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“Go suck your own tail.”

Like a flash, Silt had one of his new makeshift swords under the male’s chin. “Do not cross me.” He pressed the sword harder, glad he’d taken the time to rush back into the fire field to pluck two lengths of crystal as weapons. “Did you see a vampire?”

“She did this!” The shifter opened his mouth and pointed to the missing top row of teeth and fangs. “That leech pummeled me to the ground, booted me in the face, and stole my belt!”

“Sounds like she made off with your balls too?” Silt’s lips curved, though he hadn’t fared much better against her. She’d broken his nose, busted his own balls, and cracked his knee. “Did she drink you when you were down?” Either she would benefit from this creature’s blood, or the wendigos would. Silt searched for the telltale bite marks, but the male’s coat concealed his neck.

“No, she didn’t feed. Just booted me—for no reason whatsoever!”

Blood for the taking, and she passed it up? “Where did she go?”

“Dizzy after that. I think she headed toward that rise in the distance. We’re all headed there.”

“From where?”

“From the cave. Everyone starts in the same cave.”

As suspected.

Half-delirious, the shifter said, “The Gaolers warned me in dreams . . . but human flesh calls to me.” His pupils swelled to larger slits. “Mortals are so tender. I can’t resist devouring them.”

Silt punched him, knocking him unconscious, a death sentence in this field. He dropped down to filch the shifter’s boots, surprised they fit. Then he peeled off the leather coat from the male’s lax body. The cut was too tight but might stretch. He ripped strips from the shifter’s shirt to knot around the ends of his swords for handles.

Provisioned, he’d just started forward when he sensed wendigos behind him. He whirled around to find eyes burning with hunger. Gore stamped their revolting faces.

Opportunistic feeders would take the easy meat first. Weapons raised, Silt eased away from the shifter.

The wendigos pounced on the unconscious male with a ferocity that would have surprised even a predator like him.

As the pack started their feeding frenzy, Silt hastened away through the sludge.

The shifter woke in time for hell, his screams carrying over the desolate landscape.

Then more howls sounded in the distance. Ignoring the pain in his exhausted body, Silt ran headlong.

Another pack was on the scent of prey, heading away from him. His bet:They hunt a female vampire.

Nine

They’ve got me in their sights.

Those other immortals had fallen quickly, leaving Mina as the next target.

She plowed through the mud, that pack steadily pursuing. She was fast, but the wendigos moved across the sucking muck with ease. How close were they? The intermittent rain hindered her senses.

If she died in this place, Mirceo would blame himself for not being there for her, forgetting all his years as her determined protector.

And if Silt escaped this place, he’d be a threat to Mirceo as long as he lived. She simply refused to die before she struck down that sorcerer.

As miles passed beneath her feet, her thoughts turned to Kristoff. Why hadn’t she been able to speak to him when she’d had the chance? She recalled bringing a prized bottle of bloodmead to his villa. He’d accepted the gift with thanks and absently said, “You look well tonight, princess.” She’d stuttered some harebrained reply, almost passed out, then fled.

Now she imagined brave Kristoff storming this realm to rescue her, taking her into his arms. Having faced so manyperils, she would have no time for shyness. Instead of stammering, she would clutch his shoulders and command him, “Kiss me, Gravewalker.”

Interrupting her reverie, howls sounded from . . .in front of her?

She drew up short.

More wendigos approached from ahead. Those creatures had surrounded her?At least twenty of them grew visible through the sheets of rain. They hissed and bared their fangs as they loped closer.