So, Marlen got a couple punches in on me, one coming dangerously close to my eye. The other caught me in the stomach, knocking the air out of me for half a second. But most of the time, I was able to dodge him pretty well. This seemed to infuriate him. Getting beat up by a teenage girl didn’t really score you cool points when you were a Strigoi. At one point, I even faked him out in one direction and came at him with a surprise kick — easier to do than I’d expected in that damned dress-that knocked him back a few steps. I just barely managed to keep my hand in the door when I did it, but that was all I needed. His stumble gave me a few seconds to slip out the door and into the main hall. Unfortunately, when I tried to close it, he was already trying to come through. With my hands, I tried to pull the door shut while kicking him back inside. We struggled this way for a while, and thanks to whatever luck I had left, I got the door closed enough so that only his arm was sticking through. Bracing myself, I pulled the door toward me in one huge, forceful movement. It slammed into Marlen’s wrist. I half expected to see his hand detach and pop into the hall, but he’d jerked it back. Even Strigoi had certain instincts to avoid pain.

Gasping-my physical strength still wasn’t all it could be-I backed up. If he knew the code, this had been for nothing. A moment later, the door’s handle shook but didn’t open. I heard a scream of rage, and then his fists beat on the door.

Score one for me. No, score one for luck. If he’d known the code, I would have been Thud. Marlen was still beating on the door, and I saw the tiniest dent appear on the metallic surface.

“Oh, crap,” I said.

I didn’t stick around to see how many hits it’d take him to break it down. I also realized that even if I’d disabled the first lock, Dimitri would just be able to break that one down too. Dimitri…

No. I absolutely couldn’t think of him now.

As I ran down the hall, heading toward the stairs Dimitri and I traveled before, an unexpected memory suddenly popped into my head. When Dimitri had last threatened Nathan, he’d mentioned getting my stake out of a vault. What vault was that exactly? Was it here on the premises? If so, I certainly didn’t have time to look. When weighing the option to search a four-story house full of vampires or run off into the countryside before they found you… well, the choice was clear.

And it was in the midst of that thought process that I ran into a human at the top of the stairs. He was older than Inna and carrying a stack of linens that he dropped when we collided. With almost no pause, I grabbed hold of him and swung him against the wall. I had no weapon to threaten him with and wondered how I’d assert my will now. Yet as soon as I had him pinned, he threw up his hands in a defensive gesture and began whimpering in Russian. There’d be no attacks on me here.

Of course, now I had the problem of communicating what I needed. Marlen was still beating on the door, and Dimitri would be up in a couple of minutes. I glared at the human, hoping I looked terrifying. From his expression, I did. I attempted the caveman talk I had with Inna… only this time the message was a little harder.

“Stick,” I said in Russian. I had no clue what the word for stake was. I pointed at the silver ring I wore and made a slashing motion. “Stick.

Where?”

He stared at me in utter confusion and then asked, in perfect English, “Why are you talking like that?”

“Oh for God’s sake,” I exclaimed. “Where is the vault?”

“Vault?”

“A place they keep weapons?”

He continued staring.

“I’m looking for a silver stake.”

“Oh,” he said. “That.” Uneasily, he cast his eyes in the direction of the pounding.

I pushed him harder against the wall. My heart felt like it would burst out of my chest, but I tried to hide it. I wanted this guy to think I was invincible. “Ignore him. Take me to the vault. Now!”

With a frightened yelp, he nodded eagerly and beckoned me down the stairs. We descended to the second floor and made a sharp turn. The halls here were as twisty as the hedge maze Dimitri had shown me, all decorated in that gold and chandelier style, and I wondered if I’d even be able to get out of the house. Attempting this detour was a risk, but I wasn’t sure if I could get outside without being followed. If I was, there’d be a confrontation. I’d need to defend myself.

The human led me down another hall and yet another. Finally, we reached a door that looked like any other. He stopped and peered at me expectantly.

“Open it,” I said.

He shook his head. “I don’t have the key.”

“Well, I certainly don’t-wait.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out the keys I’d lifted from Dimitri. There were five keys on the ring. I tried them one at a time, and on the third one, I got a hit. The door opened.

Meanwhile, my guide was casting hasty glances behind him and looked ready to bolt.

“Don’t even think about it,” I warned. He blanched and stayed put. The room before us wasn’t very big, and while its plush white carpet and silver framed paintings made it look elegant, the room was… well, basically, it looked like a junkyard. Boxes and weird objects-a lot of personal items like watches and rings in particular-lay around in no order. “What is this?”

“Magic,” he said, still obviously scared out of his mind. “Magic items kept here to fade or be destroyed.”

Magic… ah. These were items charmed by Moroi magic. Charms always had some kind of effect on Strigoi-usually unpleasant-with stakes being the worst, since they used all four physical elements. It made sense that Strigoi would want to isolate harmful objects and get rid of “My stake!”

I ran forward and picked it up, nearly dropping it because my hands were so sweaty. The stake was lying on top of a box with a length of cloth and some weird stones. Studying it, I realized it wasn’t actually my stake-not that it made a difference for killing Strigoi. This stake was almost identical, save for a small geometric pattern running around its base. It was something guardians did from time to time if they felt particularly attached to their stake: have a design or initials etched into it. Holding this stake, I felt a momentary pang of sadness. This had belonged to someone who’d wielded it proudly once, someone who was now most likely dead. God only knew how many other dozens of stakes were in here, seized from other unfortunate prisoners, but I had no time to search or mourn those who had died.

“Okay, now I want you to take me to…” I hesitated. Even with a stake, it’d be a lot better for me if I didn’t face any more Strigoi. I had to assume there’d still be a guard at the front door. “… Some room on this floor with a window that actually opens. And is far from the stairs.”

The guy thought for a moment and then gave a quick nod. “This way.”

I followed him through another maze of twisting corridors. “What’s your name?”

“Oleg.”

“You know,” I said. “I’m getting out of here… if you want… if you want, I could take you with me.” Having someone else-a human, particularly — would definitely slow me down. Yet, my conscience wouldn’t let me leave anyone behind in this place.

He gave me an incredulous glance. “Why would I want to do that?” Sydney had definitely been right about humans making great sacrifices for immortality. Oleg and Inna were living proof.

We rounded a corner and came face-to-face with an elaborate set of French doors. Through the etched glass, I could see book-lined shelves, stretching all the way up the walls. A library-a huge one that extended on and on, out of my sight. Better yet, I saw a large bay window opposite me, framed in heavy satin curtains the color of blood.

“Perfect,” I said, pushing open the doors.

That was when the nausea hit me. We weren’t alone in the room.