Dimitri hauled her, none too gently, into the sanctuary and up onto the dais, beside the altar. Meena did not like the way the Dracul-including Shoshona and her aunt and uncle-had gathered around, as if eager for a show that was about to start.

Nor did she like what she suddenly recognized sitting on the still upright part of the altar.

It was a bowl from Meena’s own apartment. The large antique one made of pewter her great-aunt Wilhelmina had left her and that Meena never used because she was worried about lead poisoning.

First the bag Lucien had given her. Then her job. Now her great-aunt’s bowl. What else were the Dracul going to take from her?

“I understand you possess quite the power to predict the future, Meena Harper,” Dimitri said in his deep voice.

Suddenly, Meena had a very bad feeling about what was about to happen.

Especially because of the way all of the Dracul were eyeing the holes Lucien had already put in her neck-which were obvious to everyone because Meena had given Alaric the scarf she’d been wearing to cover them-and then glancing down expectantly toward the large silver-colored bowl. The hungry look in their eyes seemed to increase by a hundredfold.

Dimitri was right about one thing: Meena had always been good at predicting the future. Other people’s futures.

Never her own.

Until now.

Meena looked up at Dimitri. He was staring down at her with those flat brown eyes, in which she saw more than just a hint of blood red.

Then she glanced up at the enormous dragon symbol someone had spray-painted behind the altar.

Ever since I left you this morning, Lucien had said to her last night in her bedroom, I’ve had the oddest sensation that I know how almost every human I’ve come into contact with is…is going to die… I’ve never, ever experienced anything like this. Not until…well, being with you.

Now, Meena knew exactly what the bowl was for…and why Dimitri had been so intent on getting her to come up to St. George’s. It wasn’t just because he wanted to lure his brother there, to trap and kill him.

Although certainly that would be an added bonus.

No, Dimitri wanted her for something else.

He wanted her blood, for a little precoronation precognition cocktail.

Meena flung a hand to her mouth to avoid letting out a semi-hysterical scream.

And then, before she had a chance to think twice about what she was doing, she reached into her back pocket for Alaric’s stake with one hand, then used the other hand to stabilize herself on the altar while she launched her right foot, as hard as she could, into Dimitri’s face.

Too bad she was only wearing flats and not her platform boots. Still, she seemed to manage to catch him off guard, since he bent at the waist while crying out in pain, clutching his face.

There was a collective gasp from the Dracul.

Yes! She’d done it! She’d caught a vampire off guard!

She came at him with the stake while she had the advantage, determined to plunge it into his heart and end this, all of it, once and for all, forever. Save herself and her brother and her friends.

This was for Yalena and for Leisha and for what they’d done to her apartment and for whatever they intended to do to Cheryl and Taylor and everyone else at Insatiable…

Except that Dimitri, still bent over in pain, shot out a lightning-fast hand and seized her wrist-the one holding the stake-in a grip that was like iron.

And then he began squeezing her wrist so hard that Meena, tightly as she tried to hold on, eventually had to let go. Alaric’s stake fell with a clatter to the marble floor of the altar and rolled off and away, until it was out of sight.

But still, he didn’t stop squeezing, even when Meena cried out in pain, collapsing to her knees in front of him and the Dracul and the altar and everyone, convinced he was going to shatter every last bone in her wrist…

“Do you think because you can see death before it comes that you can outwit me, Meena Harper?” he asked her, looking down at her with eyes that glowed red as hot barbecue coals. His teeth had turned into pointed fangs, and they were suddenly entirely too near Meena’s throat for comfort. “Or are the rumors true and you can read the thoughts of the dead, as well? Is that how you’ve managed to captivate my brother so?”

Read the thoughts of the dead? No wonder they were so desperate for her blood.

“No,” she said with a gasp. “I can’t read anyone’s thoughts, living or dead. I can only how tell how someone is going to die-”

Dimitri smiled, his fangs gleaming menacingly in the candlelight. “Oh, my dear,” he said. “I think you overestimate yourself. Because if that were true, why on earth would you have come here tonight?”

Her eyes filled with tears from the pain he was inflicting on her wrist and the fact that those fangs were looming closer and closer to her throat.

This is it., Meena thought, closing her eyes. It’s finally my turn to find out if there’s anything beyond that nothingness…

That’s when she heard someone shout Dimitri’s name in warning. And she opened her eyes to see something huge and heavy and black come swooping down on a rope from the choir loft, striking Dimitri Antonescu squarely in the chest and sending him crashing into the dragon symbol spray-painted behind the altar.

Dimitri was so surprised, he let go of Meena’s wrist…but only just in time to keep from dragging her across the altar with him.

Alaric Wulf, releasing the rope and landing on his feet a few yards away from where Meena lay panting on the cool white marble, surveyed his sword blade.

“Damn,” he said. “I missed.”

Meena, more relieved than she could say to see him, sat up.

“What do you mean, you missed?” she asked. “You almost chopped my head off.”

Alaric pointed at where Dimitri was rising from the crumbling rubble and had just let out a furious, wordless scream.

“I mean I missed him,” Alaric said. Then he glanced over his shoulder. “And they don’t look too happy to see me either.”

The Dracul, outraged at the assault on their leader, were swarming at Alaric, hissing in protest. He lifted his blade in defensive. Meena crawled across the sanctuary floor toward him, favoring her tender wrist.

She knew it was hopeless, of course. They were both dead. There were probably a hundred Dracul against the two of them.

Still, she wasn’t going to let him go down alone. There had to be something she could do.

Only what? She’d lost the stake he’d given her, her single weapon.

Alaric seemed to be thinking along the same lines. “Did you have any kind of plan when you came sneaking in here?” he asked her as he swung his blade at the encroaching vampires.

“No,” Meena said when she reached his feet. “Did you?”

“No time,” he said. “Reach into my pocket. There might be some holy water or stakes left in there.”

She rose to her knees, searching the pockets of his leather trench coat as he waved his sword around.

“No,” she said, disappointment surging through her. “There’s nothing there.”

“I told you not to follow me,” Alaric said. “Didn’t I?”

“You did,” Meena admitted. “But I couldn’t sit back and let everyone die.”

“So.”

They both looked over at Dimitri, who was standing a few feet away from them, a very discontented look on his face. He had obviously not enjoyed being kicked into a wall by a Palatine guard.

“As I think you can see, you’re outnumbered.” Dimitri raised a dark eyebrow. “A bit like when you and your partner were in that warehouse outside of Berlin, eh, Mr. Wulf?”

“That was you?” Alaric looked furious. “I swear, I’ll rip you limb from limb for that, you-”

“Don’t be so childish,” Dimitri said with a laugh. “You Palatine are all the same. Arrogant. Always thinking you’re one step ahead of us. But even with all your fancy modern computer equipment to track our movements and our money, we’ll still find ways to slip through your fingers and prevail…because of your arrogance. And your stupidity. It’s because of your stupidity that we’re going to kill the pregnant woman now.”