TWENTY-NINE

Since Bones had been pretending to be weak prior to finding out who the
traitor was, he hadn't spent much time with the prisoner he'd helped capture from the
train ambush - Anubus, Patra's second-in-command. In fact, Anubus had almost been
neglected in the furor over Bones's return, though I'm sure he didn't complain over his
lack of attention. In fact, he almost seemed surprised to see someone in his cell.
This was really the first I'd seen him as well, since I didn't count that initial time when Ian,
Rodney, and Spade had returned with him and without Bones. Anubus was tall for an
Egyptian, well over six-three, and he had the long straight hair and pronounced features to
brag of his heritage. His bearing was far from that of a prisoner awaiting a grim sentence,
too. He almost appeared relaxed, even though he was welded into the steel wall he hung
from.
His stygian gaze evaluated me in much the same way I considered him. Coldly. The first
flicker of real disconcertion came when I moved aside to let him view the man who
followed behind me.
"Ah, hallo there, Anubus. Blimey, I think the last time I saw you was over fifty years ago.
You recall, I had just met this very forward wench who took me back to her chalet and
then nearly bored me to impotence with her shagging. Don't think she moved once under
me the whole time, and it took hours, didn't it? Why, if the mattress would have had a
hole of similar size, I wager I'd have had a grander time shoving my cock into that..."
A bellow of rage cut off the rest of his sentence. I managed to keep my features blank.
Bones had warned me what he would use to goad Anubus, since Anubus regarded Patra
as a deity, but I'd insisted on being present. Guess he wasn't kidding about it being
graphic enough to piss the other vampire off.
"Shut up, filth! I can't believe you're still alive, but you won't be for long. All the flames
of the netherworld are more than what you deserve."
"Oh ho," Bones chortled. "So even after all this time, she still hasn't let you sample a
taste? It's for the best, mate, trust me. Mediocre is the most flattering description I could
give to detail what lies between that woman's legs. Makes me wonder why Mencheres
bound himself to such a poor excuse for a female, but then love can be utterly blind. And
shagless, if that were my wife. Now here is a real woman, in every sense of the word."
Bones pushed me forward. "In her sleep she's more passionate than that lump of Egyptian
clay you worship. Patra knows she pales next to her. Isn't that why she's tried so hard to
have her killed? Because she knew no one would be deceived by her claims of superiority
once the world got a look at Cat?"
"You will all die," Anubus snarled. "Patra is the reincarnation of Isis and the goddess of
this world. She has reigned for over two thousand years, and she can't be stopped by
insects who are lower than locusts!"
"You need to get laid, mate," Bones kindly observed. "She hasn't even let you rub one off
in all these years, has she? Wants her guards to be pure and all that rot, right? Your
unspent balls have warped your brain, they have. How long has it been since you've even
gazed on a naked woman, hmm? Before or after Constantine converted?"
This verbal flaying was an unusual tactic for Bones, but he'd reasoned it was worth a shot.
Ian, Rodney, and Spade had already tried other means, none of them pleasant, but Anubus
had proved either unknowing or disinclined to reveal anything useful. I guess Bones's
continued barbs about having sex with Patra was the equivalent of some heckler boasting
to the pope about how he'd nailed the Virgin Mary. Patra definitely wasn't chaste, but if
she'd had affairs aside from the infamous one with Bones, she'd been discreet about it.
And she was notorious about declaring herself to be of divine lineage. Many of her people
literally worshipped her. Anubus fell into that category.
"Are you picturing it yet? My hands on Patra, mmmm, how many mornings have you
imagined it? Lying awake, wanting to murder me for it, and then to find out that all the
while I touched her, I found the whole experience quite...lacking."
Boy, did we sure have his full attention. Anubus's eyes were blazing green and livid.
"You're not even worthy to be sacrificed to her. Patra only laid with you to sentence you
to death, yet even there, Mencheres failed her. She should have just let me finish you that
night as I wanted to."
Bones laughed again, but lower.
"Think she was the first female who shagged me hoping it would lead me to my doom?
Not nearly. That trick had been attempted before then and repeated numerous times after
it. So no, sorry, that's not why Patra was substandard in bed. It's because she's a fraud, a
fake, and stripped of her lies-and her clothing-she was nothing more than a spoiled
little girl with illusions of grandeur reinforced by such idiots as yourself."
"The grave is coming for you," Anubus roared, all composure gone. "She's summoned it,
and it will find you and swallow you down with unending hunger-"
And then he stopped. I didn't have to see Bones's smile to feel it. He straightened, all the
bantering gone from him. Anubus's face went blank, but it was too late. You fucked up,
buddy, and you know it.
"Now, mate," Bones said as he went to Anubus and settled his finger with deceptive
lightness on his face. "Whatever do you mean by that?"
"Should we open the champagne, or wait to hose the boys off with it?" Denise asked.
We were seated in the living room, a formal place with earth tones and gilded pieces of
antique furniture. The massive table looked like it was carved from a single gigantic tree.
Food adorned it, along with solid brass and silver serving pieces, but no one really ate. I'd
been drumming my fingers on its polished surface before I glanced up at her question.
"Hmm? Oh, go ahead and pop the cork. They'll be a while."
The reason I was here, instead of downstairs, was twofold. One, I didn't want to leave
Denise and my mother surrounded by strangers on a holiday, and two, though he didn't
ask me to leave, I knew Bones didn't want me below. Since they now knew Anubus was
hiding something and not just ignorant, the gloves would definitely be off. It bothered me
that Bones still thought seeing him like that would change how I felt about him, but I
didn't want him distracted over me. Not when lives might depend on how fast he got the
information out of Anubus.
Denise poured the champagne. "This stuff is excellent," she enthused. "Man, is this place
ever stocked. Did you see all the brandy? I'll need a new liver if we stay here long!"
Her cheerful mood made me smile, but with a touch of jadedness. No, she had no idea
how ugly things were downstairs by now. If you stay around vampires long, though, I
mused, you'll learn. It's not all fun and vintage liquor.
Instead I said, "Fill her up. There's two hours before midnight, we may as well start the
party. The last report from Zero was that they were making progress, whatever that
means."
While Bones, Mencheres, Spade, Vlad, Rodney, and Ian were below, Tick Tock and Zero
were our guards. Hell, we wouldn't even be able to stub our toes without one of them
jumping in to prevent it.
"The snow's died down," my mother commented. "At least now you can see out of these
windows. I can't wait to leave this barren place-and just for the record, I won't be
waiting much longer."
Uh oh, there she goes. Some New Year's wishes would never come true.
I sighed. "If you don't like being surrounded by these vampires and ghouls, imagine how
much more you wouldn't like it if it were Patra's vamps and ghouls."
"I'm not a child, Catherine," she replied in her usual sharp tone. "Don't speak to me like
one."
The tenseness of the past several days caught up with me, even though I of all people
knew better.
"You're not a child? That is news, considering you've acted like one most of my life."
Denise's mouth dropped at my rejoinder. She gulped her champagne, settling back in her
chair for a better view.
"That's it," my mother announced, furious. "I'm leaving!"
Why couldn't I just learn to keep my trap shut? With resignation, I followed her as she
marched to the front door, grabbing a coat.
"Mom, be sensible. It's about six degrees outside, you'll freeze to death. Where do you
think you're going, anyway?"
"I've had enough of this," she spat. "Go here, do that, stay still, silly little mortal, tricks
are for kids! Well, I am through being carted around for guilt's sake."
During her tirade, she had pushed past me and marched straight out onto the lawn. I didn't
stop her, partly because I didn't want to have to get physical and also so our grievances
could be aired in semi-private. The living room was hardly the place for this kind of family
circus.
"You're wrong, Mom," I said, trying to ignore the biting wind. I hadn't bothered to don a
coat, and the chill cut straight through my sweater and pants. "Can you be a pain in the
ass? Yeah. Do I wish you weren't in my life? Of course not. Now, really, let's get back
inside, it's freezing out-"
"I'll walk to the nearest house, street, town, whatever," she snapped, not mollified in the
least.
