I turned on the guy holding me. I don’t think he expected a girl my size to put up so much of a fight, plus he was still kind of stunned over what had happened to the other guy and the gun. I managed enough room to get in a kick to his stomach, a kick that would have earned me an A in my combat class. He grunted at the impact, and the motion propelled him back into the wall. In a flash, I was on him. Grabbing a fistful of his hair, I slammed his head against the ground hard enough to knock him out but not kill him.
Immediately, I sprang up, surprised the leader hadn’t come after me yet. It shouldn’t have taken him that long to recover from the shock of the heated gun. But when I turned around, the room was quiet. The leader lay unconscious on the ground—with a newly freed Mason hovering over him. Nearby, Christian held the pliers in one hand and the gun in the other. It had to still be hot, but Christian’s power must have made him immune. He was aiming at that man I’d stabbed. The guy wasn’t unconscious, merely bleeding, but, like I had, he froze beneath that barrel.
“Holy shit,” I muttered, taking in the scene. Staggering over to Christian, I held out my hand. “Give me that before you hurt somebody.”
I expected a biting remark, but he simply handed the gun over with shaking hands. I shoved it into my belt. Studying him further, I saw how pale he was. He looked like he could collapse at any moment. He’d done some pretty major magic for someone who’d been starved for two days.
“Mase, get the cuffs,” I said. Without turning his back on the rest of us, Mason took a few steps back toward the box where our captors had kept their stash of flex-cuffs. He pulled out three strips of plastic and then something else. With a questioning glance at me, he held up a roll of duct tape.
“Perfect,” I said.
We bound our captors to the chairs. One had remained conscious, but we knocked him out too and then put duct tape over all their mouths. They’d eventually come to, and I didn’t want them making any noise.
After releasing Mia and Eddie, the five of us huddled together and planned our next move. Christian and Eddie could barely stand, but at least Christian was aware of his surroundings. Mia’s face was streaked with tears, but I suspected she’d be able to take orders. That left Mason and me as the most functional in the group.
“That guy’s watch says it’s morning,” he said. “All we’ve got to do is get outside, and they can’t touch us. As long as there are no more humans, at least.”
“They said Isaiah was gone,” said Mia in a small voice. “We should just be able to leave, right?”
“Those men haven’t left in hours,” I said. “They could be wrong. We can’t do anything stupid.”
Carefully, Mason opened the door to our room and peered out into the empty hallway. “Think there’s a way outside down here?”
“That’d make our lives easier,” I muttered. I glanced back at the others. “Stay here. We’re going to check out the rest of the basement.”
“What if somebody comes?” exclaimed Mia.
“They won’t,” I assured her. I was actually pretty sure there was no one else in the basement; they would have come running with all that racket. And if anyone tried to come down the stairs, we would hear them first.
Still, Mason and I moved cautiously as we scouted around the basement, watching each other’s backs and checking around corners. It was every bit the rat’s maze I remembered from our initial capture. Twisted hallways and lots of rooms. One by one, we opened each door. Every room was empty, save for the occasional chair or two. I shuddered, thinking that all of these were probably used as prisons, just as ours had been.
“Not a goddamned window in this whole place,” I muttered when we’d finished our sweep. “We’ve got to go upstairs.”
We headed back toward our room, but before we got there, Mason caught hold of my hand. “Rose . . .”
I stopped and looked up at him. “Yeah?”
His blues eyes—more serious than I’d ever seen them— looked down at me regretfully. “I really screwed things up.”
I thought about all the events that had led to this. “We screwed things up, Mason.”
He sighed. “I hope . . . I hope when this is all done, we can sit down and talk and figure things out. I shouldn’t have gotten mad at you.”
I wanted to tell him that that wasn’t going to happen, that when he’d disappeared, I’d actually been on my way to tell him things wouldn’t be better between us. Since this didn’t seem like the right time or place to bring up a breakup, I lied.
I squeezed his hand. “I hope so too.”
He smiled, and we returned to the others.
