One upside to being a vampire is being rich enough to have a private gym in your house.

I was certainly appreciating it at the moment. After the long, silent flight back from Romania to Carver's home in the city, I was more than ready to work out some excess energy. I'd changed into exercise clothes as soon as we'd arrived and set to beating myself bloody on Carver's heavy bag.

The finished basement was quiet but for the sound of my fists hitting canvas and the irritating hum of the fluorescent lights. I’d always hated that noise, but now that I was a vampire it was more annoying than ever. It seemed to reverberate off the clean mats, the carefully maintained weight lifting equipment, and the mirrors on the wall which reflected my failure back at me like an infinite corridor of fuck-ups. I eyed them, wondering if I could jump up and smash them. It’s not like I couldn’t see in the dark anyways.

I felt so stupid. I'd been completely certain Abe was there. I'd seen it as clearly as I could see the punching bag in front of me. Had I been wrong about all of it? Had I ever seen that tomb, or just convinced myself that I had? Maybe being turned had also driven me crazy and I was just hallucinating. Hell, probably this was all happening in my head while I rolled around in a straightjacket in some psych ward anyway. Nothing would surprise me at this point. I’d wake up tomorrow when the doctors find the right combination of meds to bring me out of my bizarre vampire fever dream and everything would go back to normal. Yeah, right. My life was never that easy.

I hit the bag harder, frustration growing. I hated that thought. As shocking as being suddenly turned had been, the idea of going back to my previous life was worse. The trip to Paris had been the most exciting thing I’d done in ages. I’d had no plan before, no real ambitions. I was just blindly following the school-work-family-death path of middle class American life. And then this came out of nowhere. And yeah it’s terrifying and drinking blood is a little gross, and I could die but fuck if I don’t feel alive for the first time. Like I’m doing something that matters. Or at least, I thought I was.

I'd been so ready for it. To find Abe, to be the hero, to drink in that feeling of real accomplishment. And instead it feels like we've been sent back to square one. Worse that square one. We aren't even on the board anymore! We have no leads. Finding Abe at this point is impossible.

I scream as I slam my fist into the punching bag with all my new vampiric strength, sending it swinging wildly.

I stand there, breathing hard as I wait for it to settle. I'm so caught up in my own head I don't even notice Lucian coming into the room until he catches the swinging bag and positions himself behind it. He’s changed clothes into something more relaxed as well. A dark shirt that matches his hair and sets off those warm eyes I keep getting lost in. I give him a grateful smile before I go at it again, harder now that the bag is being braced.

"You seem upset," Lucian says sarcastically as I hit the bag hard enough to make his feet slide back. "Want to tell me what's bothering you?"

I give him a sour look. He knows what's bothering me.

"Mistakes happen," he says seriously. I hit the bag hard enough to jar him again, the sound of my fist on the canvas a sharp smack and he harrumphs.

"It wasn't a mistake," I say through gritted teeth. "He was there, Lucian. Abe guided me there himself. I don't get it!" I blow a stray strand of hair out of my face.

I slam the bag again and Lucian's eyes widen as he struggles to hold it.

"It happens," Lucian says patiently. "Sometimes you do everything right and things still go wrong. It is possible to have every eventuality planned for and still lose. That is not weakness. That is life."

I pause hitting the bag for a moment, the sound of my breathing echoing in the large room as I process that. Finally I give him a hard look, a smile curling the corner of my mouth.

"Did you just quote Star Trek at me?"

Lucian shrugs, unruffled. "Gene Rodenberry was a wise man with a vision ahead of his time."

"Nerd." I chuckle.

"You recognized it." He points a finger at me, a smile flirting at the corner of his lips.

But he's got me laughing now and that makes it difficult to remember how pissed off I was. I go at the bag again, losing steam now.

"So what happens now?" I ask. "We've got no leads on Abe and if Morana realizes we aren't at the fête she'll have us buried alive." Or staked. Or burned or whatever her black little soul comes up with for funsies.

"We survive the next few days," Lucian answers. "Once the fête is over we go home, clear our heads, and start again. After you've had time to rest you may have another vision."

"We've seen how reliable those are," I scoff, throwing a flurry of quick jabs, then slowing. I hesitate, not sure if I'm ready to be this vulnerable around Lucian. The memory of that kiss warms me, encouraging me to try. "…I feel like a failure. Abe was counting on me. Our friends are counting on me. You and Carver risked so much to follow my crazy vision."

I stop, looking down at my hands, bloody knuckles already healing. "I never did much with my life, before all this. I wanted this to be different. I felt like I finally had a purpose. To fail now..."

Lucian steps out from behind the bag and takes my hands, holding them carefully in his own.

"You haven't failed," he says softly, thumb stroking the backs of my fingers. "Not till you've given up."

"More Star Trek?" I ask, smiling.

"No," he says, meeting my eyes at last and smiling back. "Just experience."

Our gaze holds and for a moment I think he might say something more, something I'm really hoping to hear.

Before he can speak the door opens. Carver doesn't even step inside before he speaks.

"Lavinia's here."

All three of us hurry upstairs to where the ruler of the surviving Dakvahar sits on Carver's couch, looking pale and weak. She's sipping a blood pack from Carver's fridge. Her brown hair has been bleached blond and she’s wearing a worn hoodie. There's blood on one sleeve and splashed across the bottom hem. I can't tell if it's hers. She's clearly been through the ringer. It’s an odd contrast to Carver’s prim, old fashioned living room with its richly patterned wall paper and deep burgundy carpet, a fire roaring in the elaborate old fireplace. So much violence in a place so pretty.

"What happened?" Carver asks, concern obvious as we settle in around Lavinia, him on the couch beside her, Lucian and I taking the arm chairs across the coffee table.

"Morana found us," Lavinia says between sips of blood. "Sent the rest of La Tiruer after us."

"Does she know we're working with you?" I ask, tensing with worry, but Lavinia shakes her head and I exhale a sigh of relief.

"No. But she's moved Abhertauch."

"Yeah, we found that out first hand," I say, grimacing, but Lavinia is shaking her head again.

"Not Romania," she says. "We suspect she moved him from there a long time ago. By the time we found out for certain where he was, you were already on the plane. The visions you had must have been the last things he remembered. He wasn't aware enough to notice being moved again."

"But you found him?" Carver asks, confused. Lavinia drags a tired hand down her face.

"No," she says, sounding exhausted. "We found the place, prepared to attack it. But it was an ambush. She'd already moved him again. I lost many of my best men and barely escaped myself."

"La Tiruer?" Carver assumes, and Lavinia nods.

"Henry and Laurent."

Carver curses under his breath.

"She's got something else too," Lavinia says seriously, her expression harrowed. "Some kind of creature. Something I've never seen. And more dangerous than any La Tiruer."

I shiver, wondering what could possibly be worse than a team of trained vampire assassins.

"So what do we do?" Lucian asked. "You found him once, you can find him again."

"You need to get out," Lavinia says at once. "You need to take Aura and get away from here as quickly as possible."

"No," I counter immediately. "I'm not giving up. I'll have another vision. Once we find him-"

"You're not listening," Lavinia says sharply. "Finding him isn't the problem anymore. Morana will just keep moving him and strengthening her guard."

"So we're more cautious," I try to argue. "We don't let her know we're coming until-"

"You are the last connection we have to Abe," Lavinia says, interrupting. "If we lose you, we lose everything. That cannot happen."

She turns her hard stare on Carver and Lucian.

"If you want to survive, if any of us are going to survive, you need to take her and run."