We reached the trees, the fallen snow silvery in the moonlight. My breath came in plumes
of smoke. "There's nothing around for at least twenty miles," I pointed out in a calm tone.
"Believe me, I know. Mencheres picked this place for a reason. You can't walk it, you'd
be overcome by hypothermia inside of five. We're out in the middle of nowhere, trust me,
there's nothing around..."
And then I stopped, frozen to the spot and not from the temperature. My sudden
unyielding grip on her prevented her from going another step. She rounded on me angrily
before ceasing at my expression.
"What?" she whispered.
"Shhh."
It was barely audible to her, but sounded way too loud for my comfort. Then again, our
bitching over the past fifty yards hadn't been quiet. Neither were the heavy footfalls in the
distance, disturbing the night with how noisy they were.
I narrowed my eyes, focusing all my energy toward those sounds. No heartbeat, no
breathing, but also no feeling of encroaching power. They were moving slowly. A whole
hell of a lot of them. Why didn't I feel anything? Every vampire or ghoul gave off an aura
of power, but there was nothing. What the fuck were they?
Without waiting to find out, I snatched her up and ran for the house. Zero and Tick Tock
were already at the door, sensing trouble from my rapid pace.
"Get everybody downstairs now," I barked, shoving my mother in that direction for
emphasis. "Something's coming."
"What?" Denise began, rising from her chair.
Randy was quicker on the draw and went to her, pulling her up. Zero gestured to the
stairs, ever respectful but urgent.
"Please, this way."
When my mother didn't move, I shot her a single glare. "Awake or unconscious, you're
going with them."
She muttered something but went after them, her shoulders stiff.
"Tick Tock," I breathed, still straining to listen to those figures. "Get Bones and the
others."
Two minutes later Bones came, Spade and Rodney close behind him. I ignored the stains
on him and pointed to the window.
"Do you hear them? I can't feel anything, but there are a lot of them. Headed right this
way."
Bones narrowed his gaze, staring into the darkness with green pinpoints in his eyes. After
a few seconds he let out a grunt.
"Can't feel anything, either, Kitten, but they're stomping around like a herd of elephants.
Whatever they are, they aren't human. Charles?"
"I have no idea, Crispin. That curls my stones in my sack."
Rodney gave Spade a grimly supportive glance. "I'm right there with you."
"All right." Bones cracked his knuckles, his eyes all green. "Let's get ready to greet them.
We'll need knives, swords, crossbows, guns...quickly. A few of them sound like they're
ahead of the pack. We'll be finding out soon what's come to call."
"Why don't we just leave?" I asked on the way to the armory.
"Because there's not enough choppers to get everyone off, and if we take cars, it could be
an ambush. We'll make a stand, luv. Find out what we're up against. Now, we'll have the
chopper ready just in case. If need be, you can fly your mum, Denise, and Randy to
safety."
"I won't leave you," I said. "No matter what."
Bones made a soothing noise even as he began to strap on about forty pounds of silver.
"Now Kitten, they're human and therefore easiest to kill. The rest of us are capable of-"
"Not a motherfucking chance." In the same reasonable tone he used. "Juan knows how to
fly and I'm stronger than he is, so he'd be the best choice if their evacuation became
necessary. And if you even think of pulling a fast one, like knocking me out and loading
me onto that chopper, I'll return to work full-time taking on assignments that'll make your
hair even whiter than it is now."
Bones gave me a quick, fierce kiss.
"Bloody woman. Learned a few mind-reading tricks of your own, have you? Right then,
suit up and change clothes. Your sweater's too bulky, it'll restrain your movements."
I just pulled it off, left in my bra, sweatpants, and sneakers. There was no time to go
upstairs and find a more flexible shirt. I began to strap on silver knives, lashing them to my
legs, waist, and arms with the enhanced speed of long practice.
"Just not going to listen to a word I say, are you?" Bones asked as he handed me a sword.
"Keep one of these, we don't know what we're trying to kill and silver might not work.
You're going to freeze like that, Kitten."
"Isn't that the least of our concerns?" With a laugh that was more strained than amused.
"Now I've got full range of motion, and that's what's most important."
"Right you are." Bones drew off his own sweater and threw it to the ground next to mine.
Most of the vampires and ghouls followed suit. Bare chests gleamed in the reflection of
the light of the chandelier as everyone strapped on weapons. Even as we did so, those
footsteps outside came closer.
Mencheres came downstairs. I hadn't seen him before this, but he'd obviously heard what
was going on, because he had more weapons covering him than skin.
"To the lawn, we'll start with an exterior perimeter and fall back inside if necessary,"
Bones said. "Zero, you gather the humans and put them in the holding cells below, since
they're the most reinforced. Feel free to use physical means to make any reluctant ones
obey, especially her mother."
I would have replied with something rude, but this wasn't the time. We filed outdoors in a
precise manner, setting up formation around the house. Hand signals were used once we
were outside, the vampires and ghouls moving with a speed any military leader would love
to command. Of course, they predated most military leaders. Practice did make perfect.
The frigid wind made me shiver. Yes, it was extremely cold, but it wouldn't kill me and
hypothermia was something I didn't have to worry about. I was half vampire, after all, so
my blood wouldn't know how to freeze. It didn't stop me from wishing I could be as
impervious to it as my companions, though. Vampires and ghouls might not like the cold,
but I was the only one whose teeth were chattering.
"All right, luv?"
Bones asked it while not taking his gaze off the trees in front of him. We were dead center
in front of the house, and hopefully that wasn't prophetic.
I gritted my jaw to still it. "It'll go away when the action starts."
There was movement at my side. Tate slid next to me without a word, shouldering Spade
aside.
"Leave him," Bones interjected when Spade was about to shove him back. "It's what he's
good for."
Tate might have replied with something, I won't ever know. His mouth opened...but then
the first of the mysterious figures cleared the trees and stopped his rejoinder. Bones
stiffened, turning as cold and hard as any of the icicles on the roof. Spade let out a low
hiss, and someone muttered something that sounded like a prayer.
"Sweet Christ," I whispered, a new freeze settling in me. "What is that?"
It was Mencheres who answered, coming up behind us and raising his voice to be heard
above the thing's sudden snarl as it began to run, its mouth snapping obscenely from halfrotted lips.
"That," he replied, "is the grave."

THIRTY

In older movies, zombies looked almost comical. The newer films pegged
them better-the insanity of eyes bulging out and flesh hanging in rancid layers over a
frame hunched from hunger. Some were more decomposed than others, bones visible in
places as they staggered forward. But all of them had one thing in common; they were
ravenous, and we were food.
When the first one was visible, Mencheres appeared as stunned as the rest of us were.
After his cryptic statement, however, he began to curse in a manner so unlike him that it
broke my attention from the oncoming horde.
"Never in all my foulest imaginings did I believe she would do such a thing," he finished
with. "There will be payback for this, perhaps not by me or anyone here, but one day she
will account for such a deed."
That didn't sound good. In fact, it sounded like an epitaph.
Bones shook Mencheres's shoulder with a hard tug. "We don't have time to ponder
Patra's capacity for evil. These things"-a short nod to the ones only about two dozen
yards away. "Can they be killed?"
Mencheres lost his glazed expression and his features hardened. He placed his hand over
Bones's.
"No."
The single word was delivered without emotion. Mencheres seemed to steel himself even
as he squeezed Bones's hand before dropping his own.
"They cannot be killed," he continued, unsheathing his sword with a slicing noise. "Nor do
they feel any pain or even need eyes to see us. They are drawn to us by her will alone."
He strode forward with a command for everyone else to stay back. The things were only a
few feet from him, moving at a loping run now. They seemed to grow more crazed by his
nearness. Horrible grunts came from them.
"They have been pulled from the ground," Mencheres continued, sidestepping one with a
speed it didn't have, "and they will not return to it until the spell is broken. We cannot run.
