“Nolen?” Marianne whispered, her already pale face white with terror.

I fled his mind as the monsters closed in on him. If I’d had eyes to close, I would have, but there was no way to avoid the sight. Nathan tried to shield Marianne from fangs and claws, but gnarled hands dragged him from the pack.

“This one is for me!” the Soul Eater roared. Then, propelling Nathan toward Cyrus, he said, “Simon, make your father proud.”

Nathan struggled as Cyrus pulled him into his arms. He reached for Marianne, but the distance was impossible, and too many vampires blocked the way.

This is hell. I am damned.

I tried to block his panicked thoughts, but they were too strong. Cyrus slashed the buttons from the front of Nathan’s shirt in one smooth motion. He splayed his clawed hand across the tanned skin that was revealed, stroking down, over Nathan’s tightly muscled abdomen.

Marianne’s screams were weak and growing fainter by the moment.

“Let her live!” Nathan begged. “Please, let her live!”

The Soul Eater considered a moment, then clapped his hands, a gesture I’d seen Cyrus mimic many times. The vampires who’d fallen on Marianne looked up, confusion showing as best as it could on their demonic faces.

“A change of plans,” the Soul Eater snarled. “Out, all of you.”

They cleared, grumbling their displeasure. Some hissed as they slid past their master. On the floor, Marianne moaned, her fang-marked limbs deathly still. Her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths.

Elsbeth scowled at her father-in-law. “You’re always doing this, Jacob. You change your plans without consulting any of us. It’s not fair. I haven’t fed in days!”

The Soul Eater grabbed her. “You’ll find it much more difficult to feed when I snap your pretty head off your neck. Now get out.”

“Father?” Cyrus still held his prize, but his attention was focused on Elsbeth.

“We’ll let the sick one die on her own. With any luck, she’ll live to see him killed.” With a final nod to Nathan, the Soul Eater stepped out the door. “It’s been lovely meeting you, Mrs. Galbraith.”

Without willing it, I was once again in Nathan’s mind. Marianne lifted a limp hand toward him, her eyes imploring him to help her. But he couldn’t.

He was tired. Tired of chasing a cure from continent to continent, only to see one hope die after another. Tired of dreading her death, tired of the guilt he felt when he wished it would just be over. Perhaps this was his punishment. He turned his head away.

“It appears that it’s just the three of us,” Cyrus rasped against Nathan’s ear. The feeling of another man’s hands on him made the bile rise in Nathan’s throat. He squeezed his eyes shut tight as those hands moved lower, releasing the button of his trousers. The cold fingers closed over him, stroking him to arousal against his will.

He sobbed a Hail Mary as Cyrus’s fangs sunk into his neck.