“All right,” I told them. “Here’s how it’s going to be.”
We quickly hashed out a plan and then crept up the stairs. I led, followed by Mia as she tried to support a reluctant Christian. Mason brought up the rear, practically dragging Eddie.
“I should be first,” Mason murmured as we stood at the top of the stairs.
“You aren’t,” I snapped back, resting my hand on the doorknob.
“Yeah, but if something happens—”
“Mason,” I interrupted. I stared at him hard, and suddenly, I had a brief flash of my mother that day when the Drozdov attack had broken. Calm and controlled, even in the wake of something so horrible. They’d needed a leader, just like this group did now, and I tried as hard as I could to channel her. “If something happens, you get them out of here. Run fast and run far. Do not come back without a herd of guardians.”
“You’ll be the one who gets attacked first! What am I supposed to do?” he hissed. “Leave you?”
“Yes. You forget about me if you can get them out.”
“Rose, I’m not going to—”
“Mason.” I again envisioned my mother, fighting for that strength and power to lead others. “Can you do this or not?”
We stared at each other for several heavy moments while the others held their breaths.
“I can do this,” he said stiffly. I nodded and turned back around.
The basement door squeaked when I opened it, and I grimaced at the sound. Scarcely daring to breathe, I stood perfectly still at the top of the stairs, waiting and listening. The house and its eccentric decorating looked the same as when we’d been brought in. Dark blinds covered all of the windows, but along the edges, I could see bright light peeping in. Sunshine had never tasted so sweet as it did at that moment. Getting to it meant freedom.
There were no sounds, no movements. Looking around, I tried to remember where the front door was. It was on the other side of the house—really not far in the grand scheme of things but a gaping chasm at the moment.
“Scout with me,” I whispered to Mason, hoping to make him feel better about bringing up the rear.
He let Eddie lean on Mia for a moment and stepped forward with me to do a quick sweep of the main living area. Nothing. The path was clear from here to the front door. I exhaled in relief. Mason took hold of Eddie again, and we moved forward, all of us tense and nervous. God. We were going to do this, I realized. We were really going to do this. I couldn’t believe how lucky we’d gotten. We’d been so close to disaster—and had just barely made it through. It was one of those moments that made you appreciate your life and want to turn things around. A second chance you swear you won’t let go to waste. A realization that—
I heard them move almost at the same time I saw them step in front of us. It was like a magician conjured Isaiah and Elena out of thin air. Only, I knew there was no magic involved this time. Strigoi just moved that quickly. They must have been in one of the other main floor rooms that we’d assumed were empty—we hadn’t wanted to waste the extra time looking. I raged at myself internally for not having checked out every inch of the whole floor. Somewhere, in the back of my memory, I heard myself taunting my mother in Stan’s class: “It seems to me like you guys messed up. Why didn’t you scope out the place and make sure it was clear of Strigoi in the first place? Seems like you could have saved yours
elf a lot of trouble.”
Karma’s a real bitch.
“Children, children,” crooned Isaiah. “This isn’t how the game works. You’re breaking the rules.” A cruel smile played over his lips. He found us amusing, no real threat at all. Honestly? He was right.
“Fast and far, Mason,” I said in low voice, never taking my eyes off the Strigoi.
“My, my . . . if looks could kill . . .” Isaiah arched his eyebrows as something occurred to him. “Are you thinking you can take us both on by yourself?” He chuckled. Elena chuckled. I gritted my teeth.
No, I didn’t think I could take them both on. In fact, I was pretty sure I was going to die. But I was also pretty sure I could provide one hell of a distraction first.
I lunged toward Isaiah but pulled the gun on Elena. You could get a jump on human guards—but not on Strigoi. They saw me coming practically before I even moved. They didn’t expect me to have a gun, though. And while Isaiah blocked my attacking body with almost no effort whatsoever, I still managed to get a shot off at Elena before he seized my arms and restrained me. The gun’s report rang loud in my ears, and she screamed in pain and surprise. I’d aimed for her stomach but had been jostled into hitting her thigh. Not that it mattered. Neither spot would kill her, but the stomach would have hurt a lot more.
