I didn’t ask, just fol owed her up the stairs to the second floor, where she led me into a large bedroom. There, in a cushioned bed under a flowered comforter, rested Janet. Her eyes were wandering, but when she saw me she startled and tried to sit up.

Glancing at Sassy, I mouthed, The tumor?

Sassy nodded, then, pressing her hand to her mouth, left the room. I turned back to Janet.

Inoperable, the brain tumor had been diagnosed six months ago. Erin was right. Time had final y caught up with Janet and was rapidly running out.

Gently, I sat on the side of the bed and took one of Janet’s hands. “Hey, Janet . . . so . . .”

She focused on me, though I could tel it was taking her some work to do so. “Miss Menol y. I’m sorry I couldn’t be downstairs to greet you . . .”

“Hush.” I patted her hand. “Don’t worry about that. Erin told me you were sick.” As I sought for something comforting to say, Janet clutched my fingers.

“Promise me something . . .”

“If I can, of course. What is it?”

She held tight to my hand and in a fevered plea, she begged, “Don’t let her turn me. She’s been in here the past few nights, talking about bringing me over. I don’t want that. I’m an old, sick woman and I’ve lived a good life. I don’t want to become . . .” Her voice trailed off and she winced.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t want to be one of you.”

I let out a smal laugh. “Oh, Janet—I didn’t want to be a vampire, either. I don’t think many of us choose the life. But yes, I promise you—I won’t let her turn you. You say she’s been talking about it?”

“Too much. She always promised me she wouldn’t, but Miss Menol y, Miss Sassy’s not herself.

I’m afraid of her now. I don’t want to die in fear.” Janet was weeping, and I noticed one eye dilated larger than the other. The tumor real y had caught up to her.

“Did you drink any of her blood?”

“No,” Janet said. “She offered, but I refused.”

“Then you wil go to your ancestors unharmed. Rest, now. I’m here to make things better. I can’t save you, Janet, but I’l save you from becoming one of the undead. And I’l make sure Sassy’s taken care of. I promised her six months ago that I would. And now . . . I’ve come to fulfil that promise.”

As she slowly let go of my hand, Janet shuddered. “Thank you. You’re one of the good ones, Miss Menol y. You’re one of the rare ones.” And then she let out a long breath, shuddered, and her head fel to the side. I closed her eyes, gently, and examined her for bite marks to make sure Sassy hadn’t already started the process. I was furious when I found numerous punctures—al fresh—on Janet’s chest and wrists, but if she hadn’t drunk Sassy’s blood, she wouldn’t turn into a vampire.

“Poor woman, you were betrayed in the end by the one you cared for al of your life. Sassy, how could you . . .” Whispering, I rearranged Janet’s covers and pul ed out a couple coins from my pocket, laying them on her eyes, and then kissed her forehead. “For the boatman. Easy journeys, Janet. Go to your ancestors and be at peace.”

As I left the room, I glanced back at Janet’s body one last time. Another reason why I had to complete my promise. Another sign that Sassy Branson had freed her inner predator and was losing al sense of reason. She’d loved Janet, had promised time and again she’d never sire another vampire, and yet Janet bore the scars of Sassy’s fangs. Yet, she had not given in. In the face of death, she’d chosen to sleep. As I headed down the stairs, I steeled myself for the coming battle.

CHAPTER 10

Sassy was waiting for me in the foyer. She gave me a curious look.

“Janet’s dead. She’s with her ancestors now, at peace.”

“Damn you! You let her die without cal ing me. You didn’t give me a chance.” Sassy let out a snarl.

Struggling to take in the changes that had happened to my friend, I crossed my arms and faced her down. “Janet went quietly, just as she wanted to. Thank the gods—and I never thank them lightly.” Frustrated, I held out my hands. “How could you bite her, after al these years? How dare you bite her? She was helpless and couldn’t fight back. You know she didn’t want to be a vampire, but still you drank her blood. Janet was your best friend, your staunchest al y al through your life, and you betrayed her at the end. You made her afraid of you!”

