Ouch. That must have hurt.

Hand on her wounded throat, the redhead hissed. "You're going to regret that, lowborn bitch."

It was the first time she talked, and it sounded wrong. Out of character. Too sweet and innocent.

Now that she paid attention, Avani noticed it wasn't a woman at all. She looked…young. In her early twenties, if that.

She knew better than to let it sway her. The woman was thousands of years old; her physical age didn't matter, her past didn't matter. Sure, her life might have sucked, but right now, she was trying to hurt them. That made her the enemy, full stop.

Starting to understand she was outmatched, the queen turned to hiss an order.

"Go for the witch," she told her mutts.

Fuck.

Greer.

Where was she now?

Queens

Dammit. She'd never been one for outdoor sports, so trekking up a hill in the rain? Not her idea of a good time. Maybe she should buy some hiking boots.

Greer pouted at the notion. She liked her boots to be pretty, or at the very least, badass. Maybe she should cave and ask Blair where she got hers. That witch had style.

She walked as fast as her feet could carry her, which wasn't very fast, while maintaining an invisibility field and masking her scent as well as her aura. Her energy was draining by the minute.

Greer seriously questioned her choice to concentrate on charms and spells. Maybe she didn't have a great disposition for fighting, but she should at least take on some cardio exercise to have better endurance. It wasn't like attacks were that rare around here. And for better or worse, Oldcrest was her home.

Part of her wished she could be down in the valley between the lake and Night Hill with the rest of her friends, though she knew why Avani had sent her away. Making sure that she remained safe was protecting her friends. She wasn't a sword, a hammer, or even a spell. She was Oldcrest's greatest shield.

Maybe it was strange that as soon as she'd heard she should get to safety, she'd thought of one place. Not the Institute, despite the wards. Not Night Hill, though it was guarded by a troll. Here. Cosnoc. The cave in the belly of the mountain.

It was smart, she told herself. People abhorred getting anywhere near the caves; the spells put in place by her ancestors held strong, keeping intruders at bay. And Eirikr, the monster locked inside, might hate and despise her, but he was sworn to help her. At least, make sure she stayed alive. Going to him made sense, if only because the queen wouldn't expect it. Greer bet she'd sent the wolves hunting her elsewhere.

She'd just cheered herself up with that notion when she heard a growl, and turned to face three oversized wolves, all nose to the ground, sniffing her out.

Shit. She wasn't that smart, after all.

She couldn't stay here. Invisibility spells only worked when people didn't actually know she was here. But if she moved, she might make a sound or betray her location otherwise. She looked around. The cave was at least a mile away. What were her chances of getting there on time?

Her heart beat so freaking fast. Could they hear it? Maybe. As much as she'd studied all of the spells she used, she just couldn't remember whether that specific one masked sound, too.

"Come to me. Now."

She knew that deep, low voice. Its strange accent. It shouldn't have reached her here. Maybe she was imagining things. Right?

"You can hear me because you're in danger. I can't come out yet. Not until you're hurt. Come to me. I may not make it in time."

Oh, that made sense. Somehow. Only, why was he talking in her mind at all? It certainly had never happened before.

"Focus."

"I don't know if I can make it. They might hear me. Sense me."

"You'll be faster."

She would have snorted if she could. The dude obviously didn't know her very well, if he thought she could outrun werewolves.

"You'll be faster with me."

That made no freaking sense.

Didn't it?

Now that she focused, something had changed around her. Inside her. There was…something else. He was there, lending her his strength.

She bit her lip. She had to do this. She had to; if not for her, for her friends. If she was hurt here, all they loved and believed in would be lost. The Institute, Night Hill. Even the idiotic wolves who'd joined the queen stood to lose if their world became known to the mortals around them.

She stopped questioning herself, and started to run.

She was fast.

Very fast.

And best of all, she wasn't actually hurting herself—not anymore. In fact, running felt good. Euphoric. She was so freaking strong she suspected she could punch through a wall and it'd just collapse, like they did in movies.

Far away, she could hear the wolves in pursuit, following her scent or her noise. It didn't matter. She was already in the cave, the safest place on Earth.

"Why, hello there," purred the monster who lived there, right behind her.

Chloe had never been so enraged. Not back in NOLA when she'd been assaulted by bounty hunters. Not on Cosnoc, that night she'd actually died—the mortal part of her, in any case. Not when the Stormhales had tried to attack Oldcrest at the end of the summer.

