“I’m not into junk food,” I said as I slowly withdrew the blade and slashed it through the air, removing his head from his neck. The unattached member bounced and rolled away, his wide, gemlike eyes staring up at the ceiling, lost and unfocused. “Tell Nerian I said hi.”

Spinning around, I found my companions barely holding a mix of naturi and wolves at bay at the opposite end of the hall. Inside the salon that held Sadira and the others, I could still hear the constant crash of furniture and gunfire. Sadira’s thoughts were muffled but her fear was still riding high. However, that was matched by anger, which was encouraging. Sometimes the only thing that kept you moving was raw anger and hatred.

Gritting my teeth, I lifted my left arm. A low groan broke from my throat as the pain threatened to overcome my fragmented thoughts. I ignored it as best as I could and focused on a collection of creatures drawing closer to Michael and Danaus. It took only a couple of seconds for each one to explode in a glorious ball of fire. Only when they thumped lifelessly to the floor did I finally extinguish the flames. I’d taken an ugly risk using my powers. If I used them too often, it would leave me exhausted and vulnerable. Not a good combination when battling the naturi, particularly since I wasn’t at full strength before this battle even started.

My left arm dropped back down to my side and I swayed on my feet. I opened my mouth to ask for a naturi count from Danaus when Michael rushed toward me. Stunned, I didn’t think to move when he turned his shoulder into my chest and sent me back toward the open entryway. I stumbled over the body of the naturi I’d killed moments ago and landed hard on my butt. My left hand fell in a cool, wet spot on the Oriental rug. Glancing down, I discovered I was sitting in a spreading pool of blood that was leaking from the dead naturi. I frantically wiped it on my shirt and pants, desperate to be clean of the stuff. I imagine there is truly no stranger sight than a vampire wiping blood off like it carried the plague.

With fangs bared, I tore my gaze from the blood back to Michael, a vicious curse on the tip of my tongue, when I instantly stilled. He stood over me, his face slack. His blue eyes were staring blindly at some distant point I could not see. Something cold slipped down into my bones and knotted in my throat. A small, damp spot in the middle of his chest was growing by the second across his shirt while his skin paled to a gut-wrenching gray.

Behind him I heard the soft, liquid squish and suck of a blade being pulled from muscle and flesh. I noticed then that the door to the first room off the hall was open, when all the doors had been closed moments before.

I lurched forward on my knees, catching Michael’s limp form as he fell forward. Lowering him to the ground, my eyes never wavered from my angel’s pale face. Beside me, I felt more than saw Danaus attack the one that had stabbed my guardian. With a trembling hand, I smoothed his golden locks from his forehead, inadvertently smearing some of the naturi’s blood across his perfect skin.

Michael’s eyes drooped closed and his full lips briefly formed my name.

“Sleep, my angel,” I whispered, my voice as rough as concrete. I bent down and pressed my parted lips to his. “You’ve done well.”

The tension and lines slowly disappeared from his handsome face, as if time was kindly erasing some of the wear and tear he had suffered through his long years. He was moving away from the pain and the fear. Peace was settling inside him.

Something inside of me screamed in pain. I should have sent him home. I should have never included him in my life. Michael was a breath of fresh air. He had glowed with light and vitality, and I’d seen to its destruction.

Holding him, I could feel the life draining from his body, his heart slowing to a thick, torpid beat. His soul was pulling loose of its bonds, struggling to be free. I couldn’t heal him. With all my power and abilities, I couldn’t heal the human body beyond the closing of puncture wounds from my fangs. The best I could do was try to turn him into a nightwalker, but I wouldn’t. His soul wanted to be free like a kite on a string. I knew I had to let him go no matter how badly I needed him to stay.

The pain in my left arm was gone. I stood without actually using my muscles. I just pushed out with my powers until I was lifted to my feet. Around me the sounds of battle dimmed and the world faded. Time ground to a crawl, edging along the floorboards like a multilegged insect. I paused long enough to grab both of Michael’s guns and my sword. Tucking one gun in my pants at the hollow of my back, I kept the other in my left hand while the sword remained tightly clutched in my right hand.

To say that I was angry would have been an understatement. I wanted to send a wall of fire through the entire building, cleansing it of every moving creature, breathing or not. Michael was gone and I wanted a gallon of naturi blood for every drop spilled of his. I wanted them dead.

Striding into the front parlor, I paused long enough to assess the scene. Furniture had been overturned and the lighting was dim as one small lamp in the far corner fought back the darkness. Danaus battled two naturi at once, a scimitar in one hand and a short sword in the other. A flicker of light danced across the steel that had yet to be smeared with blood. Three more naturi stood near the window where they had come in, watching the show. I would have normally let Danaus have his fun, but I just wanted them dead. One of them had killed Michael.

Stepping forward, I lifted the gun toward Danaus’s assailants. Without hesitation, I squeezed off several rounds, putting one into the forehead of each naturi before they could turn on me. The recoil sent a shock wave up my arm and I hissed in pain, but it didn’t slow me as I swung around and fired the last three rounds at the remaining naturi. Only one found its mark, briefly pinning the brown-haired creature to the blood-splattered wall before he slid to the floor.

Out of bullets, I pitched the gun at the closest naturi, shattering his nose and left cheekbone. He screamed and stumbled backward, holding his face. I closed the distance, rage bubbling in my veins. His companion stepped forward to protect him, and I left his head rocking on the floor seconds later.

The wounded elflike creature lashed out, swinging his sword wildly, half blinded by the pain. In a flash of movement I was standing behind the creature. I grabbed a fistful of brown hair and jerked his head back before running my blade across his throat. I was careful to slice the main arteries and open his windpipe. It’s a subtle art; something learned through years of torture and death. If I had left him like that, he might have drowned in his own blood. Unfortunately, I wasn’t sure how quickly he would heal so I lopped off both his hands. I didn’t want him coming back to stab me later. This way he would at least bleed to death. He would suffer awhile longer than if I’d just decapitated him like his companion. I wanted his death to be a slow one.

Danaus grabbed my right arm as I started to leave the room, halting my progress. “He’s not dead,” the hunter growled. His hand bit into my flesh while his powers beat angrily against me.

“He will be.” Danaus didn’t release me, his gaze burning into my cold eyes. I knew what he wanted. He didn’t believe in torture. “Remember, they did far worse to me. At least he knows he’s going to die. I had no such guarantee.” I wrenched my arm free of his grasp and continued to the hall.

I was relieved to see he followed directly behind me instead of ending the naturi’s suffering. Maybe he knew this wasn’t the best time to cross me. I paused in the hall, careful not to look down at Michael’s cold body. Instead I gazed up the hall to find three more naturi heading toward the room holding Jabari and the others, looking to attack the small group from behind. I pulled the second and last gun from my pants and plowed through the three that were now coming after me.