Every grave within a hundred miles would empty as the dead came after us, and they
would kill anything in their path."
His sword moved so fast I couldn't follow it with my gaze. In disbelief I saw the things
leap at him with almost equal speed. Where the fuck did their shuffling go? Oh, shit!
Mencheres hacked in that same blur. Pieces of them started to fly in all directions as his
blade outraced their sudden, incredible tempo. "We must hold them off and find what
object she used for this spell," he went on in that same level tone. "It would have to be
something of hers, perhaps carried by one of the prisoners, or planted by Rattler. If we
find it and destroy it, they will die. Until then, no matter how much damage they sustain,
they cannot rest."
What he meant was sickeningly illustrated as he spoke. Mother of God, even the limbs
he'd severed crawled in our direction. A headless body stumbled closer, and the
unattached cranium chewed with demonic intentness at Mencheres's foot until he kicked it
away. Now that was scary. Still, when they were dismembered, the creatures were
certainly less dangerous. Maybe there was a chance.
"Send three people back in the house to search," Mencheres called out, whirling to
intercept more of the forms as they approached. "It will probably be something small, easy
to disregard. Destroy it with any means possible.
"Tick Tock, Annette, Zero, go," Bones ordered with a jerk of his head, pulling out his
own sword.
They darted back into the house without pause, except for Annette. I saw her stop and
stare at Bones before she disappeared into the house. I stared at him as well, for the same
reason. Thinking this was the last time I'd see him.
"If I thought for a moment you'd listen, it would be you going inside," he almost sighed.
"Yet I know better. I love you, Kitten. There's nothing on this earth or under it that can
change that."
I didn't have time to reply, but it wasn't necessary. Every fiber of me shouted it back at
him even as he raised his voice and addressed the four dozen people also drawing out their
swords.
"Patra unleashed death on us, mates. Let us return the gesture with our compliments!"
Bones strode forward with measured, lethal steps to meet the new wave of ghastly
invaders. Four dozen against untold hundreds? I knew the odds of our survival. So did
everyone who gripped a blade and advanced with him, myself included.
"We are not helpless." Bones's voice was never more controlled. If I didn't know better,
I'd say it was chipper. "Many times in our lives we've been powerless, but not this night.
Right now we have the power to choose the manner in which we die. If you have been a
master of nothing else in all your days, you are now a master of this moment. And I for
one am going to give such an answer to this insult that others will dearly regret not being
by my side to see it!"
Bones finished with a roar that was taken up by every throat. We trembled in the premidnight
air with the rage of retaliation, and suddenly I didn't feel cold. Or afraid. I'd
faced death before, hell, even sought it. Now by Bones's side, I had the chance to rewrite
every bad decision, each instance of cowardice, and all the years of regret. Nothing else
mattered but right now. This instant, I'd become the person I'd always wanted to be.
Strong. Fearless. Loyal. Someone even I could be proud of.
The first creature leapt at me and my sword flashed out to answer, my hair flying as I
dodged and hacked. A green glow landed on its malformed face and I laughed, bright and
savagely happy.
"See that? It's the light in my eyes, and I'm going to show you what else I've got..."
My first fight to the death was when I was sixteen. All I'd had was a silver cross with a
thin dagger attachment, and I didn't even know if it would kill a vampire. It did,
obviously, and I've been killing ever since. I'd been in hundreds of battles since that initial
one, but none of them, none of them, had ever been like this.
Thank God it was dark out. The glowing green of a vampire's eyes made them
distinguishable from the zombies, who continued to pour out of the woods in all
directions. Ghouls were a little tougher to filter, but then there were only about ten of
them here. You just didn't realize how interchangeable one figure could appear from the
next when your gaze was continually splattered with blood, flesh, or flying pieces of rotted
limbs. And the limbs were everywhere; disgusting parts crawling on the ground,
unattached fingers squirming like leeches on your body, or whole and still adorning the
monsters that kept coming from the woods.
I was in the mindless frenzy of killing, slashing out at anything that came near me. A
mental numbness had set in, making me oblivious to my own injuries. My arms, shoulders,
legs-every part of me had been chewed on. I wasn't even sure if I was still clothed; all I
saw was red from both the rage and the blood in my eyes. That's why the matching
emerald lights from my comrades was so helpful. At least when I saw them, I knew I
wasn't alone. I certainly felt alone, with nothing but maddened zombies surrounding me,
screams blending into a continuous white noise, and the ceaseless cleaving of my sword
into the inviolable force of walking dead.
Vlad had an advantage. With enough time, he could grab hold of a zombie and burn them
to pieces. They ran around like macabre torches, what was left of them, anyway. Still, it
seemed he needed a solid minute of holding them to burn them into a less harmful state,
which meant it wasn't the most productive method of dealing with them.
Every now and then, though, I'd catch an orange glow from the corner of my eye, hear
indescribable screams, and know Vlad was still alive. Even more important was that
periodically, I'd hear an English accent cresting over the sounds of death and pain, urging
everyone on, taunting the creatures with gleeful scorn. Bones was still alive, too. Aside
from that, I had no idea who was around me.
"Fall back, fall back!" the shout came. The thing in front of me was suddenly cleaved
straight down the center into two halves. Between the falling forms there was Bones,
almost unrecognizable in appearance, and I stopped my sword in midarc to avoid slashing
his head off.
"Come with me," he growled. He tugged on my arm and then dropped it with a savage
curse.
"Bloody fucking hell, why didn't you call for help?"
I didn't know what he meant, and arguing wasn't an option, since he yanked me to his
chest with one arm and began a deranged hacking at anything near us with the other. My
feet barely brushed the ground, swinging with his gait while I began to feel nauseous.
Some of the haze lifted from my vision and when we entered the house and went at once
down the stairs, I could see with clarity again.
Every item in the house had been smashed. I was confused, because the main fight was
outside, but then it made sense. Not knowing what the mysterious object was, Annette,
Tick Tock and Zero had been obliterating anything they could. There wasn't even a solid
stick of furniture left, and the remaining vampires and ghouls streaked through the
wreckage while holding off the hideous intruders that kept coming. This house had three
underground levels and just two entrances to them. That was on the plus side. In the
negative column, it also meant we had no way out.
Bones deposited me into the arms of Tate, who appeared out of the spattered forms.
"Take her to the lowest level," he barked and turned away. "I have to cover our retreat."
"Bones, no!" I protested, ignored by both of them as Tate whirled and ran down the stairs.
He shoved past people, muttering something that sounded like, "Your arm, your arm," as
he went.
We went through a door where inside, several frightened faces stared at us. The kids, I
realized. They're scared. Maybe this wasn't outlined in the Be a Vampire Snack brochure.
"Clear some space," he snapped to them, and fear from either his appearance or his tone
made them quick to respond. They huddled together as Tate lowered me to the floor and
withdrew a knife.
"Get off me, I have to get back out there-" I started, and then shut up. Oh. No wonder
the two of them had given me such a look.
"Give me a little blood by mouth, if you can spare it," was what I said instead as I
considered my arm. Well, what was left of it. Always the left arm, the dispassionate part of
me mused darkly. First burned by Max, now this. If it could talk, it would never stop
bitching at me.
It was hanging by a few stubborn ligaments, but most of it was chewed off to the bone.
Now I resemble the zombies, it occurred to me. Some of their limbs were a dead ringer for
this one.
"It'll hurt when it heals," Tate rasped, pressing a knife and my mouth to his throat. "Drink
deep. I'll refill."
Normally I wouldn't have drunk from him, deeply or not, but these weren't normal
circumstances. Bottom line was, I'd have to be back in fighting condition and fast, because
the things outside weren't calling a time-out. With that in mind, I clamped my teeth over
the puncture Tate made in his neck and sucked hard, biting to keep the wound open.
