“Wait.” He nodded to the only remaining guard, who then mumbled into his headset.
“You wanted the privilege of choosing. I won’t deny you.” Cyrus dropped something hard and heavy into my hand.
When I uncurled my fingers, I gasped. The dragon pendant lay against my palm, but the diamond had been replaced by a huge ruby.
“Do you like it? I thought it was time for a change.” He pressed his lips to my cheek. “You have no idea how much it means to me, to have you at my side tonight.”
Two guards escorted Dahlia and Ziggy down the stairs. She looked triumphant and sure of herself. He looked terrified.
“Hey,” I whispered, giving him a small wave.
Cyrus stepped forward to inspect the pair. “Dahlia, you look lovely as ever.”
She shot me a smug grin, and then turned back to admire Cyrus. He moved on to Ziggy. His dapper appearance clearly impressed my sire. “Are you nervous?”
Ziggy shook his head.
“Good,” Cyrus continued. “There’s no reason to be.” He paced back and forth in front of them for a moment. “As you know, every year I must make a difficult choice. Of all my pets, two must survive this night to make our celebration complete. Still, only one may take the place of honor in our festivities. Until now, I’ve been charged with deciding who receives that honor.”
Dahlia’s eyes grew wide. “Until now?”
“Don’t interrupt the man while he’s talking,” Ziggy quipped. I shot him a warning glance.
Cyrus paused. “As I was saying. Until now, I’ve had to decide who receives that honor. This year, I have the pleasure of seeing my fledgling perform this office. Carrie?”
I stepped forward, and without hesitation, pointed at Dahlia. “Her.”
Cyrus raised an eyebrow. “Interesting choice.”
“Why do you say that?”
But he had already pried the pendant from my hands. Dahlia squealed and clapped her hands, then leaned forward, lifting her hair. Cyrus slipped the chain around her neck and stepped back.
“Master, the first course is ready.”
At the sound of the guard’s voice, Cyrus turned to me. “We don’t want to keep our guests waiting.” He held out his arm and I took it, casting a reassuring glance at Ziggy. Cyrus faced forward and Dahlia was so preoccupied with her new prize, neither of them saw me mouth stay close to him.
We stepped onto the terrace to a round of applause. A guard stopped Ziggy and Dahlia from exiting with us. The glass doors swung shut, leaving them inside.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Cyrus called, his voice cutting through the excited chatter. “Thank you all so very much for coming. It warms my heart to share this night with such good friends.”
There was a polite smattering of applause. I tried not to scan the garden walls for signs of the Movement. It had to be nearly time now. Nathan promised they would come tonight.
The cavalry didn’t show up. Not during Cyrus’s longwinded speech about the importance of tradition and the looming threat of extinction.
God, it’s like he’s running for office.
Finally, he ended with some sugarcoated platitude about old and new friendships, clapped his hands and signaled the guards waiting inside the French doors.
“As you know, our guests of honor will enter in a moment. Please remember that one of them is for the Soul Eater, and the other is our traditional first course.”
Dahlia and Ziggy joined us on the terrace. As I looked at her beaming face, a pang of guilt shot through me. She thought she’d been chosen for a great honor. I’d condemned her to a fate worse than death, once Jacob Seymour consumed her soul.
Cyrus waved Dahlia forward. I expected him to bite into her, to start the process so she’d be turned quickly for the Soul Eater.
Two guards stepped forward and grasped Ziggy by the arms. I assumed they prepared to throw him into the crowd.
Nathan, where are you?
I felt sick to my stomach as I saw Cyrus’s hand twine around Dahlia’s hair.
“Ladies and gentlemen, bon appétit!”
Then he threw Dahlia off the terrace.
Eighteen
The Soul Eater
Confusion flashed across her face as the vampires surged forward and seized her. She fought their greedy, clutching hands as she looked toward us. “Cyrus? What’s going on?”
My own panicked brain echoed her question.
“This was what you wanted,” Cyrus snarled at me before rounding on Ziggy.
“I thought you’d feed her to your father!” I gripped his arm, but I didn’t have the strength to stop him as he turned away from me.
“No fucking way!” Ziggy struggled against the guards and actually managed to break their hold. He fell to the hard stone, scrambling backward on his hands and feet like a frightened crab.
He didn’t get far.
“No!” I shouted as Cyrus descended on him. There was a sickening crunch as muscle and vein gave way under fangs. Ziggy’s agonized screams filled the air, a death rattle of blood gurgling from his throat.
I needed something, anything to use as a weapon. Ziggy’s cries slowed, then stopped altogether, and his body hung limp in Cyrus’s arms.
Dahlia faired much better. She shrieked a command and the vampires fell back in a wave. She ran toward the maze, never looking back. The Fangs followed her, whooping war cries as they disappeared into the dark hedges. The diners who were unaffected by Dahlia’s flight murmured in surprise and looked around uncomfortably.
Cyrus rose and left Ziggy unconscious where he lay. I watched, sickened, as Cyrus wiped a rivulet of blood from his chin and raised his arms. His roughened voice and savage vampire face made him seem more evil, if that were possible. “Ladies and gentlemen, enjoy the hunt.”
Behind us, the doors pushed open and a frantic group of humans flooded the terrace. They ran for their lives and would have trampled Ziggy, had I not knelt over him and shielded his vulnerable body.
“Ziggy, can you hear me?” I pulled him into my lap and pressed my hand to the oozing wound on his neck. Blood should have been spraying from his gashed throat, if there was enough blood left to spray. He opened his eyes, but they rolled back into his head as his body seized in my arms.
Most of the pets ran straight for the maze, herded toward it by the pursuing vampires. A few of the humans broke away from the crowd and were caught as they tried to climb the garden walls.
Cyrus watched for a long moment, something akin to pride on his face. Then he turned to us and raised his wrist. “Shall I turn him, or will you?”
“No!” I shouted again, trying to cover Ziggy by leaning over him, but my answer was swallowed up by the pandemonium. “I made a mistake. I wanted him to live.”
“Well, it’s not bloody likely now, is it?” Cyrus asked dispassionately. “Look, we’ll get you another one.”
Tears rolled down my cheeks, stinging my cold flesh. “This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.”
Cyrus frowned. “What are you talking about?”
He suspected something. Amid the screams and destruction around us, I let my guard down, my guilt and terror flooding the blood tie.
Over all this, a new sound emerged. The steady thump of rotary blades