Then, they descended from the trees above us—six newlings; all punks, all rogues, all ravenous.

Eli shoved me—hard. “Get down, Riley!” he ground out. I flew several feet away and landed on my backside. I jumped right back up and ran to stand beside the one person I knew would let me fight—Noah.

Eli growled. It almost made me laugh, how protective he was. Even after seeing me fight, he still wanted me out of the fray. The newlings lunged, Eli swore in French, and the fight began.

I quickly learned why Eli was so concerned; they all seemed to hone in on me. I’m talking long-jawed, fangs dropped, faces grossly distorted, hideousness. Slobbering and rabid, they all lunged straight for me. Eli grabbed one by the throat and threw him against a tree. His body hit hard, but in a split second he was up, eyes seeking me out.

It gave me just the time I needed to grasp the blade from my back sheath, aim, and fling it at him. I threw hard. The blade hit its mark and pinned him to the tree.

He screamed in agony; I ignored him and turned to the others.

All of my vamps had changed. I tried not to focus on that.

I found Seth and we stayed back-to-back; Jack, Tuba, and Zetty formed a circle and did the same. Rogue vamps fell from the trees like flies. Where they all came from, I had no clue. I didn’t recognize even one of them from the fight club. They were rabid, out of control, and lunging almost faster than my vamps could catch them.

Seth whipped a blade directly at one I swear was no more than three feet away. My brother was strong, and the blade hit hard, knocking the she-vamp back at least ten feet. Another blade flew by; Zetty had thrown that one and damn, he was one strong man. The vamp he nailed flew back and over the wrought-iron fence of the cemetery. It lay there, writhing, screaming, gurgling, until finally, it was silent.

Some of the rogues looked barely older than Seth. It made me sick; I’d puke later. Now, we had to survive. I nailed four more with blades, one rapid-fire shot after another. I no longer waited to see if I’d hit my mark; I knew I had.

I glanced to my left; Noah, whose beautiful face had contorted into something I’d rather not remember, grabbed a rogue just as it lunged past him, headed directly for me. In one shake he’d snapped its head off—clean freaking off, like a dandelion head. He dropped the body and turned to me, eyes white, red pupil dead center.

I could’ve sworn his lips curled into a smile.

The count had lowered, and although the remaining newlings continued to lunge toward me, my vamps took them all. Jenna and Saul had a pair; Cafrey and Tate had another. Although it felt like hours, only minutes had passed.

Before I knew it, the fight was over.

Garr’s men came and collected the writhing, pawing, scratching newlings. That was a sight all its own. I had a hard time believing they could be detoxed. But with Preacher and Garr, anything was possible. They left in a van, leaving us with the mess.

Eli was suddenly at my side, his flawless face returned to normal. His hands searched my body for injury; his eyes followed. When he was satisfied I wasn’t hurt, he pulled me into his arms and pressed his mouth to my temple. “You scared the shit outta me,” he murmured against my hairline. “Such a badass, huh?”

“Survivalist,” I corrected, but slipped my arms around his waist. His arms went around me, tightly, protectively. I confess I enjoyed it.

Luc approached. “All mostly mortals accounted for?”

Seth chuckled, and he, Jack, Tuba, and even Zetty murmured, “Yeah.”

“Good,” Luc said, and glanced around. “Let’s clean this mess up and make like a tree and get outta here.”

One more thing I hated about killing vamps: cleanup. You did not leave vampire waste lying around. It was a valuable hoodoo ingredient, and we salvaged every dust bit possible. Not to mention, Preacher and Garr now both believed that even a small fraction of a vamp left behind would be potential for resurrection later on.

To that I say, No, thank you, Monster.

Cleanup took longer than the kill. By the time we finished, the first church bell tolled from St. Michael’s. It was six a.m., nearly light outside, and the group of us were toting around dusty vampire guts in ziplocks.

We hurriedly departed.

As we left the historic district, Eli ran on one side of me; Noah, on the other. Noah glanced over at me. “So,” the Charleston vampire said, mercury eyes catching the first rays of daybreak, “beautiful, huh?” He was referring to my earlier thought.

I shook my head and looked straight ahead. “Oh my God, the ego.”

Eli laughed beside me, grabbed my hand, and pulled me faster.

Noah’s voice trailed behind us. “You’d better keep a good grip on that hand, Dupré!”

He didn’t have to finish. I knew exactly what was on Eli’s mind.

Noah’s laughter followed us to the battery, where he turned and departed with his crew, back to the dregs of the city.

