No one comes to throw Simon into the back of the car. But after a few minutes, one of the NowNext guys gets into the front seat, his face flushed with excitement. He grins back at us, like he expects us to celebrate with him. They must all be feeling so tough and clever.

  Penny slumps forward, refusing to look at or be seen by him.

  I turn to the window. We’re parked facing away from the fight, so I can’t see what they’re doing to Simon. I’m glad of that—does that make me a coward? Well, a leopard can’t change its spots.

  I stare out at the blank horizon. I pretend I don’t notice the vampire in the front seat taking a selfie.

  What a fool I’ve been.

  I thought I was the practical one.

  I honestly thought I could walk away from it all—like magic was a place. Like magic was a person. Or a habit I could break.

  When Simon first came to Watford, he couldn’t make his wand work. He could barely cast a spell. He thought they were going to kick him out, that he wasn’t magic enough.

  “You don’t do magic,” Penelope told him. “You are magic.”

  I … am magic.

  Whether I like it or not, whether or not I claim it. Whether or not I carry my wand.

  It’s in me, somehow. Blood, water, bone.

  And Braden is going to get it out.

  I should have ended this before he had the chance. That would have been the heroic thing.

  I should have thrown myself down a well. Penelope would have.

  How have I lived through so many happy endings without ever learning how to save the day?

  57

  BAZ

  When the gunfire starts, Lamb is still holding on to me. “Steady,” he says.

  I’m anything but.

  I drag him up the sand dune, the rest of the vampires forming a V behind us. I’ve got my hand inside my jacket, ready to cast a spell the moment it’s worth spoiling my cover.

  The guns quiet, then rat-a-tat, rat-a-tat, then settle again.

  Lamb stops me at the crest, squeezing my arm. “Steady, lad. I need you to trust me to get you through this.”

  I’m half mad to get over the hill. “What? I do. I will. We followed you this far.”

  Lamb pulls me closer, his nose nearly touching my chin, his hair flopping over one eye. “Trust me now, Baz. I’ll get you through.”

  I nod, hauling him forward. He won’t let go of me. He follows me over the edge.

  We look down and see a dozen or so vampires with machine guns. They’ve got a gun to Shepard’s head—and Simon is lying on the ground.

  One of the vampires looks up at us and waves.

  Lamb is holding me so tight, I think my arm will snap. He’s whispering in my ear. “It was the only way, Baz. There’s a treaty.”

  “No.…”

  “Any mage who comes to Las Vegas gets turned over to them, no exceptions. It’s how we keep them out.”

  I try to shove him away. “No!”

  “This is going to be better for you in the end!”

  I clutch my wand in my pocket and point it at Lamb, hissing, “Et tu, Brute!”

  Nothing happens.

  58

  AGATHA

  At first, I think it’s a mirage.

  Because it’s exactly what I wish were there.

  I was supposed to be at Burning Lad this weekend. Ginger and I had been planning it for months. A weeklong festival in the middle of the desert. A pop-up city. A celebration of life and death in a place where nothing lives, and even death has slim pickings.

  I bought body paint, and sewed feathers onto my bikini. I was going to wear it on the last day—to the Grand Parade, the climax of the festival.

  I’d pictured it so many times:

  All that skin and fire snaking through the desert. I imagined how it would feel to shine like that. To be a small, spangled part of something so magickal, without anyone using any magic at all.

  I see it now, on the horizon.

  That glittering snake.

  A mirage, surely. A trick of the sun and the sand.

  I’d swear it’s getting closer.…

  I see the line of moving parts, of dancing bodies. I see the figure at their head—a large wooden boy, in flames.

  I see it.…

  It’s not a mirage! It’s real!

  It’s here!

  And my first thought is, It’s coming for me!

  That’s how accustomed I am to being rescued; I see a parade of people coming over the hill, and I assume they’re coming to save me.

  They’re not.

