I woke with a start and found myself once more on the floor of the grimy cell. The electric lights had been killed, but thin streamers of sunlight pierced the covering of the far window. My parents and I were in the dead center of the script laid to catch Darius, huddled together for what vestiges of warmth we could find.

I held my left hand aloft. It was whole and unblemished, my nails perfectly blunt and pale. What was that...?

Luc was on his back, breathing deeply in sleep, while Eleanor sat ram-rod straight, staring at the distant stairwell. In her fair hands was a rock-hard bagel she was tearing into crumbs.

"Mom...." I croaked as I sat up, causing the dried blood on my face to crack and crinkle in unpleasant ways. Eleanor turned, her eyes wide with fear, then blinked and muttered a quiet oath as she helped me up.

"Oh thank God, you're awake."

I swallowed the dry ache in my throat as I looked at my mother. She was drawn and pale, the lines of her makeup smeared in the hollows of her eyes and her neck marked with healing bruises. Her brown hair, normally so sleek and maintained, was a tangled mess. The chill tinged her fingers and nose a deep red.

Luc was still asleep. His breathing was deep and regular, and each puff of air that escaped his lungs came out in a white cloud. The side of his mouth was cut and swollen, as was his injured cheek. Black flecks of blood dotted the front of his cable-knit sweater.

Before I could speak, Eleanor held a finger to her lips. "Speak softly," she murmured, eyes darting toward the room beyond our sectioned off cell. "Those...things...are s-sleeping."

Her words stuttered from cold, not fear. I searched the shadows of the cluttered room and eventually found the two vampires bunched for warmth just out of sight. Only their feet and part of his legs were visible.

"T-that monster...." Eleanor gulped as the dried husk of a bagel disintegrated between her hands. "He was angry after you p-passed out, but something was w-wrong with him. He began to s-scream and...disappeared. H-he hasn't been back in hours."

I didn't tell her there was a lot wrong with Sethan, that he was utterly insane in the worst possible way. I studied what I could see of the sleeping vampires for any sign of movement, but they were utterly still and hidden from any possible stray sunbeams managing to breach the window's shade. Though the sunlight was visible, it was numerous degrees below freezing.

"Sara, what is going on?" Eleanor demanded as I turned my gaze back to her. "What does that m-man want from you? From us?"

"It's a long story." I rose and was relieved to find no lasting injuries. Sethan must have healed them all before vanishing for fear of my dying early. I laid my fingers on the cell door and felt the slight give of the hinges swinging until the lock caught. The enclosure was painted with old claw marks and dents, so I wagered the door was stronger than it appeared if he had held wilder creatures than us. Besides, one kick at the lock would bring the vampires down upon us.

"Well?" Eleanor snapped, a wisp of her imperious tone surfacing. "It's not like I've somewhere e-else to go."

I closed my eyes and concentrated. Darius's shade rose to attention like a wolf intuiting its prey's approach. It lay in a nebulous veil of smoke above the gurgling creek of my soul's energy. Every small channel those meandering waters carved through my being were highlighted in my inner eye. 

Being torn so forcibly from my own mind only to be dropped back inside it was disconcerting and had unintentionally given me a new perspective to my own soul, like a driver getting resituated behind the wheel. Everything was the same, but I was more attentive. I recognized the magic in a way I never had before, as though it had always been there I'd just been too blind to see it.

The sensation was strange but welcomed. I'd feared the shade would leave lasting damage in my mind. 

"He's a demon," Luc croaked, voice roughened by exhaustion and thirst. Surprised, both Eleanor and I went to help him sit up. He shooed us away as he patted his injured face and cast a wary eye around the cell. "You could say he's a king among demons. He and his kind are called Sins."

"What?!" Eleanor stifled her outrage and confusion when one of the vampires sighed in his or her sleep. She looked from me to Luc, her sharp eyes seeming to gouge through ours. "Tell me what is going on. Now, Luc."

Papa only gazed at me. His patient expression was one I'd seen many times throughout my childhood.

For a second, I was ten years younger and back in San Barkett. I was in trouble for skipping school, sitting between my parents in their living room. Eleanor had the same intractable glare while Luc looked just as he did now. Patient. Like he was waiting for me to grow up, and would keep waiting even when I failed to do so.

That patience could quickly assume the mantel of neglect when he refused the guidance I needed with such unending desperation.

I fell to my knees as my shoulders slumped. "He wants me to summon his brother, so he can kill him. He...I have a...a contract with him. With the brother."