A flash and I saw the old Sassy peering at me through the reddened eyes. “Oh, Menol y. Oh my God, what did I do? No, my sweet, poor Janet. Is she . . . I didn’t . . .”

“No, you didn’t force her to drink. But you drank from her when she was at her most vulnerable.

Oh, Sassy, you’re slipping. Erin told me about the girl. What have you become? ” I didn’t have much truck with the gods—they’d never done much for me—but I prayed. To the Moon Mother, to Bast, asking them for the same strength they gave my sisters.

“I hurt her . . . didn’t I?” Remorse fil ed the elderly woman’s face and she covered her eyes with her hands, bloody tears streaking down her cheeks onto the Chanel suit. The old Sassy would never have al owed such an expensive faux pas, but this Sassy didn’t even notice.

“You made me promise you something . . . six months ago, you forced me to promise you that I’d stop you from becoming one of the monsters you hate.” I spoke softly, in an attempt not to spook her.

Sassy lowered her hands, staring at me. “I’m not ready. I’m not ready . . . but . . .” Helplessly, she glanced at the stairs, looking up toward Janet’s room. “I hurt my best friend, my oldest friend . . .”

“You’re slipping into your predator, Sassy. Pretty soon you won’t care that you hurt people. It’s not easy to control, and you don’t seem to have the ability to contain or channel the hunger.” I watched her face as it convulsed from remorse to anger.

She slowly began to circle me, studying my face, her expression slipping into an ugly cunning.

“Suppose I’ve changed my mind? You took Erin away from me, didn’t you? You don’t want her with me.”

“Not when you’re like this. She doesn’t love you the way you thought. She saw you with that girl.”

“She does too love me!” Sassy blinked. “Why didn’t she join me?” A low hiss escaped her throat. “I wanted her there.”

“Yeah, I’l bet you did. But it’s not going to happen. Erin isn’t like you, Sassy. She’d rather learn to control her instincts. I thought you could help her, but you’ve lost your way. And I don’t think you can find the path back.”

Sassy tilted her head to the side, eyeing me like an owl might eye its prey. Her fangs were down and her eyes were bloodred. On one level, she looked like my old friend, but when I stood back, distance al owed me to see her as she had become: a traitor to friends, betraying even her beloved Janet.

I knew then it was over. She was ready for a fight and she wasn’t going down easy. I glanced around the room. We were in close quarters. We’d trash the place, but I didn’t have time to quibble. Sassy was strong, but I had Dredge’s blood on my side, and my Fae heritage. Sassy, on the other hand, had the strength of being firmly in her predator.

“Bring it on, Fae-girl. Pretty little girl who has no qualms taking down the bad guys. Wel , let me tel you this: Most mortals are bad guys. Humans have trashed the planet and each other since the dawn of time, and I was no exception. Have you looked on the Internet lately, Red? Have you seen how much little boys and girls are going for—and not to the vamps. No, but to other humans.

Predators, al . Do you know you can buy a twelve-year-old to fuck and beat up in Thailand for five bucks, if that? Humans do that, Menol y, not the vampires.”

“I know the kind of scum that are out there.” I sidestepped to the left, mirroring her movements as we circled one another. “That doesn’t mean it’s okay to unleash our own predators—not without knowing who our targets are. We are far more powerful than most of the breathers. They can’t fight back against us.”

“Do I real y care? I spent so many nights repressing my urges, trying to believe in Wade’s cause. But now . . . it’s so simple. Al you have to do is let go, Menol y. Al you have to do is give in to the voice inside. This is what we are: Predators. Violent, vicious, predators. We are top of the food chain. We could own the world if we wanted to.”

And any glimpse of reason in her face was gone.

To win, I’d have to let go of Sassy as a friend. Of Sassy as the cultured, funny woman I remembered. I let the floodgates open, just a little, and welcomed my hunger. Sassy’s snarl spurred me on, and the image of who she was faded as she loomed large—my opponent, my enemy.

I let her make the first move. As she leaped toward me, I danced to the side and she came down hard, shaking the floor with her impact. I whirled to face her and my feet made contact, knocking her forward as I flipped over her head and came down, rebounding off her back. I landed in a crouch and immediately leaped to my feet and turned.