  They wouldn’t even hear me if I could scream.

  Which I can’t.

  And yet …

  And yet!

  I was wrong about Burning Lad! It’s full of magic. Fifty thousand Normals. The third-largest city in Nevada, for one week of the year.

  A pop-up city heading my way!

  The line on the horizon gets thicker, but the Normals are still so far.…

  That’s okay. I don’t need much of their magic for this spell. It’s the only one I can cast without a wand, without even moving my lips.

  PENELOPE

  I’m worried that they won’t kill us. Promptly.

  That our bodies might hold years of useful information.

  The vampires will find what they’re looking for, I suspect. Magic is genetic, after all—it must be coded into mages in a way that can be decoded. We should have been the ones to figure it out first.

  Mum would call that heresy. Trying to explain magic.

  But isn’t that just … science?

  I wish I could have this argument with her.…

  I’ve read that bodies disappear completely in the desert. Good. I hope Mum never knows my role in this.

  The gunshots go on for a while. Simon shouts.

  And then he doesn’t.

  It’s—

  I can’t—

  I slump forward against the front seat, choking on something that comes out half sob, half vomit. My lips are taped shut. My mouth and nose are full of bile. I see sparks.

  This is it, this is what happens. This is not getting away.

  There are more sparks.…

  In Agatha’s lap, above her bound hands.

  I look up at her face. Her chin is tilted back, and her eyelids are heavy. She looks like she’s casting a spell.

  Magic? Where is Agatha getting magic? And how is she casting without a wand? Without speaking?

  She sees me watching her. She looks so sorrowful. Her hands spark again.

  AGATHA

  Penelope is nodding at me.

  Does she think I have a grand plan?

  I’m sorry, Penny. I’m not getting us out of this. I was never a hero. I was never a very good friend—I did try to tell you.

  She shimmies up next to me. The vampire in the front seat isn’t paying attention to us; he’s still on his phone. I jerk my head towards the window, towards the glittering parade. When Penny’s eyes widen, I know for certain that I haven’t hallucinated it. She pushes her face against my neck, and I feel my magic snap into focus, almost as if I’m holding my wand—the sparks above my hands catch into a flame.

  Penny grunts. I pull back to look in her eyes. She nods again.

  I lean forward and hold the flame over the front seat.

  It happens so fast. He burns so bright.

  I turn back to Penelope. Her face is damp. Her nose is running. She’s still nodding at me. I push my forehead against hers and close my eyes.

  PENELOPE

  Agatha, yes—you brilliant girl.

  You’ve saved the day in the end.

  59

  SHEPARD

  “My name is Shepard,” I say. “I’m from Omaha, Nebraska.”

  “I told you to shut up!” the vampire says, pressing the nose of his gun more firmly into my temple.

  He did tell me to shut up, but I think he’s probably going to kill me whether I shut up or not, so I may as well keep playing till I’m all out of cards.

  I put my hands up as soon as I saw the guns. The vampires seemed to know I’m not magic. They taped Penelope’s mouth shut, but not mine. They shot Simon out of the air.

  He went down like a rabid bat. I don’t think the vampire he landed on will ever see again. (Can vampires grow new eyes?) Then Simon grabbed the vampire’s rifle and swung it at another one’s head—it was like watching a Mortal Kombat character.

  The vampires shot him again.

  He didn’t get up.

  Baz is coming down the hill now. He looks like he’s in shock. Like Lamb is practically holding him up.

  “My mother’s name is Michele,” I say to the man holding me. “With one l. She teaches Spanish. My parents are divorced, what about yours?”

  One of the NowNext guys steps forward to meet Lamb. The guy’s dressed in brand-new, expensive camping gear—they all are. Space-age nylon pants with zippers. Glacier glasses. One of them even has one of those aluminum hiking poles. It’s like getting ambushed by a heavily armed GQ spread.

  The Next Blood vampire is spitting mad. “For fuck’s sake, Lamb, you could have warned us that one of them was feral!”

