ELENA'S POV He sat down across from me like we'd arranged this meeting weeks ago. No hesitation. No acknowledgment of the unconscious vampires scattered across the warehouse floor between us. He just pulled out the chair, settled into it, and looked at me with those gold eyes like we had all the time in the world. Maybe he thought he did. "You already know what I want," he said. "I do," I said. "And you know I'm going to get it." "You believe that," I said. "There's a difference." Something moved at the corner of his mouth. Almost a smile. "You're more composed than I expected. Given everything tonight." "I just took down two dozen of Morgana's best people," I said. "Compose is relative." He looked around the room then. Really looked, slowly, the way he did everything, like he was cataloguing rather than witnessing. The bodies. The cracked walls. The dead Bloodstone on the table between us. He looked at the Bloodstone for a long moment. "She actually tried it,"
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