It had been three days since Kat had seen Darius. He had work keeping him busy—apparently, the Lord General had to go to Russia soon, and Darius had to make preparations for that trip—and she had training, but they texted often. She found his overuse of emojis endearing.

They had plans to go out tonight—the first time they’d be hunting together for food. Nerves fluttered in her belly from both excitement and anticipation. After a long daytime training session, Kat looked forward to a shower before getting ready.

Both Kat and Dawn teleported to their room.

And both drew their weapons—Dawn a silvered sword, Kat a stake—when they realized there was an intruder inside.

“Don’t stab me,” Darius said, holding up his arms, looking sharp in a fitted suit. “I quite like being unstabbed.”

Kat’s eyes widened.

There were flowers everywhere.

All different types, in as many colors as she could think of. Some even seemed to shimmer unnaturally in the center.

“Great. I’m going to be sneezing for days,” Dawn said as she sheathed her sword.

Darius looked smug. “I got you something.”

She shook her head. “You got me a lot of somethings. This is an excessive number of flowers.”

“I did research. Humans enjoy flowers, right? We like them too, but they’re typically used for decoration, not for courting.”

“Courting?” Kat laughed, finding his worried expression adorable. She tossed her stake on the bed and sauntered to him. He met her halfway, sweeping her up into a long, passionate kiss. The kind that had her mind floating and ears buzzing. She pressed into his hard body and moaned.

Dawn cleared her throat.

Kat and Darius broke the kiss, wearing wide grins.

“Do you like them?” he asked.

“Love them, but maybe next time get me like one bouquet, not fifty.”

Dawn began to unlace the side of her leather bodice-looking armor. “You owe me a new shirt, Lord Darius. And if Kat’s going to keep borrowing my shirts you need to show a little self-control.”

“And I suppose you’ve already picked out the replacement,” he said.

Pulling out her phone, Dawn unlocked it and showed Darius a picture on it.

He lifted an eyebrow. “That Maeki is a tad more expensive than the last season Losap I ripped.”

Kat understood a few of those words. Designers or something.

Dawn relocked her phone. “Yep. Consider it a goodwill gesture. Advance payment for all the times I’ll need to make myself scarce.”

“Alright. I’ll order you one.”

“How much can a single shirt be?” Kat asked.

“That one is six fifty.”

If Kat had water in her mouth, she would have spat it out. “Six hundred and fifty dollars? For a shirt?”

“Are you going to get Kat a new wardrobe?” Dawn said completely ignoring Kat’s outburst. “I wouldn’t mind having a few more options on hand…”

Darrius shrugged. “That’s up to her.”

“You want to buy me new clothes?” Kat’s wardrobe consisted mostly of cheap oversized shirts and leggings.

“I’m responsible for dressing all the lords and ladies at Ashwood. I’d have fun picking out clothes for you.”

“Fun? Ugh. You can’t if you’re going to spend six fifty on a shirt. I don’t think I could eat wearing a shirt that cost that much, I’d be too worried about spilling stuff on it.”

“You’re welcome to set a budget if—”

Alarms sounded.

They listened for a moment.

“Those are the prison alarms,” Dawn said and looked down at her laces, wearing a sour look on her face. “Senta.” The leather straps began to move on their own, relacing the bodice. A small amount of magic—lacing up, but not down—is weaved into the leathers, she had explained to Kat days ago. Besides getting them into battle quicker, the magic helped absorb heavy impacts, like taking a direct punch from a vampire. “I’m going to be pissed if this is a drill. I was looking forward to vegging in pj’s.”

“No drills are on the schedule.” Darius squeezed Kat’s shoulder. She wasn’t sure if he did it to comfort her or reassure himself. “Don’t worry. No vampire can escape the prison. It’s probably some vampires misbehaving.”

“What do you fight with, Lord Darius?”

“I’m most proficient with a long sword.”

Dawn pulled one off the wall and tossed it to him. He weighed it in his hand.

“You know how to use that?” Kat asked, putting on a hunter’s belt. This one had a few silver throwing daggers and two stakes.

“We’re in the middle of a war,” he said, offended. “All incubi are trained to fight, and I grew up around warriors. You managed to kill vampires with no runes and I’m far stronger than most humans.”

“Right, okay. Sorry.” Kat put the earpiece of her comm in and turned it on.

Chaos filled her ears.

Hundreds of hunters trying to figure out what the hell was happening.

“The wards have been broken,” Dawn said, also listening. “It seems they’ve all been drained of their magic.”

“How? Vampires would need their own witches. They refuse to work with each other.”

“Let’s go find out,” Dawn ran from the room, Kat and Darius trailing after her. Around them, hunters exited their own rooms and teleported outside.