He made a noise I refused to diagnose, because I knew better. Cool blood filled my mouth
and I swallowed, pulling harder, feeling shards of shooting pain erupt in my arm. His grip
tightened until my upper body was glued to him, tilting his head back as I applied stronger
suction. By the fourth pull my arm was in agony, but by the sixth, it had settled into a
harsh tingling. At the ninth I was able to shove him back using two hands, panting as
cravings for more awoke in me.
Tate's eyes were green when I looked at him, and it made me scramble back further,
because his expression said they weren't lit up from battle.
I jumped to my feet, watching in amazement as the skin regrew on my limb, knitting back
together like a scene from a science fiction movie.
The new blood coursing in me made me feel wilder, less human. Considering the amounts
I'd no doubt lost, I was probably running on a sixty-forty mixture favoring the undead
cells.
"Come on, soldier," I said. "We have things to kill."
Without a backward glance I ran up the stairs and back toward the fierce sounds of battle.
The vampires were clustered around the hall in front of the landing like an undead
gauntlet. Every shrieking, unholy thing that tried to gnaw their way through them was set
upon by all sides. It was holding so far, but one look told me the grim truth. This barricade
wouldn't last long enough. More and more creatures kept coming.
I sprinted forward to join the fray when I collided with Annette. She was wide-eyed and
frantic, almost not seeing me as she rushed to smash a figurine against the wall. When
nothing happened but broken glass, she gave a raw cry of despair and turned to seek out
more objects.
"Annette!" I had to shake her to get her to focus on me. "Where are Tick Tock and
Zero?"
She gestured in no general direction. "Tick Tock is on the other side of the house, Zero
went to Anubus to attempt to beat the answer out of him, but I saw six of those...things
follow after him, they've broken in! I heard Zero scream, and then I went this way. Oh,
Cat, I can't find it, I can't find it!"
What it was didn't require asking. This place was coming apart at the seams.
"Just keep at it, Annette, we'll find whatever it is. We'll hold them off-"
She shoved me. "You don't understand. It's on the news! Graves emptying, rumors of
things crawling from them...all headed in this direction. We're in an isolated area, but not
that isolated. Don't you see? Patra doesn't need all of them to kill us; very soon she'll
know exactly where we are, because all the zombies are a sign pointing the way!"
Shit! Didn't it ever stop? So our situation had upgraded from awful to doomed.
Surprisingly, I was more angry than anything else. That bitch didn't deserve to win. We
might not be innocents, but she was far worse on many levels.
There was noise behind me, coming from the basement. Screams, God, more screams.
And the sounds of crumbling structure. This is it, the realization came to me. The end. No,
I couldn't stop it, but I could choose how to meet it.
With renewed determination, I held out my sword. "You keep looking, Annette, no matter
what. I'll keep killing. If that bitch wants us, she can come and get us."
"To the lower rooms, mates, move!" a shout ordered. Two dozen members of what was
left of our forces began to fall back. I fought my way forward, seeing Bones and
Mencheres at the end of the retreating line covering the exit. Both of them spun and
slashed in a dizzying display of violence that made them seem like they'd been transformed
into machines. I'd always guessed that Mencheres, once stripped of his polite manners,
would be frighteningly lethal. I wasn't wrong. He looked like a living nightmare.
Vlad grabbed me, forcing me backward. His hands felt hot, not cold like they should have
from the freezing outside temperatures.
"Come along, they'll join us soon," he barked, propelling me with his body.
"No, I'm going up there!" I yelled, trying to wrest away.
"He's the co-leader of his line so he's where he should be," was his reply. "But you're
coming with me."
His fist landed a solid whack to the top of my head. Amid the wash of sudden stars, I
ducked under his arm and lurched forward, brought up short by his hold on my hair.
All at once, everything seemed to move in slow motion. Vlad pulled me back, my feet slid
out from under me, and faintly, above all the other noise, I heard a vindictive, satisfied
laugh.
I saw six of those things follow after him, they've broken in! Annette had said. And I
heard him scream...
She'd been talking about Zero, who was on his way to Anubus's cell. But while no one
had seen or heard from Zero since, it was Anubus who was chuckling maliciously now.
Anubus. Unharmed though he was chained to a wall with half a dozen ravenous creatures
within chomping distance. How was that possible? Only one way I could think of.
"Vlad, do you have to be touching someone to burn them?"
The question startled him so much he quit manhandling me. "I have to have touched them
before, and it takes longer, since it's difficult to burn someone I'm not holding."
"Difficult," I breathed. "But not impossible?"
"No, not impossible, why?"
"It's Anubus." I raised my voice because the adrenaline began to surge. "Patra's object
isn't an object at all. Don't you get it? He's the ultimate Trojan horse, and Bones nearly
got killed delivering him! She meant to finish Bones off in the ambush-and then the rest
of us later, since we carted Anubus back home with us. Patra knew we wouldn't kill him,
who offs their most valuable hostage?"
Vlad started to smile. He released me and spread out his hands, holding them over his
head. All around us chaos reigned.
"He's too far away for me to reach him before I'd be cut down, but let's see if I can save
the day."
"Go on," I replied, whirling to clear the area around him. "Impress me."
His hands began to glow, not red, but blue. They lit the hall with an eerie navy-violet light.
Sparks flew off his hands, showering my hair as I continued to slash at the oncoming
zombies.
Someone screamed, high-pitched and agonizing. I threw a heartless grin at Vlad as I
recognized the voice.
"You've got his attention, Drac."
"He's strong," Vlad replied in a strained tone. His hands were now completely engulfed in
flames. "And must I remind you once more what my name is?"
"You arrogant..." thrust though the stomach of a snapping zombie, twisting and using all
my strength to cleave him in half "...overpublicized..." wasn't going to work, it clawed at
the blade, and my God, these things were tough, "...showy old bat..." Crack! There went
my head into the wall. If I didn't have a split skull, I'd be amazed. "What are you waiting
for? Aren't you the king of all bogeymen? The legend children fear will devour them if
they don't behave?"
Two more zombies slipped past Bones and Mencheres, who were now almost back-toback
trying to stave them off.
"Come on, Vlad, live up to your reputation! If you can't burn to death one Egyptian
vampire chained to a wall, how did you ever drive the Turks from Romania?"
There was a loud reverberating snap, like an electric transformer had blown, and then in
midleap, the charging zombies fell to the floor. Out of the suddenly still forms, dirt began
to appear, covering them, eroding over the creature's bodies, until nothing but piles of
earth remained. Out of the ground they were called, I thought, and back they went.
"You did it," I panted, dropping my sword and running not in his direction, but the
opposite one.
"Of course," I heard him reply as strong arms lifted me up and crushed me against a chest
covered with gore. "I'm Vlad Tepesh, what did you expect?"

THIRTY-ONE

For about thirty seconds I held Bones, feeling his mouth pressed to my
hair, his hands gripping my back, and I was truly happy. Then there was the sound, a
muffled moan, one I heard even above the other vampires' cries of exultation. One that
seemed to come from my very cells, which made sense, in a weird way.
"Mom."
I dashed straight down the hall toward the back like I was being pulled by a string. Bones
was close behind, but not as fast as I was, not this time. I fell to my knees when I saw her,
draped across Denise's lap, my friend's hands compressing her stomach. Next to them lay
a zombie, now only a pile of dirt, and my mother was as still and pale as death.
"No!"
It tore out of me even as I acted without thinking, taking one of my knives and slashing it
across my wrist, tilting her head up, forcing my blood in her mouth. The blade cut right
through to the bone and red liquid overflowed her lips.
She gagged once and weakly swallowed, bubbles trailing out of her mouth. I worked her
jaw, forcing her to swallow again.
Denise was crying and praying at the same time. Bones pushed her to the side to crouch
over my mother. He took the same knife I'd used and sliced his own wrist, holding it over
her mouth, instructing me to begin chest compressions to force his blood through her
body.
Blinded by tears I did, bearing down on her chest. Her heart had stopped beating right as
Bones gave her his blood. Over and over I pressed on her chest while Bones blew into her
mouth.