I’d knocked her back against a china cabinet and winced as delicate cups shattered, jarred by the impact.

Sassy snarled and raced headlong for me, head-butting me before I could duck out of the way. I landed against her sofa with an oomph, knocking it over. Somersaulting backward to my feet, I grabbed the nearest chair—an eighteenth-century reproduction—and smashed it over her head, immediately fol owing it up with a lamp off the nearby table.

She shook off the broken glass and grabbed the coat rack, aiming it like a spear. Crap, that would make the world’s biggest stake! I jumped out of the way as she sent it sailing through the air toward me. It went skidding into the wal , leaving a crack to slowly filter down the wal .

“I’m stick-a-fork-in-me done with this,” I whispered, pul ing out the stake from my boot. Racing for her, headlong, I realized I could run faster than she could, thanks to my Fae background. I skimmed over the furniture, lightly leaping from the back of a chair to a tabletop to the floor as she raced out of the room, fear in her face now.

She headed for the front door and I fol owed. The minute we were outside, she turned to the right and headed off toward the trees surrounding her house, and I sped up. The violent night was alive as the snow fel silently to the ground, burying it in a shroud of white.

I was gaining on her and, before I realized it, had caught up. Grabbing her by the arm, I whirled her around to face me. She snarled. My enemy. My friend. The mirror of what I could become.

“Oh Sassy, I’m so sorry. But I promised. You’d hate who you’ve become, if you were stil in there.” And even as she clawed at me, leaving one long scratch down my face, I brought the stake down on her heart, piercing the Chanel suit, piercing the flesh, driving it deep into her. What started as a bloodstain was fol owed in seconds by dust and ashes as she let out one long shriek and vanished before my eyes into a smal brown stain against the snow. I knelt beside the pile of ashes.

“What was life has crumbled. What was form, now fal s away. Mortal chains unbind and the soul is lifted free. May you find your way to the ancestors. May you find your path to the gods. May your bravery and courage be remembered in song and story. May your parents be proud, and may your children carry your birthright. Sleep, and wander no more.”

Our prayer for the dead. We’d had to say it far more than we ever wanted to the past year. But now Sassy was with her ancestors, and, hopeful y, her daughter, whom she’d mourned al these years. Tears slid down my cheeks, and I dashed them away. The Sassy I knew would have handed me one of her crimson handkerchiefs to dry my eyes and not make a mess on my clothing. The Sassy I knew would have. . .

“Thank you, Menol y . . .” The voice trailed on the wind as it crossed past me. I whirled to find myself facing a faint figure, translucent against the snow.

“What . . . Sassy?” She was there, large as life, but pale and misty. I noticed that her hair was a bril iant blond, and she looked younger. A little girl stood by her side, holding her hand, and on the girl’s other side, Janet—as a young woman, vibrant and smiling. The child had Sassy’s nose and eyes.

“Oh, Sassy . . . you found them both.”

Sassy tilted her head to the side. “Thank you,” she said again, her voice a whisper on the breeze. “I can go now. I can leave. And look—” She opened her mouth to smile. No fangs. The vampire within her was gone, destroyed by death.

Smiling through my tears, I pushed to my feet and raised my fingers to my lips, blowing her a kiss. She caught it, then slowly turned and, hand in hand with Janet and her little girl, walked away, vanishing into oblivion. Where she’d been standing lay a neatly folded linen handkerchief, crimson red, with a bloodred rose across it.

I picked both up, pressing the handkerchief to my lips. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, and tucked it in my pocket.

I silently returned to the house and tidied up, tossing the broken furniture. Then, flipping through the address book on her writing desk, I looked up the name of her lawyer. He knew she was a vampire, and—like most of us who kept property—she’d provided for the possibility of her being staked.

I put in a quick cal to him, fil ed him in on the circumstances, and asked him to see that Janet was given a decent burial, and if he would cal me when it was scheduled. It wasn’t against the law for a vampire to kil another vampire, so I had nothing to worry about concerning Sassy’s death.

Her name would be stricken from the vampire rosters the government kept, if she had registered, and that would be that.