But he didn’t show any outward sign of my betrayal. “She told me everything. Sorry to disappoint you.”

“I really wish someone would have told me everything,” Max snarled. “I’m probably gonna get marked for death just for breathing the same air as all of you. I don’t know what’s going on here, but this is fucked up!”

A frown creased Cyrus’s brow. “Kill that one.”

“No!” Nathan and I shouted at the same time. I felt some of his rage toward me ebb, like a stone lifting off my chest.

“Oh, you’re going to bargain with me now? The two of you?” He laughed. “You should both know better.”

More guards rushed into the room. In groups of ten, one group for each of us, they bound our hands behind our backs.

“Take him to Dahlia’s room,” Cyrus said, gesturing to Max. “The other two can join me in the study.”

“We’ll reconvene after,” Nathan called to Max.

As if they were simply parting to spend their lunch hours in different restaurants, Max shouted back, “Sure thing. Get in a few good hits for me.” Then, to the guards I heard him ask, “So, this Dahlia, is she eighteen?”

Half the guards following us remained outside and flanked the door at Cyrus’s request. That still left us with ten on the inside, far too many for me, an inexperienced fighter, and Nathan, with his wounded shoulder, to take on alone.

“Afraid of me, Cyrus?” Nathan sniped as the doors closed behind us.

I eventually gave up trying to unbind my wrists. I could barely get the tags off a pair of new shoes. What were the chances I’d manage to Houdini my way out of a plastic zip tie?

The only light in the room came from the fireplace. I saw the elegant shape of Cyrus’s profile against the flames.

He didn’t look at us. “So it’s come to this. You’re here to take my life, when you’ve taken everything else from me.”

What was he talking about? “I haven’t taken anything from—”

“He’s talking to me,” Nathan said, his gaze fixed on Cyrus. “I’m not going to apologize for anything. You reap what you’ve sown.”

“What I’ve sown?” Cyrus whirled around, his ruthless eyes shining in the firelight. “I’ve only done what every fledgling is bound to do by the blood tie. I’ve been loyal to my sire!”

Nathan laughed bitterly. “Don’t use that tired excuse again! We have the same sire. I didn’t lose my free will when he poured his blood down my throat!”

“The very thing I’ve been trying to convince you of for years!” Cyrus shouted at him, then turned to me. “I hope you will keep that in mind, Carrie, when considering what happened to his wife.”

I glared at him but remained silent.

He circled us menacingly, like a shark in a feeding frenzy. “Did Nolen ever tell you what he did to his wife?”

“No.” I couldn’t look at Nathan. “But I know.”