Isaiah held my wrists so hard, I thought he’d break the bones. I dropped the gun. It hit the floor, bounced, and slid toward the door. Elena shrieked in rage and clawed at me. Isaiah told her to control herself and pushed me out of reach. All the while, I flailed as much as possible, not so much to escape as to make a nuisance of myself.
And then: the sweetest of sounds.
The front door opening.
Mason had taken advantage of my distraction. He’d left Eddie with Mia and sprinted around me and the grappling Strigoi to open the door. Isaiah turned with that lightning-fast speed of his—and screamed as sunlight poured over him. But even though he was suffering, his reflexes were still fast. He jerked himself out of the patch of light into the living room, dragging Elena and me with him—her by the arm and me by my neck.
“Get them out!” I yelled.
“Isaiah—” began Elena, breaking out of his grip.
He shoved me to the floor and spun around, staring at his escaping victims. I gasped for breath now that his grip on my throat was gone and peered back at the door through the tangle of my hair. I was just in time to see Mason drag Eddie over the threshold, out into the safety of the light. Mia and Christian were already gone. I nearly wept in relief.
Isaiah turned back on me with all the fury of a storm, his eyes black and terrible as he loomed over me from his great height. His face, which had always been scary, became something almost beyond comprehension. “Monstrous” didn’t even begin to cover it.
He jerked me up by my hair. I cried out at the pain, and he brought his head down so that our faces were pressed up to one another’s.
“You want a bite, girl?” he demanded. “You want to be a blood whore? Well, we can arrange that. In every sense of the word. And it will not be sweet. And it will not be numbing. It will be painful—compulsion works both ways, you know, and I will make sure you believe you are suffering the worst pain of your life. And I will also make sure your death takes a very, very long time. You will scream. You will cry. You will beg me to end it all and let you die—”
“Isaiah,” cried Elena in exasperation. “Just kill her already. If you’d done it sooner like I said, none of this would have happened.”
He kept his grip on me but flicked his eyes toward her. “Do not interrupt me.”
“You’re being melodramatic,” she continued. Yeah, she really was whiny. I never would have thought a Strigoi could do that. It was almost comical. “And wasteful.”
“Do not talk back to me, either,” he said.
“I’m hungry. I’m just saying you should—”
“Let her go, or I’ll kill you.”
We all turned at the new voice, a voice dark and angry. Mason stood in the doorway, framed in light, holding my dropped gun. Isaiah studied him for a few moments.
“Sure,” Isaiah finally said. He sounded bored. “Try it.”
Mason didn’t hesitate. He fired and kept firing until he’d emptied the entire clip into Isaiah’s chest. Each bullet made the Strigoi flinch a little, but otherwise, he kept standing and holding on to me. This was what it meant to be an old and powerful Strigoi, I realized. A bullet in the thigh hurt a young vampire like Elena. But for Isaiah? Getting shot in the chest multiple times was simply a nuisance.
Mason realized this too, and his features hardened as he threw down the gun.
“Get out!” I screamed. He was still in the sun, still safe.
But he didn’t listen to me. He ran toward us, out of his protective light. I redoubled my struggles, hoping I’d pull Isaiah’s attention away from Mason. I didn’t. Isaiah shoved me into Elena before Mason was halfway to us. Swiftly, Isaiah blocked and seized hold of Mason, exactly as he’d done to me earlier.
Only, unlike with me, Isaiah didn’t restrain Mason’s arms. He didn’t jerk Mason upright by the hair or make long, rambling threats about an agonizing death. Isaiah simply stopped the attack, grabbed Mason’s head with both hands, and gave a quick twist. There was a sickening crack. Mason’s eyes went wide. Then they went blank.
With an impatient sigh, Isaiah released his hold and tossed Mason’s limp body over toward where Elena held me. It landed before us. My vision swam as nausea and dizziness wrapped around me.
