Then he released Cynthiana. By the time he strolled to the front of the pole, his thunderous expression had changed to a charming smile and that lava flow of rage to a glacier of determination.

"Tell me about how you conspired with Mihaly Szilagyi, and you can start with how the hell he managed to survive that explosion."

"I think I know the answer," I said, staring at Cynthiana without pity. "Burn something on her."

Both her legs went up in flames. She screamed, thrashing in her restraints. Shrapnel began to yell, too, pleading with Vlad to stop. He didn't until everything from her thighs down was covered in charred, blackened flesh.

As I watched Cynthiana start to heal with only the regular abilities that all vampires had, the final piece of the puzzle fell into place.

"You didn't work that fireproofing spell for yourself. You did it for Mihaly Szilagyi, the only vampire who was both as strong as Vlad and as committed to hurting him as you were."

My gaze swung back to Vlad. "That's why he didn't hesitate to set off that explosion when you had him trapped on the mountain. He knew if you found him there, the only way he'd get out alive was if you thought he was dead. Just like he did centuries ago."

"The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist," Vlad murmured, sounding like he was quoting from memory.

Then he smiled at Cynthiana. "Now, dearie," he said in his most genial tone. "You're going to tell me where he is."