Roxanne Meyers

Overcome by my worst fears and feeling my heart hammer wildly in my chest, I got up from the bed where my daughter lay. My eyes frantically searched for something to defend us with until they landed on the porcelain lamp on the nightstand. I grabbed it with both hands and raised it, threateningly, pointing it directly at the older of the twins. I knew it was Kane; I had learned to tell them apart during the days I lived with Salvatore.

My hands trembled as I held the lamp, but my determination was unwavering. If I had to fight him, I would, no matter the cost. The...