He glanced down, tilting his head slightly, and gazed back at her. “Well, would you look at that? No reflection. Just like downstairs.”

Moth wanted to kick out at him so desperately she could taste it, but he stayed just out of reach. He threw the mirror down and grasped the crossbow in both hands, pointing it higher, this time at her forehead.

Taking a deep breath, Moth tried to catch his eye in just the right way. If she could snare him in her gaze, she might be able to weaken his will enough to get him to free her.

Jace shook his head. “Uh, uh, no you don’t little vampire.” He produced her sunglasses from the pocket of his jeans and slowly approached her from the side. “Stay right there like a good girl. I think you’ll look a lot better in these, when you can’t use those pretty eyes on me.”

Infuriating as it was, Moth could do nothing as he placed the shades awkwardly over her eyes. One side wasn’t sitting properly over her ear, but that was because she struggled despite the crossbow pointing at her head. Surely if he really wanted her dead, she’d already be a pile of ash. Moth tried to tell herself that. It helped.

And, bizarre as it sounded—even to herself—Jace Murdoch didn’t seem like such a bad guy. Well, if you didn’t count the fact that he’d shot her with a tranquilizer dart (or something like it) and then tied her up in the toughest silver she’d ever heard of. And if you ignored the fact that he was holding a crossbow with the razor-sharp bolt locked and loaded.

Right.

Moth bared her fangs and hissed as he backed away, always keeping her in his line of sight. What the hell; might as well go for the whole vampire-show, see if she could shake his confidence.

He assumed his position back in the chair, seeming unaffected by her fangs. She couldn’t help thinking that she probably looked sort of comical, tied up and helpless and wearing a pair of tacky oversized shades.