"That thing came in the room," Denise choked, several injuries on her as well. "And it just
jumped on her! I tried to pull it off, but it was so strong...Come on, Justina, don't give
up!"
Denise's shout was so loud, it took me a second to hear the soft internal thumping below
my hands. Then I sat back, tears flooding my eyes, as my mother coughed.
"Filthy...animal...get away...from me," she rasped to Bones.
I laughed even as Bones snorted and sat back as well, pausing only to cut his palm and
slap it over the slash in my wrist.
"Hallo, Justina. It appears we're still stuck with each other."
Denise laughed also, and then she wiped at her eyes and looked around.
"Where's Randy? Isn't he with you?"
My smile faded. Belatedly I realized that Randy wasn't in the room with everyone else.
Seeing my mother bleeding to death had distracted me from noticing that before. I flicked
a glance at Bones, who was frowning and getting to his feet.
"Why would he be with us?" he asked Denise in a sharp tone. "Randy was supposed to
stay here."
Denise got up now, too, her face pale. "He wanted to help find whatever it was Patra was
using. He said he wouldn't leave the house. He's been gone about twenty minutes..."
Bones turned and strode out of the room. I went to Denise and took her hands. Even with
all the blood loss I'd suffered, mine were warmer.
"You stay here," I told her. "We'll find him."
Denise's hazel eyes met mine, and the vehemence in them made me actually back up a
step.
"No fucking way," she said, and shoved me to the side.
I let her go, feeling a bit woozy now that the battle adrenaline was leaving me. My mother
sat up, staring at the blood and torn clothes around her abdomen where that mortal wound
had been.
"Mom," I began.
"Don't worry about me," she cut me off. "Go after Denise."
I gave her a grateful look and left, moving through the ruins of the house far slower than I
had before. It wasn't a minute later when I heard Denise scream, loud and piercing. That
brought me to a run, despite the spots starting to dance in my vision.
Bones was kneeling on the floor of the kitchen with Denise in his arms. There was a pile
of something red and dirty right next to them...
"Oh, Jesus," I whispered.
"Fix him!" Denise screamed, pounding on Bones's back. "Fix him, fix him, FIX HIM!"
But that was impossible. My mother had still been clinging to life when Bones and I gave
her blood, so its healing properties had had a chance to work. Randy's body lay in pieces,
parts covered by the dirt that had once been the zombie, or zombies, who'd torn him
apart.
"He's gone, luv," Bones said to Denise, forcing her away from the gruesome sight of her
husband. "I'm so very sorry."
I don't think Denise even heard him. She kept screaming and sobbing while her fists
pummeled Bones. I went to her, uselessly trying to comfort her, even though nothing I
could do would ease her pain.
Spade came in the kitchen, grim-faced, and knelt down next to us.
"Crispin, I'll take Denise out of here. You need to get Cat and the others to safety. We
don't have much time."
Wordless, Bones nodded. Spade gently pried Denise from Bones's arms and carried her
out of the kitchen.
Everyone still left standing was in emergency mode, rounding up the dead and the living
for a speedy exit. We all had to get as far away from here as possible, before Patra came
to finish us off.
Bones picked me up, and I didn't even bother to argue that I could walk. Frankly, I wasn't
sure if I could. As he maneuvered through the broken items in the house, I was surprised
to see one of the televisions were still on.
"...three...two...one...Happy New Year!" Dick Clark announced, followed by the usual
noise of partymakers, firecrackers, and the beginning of "Auld Lang Syne." It seemed
impossible that so much had happened in only two hours.
My vision began to get hazy, which might have been the blood loss catching up to me,
because when I blinked next, we were out on the lawn. Strewn amid the odd-colored
snow and heaps of dirt were bodies. What once had been vampires and ghouls were now
shriveling remains. I felt a surge of gladness to see Tate milling around, and prayed that
Juan and Dave had also made it.
Ian knelt on the ground, his chestnut hair making him easily distinguishable even from
behind. His shoulders shook.
Bones set me down and then took rapid steps forward. Mencheres seized him, his face
grim.
"How many?" Bones asked hoarsely.
Mencheres's gaze slid to several of the piles of shriveling limbs.
"We don't know yet."
Bones knelt beside Ian. "Ian, mate, we must take them and go. None of them would care
for us being slaughtered over their bodies because we didn't have the strength to leave.
Patra's already taken too much tonight. We shan't let her get another thing."
Through rapidly graying vision, I saw the three of them begin to collect the remains of
what used to be their friends.

THIRTY-TWO

Dave's face was the first thing I saw when my eyes opened. He smiled.
"Hello, Cat. Are you hungry? Thirsty?"
"Thirsty," I rasped, downing the water he handed me. "Where are we?"
He took the glass back. "We're in South Dakota now, while everyone regroups."
A glance to my left showed bright light peeking through the heavy drapes.
"My God, what time is it?"
"About three o'clock. You lost a shitload of blood and had to be given two transfusions.
Then Bones didn't want you to wake up and start to exhaust yourself, so he gave you
some of those sleeping pills Don cooked up for you. You don't remember arguing with
him about it and trying to spit them out?"
Not at all. I sat up, noticing I was no longer bloody and I was also wearing a clean T-shirt.
"Don's had a hell of a time these past several hours," Dave went on. "He's been pulling
every string he has to confiscate footage of empty graves and shuffling dead people, and
overall calming the media circus this thing has generated. Thankfully, the Canadian
government doesn't want its people believing in zombies, either, so they're cooperating."
I groaned. I could just imagine how Don must be going nuts trying to cover this up.
"What's his angle?"
"They're using a cover story of a small earthquake and an avalanche that emptied some of
the graves, but the tabloids are still going to have a field day. At least we were in a remote
area-if this had happened in a big city, there'd be no lid Don could find that would be big
enough to seal this nightmare up."
"An earthquake and an avalanche? That's what he's saying?"
Dave shrugged. "It's the best he could do on short notice, I guess. It explains the torn-up
cemeteries somewhat. Then he's also saying some of the 'zombies' were shell-shocked
survivors wearing filthy clothes and wandering around in a daze. You know how it is.
People don't want to think what they saw was real. The average person goes through life
much happier believing nothing supernatural exists."
"Where's Denise?" Poor Randy. He wouldn't have been involved in any of this if not for
me.
"She's sleeping. Spade gave her a lesser version of your tranquilizer. Right now, sleep's
the best thing for her."
"Dave...who else didn't make it?"
His face clouded. "You know about Randy. Zero's also gone, as well as Tick Tock..."
He went on, and every new name slammed into me. Some of them I knew, some of them I
didn't. Still, they were each an irreplaceable loss. By the time Dave was finished, more
than eighteen vampires and ghouls had been listed, a staggering loss. Four more humans
had also been killed, in addition to Randy. Bones must be devastated.
"Where's Bones?" I asked, swinging my legs out of bed.
"Downstairs. But first, you might want to put on a pair of pants."
I looked down, seeing what I hadn't noticed while under the covers. "Oh. Sorry, I didn't
realize..."
He smiled faintly. "You're like my sister, don't worry about it. And because I'm your
friend, I don't mind telling you...brush your teeth. Your breath is scary."
Taking Dave's advice, I'd brushed my teeth, washed my face, and put on more clothes.
My feet were bare, since I didn't bother looking for shoes. Dave escorted me to the closed
doors of the drawing room and then left.
Bones came to me and I held him for a long time. Saying "I'm sorry" was so useless a
comfort that I didn't even bother.
Ian was there, too. He hadn't showered or changed clothes since the battle, and he was
shirtless with dirt and other things smeared over him.
"Would have been good of you to figure out the puzzle earlier, Reaper," he bitterly stated.
"Not much help getting a bright idea after half our numbers are cut down."
I blinked, unprepared for his hostility. Bones didn't have any hesitation, and he had Ian by
the throat before I could even formulate a response.
"Don't you say another accusing word to her or I'll lose the very thin hold I have on my
temper," he growled. "If not for her, we'd all be dead right now, or did you forget that?"
