Behind Charity, Lucas staggered to his knees, then slid down toward the floor again. Only now could I see how roughed up he was; even before Charity’s last blow, he’d been in trouble.

“Bianca?” he groaned. “Can’t—can’t be—Is it you?”

“I need a family,” Charity whispered. “Can you understand that? How lonely I’ve been? My tribe—they follow me, they help me, but they aren’t family.”

“You have a brother.” I was surprised I could speak out loud.

“You could be with him if—if you would just stop—”

“Stop acting like a vampire.” Charity’s head drooped, and her fair curls tumbled past her shoulders. She took a step toward me. “That’s not the answer. At least now I know what to do. To tie Balthazar to me, I have to tie myself to you. That means we’ll need something in common.”

“Don’t hurt her!” Lucas charged toward Charity, but she wheeled around in time to avoid the blow. He was still stunned, still too weak to fight at his best. Swiftly she grabbed Lucas, jerked back his head, and bit deeply into his throat.

I screamed. It seemed as if the whole world was screaming, as if there were nothing but my scream and the sight of Lucas struggling against Charity, then slumping into unconsciousness as she drank, and drank, and drank. Her lips at his neck darkened with his blood, and her body shuddered with pleasure at every swallow.

Charity finally pulled back and let Lucas go. His body fell heavily to the floor with a thud. My scream cut off, replaced by the most terrible silence.

“That will do it,” Charity whispered. She gave me a pitying look, then glanced sharply over her shoulder. I realized that people were coming up the stairs, and she didn’t look pleased.

Charity ran to the gouged hole in the projection-room wall and leaped out. For a second I saw her dark shape silhouetted against the white screen, but then she was gone.

It can’t be. It can’t be. Please, no.

I somehow managed to gather myself. More than anything, I wanted to go to Lucas, but first I went to the doorway and closed my hand over my bracelet. Instantly, I had substance again. Now I could help Lucas. I could carry him downstairs or do CPR or help him sit up, whatever he would need.

Lucas lay still in the darkness. A few drops of his blood stained the floor, and the bite mark on his throat was gory. When I’d bitten him, the only wounds had been my fang marks. Charity had torn his flesh open.

That’s okay. It will heal.

“Lucas?” I whispered. With my fingers, I brushed against his cheek. He didn’t move. “Lucas, it’s me. I’m here.” Still, nothing.

Reluctantly, I pressed my hand to his chest, and I felt no heartbeat. Lucas was dead.

I didn’t want to face it. I couldn’t hide from it. Charity had murdered Lucas before my eyes. I’d come back to try to rescue him, but I’d been too late.

Oh, no. Please, no. But there was no one to beg, no power who could grant my wish to go back in time, to take back what had just happened. I was trapped in the horror of what was real and irrevocable.

The thumping on the stairs grew louder, and then Balthazar, Ranulf, and Vic burst into the room. Each of them froze as they saw the scene before them, and Vic clapped his hand to his mouth like he thought he might scream, too.

“It was Charity,” I whispered. “She drank his blood. She killed him.”

Vic sank to his knees. I simply cradled Lucas’s head in my lap, wishing I’d had a moment to touch him, just once, before the end. It would have meant so much to me, to have one more second together. But Charity had stolen that, too. I thought about Juliet, holding the fallen Romeo in her arms; she also had returned from the dead too late.

Ranulf bowed his head. Balthazar stepped forward and laid one hand on my shoulder, but I shrugged it off.

“This is your fault,” I said. I didn’t shout; I didn’t have to for the force of my words to be felt. Balthazar had to know this as well as I did. “You dragged him out here even though you knew he was in no shape to fight. You never could face the fact that Charity’s a monster. Because of that, Lucas lost his life. Don’t you ever—ever—talk to me again.”

Balthazar lifted his chin. Although I could see the pain in his eyes, he didn’t have the decency to walk away. “If you still feel that way in a couple of days, I’ll respect your wishes.”

“You’ll respect them now.” Could I put my hand through Balthazar’s chest, hurt him the way I’d hurt Shepherd? At that moment, I could have.

But Balthazar said something that banished all my thoughts of revenge. “You’re going to need help with what comes next.”

At first I could hardly speak. I knew he was telling the truth—I’d known the rules since before I ever met Lucas—but in my anguish, I hadn’t yet considered what would happen next. It seemed too terrible to face. “Not that.”

“You know how it works, Bianca.”

“Don’t lecture me!” I shouted at Balthazar. “You don’t understand. This is the last thing Lucas ever wanted. Ever. He would have chosen death over this. It’s—it’s his worst nightmare.”

“Wait,” croaked Vic. His cheeks shone with tears. “Chosen death—I thought you said Lucas was dead. He’s not? We can still help him?”

I embraced Lucas’s body tightly. I’m sorry, Lucas. I’m so sorry. The one thing I should have protected you from, beyond anything else, and I failed.