With a snarl, I launched myself at Bee. “That’s what Blythe said, too. That the ritual was for the best, and look what it did to you. Can you honestly”—I sucked in a breath as Bee’s branch grazed my knuckles—“say it was for the best?”

I wished now I’d picked a looser dress. The tight sheath skirt made it hard to maneuver quickly, and Bee’s dress was a lot more voluminous, giving her a freedom of movement I just did not have.

We stumbled across the stage, the music from Swan Lake still blasting through the auditorium, our arms a blur of thrusts and swings and blows. Bee’s hair had completely fallen by now, and her long blond curls swung around her face as we fought. Her face was blotchy with tears and sweat, and I knew mine was, too.

“Let him go!” Bee yelled again, and this time, when her branch hit me square in the chest, I fell to my knees. Even over the music, I could hear a gasp from the audience.

Pressing one hand against the stage, I tried to catch my breath. My body ached from David being in danger, and I could feel every one of Bee’s hits. I’d only ever fought another Paladin like this—seriously—once, the night I’d killed Dr. DuPont. I realized then that every cell inside me was crying out to kill Bee. That she was the thing standing between me and David. But for once, my mind was overriding my instincts.

No matter what my duty, no matter that she had lied to me and led us to this, this was Bee, and I couldn’t kill her. Not for David, not for Pine Grove. Not for anything.

She swung the branch down in an arc toward my head, probably hoping to knock me out.

I reached up with one hand and caught the wood in my palm. The shock of it jarred all the way down to my shoulder, but I used the branch to leverage myself back into a standing position. Gripping Bee’s branch as hard as I could, I looked into her tear-streaked face.

“I’m sorry,” I gritted out, and then I swung.

I pulled back at just the right moment, the branch glancing off her temple instead of crashing into her skull. But it was still enough to make her eyes roll back, and Bee slumped to a sequined heap on the floor.

At that exact moment, the music cut off, and for a long moment, all I could hear were my own ragged breaths and the thundering of my heart in my ears.

And then, from the auditorium, Aunt May said, “Ooh, performance art!” and started to clap.