This…thing wasn’t a person, though it wore a suit of flesh. It wasn’t a master, a lord, or a king of the underworld. It was emptiness. It was void. It was Death.

It dropped to a low crouch, and extended a long, pale hand to touch the tip of her chin.

Mikar started to advance, not able to help himself. If Eirikr hadn't firmly held him back, he would have entered the circle and stood between that thing and Diana.

“It’d kill you where you stand without a blink,” Eirikr whispered, his words coming out fast and low.

“It could kill her,” Mikar shot back.

“It won’t.” He sounded so certain. “She’s a Helsing.”

Mikar’s lips pursed, but he stopped fighting to get to her. For now.

Death paid him no mind, entirely focused on Diana. "I remember you. The last time such a spell was cast to get me here, you were right under me." Death sounded amused, glancing down to Chloe.

Mikar blinked. Diana had been dead? Or dying. That was hardly better. His heart skipped a beat.

“I’m honored you answered, Thanatos.” Diana seemed calm, but sweat was gathering on her forehead.

Death let go of her chin and rose with a chuckle. "Oh, you knew I would. The deepest, darkest pit of the underworld gets rather tedious. I enjoy your summonses. Well, I see a dying girl and a girl willing to die. I see blood, and salt and water to keep me away from your little friends.” Death’s smirk suggested that if it so wished, it’d get out of the circle and destroy them all without any effort. Mikar believed it.

“Yes. I see many things. But I hear nothing." Death stared pointedly at Diana, its gaze demanding, probing, challenging.

Diana lowered her gaze to her palms, biting her lip, uncertain.

"Do not tease. I have little patience, girl."

“I’m not my father,” she said. “I haven’t got his skills. You may find me wanting.”

Thanatos’s depthless dark eyes were set on her. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

Diana breathed deep, in and out, and opened her mouth.

The sounds coming out of her throat weren't real. They couldn't be. Mikar wouldn't have thought such a pure, powerful, clear voice could possibly exist. She sang. The valley was filled with her voice, responding to it, every bit of grass, every tree, every animal falling silent to listen to the ageless lullaby she sang. The elemental magic the witches were maintaining outside the circle erupted in colorful flames, dancing with her voice. Her voice was a spell. A curse. All here would live the rest of their lives haunted by the melody, seeking more to make sense of their lives.

When her voice quieted, Mikar realized he was on his knees. He wasn't alone. Everyone had fallen. All but Eirikr, and Death.

The Helsings weren’t vampires. Or at least, not just that. Long before the first of them had been turned, they’d been something else.

Sirens.

“Not your father?” Death tilted its head. “Certainly. Your father was pompous and controlled. He studied each note. You’re messy.” Death’s mouth wrapped around the word. “You taste of wildness, poison, and sex.”

Diana looked terrified. But Death was pleased, Mikar could tell. Beyond pleased. It was interested. In Diana.

Fuck.

“I will grant your wish today if you grant one of my own."

Diana only nodded.

"You will call me in a hundred years,” Death stated. “And a hundred years after that. Every century, till your last breath. Fail to do so, and I will not be so kind when next I stand in front of a Helsing."

Diana swallowed hard, but lifted her eyes to Thanatos, holding its gaze. "I swear it."

Death inclined its head, almost imperceptibly, and dissolved into the darkest mist once again, filling the circle with a fog so thick Mikar couldn't see anything inside it. Then an instant later, it was gone, all clouds cleared out.

First Meal

Death had disappeared, leaving only the scent of blood and a sense of dread behind it.

Diana still sat in the exact position where she'd been, to Mikar’s great relief.

However, Tris was spread out under the table, lying at an awkward angle, too still. Mikar couldn't hear any heartbeat.

Diana lurched to her feet, spent. From behind her, Gwen was the first to steady her. "You're all right?" Mikar joined them, taking Diana from Gwen’s hands.

The proud, strong woman fell against him, letting him hold her up. Absentmindedly, he rubbed his thumb on her shoulders.

“Tris…” She didn’t finish her sentence.

Tris’s huntsmen friends were already gathering around her.

“She should be fine.” Right? “You need some blood, and rest too.”

Diana shook her head. “Not yet. I want to see—”

Without any warning, a crash resounded in the clearing, thunderous in the silence. Before Mikar could understand where it came from, it slammed again, and Chloe's fist smashed through her ice casket.

"Oh my god!" Blair rushed to help Chloe sit.