“There,” Isaiah said to Elena. “See if that’ll tide you over. And save some for me.”
TWENTY-TWO
HORROR AND SHOCK CONSUMED ME, so much so that I thought my soul would shrivel, that the world would end right then and there—because surely, surely it couldn’t keep going on after this. No one could keep going on after this. I wanted to shriek my pain to the universe. I wanted to cry until I melted. I wanted to sink down beside Mason and die with him.
Elena released me, apparently deciding I posed no danger positioned as I was between her and Isaiah. She turned toward Mason’s body.
And I stopped feeling. I simply acted.
“Don’t. Touch. Him.” I didn’t recognize my own voice.
She rolled her eyes. “Good grief, you’re annoying. I’m started to see Isaiah’s point—you do need to suffer before dying.” Turning away, she knelt down to the floor and flipped Mason over onto his back.
“Don’t touch him!” I screamed. I shoved her with little effect. She shoved back, nearly knocking me over. It was all I could do to steady my feet and stay upright.
Isaiah looked on with amused interest; then his gaze fell to the floor. Lissa’s chotki had fallen out of my coat pocket. He picked it up. Strigoi could touch holy objects—the stories about them fearing crosses weren’t true. They just couldn’t enter holy ground. He flipped the cross over and ran his fingers over the etched dragon.
“Ah, the Dragomirs,” he mused. “I’d forgotten about them. Easy to. There’s what, one? Two of them left? Barely worth remembering.” Those horrible red eyes focused on me. “Do you know any of them? I’ll have to see to them one of these days. It won’t be very hard to—”
Suddenly, I heard an explosion. The aquarium burst apart as water shot out of it, shattering the glass. Pieces of it flew toward me, but I barely noticed. The water coalesced in the air, forming a lopsided sphere. It began to float. Toward Isaiah. I felt my jaw drop as I stared at it.
He watched it too, more puzzled than scared. At least until it wrapped around his face and started suffocating him.
Much like the bullets, suffocation wouldn’t kill him. But it could cause him a hell of a lot of discomfort.
His hands flew to his face, desperately trying to “pry” the water away. It was no use. His fingers simply slipped through. Elena forgot about Mason and jumped to her feet.
“What is it?” she shrieked. She shook him in an equally useless effort to f
ree him. “What’s happening?”
Again, I didn’t feel. I acted. My hand closed around a large piece of glass from the broken aquarium. It was jagged and sharp, cutting into my hand.
Sprinting forward, I plunged the shard into Isaiah’s chest, aiming for the heart I’d worked so hard to find in practice. Isaiah emitted a strangled scream through the water and collapsed to the floor. His eyes rolled back in his head as he blacked out from the pain.
Elena stared, as shocked as I’d been when Isaiah had killed Mason. Isaiah wasn’t dead, of course, but he was temporarily down for the count. Her face clearly showed she hadn’t thought that was possible.
The smart thing at that point would have been to run toward the door and the sun’s safety. Instead, I ran in the opposite direction, toward the fireplace. I grabbed one of the antique swords and turned back toward Elena. I didn’t have far to go, because she’d recovered herself and was heading toward me.
Snarling with rage, she tried to grab me. I had never trained with a sword, but I had been taught to fight with any makeshift weapon I could find. I used the sword to keep distance between us, my motions clumsy but effective for the time being.
White fangs flashed in her mouth. “I am going to make you—”
“Suffer, pay, regret I was ever born?” I suggested.
I remembered fighting with my mom, how I’d been on the defensive the whole time. That wouldn’t work this time. I had to attack. Jabbing forward, I tried to land a blow on Elena. No luck. She anticipated my every move.
Suddenly, from behind her, Isaiah groaned as he started to come around. She glanced back, the smallest of motions that let me swipe the sword across her chest. It cut the fabric of her shirt and grazed the skin, but nothing more. Still, she flinched and looked down in panic. I think the glass going through Isaiah’s heart was still fresh in her mind.
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