It was still quiet, despite the evidence that a brutal fight had raged here not long ago. Streams of bullet holes dotted the floor and walls, punched through plaster and the remaining windows, shattering them. Dried blood was smeared everywhere, on the floor, laced across the walls; there was even a spatter of it on the ceiling, evidence that the two vampires who’d fought their way to get to me had left carnage in their wake. I swallowed hard, gripping Kanin’s dagger beneath my coat. Both of them had sacrificed so much to get me out.

The least I could do was destroy the evil that Sarren had left behind.

The door to the lab stood open, creaking on its hinges. No guards stood before it, no raiders, no Zeke smiling his awful smile. But sticking out of the wooden frame, glimmering in the dim light through the shattered windows, was a familiar sword.

My sword.

Warily, I edged forward, barely stopping myself from reaching out and snatching the blade from the wall. I couldn’t smell any humans nearby, and there was nothing on the ground or the sword itself to indicate a trap. Nothing seemed unusual or out of place, except a small scrap of paper, folded over and shoved halfway down the blade itself.

Carefully, ready to leap back if needed, I reached up, grabbed the hilt of my weapon, and pulled it from the frame.

It slid out easily, and I stepped back, waiting. When nothing happened, I glanced down, tore the slip of paper from the blade, and flipped it open.

I’m at the Pit, the note read, making my insides go cold.

Face me.

The paper fluttered from my hand and blew away down the hall as I closed my eyes, gripping the sword tightly with my other hand. All right, Zeke, I thought, swallowing the lump in my throat. Opening my eyes, I gazed out the broken windows to where a smaller, blackened building sat several blocks away on the corner. Of course, he would be there, just as Kanin had said. A place that was significant to us both. You’ve made your point. Let’s end this.

I didn’t swim below the city this time. I didn’t bother to hide my presence. Zeke knew I was coming; he was expecting me. I walked down the ramp and across the bridges, striding in plain sight toward the Pit, my sword strapped to my back and my face set into a blank, don’t f**k with me mask.

No one did. Humans took one look at me and quickly backed off, cringed away, or fled my presence entirely. Perhaps Zeke had told them I was coming. Perhaps the rest of the army was away, searching for Kanin and Jackal. No one stepped up to challenge me as I made my way over the rickety bridges and catwalks, ignoring the men and women who watched from the shadows, reeking of fear. That, and the scent of warm blood, stirred the Hunger, urging me to attack, to paint the platforms in red, to drench myself in it before I faced my enemy. I firmly shoved it down. I was here for one person, though if someone did try to interfere, they wouldn’t live long enough to regret it.

The Pit loomed before me at the end of the walk, the old theater where Zeke and I had first seen Jackal, several months ago. Back then, it had been a crumbling but still majestic brick building, its neon-red CHI AGO sign blazing against the night. That was before we’d rescued our group and set the Pit on fire. Now, the old building was blackened and charred, the roof had partially collapsed, and steel beams poked into the sky like the skeleton of an ancient beast. The CHI AGO sign had gone dark, never to be lit again.

I strode up the walkway and ducked through the window above the submerged front door…and stepped into the Pit.

The place was a mess. What was once the foyer was now a tangle of charred, broken beams, rubble, dangling wires and blackened walls. The walkways circumventing the room had collapsed and were now poking out of the water at odd angles. I picked my way over downed pillars, piles of brick, and scattered shingles, searching for a way into the grand hall. The stairwells leading to the upper levels had been destroyed or completely blocked off, so I followed the wall until I found a section I could climb. Ducking under a fallen beam, I stepped through the door frame and looked around in grim amazement.

I barely recognized the place. Before, this had been an enormous circular room filled with folding seats and aisles where raiders had gathered. I stood on the second-floor balcony, though most of it had collapsed to the flooded ground level, and chairs lay twisted and molding beneath the surface of the water. At the front of the room, a floating stage had once sat beneath an enormous red curtain—the spot where I’d seen my blood brother for the first time. The place where Jackal had stood and promised his raiders he’d find a way to make them immortal.

Now, it looked ravaged. The stage and curtain were gone, burned to nothing, and the once-majestic ceiling was charred and black. From where I stood, I could see that the rows of folding seats were now reduced to black metal frames. Part of the roof had fallen in, creating a giant crater in the center of the room, and water lapped sluggishly over the uneven floor.

Far overhead, past jagged beams and collapsed floors, I could see the sky. A faint blue glow filtered down through the hole, creating a hazy light in the center of the room and making me shiver. Dawn was close. Whatever I did, I had to do it fast.

Drawing my sword, I stepped onto the balcony, walked down the aisle of charred seats, and dropped to the first floor.

Water sloshed against my boots, soaking the hem of my coat as I made my way into the room, and got deeper the farther I went. By the time I reached the middle of the floor and the circle of hazy light in the center, it was up past my knees.

I paused, gazing around the darkness, searching for him.

It was quiet, the only sounds being the rhythmic lapping of water and the faint groans of the building above me. Nothing moved in the shadows. But I knew he was here. I could feel him, watching me.

“I’m here, Zeke,” I said quietly, knowing he would hear my voice, that he was close. I hoped that he could not sense the anguish stabbing me through the heart. “Let’s get this over with.”

There was a faint rustle behind me, and I turned just as Zeke dropped from somewhere overhead, landing with a splash several feet away. His machete was already in hand as he rose, his expression a vacant mask, the hazy light falling around him and making him glow. Meeting my gaze, he smiled, and the light caught the gleam of his fangs as he stepped forward.

I backed away, raising my katana, and Zeke gave an empty chuckle that made my skin crawl.

“Too easy, vampire girl,” he said. He shook his head and gave me a mock-sorrowful look. “You shouldn’t have come back. You should’ve left the city, gone after Sarren, and left me here. But you couldn’t do that, could you, Allie? Because you couldn’t bear the thought of leaving me like this.”

I swallowed hard, gripping the hilt of my sword, keeping the deadly blade between us. “I don’t want to do this, Zeke.”

He cocked his head, smirking. “You could always let me kill you,” he suggested. “Make it easy for both of us.”

“That’s not going to happen, either.”

“No? Why not?” The grin faded, and he turned serious.

“I would think it’s the least you could do, Allie. After all, I’m dead…because of you.”

It felt like he had punched me. I staggered away from him, ice spreading through my veins, and my voice came out choked. “That’s…that’s not true,” I protested weakly. “You don’t mean that, Zeke.”