“Not far from here. They could be anywhere.” At an imploring look from me, Max nodded, his face grim. “I’ll check it out.”

“Be careful,” Bella called after him as he jogged down the street. She approached us as though Cyrus were a wild animal I’d tamed, and she didn’t want him to run away.

“He needs medical attention. Can you get him to the hospital? I’d take him, but there aren’t many more hours until sunup and I don’t want to get trapped in the ER.” Or spotted by anyone I knew. It would make an awkward reunion with my former coworkers if I shambled in with a confused, bleeding man.

“Can you not care for him?” Bella wasn’t challenging me, but I could tell she didn’t want to be left alone with Cyrus. After what I’d seen in the circle, I wouldn’t have wanted to, either.

“I can’t take him back to the apartment. Nathan.” I shrugged helplessly. Cyrus had been through enough tonight, and he wasn’t likely to live through much more.

Neither could I. The entire business of the ritual and its aftermath had been too confusing. I needed time to myself, to think. Another cruel irony, as days ago I’d been going mad from the isolation of living on the road.

Max reappeared, brushing dried leaves from his hair. He’d apparently jumped—or tumbled through—a few hedges.

“Did you find them?” I called, jogging toward him.

“The vampires? Gone. I saw a couple combing a park over that way, but I don’t think they saw me. So I went back to the house, tripped the burglar alarm. The cops will be here soon, and that’ll hopefully set them running.”

As if on cue, the distant, tinny sound of approaching sirens wafted to us on the breeze. I sighed heavily. “Damn.”

“Let’s go,” Max urged. We ran back to the car, where, with Bella’s help, I coaxed Cyrus into the backseat. We all piled in and Max drove the few short blocks to the nearest emergency room. He stopped to let Bella and Cyrus out at the ambulance bay, and I gave her strict instructions not to let them admit him to the psychiatric ward.

I didn’t know if Bella would bring him back to the apartment, or if he’d just wander off on his own. My throat stuck shut at the thought of Cyrus, homeless and with no money, trying to survive in the mortal world.

Or worse, going back to Dahlia.

Still, he wasn’t coherent enough for a tender goodbye and there wasn’t time for Max and I to waste. The sun would rise soon and we had to get back.