And if I did survive the gauntlet of hardened assassins, there was still the problem of Cyrus. If they’d turned him into a vampire again, would he be restored to his old strength? He’d crush me. Or would he still be human? Would I have to fight my own urge for revenge?

The past two months hadn’t been sufficient to numb me to the memory of his cruelty. I’d felt more pity than rage for him at the end, but I was more human than most vampires would admit of themselves. After the pain of losing Nathan, the loneliness of the last weary days, would I snap and take out my aggression toward the Soul Eater on Cyrus?

Then, there was another, more terrifying possibility. When I’d been blood tied to Cyrus, I’d been drawn to him in a way I couldn’t explain. It hadn’t been love, but a sinister parody of it. I’d been completely enthralled. Now that our mental connection was regenerating in fits and bursts, would I fall prey to that dangerous attraction again?

No. I was a stronger person, having defeated him once. Still, the prospect of seeing him again didn’t inspire a lot of confidence.

First thing first, though. I had to get to him without running into the Fangs.

The charred remains of St. Anne’s Catholic Church lay like a giant, abandoned campfire in the sand. It had burned completely to the ground. How the Fangs had hidden anyone here, with no shelter from the elements, without burning up from the desert sun, was beyond me.

I drove past the ruins, aware someone might be watching, and looked for an inconspicuous place to stash the van. Unlike the Road Runner cartoons, there were no convenient outcroppings of rock for me to hide behind, Wyle E. Coyote style, while waiting to ambush, and the Fangs from town were still out there somewhere. I pulled to the side of the road and propped the hood open, praying the flashers wouldn’t wear down the battery. All the stealth and cunning in the world wouldn’t help me if I successfully abducted Cyrus, but had no transportation away from the scene of the crime.

I felt a little foolish as I looked over the supplies March had provided. I’d never chloroformed a person before. I’d never tied someone up—at least, not for the purpose of kidnapping. I felt like a beginner skier staring down the steep face of the advanced slope. More than anything, I wanted to go back to the bunny hill.

“Where is that damn spare?” I said a little too loudly, in case someone was around. I pulled the glowing marble thing Byron had given me from my pocket and rolled it in my palm.

Instantly, a flash of light like a heat wave shivered up from the ground. A millisecond later, the roar of an engine filled my ears.