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  “I owe you nothing,” he said, his voice low and rasping.

  She ignored his words, showing neither fear nor sorrow. Serene, trembling very slightly, she closed her eyes and tipped her head back and to the side, offering him her throat. The scent of her, of her skin and her breath and the blood on her finger, drifted up to taunt him, to rouse his hunger—and his memories, memories that were best left buried.

  Laughing children, a loving wife, the comfort of a warm fire at the end of a long day. Contentment … yes, dammit, he had once been content.

  And now he was damned.

  Fuck it. He’d never liked the bitch queen anyway. “Let’s go,” he said, grabbing Nevada’s arm and dragging her toward the door. She tripped along, unsteady, surprised. And judging by the expression on her face, very annoyed.

  In the past three years Nevada had seen glimpses of the hallway outside her door, and she’d visited some rooms and passageways via remote viewing, but the rest of the big house had always been a mystery to her. It wasn’t as if she’d seen every detail when she’d walked about in spirit only. She didn’t see much now, as Sorin hustled her down the stairs, past other vamps who didn’t dare to question his right to have her.

  The house was very nice, for a vampire lair.

  The kitchen he led her into was almost untouched; she recognized the remnants of her own meal—the meal she’d assumed would be her last and had been unable to eat.

  “Where are you taking me?” she asked. She had hoped he’d kill her quickly and with a minimum of pain. Nevada realized that she had to die, but that didn’t mean she wanted to hurt.

  “I’m letting you go,” Sorin said curtly. “When you’re out the back door, head west. Run. Run as fast as you can and don’t look back.”

  She stopped in her tracks. She was nowhere near a match for Sorin, strength-wise, but she caught him by surprise and his hold on her slipped. “You can’t let me go!”

  He stared at her as if she’d lost her mind. “I don’t understand. I’m risking everything to let you go, and you’re arguing with me?”

  She could hardly explain to him that, fully expecting to die, she’d tied the breaking of the spell to her heartbeat. She hadn’t been sure that the bitch would release her family before the spell was broken, so she’d had to make it work. Still, she’d known she was going to die, so attaching the whole shebang to her heartbeat had made sense. The world wouldn’t be vulnerable for more than a few minutes. As soon as she was dead, the spell would be back in force and human homes would once again be safe from vampires.

  She hadn’t counted on Sorin actually releasing her. He couldn’t do that! Her best hope had been that he’d help her family. This … this was cruel, because it gave her back the hope she’d lost a long time ago. She really wanted to live, but her survival meant every human in the world was vulnerable. Could she recast the original spell to make home a sanctuary from the vampires? Of course she could, but, God, how long would it take? How many people would die in the meantime?

  The world would be a safer place if she died tonight, but she was weaker than she’d thought; she liked the idea of living, of finding her family and keeping them safe. She wanted to see the sun again, fall in love, laugh, lose herself in a silly movie or a sad book.

  “Never mind,” she said. “I’ll go. Thanks. Which way is west? Just point.”

  Sorin’s eyes narrowed, and he moved so he effectively blocked her path. “What are you up to?”

  “Do you really want to know?” She’d been right about him, after all. He could’ve killed her, he was supposed to have killed her, but he hadn’t been able to do it. She’d been right in seeing more in him, in sensing the more that lay beneath his skin, behind his eyes.

  He surprised her then, at a time and in a place she thought held no more surprises. The vampire who’d kidnapped her, held her prisoner, threatened her and her family, and in the end saved her, took her face in his hands, leaned down, and placed his lips on her forehead. She was sure he also inhaled deeply.

  Nevada held her own breath for a moment, and a moment was all she had. An explosion of glass and an unearthly scream from the front of the house interrupted the gentle kiss. Moving so fast she felt as if she were flying, Sorin carried her a few feet to the left and all but threw her into a small storage space beneath the back stairs. She grunted and her arm slammed against the wooden wall as she landed. The door slammed, and Nevada found herself trapped in a small place, in complete darkness, while outside her new prison what sounded very much like war raged.

  She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Anything might be happening out there, anything at all. But was it possible that the net she’d cast had caught a hero or two, after all?

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Three vampires and one human attacking a stronghold filled with an unknown number of rebels was ridiculous, but Luca didn’t see that he had any choice. Surprise was the best advantage they had. It wasn’t the first time in his long life that he’d gone into battle against long odds.

  He would’ve given anything to have a safe place to leave Chloe, but like it or not the safest place for her was with him, no matter where he had to be, even if that place was here.

  Duncan had always had a flair for the dramatic. He leapt through a large bay window, glass shattering as he gave one of his demonic yells. Isaac was a little less flamboyant, and was satisfied to burst through the front door.

  Luca was right behind them, his senses on full alert as he homed in on the center of the energy that filled the house. The sharp pang of a hunger for power pulsed from beneath his feet, and it was so close, familiar. For a moment he was washed in that energy, and the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. He should’ve known. She’d always wanted more, for herself and for the kindred.

  The vampires in the house weren’t prepared for attack. This wasn’t the time they’d planned to begin the fight in earnest, and they certainly hadn’t expected resistance from their own kind. Many of them were new, new to rebellion and to the life of a vampire. They were all unarmed—thinking themselves safe here, thinking they had time before they launched their attack. They were confused by the sight of three vampires and a human woman who wielded a flashlight and a sword, both rather clumsily.

  Before the rebels gathered their wits and were able to fight back, Luca was swinging his sword. With attackers coming from all directions, a properly wielded blade was the most efficient weapon; he could use his unnatural strength to its fullest. Eventually he might need the shotgun and the handguns, but those weapons operated at human speed, and sometimes they weren’t fast enough. The sword was a part of him, an extension of his body. He’d been fighting with a sword since before he’d turned ten.

  In the wide foyer, the formally decorated parlor, and the hallway splintering off the center of the house, bodies tangled in battle. Luca counted himself lucky that so far those they faced were young and inexperienced, as well as ill-prepared. Chloe’s flashlight was effective on fledglings who were still so sensitive to light; it was enough to keep them away from her, which was all that was necessary.

  Even when the rebels realized what was happening and attempted to defend themselves, they failed. None were as battle-trained as the three vampires who fought like whirling dervishes, at the same time doing their best to keep Chloe in the middle of them.

  Between them, Isaac and Duncan had fought in almost as many battles as Luca had, and like him they’d served the Council in past years, as hunters or bodyguards. Like Luca, they saw the value in maintaining the secrecy of their existence. They also enjoyed a good fight now and then, and good fights were hard to come by in a modern world.

  Swords flashed, slicing through vampire flesh, sending rebels to blood and then to dust. They didn’t attempt to wound their opponents but inflicted only killing blows.

  Beyond the bloodshed and the dust, Luca caught sight of a familiar head of blond hair, as Sorin ran from the rear part of the house and disapp