evil. If you and Rhynn will trust me, we may be able to save lives here tonight.'

Frajen nodded without hesitation. Slowly, Rhynn did likewise. Jander let himself relax. 'Give me time to think. Frajen, be careful-keep your symbol well hidden and do not use any magic. Our kind can sense it. And tell Pogg to clean up the blood. It's becoming hard to resist.'

The priest nodded and went to the innkeeper. Jander watched as Pogg brought in a bucket of water and three towels. He and Trevys wordlessly began to wipe at the puddles of red soaking into the floorboards while Frajen and Rhynn moved among the wounded. They recruited the rest of the patrons, more to keep the frightened people occupied than for the feeble assistance they could offer.

Jander glared at Marys and Erith, aware that they were still watching him. At first they were intent on watching the gold elf's every move, but the women were young and inexperienced, so he paid them little mind. Jander returned his attention to Frajen, and his eyes widened at what the priest was doing.

Frajen had gone to kneel beside Pogg and Trevys, ostensibly to help them clean the floor. To a casual observer, he did indeed seem to be doing that, holding onto the wooden pail with one hand and wiping at the bloody floor with a wet rag held in the other. Jander saw, however, that the morninglord's eyes were half closed and his lips moved slightly.

He was consecrating the water.

Why can I not sense the magic? Jander wondered fleetingly, then realized that creating holy water was nothing so arcane as magic, merely a holy blessing. Very clever, Frajen! he admitted silently.

The elf's gaze flickered to Erith and Marys. Erith was looking about for new amusement, and Marys, still in wolf form, lay curled up near the dead mage, though her eyes remained open and watchful. Soon, the two would notice what the priest was up to. Jander needed a distraction.

The odds would never be better-Jander had a trained soldier and a cleric on his side, and all three vampires nearby were newly undead. Cassiar would be dangerous, and deadly. Jander knew that he was not up to that confrontation, not in his present voracious and weakened state. But he had to try.

'No more,' he said softly to himself. 'No more. Aluise is the last.'

He strode to the wall lined with wooden pegs and tore down the cloaks. The movement drew the attention of mortal and vampire alike. He felt their eyes on him, their tension, as they wondered what the strange gold-skinned vampire was going to do next. The cloak pegs were about nine inches long-just long enough for Jander's purposes. Grimly the elf splintered off several of them, glancing back over his shoulder to gauge the reactions of the vampiresses.

Marys had risen to all fours, and the hair on her neck was standing up. She began to growl softly. Erith's eyes narrowed. 'Beware, elf,' she began menacingly.

Jander glanced surreptitiously at Frajen. Imperceptibly, the priest inclined his blond head. The elven vampire glanced over at Rhynn, and he saw her expression harden into a mask of cold comprehension.

In one swift movement, Jander tossed a stake apiece to Rhynn and Frajen, keeping a third for himself. Erith rose as swiftly, the severed head tumbling from her lap and landing with a dull thump on the floor. Jander was no longer a fellow predator. He had crossed the line, and now, he was prey.

'Do it, Trevys!' Frajen cried.

The farm boy got to his feet and hurled the bucketful of bloody, blessed water directly into Erith's face. The sacred liquid acted like acid upon the vampiress's profane flesh. Her face melted, dripping like candle wax from a flame. Erith's wail was keen and sharp, and she clawed at her horribly disfigured, smoking face. She fell to the floor, no longer a thing of horrible beauty, merely a thing of horror.

Frajen cried Lathander's name as he lunged at Erith. He stabbed the writhing undead again and again in the chest. Her hands clutched and scratched at him, scoring his cheek, but the priest didn't falter. At last, he pressed the deadly point of wood deep into the vampiress's heart.

Marys, meanwhile, had leaped in deadly silence at Rhynn. Not even Jander had fully appreciated how swiftly the beast could move, and as he watched her attack, he knew he would be unable to reach the Rider in time to shield her. Desperately he hurled the wooden dagger toward Marys's gray shape. The sharpened peg bit into the vampiress's hindquarters.

