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PREVIOUSLY:

SETH ST. JAMES and his partner, EVAN ST. JOHN, two vampire-slaying Saints come to a seemingly quiet college town called ROSSBERG. With the help of their associates, ESPERANZA ST. THOMAS, a powerful elder called the Magda, and her junior companion BENDIS ST. PHILIP, they plan to unravel the secret behind two mysterious murders that happen every ten years. On their first day in town, Seth donates blood at a clinic, knowing that his rare O-negative will be like catnip to the Damned.

On the way back, Seth and Evan are abducted by a powerful Chinese sorceress named MRS. SONG, who informs them she doesn't want any slayers in her town. She gives them one day to leave Rossberg forever. Ignoring the warning, Seth makes contact with IRA, a handsome college boy who may be more than he seems. On their spy-date, a strange spectral figure startles Seth into what should be a fatal fall. But Ira leaps to catch him, and guide them both gently to the ground like only a vampire can.

Now certain of Ira's identity, Seth electrocutes him, and brings him back to the safehouse for interrogation...

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I’ve never actually watched the Damned come back from death before, and I have to say, it was an interesting experience.

First, he twitched and jerked like a sleeper on the verge of waking. All his nerve endings reconnecting, I guess. Then, head lolling, he gasped. It was a deep, hollow sound, a death rattle in reverse. Finally, his head snapped up, eyes going wide. They were fully black, and he had to blink several times before their color came rushing back.

Earlier his skin had been merely pale. Now it was white, pallid and deathly. If I lay my hand against his cheek, I knew, he would be cool to the touch. Healing from Unky’s taser had really taken it out of him.

“Hey, babe.” I smirked. “Sleep well?”

He swallowed hard. “Where am I?”

“Somewhere safe,” I said.

“Safe. Right.” He looked down at himself, then back up at me. “Isn’t the first date a little early for bondage?”

“It was never a date.” The coldness of my voice even surprised myself a little. “We have questions. You’re going to answer them.”

His eyes roamed over us: Evan, face still tight; Espy, serene as always; and Beni, looking, well, a little bored.

“We being that religious family you mentioned, yeah?” He sighed. “Figures. The cutest ones are always the craziest.”

“Every ten years your kind murders two people from this town.” Ignoring his crazy crack, I stared him down. “How are the victims chosen, and how do we stop it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He met my gaze with just the right touch of wide-eyed fear. It was almost saintlike, I was realizing, the ability to project any emotion on his face. Not a tour guide face, a politician’s. “Please just let me go.”

“Wrong answer.”

Calmly, I walked to the weapons table where my Baby still patiently waited after our training session. Picking her up, I walked back until I was facing Ira once again. His eyes never left me the whole time.

“We know what you are.” Slowly, like undressing a lover, I drew Baby from her sheath. I applied just enough pressure that the bell-pure sound of her coming free was a long, slow trill. “You can still find redemption. Just tell me how to stop what’s happening tonight.

He was silent, eyes flickering like he didn’t know if he should be watching the blade or me. An amateur’s mistake. Always keep your eyes on your opponent.

“There’s no use pretending,” I told him. “The taser I used on you would drop a herd of elephants and still have charge left. Yet here you are, looking alive and well. But I think we both know you’re neither of those things.”

“You’re the one who isn’t well.” He finally spoke. “You can’t treat a person like this.”

“I’d never treat a person like this,” I said.

Real emotion entered his face, a shade of anger. “I am a person.”

“No,” I said. “You’re a vampire.”

The word hung in the air. He didn’t deny it.

“Last chance, leech.” I spun Baby in my hand so the tip was pointed at him. “You start talking, or I start cutting.”

“I’d just like to point out that torture has been proven ineffective,” he said, a little of the fear in his eyes real now. “The tortured just says whatever the torturer wants to hear. Even if you make me talk, you can’t make me tell the truth.”

“Actually,” Espy put in. “We can.”

We all, even Ira, turned to look at her.

“There is a maneuver called the Spear of Ithuriel,” she continued. “It pierces the deceptions of the Damned.”

“You’re going to perform this technique?” Evan asked.

“No.” She looked at me. “Seth is.”

“But, Sister,” he protested. “The Names of the Archons are reserved for patriarchs.”

