“You break any rules you want,” he said. “Cadogan House constantly ignores the rules, and they are never punished. If he’d gotten in, he’d have been fixed. He’d have been better.”

And there it was.

“Your brother needs help, Clive. But Cadogan House isn’t the solution. It never was. And punishing me won’t help Levi.”

“But it will help me,” he said. “I invoke the Rule of Satisfaction!”

Oh, the glorious irony, I thought silently, that I’d been denied my chance to fight him, and he’d called me out.

“Stand down,” Nicole said. “Stand down, Clive. You have no basis to demand Satisfaction. The AAM’s business here is concluded.”

“No!” Clive said, throwing out an arm as if throwing off her authority. “I have personal reasons. She does as she pleases and it will stop.”

“Clive—” she said again, the word a threat, but it was my turn.

“I accept.”

The words echoed across the lawn, so there was no doubt of my intentions. I felt magic blossom behind me, knew Connor and my parents didn’t like it. But this was my fight.

Nicole’s brows lifted. “It is unnecessary. Our business is done.”

“My business with Clive is not done,” I said, shifting my gaze to him as the same slow, maniacal smile I’d seen on Levi’s face spread across his. “He has accused me of murder, of being a rule breaker. I’ve read the Rule of Satisfaction, too,” I said, and enjoyed the shock in his face, probably that I knew anything of the Canon.

“I elect to fight with blades,” I said, then looked at Nicole. “Does the AAM object?”

Nicole looked at me, then at Clive, and considered. The moment stretched so long crickets literally began to chirp in the intervening silence. I suspected her internal debate was simple: Would this fight rid her of one problem or create yet another?

After a moment, she nodded. “The AAM has no objection. The demand for Satisfaction may proceed.”

* * *

* * *

I moved back and held out a hand, assuming someone would press a katana into it, and felt Connor’s fingers brush against mine as he handed me my scabbard. “We protect each other,” he whispered. “Go get him.”

Clive unsheathed his sword.

“I will destroy you,” he said. “I will fight for everyone who follows the rules and still gets fucked in the end.”

“Life isn’t fair, Clive. Welcome to immortality.” I unsheathed my sword, light catching and sliding across the blade. “I’ll fight for Levi,” I stated, “because he didn’t need rules. He needed help. I’ll fight for Connor, who he attacked. I’ll fight for Blake, who he killed. And I’ll fight for Carlie, for every time I defend her life to you and those like you.” I leered at him, disrespect dripping from my tone. “It was still worth it. It will always be worth it.”

Clive screamed, and as I knew he would, lunged forward, blade outstretched.

Keep the eyes hidden, I told the monster, and we’ll fight him together.

That had a thrill moving through me.

He swiped and we successfully blocked, but the blow ricocheted through my shoulder. If the monster could feel the pain, it ignored it, pushed back and swung again, pulling my dagger with my free hand. Clive swung again, and we used both blades to block this one, then push it back toward him. He grunted, reset, came forward again.

Some vampires fought like lovers—seduction with a blade. Some fought like dancers, blade and body sinuous and smooth. Clive fought like a hammer—useful as a blunt instrument, but not much finesse. He had strength enough to issue blow after blow, but with the monster behind me, we were all but tireless.

He lunged forward and we flipped backward, then came up with a spinning dagger slice that cut a stripe across his shins. He cursed, struck downward. We jumped over the blade, hit the ground and rolled, and came up with sword and dagger crossed.

“Try again,” I said, in that half voice that wasn’t quite mine.

He looked confused, but wasted no time in jumping forward. This time he feinted left with the blade, but used a side kick that hit my left flank and pushed the air from my lungs. I jumped back, sucked in a breath, heard Connor growling beside me with growing impatience.

My fight, I thought. My rules. But he had a point. So I took the advance, using the katana to block while I stabbed at Clive with the dagger, catching his arm this time, then spinning away before he could strike back.

“For a favorite child of the AAM,” I taunted, “you aren’t especially good at fighting, Clive. Is that why you stood by and watched last time?”

“Traitor,” he muttered.

“Hmm. That sounds like something Levi would say.”

“You aren’t fit to speak his name,” Clive roared, and he struck again, the blow forceful enough to send the dagger to the ground, hidden now in dewy grass.

