through a door that eventually led to a long, stone-lined tunnel lit sporadically by fixtures that gave off a dull, yellowish light.

I had no idea how Aidan knew where to go, but we followed him without question down the tunnel and up a set of stairs, which took us to a large basement of some sort. We crossed the basement and went through a door, then down another set of stairs that led into yet another tunnel, this one narrower than the one we were in before, but more brightly lit.

About a hundred yards in, Aidan paused, facing the wall. “It’s right about here,” he said, running a hand along the stones that made up the wall.

I didn’t see anything. “What’s here?”

“The door.” He continued to run a hand along the stones, at last stopping and turning to face us. “Here it is,” he said. “Just give me a second.”

I looked at Matthew quizzically, but he shook his head. “I don’t see a door there,” he said.

“Yeah, you sure ’bout that?” Tyler looked equally unconvinced.

“You can’t see it because your senses aren’t nearly as sharp as mine,” Aidan said. “I just have to press on this stone—this one right here.”

I held my breath as he leaned against the wall. Eventually, there was a scraping groan and it began to give. “No mortal could open this, trust me,” he said with a grunt.

The seemingly invisible door swung open, and in a single-file line, we followed Aidan through and into a huge, cavernous space that appeared to be a theater of some sort. To our left was a stage, about six feet off the ground and maybe fifteen or twenty feet deep. Enormous fringed gold velvet curtains were held back on either side of the stage. The area where the audience would sit was sort of cone shaped, narrower toward the front, but growing wider as you moved back toward the far wall.

There were two rows of long, wooden benches set out on either side of the stage, right up front, but all the other benches were stacked up against the walls, which were lit with enormous torches set high up—all glowing brightly now, casting flickering orange light across the dark stone floor.

“What is this place?” I whispered, a shiver racing down my spine. It felt ancient and a little bit evil.

“Ah, you made it,” Mrs. Girard called out, startling me so badly that I stumbled back against Matthew. He steadied me, both hands on my shoulders as we turned to watch Mrs. Girard walk across the stage toward us with Luc at her side, her heels clicking loudly against the wooden floor. “And I see you’ve assembled your troops. You’re just in time—they’re already on the move. Guards!”

The shadows behind her began to move, taking shape. Several dozen male vampires made their way across the stage and down the steps on either side. They were all enormous, each and every one of them, and menacing looking, too. I was glad they were on our side.

Mrs. Girard and Luc followed them down, coming to stand beside us. “Let me speak first,” she directed at Aidan. “And take this.”

Luc held out something that looked like a long, sheathed sword.

“I brought my own,” Aidan said, reaching for the strap thrown across his shoulders.

Mrs. Girard shook her head. “Forget that puny weapon. This sword is fit for a king.”

She pulled it from its sheath, and I had to admit it was impressive with its jeweled hilt and engraved blade. “It is said to have belonged to Louis Antoine, Duke of Angouleme, last Dauphin of France,” she said reverently. “And now it is yours, mon chou.”

Aidan took it, admiring it. While he did so, Luc removed the weapon Aidan had brought with him, the one he’d so painstakingly polished, and handed it to Tyler. “You take this,” he told him. “I’ve been told you’re pretty good with a sword.”

Tyler took it with a grin. “Indeed I am.”

“Okay, guys,” Matthew said, gathering us into a tight circle. “You know the plan. Marissa, you try to control the mood. Keep us calm and focused, if possible. Stay back behind the guards—a safe distance from the fight. Joshua, you’ll help create a diversion when we need one. We can fight only one pair at a time—try to keep us covered. And, Tyler, just help out any way you can. See what happens when you shift their molecules around. If nothing else, use the sword.”

“We’ve got this,” Tyler said with his usual swagger.

Mrs. Girard’s head snapped up at once. “They’re here,” she said. “Stay behind me for now, Aidan. When I present you, look them in the eye. Do not let them cow you.”

I bristled at her implication. Aidan wouldn’t cower, and neither would the rest of us. We were warriors—the Winterhaven Warriors.

Aidan turned to face me. Whatever happens, Vi, I love you. Heart and soul, never forget it.

Never, I answered. I have faith in you. In all of us.

And then they began to file in silently from the back of the space, filling in the shadows with their ranks.

Who are they? I asked Aidan.

Propagators, mostly. Females with their consorts. There’s the leader of the Wampiri from Russia, and behind her, leaders of the ancient tribes, mostly from Eastern Europe and the Far East. And the rest . . . just opportunists, I suppose.

There were so many of them. My wrist was burning now—a sharp, throbbing pain—my bracelet’s bloodstones glowing eerily alongside the moonstones. Without even thinking about it, my mind reached out for Matthew.

Megved.

And then he was there, inside my head. His mind was deadly calm, sharply focused. Binding my thoughts to his, I was able to find my center. A quiet determination settled over my consciousness.

Yeah, we had this.

Mrs. Girard stepped forward. “Bonsoir,” she called out loudly, her voice reverberating against walls. “I’m glad you’ve come. Tonight, the High Tribunal will be restored.”

A female vampire stepped forward, clearly their leader. She was striking, tall and inhumanly pale, her blond hair falling in loose waves down her back. “You haven’t the Eldest, Nicole Girard,” she said, her voice sharp. “But we do. You have no authority here.”

“On this night, we begin a new era of rule,” Mrs. Girard argued. “I’ve something far more powerful than the Eldest, you see. I have the one with royal blood, the one who cannot be destroyed by our kind, the one who controls every breed of slayer, who will lead us into a peaceful era of coexistence with our mortal counterparts.” She paused a beat for emphasis, smiling broadly now. “I have the Dauphin.”

She turned and gestured toward Aidan, who strode forward without a backward glance, taking his place by Mrs. Girard’s side.

The woman threw back her head and laughed. “Surely you jest, Nicole. Look at him—he’s a just a boy, a male, the weaker of our species. He’s no leader, no threat to us.”

“You underestimate him, Galina. I suggest you tread carefully,” Mrs. Girard warned.

On my unspoken command, Matthew and I moved forward in perfect unison, taking our places beside Aidan.

“And you’ve brought some mortals, I see,” the woman called Galina said, her voice laced with amusement. “Are they a part of this new era, as well?”

Even before she’d finished speaking, the two male vampires who’d been standing behind her moved forward menacingly. I saw that one carried a sword, the other a brightly lit torch. One to behead, the other to burn—a vampire assassin squad. I had only to breach the mind of the one with the sword for a split second to know their intent—they were going for Aidan, not for me and Matthew. After all, what were two mortals to them but a minor nuisance, like a pair of harmless flies?

Instantaneously, I transmitted the knowledge I’d gleaned from the vampire’s mind to Matthew, as well as my own plan of attack. A mere fraction of a second had passed—just the time it took to blink an eye—and we launched into action.

As the vampire on the left lifted his sword to strike, Aidan’s flashed out, blade meeting blade in an ear-

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