Ray D’s fingers twitched in my direction. His chest rose, and he whispered something so faint I could barely hear it. “Maybe I can be with her again in hell. . . .”

My hand trembling, I placed the tip of dauda-dagr against his breastbone. Stefan reached down to adjust my hand, relocating the tip under Ray’s chin. “What I did takes a great deal of physical strength,” he said in a quiet voice. “It would be better and quicker to thrust upward into the brainpan.”

Closing my eyes, I did it.

And yes, it was awful.

Ray D convulsed, his broken body arching. I felt his death flow into dauda-dagr. A final death, a lasting death. The weight of it settled onto my shoulders, into my soul. I had taken a life.

All at once, Ray’s body vanished.

It was just . . . gone.

I looked at Stefan. His pupils were wide, and there was hunger and envy and regret in his gaze.

“He has gone to the final death,” he said formally, rising to his feet. “But our business is not yet concluded here.”

After Cody handcuffed Jerry Dunham’s wrists behind his back, we went outside and waited in the driveway. Someone had turned on the outdoor lights, and it wasn’t long before Mary Sudbury limped into the circle of illumination. She was barefoot, having lost her shoes or kicked them off to run. Brambles and stray branches had scratched her porcelain skin, tangled her golden hair.

Three wolves sat on their haunches just outside the pool of light, red tongues lolling, eyes reflecting green. Oddly enough, I recognized two of them: Cody’s brother Caleb and his wife, Jeanne. Don’t ask me how, but I did.

“Thanks, guys,” Cody said to them. “We’ll take it from here.”

The wolves melted into the darkness.

“I’m sorry,” Mary said in a little-girl voice, clasping her hands in front of her. “I didn’t mean to do anything wrong. Where’s Raymond?”

I felt sick.

“Raymond’s gone, Mary,” Stefan said gently. “And you have a choice to make, a very hard choice.”

“I don’t understand.” Her gaze met his, her pupils fixed and dilated. “Raymond promised to take care of me. And I’m hungry, ever so hungry!” She sniffled. “Will you take me home to my sister?”

Stefan shook his head. “I’m afraid that’s over. You must choose your ending, Mary.”

“But I don’t want to!” she said plaintively. “I don’t understand! It isn’t fair!”

No, it wasn’t. My palm, wrapped around dauda-dagr’s hilt, was slick with sweat. “I can’t do this,” I whispered. “She’s right; it’s not fair. She’s ill, for God’s sake! She’s mentally ill!”

“Life isn’t fair, Daisy,” Cody murmured.