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“And me?”

“You, my dear, are the Gatekeeper.” Dmitri’s voice takes on an almost reverent quality. “The final key that unlocks the door to our old world. Your blood, when spilled at sunset over the sacred altar, will tear open the veil between realms. And because you’re not human, there’s a chance the gate will stay open. We will go in but of course others may find themselves coming out. I did hear that Skarde wanted to take over the world at one point and make humans obsolete. I say, don’t bother. Humans will get rid of themselves in time. But he is a mad king. Perhaps we’ll be rewarded for giving him the opportunity.”

Dr. Goldman returns to his table of horrors, replacing the blue knife and selecting another implement—a small, ornate silver cup with strange symbols etched around its rim.

“We’ll need a sample,” Dmitri explains as Goldman hands the cup to him, “to prepare the altar. Just a taste of what’s to come.”

Goldman then takes the knife and stabs it into my belly button, twisting and twisting, deeper and deeper until I’m vomiting from the pain.

“Finally, she feels something,” Katya says.

But I more than feel something. All I feel is deep-rooted vicious agony that spreads from my belly, causing me to scream so loud the windows rattle. Then I’m left choking on bile, covered in my own sick.

They continue as before. Goldman collects my blood as it flows from my stomach and into the silver cup, while Dmitricontinues his monologue, clearly enjoying the sound of his own voice.

“You know, I’ve watched this world deteriorate for centuries,” he says, pacing the edge of the candlelit circle. “I was there when the French Revolution painted the streets of Paris red with blood. I watched Napoleon’s grand army freeze in the Russian winter. I witnessed the industrial revolution blacken the skies of London, and I stood in the trenches of the Great War as men slaughtered each other by the millions.”

He pauses, turning to face me directly. “And for what? What has humanity accomplished with all its striving? They create machines of ever more efficient destruction. They divide themselves by arbitrary borders and skin colors, finding endless reasons to hate and kill one another.”

“As opposed to vampires?” I challenge, mustering my remaining strength. “You’re torturing me for a blood ritual. Don’t pretend you have the moral high ground.”

“The difference,” Dmitri says, his voice hardening, “is that we acknowledge our nature. We don’t hide behind pretty words like ‘progress’ and ‘civilization’ while committing atrocities. We are predators. We do what predators do.”

“Not all of us,” I counter. “Some of us choose differently.”

“Ah yes, the Van Helsing philosophy. Peaceful coexistence.” He makes the words sound like a curse. “How has that worked for our kind over the centuries? Hunted, persecuted, driven into shadows. Forced to conceal our true nature, to pretend to be something less than what we are.”

Goldman returns to Dmitri’s side, offering the cup of my blood. Dmitri takes it, lifting it in a mock toast.

“To the new world that awaits,” he says, then passes the cup to Katya without drinking.

She accepts it reverently, hands trembling slightly with excitement. “It’s almost time,” she says, her voice hushed. “The sun will set within the hour.”

“Prepare the transport,” Dmitri orders. “We move to the final location as planned.”

Goldman nods silently, beginning to pack away his instruments with the same methodical precision he’s shown throughout this nightmare, like this is just routine. Katya moves to the perimeter of the room, extinguishing candles one by one until only a few remain lit.

I hang from my chains, fighting to stay conscious despite the blood loss and pain. I need to remain aware, to look for any opportunity, any weakness in their plan. Callahan will come for me—I know this with bone-deep certainty. But if he does, they’ll be waiting.

“You won’t win,” I tell Dmitri, my voice little more than a whisper now. “Whatever you think is waiting on the other side of your gateway…it won’t be what you expect.”

He leans in close, the skull mask inches from my face. “That, my dear, is where you’re wrong. We know what that world was like, before we were ejected. A world without sun to burn us, without humans to hunt us. A paradise for our kind.”

“Sounds like hell to me.”

His laugh is cold and empty. “Then perhaps that’s what you deserve. As for me and mine—we’re going home.” He straightens, addressing Goldman and Katya. “Sedate her for transport. We can’t have her making a scene at the Observatory.”

The Observatory. So that’s where they’re taking me. The information burns in my mind, a small victory in this sea of defeat.

As Goldman approaches with a syringe filled with amber liquid, I gather my remaining strength for one last act of defiance.

“Callahan will never forgive you for it,” I say, meeting Dmitri’s gaze through his mask. “Not for killing me or how you used him to kill Elizabeth Short. And he’ll never join you. Your son is lost to you forever.”

For the first time, Dmitri seems genuinely affected by my words. His body stiffens, head tilting as if considering me anew.

“We shall see,” he says finally, voice tight. “Blood calls to blood, Ms. Reid. And tonight, when the veil thins and the gateway opens, we’ll discover whose call is stronger—yours or mine.”

The needle pierces my neck, and darkness rushes in from all sides.