  “I did warn you,” Lamb says, cool as ever. “The treaty holds.”

  “And you brought a rando with a cellphone?!” (That’s me, I think.)

  “Consider him a bonus.” Lamb is trying to turn away, but Baz won’t turn. He won’t look away from Simon.

  “You promised us two mages!” the Next Blood vamp says, still spitting.

  “I brought you two mages.” Lamb’s voice cracks, like he can’t believe he’s got to deal with this nonsense. He gestures at Simon. “It’s not my fault you ruined one!”

  “Well,” the other vampire says, all sullen, “at least take the kid with you. You know we don’t like to involve NPCs.”

  Lamb laughs. A few of the other Vegas vampires snicker.

  “Does that mean you won’t kill me?” I ask the guy holding the gun to my head. “Because that’s really good of you. That’s an admirable policy.”

  Lamb is still smiling. Smiling like he’s happy to have someone to hate this much. “You really think you’re the superior model, the next step on the evolutionary ladder.… And you can’t even cope with a teenage Bleeder?” (I’m 22, but I decide not to interrupt him.) “You haven’t worked out a protocol for this? Give him to us, Braden! We’ll show you how a real vampire takes care of business.”

  The Vegas vampires are leering at me.

  The other guy, Braden, rolls his eyes with his whole body. “There’s no such thing as a ‘real’ vampire, Lamb! It’s an apocryphal concept!”

  “I assure you I’m real!” Lamb roars, letting go of Baz. I get the feeling he and Braden have had this screaming match before.

  “We don’t have to play by your rules!” Braden shouts back. “We don’t have to play into your age-old fallacies!”

  “No indeed, you’re free to behave like uncultured cowards!”

  “We’re not cowards!” the one holding me shouts, jabbing me again in the temple.

  This is not an encouraging direction.

  “Don’t listen to Mr. Las Vegas over there,” I say, using my just-between-you-and-me voice. “That guy does not have your best interests at heart.”

  “You live in denial!” Lamb says. He’s addressing them all. “In fear!”

  With Lamb distracted, Baz has taken a step forward. Toward Simon. Baz is swaying on his feet.

  The gun drops from my forehead. Two hands close like vise grips around my biceps. “We’re not afraid to do things your way!” the man behind me yells.

  I close one eye, bracing myself. “My dude … please, no. I fear this won’t go well for either of us.”

  Braden turns to us. He’s a different variety of cool than Lamb, but he’s definitely the alpha wolf of this pack. “Josh, no—don’t lower yourself.”

  “Don’t do it, Josh,” I agree.

  “I’m tired of them mocking us, Braden! We can be strong when it’s required of us!”

  “That isn’t real strength, Josh!” Braden and I say at once.

  Braden waves his gun at me, losing his temper. “Why didn’t you glue his mouth shut?!”

  The Vegas vampires look bored. Some of them are still laughing. Lamb has got Baz by the arm again—he’s trying to keep him away from Simon, but Baz won’t be kept. He’s leaning over Simon’s body, pulling his own hair in his fists.

  “I’ve got this,” Josh says, yanking me back into his chest. He takes a heavy breath, and then clamps his fangs into my neck—

  And then he falls over, oily smoke spiraling from his mouth.

  “Josh,” I say, swooning forward. “I told you this wasn’t going to be good.”

  On my way to the ground, I see Baz running for Braden, his arms flying around the other vampire’s neck.

  60

  BAZ

  It’s a dead spot. We should have—I should have—

  Simon’s lying on the ground. His wing is bent the wrong way.

  Lamb: “Yes, all right, I’ve betrayed you. Just keep your cool, Baz, and you’ll live to hate me for it.”

  I’ll live …

  Simon.

  We heard gunshots. On the other side of the hill. And then we didn’t.