“Brat,” Connor murmured behind me. A warning that his patience was near its end.

“You never let me have any fun,” I murmured and brought my blade down. Clive blocked it, and I saw his muscles quiver with the reverb of sword against sword.

He stared at me through locked blades, teeth gritted against the combined force of me and the monster he didn’t know existed.

“You smell like wolf,” he said. “Do you think that makes you special? Whoring yourself to a shifter?”

“None of us are special, Clive. We’re all just vampires.”

“You don’t really believe that.”

I stepped back, let my blade fall. This point, if no other, had to be made. “I absolutely believe that.”

Thinking I’d conceded, he stepped forward. I spun around him, kicked the back of his knee. Too surprised to catch himself, Clive hit the ground, sword skittering away. What hadn’t worked on Levi, ironically, worked on his brother. About damned time.

And then the tip of my katana was at his neck.

Clive went still—supernaturally still—but his eyes shifted, rose along the blade until they met mine.

“Yield,” I said, lips curled in predatory victory.

His eyes went wide, then narrowed. “Are you too scared to kill me?”

“You are an idiot,” I said quietly. “I’m not going to kill you. Not when I’ve got you on the ground.” I leaned down, just a little. “I beat you. And that’s more than enough for me.”

He opened his mouth for more invective, and I pressed the blade harder, just enough to have a line of crimson appearing at his throat.

I could see it in his eyes. He may not have wanted to die, but he didn’t want to yield, either. Didn’t want to admit defeat, suffer the humiliation of it.

“Yield,” I said again, utterly calm. His eyes wheeled, looking for escape, considering options.

“Last chance,” I said.

“Fine,” he threw out, like a verbal strike. “I fucking yield. But the AAM isn’t done with you.”

“Oh, it’s done,” Nicole said, stepping forward. “And it’s done with you, as well.”

I stepped back, sword still pointed, while Nicole and her vampires rushed forward. They lifted Clive to his feet.

Then she moved closer, the scent of peaches and tingle of magic lifting in the air. And she looked at me in silence for what felt like a very long time.

“I am not entirely sure what you are, Ms. Sullivan,” she said quietly, so that only I could hear. “But you have acted honorably, even when others have not. I find that is a good test of character. To be absolutely clear,” she called out, pinning Clive with a glare, “this matter has been concluded, and the AAM has no further questions of Elisa Sullivan respecting the making of the human known as Carlie Stone.”

“Damn right you don’t!”

We all froze. I knew that voice. I knew that tone. I looked back, and found Carlie on the edge of the crowd.

There actually was a party on the House’s lawn. But it wasn’t strangers or friends of the House. It was Roger Yuen. My parents. Uncle Malik. To my surprise, Gabriel Keene and four more shifters. And, to my utter shock, Ronan, and four more vampires who I guessed were from his coven.

They’d come here . . . for me? To side with me, and stand by me, because they believed I’d done right, or that the result made up for my rule breaking.

My throat tightened with emotion, and I was perilously close to tears.

“We’re done,” I managed to say to Nicole, then left her behind, strode toward Carlie.

She’d . . . blossomed. There was no other word for it. Vampirism had a way of honing features down to their most beautiful renderings, and she was no exception. Pale skin, long dark hair, and a wide smile that was instantly endearing. Every feature enhanced just enough to make it difficult to look away.

I hope she considered becoming a stronger version of herself at least some payment for the pain she’d have suffered during the transition.

“Hi,” I said, feeling suddenly awkward. But her smile was brilliant.

“Hi!” Without hesitation, she wrapped me in a hug, squeezed tightly. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” I said with a bubbling laugh. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” she said when she stepped back, mouth pursed in a pout. “But I didn’t even get to unsheathe this thing.” She pointed to the dagger at her belt. “And I’ve been training.”

“Good! How’s that going?”

“With your vamp genetics, pretty damn good.” Her grin was wide and cheerful, and it tugged at my heart. She was so open, so willing to be vulnerable. That, I thought, made her exceptionally brave.

“Thank you for coming all this way,” I said, and the most important question occurred to me. “Why are you here?”

“To support you, just in case the AAM got handsy. In, you know, an assholey way. Ronan got a call.”

I glanced at Ronan, tall and dark skinned, with wide eyes and a thoughtful face. “A call?”