Ian's turquoise gaze was blazing emerald.
"What I haven't forgotten is why we were all dragged into this war in the first place. It
was all because of her! Her injury was repairable, Crispin, but you can't do anything about
our friends lying in the other room, can you? How many more lives will be needed to
avenge one woman's injured pride-"
"Bones, no!"
Mencheres appeared out of nowhere, and not a moment too soon. There was a wrenching
sound, a blur, and then Bones was thrown backward missing an arm. The scream I made
drowned out Spade's shout as he arrived just in time to witness it.
Ian stared with stupefied amazement at the hand still clutched to his throat, the limb
beginning to wither. I went to Bones, but he sidestepped me and strode right to
Mencheres.
"Did you have a reason for preventing me from silencing that insult, Grandsire?"
Now my whole body tensed. If Bones and Mencheres went at it, all hell would break
loose.
"You were going to tear Ian's head off," Mencheres answered. "You would have
regretted it afterward, for many reasons, and I think we have already given Patra enough
cause to celebrate without further reducing our numbers."
Ian appeared mildly dazed by recent events. He shook his head as if to clear it, then stared
at me and Bones with a look of vague disbelief.
"By Christ, Crispin, I don't know what got into me," he breathed. "I had no cause to rail
at you like that. Forgive me, both of you."
Bones started to run a hand through his hair, stopped when he saw his limb was only half
grown back, and snorted incredulously.
"Two hundred and forty-seven years I've had that arm. Didn't think to lose it while trying
to rip your head off. Bugger, I have to pull myself together."
"Now more than ever we all have to pull ourselves together," Mencheres agreed.
"Yes," Bones said, eyeing him in a way that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand
up. "Especially you, Grandsire, because this must end."
Vlad entered the room. He looked around, saw the staring contest between Bones and
Mencheres, and took a seat.
"I know what you're thinking," Mencheres said with bleakness. "And I tell you, I cannot
do it."
Bones was next to him in a flash. "The reality is that either you or she will be dead very
soon. Whatever Patra meant to you, whatever secret dreams you've harbored of fate
intervening at the last moment to make things right-you of all people know better. You
told me never to doubt your visions, yet here you've lingered with the hope that you could
be wrong. But you're not, so you must end this, because that is the responsibility you have
to the people under your line and now also under mine."
I was confused. Mencheres didn't have Patra stuffed in a back room, to my knowledge, so
how could he have the power to end this, as Bones was implying? Vlad leaned forward,
picking up on my thought. "Don't you see, Cat? When Patra had you trapped in a lethal
nightmare, who knew how to break it? Last night when the zombies attacked, who knew
the only way to destroy them was to destroy their homing beacon? Mencheres. So if he
knows these spells well enough to know what counters them...then he also has the
knowledge to cast one himself."
One look at Mencheres's ashen face confirmed it, and then I was right in front of him as
well.
"You have to. She's not going to stop! Do you want to see everyone around you dead?
Because that's what will happen if you don't do something."
"And could you?" Mencheres flung at me. "If this were Bones we were talking about,
could you mete out death to him? Could you sentence him so easily to the grave?"
He stopped, showing more naked feeling than I'd ever seen from him, and it hit me. He's
still in love with her, even after everything she's done. Poor bastard.
I chose my words with care. "I don't pretend to know how hard this is on you,
Mencheres, and if this were Bones, it would rip me apart inside, too. But"-I paused to
look straight at the man I loved-"if you ever went so far off the deep end that you'd
try-and succeed-in killing those I loved, and you made it very clear through countless
examples that you wouldn't stop until I and everyone I cared about were dead, then yes.
I'd kill you."
Bones stared back at me and a small smile touched his mouth. "That's my girl."
Then he fixed his gaze back on Mencheres. "I can't offer you any comfort in this but one,
single thing: a quick death for Patra. She doesn't deserve it, and I'd promised to treat
whoever plotted against my wife to a much more prolonged, gruesome experience, but for
your sake I'll amend that. If you do what you must now."
Green blazed from Mencheres's eyes, and so much power crackled off him that I flinched.
"Are you threatening me?"
Bones didn't even twitch. "I'm the co-ruler of your line and I'm stating my intentions
toward an enemy who has butchered our people. You need to remember whose side
you're on. Can't you see Patra has been betting her life on the notion that you're incapable
of that?"
Mencheres didn't say anything. Every set of eyes in the room were trained on him. Then at
last he stood, reining in that angry flash of power like a bird folding up its wings.
"So be it. Last night Patra unleashed the contents of the grave on us. Tonight, we will give
her back its vengeance."

THIRTY-THREE

The stars were winking from their new backdrop of ever-deepening navy.
Mencheres was in the center of the lawn. We'd cleared the snow off the ground so the
large tablecloth placed on it didn't get wet. Mencheres sat cross-legged in front of it, and I
couldn't help but think that with his center positioning, the dozen or so vampires in the
background behind him...and the bones lined up on the white linen, this looked like hell's
version of the Last Supper.
None of us knew what was about to happen. After making that cryptic statement,
Mencheres had simply said to be dressed for battle at sunset and then he went up to his
room. I half wondered if he'd make a break for it via an upstairs window, but Bones
seemed satisfied that Mencheres would keep to his promise, and here he was.
Earlier I made a call to Don to tell him something was going down tonight. Maybe with a
heads-up, he'd be able to come up with a better cover story than avalanches and mini earthquakes.
Problem was, I couldn't tell him where this event would take place. Or what
time. Or what it would consist of. Or any other helpful details that would allow him to
minimize human interaction and prevent a full-scale media fallout, he scathingly told me.
Well, I didn't have those details, so I could only relay what I knew. Don's frustration was
understandable. Here I'd warned him that for the second night in a row, the undead were
going all-out with a black magic attack, but I didn't know if bodies would be crawling
from their graves-or raining from the sky. Don had cause to freak, sure. Me, I had other
concerns aside from keeping the existence of vampires a secret. I had to stay alive. So I
was dressed for battle, wearing over my traditional black spandex various knives, a sword,
several silver bullet-filled guns, and even some grenades.
"I don't want any of you to speak," Mencheres said in the first words he spoke himself
since sitting down in front of the bones. "Not until I am finished."
And how are we supposed to know that? I thought. When you take a bow? When the
ground opens up and things crawl out from it? A memory of those horrible rotting
creatures flashed in my mind and I shuddered. Ugh, if I never saw one of them again, it
would be too soon.
Something prickled in the air, centering my attention back on the Egyptian vampire. His
head was bent, long hair hiding his expression, but through gaps in the black strands I saw
his eyes were glowing green. Next to me, Bones shivered, and I darted a glance at him. He
seemed fixated by Mencheres. I took his hand-and almost dropped it from the electric
sizzle that met my flesh. Whatever Mencheres was doing, it was also affecting Bones.
Apparently that exchange of power between the two of them still had a thread of
connection left. That disturbed me, though I couldn't say why.
All at once, the bones of the people who'd been killed last night rose from the tablecloth.
They hovered in the air, forming a circle around Mencheres, and the bones began swirling
around him.
At first they rotated slowly, hanging as if by invisible strings, but then their speed began to
pick up. They circled Mencheres, moving faster and faster, until soon it was hard to
distinguish any of their pieces except the skulls, grinning morbidly with their jaws
swinging in the tornadolike wind. Mencheres's hair blew all around him, and my flesh
crawled with a sensation of a million invisible ants. The power pouring off him intensified
to incredible degrees, until I wouldn't have been surprised to see lightning strike where he
sat.
With a crack, the whirling bones imploded around him, showering Mencheres in a fine
cloud of white. I gripped Bones's hand, not caring about the sear of voltage that seemed
to shoot up my arm, and stared in disbelief at the powdery remains of his friends. Dust to
dust, I thought numbly. Mencheres just blasted away all that was left of those brave men.
Why? Why would he do that?
Without raising his head, Mencheres pulled a knife from his lap. Then he stabbed it
straight into his heart.