I later learned he preferred it there so to keep a closer eye on things.

Apparently, Noah Miles took care of disobedient humans just as much as rogue vampires.

As we entered Jake’s, we all filed in through the kitchen. Eli led me straight upstairs.

“I’m not going to ravage you this morning,” he said, smiling. “But only because we’ve business at Garr’s this morning.”

I looked at him. “Who’s staying here with us?”

“Josie will be here. Noah’s only a head-shout away,” he said, then frowned. “But I doubt you’ll need him.”

I gave Eli a slow smile. “Okay. Hurry back, then.”

He pulled me against him and kissed me long, slow, and just when my hands crept up his neck and into his hair, he pushed me gently away. “I’ll see you later,” he said, with another quick kiss and an even quicker exit.

I looked at the door he’d just left through and smiled.

Quickly, I showered and fell into bed. I slept. I needed it. Late afternoon arrived too soon. Once we all were ready and the mortals had eaten, we headed out to the city. This time, we walked the historic district before it grew dark. We strolled through the city market, and Eli and his brothers and sister visited with some of the Gullah women selling baskets. They all knew the Duprés; I could tell they thought fondly of them.

Soon, darkness settled over the city, and we headed out of the historic district.

Atop the city, we ascended the buildings; Noah and his group met us close to the old burned-out church where the fights took place.

Eli grabbed me and spun me around. His expression tight, he looked … angry. “You can’t imagine how I hate your going in here,” he said, his eyes searching mine. “Stay close, Riley. And watch yourself. I mean it. I don’t want to have to kill someone.”

“Don’t worry, Eli,” I said, and grazed his jaw. His eyes darkened at my touch. “I don’t exactly have a death wish, you know.”

“You guys ready?” Noah asked.

“Yep,” Phin answered, and he and Jack and Tuba pushed in ahead of us. Music thumped from inside the hollowed walls, and I knew tonight would be way different from the other night.

Apparently, they sparred at the fight club three nights a week and, after that third night, they chose—chose, and then fed. I was ready for it.

At least, I thought I was.

Noah suggested that Eli take Seth and Josie, Luc stay with me, Phin with Zetty, Noah with Jack and Tuba, and the rest scatter. Eli hesitantly agreed. We filed into the crowd, and I spotted the shade-wearing newlings immediately. They spotted me, too. I moved slightly away from Luc; I didn’t want them thinking I had backup in any form. Immediately, the one newling from two days earlier approached.

“I see you made it back,” he said, his lips curling into a grin that caused a shiver. “Jump in whenever you see opportunity.”

“You know I will,” I said, chin lifted.

I waited; I watched a few fights; I watched Eli over the crowd. Every time I looked at him, he was looking at me. How he kept his thoughts trained on the club, I had no idea. I tried not to dwell on it.

The fights were more vicious this night than the others.

The weak had indeed been weeded out.

Luc and I were standing close but not together. We’d all managed not to be linked and had stayed apart while at the club. It had taken some convincing, but Eli finally conceded and didn’t stand glued to my side. I guess he was sort of starting to trust my abilities.

Victorian, though, did not. He suddenly interrupted my concentration.

“Honestly, Riley. I don’t understand why you have to fight. Let the others do it. You’re too delicate, and I couldn’t stand the thought of your getting hurt.”

In my head, I answered. “You’ve apparently not seen me fight, Vick. I got it. No sweat. Besides, Eli wouldn’t let anything happen to me.”

“He’s good for something, I suppose. Still. Be careful.”

“Later, Vick.”

“I love that you have a nickname for me now. Makes me feel special.”

Victorian finally left me alone, and my concentration zoned back to the fights. Some kid hadn’t liked the way Seth had looked and had challenged him. We watched them spar now.

If that was what you wanted to call it.

I watched my baby brother take it all easy, slow, not show-offy like me. He reflected and ducked more than he fought; but when it came down to dirty business, Seth fought, and fought hard. I could feel his restraint with each punch, so much so that the ridges in his abdomen were flexing. He knew the force of his power, his tendencies, and no matter how much of a prick his opponent was, he didn’t want them too badly hurt.

I was proud of him for that.

Seth roundhouse kicked the guy, who was at least a foot taller than he was, right in the chest and sent him sprawling. The movement knocked several spectators back. Seth followed him down, choked him with one leg, and dared him to move. No rules meant no rules, and when the kid tried to buck Seth off, Seth popped him in the nose. I heard the bone break from where I was standing.

Seth won that fight, but it was his last.