When they exited the dorms, dozens of other hunters were waiting, weapons drawn, listening to their comms for orders. A handful of warrior incubi were in their massive full forms, wearing thick metal armor. Two of them jumped into the air, spreading their wings wide, and took off. They flew in a circle pattern, scouting.

An eerie silence fell upon the area. Both alarms and comm chatter died.

Everyone waited.

A single dispatcher broke through the PA system. “Ashwood Estate is under assault. Over forty vampires are scaling the outer walls. No response from teams Ashwood Black, Death Fall, or Ghostshot. Unable to locate Commander Cullip or High Lord General Tarrick. Backup requested. All hunters are to rendezvous with their team leader for further instructions.”

Kat looked to Darius, who kept his face hard and emotions hidden, but hearing that the Lord General was missing couldn’t be easy for him.

Teams began grouping, but before any could teleport out an explosion blasted from under the ground. A geyser of dirt shot into the air and rained on everyone. Darius yanked Kat out of the way of a softball-sized rock.

New voices filled the comm lines: “Prison escape. — All the guards are dead. — Civilians, fall back to the leystone. Ashwood Purple teleport them out of here. — Ashwood Estate is on its own. Backup is impossible. — We’re about to be overrun by over two hundred vampires. — Kill on sight. Do not leave them staked.”

The comms went dead.

A single vampire rose out of the ground, breaking through the earth, the dirt peeling away unnaturally. It never got the chance to stand as a hunter descended on it and drove a stake into its heart. It lost its head a moment later.

A few hundred feet away, another vampire emerged. A different hunter took it down.

“Holy shit, vampires can move dirt around?” Kat asked.

“Are you serious?” Dawn pulled out a silver dagger as a vampire broke out of the ground near them. She hurled the weapon and hit the creature in its blood pouch; dark red liquid sprayed the air. It hissed and lunged at her, only to be beheaded by another hunter. “It’s like on page one of the Vampire Manual.”

Chaos descended on the academy as hundreds of vampires began crawling out of the dirt.

Instructors and leaders were shouting commands. Bolts and arrows filled the air as hunters began firing. Vampires growled and attacked. Hunters teleported around, trying to either escape or fight back.

Kat watched a cadet appear beside a vampire only to lose his arm as the creature turned and ripped it from him as easily as plucking fruit from a tree. The hunter’s screams chilled Kat to the bone.

Dawn grabbed Darius’ wrist. “Come on, my lord, you need to evacuate.”

Darius looked at the vampires, gripped his sword. For a moment, it looked as if he might protest but he nodded and followed her back into Lincoln Hall.

A vampire broke the soil near Kat’s feet. She teleported back a little and tossed a throwing dagger, hitting it in the shoulder. It hissed and sped away, only to meet a hail of bolts, turning him into a pincushion.

Screeching came from the sky. Vampires with wings—lords—surrounded by a swarm of bats were flying to the academy.

The comms cackled, cutting in and out, adding to the madness: “Group up. — Fall back. — Ghost Wolves flank the south side. — Cold Calm don’t let that vampire escape. — Ashwood Silver, secure the arena. —We need to dust the area.”

Advance teams gathered and broke, targeting individual vampires. Lords were priority. A single lord could down dozens of hunters easily. Maybe more.

Kat had never seen anything like it. Some teams moved with practiced precision, keeping calm despite the bedlam, while others—mostly the cadet teams—were scattered, fighting on their own.

The screeching grew louder and Kat’s attention turned to the bats. They dove to the ground, and it looked as if the swarm disappeared into the earth. Moments later, the bats reemerged. They took the shape of two people: Mont, in all his pale glory, and her dad.

They stood between her and the doors to Lincoln Hall. Between her and Darius.

“Kat! Teleport insi—” before Darius could finish, Mont was on her, moving faster than she could even see. He slapped the side of her head so hard her ears started ringing and everything spun. She tried to teleport away but couldn’t focus enough to activate the rune.

She staggered forward…into Mont’s arms. His limbs wrapped around her and she felt as if her body broke apart, dimly aware of Darius yelling and chasing after her. But he began to shrink.

Bats.

She had somehow turned into bats.

Unable to move her body, she could see the forest below her, and the academy in the distance. Smoke rose from it. Green flashed. Screams caught her ear.

She could make out incubi warriors fighting vampire lords in the night sky. Their weapons clashing.

Another figure flew after her, still some distance away.

Darius.

No.

Mont would kill him.

Her bat-swarm body began to ache as if Mont was unable to maintain this form any longer. The bats entered the forest, and she reformed, tumbling to the ground. Her head pounded. She turned on the rune that let her see in the dark, her eyes glowing green.

