I stopped a few feet from the warehouse door.

Along the way, I hadn't seen either Zil or Zaamee, and neither was outside. Suspecting they were already in there, I tried to prepare myself for going back into hostile territory.

I started for the door.

"It knows you are here."

I exhaled sharply. Zil was behind me, his hands in his front pants' pockets. His odd eyes glinted in the moonlight. "Why are you not still cleansing?"

"I'm cleansed."

An eyebrow rose. "Are you?"

"Never mind that! That was unfair, you sneak! You left me behind to do the hunt without me."

"No, we did not. I heard your thoughts and came here to see if you would actually risk putting aside your protection from possession, and you did. Ashe, you are not strong enough to face that evil alone."

"What do you mean 'possession'?"

"Being overtaken by the ghost."

The thought of that happening frightened me, but I refused to show it. "No – you're not talking me out of this! If you're so concerned about protection, then you go and sit in the sage smoke! I got out of it what I needed, and I plan to go inside – right now!"

"That is where you are wrong." He took a step closer to me. "What were you thinking? You are only mortal. Do you really believe you can defend yourself against a formidable opponent such as that – defenseless one?"

My teeth clenched. "I'm not defenseless!"

Zil's only answer was silence.

I marched up to him. "Then, change me. Make me into what you are and I won't be defenseless!" I stopped myself from saying more. While I did want more involvement with the Underground, with the guarantee that I wouldn't be harmed by any of them, it didn't stop me from thinking my tongue should be cut out for saying something so impulsive and stupid – because the desire for more involvement didn't mean I wanted to become a permanent fixture.

Zil's arrogance melted. "No."

Pretending victory over his obvious self-control, I started past him to the warehouse. "I knew you'd back down."

Eyes flashing, he caught me by my arm and turned me to face him. "You do not know what you are asking! I cannot and will not do it!" He released me. Then, seemingly calmer, he said, "Please, do not say that again."

He took a few steps back and turned slightly from me.

At a loss for what to do, I looked down and saw something on the ground, shining in the moonlight. I looked closer – a piece of glass. I glanced at Zil ... he was still brooding. Despite his promise of protection, and adamant refusal to make me into a vampire, I'd take the risk. I scooped it up, straightened, and holding my breath, I balled my fist ... and squeezed.

Remarkably, there was almost no pain when it sliced my flesh.

I opened my palm. Blood started to come.

Watching closely for his reaction, I held my arm straight out to where he could easily see it, fingers splayed. The sticky, red fluid began to flow over the sides of my hand and spill to the ground, creating a soft, rhythmic pitter-patter noise, the only sound to break the stillness.

Zil gradually turned, his gaze riveted.

Ignoring how my heart pounded, I looked at my wound. "Tell me now what you want. Defy this, the thing you most desire, Zil, and keep me from having what I want – to take on that ghost with the strength of an Underground being." I looked back up at him slowly. "Can you?"

His eyes, turned paler, glittered, and his fangs were visible as he hissed, "You play dirty!"

In a treasonous act against myself, against the fear created by what I'd done, I cupped my hand. My blood pooled and began to seep through my fingers and trickled to the ground. In a subtle dare, I tilted my chin. "Drink from my hand. I'll change and then we both get what we want. It's a win," I paused dramatically before finishing, "for both."

He snorted. "Win? Who wins? You will not. I will not. You clearly do not know what you are saying."

"I don't? Isn't this what you hunt for?" I asked, beginning to feel uncertain.

"Yes. But not from you." Zil's eyes returned to normal, and he reached down to the bottom of his shirt and tore off a piece. "Allow me to wrap your wound."

He took my hand and carefully bandaged it. Unexpectedly then, he brought it to his lips and kissed the wrapped area tenderly. When he finally raised his hooded eyes to mine, all I could see was pain. "I know what you are trying to do and why you believe it would be best. But Ashe, I do not agree. I have been in both worlds – one longer than the other. I know what it is to want something badly, or to believe so, and to do anything to have it. But, chere, you do not want this. There is too great a sacrifice. If I take your blood, there is no guarantee you will live through it. I do not have the right to take your life from you. You are so young. I envy that."

It was clear that enticement wouldn't sway his decision, so I decided on a more logical approach, even though I didn't understand why I was pushing so hard for it. "If you change me, I won't be defenseless, and you won't have to be there to protect me all of the time."