“True.” She nodded. “But Ithuriel is a gentle Name, and his prayers are the easiest, to be honest. The Spear requires only peace of mind to work. If Seth is as certain of this course of action as he claims, then it should be no problem.”

“Seriously?” I tried to contain my excitement in front of the hostage, but a slice of wonder tinged my breath. “You’re going to teach me a Name?”

“Enter the circle,” she said. “It’s quite safe. The blessing will allow us to pass without disrupting the protection.”

Squaring my shoulders, I stepped into the sacred circle. Without engaging my true sight I couldn’t actually see the sphere, but I felt it, a tingle as I crossed the barrier.

“Now wait a minute!” Ira said, rearing back as far as the chains around the chair would allow. “I won’t be your guinea pig.”

None of us acknowledged him.

“Find your center,” Espy instructed from outside the circle.

I fell into my Spark with the same ease as always.

“Allow the Spirit to fill you, but do not yet send it into the sword.”

The true sight washed over my vision automatically, the haint blue of my Spirit flowing all around my body like an aura. I could feel the way it itched to flow down my arm into Baby, the vanadium of her blade calling the power like a magnet, but I held the light at bay within me.

“Very good. Now repeat after me: Ithuriel, Archon of Discovery.”

“Ithuriel,” I whispered. “Archon of Discovery.”

“Set your spear within my hand…”

“Set your spear within my hand…”

“To pierce all lies and illusions, and guide the children of man.”

“To pierce all lies and illusions, and guide the children of man.”

“Now comes the hard part.” Espy’s voice was soft. “Slowly, like an unspooling thread, guide the power into your sword. But not all once. You must use your will to twist the Spirit around your blade.”

I gathered my Spirit, trying to visualize a spiral of light around my Baby.

“No, slower,” Espy said, but I could already feel it. The light shot down the sword, lighting the blade up like I always did.

I glared down at her in frustration.

“Your Uncle is renowned for his tempering process,” Espy said. “But to invoke the more gentle Names, that can sometimes be a hindrance.”

“Tough luck,” said Ira, almost cheerfully. “Guess you better let me go.”

“Shut it,” I hissed.

“You can’t get frustrated,” Espy said. “Remember, this technique requires peace of mind. You must find balance to construct the Spear.”

Nodding, I held in a breath. As I released the air, I sent my impatience with it.

“I know you’re used to picking things up quickly,” she continued. “Remove your ego from the equation, and try again. Allow only enough Spirit into your blade to spindle.”

I tried, I really did, but once again Baby’s magnetism was too great, and once again the blade filled with light. If this was the easiest Patriarch skill, what were the others like?

“Maybe this isn’t such a great idea,” Evan began, but I cut him off.

“I can do it,” I insisted. “Third time’s the charm.”

I held Baby before my face. This time I took a second to picture what a spear of Spirit around her blade would look like before I drew on any of my inner Spark. Falcatas aren’t a terribly long blade, as far as swords go. Her entire length was about the size of some spearheads I’ve seen, so it wasn’t actually hard to imagine.

Not imagine, visualize.

“Let your Spark be a pool, a lake,” came Espy’s final instruction. “Only one small river of Spirit needs to escape.”

“Ithuriel, Archon of Discovery…”

This time as I called the Spirit, I didn’t let it flow down my arm, keeping the bluish glow in my center of mass.

“Set your spear within my hand…”

Even from an arm’s length away, the vanadium called to the Spirit. I pictured the thinnest slice of blue, thin as a thread, and didn’t let it shoot straight down. I spiraled it around my arm, fighting against Baby’s call to keep the motion slow and steady.

“To pierce all lies and illusions…”

It was working, and I realized what I needed to do. Espy’s instruction about the river was my clue. Rivers were constantly in motion. I spindled the channel of Spirit around and around the blade. When it got it to the tip, I called it back again, twisting it in the other direction back toward my Spark.

“...and guide the children of man,” I finished.

Ithuriel’s Spear glowed, blue and beautiful, around my sword, a constantly rotating helix of energy from my core, to the tip of the sword, and back again.

“Well done,” said Espy.

Evan crossed his arms.

“Now touch him with the point, and ask your questions.”