Part of me knew I shouldn't be able to see anything this clearly, but for some reason my night vision was even better than usual. I could see Adam staring over my head, his muzzle wrinkled and his eyes brilliant yellow lit with rage that promised death.
I rolled my head a little so I could see what Adam was looking at. All I saw was Stefan.
The vampire had threaded his fingers through the bars a few inches above my hand. He had a cut on his hand, a wide open slash that was pouring blood. Some of it caught on the bars, but most of it slid down his fingers to drip on the floor. My neck and cheek were wet with it.
I licked my lips and tasted something that might have been blood—or it might have been the finest elixir of some medieval alchemist. One moment it tasted like blood, iron and sweet, and the next it burned my tongue.
Sparks glittered in the dark blood on the bars and sizzled on his skin where it touched the cage.
His face was hidden against his upright knee. "It's done now," he murmured.
I pulled back from the cage and then pushed awkwardly with my single good hand at his smoking limb, which was very cool to the touch, shoving Stefan back inside, away from the bars.
Slowly, he pulled his hand in toward his body and then raised his head, shutting his eyes when the dim lightbulb, freed from the odd effect of the cage's sorcery, came back on.
"It'll only last for a little while," he told me. "You're still hurt, so be careful not to damage yourself more than you can help."
I started to ask him a question, but Samuel howled and Adam, turning his attention away from Stefan and I, joined in the chorus. As their cries died away, I heard someone coming down the stairs. It sounded like Littleton was dragging something.
I dropped back to the ground, my hair over my face to hide it—only then realizing that I felt better. A lot better. Amazingly better.
One of the hallway doors was pushed open with a crash. Through the curtain of my hair I watched Andre fly through the doorway and land in an ungraceful heap on the floor.
Littleton liked to throw things.
"You didn't do it right," the sorcerer complained as he dragged a limp red werewolf through the doorway by one hind leg. "You have to do what I tell you. I didn't tell you to kill the wolf, it's not even midnight yet. You are not going to ruin my fun with an early kill."
He looked over at us, or rather at Stefan. I closed my eyes most of the way, and hoped my hair hid them well enough that he didn't realize I was awake.
"I am sorry," he said contritely as he approached Stefan, still dragging Ben. "I haven't been much of a host. I didn't realize you were thirsty or I'd have provided a meal. But then I suppose I just did."
He dropped Ben in front of me, then nudged me with a toe. "I might have played a little with this one," he said with a sigh. "But humans don't last as long anyway. Maybe I'll bring in a few more for food for you though. It might be fun to turn them loose in here and make you call them to you."
Ben wasn't dead, I could see his ribs rising and falling. He wasn't healthy either. There was a flap of torn skin on his hip that oozed blood, and one front leg bent oddly about two inches below the joint. I couldn't see his head because the rest of his body was in the way.
Littleton went back to get Andre. He picked him up and carried him like a lover as he brought him to the light in the center of the cages.
With Andre still in his arms, he sat down next to the light. He arranged the other vampire on the ground like a doll, pulling Andre's head on his knee. Andre's face was covered with blood.
I licked my lower lip and tried not to enjoy the buzz of vampire blood on my tongue.
Littleton bit himself on the wrist, giving me a glimpse of his fangs and then he put the open wound over Andre's mouth.
"You understand," he murmured to Andre. "Only you. You understand that death is more powerful than life. More powerful than sex. If you can control death, you control the universe."
It should have sounded melodramatic. But the fevered whisper lifted the hair on the back of my neck.
"Blood," he told the unconscious Andre. "Blood is the symbol of life and death."
Andre moved at last, grabbing Littleton's wrist and holding it to him, curling around it. Much as a starving Daniel had curled around Andre's wrist during Stefan's trial. I wished the lingering touch of Stefan's blood didn't taste so good.
Andre opened his eyes and looked up.
I expected his eyes to be glowing, as Daniel's had been. Instead they were intent. Like Adam's had been, his eyes were focused on Stefan.
Littleton was muttering in Andre's hair, his eyes closed. So I took a chance and shifted my body just a little, drawing Andre's gaze. When he looked at me, I moved an inch more so he could see the stake.
He closed his eyes again, then, abruptly let Littleton's arm fall away and he rolled to his hands and knees, somehow managing to shift so that Littleton was between us, his back toward me.
"Blood is life," said Andre in a voice I'd never heard him use. It drifted through the room like a mist and settled on my skin. "Blood is death."
"Yes." Littleton sounded dazed and I remembered how it had felt when Stefan fed from me. Until that moment I'd almost forgotten he had fed from me.
Littleton, unconcerned by my fears, said, "Blood is the life and the death."
"Who commands death?" Andre asked his voice calling for a response that my mouth wanted to form.
Littleton came up to his knees and I could see the imprint of his spine on the back of his shirt. "I do!" he shrieked. He reached over and grabbed Andre under the jaw and pulled the vampire where he wanted him. He bit down right over the top of the wounds he'd made in Andre's neck earlier.
It was the best chance I was going to get. I tried to surge to my feet and almost fell. One of my ankles wouldn't hold any weight, though it didn't hurt.
I didn't have far to go.
Bent over Andre, Littleton's ribs were clearly outlined on his shirt. Someone should tell him that thin people shouldn't wear fabrics that cling. I picked a spot between the delicate, arching bones, just to the left of his spine, and struck with my whole body, just as Sensei had taught me to hit.
If my ankle had been working, I might have managed it. Training worked against me and I instinctively tried to use my weight to help push the sharpened wood through. My leg collapsed under me and the stake only went in an inch before it stuck between his ribs instead of breaking through them.
Littleton jerked to his feet with an outraged cry. He struck out blindly, just missing me because I was already rolling away as fast as I could. Luckily I was faster than the vampire. I rolled until I bumped against the car battery powering the light.
"Bitch," Littleton hissed.
I felt my neck, but my sheep necklace was gone, lost when he'd thrown me across the room. While I was fumbling, the sorcerer leapt at me.
Andre grabbed him around the middle and they both crashed to the ground just short of me. Littleton managed to put Andre on the bottom and I saw that the stake was still embedded in his back.
I grabbed the car battery by its plastic handle and hefted it in my right hand. Grunting with the effort, I raised it above the struggling vampires and brought it down on the end of the stake.
The light, still attached to the battery, crashed to the floor, leaving the room in darkness once more. This time I had trouble seeing clearly—the benefits of Stefan's blood were fading.