“How many of them are there?” somebody in the back demanded. “These—vampire spawn.”

“We’re rare.” I blurted it out, too loudly, almost shouting. But I could at least speak for myself. “Maybe five are born in a century. That’s what I’ve always heard.”

There was a tangible sense of hesitation in the room. I could tell that they wanted to ask me further questions and learn more, but they didn’t want to talk to me—to treat me as a person.

That would make it harder for them to kill me.

Fear pooled in my belly, cold and heavy. It was so hard to stand when my legs wanted to give out from under me. Only Lucas’s presence at my side kept me steady. Desperately I wished for my mother and father, who would never know what had become of me. I wanted them to come save me. I wanted them to hug me one more time.

“We better find out what we can about them,” said Milos.

“Find out what their vulnerabilities are.” I twitched as I recognized what he was holding: the neon-green water gun, no doubt loaded with holy water. They were going to start by burning my skin. Be brave, I thought. Would holy water burn me now? Consecrated ground and crosses had always been problems—so probably it would sear my flesh the way it did any other vampire’s.

I wouldn’t shrink away, wouldn’t even turn my head. They wanted to see me afraid, but I could at least deny them that.

“Don’t do that.” Lucas held up his hands, trying in vain to reason with them. “If you guys will just listen—dammit!”

Milos sprayed holy water at me, and Lucas stepped between me and the spray. I was so grateful to him—at least, in the split second before I realized he’d made the worst mistake of his life.

The holy water hit Lucas and began to smoke. He cried out as it burned his flesh, the same way that it would burn a vampire’s.

“What the hell?” Milos shouted, as people began to swear and freak out. I was nearly as shocked as they were, but only for an instant; Lucas had been gaining vampire powers and vulnerabilities ever since I first drank his blood. Now holy water was as dangerous to him as it was to me. Lucas winced in pain, but his expression soon shifted to one of horror. Our eyes met, and I could see that he knew: Now he would be only a monster to them, too.

Eliza stepped forward. There were no words to describe the depthless contempt in her voice as she said, “Lucas feeds it.”

The silence that fell was deadly. I tried to think of something to say, but there was nothing. Instead I took Lucas’s hand and attempted to feel that, only that, just his fingers in mine. I wanted him to be the only thing in the world.

“Guys,” Lucas began, “listen to me.”

Milos held up the gun in a wordless warning to shut up. Lucas stopped talking.

Eliza said, “We need to get these two to one of the professors. Study them, figure out how they’ve changed and why. We need all the info we can get out of them.”

Before they die went unsaid.

“Cuff ’em. Load them into one of the vans.” Her eyes were cold as she finished, “Get this trash out of here.”

They handcuffed our hands in front of us and walked us to one of the vans. To my shock, Dana sat in the driver’s seat, and she didn’t glance at me or Lucas as we were brought out. Was that guilt? Revulsion? Did she simply not care any longer?

Milos sat beside her, and he had holy water and stakes handy. Some of the others chained our handcuffs to metal bars soldered to the wall of the van; I’d always wondered why the vans had those. Well, now I knew. Dana came around briefly to double-check that we were securely bound. I stared at her with all the hatred in my heart—more hate than I’d known I could feel for a human being. She didn’t seem to notice the venom in my glare as she turned to check Lucas’s cuffs, too.

Then she returned to the driver’s seat, and we took off. I knew there were a couple of cars following us; the headlights shone through the back windows of the van.

“Bet you cash money they didn’t torch that other one,” Milos said to Dana. “We’re gonna have to go looking for pretty boy.”

Great. Now Balthazar’s doomed, too.

In despair, I glanced over at Lucas. He didn’t look nearly as upset as I did. Actually, he didn’t look that upset at all. He looked—excited.

Slowly he unfolded one of his fists to reveal handcuff keys in his palm.

How did he do that? All I knew was that we could get our handcuffs open, and maybe we had a chance.

Dana turned on the van’s radio, and music flooded the space. Instantly Lucas went to work, fumbling with his own cuffs for just a second until they opened. I watched him flex his hands, testing his strength. Together we looked toward the front of the van, but neither Dana nor Milos was watching us. So he leaned forward, flash fast, and dropped the keys in my hand.

My clammy hands were slick, and I was scared I might drop the keys, but I didn’t. Instead I tried to work the key into the lock; it was harder than it looked and made my fingers cramp. I wondered what we’d do once we were free. Jump out the back and run for it? With the cars right behind us, that didn’t give us much hope—but it was better than nothing.

“Hey,” Milos said. “Stop at the yellow.”

“I can make it.” Dana nonchalantly drove on.

“Dammit.” Milos leaned to examine his passenger-side mirror. “The others got stuck behind the light. Cop’s right there, so they can’t run it.”