Jett moves left. Two vampires converge on him. He doesn't slow. Catches the first one's throat mid-lunge. Drives him into the wall. The vampire's head bounces. Once. Twice. Jett doesn't let go. Lifts him higher. Slams him down. The marble cracks under the impact. The vampire's eyes roll back.
The second comes from behind. Jett pivots. Elbow to temple. The vampire staggers. His hands fly up too late. Jett's already moving. Grabs the vampire's jaw. Wrenches it sideways. The crack echoes through the nave. The vampire drops, choking on his own broken face.
Dorian goes right. The woman with the knife hesitates. Priest or elder vampire. She chooses wrong. Dorian closes the distance in a blur. Grabs her knife hand. Twists. Bone snaps. She screams. The knife clatters to marble. Dorian catches it mid-fall.
His other hand closes around her throat. Lifts her off her feet. Slams her into the wall beside the altar. Stone cracks behind her head.
"Move and I'll rip your head off."
She freezes. His fingers tighten. She can feel the pressure building. The way his grip shifts. Testing. Finding the angle. Her breathing comes fast. Panicked. She looks toward Lucien. No help there. Looks at the other vampires. They're all fighting. All losing.
"Please," she whispers.
"You threatened a priest in a church." Dorian's voice stays level. Cold. "In my territory. After I warned your entire line about consequences."
"Lucien made me—"
"Lucien isn't here to save you." His grip tightens another degree. "No one is."
Metal rings on stone. Bodies collide. The sounds echo off vaulted ceilings.
That leaves Lucien for me.
He crosses the distance faster than my eyes can track. Slams into me with the force of a car. We go down together. Rolling across marble. Each fighting for position.
He pins my wrist. His face hovers inches from mine. Starts talking while I struggle beneath him.
"You made me do this. You made me chase you. You could have just disappeared quietly."
I buck hard. Get a knee up. Shove him off.
We both spring to our feet.
I'm breathing hard. He's not.
"You're pathetic. Blaming me for your weakness."
I come at him with everything Dorian taught me. Fast combinations. Throat strikes. Pressure points.
Nothing lands clean.
Lucien is faster. Catches my wrist mid-strike and twists until bones grind. Pain shoots up my arm.
I gasp.
He uses the grip to swing me into a pew. Wood splinters under the impact. My shoulder screams. I roll off the broken bench.
He's already there.
Fist driving toward my face. I move. Barely. His knuckles crack the pew where my head was a heartbeat ago. Splinters explode.
I scramble back. Put distance between us.
He's smiling now. Enjoying this.
"You're better than I expected. But still too human in how you think."
He lunges. I dodge. His fist punches through marble. Stone cracks. Dust explodes. He pulls his hand free. Flexes his fingers.
"Two centuries," he says. "I've been doing this for two centuries."
"Then you should be embarrassed."
His smile drops. He moves. Faster than before. Catches me by the throat. Lifts. My feet leave the ground. He slams me into a pillar. My spine cracks against stone.
"I could have made you perfect." His grip tightens. "Could have taught you everything. Could have given you the world."
I scratch his hands.
"Instead you chose that ancient fossil who'll bore you to death in a decade." He leans closer. "You chose wrong, Nora."
My vision tunnels. Black creeping in at the edges.
His face fills my sight. Triumphant. Already savoring victory.
The math is simple. He's stronger. Faster. More experienced.
I need an edge.
Fight dirty.
My hand scrabbles against the pillar behind me. Finds nothing. Just smooth stone.
Then something cold. Metal. A bracket holding a votive candle.
I grab it. Tear it free from the wall. Swing it into his temple.
The impact rings like a bell. Lucien's grip loosens. I drop. Gasp. He staggers back, hand to his head.
Blood runs between his fingers.
I'm on him before he can recover. Bracket across his throat. Knee driving into his chest. His hands claw at my arms but I've got leverage now.
I lean in. Put my weight behind it.
His neck bulges. The angle is nearly impossible. Vertebrae compress.
I ease off just enough to let him speak.
"Say it. Say you did this because you're a coward."
He spits blood at me. The spray hits my face.
I press down harder. His neck almost flattens. His eyes go wide.
I wait until he's starting to panic then ease off again. Grab his hand. Bend his index finger back until it's perpendicular to his palm.
He makes a sound between a gasp and a whimper.
"Say it!"
The finger snaps. The sound is clean. Final.
Lucien screams.
"I was afraid! You were always stronger than me and I couldn't stand it!"
The words come out pathetic.
I release him. Step back.
He curls on the floor. Clutching his hand. Gasping like a landed fish.
I look down at him and feel nothing. No satisfaction. No anger. Just tired contempt.
"You're not worth eternity in my memory. Get out of this city. Do not come back."
Lucien crawls toward the door.
No one stops him.
Jett has two unconscious vampires at his feet. Both breathing but not getting up anytime soon. Dorian still has the woman pinned.
Father Mateo sobs against the altar. Wrists bleeding where the zip ties cut in. His whole body shakes.
The main doors slam open.
Rafael the concierge walks in with three men in maintenance uniforms. Takes in the scene without flinching. Blood on stone. Bodies sprawled. The priest crying.
He's done this before.
"Start with the blood," he tells his crew. "Then the bodies."
He looks at Dorian. "We calling this in or handling it quiet?"
"Quiet."
Rafael nods. Gets to work.
Dorian cuts Father Mateo's bonds with the confiscated knife. Helps him sit. The priest is shaking too hard to stand. Keeps asking if he's going to die.
"No," Dorian says. "You're safe now. Someone will take you to the hospital."
Rafael is already on his phone arranging it.
I lean against the pillar and slide down until I'm sitting on cold marble. Exhaustion hits like a freight train. Not physical. Something deeper. The kind that lives in bone.
I close my eyes.
Then my phone rings. Unknown number.
I almost don't answer. Do anyway.
"Nora?"
June's voice. Tentative. Scared. But calling.
"Yeah. It's me."