I got up and slid the cabinet door open. With tech and magic dancing back and forth, most people stuck to things that always worked for backup.

Papers, boxes, nothing of interest. I moved on to the smaller cabinet to the right. “I figured out why you don’t target women.”

“Women are the future. One man can sire a nation, but kill the women and you kill a people.”

“Nope, that’s not it. You were trained to demolish armies. Not many ancient armies were made of women.”

“You’d be surprised,” Erra said.

A glass gallon jug of kerosene, still three quarters full, sat in the corner. I pulled it out and twisted off the cap.

“Why don’t you gnaw off your leg and escape?” I asked.

“And miss out on your misery?”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure you’d be glad to miss it. If you lose your undead toy, you’ll have to look for another body to drain of blood. You didn’t escape, because making him chew off his foot would hurt you. And you don’t like pain.”

I strode to the undead.

Venom lunged at me. I sidestepped, catching his throat in my hand. My fingers touched his skin. I had already touched Erra’s mind once. It took me a fraction of a second to find it again. I grabbed it and dumped the kerosene over Venom’s head. Venom twisted, aiming a kick at my stomach. I let go and backed away, out of his reach, clinging to my aunt’s mind, chaining her to Venom’s body.

“Got a question for you.”

“And?” Erra snorted.

An awful pressure ground on my mind. I unclenched my teeth. “Can you outlast me?”

I pulled a lighter from my pocket, clicked it on, and threw it at Venom. Flames surged, licking his skin.

Erra screamed. Her mind grabbed mine and shook, the way a dog shakes a rat when it wants to kill it. I hung on with everything I had. Every ounce of fury I had to crush to get through this house. Every drop of guilt at watching Brenna’s blood splash the snow. I sank all of it into Erra’s mind, fastening her to Venom.

Burn, bitch. Burn.

The air stank of burning hair and charred fat. Venom flailed on his chain like a rabid dog.

“I’ll tear you limb from limb!”

“Does it hurt? Tell me it hurts.”

Heat and pain wound about my mind in white-hot ribbons, and squeezed. Tears swelled in my eyes. Venom burned like a human candle, and I clung to Erra’s mind.

The ribbons turned into blades and sliced into me, pulling me apart. I felt myself unraveling, as if my mind were disappearing thread by thread. An absurd vision of my veins being pulled from my body thrust itself before me. It hurt. Dear God, it hurt so much.

But the fire hurt her more.

Erra howled like a dog. “I’ll rip you apart and suck the marrow out of your bones. I’ll hunt you to the ends of the earth. You can’t hide your blood, I’ll know it anywhere. I’ll track you down. I’ll murder everyone who knows you and make you watch them die. You’ll pay for this. You’ll pay!”

The pressure ground my mind into nothing. “Quit your sniveling.”

Venom crashed to the floor. A light exploded in my mind, like a razor-sharp star. I tasted my blood—my nose was bleeding.

Pushing the words out of my mouth took a long time and they came out slurred. “Death shock. That’s what happens to a Master of the Dead when a vampire she navigates dies before she can let go of its mind. Since you keep your undead so close to your heart that it hurts you when they’re battered . . .”

“Let me go!” my aunt screamed.

“This is how you die,” I told her. “Chained to this undead piece of meat.”

“You’ll die with me,” she snarled.

Pain crushed my skull. I slumped against the wall. Fragments of my thoughts dashed back and forth like frightened rabbits. “. . . worth it . . .”

A short shape dashed into the room. I focused. Dark clothes. Indigo veil. The old woman I’d saved from some low-lives on the way to the Order. What the hell?

She leapt over the bodies and landed by me.

Erra screamed in agony.

The old woman jerked her hand up. A short spear glinted with the light of the flames. Her black eyes glared at me. “I end this. Let go now.”

I had no strength to fight her. I’d sunk all of myself into keeping Erra put. “Don’t.”

The spear spun in the woman’s hand. She flipped it and rammed the butt into my solar plexus. Pain exploded under my diaphragm, dropping me to my knees. I clawed on to the mind link but it slipped from me. The pressure vanished. My aunt broke free.

Venom jerked one last time and died.

Not again.

I surged to my feet and lunged at her. She made no move to counter. I slammed her into the wall. “Why?”

A red sheen rolled over her eyes. Diamond-shaped pupils stared back me. “I must protect you. It’s my job.”

The wall exploded. A seven-foot monster broke into the room, her fur dark, eyes glowing with green from a nightmarish meld of human face and wolf muzzle. Smaller shapes streamed into the room.

“Protect the mate!” the werewolf snarled in Jennifer’s voice. “Secure the room!”

Claws clamped me and threw me out of the room into the waiting hands of another shapeshifter.

I SAT ON THE STEPS AND WATCHED THE SHAPESHIFTERS carry bodies out of the house. Jennifer sat next to me.

I felt hollow and tired. If it wasn’t for the wall propping me up, I’d collapse. If I concentrated hard enough, I could wiggle my fingers. Concentrating hurt.

Kate Daniels, deadly swordmaster. Fear my twitching pinkie.

A young female shapeshifter carried a misshapen body out of the house. She looked a little like Brenna with lighter hair, except she was alive and Brenna was dead, because I killed her.

“I killed a little girl,” I said.

The werewolf-Jennifer stirred next to me. “She was my sister.”

I was so numb, her words took a minute to register.

“I wouldn’t let them leave.” Jennifer’s voice unnaturally calm. “I delayed evacuation. Because it was our house. We’re the wolves. We can’t be run out of our own den. Now Naomi is dead.”

I didn’t know what to say.

Jennifer turned to me. “Did she hurt when you burned him?”

“Yes.”

“It’s not enough.” Jennifer looked at the bodies laid out on the snow.

“No. I wanted to kill her, but she stopped me.”

We both looked at the woman. She sat cross-legged in the snow, her spear on her lap. Four werewolves watched her.

“Naomi was twelve,” Jennifer said.

A year younger than Julie.

The alpha female turned to me. Her eyes were wet. “I hate you for killing her.”

Welcome to the club.

A caravan of Pack Jeeps entered the parking lot.

“It hurts and you want to hurt someone, and you don’t care who,” I said. “Because hurting will make you feel better.”

“Yes.”

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