reached the mansion’s entrance.

The other vampire, the woman who shared the body with someone Two considered a friend, almost a sister, was back on her feet and raving.

“You stupid, useless whore! You disgust me. Your weakness disgusts me. Where is your protector? Your lover? Your Super Man? He is with Abraham. Abraham called to him, and he went, and left you helpless. I’m going to bring Abraham your heart on a plate, and he’ll laugh and laugh, and there’s nothing Theroen will be able to do about it!”

“Missy, Missy, wait! You don’t have to do this. It doesn’t have to be like that!” Two heard herself speaking, heard the fear in her voice, and could accept it. It was the tone that made her hate herself. It sounded like an empty promise, like a bad lie. The pleading tone sounded like old memories, like her time with Darren, like empty despair. This situation was out of Two’s control, with little hope for improvement. Theroen was not here to swoop in and save her.

Missy snarled, racing around one edge of the couch. Two moved swiftly to the other, keeping the sofa between herself and those claws, hooked into talons and looking to tear at flesh. Her foot caught on something: a leg from the table. It rolled under her weight, and even Two’s enhanced senses were unable to cope with the sudden shift in balance. She stumbled backward, fell to the carpet, and landed on her back with a thud. The plush softness of the material seemed somehow obscene in light of the situation.

Missy howled in triumph and flung herself again into the air, so fast that Two’s eyes could barely track her movement. It was too late to roll, too late to dodge, too late to do anything. Time seemed to stretch out. Missy was in the air above her, a vision of death and hate and horror unlike any Two had ever experienced. Two’s hands scrabbled at her sides, looking for purchase. Looking for anything. Her hands touched something cylindrical, grabbed it in a panic, brought it in front of her.

The table leg.

Twelve inches long, three in diameter, the leg had splintered into a sharp point when the table had disintegrated. Two held it out against the oncoming impact in desperation. Missy’s eyes had time to flare wide in surprise.

The sound the piece of oak made as it entered Missy’s abdomen was indescribable. Splitting flesh, cleaving through bone, it pierced her body, the weight of her landing driving it further and further in. Two felt a sudden liquid warmth gush across her hands. She shoved, using her own strength to add to Missy’s motion, flipping the girl over on her back. Missy somersaulted, flailed in the air, and crashed to the floor on her back. Two rolled away, blood on her hands, her clothes, the carpet, everywhere.

Missy was making strangled choking noises, clawing at the stake in her chest, unable to get a decent handhold through the blood and the pain. She writhed on the floor, unable to lie flat. The point of the table leg held her back in an arched position. She screamed, and the scream became wet and strangled, filling the air with red mist. Then she fell back against the stake, and was still.

* * *

Two lay on the ground, waiting for her limbs to stop shaking. It seemed an eternity, was in truth only moments. She pushed herself to a sitting position and looked at the body on the floor in front of her. She was vaguely aware of Samantha’s presence beside her. The half-vampire spoke, her voice taught and breathy with tension. “Holy shit!”

The body on the floor jerked at this sound, arms flailing, and clawed at the wood of the entertainment center to its left. Missy’s hands gripped into the wood, splintering it. With an effort, she hauled herself upward, leaning against the wood, coughing blood. She brought her feet around and slumped into a sitting position, leaning against the cabinet, looking at the stake in her chest.

“Oh, God,” Two moaned. She scrambled backward on her hands, like a crab, away from the figure.

At this, the girl’s head jerked upward. Her eyes locked with Two’s. Not Missy’s eyes, Two realized. Melissa’s.

“Oh, God!” Two cried. “Oh, no! Melissa...” She moved back toward the woman, on hands and knees.

Melissa regarded her calmly, opened her mouth, tried to talk. A crimson bubble formed, burst at her lips, and the words came.

“Two. Two, stop. It hurts.