Moth glared from behind her shades. “You’re late.”

“And your manners haven’t improved.”

“I was in Boston, Theo. Not a finishing school for naughty girls.”

Theo raised his dark eyebrows and grinned his wicked pirate-smile. “Now there’s an idea …”

Moth pushed the sunglasses up onto her head, balancing them among the thick black waves of her long hair. She knew that her silver eyes would be glowing brightly in recognition of her sire, but she couldn’t bring herself to show him how happy she really was to see him. He hadn’t earned that right—not since the day, ten years ago, when he’d stolen her innocence and made her a monster.

He reached out for the shades and snatched them before she could stop him. “Why are you wearing these ridiculous things?”

“My eyes keep glowing and the contacts hurt.” She nodded up at the moon. “It’s almost full.”

“You haven’t been feeding.” Theo’s tone was filled with reproach. “If you had, you wouldn’t have this problem.” His own eyes were currently light gray, his vampire nature hidden behind centuries of rigid control.

Moth glared. “I’ve fed more than enough.”

He sniffed. “From blood banks. It’s hardly the same thing.”

“You said you wouldn’t push me on this.”

“I haven’t pushed you on your eating habits for almost a decade. Perhaps I should start.”

She scuffed her boot on the ground, deciding that a change of subject might be a good idea. “Why are we standing out here, anyway?”

Theo leaned against the wall and pushed his hands into the pockets of his custom-made jacket. His black hair was shorter than she remembered it, the curls resting neatly around his ears and stopping short of his collar. People often took them for family, which amused Theo. He liked to pretend she was his little sister—it gave him a sick charge.