“But the fence,” I said. “The healing’s not just in your hands.”

Sal threw his shoulders back with pride. “That’s uniquely me. No one else can do it.”

“Do what?”

“Transfer the power. Discovered it by accident. I was carving a fresh set of stakes and thinking about . . .” He faltered, his expression distant for a second, before continuing. “Thinking about how I wished we could heal instead of kill, and the first time I went out with those stakes—the vamps I hit did not turn to smoke.”

“They turned human,” I said with quiet awe.

For all the power wielded by vampires—the strength, the speed, the memory manipulation—one step through Sal’s gate, and it was all undone.

“They did. Instead of smoke, they became flesh and blood, but it wasn’t what I expected.” He grimaced. “Turns out, when humans get staked in the chest, it’s not too pretty. They . . . didn’t make it.”

“How sad,” Reg said.

“Yuck,” I added.

“So I wondered if there was a way to channel the healing into objects so that it could change immortal to mortal without physical harm. It took years, but I perfected it.”

“Excuse me.” I held up a disagreeing finger. “That thing that happened to us in the front yard was not without physical harm.”

Sal chuckled. “Fair enough. But if you ask my family, it doesn’t hurt enough.”

“They’re not proud of what you do?” Reg asked.

“Proud?!” Sal threw his head back and laughed until he coughed. “I am a black scorch on the Sicarius name. Reforming vamps instead of smoking them? Shameful stuff.”

But I could tell by the way he said it, with glee in every word, that he wasn’t the least bit ashamed.

“I do miss the action though,” Sal said with a wink.

“It’s unfortunate it doesn’t work the other direction,” Reg said. “Or can you . . . ?”

Sal shook his head. “I’m no vampire,” he said. “I can’t make you. I can only unmake you.”

For a second, he almost looked like he pitied us. “I don’t recommend going back to the dark side, but if that’s what the Elders agree to, I won’t stop it. This is just business for me. Wait to see what the Shadows say. In the meantime, find yourself a distraction.”

“Like what?” I asked.

“I don’t know. Ask your new friends. Join a club or a sport or something.”

I pouted. “The only sport we know is hunting.”

“I hear ya,” Sal said.

The kitchen fell into an awkward silence as we realized we’d once hunted each other.