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Peeking around the front of the truck, Pete whispered, “The zombies still ain't moving. That's good, right?”

“It's because The Summoner is too busy being angry at Rachon to send them after us. Or maybe he just doesn't care,” Jeff answered.

“I thought that bastard was dead. ” Pete's brow furrowed.

Jeff shrugged. “He was. Is. Something. I'm pretty sure that the pretty girl out there is him. He must have somehow transferred to her body. ”

“Gimme your gun,” Pete abruptly ordered.

“What?”

“Does it have bullets that can kill a vampire?”

“If you hit it in the heart,” Jeff admitted.

“Then give it to me. I'll kill that son of a bitch so he can't ever hurt Amaliya again. ” Pete held out his hand, waiting.

“We can't attack them. If we draw attention to ourselves, we won't be able to fight off all those zombies. Do you understand?”

“I'm a fuckin' great shot. I can take out The Summoner before she knows, or he knows, what hits her. . . uh. . . him. ” Pete insistently held out his hand.

“Rachon will probably come after us then. ” Jeff felt sick to his stomach at the thought. They were damned either way.

“You got other weapons?”

“Yeah. ”

“Then after I shoot The Summoner, you best be ready to help me take out the other one. At least we won't have to deal with those damn zombies once the bastard is down, right?”

Jeff nodded.

“So give me the damn gun. ” Pete's blue eyes were determined and merciless.

Not sure if he was doing the right thing, Jeff handed over his weapon.

Pete gave him a solemn nod. “Now back into the graveyard so I can get a good shot. You with me?”

Rubbing his aching knee, Jeff nodded in the affirmative. He hadn't come this far to give up so easily. At least Sergio was safely tucked away and Sam was far away from the confrontation. The sick feeling in his gut made him want to puke, but he knew that he couldn't allow The Summoner to live.

“Let's go,” Pete said.

Together, they ducked down and headed back in the direction of the quarreling vampires.

* * *

To Amaliya's surprise, Eduardo and Cassandra were just as swift as she and Cian when they sprinted across the overgrown field toward the graveyard. The world was a blur around her, but she could see the dhamphir and coyote out of her peripheral vision keeping pace. Cian led their pack of supernaturals, his hair rippling in the wind.

Raised voices carried on the wind. The risen dead called out to Amaliya, her necromancy burning in her veins, crying for release. As they closed in on the graveyard, Amaliya saw the clusters of undead among the fallen headstones. They were wizened and barely more than skeletons. A few stronger ones, more fully-formed, were near the center of the pack near the necromancer who had raised them. Amaliya could feel Bianca's power woven among the zombies, holding them up, keeping them alive.

The scents of the grave, fresh blood, and earth filled her nostrils as they leaped over the low lying wrought-iron fence and landed inside the graveyard where Amaliya had defeated The Summoner. A stab of fear and a thrill of excitement tangled together inside of her. She had struck down her creator and embraced her power in this very place. Now she would face Rachon and her minions, and she would not allow them to defeat her.

Cian moved in front of her, casting away the zombies that blocked his path. They shattered against headstones and fell to pieces as they tumbled away. The sight upset Amaliya, but she said nothing. The angry voices were just ahead, beyond the dead.

“They haven't all risen,” she whispered to Cassandra.

“The zombies?” Cassandra asked warily.

Amaliya nodded.