot anger dart through her. “Your species ?

Let me tell you something about your species and what I’ve seen you do to women—”

“That’s enough, Shoshona,” Dimitri said in the tone of a disapproving father as he

reached out to lay a hand on Meena’s shoulder and steer her away from the other girl. “I have

better uses for Miss Harper’s time now, I think. For instance…”

That’s when Meena finally saw the apse at the front of the church. The sanctuary,

debased with graffiti. The altar, up on the dais, broken into pieces. A statue of St. George,

pushed to the floor and missing its head.

And Leisha, sitting in the only pew that had been left upright, with her hands tied in front

of her and resting in her lap.

“Leish,” Meena cried, relief rushing over her. She jerked her shoulder out from beneath

Dimitri’s grip and raced to her friend’s side. “Are you all right?” Meena asked, kneeling down

beside her. “Did they hurt you?”

Leisha shook her head. Her cheeks were tear-stained, her eye makeup smudged. But

otherwise, she looked fine.

“I just want,” she whispered to Meena, “to get the hell out of here. I hate these people.

They’re freaks. That girl, Shoshona, from your office? You always told me she was a total

bitch, but I never knew how much of a bitch until tonight. And I still really have to pee.”

Meena choked back a sob. Leisha. Oh, Leisha.

“Okay,” Meena said. She reached for the cords that held Leisha’s wrists and began

untying them. “We’ll get you out of here.”

“What are they?” Leisha asked, eyeing Dimitri suspiciously over the top of Meena’s

head. “Like meth heads or something? You know that Gregory Bane guy from Lust bit Adam,

don’t you? He bit him.”

Leisha, with her usual common sense, had apparently chosen to ignore the explanation

Meena had given her over the phone about what was going on and come up with her own, one

that she could process and understand.

“Yes,” Meena said. “Yes, they’re meth heads.” She dropped her head to the knot that

was holding her friend’s hands tied together, trying to bite it apart with her teeth. She couldn’t

get it undone otherwise.

“Hey,” she said finally, raising her head, realizing the futility of what she was doing.

“Could someone give me a hand here and help me untie her? I fulfilled my part of the bargain.

I’m here. You said you’d let her go if I showed up. So could someone help me?”

She glanced up at Dimitri, only to find him grinning down at her with an expression on

his face that she didn’t like at all.

“Oh,” he said, “I can see why my brother likes you. You’re so…trusting.”

On the word trusting, he reached down, grabbed her by the arm, and yanked her back up

to her feet, almost in a single motion. The gesture was so violent and jarring, Meena saw stars

for a second or two.

“But I think we’re going to keep your little friend here for a while longer,” he said to her.

“Because having her around will make you more accommodating to my needs. And I still need

a few things from you, some of which I’d like to hurry up and get to before my brother comes

along and tries to spoil things, which he’s always had an unfortunate tendency to do.”

Dimitri hauled her, none too gently, into the sanctuary and up onto the dais, beside the

altar. Meena did not like the way the Dracul—including Shoshona and her aunt and uncle—

had gathered around, as if eager for a show that was about to start.

Nor did she like what she suddenly recognized sitting on the still upright part of the altar.

It was a bowl from Meena’s own apartment. The large antique one made of pewter her

great-aunt Wilhelmina had left her and that Meena never used because she was worried about

lead poisoning.

First the bag Lucien had given her. Then her job. Now her great-aunt’s bowl. What else

were the Dracul going to take from her?

“I understand you possess quite the power to predict the future, Meena Harper,” Dimitri

said in his deep voice.

Suddenly, Meena had a very bad feeling about what was about to happen.

Especially because of the way all of the Dracul were eyeing the holes Lucien had already

put in her neck—which were obvious to everyone because Meena had given Alaric the scarf

she’d been wearing to cover them—and then glancing down expectantly toward the large

silver-colored bowl. The hungry look in their eyes seemed to increase by a hundredfold.

Dimitri was right about one thing: Meena had always been good at predicting the future.

Other people’s futures.

Never her own.

Until now.

Meena looked up at Dimitri. He was staring down at her with those flat brown eyes, in

which she saw more than just a hint of blood red.

Then she glanced up at the enormous dragon symbol someone had spray-painted behind

the altar.

Ever since I left you this morning, Lucien had said to her last night in her bedroom, I’ve

had the oddest sensation that I know how almost every human I’ve come into contact with

is…is going to die…. I’ve never, ever experienced anything like this. Not until…well, being

with you.

Now, Meena knew exactly what the bowl was for…and why Dimitri had been so intent

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