take care of the hunter. When all is finished, I will come for you."

She mulled over his suggestion. "If I hear the fight move upstairs, couldn't I just slip out onto the main floor and out the front door?"

"No, wait behind the second floor's entrance and do not come out until I open it."

Chane pushed her inside and closed the passage entrance.

He would never come for her and, eventually, Sapphire's impatience would be too much. She would try to sneak through the house. With luck, she would also join Toret in a second death.

Chane opened his senses as wide as possible.

Soft growling and the barest footfall upon stairs sounded from far below. He crouched in the hallway behind the railing near the landing. Toret was at the far end of the railing over the stairwell, examining his sword for a long moment. To Chane's astonishment, he put the blade down. What did he plan to fight with?

Where's Tibor? Toret mouthed without sound.

Chane drew a line across his throat with one finger and pointed down the stairwell to the sound of approaching steps.

Toret looked blankly down over the railing's edge. He crouched, angry determination on his face. Chane settled low, waiting.

With a little luck, Toret would find himself very suddenly alone against the dhampir and the half-blood. Not the best plan, but it was all that Chane could arrange in the moment. Freedom was perhaps only moments away.

Chapter 18

Leesil let Magiere lead the way up the staircase. Her slightly blurred form was silhouetted by the glow of her topaz amulet, an unsettling sight. Hopefully, the orb was the last surprise they would encounter. Although he could see enough to fight, he couldn't clearly make out the carpet's pattern. Spotting any fine detail of warning was impossible until his vision cleared further, and they didn't have time to wait. He feared little in the world, but the prospect of blindness had never occurred to him.

Chap snarled softly as he mounted the stairs beside Leesil. Wynn and Vatz followed behind, the sage now carrying her cold lamp crystal and the crossbow Magiere had given her. Nearing the second floor, Magiere stopped with one foot on the landing and looked back at Leesil, her dark eyes troubled and uncertain.

Leesil unsheathed his second blade, one in each hand, and took two steps up to peer through the stairs' railing along the hallway floor.

A headless body lay there, and a pool of dark fluid was already soaked into the rug. Leesil reached out to touch the stained spot—it was still freshly wet.

Magiere stepped onto the landing and into the hall, and Leesil followed. Halfway down the passage lay a decapitated head. A gasp came from behind Leesil, and he looked back.

Wynn's eyes were wide and round, fixed on the corpse.

He waved a hand at her several times before she looked up, and with a scowl, he put one finger to his lips. She nodded slowly.

Vatz sidestepped the body at Leesil's feet. He glared at it as if someone had stolen a dockside fare out from under his wrinkling nose.

Leesil gave Magiere a questioning glance, but she merely shook her head in confusion and moved down the corridor. They passed by the head and reached the base of the final flight of stairs.

Creeping upward, Magiere led them. As they stepped beyond the halfway point, Chap snarled loudly.

Magiere shifted back against the wall and Chap inched another step upward. Fur on end, the hound looked up toward the floor above. Leesil followed that crystal gaze.

Somewhere above were undeads.

Chap cut loose a wail that shattered the silence, and the world around Leesil became a flurry of motion.

A tall figure appeared above the railing along the third floor and slashed down at Magiere with a long sword. The clang of it colliding with her falchion rang in Leesil's ears, and he missed a grab for Chap as the hound bolted past Magiere to the landing.

Magiere slashed the sword out of her way as she climbed upward. The sword's wielder stepped into full view as he brought his blade back to swipe at Chap's lunging form.

He was tall, with brown-red hair, and dressed in a simple but finely tailored tunic. As Leesil took two more stairs, he heard Wynn cry out.

"Chane!"

That single word made the swordsman falter as he looked down the stairs past Leesil. Indecision broke the cold determination on his pale face.

A quarrel sailed past Leesil's head and struck the tall undead in the chest. Smoke welled around the