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How the fuck am I gonna get out of this one?

Light catches one of the jewels set deep into the cup's rim, and I stare at it for a long moment, some part of my brain that's still functioning outside the terror noting that it's not a ruby, that it's not one of the blood-red gems. But this one? This one is a deep, deep blue, the same color as the ring on my finger.

And in it reflected, an eye looks back at me. An eye the same shade as my own, and yet I know without a doubt it's not mine.

Use your magic.

I hear the voice in my head, so unlike my own, so alien, that I have no doubt at all that what I'm hearing in my head is not mine at all.

Use my magic? How am I supposed to use my magic? On Julian? On the cup? On whatever's in the cup.

That’s it.

Use the magic on whatever the fuck is in this cup. Of course, of course. Nullification magic. I don't know how to channel it, that's the problem.

"Go on, then. You're holding everything up. The party can't get started until the guest of honor drinks from the cup," Julian says, sounding every bit as outraged as his Southern drawl will allow him.

Which is terrifying, actually.

"Of course, of course," I say. "I just like to, uh, say a prayer before I drink from any cups," I manage to stammer out, knowing I sound as idiotic as I possibly can, and also not giving one goddamn damn.

Because you know what? If sounding idiotic is what keeps me alive tonight, then so fucking be it. I'm not an idiot. And frankly, if House Sanguine thinks I am, all the better.

"I'm sure that you know all about saying thanks before you eat," I say, making my eyes as wide and stupid-looking as possible as I blink guilelessly up at him.

The vampires and mages all around me burst out into laughter, which is exactly what I wanted.

"Darling, we do not give thanks before we sink our teeth into the flesh of our victims. Can you imagine how strange and outlandish that would be?" Julian says, causing the rest of the vampires and mages of House Sanguine to laugh even more.

Distracted, I do my best to focus on the liquid swirling on its own in the cup in my hand. Nullification powe. I concentrate as hard as I can, feeling angry, feeling scared, and letting those emotions guide me. The Jedi might not approve, but they're not the fuck here right now.

Something about that makes me laugh, and all of a sudden, I feel it. The minute I let the laugh out, I feel my magic swirling up inside of me—an energy that makes me feel nauseous and hungry all at once, like it's craving more, faster. And yet it's still not enough. I'm not scared enough. The vampire in front of me is a threat, yes, but not an immediate one. Not like the vampire in the bookstore. But this drink in front of me—this drink I'm supposed to drink—this is what's going to kill me. This is the threat.

I focus on the swirling, blood-colored liquid in the chalice.

And all of a sudden, something tears out of me. A blinding headache begins behind my eyes, throbbing painfully in time with my heart. The magic pours into the chalice, invisible, and somehow I have no doubt at all that it's there and it's doing exactly what I need it to do to nullify what the fuck ever is inside this cup.

The liquid stops churning, slowly swirling to a halt, until it's nothing more than an inert glass of what looks to be water.

"You're trying our patience. It's very rude to come into another person's home and not accept a drink under their roof. What kind of host would we be if we did not⁠—"

He stops talking as I lift the cup to my mouth and take a long draught, my throat working as I swallow the entire contents.

Behind me, Lachlan's completely still, his hands trembling where they have gripped my waist. And I can feel his fear, as sharp and painful as the headache driving like nails into my brain. An ice pick of pure, physical horror.

Heat drives through my wrist, where the handfasting knot ties me to Lachlan, and I hope like hell I’m offloading the magic to him, and that I won’t kill either one of us in the process.

I hate that my hands shake as I grit my teeth through the awful pain and bare my teeth right back at Julian as I pass him back the empty cup.

His grin widens, and I resist the urge to clap both of my shaking hands over my eyes. The light in House Sanguine, dim as it is, is too much for my eyes right now. Something warm and wet dribbles down to my lip, and I lick it reflexively only to taste blood.

Julian's sneer turns into a snarl.

"Well, that is interesting indeed," he says slowly. "Interesting indeed."

"Let the girl go."

A querulous old voice sounds from behind Julian, and a claw-like hand emerges at his waist, stiletto-length nails in burnished red with black tips catching my eye before the owner of the voice emerges.