Understanding darkened Luc's gaze. "Why?"

I stared at the floor, at a loss for words. Again and again, I catalogued those welded runes in search of a weakness in the script's composition. I couldn't find one. I simply didn't know enough about the magic wending through the ground beneath us. I didn't know enough about the magic in my own veins.

"Late in August," I breathed, detaching myself from the words as if they held no meaning to me. "It happened in late August. Tara and I were kidnapped by a cult that calls itself the Exordium Insaniam. They were hired by Rick to kill Tara, but they had their own agenda. They sought to summon the Sin of Envy to do their bidding and wreak havoc upon a competing corporation that had cut into their bottom line. Tara and I were sacrificed. Had the Sin of Pride not come upon me...I would be dead. Like Tara."

I couldn't look at their faces. Minutes of dead silence creeped by as I read the runes. Bind. Imprison. Sunder. Break.

Eleanor's slap broke against my cheek with untethered ferocity. The sound resounded in the quiet bunker and stirred the vampires, but they didn't rise. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes as blood rushed to my stinging face.

"Eleanor!"

"You lied!" my mother hissed as her thin body trembled with her ire. "Every time I called and sensed something was a-amiss, you lied! How could you lie to us? How c-could you let us go on thinking she was fine? That you were fine? How could you not tell us—?!"

I thought she would hit me again. I was prepared to accept a barrage of blows without uttering a single word. I deserved every strike. Rick had been the one to sell Tara's life, but I had been the one to lead her into that dark alleyway. I had been the unwitting bait. I'd failed my sister when she needed me most.

My mother's hand twisted into the front of my shirt's collar and I sucked in a breath, waiting for the blow, but it didn't come. She wrenched me forward from my knees and I fell into her embrace. Eleanor squeezed as if nothing could pry her arms from about my scrawny middle and silently sobbed into my shoulder.

"What did you promise him?" Luc demanded. "What did you promise the demon in your contract?"

I met his stare and said nothing as I held my mother. The effort to keep her sorrow silent could be felt in the sharp rise and fall of her lungs and shoulders.

The sunlight was fading from the dusty, shuttered window. The vibrant lines of yellow light spilt upon the lab's floor were disappearing as clouds stole across the sky outside. Tears glistened in Luc's blue eyes before we were all engulfed in the coming dark.

He knew exactly what I'd promised Darius.

We didn't indulge in sadness for long. Sethan would arrive in time, and his presence would be hastened by the vampires if they woke and saw I had recovered. I feared what horror he'd unleash next and knew I wouldn't survive. I had to free my family now.

Luc knew more of the runes than I did. Though I wanted to ask how, to ask why he'd kept his identity—our identity hidden, I resisted the urge to interrogate him. That wasn't a discussion he and I could share in the bowels of Sethan's lair. I doubted we'd ever have the opportunity to speak again after this, but needed to concentrate on escape. I didn't ask him questions.

"These runes here," he murmured as he eased about the circle's perimeter with surprising dexterity. Eleanor remained sitting in the script's middle, watching those sleeping vampires with her hawk-like attention. Luc pointed to three mystifying symbols. "Are like a signature. They seal the script against any nullifications aside from those initiated by the original scribe. Nothing short of his word or his death will break it."

"That mage is probably on the other side of the earth," I grumbled as I paced the cell. Pressing myself against the freezing wall, I could stand outside the script's lines with six or seven inches of leeway. If I summoned Darius, it was possible he wouldn't be called right into the trap, but that possibility was quite slim. Calling Pride forth anywhere near the script was dangerous knowing Sethan would do whatever it took to force him into it.

"Why doesn't this demon call his own brother?" Eleanor asked, speaking so quietly I almost missed her words. "Why doesn't he use a phone or send a goddamn letter?"

"Wrath would lose his edge, and his plan would be ruined," I replied, scrooching about the far edge of the script in an attempt to find a viable area. "Darius could find...allies. He'd have time to strategize, and he obviously wouldn't be ensnared by the script."

Eleanor sighed in dismay.

"Would it be possible to banish him?" I asked my father. He had once tried to send Amoroth back to the Realm, and her extreme reaction had led me to believe Luc had a true banishing spell. I chose not to mention that particular encounter in front of my mother. I was disappointed when Luc shook his head.

"No. We would accomplish nothing aside from getting his attention. A creature like Wrath is far beyond my—or your—skill."

