He died without a whimper, or even a last word. As every coward should.

At the edges of the room where Tad had forced them to stay, the Firstamentalists shook themselves as if waking from a deep sleep and strange dreams.

I pointed at the open window. “Firstamentalists, get out of my bakery! And if you dare come back, I will make sure you are each turned into a vampire!” My voice boomed in the small space, and the humans scrambled away at a speed that belied their frail nature.

At the window, though, the young woman who’d faced me on the street turned back. Her eyes locked with mine, and I saw there a seed of doubt. Doubt in what she was doing. I gave her a slow nod. “One day, you’ll understand.”

She spun, her long skirt flaring out behind her, and then she was gone.

I stood there with a dozen vampires around me, their boss dead on the floor. Tad in his naga form at my back. Remo’s little brother dead at my feet. I swallowed hard, the taste of venom sliding down my throat. It burned hot, a trail of fire running down into my belly to mix with the flush of guilt and horror . . . I’d killed him. And I didn’t feel bad, which made me feel bad.

One of the vamps went to his knees, and the rest slowly followed suit. “We are yours.”

“Oh no, that isn’t happening,” I said, backing up, bumping into Tad. His scales were cool against the hot flush of my skin.

Ernie flew to my shoulder and stuck his mouth in my ear. “You could use them against Hercules; don’t send them away.”

I frowned. “No, that doesn’t feel right.”

Tad shifted back to his human form and put a hand on my shoulder. “I think you should listen to Ernie.”

“Feeling right is not going to keep you alive,” the cherub pointed out.

I looked over the vampires, making eye contact with each one of them as an idea was forming. I swallowed again, then took a breath and spoke with as much confidence as I could. “Go to Remo, tell him that Santos is dead. Beg forgiveness and see if that keeps you all alive.”

“And if he turns us away?” one of them asked.

That was the last thing I was worried about. “If he turns you away . . . then . . . you can come back to me.”

Tad grunted. “It might be too late then.” I hoped he was wrong.

But the vampires all nodded one at a time.

They left quietly, but I heard one of them say something that stuck with me. “She’d make a better boss than Santos.”

“No shit,” his friend answered and then paused in the window. He looked about my age, but with vampires that was deceptive at the best of times. He had a dark-auburn hair, and his eyes were a deep chocolate brown that was brightened with flecks of gold. “Santos wasn’t kidding about the other vampires coming for you, Drakaina.”

We stared at one another, and I beckoned him back. He stepped forward.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

He swallowed hard, his throat bobbing before he answered. “He sent the last of the fennel oil to the vampire council. Along with a note that . . .” He paused and looked to where his friends—if they were friends—waited for him. One of them nodded.

“I think you should tell her.”

“Wait,” I said as I stepped over some broken glass so I was right in front of the one who said he’d sent the note to the vampire council. “What’s your name?”

“Lee.”

I held my hand out. “Alena, not Drakaina.”

He gave me a twitch of a smile. “Alena, he sent a note with the oil. It said that if something should happen to him, that the council should know about you. He said that Remo was protecting you, and that he—Remo, that is—planned to take over the council with you at his side.” He drew in a breath, though I knew he didn’t really need it. Which meant he was probably young in vampire years. “Look, Santos basically said if he died, the council should use the fennel oil to destroy you. And Remo.”

My body chilled as though the icy air sweeping through the open glass actually bothered it. “Anything else?”

Lee shook his head. “I wrote the note up for him. There was nothing else. Except a list of places you could be found.”

“Where?”

Lee frowned, obviously thinking. “House number thirteen on the other side of the Wall, the bakery here, your big house by Kerry Park, and your parents’ house.”

Tad groaned. “Shit.”

My thought exactly. If the vampire council went looking for me at my parents’, how was I going to protect them?

I held a hand out to Lee again, and he took it. “I want you to tell Remo what you told me. Go quickly; the night is fading.”

He bobbed his head, lifted my hand, and kissed the back of it. Maybe he wasn’t as young as I thought; that was a very old gesture. I took a step back and watched them fade into the darkness.

The trampling of feet on the glass faded into nothing, and I stood there, stunned at the speed at which things had happened. A flicker of lights out front caught my eyes, and a police cruiser pulled up to the curb.

I shouldn’t have been surprised. I wasn’t, not really. Just more irritated. I didn’t want any more ties to Remo than necessary, and Ben was his servant more than he was my friend.

Officer Jensen stepped out of the car and jogged to the smashed window. “What the hell happened?”

“Mob justice,” I grumbled, irritated as a bumblebee stuck in a car. I pointed at Santos. “What do we do with him?”