Butch nodded because he wanted the evil to keep talking. “What about it?”

It was a violation of the rules of our game, and the rectification was getting my hearts back. The Creator awarded me the knowledge of that location—this after I have searched for them for centuries—and as you can see, I made the most of the reclamation of my property.

The evil took a little spin, as if it were showing off its pretty new robing.

Butch snuck one of his hands inside his jacket and locked a grip on the hilt of one of his daggers. If he could get close enough, if he could get a clear stab in the center of its chest? Maybe that would be enough—although he wasn’t under any misconceptions of what would happen if he did manage to deep-stick the motherfucker. If a normal slayer popped and fizzed when the penetration occurred? The Omega was going to relight the whole fucking city.

My sister’s miscalculation has cost her the entire war. I have won. And you will be my prize. The Omega’s sleeve lifted toward Butch. Our social acquaintance has lasted quite long enough. I believe I now wish for a more intimate association.

The evil’s energy entered Butch through the soles of his shitkickers, and the vibration traveled up his calves and his thighs, through his torso and into his head. Flexing against the onslaught, he strained and contorted, trying to fight the ownership that he could feel was coming. But like a revving engine, the disrupting power only ramped up, getting higher and higher, until he was nearly bent backward and his flesh could no longer contain the shock waves within its corporal confines.

It was as he strained and kicked his head back that he saw the figure approaching.

A female. In a parka. With red hair.

Surely he was imagining this. What the hell was Jo Early doing—

Butch shook his head. She had to go—she was going to die!

Just as he was sure he was going to explode and be consumed like the slayers had been, the internal pressure eased up and he was able to breathe again.

A visitor… we have a visitor, do we? the Omega said in Butch’s head. And you know her, do you not. Your half-sister. What a marvelous surprise. Let us bring her into this, shall we?

There was a high-pitched scream, and then Jo levitated off the ground and was swept forward, compelled to the Omega, the toes of her boots dragging over the asphalt. She fought the pull as best she could, flailing at the invisible spell that had taken her over, but there was nothing she could do. She was as helpless as the rest of them.

I’m afraid she is not my type, the Omega announced. Or I might enjoy a further kind of torture of you, my dear friend. Still, she will be a nice addition to the family when this is all done.

The Omega cast Jo aside like she was a rag doll, flipping her into the flank of a building, her body shattering the panes of a window, the glass raining down as she fell in a slump to the pavement.

“You fucking bastard!”

Butch leaped up and hit the ground running, catching the Omega by surprise. Raising his black dagger high, he plunged it into whatever he could, stabbing over and over again—

The Omega roared with fury. Grabbing Butch by the throat, it shoved its threat off, Butch’s body going spinning off to the side, the dagger flying out of his palm.

And then there was no more posturing, no conversation, no halfways.

The energy that came at Butch hit him and stayed put, penetrating into his very molecules, a cloud of agony that was going to blow him apart within seconds. As he screamed, he saw white and stopped breathing.

Just before he lost consciousness, he remembered what V had told him before he’d left the Pit. The cross. The cross would save him.

With his last quantum of strength, he pushed his hand under his muscle shirt and took out his gold cross. Holding the symptom of his faith forward, he focused his eyes on the Omega, as if he could will the evil back to Dhunhd.

Through slack lips, he began to pray. “Hail Mary, full of grace…”

The Omega’s laughter rang out in Butch’s brain. And you think that will help?

The suffering intensified even further.

CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

At the moment of his death, Butch thought of Marissa, of course. Vishous, too. And also the others who had stayed back home. They were going to be mourners for the rest of their lives and he hated it.

And then there was Wrath. He was never going to get over this. Almost all of the Brotherhood lost and most of the fighters in the house gone, too? Thank God he had Beth and L.W. to keep him from spiraling. He had spent so many centuries after his parents had been murdered by the Lessening Society angry and disconnected.

He had to continue to lead. He had to rebuild.

The vampire race had to go on after this carnage.

As the suffocation get worse, Butch could feel his heart slow down. Slower. Slower…

“Marissa,” he choked out.

His last thought was of the way they had kissed goodbye. That final moment would have to last until they met in the Fade. Assuming there even was a place to go after death now that the Omega had won. What kind of spoils would come with the evil’s victory?

Butch drew his last breath picturing the aristocratic female who had saved him from his gray, alcoholic existence, rescuing him with her love and her—

The screeching noise was something between a jet airplane skidding out on a tarmac, an industrialized balloon being popped with a pin, and seven thousand air horns going off at the same time.

And then Butch was able to breathe a little. And a little more.

And finally, fully.

With air in his lungs, his sight came back—not that that helped much. Because he had no clue what the hell he was seeing.

The Omega was still sending out all his claiming power, but there was a deflection. A block. A…

Something standing between the source of the evil and Butch was taking it in the—

It couldn’t be.

She couldn’t be.

Butch staggered up to his feet, using the building behind him as a crutch because his balance was for shit. Wheezing, but breathing, he gave his eyes every opportunity to come clean with what was really going down.

Nothing changed.

The woman who had introduced herself as his sister’s former friend, who had showed up with a busted face and a bad story, who had taken him back to a crib which twenty-four hours later didn’t exist, had staked herself in front of him and was taking everything the Omega could throw at her.

With her stiletto heels planted, and her beautiful body straining, and her brunette locks flowing in an unholy wind, she had extended her own palm and was channeling the evil into herself.

And suddenly the balance of power seemed to change.

The Omega was no longer throwing the shit out. The woman—female—whatever the fuck she was—was sucking him in. Butch knew this because the Omega took a step back, and another—and then it seemed unable to go any further.

The woman moved forward. And got even closer.

A wind began to swirl around them, currents made of air that were strong as steel, and the woman yelled out a curse—

The Omega’s white robe rotted away, the folds staining brown and gray and then going threadbare, revealing the dense, black hole of malevolence that they covered. A face emerged from within the stain, a tortured face, a face that was screaming—

Right before it blew apart.

The evil exploded, waves of energy released, breaking windows and blowing holes in the brick walls of buildings. But then came the sucking in, the ownership, the claiming of the power.