Julian's chest was bleeding from two gaping holes as he stumbled backward. Wade was holding his Beretta out in both hands, beads of sweat trickling down his narrow face.

He fired again, catching Julian in the shoulder.

I'd forgotten about the Beretta.

"His throat!" Philip yelled. "Aim for his throat!"

I twisted over to sit in a crouch, uncertain what to do. Wade fired again, but Julian dropped low, and the bullet missed him completely.

But his pale face was so shocked I wondered how he had the presence of mind to even act.

Philip bolted across the room, his loose flannel shirt billowing behind him. He grabbed Julian by the shoulder and leg, lifting him into the air and throwing him at the window. Julian's body crashed against the drapes.

Glass snapped and crackled.

Let him fall through. Please, let him fall through.

Dropping twelve floors to the pavement might not destroy his body, but he'd be out of working order for a while.

But in despair, I saw his hand catch the drape. He managed to steady himself, pain and confusion twisting his features as he stared back in shock-as if unable to believe Philip would attack him to defend me.

Philip actually snarled at him.

I realized this was a new situation for Julian. Fearing a psychic combat he could not win, he'd always hidden himself away, striking only unaware victims. Physical battles with an equal were almost unknown… and he was wounded, bleeding.

But Philip was strong. He charged forward again and swung hard with his right fist, catching Julian across the jaw. The crack echoed as Julian's head snapped back.

Wade moved past me, looking for a clear shot.

"Don't!" I called. "You might hit Philip."

We needed Philip whole.

"Stay behind me," Wade spat back, still holding the gun with both hands.

Philip reached down to try and get another grip, but this time, Julian swept out with his leg, knocking Philip off his feet. Julian lunged up to stand behind the couch, his face a mask of hatred, and then his eyes grew more focused, emanating his gift.

The fear hit me like a wall.

I started gagging.

Wade didn't even get off one shot. He fell to his knees, dropping the gun. His mouth was open in terror but no sounds came.

Philip cried out from fear, and he tried struggling up to crawl. Julian kicked him in the chest so hard his body flew against a wooden chair, smashing it to pieces. When he hit the floor, his shoulder popped out of its socket and his arm lay at an odd angle.

Julian ignored him and strode directly to Wade. The waves of fear washed over and over me, but despair flooded in as well when Julian grabbed Wade's hair with one hand and the Beretta with the other. He smashed the butt of the gun against Wade's cheekbone.

"You like this gun?" Julian asked. His chest and shoulder were still bleeding, soaking his black shirt. He pressed the barrel to Wade's temple. "Do you like it now?"

He wasn't even going to feed. He was just going to shoot Wade in the head.

And Philip was down, his body broken, his mind lost in fear.

"Master, no," I started begging. I hated begging.

I had to do something.

In desperation, more from instinct than intent, I pushed my own thoughts into his mind with all the force I had once used on Dominick. Only this time, I didn't fire ugly images.

Stop!

He froze, his dark eyes wild.

Let go of him!

He dropped Wade first, then the gun, and his mouth formed a horrified O shape. He half turned and staggered toward me. I felt him trying to force me out of his mind. He focused his gift on me at the same time, trying to bury me in terror.

I gasped aloud, fighting for my hold, feeling him push me out, knowing if he did, we were all dead.

I closed my eyes, blocking out the sight of him, but this time, I sent images… memories I'd seen inside of Philip.

Angelo's face. His smile. The sword arcing, slicing off his head.

All Julian's resistance failed as he cried out. I could feel what he felt in this moment, and he had never felt anything like it. I kept my eyes closed and pushed harder inside of his mind.

Show me.

I was inside his memories, inside his existence, and he could not keep me out, nor could he stop the flow I had started by forcing him to see Angelo. He began to remember it all. I saw so many faces, so many of my kind as Julian butchered them… a red-haired vampire turning in surprise as the blade swept in… a dark-skinned girl, little more than a child. I wanted to weep, but could not.

Instead, I gripped his thoughts more tightly with my own. I altered them, warped them, creating images of the ghosts of his victims. I built a nightmare in his mind as they crept toward him with bloody lines across their throats. He could not escape as they clutched at him… grabbing him, nailing him to a cross, and raising it.

Angelo picked up a torch and set the cross on fire.

Julian screamed and fell to the carpet.

I crawled over to him, with my mouth to his ear.

"Is this what you fear, Master? One of us taking over your thoughts, your body?" I pressed my mouth closer, tasting the stale flesh of his temple. "Then fear me. I could make this much worse, and I could make you relive it over and over again." I paused, watching his face twitch in horror, ashamed how much I enjoyed the sight.

"We want to be left alone," I whispered. "That's all. But if you ever come near me or Philip or Wade again, I will trap you in your own hell. Do you understand?"

I released some of my control, letting him have partial function of his body again. He did not respond, but turned his head to stare at me. I was a stranger to him-as if he could not believe his little servant girl could conjure images ugly enough to make him writhe and force them into his brain. He didn't know me. His mouth was still locked in the O shape.

"I will let you up if you swear to leave, if you swear to never come near us again," I said.

The fear and disbelief in his eyes grew.

"Do you swear?" I demanded.

"Yes," he finally hissed, finding his voice.

"Remember what I can do!"

But then the sound of crashing glass broke the last of my connection, my hold on him. Wind swept through the room, and I looked up to see Philip standing over us with a chair leg in his right hand. His left shoulder was still dislocated. The hotel window behind him had been smashed.

He'd broken the window?

He dropped the chair leg. Then he grabbed Julian, pulled him up and threw him backward. Julian was still dazed from the horror show I had sent into his head and from the shock of having lost control of himself. He nearly fell through the broken window, but managed to grab one side, cutting his hand, as he fought wildly to pull himself back inside. Philip strode toward him with a savage expression I never wanted to see again.

"Philip, no!" I called. "You don't need to-"

But Philip didn't even hear me. He kicked Julian square in the chest, and I watched as my maker's arms flailed and his eyes widened in his pale face before he fell from view… twelve stories down toward the pavement.

Then he was gone.

"Why did you do that?" I shouted at Philip. "I had him! You didn't need to…" I trailed off as Philip turned, anger draining from his face.

He came back quickly and dropped to his knees, grabbing my hands, examining my fingers and arms. "Did he hurt you?"

I didn't know how to answer.

Wade moaned and sirens blared outside. It had only been moments since the first shots exploded in the room, but hotel security must be on its way up-and someone had called the police.

"We have to go now," Philip said, walking to Wade and leaning over to pick him up.

"I can walk," Wade mumbled. His cheek was cut and turning purple.