Frustrated, Eleanor waved at the script. "Then we get this monster into the script. We trick him into! He's obviously deranged. It shouldn't be too difficult."

It would be difficult, though. Mad as he was, Sethan wouldn't take a step into his own device. Life was never so convenient, and I wasn't naïve enough to think it was.

Luc muttered something in French as he eased into a crouch. Unbeknownst to Eleanor, he sent a trill of energy into the script, searching for weaknesses. The wilder nature of Luc's magic was repelled by the arcane quality of the scribe's runes. To my surprise, Eleanor knew Luc had a touch of...something else to his blood, but she knew absolutely nothing else about the otherworld. She didn't even know Luc was "Vytian" or that vampires were real.

"Honestly, I thought this was about my grandfather," he breathed as he scrubbed the magic's static from his fingertips. "About his profession."

I didn't ask. I couldn't allow myself to be distracted, though I yearned to ask who his grandfather had been, what profession he meant, how he knew so much magic, and how he'd allowed Tara and me to languish in ignorance for so long. I had to free us first. I had to escape Sethan before he tried to break me again.

Cool air brushed my face and brought with it the scent of old evergreens and wet earth. My gaze was yanked to the far stairs, but they were yet dark and vacant. Sethan hadn't returned. Both vampires were still curled behind the boxes, hiding from the sunlight that had abandoned the blocked window.

I again felt that errant breeze upon my face and came to a halt.

In hushed conversation, my parents and I had decided we were most likely in some kind of remote station or bunker. The floors were comprised of concrete and all the walls were done in uniform cinderblocks. Overhead, the rotting rafters were left exposed and bare of insulation, though the electric lines were clearly a new addition.

The concrete shone white like fresh scars where it had been chipped up to accommodate the soldered script. The bars weren't new—judging by the bleeding rust stains marring their joints—but they weren't original to the building's structure.

Among the crates and boxes of Sethan's possessions I had noted the presence of several old, rustic buckets and had wondered why in the world he had so many; then I noted the striations in the aged concrete's stains. They were difficult to decipher without light, but I knew they arched from where the dead vampire lay decaying toward our cell.

Sethan had used this lab in the past. He had said so himself when he mentioned its casual state of disrepair. Conceivably, the Sin would have needed to wash the lab after completing whatever ghastly experiment he'd been indulging in. In an era before hoses and running water, he would have had used the buckets to rinse the space, and water would have run through our cell to....a drain.

Finding the grate was more difficult than it should have been due to the grime and shadows, but my blind patting finally uncovered what I had initially thought was another section of the metal circle. Hovering over it, the inexplicable touch of cold, fresh air was slithering through the corroded slats.

"Papa!" I whispered with urgency as I wiggled my fingers into the grate. He crawled over to where I knelt, his brow raised in question. "Put your hand over this."

He did so, and a feral gleam appeared in his tired eyes when he felt the same draft I did. "The covering isn't original to the space, but the drain is. It doesn't use a pump; it must open somewhere outside."

The grate was screwed into place, but Luc knew a minimal construct that pulled the screws free. It took both of us to lift and wrench the oxidized grate out of place, and it came loose with a loud screech. All three of us held our breath and waited for the vampires to investigate, but they continued to sleep.

In terms of drain openings, it was fairly large. I wagered Sethan needed the bigger drain to wash out more obscene things than just bloody water—but the opening was barely two feet by one foot wide. Luc and I just stared at the inky, inviting dark beyond.

"Well?" Eleanor breathed. She continued to observe our inattentive guards. "Where does it go?"

"I don't know," Luc replied. My father leaned over the opened hole and dipped his arm inside. Almost his entire arm disappeared before he withdrew it, rank water dripping from the sodden, torn cuff of his sleeve. "I don't know where it goes, but it's large enough for one of us to crawl through."

My parents glanced at each, then turned to me.

Neither Luc nor Eleanor were large people. In fact, both were tall and sylphlike, though Luc had become a bit softer about the middle in recent years. Though both were slim and narrow, Luc's shoulders were too broad to fit through the opening. Eleanor's hips were too wide.

I again peered into the waiting dark and smelt the fresh air and the heavier smell of old salt. The thinnest strain of fear began to wheedle its way through my veins before I quashed it with a deep, uneven breath.

Both of my parents were aware of my aversion to small, tight spaces—though Eleanor had always attributed it to teenaged theatrics and Luc had simply stated it was something I would grow out of. I never did. Luc and Eleanor were staring at me with silent, pleading expressions on their faces.