He released my hand. "Your naiveté is alarming. You would need me more than ever, being at your most vulnerable as a new vampire. You will also have to avoid pointy, wooden objects, and all sunlight, as both will have devastating effects as never before ... and you will have to say farewell to your family. They cannot know of your new life. To listen outside the door as your mother cries for you is much worse than you can imagine. On my first night back, I wanted to see her. But because I had been made into what I am now, I could not let her see me. When it was very late, like a thief, I stole back to my childhood home and went to her window. I peeked through ... she was still awake. It was terrible, my mother's anguish. Tormented by it, I risked everything and stayed until the very last second before sunrise because I could not bear to leave her. In my quietest moments, I can still hear her crying." He paused before adding quietly, "They believe you to be dead, and to them, you must be. Not even a chance meeting."

I whispered, "You already know I live with my aunt, that I buried my parents."

"It will still tear away at your heart. And you will have to say goodbye to Rhys. You do not think so now, but one day he will grow weary of this hobby ..."

"It is not a hobby."

Zil continued, "And, with a heavy heart, you will be forced to stand by and watch as he will have no other choice but answer to that which will be natural to him. As he turns his back on you and re-enters the mortal world, he will promise to keep your secret. At that moment, you will know if he does not, you will be compelled to do the unthinkable. Tell me, Mon chere, would you be able to do that?"

I'd lost the argument.

Looking satisfied at the point he'd made by using my friendship with Rhys against me, Zil said, "Let us go back. With any luck at all, Zaamee will never know you left." He picked me up. Within seconds we were back at the graveyard.

Outside of the still smoldering sage bundles, Zil set me down. I reentered the square and picked up the candle I'd left behind. At the very moment I sat on top of the center boulder, the columns of smoke began to billow faster, the pillars became thicker, and the forming cloud began to swirl in a fast circle until I was fully enveloped within it.

"What about the warehouse?" I asked.

"We will face that together, but not tonight. For the magic of the sage to properly purify you, it needs to coax out the negative energy and cannot do so if you are talking."

"'Shut up' takes less time to say."

Zil looked past me. "Ah, Zaamee! You have returned."

I looked over my right shoulder to see her walking laggardly toward us. "Rhys' cleansing is complete." Suddenly, her eyes became a sharp, suspicious. "The smoke is still high."

Through the haze, she looked at my bandaged hand and then glanced at Zil with a look I couldn't decipher. With renewed energy, she came to me. "It appears you were more affected than what I thought."

"How did it go with Rhys?"

I felt she could see right through me. "Fine. Often it's less challenging to perform a cleansing if the person is asleep. They're much easier to work with. Since your cleansing should have been nearly completed by now, I'll need to heal your wound and then speed things up."

I balked. "Speed things up? How?"

One at a time, Zaamee went to each abalone shell, removed it from where it was, and carried them to the boulder to place on all four sides of where I was seated – one behind me, one in front of me, one on my left, and the last to my right. Then she walked to the headstone and removed a brown cloth satchel from her pocket. She opened it carefully and dipped her fingers into it. With them pinched together, she brought her hand out and sprinkled something across the top of the stone. It was dirt.

Again, she reached into the folds of her dress and removed a white candle. She placed the unlit candle in the center and then, in turn, went to each of the three benches to adorn them in the same manner. After she'd finished, she faced me directly. "Fresh earth from a new grave, and a purity candle. Let us begin."

Zaamee then came and gently took from me the candle she'd given me to hold. She closed her eyes, and chanting, began to circle the boulder I was seated on. As she approached each bench, the candle on top of it seemed to wait for her to pass, and then ignited – on its own! The candle she held was the last one to light.

After completing a full rotation, and with each waxed wick burning brightly, Zaamee came to stand before me. She extended her hand, palm up. "Place your wounded hand in mine, palm down."

"Why? What are you going to do?" I slurred. Seduced by Zaamee's magic, my thoughts had become distorted and my movements slowed.

She repeated her request.

My hand involuntarily moved and settled onto hers. I felt a strange tingling ... and then it went away.

Her voice sounded distant, "Now, you are healed." From somewhere, I could hear the soft droning of bees as my body began to numb.