  Simon’s on the ground, his wing is bent the wrong way. Someone should fix it for him. Someone should cast a spell. I’d cast it, but I’m in a dead spot. I’m in a Quiet Zone. I’m keeping my wand a secret, I’m pretending to be a vampire.

  “Simon…”

  Simon Snow.

  The way you were. There wasn’t a day when I believed we’d both live through it.

  (Through what, through what, through what?)

  Lamb: “The treaty holds!”

  Simon:

  Simon is on the ground. There were gunshots, and then there weren’t. His wing is bent the wrong way. His hair is a mess. He doesn’t have a sword.

  I told him it would be all right.

  I told him …

  I didn’t tell him, I never told him. Not in a way that he believed. Not in a way that he could let in and hold on to. Everything he was to me. That he was everything.

  Simon, Simon …

  You were the sun, and I was crashing into you.

  I’d wake up every morning and tell myself …

  I’d tell myself …

  “You live in fear! In denial!”

  Simon is on the ground. His wing is bent the wrong way. His blood is red and abundant. It smells like brown butter. His hair is a mess, his face is in the sand. He doesn’t know how much I love him. He’s never really heard it.

  I’d wake up every morning and tell myself …

  “Simon … love … get up. We still have to save Agatha.”

  Simon is on the ground.

  This will end in flames.

  61

  SIMON

  I’m going to get up. As soon as my head clears. If my head clears.

  I think I’ve got holes in my wings.… Can I bleed out through appendages that didn’t originally come with my body?

  I’m going to get up. As soon as I can. I’m waiting for the right moment.

  The right moment will be the moment when I have a shot at one of these bastards. (I got at least one already. I yanked one of his eyes out.) (Heal that, fucker.)

  I’m getting up. So I can go down with a fight.

  They took Penelope.

  I can’t—

  I don’t think I can—

  The vampires are fighting, I think. Maybe they’ll kill each other. That would make my job easier.

  My job is getting up.

  My job is going down.

  With a fight.

  I saved Agatha from a werewolf once. And from a Pegasus foaming at the mouth. I killed a dragon. By accident. Did you know that, one time, the Humdrum hid Agatha at the bottom of a well? I found her. I hauled her up.

  He sent cravens, and I caught them in my bare hands.

  Once there was a nar-do-whal. In the moat.

  And I …

  There were so many goblins.

  So many trolls.

  I killed them.

  A gryphon. A diphthong. An aspssasin. And I …

  They’ve got Agatha. They took Penelope.

  There’s no magic here, but that’s okay—there’s no magic left in me.

  I’ll take one more when I go. When I get up. And go down.

  I’ll take at least one more.

  For Agatha. And Penelope.

  For …

  “Simon…”

  Baz!

  62

  SHEPARD

  The vampire who bit me is definitely dead. And probably everyone here would be more horked off over that if Baz didn’t just grab the leader of the Next Blood by the neck and rip off half his jaw.

  The rest of the San Diego vampires are emptying their clips into Baz and Lamb—and, incidentally, each other. Lamb’s crew hadn’t been taking any of this seriously; a few of them had even headed back up the hill after the Speakers were officially turned over. But now they’re running into the mob with their mouths open and their fangs all the way out.

  I feel weak as shit and woozy, but I drag myself back behind one of the Mercedes G-Wagens. Penelope’s in the other one. I lie on my belly and army-crawl between the SUVs, hoping the guns are pointed in any other direction. I’m halfway to the second Mercedes when it literally bursts into flames. I leap up into a run, yanking one of the back doors open. Smoke pours out. And then the blond girl. Then Penelope. They’re alive. They’re … surprised, I think. I untie their hands. But their mouths are glued shut, and I can’t get them open.

  Penelope reaches frantically into my pocket and pulls out my Swiss Army knife, holding it up to her face.

  I try to keep my hand steady. I try to ignore the blood.

  63

  BAZ

  Go ahead and shoot me. This isn’t my favourite shirt.