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their line. She could have said the words in her sleep, but the only law applicable in that moment was so ancient she would never have thought anyone would invoke it.
    When witch-kin is slain, there shall be no safe haven, no higher law to protect the guilty. Every hunter shall turn her blade to the task, and there shall be no rest until those responsible have been slain
.
    The Rights of Kin hadn’t been called upon since the death of Smoke Madder, thousands of years earlier. The conflict had led to the schism that split the witches into separate lines for the first time, with some obeying the Rights and some swearing a vow of nonviolence and giving up the title of hunter for themselves and all their descendants.
    Hunters’ deaths were avenged when they could be, but most of the time it was simply accepted that hunters eventuallylost their lives, usually to their prey. No one had called on the Rights when the Light line had been extinguished three centuries before, and the Vida line had nearly been forced to the same fate. No one had called on the Rights when Nikolas and Kristopher had killed Elisabeth Vida in the 1850s, or when Zachary’s sister Jacqueline had been slaughtered, or when Sarah’s father had been bled and dumped on their front step.
    Sarah was sitting. When had she sat down?
    Kristopher was by her side. Nikolas was still standing close to Kaleo, defensive, and Christine was hovering in the doorway at the opposite side of the room. Her face was tight with fear, but she stood solid, eyes only occasionally flickering back to Kaleo from Sarah.
    Sarah recognized the posture. It was loyalty that held her when terror made her want to run. It had to be hard for her to stay in the same room with Kaleo, but she did it anyway.
    Sarah wanted to say to her,
Just run. Loyalty isn’t worth so much sometimes
.
    “The Rights of Kin are ancient,
ancient
Vida law,” Sarah said. “Older than the other lines’ existences. Older than any living vampires, or recorded civilization, for that matter. They were passed down verbally for centuries, because humanity hadn’t yet invented written language.”
    “Get to the
point,
” Kaleo growled.
    “Back off!” Kristopher shouted. “Can’t you see she’s in shock?”
    Sarah shook herself. She wasn’t in shock; a daughter of Vida didn’t have that luxury. She pushed herself to her feet.
    “The Rights of Kin can be called upon by any descendant ofMacht—any Vida, Smoke, Arun or Marinitch witch—when their kin is slain. The law requires any other child of Macht to set aside all allegiances and obligations to assist with hunting down the killer. The healers don’t have to fight, but they can’t offer sanctuary or assistance, either. What Caryn did,” she said, thinking out loud as her gaze went to the bag the witch had hastily passed her, “would be enough to get her disowned if anyone learned about it.”
    “Focus, Vida,” Kaleo snapped. “What does this mean, right now, to us?”
    Kristopher looked ready to murder him, but the sharp words brought Sarah back to herself. They reminded her of the many times she had reported to Dominique, ignoring fatigue or agony after a particularly grueling fight. She had to be practical and keep her mind on what needed to be done. She couldn’t dwell on the lump in her stomach when she wondered why now, of all times, Dominique had called upon this ancient law.
    “It means that all witches who hunt will turn their full attention on the ones Dominique considers responsible for my murder. They will call on their allies. They will track down anyone they have ever known to have a connection to the killers, without worrying about messy treaties with SingleEarth or other normally respected neutral havens.”
    “I don’t suppose they care that you are not, in fact, dead,” Nikolas said.
    Sarah shook her head. “In their eyes, I am.”
    “And we’re your killers,” Kristopher added. “That means we need to warn our people. Everyone