“I do wish you’d scream, Carrie. You have such a beautiful scream.” He sighed and tipped the bottle again. “Ah, well, just one of the things I’ll miss about you.”

The vial flew from his hand before he could spill the rest on me, and his grip released. I fell to the floor. I couldn’t move my arm, and it felt as if it had been severed from my body while it hung lame at my side.

Nathan pinned Cyrus to the wall, his face changing as he flashed his fangs. The holy water splashed their legs, and smoke rose from the floor where it burned their feet.

Cyrus brought his knee up and kicked Nathan away. He hit the floor and rolled out of reach. I saw Cyrus withdraw a stake from his sleeve. I shouldn’t have been surprised that he’d lied about being unarmed.

I jumped on him, sinking my fingernails into his face. One finger slipped into his empty eye socket, and it was all I could do to keep from yanking my hand away in disgust. He twisted violently, dislodging me, but I landed on my feet. When he stopped to wipe the blood from his eyes I was on him again, locking my legs around his waist and pummeling him from behind. He threw himself backward, crushing me between his body and the wall. The breath rushed from my lungs in a great whoosh and I slid to the floor, clutching my chest. He stood over me, ready to strike.

Nathan got to his feet and slammed his elbow into the back of Cyrus’s head, bringing him to the ground. Once he was down, Nathan delivered vicious kicks to the back of his head until he stopped struggling.

“Is he dead?” I gasped, using Nathan’s proffered arm to climb to my feet.

He didn’t look at me. His gaze was locked on Ziggy’s motionless body. “No. And he won’t be out for long. Let me get Ziggy and we’ll go.”

As soon as he uttered those words, the doors to the foyer blew off their hinges.

A forceful and foul-smelling wind blew us both against the wall in a shower of wood splinters. Ashes exploded from the cold fireplace as flames leapt up seemingly from nowhere, and the remaining furniture turned over from the magnitude of the blast.

A tall, sickly vampire slid into the room. His eyes burned red, and his long white hair trailed behind him as he floated effortlessly above the ground. Although he looked much older, and though I was nearly overcome by the stench of decay, I recognized him.

It was Cyrus’s father.

The Soul Eater.

“Carrie, run!” Nathan shouted. He sprang toward Ziggy’s body.

I grabbed him by the arm. “No, Nathan, there’s nothing you can do for him!”

The ancient vampire slowly came closer, his bloody, dripping claws outstretched.

“Don’t go. I’m so hungry,” he said, the sound of many voices speaking all at once.

“Fuck you!” Nathan screamed, and for a moment I thought he’d charge him without a weapon. “You took everything from me!” He’d totally lost it. I’d never seen anyone so angry. All the resentment and rage that Nathan had been holding back from the world finally surfaced as he howled at the Soul Eater.