“Go without us,” Charles’ mom said when we arrived. “Protect the children.”
Charles shook his head. “We didn’t go through all this to leave you two behind.”
Henry dipped his head forward to look past his wife. “Son, listen to your mother. We’ll never make it—not now.”
Charles stormed into the room and lifted Valeria. She looked even younger tonight, a tiny slip of a woman draped over her son’s arms. He glared at Adrian. “Are you going to help, or not?”
Henry waved his hand, as if to ward off any help, and wobbled to his feet.
Valeria’s darkly-tanned skin had paled, and her auburn hair had lost all its bounce and luster. Henry’s skin had turned sallow. Almost translucent.
We wove through the passage until we reached a stairway leading up to a set of double doors.
“I can guide ye no further,” Ophelia said. “There’ll be a car waiting outside the cemetery walls.”
“Thank you,” I whispered.
Her ice-blue eyes locked on mine, a hopeful but uncertain smile touching her lips. “Your battle will not end ‘ere. Now, go on. Up the stairs wit’ ye.”
She disappeared down another passage. Adrian and Henry opened the doors and Charles started up the stairs, his mom still in his arms.
Each child took one of my hands. “It’s okay, Sophia,” they said.
I wanted to shrink back at the sound of their voices, at the way they spoke together. How did they know my name? I couldn’t hear their thoughts—were they human? What were they doing here?
Shoving my questions aside, I followed Charles up the stairs. No one knew which way to go once we stepped through those doors. Light from the passages faded behind us. The open doors at the top of the steps were an aperture for moonlight, and we stepped outside. Every direction looked the same, the cemetery’s borders nowhere in sight.
Adrian turned to the group. “Follow me and be prepared. If Marcus shows, take him out first. He’ll disable Sophia otherwise.”
Charles set Valeria down. Dead leaves crunched underfoot, the sound unrealistically loud in my ears. Thoughts from different members of the Maltorim mingled with my own. They were close. Watching us. Marcus must have been too far away to overpower my abilities.
I scanned the area for a weapon—something to use other than my mind. A thick branch rested against a headstone a few feet away. Lifting my arm, I visualized the branch floating toward me. It flew from the ground into my grasp.
Circe stepped from the shadows with another young, lanky Cruor at her side. I could just make him out in the limited light: Charles’ friend, Adonis. We’d met on Samhain. He and Circe stood at the forefront of the rest of their group.
My adrenaline kicked into high gear, and the branch shook in my grasp. Charles, his back to mine, reached behind himself and touched my wrist, stilling my trembles. The Liettes took a protective stance in front of the children, and Adrian stood to the side.
Circe laughed. “A stick?”
As she spoke, her mind pushed on mine, sending the usual tingle, but I was already in her thoughts, blocking her effort. I picked up on enough to know we wouldn’t get far if we ran. Circe and her cronies weren’t the only Cruor after us. We had to face them.
Charles eyed Adonis warily. “You’re part of this?”
Charles’ mind sped through thoughts so quickly I couldn’t keep up. I severed the connection and focused on Adonis.
What if they’re wrong? Charles can’t be a…I can’t kill him. What do I do? The girl—his gaze snapped to me—this is all her fault.
“You don’t have to do this,” I said to him.
Adonis growled. “Don’t talk to me.”
“Charles saved you, didn’t he?” I asked. “Your maker left you—he turned you and left you with no idea what to do. Charles took you in.”
“Shut up!”
Circe stepped forward. “Enough! Adonis, the Maltorim will kill us if we don’t return them. That is all you need to know.” She softened her expression and locked her eyes on me. Realizing her efforts to influence me had no effect, she grinned. “And you—special, special. They promised you to me.”
More Cruor swarmed near. My grip tightened around the branch. They didn’t want to kill us—we were worth more alive—but they would if they had to. As far as they were concerned, we were better off dead than out in the world.
Adonis remained a few steps back. “I’m sorry, Charles. This is law.”
I snapped the branch in half. The ends were jagged and the branch strong enough to impale the undead. Though I never took my eyes off Circe, I turned my head to Charles and whispered, “You need to shift.”
“Be careful, Sophia.” He took half of the broken branch from my hand. His body trembled, and I bolted to Adrian’s side. The ground shook. Circe and Adonis paused, unable to pull their gazes from the transformation. Charles’ skin grayed and his form grew.