"I'm not sure," Santos says. "But whatever it is, it's dead." He turns to Casey. "If it would make you happy, take my blunderbuss. Shoot it again." The Cuban cocks the newly loaded weapon, holds it out for her.

"I've never fired one of these," Casey says, and takes the rail gun, holds it with both hands by her waist.

Santos begins to pour powder into the wide barrel of yet another gun. "Just point it and pull the trigger," he says. "Worst thing happens, you'll miss, and since it's dead already anyway-who cares?"

The blonde scowls at him. "Sometimes you're such an asshole! What if it's alive?"

She pokes the barrel of her gun into Elizabeth's left haunch. To my relief, my bride stays still.

Tindall and the Chinese step closer. The two assistants hold their AK-47s at rest. "I'd be careful if I were you," Chen says, and points his pistol in Elizabeth's direction.

"Looks dead to me," Santos says, dropping a golfball-size lead ball into the barrel of the blunderbuss, ramming it home. He cocks the hammer, primes the flashpan with gunpowder.

"Maybe…" Casey says. She prods Elizabeth again with the gun barrel then points it straight at my bride's midriff.

"NOT THE CHILD!" Elizabeth mindspeaks, roaring, sweeping her tail in front of her, knocking Casey down, the blonde's gun flying from her hands, the woman screaming.

Chen empties his automatic into Elizabeth as he backs up, Tindall behind him. His men rush in front of him, fumble with their machine guns, preparing to protect him.

Elizabeth roars, ignores Chen's bullets, kills one man with a single slash across his neck, yowls as the other man empties his clip into her. She leaps forward and seizes him in her mouth, shaking him until he no longer moves.

"Son of a bitch!" Santos shouts. He shoulders his gun, fires, the ball whizzing by the side of Elizabeth's head.

Crying, Morton tries to crawl away, saying, "Please, please."

I feel the agony of Elizabeth's wounds. I know the hunger that courses through her, the need for food to speed her healing. I share her anger at her attackers. Elizabeth bellows and I revel as she rakes Casey's body with her talons, rips her open. I smell the rich aroma of fresh blood as my bride breathes it in, savor it as she does.

The blonde screams again and Elizabeth attacks once more, biting a huge hunk of flesh from Casey's leg, swallowing it in one gulp.

Santos drops his now empty rail gun, watching my bride. Elizabeth eyes him as she tears another piece of flesh from the dying woman. She looks for Tindall and Chen, but they've disappeared from sight.

"THE MAN!" I feel my bride's hunger and need for energy, but I see the danger too. "YOU HAVE TO STOP THE MAN!"

"He's nothing," Elizabeth says.

The Cuban dives for Casey's discarded gun.

Elizabeth sweeps her tail at him, knocks him down.

Santos grabs the rail gun by the tip of the barrel and scrambles back, pushing with his feet, scooting on his rump. Elizabeth, growling, stalks him until he backs into the wall of the house. Unable to retreat any farther, he yanks the rail gun toward him just as my bride rushes at him, and slashes out with her left claw.

He blocks her with the gun-its barrel slamming into his forehead with the full force of Elizabeth's blow-then pivots the blunderbuss and fires it at point-blank range.

Fire and smoke erupt in front of Elizabeth. The noise deafens her. The massive ball passes through the side of her neck, shredding flesh, shattering her spine, splintering her shoulder bone. I bellow in my cell at the same time as Elizabeth roars in pain on the veranda. She staggers backward, collapses against the parapet, her eyes still open, her mind still aware.

Santos, almost as stunned as she, sits across the walkway from her, his back still to the house's wall. Casey lies on the deck between them, her blood coating the wood planks, her breath coming in spastic gasps. The Cuban stares at Elizabeth, waits for her to roar forward and finish him.

"I can't, Peter. I can't move.…"

"I know," I say, feeling what she feels, knowing as she does how badly she's injured. I struggle to sit up, my body finally beginning to comply. "Don't give up. Your body can survive this."

She sighs. "He won't let me."

"It won't be much longer before I can move well enough to find my way out."

"It will be too late, Peter."

Together we watch Santos. He stares at her, shakes his head, mutters, "Son of a bitch." Then he crawls toward her, stopping by Casey, putting his lips on her forehead-a farewell kiss, I suppose. He lingers a moment, then continues on, stopping just out of Elizabeth's reach. Santos examines her again, shakes his head once more. "What are you doing with that?" he says, reaching forward.

"Oh, Peter," Elizabeth mindspeaks as the Cuban undoes the gold chain that I just this morning wrapped around her wrist.

Santos holds it in his fist. Still staring at Elizabeth, he scoots back to the wall and braces against it, pushing himself up with his legs. The Cuban pauses, inspects the gold clover charm, kisses it and fastens the chain around his neck. Never taking his eyes off Elizabeth, he sidles away from her, works his way to the arms room.

Tindall and Chen come out of the shadows. Chen stoops over, picks up an AK-47 lying by the side of one of his dead men. He checks the magazine, finds it's empty and reloads it. Then, chambering a load, he points it at Elizabeth.

"Don't bother," Santos says. "I have something better."

I try to change shape, but the Dragon's Tear remains too much with me. I look around the cell, try to recognize anything that might help me free myself. The dark defeats me. I tug at my chains. They resist me. "Try to escape, Elizabeth, " I say. "Before he comes back!"

"You know better, Peter. I can't."

"You have to force yourself to heal. You have to try, even if it takes your last bit of energy."

"No," she mindspeaks. "It might kill the baby."

"Elizabeth," I say, "Without you, what chance does the child have?"

"I won't risk hurting my baby! "

I try to think of something to say to inspire her, to spur her to act in her own interest. I worry that Elizabeth's injuries have weakened her ability to reason.

Santos returns carrying a cannonball under one arm, a canister of powder under the other. He ignores Elizabeth's scrutiny, goes about the business of loading the cannon.

Frantic, I struggle against my shackles.

"I couldn't let that woman harm the baby," Elizabeth mindspeaks.

"I understand."

Once the cannon's loaded, Santos looks at Tindall. "You could help you know," he says.

Chen laughs, keeps his rifle trained at Elizabeth. "Jeremy doesn't like to get his hands dirty," he says. "He's used to others doing his work for him."

Tindall scowls at him, walks over to Santos. "Just show me what to do," he says. He grunts and groans as he helps Santos inch the ship killer around, until the black, gaping maw of the cannon aims straight at Elizabeth's head.

Santos stares at her. "I don't know what the hell you are," he says. "But this should finish you." He walks away, toward the arms room.

"Peter, I don't want to die," Elizabeth mindspeaks.

I pull at my chains as best I can, knowing I lack the strength to escape yet. "I know, my love," I say.

"Your love… I like that. Peter, I was so young… I was learning. I would have made a good wife for you after the baby was born."

"I'm sure, love. I'm sure you would have." In the dark, I feel tears wetting my cheeks, do nothing to wipe them away.

"Promise me, you'll say good things about me to our son."

"Of course," I say, not quite sure she realizes what she's saying.

Santos returns with a torch he's taken down from the wall.

Elizabeth sighs, says, "I would have been a very good mother."