Though she was inches away, Blair reached her after Levi, who was already breaking through the rest of the ice and sweeping Chloe into his arms, cradling her as though she was a child.

Despite everything, Mikar was still shocked to see her alive. Everything seemed fine, intact. Her chest was unmarked by so much as a blemish.

"I told you you weren't allowed to die on my watch, remember?" Blair pointed an accusatory finger at Chloe. "Don't you dare give me a heart attack like that!"

Eirikr stood at a distance, still seeming lost, not quite sure where to stand. Chloe looked over Levi's shoulder to him and smiled, her hand reaching out, beckoning him close. He walked to her then, and tentatively stroked her hair—a tender gesture he didn’t seem practiced in.

Mikar left them to it. This was their family time; he would have felt like an intruder.

“How’s Tris?” Diana asked weakly.

Mikar helped her balance herself as she walked to the other side of the circle. To his surprise, she let him, without a protest. Her concerned huntsmen friends parted ways to give her a look at the fledgling, who still lay unmoving, her head propped up on Jack Hunter’s knees.

"She'll need blood of..." Diana started.

Jack produced a flask. "I keep that handy," he replied. "It's from her father."

Mikar remembered that Tris was his cousin. Several moments passed, stretching painfully as they stood around her, waiting for her to awaken.

When born vampires died, their mortal shells froze in time, and they woke changed—although they needed to drink the blood of their ancestor to survive the transition. From years of experience on the hill, Mikar knew that the wait could be seconds, minutes, or in certain cases, days. Younger, weaker children took longer. And sometimes—rarely—they didn't wake up at all.

Chloe had left Levi's embrace to join them, her cheeks wet with tears as she clasped one of Tris’s hands in hers.

Dread pooled in the air as the moon rose to its apex over the lake. What if Thanatos had taken her permanently? Mikar knew it'd destroy a part of Chloe to know she'd indirectly been responsible for her friend's death. And it would also weigh on Diana for the part she’d played. Her features morphed into a mask of fright, confusion, and guilt.

Tris jolted awake, her eyes wild, sitting up and exhaling so deep her face contorted into a wordless scream. She blinked, looking around in confusion.

Mikar laughed. He couldn't help it. The relief was too great. To his surprise, the others joined in, chuckling as Tris lifted a brow. "You took your time, kid," he explained to the confused huntsman.

“Sorry to be a bother.” She rolled her dark eyes that turned silver under the moonlight. Jack handed her the vial of blood, that Tris uncapped and downed in one greedy gulp. "Dad tastes disturbingly good.” She wiped her mouth with her sleeve.

Her cousin grimaced. "Limit the incestuous innuendoes around me, if you would."

"Ew." Tris faked barfing. "Majorly gross. Only you would get your head in the gutter like that." Tris's hand went to her throat. "Oh. This isn't fun. I'm hungry. Well, you know. Thirsty.”

That must have been an understatement: newly made vampires were parched after the change. They needed to get her some blood, and soon.

“And you all smell like dinner.” She didn’t sound surprised, but her visible self-disgust wasn’t unexpected. Mikar had felt the same way about his new thirst for blood when he’d been turned. Most vampires did.

Before he could announce his intention to run to his place to bring her a bottle or two, Gwen had taken the soiled knife discarded on the ground and lightly slashed her forearm. "Here, you can drink from me."

“You might have wanted to clean the blade,” Diana murmured, grimacing.

Tris blinked up at the witch, her expression horrified, but then her eyes darted to the thin line of fresh blood. She opened her mouth, her tongue licking her dry lips. "You don't know what you're offering. I'm literally minutes old. I may not be able to stop myself."

“Whatever.” Gwen shrugged. "There are a bunch of people who will stop you here. You saved Chloe. You're a friend. Friends don't let friends go thirsty."

Tris looked up at Jack, then sat up higher to reach the offered arm. "Watch me," she told her cousin. He nodded, frowning at Gwen, as though he didn't quite approve, but couldn't, or wouldn't, say anything. Not when Tris's well-being hung in the balance.

And then, Tris drank.

Hunters and Prey

By some sort of miracle, everyone was alive. Alive and well. Diana was right here, half leaning on him, her heat providing him with a sense of comfort and completion.

Mikar's mind finally started working again. And he had approximatively a thousand questions.

For one... "How are you here?" he asked, turning to Eirikr.

It looked like he was the first to think to ask it. Everyone was suddenly paying attention to the ancient, who was braiding Chloe’s hair out of her face.