After that, there was nothing to do but wait. Our Strigoi usually struck in a specific time frame, and we’d come in advance of it. I hoped that meant he hung out in his lair for a while and hadn’t already been on the scene while we set up. I also hoped he’d actually come out tonight, or we’d have wasted a trip.

When it happened, it was so fast I thought I’d imagined it. The Strigoi leapt off the building opposite the one Eddie and I were in, landing effortlessly on the ground and knocking Neil down in one fluid motion. I stifled a gasp. If the Strigoi had looked around a little, our window hideout would’ve been spotted. He must have been too worked up over finding a lone dhampir.

Neil was completely pinned down, no chance of getting his stake. As the Strigoi leaned in, Neil did have a chance to gasp out, “Wait–turn me–make me one of you–awaken me–”

The Strigoi paused and then laughed. “Awaken you? Do you know how long it’s been since I had a dhampir? I’m not wasting my own blood on you. I’m going to savor this.”

“I can help you. I can serve you.” I didn’t doubt the terror in Neil’s voice was real, and yet here he was, offering himself up for the greater good. I wanted to cry but had to stay strong and wait for my part. “I can help you find other dhampirs . . . and Moroi . . .”

As the Strigoi laughed again, Eddie leaned over to whisper in my ear, so close his lips nearly touched me. Strigoi had excellent hearing. “He’s a strong one,” Eddie breathed. “And old. Very old. We were wrong.”

Neil screamed as the Strigoi bit into his neck. Eddie tensed, and I grabbed his arm. “Wait. We have to know.”

I knew what agony Eddie had to be in because I shared it. We both wanted to help Neil. Doing nothing, even for a handful of seconds, went against every part of our beings. Neil’s cries faded to moans, and as the Strigoi continued drinking, I knew the awful truth. The tattoo was a failure, and we–

The Strigoi suddenly jerked back. “What’s wrong with you?” he snarled. “You taste . . . wrong!”

That was all Eddie needed to hear. In a flash, he was out the window, landing nearly–though not quite–as gracefully as the Strigoi. Eddie’s silver stake was already in motion as his feet hit, but the Strigoi, incredibly, anticipated it. Eddie had been right. Old and powerful. Maybe too old and powerful for us.

Eddie and the Strigoi engaged in a deadly dance, and I looked for an opportunity. It had been obvious to us that if we were fighting in cramped quarters, a fireball could incinerate all of us. My instructions had been blunt and simple. Use the fire only if the Strigoi killed or turned my friends. I was supposed to be the last resort, yet I hoped there was a way I could help Eddie before then because it was clear he had his work cut out for him. Neil, though alive, was down for the count.

For his part, Eddie was magnificent. It had been a while since I’d seen him fight, and I’d nearly forgotten that the adopted brother I joked and ate lunch with was a lethal warrior. He made the Strigoi work for his kill, slipping only once when a glancing blow knocked Eddie into the brick wall. He recovered instantly, but I could see the inevitable. A series of small hits, small injuries . . . they’d take their toll. Combined with the Strigoi’s superior strength and stamina, it would be only a matter of time.

I had to act. I couldn’t just stand by and let Eddie be annihilated, not if there was anything I could do. Maybe sending a fireball down was out of the question, but I was pretty sure I could provide a good distraction. I jumped down from the window to the dumpster, using it to get down to the ground. I was a disgrace after Eddie’s amazing exit earlier. My foot landed wrong, and I stumbled. I didn’t even need to create a magical distraction, because the Strigoi noticed me right away. He shoved Eddie back and shot toward me.

Fear filled every part of me as that deathly white face leered down. Somehow, in spite of the overwhelming urge to just scream and scream, I held up my hand and summoned a small ball of fire. My hope was that it might startle him back enough for Eddie to get in for the kill. To my astonishment, the fire didn’t scare the Strigoi. In fact, he grabbed my wrist and slammed me into the brick wall. The flame disappeared, and I let out a small scream.

“Don’t try that game with me, witch,” he growled. “I know your kind. I know your tricks. Maybe your blood is off‑limits, but your neck snaps the same as anyone else’s.”

I could see my death in his eyes, and it wasn’t terror I felt so much as sorrow–a great and overwhelming sorrow for all the things I would never do. I would never see Adrian again, never create a life with him, never have those perfect children he’d joked about. Even small things took on a terrible sense of loss. I’d never have lunch with my friends again, never hear Angeline make one of her ludicrous comments. I’d never patch things up with Zoe.

It was amazing how so many things flew through my mind in a millisecond. And it was amazing how the smallest things in life became monumental when you were about to lose them.

Suddenly, the Strigoi spun around, anticipating an advance from Eddie. I was momentarily forgotten as the two engaged in battle again, and I wasted no time scurrying toward Neil’s fallen form. I was trying to drag him away when two dark figures came tearing down the alley. At first, I thought partyers had stumbled on us. Then, I recognized them.

Angeline and Trey.

“No way,” I said.

She was unarmed, but Trey carried a sword, the favorite weapon of the Warriors of Light. Their presence momentarily startled the Strigoi, enough for Eddie to slam into him and finally land a solid offensive blow. Trey approached from the other side, swinging the sword remarkably close to the Strigoi’s neck. Angeline helped me pull Neil out of danger and then knelt beside him. His eyelids fluttered, and his hand moved toward his pocket, where I could see a gleam of silver. Angeline took the stake from him, gripping it in her hands and watching the combat unfold before us.

The Strigoi was trapped between Eddie and Trey but seemed undaunted. He sized them both up, and I could guess his deliberation. Even armed and trained, a human like Trey was the easier target. Was it better to take him out immediately or deal with the bigger threat? The Strigoi opted for the former, lunging for Trey and simultaneously dodging an attack from Eddie. The impact knocked Trey to the ground, but it took enough of the Strigoi’s attention that he left an opening for Eddie, who scored a swipe with his stake.

The Strigoi hissed in pain but didn’t slow down. He managed both offense and defense with seemingly no effort. No one gained any ground, and my frustration grew. I felt helpless and began racking my brain for other spells I might use. I had a vast repertoire at my fingertips, but with the erratic way everyone was moving, I couldn’t be sure I wouldn’t hurt one of my friends.

Eddie made a desperate attack and actually knocked the Strigoi to the ground. Needing no communication, Trey advanced with the sword, going in for decapitation. But the Strigoi continued to thwart us. He sprang up, doing a spinning kick that knocked both guys away. Apparently deciding to change tactics, he went after Eddie this time, who even I could tell was getting up just a little too slowly.

That’s when the unthinkable happened. A thick white mist suddenly appeared and rose from the puddle‑covered ground, momentarily enveloping and blinding the Strigoi. That’s when Angeline acted. Everyone had forgotten about her. Even I had. She leapt up from beside me, charging forward unhesitatingly as she plunged the silver stake into the Strigoi’s back. He screamed. It wasn’t enough to kill him, but it was enough for Eddie to recover and send his own stake through the creature’s chest and into the heart. The Strigoi flailed a little, one last attempt to save himself, and then he collapsed and went still. Silence fell as we all held a collective breath.