As quickly as it had come, his anger subsided. In the defeated tone of a tired child, he spoke again. “He is a killer, and you left me to be with him.”

“I didn’t.” I turned and looked him in the eyes, and the sorrow there stole my breath. “When you took my heart in that alley, you let me die. Nathan saved my life. It wasn’t my choice.”

“It doesn’t matter. What’s done is done. When he is dead, things can go back to the way they were.” Cyrus snapped his fingers to the guards. “Kill him.”

Nathan roared and rushed past the guards. With his hands bound, he could do little more than charge headfirst at Cyrus and knock him into the wall beside the fireplace. And that’s what he did. The collision was loud, and it dented the dark wood paneling, but Cyrus recovered quickly, kicking Nathan to the floor. Laughing, Cyrus grabbed the fireplace poker from the rack on the hearth and raised it over Nathan’s back.

Even if I warned him, he wouldn’t be able to get out of the way in time. With a scream of rage, I yanked my hands apart. The plastic tie cut into my skin, but it broke. I was free.

Before the guards could react, I ran toward Cyrus, barreling shoulder first into him. We toppled onto the Persian rug, knocking over two chairs as we fell.

I grabbed a handful of his hair and tugged, forcing him to face me. “If you’re going to kill me, just do it and leave him alone!”

He yanked free, leaving a white-blond lock twined in my fist. He brushed himself off and stood. “I don’t want to kill you, Carrie. But it’s out of my hands now.”

Guards lifted Nathan from the hearth and threw him into a chair. He breathed hard. The jagged wound where Cyrus had stabbed him seeped fresh blood.

“What do you mean, it’s out of your hands?” I asked. Another guard stepped forward to grab me, and I growled at him.

“Leave her,” Cyrus commanded with a smirk. “I have a proposition for her.”

I grabbed the guard and twisted his head to the side, exposing the pulsing artery in his neck. “You better start explaining or so help me God, I’ll kill him right here.”

Cyrus laughed. “What do I care? I have dozens more just like him.”

Touché.

Out of frustration, I wrung the guard’s arm until it snapped.

He sagged to the ground, howling in agony, and I kicked him forward, pinning his head to the floor with the heel of my shoe. “Talk, or you’ll be cleaning brains out of this fancy-ass rug!”

“Very good. It’s amazing you’ve come this far, with only him to learn from. The power in you…it’s intoxicating.” Cyrus moved toward me slowly. I took a step back, and the sentry crawled away, cradling his ruined arm to his chest. I backed into the marble-topped table. Cyrus kept advancing. “Think of what you could become, if only you’d come back to me. I could make you mine again. Drain your blood, bring you to the point of death and then fill you up again.”