“Claire,” Amelie whispered, “come here.”

She backed away slowly. There wasn’t any real chance of her escaping, not from the two of them. She’d seen too much; she knew that. Heard too much they wanted to conceal.

And she’d served her purpose in luring Magnus there. They didn’t need her anymore.

“No way in hell,” she said, and broke for the stairs.

She didn’t quite make it there before Amelie had her in those ice-cold wrinkled hands. She bent Claire’s head to one side, brushed her hair aside with a calm, gentle gesture, and said, “You’ll have a rare honor, Claire. You will become one of us. Few deserve it more. It is the highest compliment I can give. And it will please Myrnin, as well.”

“No,” Claire whispered. “No, don’t—”

“No,” echoed another voice, and it was punctuated by the thick metallic sound of a shotgun being pumped for the next round. “Not her. No way in hell.”

She somehow thought she’d see Shane there, Shane defending her, but it wasn’t him at all.

Eve’s brother Jason was standing at the top of the stairs, a shotgun in his hands. He still looked pale and shaky, but determined. “No way in hell do you take her instead of me,” he said. “Naomi promised. She promised I’d be turned. You’re going to do it or I’ll kill you all.”

Oliver snarled, showing teeth, but Amelie held out a hand toward him. “No,” she said as Jason aimed the shotgun. “He’s quite serious. He will fire. He’s too close for it not to do significant damage to at least one of us.” She considered him for a moment, then gave him a slow, cool smile. “Very well.”

“Very well what?” Jason didn’t lower the shotgun. His eyes were wild behind it. “Swear. Swear as the Founder that you’ll turn me.”

“I swear as the Founder that you will be turned,” Amelie said. “I need the blood, and we have lost significant numbers of our ranks in this war. You will be … useful.”

Jason nodded, took a deep breath, and lowered his weapon. “Let Claire go first.”

Amelie opened both hands and spread them wide, stepping away from Claire. She stumbled forward, not quite daring to come near Jason, either. He gave her a disinterested glance, then moved away from the stairs.

He walked straight toward Amelie.

She came up in one smooth, vicious motion, and all the restraint she’d shown with Oliver was suddenly, awfully gone. Her eyes flared bloodred, and she buried her fangs in Jason’s neck. Claire couldn’t look away, somehow; that could have been her, should have been her.

It didn’t take long. Jason collapsed, and Amelie took his weight in her arms, drinking until finally she shuddered, pulled away, and let him fall limply to the carpet.

She looked at Oliver as she wiped the blood from her mouth. She seemed almost herself again. Almost. But there was something savage and bright in her eyes that Claire had never seen before.