My eyelids popped open. Everything blurred while only a stone ceiling came into focus. Can't remember a damn thing. Why? Where am I? I gasped, flailed my arms, kicked at empty air and lurched upright. I twisted about looking for something, anything that would help me make sense of this. I quieted as my vision cleared. Within a huge red room, scary Gothic paintings lined the walls and candles glowed in every corner. A sectional sofa arched around a coffee table. Persian rugs scattered a polished floor and a bed nestled inside an alcove several feet away. And I sat on a round bed that was so enormous the edge seemed miles off. Silken sheets—the color of blood—swathed my waist. Jagged shadows danced in crevices but one of them enlarged, smoothed and took on a man's shape. "Bon jour." He approached, flashed a white smile graced by attractive lips. Strangely, his incisors looked a little too long. He wore an ebony silk robe. The hood obscured most of his face, the rest shrouded by shadows.
