“They’re coming,” I whispered. “And I can’t outrun them like this.” Kieran nodded grimly, swinging an odd-looking gun out of its harness.

“Holy water,” he explained. I made sure I was well out of the trajectory of his modified bullets. “Stay behind me,” he said needlessly. I was already behind him, using a maple tree to prop myself up, a bouquet of sharpened stakes in my hand.

The smell of rotting vegetation and mushrooms was overpowering to my suddenly sensitive nostrils. I gagged.

“They’re here.”

Their speed alone was terrifying, along with the animal gleam to their eyes. They practically floated, pale as wraiths, slender to the point of being skeletal. Their fangs were sharp and pointed, but so was every other tooth in their head. One of them licked his lips at me.

“Just a taste, princess,” he drawled. “You might like it. What do you say?” I whipped a stake at his chest and he exploded into dust the color of lichen. All vampires crumbled to ash. If I died during the bloodchange, I’d turn to ash too, but it might take a few hours. Uncle Geoffrey claimed it was a Darwinian safety mechanism, to make sure we were never discovered as a species, even after we died.

And this was so the wrong time to be thinking about it.

The others hissed and snarled and all the hairs on my arms stood up. Kieran fired his gun. Light burst like embers whirling through the air, like a carnival trick. Another scent joined the wet rot: singed flesh, burning hair.

“There are too many of them,” Kieran grunted. I just grunted back and threw another stake. It missed its mark and was hurled back at us so quickly it pinned the flared hem of my dress to the trunk. Bark flew off in bits, biting into my legs. I swore and yanked myself free.

“Too close,” I murmured, nearly tired enough not to care if I fell over and was eaten.

“Stay with me,” Kieran snapped, firing again. A Hel-Blar flew like a rag doll, crashed into one of his friends. I was already on my knees. That patch of thick ferns looked so inviting. Kieran hauled me up with one arm, still firing with the other.

“You’re supposed to run away,” I mumbled through a yawn. “You promised.”

“The hell I did.” He shoved me behind a massive elm tree. “We have to get out of here. Any of your secret gates around here?”

The moonlight was almost as bright as sunlight, searing my pupils. Everything else was blurry. I squinted, tried to make out the shape of the trees around us, the valleys, the location of the river.

“Over there?” I suggested hesitantly. “On the other side of that valley. Maybe.” He kept firing, to give us some cover, and I concentrated on not passing out.

Those jagged rocks looked just as comfortable as the ferns. Just a little nap.

“Don’t you dare,” Kieran said sharply. “You can’t sleep yet.”

“But I’m so tired.”

“Keep moving.”

“Wait. The rocks . . .” I rubbed my eyes. “There’s a gate behind those rocks.”

“Good, get—ooof.” A dagger bit into his arm, cut through thick leather and skin.

Blood welled like plump raspberries. He gritted his teeth. “Just a cut. Keep moving.” I had to crawl through the undergrowth, feeling through the dead leaves for the handle. The iron was cool under my fingers, the rust rough against my palm.

“Got it.”

Kieran kicked out at a Hel-Blar who was far too close for comfort. He kicked out again, switched his gun for one that shot little vials. The first one hit the ground and broke open, releasing a cross between mist and powder. It was delicate as lace, hovering in the air. I felt funny, entranced by the way it clung to leaves and the Hel-Blar.

Hypnos.

“Stop,” Kieran commanded grimly. The Hel-Blar paused, confused. They hissed frantically but didn’t move. I didn’t move either. “You,” he said to the vampires straining against invisible chains. “You’ll get the hell out of here and you won’t come back. You’ll keep running until you’re clear out of the country. And if you try to drink a single drop from any human, you’ll walk straight into the next sunrise.” A howl, a grunt.

“Go.” They shuffled away. I lay where I was, unable to move. Kieran crouched beside me, his expression regretful but determined,

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Kier—”

“Shhh,” he interrupted. “Don’t say anything.” The Hypnos powder worked through me, making my limbs heavy, my voice falter. “I have to do this, Solange,” he murmured. He brushed a kiss over my forehead, gentle as moth wings. Anger and fear burned through me, betrayal was a conflagration that might burn the entire forest to the ground. When I’d suggested he betray me, I hadn’t thought he’d take me literally. I’d been a fool to trust him.

And now it was too late.

CHAPTER 22

Lucy

Sunday evening, later still

“I don’t know how I let you talk me into this,” Nicholas muttered as we ducked into the corridor. “It’s a bad idea.”

“It’s brilliant,” I insisted with more certainty than I actually felt. The corridor was damp and cold and confining and hardly gave us an advantage in a fight. But the only alternative was the woods, which were swarming with renegade Helios agents.

Sometimes my life was just weird.

Nicholas stayed close, his arm stretched behind him so that his hand could grip mine. I tugged experimentally. He tugged back.