“We can’t let them into human hospitals or the general population. I don’t like keeping them captive, but—”

“We have to. We’ve worked too hard to hide the existing infections from the human hospitals. And it’s not as if they can do anything for ’em.”

Murphy had gone so far as to set up a private hospital outside the city where most of the human Elixir victims had been treated. But like sanatoriums of old, humans addicted to Elixir truly went there to die.

“We’ll secure the warehouse,” Tom continued. “Make them as comfortable as possible. A lot of them are in very poor health already. Declan has a call in to Baojia’s people in California. He handles the security at the facility there, and we’re hoping he’ll have some ideas.”

“I’ve heard of him.”

“He’s also close friends with Lucien Thrax, the doctor working on it. We’ll do the best we can.”

“Does Brigid know about this?”

“Not yet.”

Brigid had lost one of her closest human friends to Elixir, one of the first cases they’d ever seen in Ireland.

“I don’t like leaving the city with this hanging over you, Tom.”

Tom shook his head. “We’ll handle it. You need to go to London, boss. Now more than ever.”

IF there was ever a time when Murphy needed to hit something—and hard—it was that night. He’d toured the warehouse not long after Andrew Garvey had left his office, overseeing the preparations from a distance. Elixired humans were more than tempting to vampires. Even the most self-controlled of his lieutenants had confessed to temptation near them. Thus, security for the converted warehouse had to be overseen by his most trusted humans.

They were all angry. Brigid was wrecked. Anne was silent. Every vampire in his organization was on edge. No coincidence then that Carwyn had agreed to enter the ring with Murphy.

Both men stripped off their shirts and tossed them over the railing. There were no humans in the club that night. Murphy had sent them all home early. He’d asked Tom for a bout, only to have the behemoth of an earth vampire volunteer.

“No holding back?” Murphy said. “This should be interesting.”

“Are you sure you want that?” Carwyn asked.

“You think I asked Tom for a fight because I wanted easy?”

Murphy bounced on his toes, the water in the room already drawn to his skin, coating it in a fine sheen of what looked like sweat. He flexed his wiry body and eyed Carwyn’s bulk.

No way could that giant move fast enough to beat him, but if he got his hands on Murphy, all bets were off. Taking a punch from that bear of a man would put him down.

Carwyn flexed his hands and smiled. “Say when, lad.”

“You won’t be saying anything, old man.”

The first blow caught Carwyn mid-laugh. His jaw snapped back as Murphy punched him full in the mouth.

“Bloody hell,” the old earth vampire muttered, flexing his jaw. “They weren’t exaggerating.”

Anne called from the ropes, “He was a bare-knuckles champion in his human years for a reason, Carwyn.”

Puffed up from her words, Murphy almost missed the blur of movement that could have meant his end. He spun and dodged at the last millisecond. Was Carwyn boxing or wrestling?

Did he care?

Fighting at vampire speed meant that all his senses had to be alert. His heart pumped in time with his steps. One-one-two. One-one-two. He had speed, but Carwyn had strength. They flew around the ring faster than human eyes would be able to track.

Murphy released his anger on the other immortal. His rage. His frustration.

The children would die, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Another punch, this time to Carwyn’s kidney.

He couldn’t stem the river of drugs into his city with so many ships and only the slim night hours to properly police them.

Carwyn’s fist glanced off Murphy’s cheek, splitting it open and releasing a torrent of blood. He felt his fangs drop and cut twin slices on his lower lip.

Murphy had lost a son to this madness, and it had ripped out his heart. He’d almost lost his own mind.

The pain fed the rage until all he felt was the loop of sensation, the quick burning pleasure of anger and ache. Ducking behind his opponent, Murphy landed two vicious blows to Carwyn’s kidneys before he dodged away.

But he couldn’t avoid the roundhouse punch to the jaw the earth vampire finally landed.

Th-thunk. Thunk.

Murphy crashed through the ropes and skidded on the concrete floor outside the ring, shredding his skin as he rolled. Carwyn didn’t stop. He followed and crouched to land another blow, but Murphy had already turned away, sending Carwyn’s fist cracking into the floor as Murphy leaped on the other man’s back, fixing his ropy arms around Carwyn’s neck and pulling hard.

He could hear Tom and Declan shouting in the background. Hear Brigid and Anne yelling. He pulled back harder, felt Carwyn’s collarbone snap under his arm. Felt his own blood pouring from his eyes and mouth and nose.

Carwyn reached up and patted his arm gently. “I yield, lad.”

Murphy gripped tighter.

“There now, Murphy.” Carwyn’s words were faint because Murphy was cutting off most of his air, but the bigger vampire was utterly patient. “I yield.”

Murphy released Carwyn’s neck with a gasp, blood clouding his vision as he rolled to the side and spread his arms, his skin knitting together as he stared at the ceiling of the old gymnasium.