Byron! Had the little rat sold me out? I should have known not to reveal my intentions for the trip. I should have known not to trust him. How often had men with trendy haircuts and an affinity for overwrought poetry screwed me over?

I bent and scooped up my bag. It was lighter than I remembered it. I didn’t even have to look to realize my stakes were gone. I tried to dodge her next lunge, and ended up flat on my back, my head colliding with the floor in a way that made me appreciate the phrase “seeing stars.” When my vision cleared, March leaned over me, the stake still in her hand. She took a long drag off the cigarette between her fingers and cracked a sarcastic smile. “From what I understand, we have a connection. At least, your sire and my sire do.”

My head was still muzzy. “What?”

She flicked ashes directly onto the floor. A few stinging embers touched my face. “Jacob Seymour. The Soul Eater?”

Chapter 13
Surrender

They came down the stairs at sunset.

Cyrus’s first thought was that he should have locked the door. Then he remembered he had locked the door. Then the door, some of the molding still attached to its hinges, flew down the stairway. It landed on the cheap dinette table, which overturned with a crash.

Mouse screamed and sat up beside him, scrambling backward and clutching the sheets to her chest.

There were only three of them, but Cyrus was human. Weak and human. When one grabbed him, he couldn’t break free. He could do no more than watch as the other two pinned Mouse to the bed. She screamed his name, begged him to help.

He thought of the reason she hadn’t resisted when the nun had been killed, why she hadn’t prayed or pleaded with God for help. Because no one was listening.

She hadn’t made it fun for them. Cyrus knew firsthand the joy of the kill came from breaking the victim. Now, because she had hope, she would be a sweeter plum.

You have to treat her callously. Pretend she is nothing to you, and she will stop struggling. But he couldn’t. His arsenal of cruel words, always at the ready, vanished. If they hadn’t, he wasn’t sure he could have used them, anyway.

He’d promised her safety. He’d lied. He was nothing but an ineffectual boy, playing hero. He could not save this damsel.

The beast on top of her wrenched her head back, baring her throat. At the sight of the healing teeth marks there, the vampire laughed. For a perverse second, Cyrus was relieved her blood was the only prize the monster was after. Then he admonished himself for valuing her chastity above her life. You are truly your father’s son.