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  Sorin used the sword he’d taken from the rebel to sever another head, and then another. He shifted so his back was to the conduit, his body placed so that, between him and Luca, she was guarded. The tide quickly turned; it took only a few moments for the rebels to grasp the fact that their leader was against them. Almost as one, those who were still alive turned and fled.

  And Luca turned to Sorin, sword raised.

  “No!” the conduit shouted, shoving against him. “He—I don’t know why, but he’s fighting with us.”

  “I know,” Luca said. “I just don’t understand why.”

  Sorin lowered his sword, taking the chance that he wouldn’t soon be a pile of dust, like the others. “Hell, Luca, neither do I.”

  For the moment Isaac and Duncan were holding their own upstairs—she knew because no one else had come down the stairs—and the vampires in the basement had backed off. They weren’t gone, though. Even Chloe, totally untrained in battle, knew that much.

  The basement was like a maze, with crisscrossing hallways and closed doors and echoing noises she couldn’t quite place. With Luca on one side and Sorin on the other, she was as safe as could be, all things considered. She never would’ve thought to trust Sorin, but he’d saved her life tonight, more than once.

  “Why did you bring her along?” Sorin demanded angrily as they worked their way down a hallway. The two men worked in concert, making sure each room was clear before they let her walk past the door. They were moving deeper into the basement, searching for Regina.

  “Where could I leave her? Jonas knows where she is every minute. She isn’t safe anywhere, unless I can stop this madness.”

  “Jonas is dead. She killed him.”

  Luca’s eyes went as cold and gray as frost.

  “The sanctuary spell is broken,” Sorin continued.

  “Already? It’s done?” Luca asked.

  “Yes.”

  Chloe felt as if her insides were being ripped apart. No one was safe now. Not her parents, not her friends … no one. They were too late.

  Luca cleared another room, moved past the door. “What changed your mind?” he asked.

  Sorin slanted an inscrutable look at Chloe as he mirrored Luca’s movements. “Some humans are worth saving,” he finally said. He gave her a wicked grin. “They’re too yummy to let anything happen to them.”

  Chloe edged closer to Luca. Yummy? She tightened her grip on the flashlight, which so far had proved to be much handier than the short sword.

  “They deserve to live,” Luca said, without arguing about the yummy part.

  “Some of them deserve to live,” Sorin clarified, and then he sighed. “The problem is, how do you decide which ones?”

  They reached an intersecting hallway. Luca halted, his head tilted a little, then he shot out a muscular arm and shoved Chloe behind him. The next instant a half dozen vampires exploded from the shadows toward them. Someone fired a gun, the sound deafening in the close confines of the basement. Sorin jolted, then grinned and launched himself forward, not even slowed down by the bullet he’d taken. If the shooter wasn’t accurate, a gun wasn’t much good against a vampire.

  Another shot blasted her ears, and Chloe instinctively fell back. Maybe those bullets wouldn’t do much damage to the vampires, but they’d kill her.

  Luca and Sorin took up a back-to-back position in the hallway, and between them they blocked any of the attacking vampires from getting past. She backed up a little more, out of reach of those long, slashing blades. Blood arced, and choking dust filled the air. These vampires were better fighters than the first wave had been; reinforcements had arrived. Luca and Sorin were holding their own, but were harder pressed. Sorin shifted in her direction and she backed up a few feet, out of his way. She felt stupidly helpless. All she could do was watch and pray and try not to trip them up—

  Maybe not. Maybe there was something she could do to help.

  Chloe leaned her sword against the wall, close at hand if she needed it, but even though it was short it was heavy, and she knew she didn’t have a chance against a vampire in any kind of a sword fight. The flashlight was heavy, too; she almost needed both hands to lift it. She steadied it, aimed it, and turned it on. The powerful beam hit one of the rebel vampires, touched his neck and cheek, and instantly blistered his skin. Before she could adjust her aim to shine it into his eyes, the rebel whirled and kicked the flashlight out of her hands. It went flying across the concrete floor, rolling away, and the light went out.

  Chloe grabbed for her sword, but even as she did she knew she wasn’t fast enough. The vampire she’d burned with the light was coming for her.

  Luca spun, already swinging his sword, and took the vampire’s head.

  Chloe dove for the flashlight. Maybe it wasn’t broken. Maybe the battery had just been jarred loose, and she could get it working again.

  “Call me!” The Warrior’s voice came more crisp and clear than ever. There had been a time when that voice had terrified Chloe, but now it was a strange comfort. “You need me.”

  “Promise me!” Chloe silently demanded. She grabbed the flashlight, leaned against the wall as she shook it, turned off the switch, then turned it on again. Nothing.

  Swearing under her breath, she unscrewed the cap, then retightened it. Her knees were shaking, she trembled down to every bone. The flashlight flickered, then went out again. The din of battle was deafening in the hallway, blood was everywhere, dust clogged the air. Oh God, she was breathing secondhand vampire.

  “Call me!”

  “You have to promise. Luca is mine! He saved me, he’s fighting for us!” She loved him, too, but that wasn’t an argument likely to sway a warrior. “You’ll need him.”

  For a moment there was silence from the Warrior in the other world. Then, reluctantly, she said. “I promise. Call me, now!”

  Chloe looked for Luca; he and Sorin were being drawn farther down the hallway by the rebel vampires who continued to arrive on the scene. The fight was a blur of silver, flesh, blood, and that bitter gray dust. She anxiously watched him, trying to focus on him.

  “Ask! Call my name!” Indie’s request burned with urgency.

  “Indie! Come on in,” Chloe said.

  “Name!” Indie demanded, the sound fierce.

  Chloe closed her eyes and tried to remember the dreams she’d had, the name she’d heard. Why was it so hard? It was like trying to remember the title of a movie, or the name of someone you hadn’t seen in a long time, the right answer was there, on the tip of the tongue. Indi-something. Indie …

  “Relax, and listen.”

  Chloe took a deep breath, she opened her eyes, and there it was. She knew it as well as she knew her own name. “Please help us, Indikaiya.”

  There was a burst of light, a glow that hurt her eyes. She leaned against the wall, gripping the broken flashlight. Luca and Sorin had moved even farther away; she could hear Luca calling her name. No, the call was in her head, like Indie’s voice, but it was just as clear as if he’d been standing beside her.

  Move closer. You’re too far away.

  But she couldn’t move, not yet. Indie was taking shape before her. There was that braid she’d seen first, now hanging over well-shaped muscular shoulders, the hint of Indie that had so haunted Chloe because it hadn’t made sense. Indie was a tall woman, strong and determined—and armed with a sword.

  In seconds, Indikaiya was solid. She turned to face Chloe, and she smiled, with pride and love and a fierce joy. The Warrior had a strong and striking face, not pretty, exactly, but somehow beautiful. She looked like a long-legged European model … if models had muscles and wore short leather shifts.

  “Thank you,” she said, and then she turned and ran, following the fight that had called her here.

  Chloe called after her, “Luca and the big blond are on your side!” just in case. She’d come here wishing Sorin dead, but she wouldn’t want to rob Luca of a much-needed ally in this fight, even if that ally had once tried to