Marys arched in mid-leap, yelping from the sting of the wooden weapon, and landed heavily atop the Rider. Rhynn went down under the wolf's weight. Hot breath fanned her face, but before Marys could secure a deadly grip on the elfmaid's throat Jander was there. He twined his gold fingers into the thick ruff about the wolf's neck and yanked Marys's head back. Rhynn rallied, thrusting upward with the sharpened peg, plunging the wood deep into the wolf-thing's broad chest.

The vampiress's howl of outrage suddenly changed to a choked whimper. Blood flowed around the wood. Rhynn kept her hold, shoving ever deeper, grimacing only a little as Marys's blood dripped into her eye, stinging horribly. The Rider blinked it away. At last Marys ceased to struggle, and her weight pressed heavily down upon the slender elf woman.

Jander heaved the corpse aside. 'Are you all right?' the vampire demanded.

Taking a shaky breath, Rhynn nodded and let Jander help her to her feet. Frajen stumbled over to them, covered with blood and breathing heavily.

'Jander,' gasped the morninglord, 'Pogg says there's a way out the back, through the cellar. May we go?'

'Of course. But you'd best hurry.' Jander glanced up at the ceiling, toward the room where Cassiar was having his sport. 'I'll get the third. See them to safety. The boy should go first. Be careful, Frajen.'

Frajen smiled ever so slightly. 'The blessing of Lathander be upon you, Jander Sunstar,' he said softly, then turned to help Pogg and young Trevys with the trap door in the kitchen.

'I must go too,' said Rhynn brusquely. She was every inch the professional soldier now, and her face was hard and implacable. 'I'm a Rider, and the villagers need me.'

Jander smiled, but his silver eyes were sorrowful. 'Of course, Rhynn. Hurry.'

She nodded once, her blue eyes revealing no trace of softer emotions, and ran lithely to join Frajen.

The gold elf strode to the door, stooping to pick up one of the coat pegs, then heaved the oaken door open with a swift movement.

Instantly Theorn turned to him, indignant fury in his voice. 'No one enters-'

'No one leaves,' Jander finished smoothly, driving the makeshift stake home through the thick leather armor. 'I'm not leaving.'

Theorn made a small choking sound. Then, his chest heaving, he managed to bellow a single name. 'Cassiar!'

His dying cry mingled with a sonorous chiming, and Jander realized that someone was ringing Mistledale's warning bell. The other Riders would be alerted. Jander only hoped there was enough time to complete the bloody task he had set for himself before they arrived. The elf whirled as Theorn's body fell against the door frame with a heavy thump.

A movement by the bar caught Jander's eye. He jumped, teeth bared, hissing. 'It's me,' came Frajen's reassuring voice as he climbed out of the trap door and closed it after himself. 'Rhynn's taking care of the locals. I'm staying. You might need some help.'

'No!' Jander cried. 'You don't know what he is. You don't know what he'll-'

'What in the Nine Hells is going on!' shrieked a shrill, nervous voice. Elf and priest looked up to see a very angry Cassiar hastening down the stairs. He had removed his vest, and his open shirt fluttered as he ran. His copper hair was tousled. Except for the blood that had splashed on his bared chest, Cassiar looked more like an interrupted libertine than a vampire. 'Who called for me? Jander, what's- Bane's black heart! Where is everyone?'

'They're gone, Cassiar,' Jander said, suddenly laughing. 'You'll not torture them, or anyone else, ever again. You die tonight, you bastard. And these-' he held up his golden hands '-are the instruments of your death.'

Cassiar frowned. 'Jander, stop it. You were wrong to let them go, and you'll be pun-What have you done to them?' he cried, catching sight of the bodies of the vampiresses.

Jander continued to grin savagely, exposing his fangs. Raw excitement was coursing through him, fueled by his anger and his driving hunger. 'They are at peace.'

Cassiar, full of wrath, turned upon the elven vampire. 'On your knees!'

It was a ritual they had performed often before. Each time Jander had tried to thwart Cassiar, urge him to mercy or pity or outright defied him, the vampire lord would command the gold elf's obedience. And Jander,

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