She pressed a hand to her forehead. "I–I didn't mean…"
"To make me ache for you? Tell me, Vanda, did you ever feel anything? Did you really care about me, or were you just being a cold-blooded bitch?"
With a gasp, she pulled her hand back and slapped him. "Get out!"
He rubbed his jaw and smiled. "I guess you're not too cold-blooded."
She pointed at the door. "Leave!"
He considered taunting her some more. God knew she deserved it after torturing him for five long years. But he noticed her hand was trembling and her eyes glimmered with unshed tears.
Now he felt like a dog. He'd only wanted to turn the tables on her and give her a taste of her own "harmless flirtation." He hadn't meant to hurt her.
He trudged toward the door, where he paused with his hand on the doorknob. "You've always intrigued me, Vanda. From the moment I met you. I could never figure out why a free-spirited woman would confine herself to a harem. What were you hiding from? And why would a rebellious, beautiful woman flirt with the one man she considered safe?"
She folded her arms and gave him a wary look. "So now you want to analyze me, Doctor Phil?"
He smiled slowly. "I want to do a lot of things to you, Vanda. You see, with me, you made one big mistake. I was never safe."
Vanda stood alone in her office, blinking back tears. Dammit, she wouldn't cry. She was tough. But she'd made Phil suffer. She'd never intended to do that. How could a little harmless fun go so wrong?
She circled the desk and collapsed in her chair. He'd seen right through her. He'd known she was bored out of her skull. When she'd first joined the harem in 1948, she'd welcomed the peace and serenity. But over time, boredom had set in, and she'd been desperate for a diversion.
Poor Phil had seemed safe. It was against the rules for him to fraternize with her. He'd made it clear from the start that he would honor the rules.
And she'd tortured him.
She bent her head and rested it on her hands. The coffin tucked away in the shadows of her mind slowly creaked open. Mental pictures floated out.
Mama, who had died in 1935 when Vanda was eighteen.
Frieda, her youngest sister, who died four years later when they fled from the Nazis. Frieda, with her chestnut curls and big blue eyes.
Jozef, her baby brother, who at the age of twelve insisted on joining his father and three older brothers to fight the incoming invasion. Vanda's eyes stung with tears. Jozef with his black curly hair and laughing, blue eyes. He'd marched off to war so proudly. And she never saw him again. A tear rolled down her cheek.
Ian had always reminded her of Jozef. She hadn't meant to become attached to Ian, but he'd slowly started to symbolize all the brothers she had lost. And she'd come so close to losing Ian last December. Ever since the battle at DVN, her nerves had been on edge.
More pictures drifted out of the coffin. Papa and her three other brothers—Bazyli, Krystian, and Stefan. Fuzzy and unclear.
A sob escaped. Oh God, she couldn't remember their faces. Her shoulders shook. How could she forget? After Mama died, she'd taken care of all her brothers and sisters. They'd been her entire life. How could she forget?
She squeezed her eyes shut. No! She wouldn't do this. She didn't need to punish herself just because she felt guilty for tormenting Phil. Mentally, she shoved all the pictures back into the coffin and slammed the lid shut.
She wouldn't let herself think about the past. How she'd lost everyone she loved. Her parents, her brothers, her sister. Even Karl, her first love and leader of the underground resistance.
All gone.
She took a deep, shuddering breath and wiped the tears from her face. She should have never flirted with Phil. He was a mortal with a short life. If she fell for him, she would only lose him, too.
It didn't matter that he intrigued her and excited her. It didn't matter that she wanted his arms around her, comforting her. It didn't matter that she admired his strength and intelligence. Or that she was so tired of being alone.
Screams erupted from the club, jerking her back to reality. What now?
"Vanda!" Terrance flung the door open. "Max the Mega Member just teleported in. He says you're going to die!"
CHAPTER 4
Vanda strode into the club, whip in hand, her eyes adjusting to the dim lighting. Only a handful of customers remained. The others must have teleported away at the first sign of danger. The remaining customers were crowded in a circle, gossiping with hushed voices.
"He's so incredibly strong," a female Vamp whispered to her friend.