Resignation sat upon my shoulders with a physical weight. One of us has to crawl through.

We didn't have long. The vampires were bound to stir soon, and Sethan's return was an ominous inevitability.

"I understand," I whispered. "Whatever happens...just stay in the script. Stay until...it's safe. Afterward, don't go home. Go somewhere else, somewhere where they won't look for you."

If I could put some distance between myself and Sethan's lab, I could summon Darius. I had to get far enough away to mitigate the chance of any mishaps. If Sethan arrived, he'd do everything is his damnable power to force Darius into the script. I'd seen what the Sins were capable of. A few walls weren't going to be deterrent enough.

Luc's gaze widened, then faltered, his dark lashes wavering over his light eyes. My mother moved to take my arm and didn't look away. The desire to speak was conveyed in the severity of her grasp and in the strength of her reddened fingers. I simpered and gently pried myself free.

"I'm sorry about this," I told them. "I'm sorry you got involved."

"You should have involved us from the beginning," Luc murmured. "You shouldn't have carried this burden alone."

A sound of disbelief left me in a quiet snort. "I was never alone."

I would have preferred lowering my feet into the drain first, but I wouldn't have the room to reposition myself if I did so. Reaching into the dark, my arms were too short to reach the bottom, so Luc had to hold on to my legs as I squirmed through the slender opening.

My hands touched the bottom and sunk into an inch of muck and freezing water. Luc released me and I slid forward, gritting my teeth against the sudden drop. My stomach hit the water with a splash that was followed by the thump of my legs falling in afterward.

I instantly wanted to leave. Irrational as it was, my mind rebelled and desired nothing more than to sit in the cell waiting for Sethan rather than face the narrow tunnel dug through the earth. The sides and ceiling were all comprised of rough, unfinished concrete while the floor was spongy, as if years of exposure to acidic liquid had eaten away at the stone.

Not a glimmer of light waited ahead, though I could still feel the barest breath of a clean breeze rippling over the stagnate water. There was only enough space for me to crawl upon my belly. The width couldn't accommodate my shoulders and hips, so when I began to move, I had to wedge myself in at an angle with my arms stretched ahead.

Not good, I thought as I propelled myself forward with my feet and used my elbows for leverage. Every breath rebounded on the water's surface and pressed my back into the ceiling. Dark. All I could see was darkness and all I could smell was that rancid odor of old death. All I could feel was the freezing black water slithering against my front.

Not good at all.

Only the thought of Eleanor and Luc waiting in that cell to die by the hands of Darius's mad brother kept me moving. I counted each inhalation in sets of five and concentrated on the intermittent bursts of wind touching my damp face. The chill of it burned my eyes, but I refused to close them.

Time passed. It could have been seconds or hours. All I knew was the crushing sensation stealing air from my lips. Every inhalation was thinner and thinner as my fingers scrabbled over the porous stone and the greasy water rose to my chin. My lungs heaved and struck the ceiling with the effort to simply breathe. Exhaling was painful.

"God dammit," I whispered, choking when the disgusting droplets splattered into my mouth. There was light ahead—or so I imagined. I couldn't crane my neck in the proper direction without jamming my shoulders. My feet scrabbled for purchase and slipped. Again I tried to shove myself forward, and again I failed. My shoes were too encrusted with the slick slime gathered in the drain's belly.

Stunned, I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to stop myself from hyperventilating.

No way forward. No way back. Trapped.

"I find it ironic you can stand against murderous madmen and unhinged creatures without a whisper of fear touching your heart," Pride's voice mocked from the shadows. I remembered the strength of his hand upon my wrist, his otherworldly heat infusing my cold limbs. "And yet you're afraid of small spaces."

"Not afraid," I gasped as I threw all my strength into my arms and managed to inch closer to my destination. My feet caught on the uneven grooves carved into the drain's side and shoved. I surged forward with my eyes shut and breath held, ignoring the splash of water against my face and the raw scrapes opening on my knees. "Not afraid!"

I could do this. I had to believe I could do this. I'd failed Tara, but I wouldn't fail Eleanor and Luc—or Darius. Whatever obstacle, whatever hindrance or limitation dared weigh me down, I would not fail. I'd struggled too long and too viciously to falter now. I'd come too close to my goal to fail.

My numb fingers collided with something solid. Panting, I fumbled at the obstruction as my eyes popped open.

Diluted daylight trickled through iron bars. Flecks of white snow swirled in the grungy water.

