By the time we walked into the room where Balthazar was kept, he was surrounded. The hunters, except those standing guard outside, had circled him, and Kate stood in front, only a couple of feet away. His arms were stretched above his head, still handcuffed to the railing, and I could see that the skin around his wrists had been rubbed raw.

At the sound of the door, Balthazar glanced over at me. Raquel ducked her head, perhaps ashamed. I felt like doing the same, but I saw the need in his eyes. Balthazar wanted to see one friendly face while this was happening. I’d just have to be strong enough to do that for him.

“So you say this was only a revenge thing.” Kate paced the floor, her boots loud on the cement. “We hit your house, you hit ours—that’s it?”

“Sounds the same to me,” Balthazar said. “Except, of course, your attack endangered innocents. Ours didn’t.”

Kate’s response was to kick him savagely in the side.

No! I braced one hand against the wall.

Kate rasped, “I’m not taking any moral lectures from a vampire. Not the night after you killed my husband.”

Balthazar had the good sense to remain silent.

In the far corner, near where Lucas was, his expression grim and his arms folded, Eliza stood. I thought she meant only to oversee until she called, “You were after something. Admit it.”

“I told you.” Balthazar leaned his head against the wall behind him. “We were after revenge.”

Eliza shook her head. “No way. That many vampires working together—that doesn’t happen often. Mrs. Bethany’s planning something. And you’re going to tell us what it is.”

“She might be planning something,” he answered, surprising me. But I realized that Balthazar was looking right at Lucas as he said it; apparently he thought this information was important, something we ought to know. “I think she’s traveled more in the last month than in the last century. Vampires who normally consider themselves loners have flocked to her side because of the burning of Evernight. Basically, you’ve given us common cause. Mrs. Bethany might be able to use that.”

“Use that to do what?” Eliza demanded.

Balthazar closed his eyes wearily. “I don’t know. I’d planned to leave before Mrs. Bethany said we were coming here. She doesn’t take me into her confidence.”

Why would Balthazar plan to leave Evernight? I wondered. Normally, I would have expected him to be the first one helping rebuild.

Then I thought of Charity—his younger sister, the psycho, who had led Black Cross to Evernight. Balthazar had been the one to turn her into a vampire, something for which he’d never forgiven himself. She’d fled after the fire, and probably Balthazar was still trying to find her, to somehow recapture the closeness they’d lost so long ago.

“So, you say you don’t know.” Eliza stepped a little closer. I saw that she had a gun in one hand, but it was only a neon-green plastic water gun. The toy looked incredibly silly, but I realized that it would be loaded with holy water—real holy water, the kind that could burn a vampire like acid. “You understand that I don’t believe you.”

“Yeah,” Balthazar said. “I thought that was how it might go.”

“You don’t seem scared,” Eliza said.

He shrugged as best as he could in chains. “For our kind, death is only the beginning. Sometimes I think that second death is only one more doorway.”

“Dying isn’t the worst thing,” Kate said, holding one hand out toward Eliza, who tossed her the water gun. Kate caught it, pointed at Balthazar, and fired.

Balthazar’s flesh started to sizzle the moment the holy water made contact with it. He screamed, and the sound was so horrible I thought I would pass out. Then I smelled the burning and had to clutch at the wall for support.

“Oh, my God,” muttered Raquel. She paled and ran outside. Through my tear-blurred eyes, I saw Dana move to follow her.

Kate, unmoved, stood by the smoke drifting up from Balthazar’s writhing body. “You sure you don’t know what she’s up to?”

His voice shaky, Balthazar managed to get out the word, “N—no.”

“I might believe you,” Kate said. “I just don’t care.”

She shot more holy water at him, and he screamed again. His scream felt like acid washing over me. I slid down to the floor, huddling with my knees against my chest.

Milos said, “Hey, Lucas. Your girlfriend’s losing it over here. Better take her for some fresh air.”

I tried to shake my head. The only thing more horrible than seeing Balthazar hurt like this was the thought of leaving him. But Lucas was at my side in an instant, pulling me up. “Come on,” he muttered. “This is enough.”

“But—”

“Bianca. Please.”

From his place on the floor, Balthazar shouted, “Get out! I want you gone—want you all gone—”

“You wish, bloodsucker,” Kate said, her voice harder than before, and Lucas pushed me roughly out the door.

Once we were outside, I started to bawl—huge, racking sobs that made my throat and gut hurt. When I sank onto the ground, Lucas knelt beside me, his hands on my back as I wept.

“I’ll think of something,” he said, an edge of desperation in his words. “We’ve just—we’ve got to.”

I leaned back against him, trying to stop crying. In the distance I could see Raquel sitting near the river, her head in her hands, Dana beside her. Was it possible that even Raquel saw how far over the line Black Cross had gone? Could she make Dana see it, too? If we had to do something big in order to save Balthazar, something dramatic, it would help to have them on our side.