Horror was so much more fun on a movie set, where all the wounds were special effects applied by makeup artists, and there was a concession table with tasty snacks, and trailers with working plumbing, and weekend parties, and somebody else available to do her stunts whenever she didn’t feel like doing them.

In real life… there weren’t enough words to describe how much this sucked.

Also, the Vampyres were feral — that didn’t necessarily make them stupid. It hadn’t taken them long to learn to jerk back when she lunged for one of them.

Yet they wanted her… they really wanted her, so they stayed close, in case they might be able to grab her whenever she danced near. There were so many Vampyres, they crowded the ones at the front against the bars and hampered their movements, which was why she had been able to make as many kills as she had.

So far, she’d managed to stake five. Four of them had crumbled to dust, while the fifth one had gotten extra snarly and violent, and there were still so many left.

Then a high-pitched whistle sounded.

As she paused and tried to figure out what this new information meant, the ferals turned toward the sound and raced down the tunnel. A few lingered, including the one she had stabbed, but not for long. After a few moments they, too, raced out of sight.

At first she had been relieved but puzzled. What had made them run?

Moments later, she had heard Justine’s and Vampyre Guy’s voices coming down the tunnel. That was when realization had struck.

They had conditioned the ferals to respond to a whistle.

Leaping into action, she had scrambled to get her nest arranged so she could hide her stake. She kept the cot propped on its side, the ends touching the walls in the corner, with the blanket and her food and water stacked inside the triangle.

The whole illusion was as risky as a house of cards. One good puff of wind and it would all fall down.

For example, if anybody chose to right the three-legged cot and sit on it, it would collapse under their weight, but she had bet that nobody would want to settle in for a relaxed visit.

So far she had been right.

“Relaxed” was definitely not what this visit was. Homicidal and psychopathic, but not relaxed.

She had watched them set up their technical operation, complete with camping lantern, a Wi-Fi router and a laptop. None of it had surprised her, except for the arrival of a Djinn named Malphas.

When Justine had stepped into the cell to take hold of her in a firm grip and turn to face the laptop, Melly had been braced to see her mom on the screen, or maybe Bailey, or even both of them together.

Not Julian.

Never in a million years would she have expected Julian.

He was such a bastard. He was two thousand years of mean streets rolled into a rough, foul-mouthed package. His best talents were making war, smoking cigars and wearing those god-awful, worn cowboy boots of his. Those were some of the things that had first attracted her to him, and they were what hurt so much now that she and Julian were estranged, because he knew all too well how to use words as a weapon.

But that look in his eyes when he had told her she would be okay…

The words he had roared echoed in her mind. TELL ME WHAT THE FUCK YOU WANT ME TO DO, AND I’LL DO IT!

In a daze, she thought, some part of him still cares for me. Maybe it isn’t the most important part. It certainly hasn’t been enough for us to overcome all the damage, distrust and hurt that has built up between us over the years.

But it might be just enough to get him killed.

She wanted to scream at him, but Justine’s hard hand clamped over her mouth and kept her from speaking. Even though he was too far away for her to connect to him telepathically, she still tried. Justine isn’t going to let me go! Don’t throw your life away!

He didn’t show any evidence that he heard her, of course.

Then Malphas disappeared and Julian snapped his laptop shut, cutting off the Skype session. After a few moments, the maelstrom of Power that heralded a Djinn’s impending arrival filled the area again.

Justine hugged her tight with every bit as much delighted affection as a child with a new pet. The Vampyre whispered in her ear, “Here we go, kitten. I wonder if this is how Christmas feels. Because of some blasted bargain, Malphas can’t and won’t take Julian against his will, so… did he agree to come, or didn’t he?”

As the Djinn’s Power coalesced, two male forms appeared in the cell across from Melly’s. One of them was Malphas.

The other was the figure of a strong, powerful man wearing jeans, a plain gray T-shirt and scuffed cowboy boots. The man had hard, rough features, wolflike eyes and salt-and-pepper hair.

Julian was such an intense male presence, she couldn’t fail to mistake him — she knew it was him before his body had fully formed.

He had come. He really had come for her.

Tears filled her eyes.

Telepathically, she said to him, You idiot.

His angry, red gaze met hers briefly. Shut up.

Malphas said in a cheerful voice, “Well, Julian, now that I’ve done you this favor, I believe it’s time for me to leave.” His diamond eyes seemed to sparkle. “Have a nice day.”

The Djinn vanished, while Julian took in the scene with a single glance. His gaze focused on Justine, and despite all evidence of everything stacked up against him — the locked, secure cell where Justine held Melly, and the knife she held to Melly’s throat — Melly had to swallow hard and shiver at his icy, deadly expression.

Trapped as he was, he was still one of the most dangerous men she had ever met. If she had been Justine and the true recipient of that look, she wouldn’t stop running until she found a place to hide where nobody knew her name, and even then she would spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder.

He said, “You said you’d let her go.”

“You’re not secured yet,” Justine told him. “There are chains right behind you. Lock yourself in. Fix the manacles on your ankles first, because you’re going to have to stretch up to get your wrists locked in.”

Don’t do it, Melly told him. You know she’s not going to honor any bargain she strikes with you. She’s not going to let me go.

I said shut up. Calmly, he stepped into position.

Since when do I listen to anything you say? she retorted, then desperately, Julian, stop!

Ignoring her, he snapped the manacles around his ankles and raised his arms to lock his wrists in the chains that dangled overhead.

Justine whispered, “That’s the most damn perfect thing I’ve seen in decades. Maybe centuries.”

Her punishingly tight hold on Melly loosened. Freeing herself with a jerk, Melly sprang several feet away and yanked the hem of her top into place angrily.

Neither Justine nor Julian paid any attention to her. They were wholly focused on each other as Justine strolled toward the bars of the cell.

Justine’s lack of concern over letting her loose couldn’t have been more insulting, but Melly was okay with that, since it meant the Vampyre wasn’t paying any attention to her. Briefly tempted to slip over to her nest to retrieve her stake, she glanced at the corner, but as appealing as it was to make a try for staking Justine, the risk of getting caught was too great.

Now that Justine had Julian in chains, she had no reason to keep Melly alive any longer. If Melly attacked her and failed, even if Justine chose not to kill her, she would take everything out of Melly’s cell, and they — yes, it was now time to say “they” — would need all the help they could get if they were going to escape from this alive.

Taking the key out of her pocket, Justine let herself out of the cell and locked Melly inside. Then the Vampyre strolled into Julian’s cell while twirling her knife in between long, pale fingers.