The Master stared at her. Then, slowly, he released her, stepping back. “You killed my daughter,” he said. “I will not forget this.”

“She could have lived a long, long time if you hadn’t insisted on finding a way to turn her into what you wanted her to be,” said Jack. “She loved you so much. She would have done anything to please you.”

“And you killed her.”

“Yes. I’ll live with that for the rest of my life, however long that happens to be. Where is Dr. Bleak’s head, please?” Jack tilted her head, looking at him with polite anticipation. “This is an excellent storm. I’d like to take advantage of it.”

“If you bring him back…”

“If I bring him back, I’ll be vulnerable. I’m aware. Only one monster at a time, and all that. But you see, I love him, and children will do anything for their fathers. His head, please, and we’ll be on our way.”

The Master curled his lip in disgust. “You’ll have your head. I knew you should have belonged to me,” he said, and spun on his heel, and swept away.

“I wish there’d been time to get my gloves,” said Jack, still in that impossibly level, impossibly calm voice. “I can take them once we recover the body, I suppose, but there’s always the chance she’s leaking on the leather. I’ll have to scrub my hands with lye when I get back to the windmill. It’s the only way to be sure.”

“Jack?” Kade took a cautious step forward. “Are you…?”

“There are only a certain number of possible ways to end that question, and the answer to all of them is ‘no,’” said Jack. “No, I’m not okay. No, I’m not going to be okay. No, no, no. Everything is terrible. I’ve killed my sister. Again. I was always the monster at the end of her story, and she died knowing everything she thought about me was true.” She shook her head. “I want to leave this place. Can we go?”

“Yeah,” said Kade gently. “We can go.”

They descended the stairs into the castle in the order that had brought them there: Jack, then Sumi, then Kade and Cora, and last of all Christopher, whose hands were finally still.

When they reached the hall outside Jill’s room, Jack kept walking, bringing them to a wide interior stairway. Jill’s nightgown flared out around Jack’s feet with every step, and her hair was loose and wild, and she looked every inch the vampire’s daughter, an illusion that was reinforced when every servant they passed shied away from her, terror in their eyes.