Everything, from the very beginning, had been because of that woman and her daddy issues.

She was not going to let some voodoo Barbie asshole hurt the people she loved. She cried before punching, kicking, slapping, slicing, biting her way to the "queen," ignoring all of the hits she took, all of the wounds she received. If it didn't kill her, it would heal. Pain was irrelevant.

"Eirikrson!" Levi's slayer shouted.

She only had moments to greet Sylvan, but he'd mostly been silent and observant, the sort of man who unsettled her. Now, she turned to him and found him holding on to one of the two swords at his side; one was almost identical to the old, beautiful blade Levi had gifted to Catherine a while back. He'd been fighting with it since his arrival.

The one he held was shorter, and Chloe could tell, more modern. Easier to use, no doubt. Unexpectedly, he turned it over, grabbing it by the blade, and threw it at her, hilt forward.

Chloe caught it midair.

The instant it was in her grasp, she felt like it belonged with her. It was the right weight, better than any of the practice swords she'd sparred with when Cat had endeavored to teach her swordplay.

There was something special about it, something that resonated with her.

As a vampire, she had a lot more energy than she did before, but fighting the queen was taking its toll. The woman was relentless, ridiculously powerful. She'd started to lose some energy.

Now, her reserves were rekindled, amplified. It had to do with the sword, she was sure of it.

It wasn't the time to wonder at it. Instead, she attacked, yelling as she struck. She had a moment to see the queen's eyes widen before she stopped it with both hands. Blood fell down the blade. Purple blood. Like hers.

Chloe gasped. It wasn't the first time she’d inflicted a wound, but she hadn't noticed it before.

Whatever that queen was…it was the same thing as Chloe. If it had been anyone else in the world, she would have had a thousand questions. The only thing that mattered was killing that woman, though.

She drew the sword back and prepared to attack again; the queen's eyes remained on Chloe, as Levi, Cat, Ruby, Blair, and Avani and Alexius in wolf forms—what was that about anyway?—all circled her, while the rest of their group was hunting the wolves in search of Greer.

Then she grinned, lifted her arms, and a wave of black mist engulfed her as she shouted in Latin.

"That can't be good," Ruby said.

"Someone shut her up before she's done!" Blair shouted. "She's…"

Moments later, it was obvious what she was doing.

Summoning the dead.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

The dozens of fallen werewolves twitched on the ground before lurching to their feet.

Dammit.

At least forty zombies. They'd had trouble with one, last time.

"Fire!" Levi said. "We need fire."

His power was water; Chloe could feel his frustration.

"Would lightning do?" Cat suggested.

"It's worth a try."

She leaped out of the way of the queen, rolled to a crouch, and called to her elements, eyes closed. Meanwhile, Chloe concentrated on the important thing: kicking the bitch's ass.

She yelled as she leaped and thrust her sword forward, aiming for the heart. The queen blocked the attack, but winced at the impact, though she managed to catch Chloe by the throat. Then she went for the sword.

With everything in her, Chloe knew she couldn't relinquish it. It was hers. Hers.

"This is mine," she snarled, baring her teeth like a savage and twisting her head to bite the queen's hand.

She grinned when the enemy retreated. Two feet away, the queen paced around her.

They were alone now; her friends and mate were focusing on the zombies, preventing them from spreading to Adairford, the dorm, and the Institute.

They'd understood something that Chloe just realized.

She had this. This fight was hers. Unlike everyone else, who wasn't quite matched against her…Chloe could take the queen.

And the queen had begun to understand it, too. Unless she was much mistaken, there was fear in her eyes.

Chloe started to pace.

"Just like the hill. Just like Skyhall. Just like Eirikr. My father." He might not have been the man who'd fathered her, but he called her daughter, and he treated her as such. "They're all mine."

The queen yelled and jumped her, enraged.

Rage was useful to Chloe. It increased strength and speed; also stupidity.

As the queen went straight for her, Chloe grinned. The redhead seized her by the throat. Chloe let her. And when she was right there, she thrust her sword into her stomach, deep through her belly, smiling at her.

They were the same height. They even smelled similar.

The one true difference between them was their hearts.

The queen leaped backward, curling down in pain, hand over her belly. She looked around. Chloe grinned at her.