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“Then he can decide that for himself,” Sasha argues.

I almost tell Sasha no, that vampires don’t turn people without their consent.You did it with Gwyn,a nasty little voice says in my head, and it sounds an awful lot like Margot. Besides, I want Hale to live just as much as Sasha does—for Remy.

Before I’m given a chance to change my mind though, the sound of a gun clicking into a loaded position takes me by surprise. It’s my gun, and Sasha is holding it directly against my chest. I glare at Nico, annoyed that he let the pickpocket get the upper hand. Muzzle against my heart, there’s no moving or else I risk dying.

“I don’t give a fuck. Do it anyway,” she says.

“I can’t.”

“Then who can?” she asks, not even bothering to push the issue with me. I don’t know why I said I can’t do it, because I can. I certainly can fucking do it. But the idea of forcing someone to Ascend again—ever again—after Gwyn is repulsive.

Thankfully, I don’t have to explain myself as she turns the gun on Nico. She’s got it pointed directly at his dick, and if the situation were any fucking different, I’d be laughing my ass off over his facial expression. My own balls crawl up inside me over the thought of them being shredded by a hollow-point.

“Can you do it, pretty boy? This is your fucking fault.”

“My fault?” Nico asks, exasperated as he puts his hands on his hips. His eyebrows nearly reach his hairline. “I didn’t slice his throat.”

“No, but you’re the reason Hale got caught. You’re the reason I wasn’t paying attention and got separated from him. This is your fault,” she says, and then she’s pressing the muzzle of my gun against the far too tight jeans my friend insists upon wearing. “You’ll do it or I swear to god.”

Nico sighs then rolls his eyes so forcefully his head tilts back. “Do I have to?”

I say nothing. I won’t force him to create a vampire, knowing all that it entails. Knowing the connection that is forged, knowing just how much it fucking sucks. I think of his staunch refusal to turn Gwyn when she’d nearly died—and god, I wish I had listened to him about that. But the fact he’s willing to consider it now? I don’t know how to interpret it.

“Yeah you fucking have to if you want to hold onto your balls. Do you want to risk them not growing back?” Sasha threatens.

“Wake up Gwyn. Let her decide,” I tell the witch, and Caitriona shakes her head.

“The incantation I used on her won’t wear off for a while. I don’t have the necessary ingredients to undo it.”

“Fuck,” I say, and then despite the fact I don’t want to force this upon him, I turn toward Nico. I’m tempted to repeat my direction from a few weeks ago, when I’d asked him to help Gwyn Ascend—but I don’t. This is something I could do myself, but every bone in my body, every tenuous thread of connection between me and Gwyn, tells me that I’ll die if I do it.

So I say nothing. Nico knows what’s at stake now. He knows Remy is on the line, and if he’s willing to Ascend Hale, then I’ll be indebted to him for life.

“Don’t say I’ve never done you any favors, Roman,” he says, and then he’s kneeling on the ground behind me.

I don’t allow my relief to show, getting straight to business. “I have a feeling when I move, he won’t have very long. The blood will?—”

“I know.”

Sasha begins to sob, holding Hale’s hand as tightly as she can. She sits on one side of him and Nico positions himself on the other. Nico bites into his own wrist, and I can smell the fresh blood dripping down his skin.

“Put enough in his mouth so that when I move?—”

“Fuck, Roman, I know. I have Ascended far more people than you, I promise you that.”

I push my curiosity aside, focusing entirely on Gwyn’s friend, and make a note to ask him about it later. Nico doesn’t talk about the decades before he came to our coven—ever. Maybe one day he’ll tell me just how many people he’s turned. After my own experience with the cruelty of craving that came along with turning Gwyn, I wonder how he’s been able to withstand it more than once.

“Is it true that she’s a hunteranda vampire?” Caitriona asks as I position myself to lift my knee from Hale’s body. She hovers over the scene with hands in her coat pockets and a crease between her brows. I suppose this all must be so goddamnfascinating to someone blessed with the ability to walk the fuck away.

“Yes,” I say, and she makes a contemplative sound. I ignore her because I don’t give a single fuck what she thinks.

“You ready?” I ask Nico, and when he tells me yes, I lift my knee from Hale’s collarbone and get out of the way. The man gasps the moment his airway is free, eyes open and terrified. The whites of his eyes are blood-red, destroyed by lack of oxygen. He doesn’t seem to know what’s going on as he takes deep breaths that rattle his entire body. I stand nearby, pacing as I watch Nico’s wrist bloody Hale’s lips.

“Hale, oh my god, I’m here. I’m here,” Sasha cries. “I’m so sorry Hale, oh my god I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.”

The frigid December air begins to steam as the heat of Hale’s life source hits the ground.

“Drink,” Nico commands, pressing his wrist against Hale’s lips. Like Gwyn, Hale’s lips don’t seem to cooperate at first. He’s gasping, mouth opening and closing like a fish, and the blood gushes out of his sliced neck. I swear, remembering that our commands would likely be useless against a sorcerer.