I did gasp then, in openmouthed incredulity as he twisted the blade. Must be steel, not
silver, I found myself thinking. Or he'd be as dead as the grainy remains of those men
spackling him like grayish snow.
Dark blood poured from the wound, flowing as steadily as if his heart still beat. It covered
the knife, his hands, and his clothes with a murky crimson liquid. Soon I wasn't even
staring at that, however. I was staring with growing incomprehension as the red-smeared
powdery substance that was the bones of the men who'd died began to separate,
expand...and then form into figures.
"Madre de Dios," I heard Juan mutter, breaking Mencheres's edict of silence.
My own thought was less religiously charitable: What the hell is going on?
Before my gaze, it looked like ghosts formed, shrouding Mencheres. He was muttering
something in a language I couldn't even begin to recognize, and those hazy forms kept
increasing. They grew until they looked like shadows come to life, because I could still see
through them, but they were three-dimensional, all right. Three-dimensional figures of
opaque, naked men. One of them turned, and Bones let out a soft groan. Randy, I thought
in shock. That's Randy!
More of them formed from the bone dust that coated Mencheres. He kept the knife in his
chest, the wound continuing to bleed, until I wondered how he still had any juice left in
him. But the more he bled, the less hazy the figures looked, until I could pick out every
wraithlike person. There was Tick Tock, just a little to the side of Zero, oh God, Randy...
Only when all twenty-three people who'd been killed the night before stood around him
did Mencheres pull the knife out and speak.
"These are not our friends. They don't recognize any of you, and they have no memory of
their former lives. They are the mindless rage that lingers in the remains of all murdered
people, and I have yanked that rage from their bones and given it form. They will be
drawn to their murderer with the single-minded purpose of revenge. All we have to do
once I release them...is follow them. They will lead us right to Patra no matter where she
hides."
I'd barely wrapped my mind around that before Mencheres said an unknown word and the
wraiths shot up into the night like they'd been fired from ghostly cannons. Wow, were
they fast. How were we supposed to follow them?
Mencheres stood, raising his arms-and I screamed. The ground was twenty feet
away...thirty...fifty...more...
"We need to hurry," I heard him say amid my whipping my head around to see that every
person who'd been standing on the lawn was now airborne and being hurtled through the
night as if by invisible jet streams. "They will find her soon."
Patra was holed up in an abandoned hotel about eighty miles away as the crow flies. Or in
this case, the undead. Bones had me grasped to him, but it wasn't out of need, since
Mencheres was still pushing all of us along with an amount of power that was truly mindboggling.
In my wildest imaginings, I hadn't known it was possible for a vampire to do
these things, but here we were, following on the magic carpet of Mencheres's power
behind the vengeance-filled wraiths he'd raised. Later I'd ponder the significance of that.
Like when I wrote my report to Don and watched him faint while reading it.
The hotel was in the middle of a city slum. From the sounds, not many people lived here.
In fact, this area was probably going to be razed for new construction soon, because I
caught glimpses of bulldozers and other such equipment scattered around. Mencheres
brought us down about a hundred yards from the hotel. How did he know it was where
Patra was? Because the wraiths flew right into it, moving through the walls like they
weren't even there. Neat trick. Sure beat taking the stairs.
"You must cut through her people," he rasped to Bones, gesturing to the building. "I can't
go with you. If I am killed, the wraiths will fade, and they are the only things stopping
Patra from fighting against you."
They were sure doing something, I knew that. Moments after they'd disappeared into the
hotel, there were the most horrible ear-splitting screams.
"Why don't you just kill her yourself?" I blurted. "If you can raise vengeful spirits and
levitate two dozen people almost eighty miles, she should be a piece of cake."
Mencheres seemed to fall onto the sidewalk. "I can't," he whispered. "Even now, I can't."
A brief surge of pity filled me before I squelched it. He might still love Patra, but she
didn't return the sentiment, and we'd all be dead unless that woman was in the ground.
Bones gave him a cold, quick glance. "I'll keep my promise. We'll get you when it's over.
Juan, Dave, you stay with him. Make sure no one comes near."
Juan started to protest being left behind, but a warning glare cut him off. Then Bones
cracked his knuckles and faced the hotel.
"All right, mates. Let's end this."
Patra might have had several guards around the perimeter of the hotel. She might have had
some in windows, on the roof, in the basement, and manning the entrance. But if nothing
else, having twenty-three pissed-off wraiths suddenly swarm the hotel made for a hell of a
distraction. In addition to Patra's ceaseless screaming-what were they doing to her?-
there were the scrambling sounds of multiple people running up the stairs, new shouts, an
eruption of gunfire, and several odd popping noises. I cast a look at Bones and thought,
Huh? The rage-wrought specters weren't even solid, what could they be doing that would
make it sound like World War Three in there?
Bones shrugged. "One way to find out."
Once we reached the building's entrance, whatever guards had been stationed there were
gone. Spade frowned, shaking his head. Trap, he was saying. I took four grenades from
my belt, pulled the pins, and then chucked them inside. Second later, glass shattered and
the building shook as they detonated. Whoever might have been waiting for us wasn't
there now.
We rushed in, the vampires fanning out to the sides. Bones and I kept low but raced
forward. Those screams and awful noises from several floors up got louder. Finally we
saw about a dozen vampires burst through an entryway under what I supposed was the
grand staircase. They went down in a hail of silver before they even had a chance to back
up.
"Where is everyone?" I said low to Bones. Aside from that paltry dozen, the downstairs
seemed shockingly vacant.
Bones cocked his head. "There are more upstairs that I can hear. Something's got them in
shambles. It must be the wraiths, but I can't imagine how."
I agreed it sounded like a Chinese fire drill upstairs. People were screaming, footsteps
were thundering up and back, and there were more of those popping noises that were like
nothing I'd heard before them. Whatever was going on, Patra was still alive. She was the
one screaming the loudest.
Bones held out three fingers, indicating the group was to split up. Eight of us would take
the stairs, another eight would climb the exterior of the building, and the remaining eight
would go up the elevator shafts. It sounded like the most activity was about nine floors
up, near the top of the building, so that's where we were headed.
We were on the third floor when a small group of vampires came darting down the stairs.
They had blood covering them, their clothes were ripped-and they barely even looked in
our direction. But that didn't stop me from unloading my M-16 with silver-bullet
ammunition into them. They collapsed, their hearts shredded from the barrage of silver
from my gun and the men unleashing their own weapons by my side. Sure, knives were my
favorite, but this was easier when it came to distance killing.
There was more scrambling on the floor above us. Something was causing an all-out
panic. Surely it couldn't just be the sight of the wraiths? I mean, yeah, they were scarylooking,
but this wasn't a kids' slumber party they were crashing. This was the stronghold
of a Master vampire who'd been around when Jesus walked the earth. You'd think the
undead would be a little harder to rattle.
"This is almost too easy," Ian whispered, echoing my thoughts.
Vlad shot him a sardonic glance. "Never underestimate Patra's ability to make a grand
entrance."
"Stay sharp," Bones said. "Whatever's going on, the shank of it is taking place up there.
Let's join the party."
There were two more sets of vampires on our way up the stairs. They were each running
as if from hell itself, which made it more of a slaughter than a fight to take them down.
The closer we got, the more frenzied the commotion sounded above us. Finally we
reached the floor where the noise was the loudest, and followed those horrible screams to
the room they were coming from.
There was no guard at the door, and it was open. Vlad sent a ball of flame ahead of us, but
it didn't prove to be necessary. We entered the room without anyone jumping out at us,
and once inside, I stopped and stared.
Patra, far from the elegant, imposing figure I'd seen before, was writhing on the ground.
Blood came from her nose, mouth, eyes, and various parts of her body. All around her-
God, all through her-the wraiths converged. They coiled around her body like gray
snakes, whipping her about, diving straight into her only to come out the other side and do
it all over again. She kept screaming for help, in a number of languages, it sounded like.