Thick, looming trees surrounded her. Not far, Mont clung to her dad. Embraced him.

“Sire,” Dad said, his fangs grew long and he sunk them into Mont’s neck like a leech.

Using a tree, Kat pulled herself to her feet and grabbed a stake from her belt. She staggered forward but couldn’t find her footing and returned to holding the trunk.

“This will be easier if you don’t fight it,” Mont said.

It took a second to realize he was addressing her. “I could say the same to you.”

The edge of the vampire’s lip twitched as if amused. “It is a shame I am not looking for another child. You would make an interesting one.”

“As if I’d ever let one of you bloodsuckers turn me.” She retrieved the vial of vampire blood from her belt and downed it. She ignored her own hypocrisy of calling them bloodsuckers, as the liquid healed her head wound.

Her dad removed his fangs from Mont’s neck and licked the already mending wound. “I could be with her again, Sire, if you turn her.”

She froze. Between the mindless rages, and wanting to kill her, did the creature really remember who she was? Did he remember himself?

Mont ran his spindly fingers through her dad’s hair. “My child seems to still be attached to you. Unusual, but not unheard of. I’ll end you for him and spare him the pain.”

“That’s nice of you, but I won’t go down so easy.”

The vampire smiled wide this time, his fangs catching the moonlight. He moved, appearing inches away from her, knocking the stake from her hand and grabbing her throat. “A novice hunter poses no threat to me.”

“Sire, please,” her dad said.

Mont looked back at his sired son. “I must. I am suppressing your urge to kill her, but eventually, even I cannot hold you back. Either I do this now, or you will eventually.”

Kat, who had given up on trying to breathe, kicked at Mont, her heavy boot connecting solidly against his ribs. His body felt like stone, and he didn’t even flinch at the contact.

Her dad touched Mont’s arm, a pained expression on his face. “She’s my daughter.”

Mont opened his mouth to say something but never got the chance.

Darius—in his full incubus form—dove from the sky slamming into the vampire lord. The two became a mass of skin and wings and claws. Darius thrust his sword through Mont’s chest, driving it in deep.

If the weapon hurt Mont at all, there was no evidence of it. The vampire ignored the blade and continued to attack. He landed a blow to Darius’ side; ribs broke. Darius clawed the creature, scratching it across its face. If he had been fighting anything but a vampire lord, Darius might have actually injured it, but Mont healed back each wound almost as quickly as he got them.

With incredible strength, Mont ended up on top. He grabbed Darius’ horn and pulled the incubus’ head back, exposing his neck. The vampire pierced Darius’s skin with both an upper and lower set of fangs and began to pull in mouthfuls of blood.

Darius struggled; punching, kicking, and kneeing at Mont, but the parasite didn’t budge. Needing to save him, Kat ran at Mont, raising her stake. As she took aim at the monster’s heart, a cold hand wrapped around her wrist; clawed fingertips pierced her skin.

Dad.

Whatever Mont had done to keep Dad’s rage at bay no longer had any effect.

Kat teleported a few feet away, and Dad swiped the empty air with his claws. He growled, leaping after her.

Darius cried out. Kat looked in his direction and saw Mont sinking claws into his torso. Using the distraction, her dad came at her. Five sharp claws sliced her left shoulder open like butter.

Pain flared across Kat’s body as muscle and bone split apart.

She stabbed at him with her stake, missing his heart by inches. Before she could try again his fist connected to her stomach and she went flying, slamming into a tree. She bounced on the frozen leaves and dirt.

She tried to activate the strength rune. It turned on for a moment then sputtered out, the pain overwhelming her.

An icy chill ran through her veins as she realized they had no hope. Always the fighter, she refused to give up but that didn’t change reality. A vampire lord could easily kill a social incubus and a novice vampire hunter. Both her and Darius were going to die.

Her dad—with the stake still in his chest—came at her again.

Blood poured from her shoulder; she stood and drew a dagger with her working hand.

She dodged, and sharp claws missed her face by inches. Her dad came at her again but before his claws could connect, a silver chain corkscrewed passed Kat’s head and wrapped around the vampire’s arm, causing him to scream in agony as the silver burned his skin.

“How is it”—Necrus yanked his arm back, throwing her dad off balance, and in a single smooth motion brandished his chain like a whip, striking across the vampire’s face—“that I have the worst runes on this fucking team, and I’m always the first to show up?”

“Maybe”—Javi teleported behind Kat’s dad and drove a stake into the creature’s heart through the back; her dad fell to the ground—“you’re secretly powering your runes by sarcasm and have been hiding it from us.”

“Unlikely,” Brick said as he appeared beside Mont, bashing his silver, flanged mace into the vampire’s head with a wet thwak.

The cavalry had arrived.