Sylas stops, exchanging a glance with the red-headed girl again. The other three Day Takers spread across the front section of the building, so there’s a wall of bodies and Aiden’s lying unconscious on the floor in front of them. They’re trapping me, but for what purpose I’m not sure.

It’s enough for me to run, though.

I slip down the hall, hearing the commotion rising behind me like a wave. Sylas is calling orders out to them, not in English, but in the language of the Highers. There’s a glass door at the end of the hall and the obvious thing would be to run out. But I’m not a fan of the obvious or with leaving Aiden behind.

I dive into a nearby room and shut the door behind me. It’s black as death and I can hear the echo of their footsteps trampling down the hall; one, two, three sets of footsteps and then nothing. Two more are out there somewhere. It feels like I’m being chased by vampires, with no pulse to guide me. And I’m going in more blindly with the Day Takers. Do they bite? Feed? What’s their thing? Aiden said they were killers, but in what sense?

Another set of footsteps pad down the hall. These are lazy and careless and they pause in front of the door. I press my lips together, scooting to the side of the door. It clicks open, bringing a shudder with it. I poise my knife out in front of me as someone steps in. I close my eyes, take a breath, and lunge out, slamming my body into theirs. It’s like hitting a rock wall, and we both tumble out the door and to the floor. There’s a rustle and then I’m on top of him.  Sylas. He seems to think this is funny and lets me straddle him and presses my knife to his throat, refusing to fight back.

“Done?” he asks with a raise of his eyebrow.

I don’t know what to do with this, so I crack my knuckles into his cheek.

“Ow,” he chuckles, clutching his jaw. “What’d you do that for?”

I hold my knife to his throat. “I don’t know.”

He laughs again and I get the feeling that this is all one big joke to him and that really he could take things over whenever he wanted. “Go head.” He takes my hand, pushing it against his neck.

I look into his black eyes, wondering what it would be like if I did; if I just took his life. That’s when I realize I can’t—I don’t have it in me. I think that’s when I realize that the odds of me turning out to be a Higher are low because I don’t have killer instincts, at least without good cause.