I heard Monroe clap his hands behind me, his laughter ringing with satisfaction. In front of me, James was grinning, clearly pleased with the unexpected turn of events.

My gaze shifted to Eric, who, unnoticed by the two psychopaths distracted by their glee, shot me a burning look. He was still in the same position—kneeling, growling, the girl clutched in his arms. Now that I was closer, I could see the terror in her wide eyes and her lips pressed tightly together. Eric's fangs were fully extended, hovering dangerously over her neck. For the briefest moment, I thought I saw something flicker in his gaze, like he was trying to tell me something. But there was no time to decipher it.

For the love of God, leave the girl alone! I prayed, cursed, and pleaded silently as James grabbed the back of my neck. He forced me down to my knees, making me part of their twisted circle, and leaned in close enough for me to feel his cold breath brush against my cheek as he spoke. "I don't know what's going on here, Ash, but whatever it is, you better take a good look at what's at stake." He nodded toward the girl, tightening his grip on my neck.

"I don't know how you're doing it, but you're going to transfer your control over this vampire to me, right now." His voice dropped even lower, more menacing. "Or you'll end up just like that girl in his arms."

With those words, he shoved me forward, making me stumble. He lunged, aiming to rip the girl from Eric's grasp, but then everything happened at once. Eric broke free from his trance, surging forward to catch me, his hand clamping around my throat and yanking me back. He still held the girl in his other arm, his movements precise and deadly.

James's eyes widened so much it was a wonder they didn't pop out of his skull. Tom muttered, "Impossible," while Monroe sneered in disgust.

"One more move, and Ashley loses her head," Eric growled. His voice, low and calm, was far more terrifying than if he had shouted.

Tom and James froze, shock etched on their faces, but Monroe kept sauntering forward.

Eric's grip on my neck was so tight I knew his threat wasn't hollow. I started gasping, my throat constricting as he lifted me off the ground, my feet dangling helplessly. Monroe, however, remained unfazed. He had reached a small minibar, pouring himself a glass of dark red liquid. He took a slow sip, regarding us from a distance. I couldn't see Eric's expression from where I was, but I was sure he was staring Monroe down.

"And why exactly, Mr. Northman," Monroe said lazily, swirling the liquid in his glass, "do you think I—or anyone, for that matter—cares about the death of this," he gestured toward me, eyes narrowing in disdain, "piece of meat?"

I could feel Eric tense behind me. He shrugged in response. "All right then."

Then, without warning, I felt Eric's fangs pierce my neck, and a shocked yelp escaped me.

All three vampires lunged forward, but Eric slowly pulled back, grinning. He hadn't bitten deep, but I could feel the punctures where his fangs had pierced my skin. A sluggish trickle of blood began to run from the wound.

"What do you want, Eric?" Monroe snarled, baring his teeth, while Eric licked my blood from my wound in deliberate slowness. I shivered at the sensation.

"To start with," Eric mused, his tone casual, "I'd like the name of my maker's murderer."

The room fell silent. Eric's grip on my neck tightened even further, my gasps turning into ragged wheezes as stars danced in my vision.

"Come on now," he growled. "Which one of you parasites did it?"

The stars in my vision grew darker, the edges blurring into blackness.

"Or maybe I'll just kill the weapon of choice instead. Small victories, right? Goodbye, Ashley Simmons. Shame, really—you were entertaining."

His fingers squeezed harder. Were my eyes bulging? It felt like they were about to pop out of my skull. I pressed them shut, in an attempt to keep them inside my head. 

"I did it!" Tom stepped forward, his voice cutting through the tension.

Eric released me, and I collapsed to the ground, gasping for air, my lungs burning with each desperate inhale.

Tom rushed to my side, helping me to my feet. But as I struggled to stand, I saw Eric move behind him, his fist plunging into Tom's chest with a sickening crack.

"Remember that little trick I wanted to show you, Ashley?" Eric's voice was directed at me, but I could only stare at him, my eyes wide with shock, my heart pounding so hard everything around me blurred.

"Heart straw," Eric reminded me with a twisted grin. He was going to rip out Tom's heart. Real panic surged through me.

I scrambled to my knees, looking up at Tom—at the man who had deceived me for so long. His pale eyes gleamed with pain, blood already trickling from the corners of his mouth. His gaze was filled with regret.

"I'm sorry, Annie," he whispered, and those words struck me deep in my soul.

Annie. His nickname for me. It had come from a story I told him, about the only fond memory I had from my first three years of life—my grandmother's farm, where she'd called me "Annie" for reasons I never understood. It wasn't a nickname for Ashley, but she'd insisted on it.

"One day," she had whispered when I asked her about it, "maybe I'll be able to tell you why." She'd kissed my forehead and held me close, and in that moment, I'd felt safe and loved.

I had told Tom that story, and whenever I'd had a terrible day, he would hold me and whisper, "It'll all be okay, Annie."

Tears streamed down my face as I struggled to stop the inevitable, to stop Eric from killing him. I hated Tom, but I couldn't bear to watch him die.

"It's going to be okay, Tom," I whispered, lying through my teeth as I pressed my hand to his cheek. "You can rest now." Eric finally withdrew his hand from Tom's chest.