Even as we watched, a wild-eyed vampire, who couldn't have been older than fifteen
when he was changed, was flung away from her with both arms missing. The wraith
nearest to him-was that Zero?-dove into his chest until it disappeared entirely. The
vampire screamed, and then there was a pop and he came apart. His head, legs, and torso
went in different directions. The wraith appeared out of the wreckage of his body, hovered
for a second, and then returned to Patra until he was indistinguishable from the other
blurring gray forms encasing her.
All around us were the bodies of her fallen guards. There were scores of them, and they
looked like they'd been similarly blasted from the inside out. Pieces of them, their clothing
and weapons were scattered everywhere. Those lethal shadows who'd done this amazing
amount of carnage ignored us and continued to pitilessly torment Patra.
She was contorted in agony, her skin bubbling up each time one of them drove in and out
of her. I was certain her insides had to be pureed from this. Seeing what they'd done to
her guards let me know they could have killed her if they'd wanted to. The fact that she
was still alive said their idea of vengeance was much more sinister than mere death.
Bones held his hand out. "Everyone stay back," he said, and gripped his knife.
I cast a frantic look at the decimated guards. "If you go near her, those wraiths will rip
you to pieces!"
He brushed my face. "Not me. Don't you see? Mencheres knew it would come to this. He
saw it. That's why he chose me to share his power with. It still connects us, so I'm the
only person they won't harm. I can feel them...and as they can't hurt him, they can't hurt
me."
He dropped his hand and walked toward Patra. I don't think she was even aware of him.
She didn't seem to be aware of anything even though her eyes were open. Blood
continued to streak from her as she was besieged by the merciless, tireless remains of the
men she'd murdered from her spell last night.
One of the grayish figures rose from her and streaked to Bones when he came within a
dozen feet. I started forward, but the whiplash of his voice stopped me.
"Stay back!"
I wasn't the only one who paused. So did the thing, who I saw with pained recognition
was Tick Tock. Or it used to be. All that was left of him now was a rage-filled shadow.
But he froze, hovering where he was even though he was quivering with what I guessed to
be a conflicting desire to attack.
Bones kept coming forward. I alternately gripped my knives and let them go in
frustration-not much good they could do against pissed-off phantoms! The other wraiths
soon slowed their assault on Patra to glare in Bones's direction. He held out a hand to
them in much the same way he'd done moments ago to us.
"Stay. Back."
Bones growled the words, and I felt the power roll off him with each syllable. The wraiths
responded by retreating with each forward step he took. Soon they weren't touching
Patra, but were poised in crouching threat on the ground just beyond where she lay.
After a few seconds, Patra quit her frenzied thrashing, and the countless welts on her
began to heal. Her eyes, those big, lovely dark orbs, lost some of their mindless panicand
then widened as she saw who was now standing over her.
"You're dead!" Patra exclaimed, as if saying it would make it real. She began to edge
away from him, stopped when she saw that she was inching closer to the silently snarling
wraiths with that motion, and then looked around for help.
"No, luv," Bones said with quiet grimness. "You are."
I saw realization grow on her face as her gaze took in the bodies of her fallen guards, the
rest of us standing in the doorway with numerous weapons at the ready, and the wraiths
forming an impenetrable barrier behind her. If ever a person was trapped, it was her, and
she knew it. Patra threw her head back and let out a cry of rage.
"Damn you, Mencheres! Do you have no mercy?"
I marveled at her nerve. After all she'd done, she truly expected Mencheres to step in and
save her? Knowing full well she'd just try to kill him as soon as he did?
Bones caught her when she attempted to scramble away. She yanked back, trying to
wrestle the knife from his hand...and that's when Mencheres shouldered past Spade.
For a split second, Patra froze. Her gaze-pleading, desperate-met his. A glance showed
his face was streaked with colored tears. I tensed, wondering if we'd have to jump on him
en masse to prevent him from interfering, when he bowed his head.
"Forgive me," he whispered.
Bones rammed his knife through Patra's chest, giving it a sharp twist that stilled her. Her
eyes were still fixed on Mencheres, an expression of pained disbelief stamped on her face.
Then, as inevitable as time itself, her features began to tighten. Her skin lost that lustrous
honey shine, and when Bones dropped her to the floor, she was already starting to wither.
Behind her body, an invisible wind blew. The twenty-three wraiths slowly disintegrated
into the breeze until there was nothing left of them but a faint gray dusting on the ground.
Bones let out a long sigh.
"Perhaps now you can rest in peace, my friends. Someday, I shall see you again."

EPILOGUE

We buried Randy a week later. Don falsified documents to make it appear
that Randy had been the victim of a tragic car accident. One that had necessitated a closed
coffin. Denise was staying with Bones and me, at my insistence. She blamed herself for not
forcing Randy to stay with her instead of leaving that room to help us. I tried to comfort
her, but in reality, I was helpless. There was nothing I could do but be there for her. I
couldn't do much, but I could do that.
Mencheres buried Patra himself. Where, I didn't know. Bones didn't, either, and he didn't
care. She was dead, that was enough for him.
It was enough for the remainder of her people as well. Some sought refuge under other
Masters' lines. Some struck out on their own, and some even contacted Bones to throw
themselves on his mercy. Depending on their place in her hierarchy, he granted it. After
all, Patra had been around for a long time, and killing every remaining person under her
line would have been mass murder on an epic scale.
A few were underlings who'd followed her with no choice, so for them, Bones negotiated
truces. They gave him the details on her fortune, and he gave them the right to live
without looking over their shoulders. Those higher in Patra's rule, however, Bones didn't
negotiate with. No, he used some of Patra's staggering wealth to offer bounties on them.
Mercenaries were crawling out of the proverbial woodwork to hunt them down with the
prices they had on their heads.
We hadn't seen Mencheres since the night he'd gathered Patra's body and left. That had
been over two months ago. He kept in touch by phone, but he was holed up somewhere.
Bones didn't press him, though he told me he couldn't understand what on earth had made
Mencheres love Patra to begin with, let alone after everything she'd done. I didn't
understand, either, but love had no sense sometimes. Pondering the why of it was futile.
So far there had been no repercussions for the forbidden magic Mencheres unleashed.
Some notable Master vampires had grumbled, but since Patra had pulled two no-nos to
our one, there weren't many who wanted to do anything about it. Or they were afraid of
Mencheres, since he was one of the few people who was both old enough to know those
spells-and strong enough to work them. Maybe they were concerned they'd be next. I
knew I was pretty glad to be on Mencheres's good side, after seeing all I had. The idea
that one day Bones might be able to wield similar power bothered me. Some things
shouldn't be possible, and it was scary to know they were.
But for now, I wasn't going to worry about it. I had the man I loved by my side, and my
best friend to help through her grief. The future would have to worry about itself.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I have to thank God first. No one else has the patience to listen to so many of my fears,
gripes, or countless ideas-at least, not without charging me therapy bills.
Next, sincerest thanks to my editor, Erika Tsang, for keeping me on track with my stories,
and going above and beyond with her support and enthusiasm.
The saying, "it takes a village," should apply to books as well, because many thanks are
due to Thomas Egner, for yet another gorgeous cover; Buzzy Porter, for helping get the
word out on my books; Carrie Feron, Liate Stehlik, Esi Sogah, Karen Davy, and the rest
of the dedicated team at Avon Books/HarperCollins, for more things than I'm probably
even aware of.
Thanks to Melissa Marr, Ilona Andrews, and Tage Shokker, for your invaluable early
feedback on how to make this story better. Also many thanks are due to Tage Shokker,
Erin Horn, and Marcy Funderburk, for all your hard work on my fan site. You ladies are
awesome!
To the Night Huntress fans, your support and excitement for this series have been
unbelievable. Thank you all so much! I couldn't do any of this without you.
Thanks to my husband, parents, and family. You keep me sane enough to write and crazy
enough to come up with new things to write about. (Just kidding! Maybe.) Thanks also
again to Melissa Marr, because winding roads are best traveled with friends.