The guard outside the door was familiar. "He's the glamour," I gasped at Luna. She locked on to the guy like a Titan missile.

The guard turned his head, had enough time to say "What?" and went down like a sack full of nails. Luna shook her fist out, knuckle bones popping back into place.

"What was that?" Nielsen said from behind the door.

Bentley stuck his head out. Luna wrapped her hands around his throat before he could say or see anything other than her face. "Lock my cousin in a cage?" she growled, and then threw him back into the visitor's room, where he bounced off the table and into the wall with a clang.

Nielsen stood up, reaching for her necklace clasp. Bentley drew his knife and Luna grabbed for it, the two of them wrestling. Trotter looked at the four of us, eyes wide.

"Don't," I said to Nielsen.

Her lips curved up. "Don't what, Sunny? Don't kill you? Don't take out one of the few witches who could be a problem to me while I have such a perfect chance?"

"Don't kill him," I said, pointing at Trotter. Nielsen moved her hands away from the clasp of her necklace.

"You know, considering how tricky you are when your magick is up, I think we'll do this the old-fashioned way." She picked up Bentley's knife from where Luna had beaten it out of his hand and advanced on Trotter.

I froze, watching the scene play out in my mind. Blood spatter, Trotter twitching in his cuffs, the glamour coming to take his place…

Nielsen put the knife to Trotter's throat. "Do something!" he screamed at me.

I've been in exactly two fights in my life: with Joey Grant, an odious boy who threw my sandwich into the sandbox in first grade, and Mary-Anne Price, the girl in middle school who started calling me "Blood-freak." She was a lot bigger than me, and she won. I got a black eye and would have gotten worse if Luna hadn't pulled her off me and broken her nose.

Luna and Bentley were still fighting, he powered by blood and she by rage. I was on my own.

This sucked.

I had no magick, and all I could hear was my heart beating. Nielsen pulled Trotter's hair back and put the knife to his throat. And she smiled at me, like she knew I had no hope of winning.

Something inside me snapped. I lunged for Nielsen and caught her around the waist, knocking her away from Trotter. She fought me off, long manicured nails scratching for my face, and I balled up my fist and hit her, right in the eye.

"Ow!" Nielsen shrieked. "That hurt!"

My fist twinged and there was blood on my knuckles. Luna made that look so easy.

I grabbed Nielsen's necklace and pulled. "That's the idea."

The cord snapped, and I felt the magick flood back over the room. I'd let Nielsen's power free, but my magick came back to me, hot and white with the adrenaline in my blood. I looked at Trotter. "Do you want to die?"

"No!" he yelled.

"Then you better help me," I ordered, and reached for my caster.

Nielsen's power came up at the same time, and it was like standing under a thirty-foot wave. I threw up a shield, a wall of pure energy, and I felt Trotter's join me. He wasn't very strong, but he had precise control.

Nielsen laughed. "This is great. You really think you're going to hold me off until what? The cavalry comes? ASA Nielsen can make you all look like a bunch of crooked cops and crazy witches, and Ginger will make sure that if that doesn't work, your bodies will never be identified."

She pushed again, and I staggered, feeling blood come from my nose. Nielsen was laughing. Trotter and Luna were screaming at me, but I couldn't hear them.

Nielsen could beat me. She could beat me easily and she knew it. I gasped, going to one knee, and let my shield crack, just a little.

"Gods!" Trotter yelped. "What's going on?"

I watched Nielsen through my lashes as she closed on me. "She's weak, is what," Nielsen said. "And you're next. Ginger can't be stopped."

I gathered my magick to me, in a tight, hot ball of shield. I was going to get only one shot at this.

"Ginger is going to kill you, Sunny Swann," Nielsen singsonged. "How do you feel about that?"

I met her eyes. "Bitch, please. We all know that's not your natural color."

My magick flew from my caster, singing through the air and spreading like a battering ram, catching Nielsen's burgeoning shield. It threw her backwards into the wall, smoke coming off her caster and her hands. I kept pushing her until there was nothing left and I fell on the floor, for real.

The next thing I remember is seeing Luna standing over me, blood running from her cut lip, grinning.

The prison doctor patched us up and declared us fit to leave. Luna radioed for someone to collect Nielsen and Bentley, who looked like he'd been slammed repeatedly into the grille of a Mack truck, and the U.S. Marshals to move Trotter to a different prison. He barely looked at me as we went by his holding cell, and I sniffed, "You're welcome."

"You did good, Sun," Luna said when she came over to the car. I was sitting on the hood, letting the sun warm me. I ached all over from the fight with Nielsen, and my head buzzed as my drained reservoir of power echoed inside.

"I learned from you," I said. Luna waved it off.

"No. You've got a lot of spine, kid. You should let it out more often."

"Luna?" I said, sliding off the hood and opening the passenger door. "It's been fun, foiling a magick conspiracy and all, but if you ever hear me suggest that I should do something like this again, do me a favor?"

She dug in the glove compartment for a pair of sunglasses. "What?"

"Shoot me before I can say yes."

"Fair enough."

I settled back against the seat and shut my eyes. "I did pretty much kick ass, though, didn't I?"

Luna laughed as she started the motor and pulled onto the highway. "You want some tights to go with that cape and cowl?"

"Oh, Hex you."

"Hey, I'm just saying…"

I let her talk while we drove back toward my real life, mundane and magickal only in ways that didn't hurt. I wasn't going to start running around protecting the weak, but the small warm thought grew in my mind that I'd used my magick down and dirty, gotten into a fight, and felt the euphoria of life-or-death.

And I gotta admit, I kind of liked it.

DARK SINS

Jenna Maclaine

Venice, 1818

My body hit the wooden floor with a loud thud. I'm not sure if it was the fall that knocked my breath from my chest, or the naked man who landed on top of me. Either way, I was left lying on the cold floor, blinking up at the ceiling, and trying to drag some air back into my lungs. I don't have to breathe, you understand, but it's one of those human quirks, like a love for whiskey and chocolate, that being dead just doesn't change. You see, I'm a vampire.

"And a very bad witch," I muttered, trying to push Michael's body off of mine.

He groaned and rolled to one side. "You are not a bad witch, love. But I think you might have dislocated my knee that time."

I gave him an arch look. "Where the hell are our clothes?" I asked.

We both sat up and looked back at the bed. Sure enough, there were our clothes, lying on the sheets as if our bodies had simply vanished from them. Which they had.

"Oh, damn," I spat. "We were supposed to end up naked in the bed, and the clothes were supposed to end up on the floor!"

Michael smiled at me indulgently, his blue eyes twinkling. "Yes, dear, I know. You're getting better, though. We were just a few feet away this time."

I growled in frustration as he stood, scooped me up, and tossed me on the bed. He started at my right ankle and began slowly kissing his way up the inside of my leg.