“You ready?” Shane asked.

“I’m ready.” I let Silverlight take a practice swipe through the heavy backwoods air. There were vampires to kill, and the excitement of that, the joy of that, was way bigger than the fear.

He glanced at me, as though he felt it—as though my bloodlust was coming from my pores. Or maybe he had the same bloodlust. He was a hunter, after all.

Then the vampires—despite two people standing back to back, one with a shotgun and one with a lethal sword, both with stakes, silver, and holy water—attacked.

We were hunters.

And as much as the hunter lusted after the death of the vampire, so the vampire lusted after the death of the hunter.

It all came down to which of us was the strongest, fastest, and luckiest.

“There are a lot of them,” I murmured, and my voice shook—but with excitement. Not terror.

“Give Silverlight her head,” he said. “She’ll take care of the rest.”

“I know. Still, there are only two of us.”

“Four.”

“What four?”

“You, me, Silverlight, and Betty.”

“Betty?”

“My shotgun.”

Then the vampires were upon us, and Betty spoke, her voice echoing through the night as she cut down half a dozen of the advancing vampires.

“Wow,” I said.

“Silver shot,” he replied, proud.

And I thought maybe he wasn’t hating on me quite so much.

Then there was no more time for talking. Only for killing.

When Silverlight sliced through vampire flesh, it was as though I not only held the blade, I was the blade. I swam through blood, hacked through bone, twisted into hearts. I had no fear.

“We call you Death.”

I was hyperaware of everything. Every sound was magnified, every sight was more vivid, every scent was more fragrant.

I found Gray’s scent again, with that extra boost, but he was not, at that moment, high on my list of priorities.

Also with that hyperawareness, I felt him, Amias, watching from the shadows.

Why did he watch? I didn’t know.

But his proximity helped me. Not because he made me feel safe, but because he made me feel savage. I killed with a viciousness I would surely regret later, because it changed me. It made me one of them—one of the revolting, ferocious, killing vampires.

And then, Amias stepped from the edge of the woods. He stood there, in plain view, a challenge, a threat.

A target.

Shane pointed the shotgun at him and started to pull the trigger. And I didn’t hesitate. I screamed a denial and launched myself between the gun and Amias. It was a terrible, instinctive reaction I had absolutely not meant to do, and Shane’s eyes widened as he watched me use myself as a fucking human shield for the vampire I hated, and in that awful distraction, a vampire caught him around the neck. His blood spurted into the air as the vampire punctured an artery, and for one long second, the fight halted.

Time slowed down.

I landed on the ground, rolled, and came up swinging, horrified at what I’d done, what I’d caused.

The vampires caught the scent of that pure hunter blood and sniffed the air. Now they not only wanted to kill the hunters, but they craved his spilling blood.

Shane brought his gun around and began pulling the trigger, but he was losing blood fast and in seconds, he fell to his knees.

I needed help, or we were both going to die. The vampires were terrified of Silverlight and that gave me an advantage—they knew one slice through any part of their bodies would give them the true death—but their numbers were large and I, though a hunter, was inexperienced.

Shane Copas was down, and that was my fault.

More vampires poured into the area, attracted by the scent of hunter blood, and as Shane lay on the cold ground, bleeding out, the vampires began to overtake me.

I cut and hacked and sliced, standing over my partner, trying to keep the vampires from getting to him, but I couldn’t hold them all back.

Shane began to die.

A thin female vampire snagged Shane’s jacket and tried to drag him away, despite the silver crucifix around his neck flaring to life and burning off half her face. She persisted, shrieking from pain, and I cut off her arm. She fell on top of him, and she died burning.

Half out of my mind, I screamed for the one person I knew could help him. The one person I knew could help me.

And when I called for him, I realized that had been exactly what he’d wanted all along. For me to need him.

“Amias,” I screamed.

And the master answered.

He was suddenly in my face, and vampires scattered in his wake, and though Silverlight went for him, I held her back.

“Save him,” I begged, and with the tip of my blade, I caught the silver chain around Shane’s neck. Broken, it slithered to the ground and died.

For a heartbeat Amias held my stare, his eyes bright and deep and full of emotion—gratitude, relief, delight, mostly delight—and then he left me to defend myself and he flew to the injured hunter.

The vampires had fallen back beneath the force of the master’s will, perhaps from shock at his appearance, definitely from respect and fear, but it would only last while he was there.

And when Amias slung Shane over his shoulder and slipped away, they were happy to let him go without a fight. The master had the fallen hunter, and they wanted me.

I whirled Silverlight through the air. “Come on, then,” I screamed. “Come and get me. Come and get me!”

And because they hesitated, I got tired of waiting, and I went to get them.

Silverlight led the way, and she was raging. She’d been deprived of Amias, and she hadn’t liked that. She hadn’t liked that at all.

I sliced through milling vampires whose confusion at the appearance of the reclusive master had caused them to waver. But then their hunger and their innate urge to kill a hunter won out, and the battle began anew.

Blood splashed into my face, coating my skin and obscuring my vision, but Silverlight saw for me until I could blink away the blood. The fight became more brutal. As did I.

The sword and I began to push back the vampires—and that was saying something, because they were not weak or slow, those vampires. They weren’t like the vampires on TV, but they were stronger and faster than any human. Silverlight was more than a match for them, even if I was not.

Not yet.

But someday, I would be.

When the number of vampires began to dwindle and the fallen, bloody bodies began to smoke, and then to disappear, the remaining bloodsuckers’ fear for their lives prevailed over their need to end mine.

They ran.

And when the night, black and silver and soft yellow beneath a watchful moon, became too quiet and dark and heavy, I slid my cell from my pocket. I held it in my bloody hand for ten minutes before I gained the courage to call Angus.

“Trin. You okay?”

“Angus.” My voice broke into a sob. “I fucked up, Angus.”

“Are you hurt?”

“No.”

“Tell me where you are. I’ll come for you.”

I shuddered, then took a deep, shaky breath. “Shane was…injured. It was my fault. I had to ask Amias for help.”

“The vampire has the hunter?” There was a cautious disbelief in his voice, as though I couldn’t possibly be saying what he thought I was saying.

“Yes. He’ll save him. I think he’ll bring him to you after he’s healed him.”

Angus breathed softly into the phone. “Trinity. Trinity.”

“I didn’t know what else to do,” I whispered. “He was dying.”

And finally, it occurred to me exactly what I’d done.

Not only had I nearly gotten Shane killed, then handed him over to the master vampire who’d slaughtered my family, I’d doomed the proud hunter to a fate worse than death.

Amias might have to turn him to save him.

Shane would become the thing he hated most in the world.

A vampire.

He would kill me for that.

And I would deserve it.

“Trin,” Angus murmured, and there was so much pity in his voice I couldn’t stand to hear it. “Stay where you are. I’ll find you.”

Numb and sick with despair, I slipped the phone back into my pocket, then holstered Silverlight and began walking back the way I’d come.

Baby hunter, indeed.