Above her, she heard a strange thudding in the trees. Her eyes darted upward, and despite the blur of motion overhead she could make out his shape. He was above her. Twenty feet up. And leaping ahead of her as if he were weightless.

Oh, my God, she thought. It’s a vampire.

This one wasn’t like the vampires at Evernight. He wasn’t trying to hide what he was. He was moving faster than Eb. Coming for her. Coming to kill her.

Eb stumbled so suddenly that even Skye’s expert seat couldn’t hold her in place—she went tumbling in front of him, hitting the frozen ground so hard the breath was sucked out of her.

Dazed, Skye stumbled to her feet. A fragment of her helmet lay shattered against the snowy ground; but for the helmet, that would’ve been her skull. Her left hand was scraped badly enough to drip blood, and plenty of it. For one moment she looked at her horse, who hadn’t budged since the stumble, as though he were stuck in place—if his leg was broken, he’d have to be put down, oh, God, no, not Eb—

But then the vampire landed only a few feet away, and she had to run.

Skye went as fast as she could, but he was faster. He leaped ahead of her, making her skid to a stop. Desperately she ripped off her helmet and held it in front of her chest—it was the only shield she had—but he began laughing.

Laughing at her. Toying with her. And there wasn’t a damned thing she could do about it.

“Are you cut?” he said. His voice was smooth and pleasant; he spoke as if he’d just found her there, injured, and wanted to be of assistance. Of course he wasn’t fooling her and he knew it. This was just a game he wanted to play.

Well, she’d be damned if she’d play along. “Get lost.”

The vampire stooped down and dipped two of his fingers in the small red puddle her blood drops had made in the snow. “It looks beautiful against the white, doesn’t it?” he said dreamily. “Like red roses in a bridal bouquet.” Then he lifted his fingers to his lips and licked her blood away.

Then something happened to him—his gaze seemed to dim, and his jaw went slack, and his entire body became still. It was completely bizarre, but it was a chance and Skye meant to take it.

She bolted back toward Eb. If he was injured then—no, she couldn’t think about that. If he wasn’t, she might be able to get back on him and ride out of here still. Head whirling, Skye pushed herself faster and faster, seeking Eb’s black form amid the deepening afternoon shadows—nightfall would be on them soon—

Until a hand closed over her elbow, jerking her back so sharply that she cried out. Skye turned back to see the vampire no longer distracted. His grip was so strong it hurt, and though she pulled back there was no freeing herself.

“Let’s make red roses in the snow,” he whispered.

She thought, I’m going to die.

And then someone else reached from behind her, grabbed the vampire away from her, and threw him—physically threw him, farther and harder than any human could have done—so that he thudded into a tree trunk two dozen feet away before landing on the ground.

Skye turned to see her rescuer—and then gasped. There, his strong profile outlined against the dim glow of sunset, was another vampire—one she knew.

His name escaped her lips as a whisper: “Balthazar.”

Chapter Two

BALTHAZAR HAD COME HERE LOOKING FOR Skye Tierney. Thanks to Lucas, he’d known she was in trouble. But he hadn’t expected to walk right into a fight against another vampire.

Then again, neither had his opponent, who was about to get one whether he liked it or not. Balthazar intended for him not to like it one bit.

“Balthazar.” Skye was wide-eyed with fright and astonishment. “What are you doing here?”

“Right now? Kicking this guy’s ass. Stay back and get out of here if you can.” Thankfully, she did what he asked, stepping farther away toward safety. That meant he didn’t have to worry about protecting her and could concentrate on making this vampire sorry he’d ever decided to feed on a helpless girl in the woods.

His opponent righted himself, no more than dazed by the throw. Balthazar had expected as much. He bolted toward the guy as fast as he could. The element of surprise was all he had going for him. He didn’t drink human blood often, and obviously this one did, plus something about him told Balthazar that this one was older than he was. Stronger. More powerful.

Surprise paid off. He was able to tackle the vampire solidly, taking him down to the ground. Balthazar grabbed for a nearby branch, a short one that could serve as a stake. Though he disliked killing his own kind and avoided it whenever possible, the alternative here meant leaving behind a threat to human life. No way. But as he lifted the stake overhead, readying the fatal blow, something happened that he hadn’t expected.

He recognized the vampire.

“Lorenzo,” he said. Knowing him was more reason to stake him, not less, but the astonishment of seeing this vampire—from the most terrible moments of his past—froze Balthazar half in place, stake still clenched in his fingers. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I might ask the same of you.” Lorenzo’s shock was similar to his own; this meeting was a horrid coincidence, no more. Immortality seemed to increase the probability of coincidence. Given enough time, paths would inevitably cross—even the ones you least wanted.

“Leave this girl alone. Why are you after her?”

“Because she is human and we are vampires—something you too often forget. Now, ask what you really long to know,” Lorenzo said. “Ask me if I came here with Redgrave.”