I struggled with the second grate. My wet hands stuck to the frozen metal and prying them free was painful, but I endeavored on, using what remained of my strength to rattle and shake and pound at the barrier until—with a screech of untended hinges—the grate popped open and I rushed forth.

Before I could take a breath, I slid upon an iced embankment and rolled to the base of a short hill. I came crashing to a stop at the bottom and pain lanced through my wounded side—but I sucked in lungful after lungful of the precious, cold air until I was dizzy with relief.

Out. I'm out.

The shabby, outdated bunker resided upon the hill behind me. It was partially buried into the earth, hunkered down like a wild bear bracing itself against the winter winds. Evergreen trees dusted in white crowded the hillside and crawled up the slope of a mountain. Aside from the bunker, there was nothing else to see. No path. No other structures. Nothing but a crooked, whirring windmill providing the bunker with its electricity.

The clouds overhead smothered the sun in a grey veil and tossed irregular curtains of snow into the breeze.

Can't summon Darius. Not yet. Have to get far enough away. I used a busted stump for leverage and got to my feet. The strong wind rolled through me like an icy tide. I just need to get enough space between Darius and that horrid trap.

That same wind cooling my bones caught the open grate—and slammed it shut.

The clash of metal on stone rang throughout the forest and bounced upon every tree.

A startled shout chased the clash and was followed by the rapid pound of footsteps. The two vampires appeared upon the hilltop where the bunker's steps rose toward the sky. They spotted me below.

"How did she get out?!"

I ran.

My muscles trembled with exhaustion, my throat burned with thirst, and my side ached, but I ran. The vampires followed with aghast cries of outrage, their footsteps thundering upon the hard earth of the hill as I delved into the tree line. My own footsteps were quieter, marked by nothing but the sharp snap of old, dead twigs, but I wasn't going to outrace the fanged creatures. I was simply too slow.

The trees whipped by as I charged through the undergrowth, wending through the less dense brush as I used the downward slope to drive myself forward. Twice I slid on the dead winter leaves and twice I caught myself on a convenient trunk.

Not yet. Not yet.

The pines and firs were thinning, and the ground was leveling underfoot. The male vampire was almost upon me, his face savage with the thrill of a chase.

I came upon a modest clearing where fire or flood had broken the trees down to the roots, leaving the area clear but for a thin covering of sticky snow. If I could just make it to the other side....

Above, against the slate colored sky, a great bird was circling. I wouldn't have noted it if not for the creature's size and its proximity. Its feathered wings were so large I could hear the thump of each downward beat. As soon as I burst from the woods into the clearing, the bird angled itself into a steep dive. I ran on with ragged breaths as the male vampire closed in.

Mint-tinged energy surged through the clearing before the bird struck the earth. Its shape changed in an instant as its plumage and wings pulled back to reveal a slimly built, wiry man of intermediate height with a head of untamed, fiery hair. His ears were shaped like well-honed knives and the smile on his thin face was brimming with savage delight.

I recognized those gold, cat-like eyes.

Lionel.

The man disappeared into the physiognomy of the beast. The woman vampire shrieked with fear, but the male vampire didn't. He was close enough for his blood-stained hands to skirt the ends of my hair. He didn't notice the Druid until the tiger was closing its jaws on the creature's throat.

Screams rose through the trees and set let loose a plume of dark-feathered birds.

The clearing's edge was near. I was almost—

The Sin of Wrath stepped from the shadow of the opposing trees with his gaze fixed upon me. I slid to a halt with my heart pounding as Sethan strolled into the clearing.

"A valiant effort," Wrath stated, his voice as calm as unrumpled silk. The vampire stopped screaming with a final gurgle and a thud. "I should have bound the three of you before departing. I underestimated your resourcefulness. Regardless, it isn't a mistake I will make twice. If you won't be persuaded by pain, then I can be far more...creative."

I didn't have to coerce the fear to rise inside me. It came with ready attention. Terror issued forth from every inch of my body and ran like the blood in my veins as the Sin of Wrath took one solitary step forward.

No. Not again—!

The birds streaming through the air stopped cawing. Silence infiltrated the clearing like a skilled assassin as Sethan paused, his scarlet eyes widening with alarm. "You wretched mortal...."

Heat lifted from the earth. The snow hissed and melted as black flames tore through the fabric of this realm's existence and curled to reveal the Sin of Pride. Tendrils of smoke clung to his face and shoulders, dispersing into the winter wind.

Darius exhaled as his voice broke the quiet. "About time."