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hear Tony telling the family that he’d arranged a last little Seeing for his prophet, and this time, she didn’t even have to do the work herself. I wondered if they planned to kill me here and carry me over to Peachtree, or if they’d simply overwhelm my mind and have me walk there like the proverbial sheep to slaughter. I wasn’t real keen on either plan.
    I licked suddenly dry lips. “Okay, here. Put this on and get your coat. Tuck your hair up.” Mike had left one of his many baseball caps on a storage shelf and I grabbed it, but no way was all that hair going underneath it. “We need to find somebody who has a coat with a hood you can borrow. You’re too easy to identify.” Maybe one of the Goths would loan us a cape. If I could make Tomas look different enough, he might be able to sneak away while the vamps were concentrating on me.
    â€œCassie, listen. There is — ” I never found out what Tomas had been about to say, because the door we’d just entered slammed open as if the lock wasn’t even there, and five huge vampires rushed into the room. They looked like a bunch of linebackers who had joined a grunge band — all bulging muscles and shoulder-length, greasy hair.
    For one frozen moment, we all stared at each other. Size is pretty much irrelevant when you’re undead, but Tony likes them big, I guess for the intimidation factor. It worked — I was intimidated. The fact that they weren’t bothering to hide their real faces under polite masks didn’t help. I knew what a vampire looks like when hunting — I’d seen it enough times — but it was still the stuff of nightmares. I had time to wonder if I’d live long enough to need to worry about bad dreams before they moved in a blur of motion. I got a shot off into one in the general area of his heart, but it didn’t stop him. I hadn’t thought it would. Not that it mattered : I hadn’t expected to rank five vamp assassins, and no way could I deal with those odds. Tony must be even more pissed than I’d thought.

Chapter 2
    T he gun was snatched from my hand and I was smashed into the mason-block wall, face first. In the same breath, my arm was wrenched up so far behind me that I was afraid it would break. I didn’t see what happened then because I was too busy getting a concrete facial, but I heard what sounded like every metal shelving unit in the place being turned over. Someone gave a roar of rage, then a swell of power billowed through the room like a hot wind, crashing against my skin in a hail of sparks. If I’d had enough breath, I would have screamed, both at the sensation and at the sheer pettiness of the bastard who wouldn’t allow me even a tiny chance of escape. Not only had Tony sent a whole squad of vamps after me, but at least one of them simply had to be a master. No one else could summon that kind of power, not even five ordinary vamps working together. And it wasn’t just any old master, either.
    Most vamps spend their immortal lives as little more than slaves, serving whoever made them without the ability to break away or to refuse an assignment. But some, usually those who were the strongest willed in life, over time gain power. When they reach master level, they can make other vampires to serve them, and are usually given some autonomy by their makers. Seventh level is the lowest master rank, and most never progress past it, but for those who do, each additional step up the ladder gains them new abilities and more freedom. I’d been around master vamps all my life, up to third-level ones like Tony, and I’d seen plenty of them lose their tempers. But it had never before felt like their power might actually burn holes in my skin. It seemed impossible that Tony had talked a senior vamp, second or first level, into taking on a sordid little assassination — offing me wasn’t exactly a challenge — but there