Insatiable

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.”

Meena’s heart flew into her throat. The hordes of Dracul crowding around her and Alaric

at the bottom of the dais parted a little, and she saw that Leisha had been pulled onto her feet.

She stood with her arms being clutched on either side by Gregory Bane and Shoshona. They

were both grinning a little maniacally, but Leisha didn’t look too happy.

Maybe that was because Gregory Bane was hissing at her, showing off his fangs.

“Stop it,” Meena said, climbing shakily back to her feet. Her wrist was throbbing, and

her head wasn’t feeling too good, either. “I’ll give you what you want.”

She limped to the altar and lifted the pewter bowl, which shone in the candlelight.

“Meena,” Alaric said. His bright blue eyes shot her a warning. He shook his head at her.

No. Don’t do it.

But Meena knew it wasn’t any use. She had failed. Alaric had failed. Lucien obviously

wasn’t coming, for whatever reason, or he’d have been there by then.

It was over. It was useless.

It was done.

Her toes were on the precipice.

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