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the same as theirs. To exterminate the vampires.
    She felt his anger, and she felt, too, his reluctance to do what he had to do—followed slowly by his bitter acceptance of it. He believed the humans had left him no other choice. He believed it completely.
    She pressed a hand to her forehead, willing theimages away, but they played out all the same. The beam blasting forth from Utana’s eyes. The men—innocent men—being blown literally to pieces. And despite the horror of it, Brigit found herself compelled to examine the images more closely. How had he widened out the beam that way? She couldn’t do that. She had to blow up one thing at a time. How had he managed to broaden its scope to include a wide range of targets all at once? She’d never been able to achieve such a thing.
    Hell, if he was more powerful than she was…
    No, she wouldn’t think that way. He might be stronger, but she was smarter, faster, more at home in the here and now. Not to mention that she was sane. Oh, she supposed there were some who would debate that, given her hair-trigger temper. But she was at least saner than he was, this man who’d been buried alive for more than fifty centuries.
    It wasn’t his fault he was out of his freaking mind, she thought. But that thought, too, she shoved aside.
    She started to turn, intending to track him down by following the essence he left in his wake, but then she paused, brought to halt by the vision still unfolding in her head.
    Utana himself, his wet bedsheet toga dragging the ground, his long black hair clinging to his powerful shoulders and rain-damp chest, climbing down from the truck and walking slowly among thedead. She felt the waves of regret washing over him with so much force that they left him weak. She felt the tears burning in his eyes. And there were, inexplicably, answering tears welling up in her own.
    And then, from directly behind her, he said, “Do you see? The humans—they gave me no choice.”
    Her head came up fast, chills racing up her spine at his presence. How? How had he snuck up on her like that? Why hadn’t she felt his approach as she would feel the approach of anyone—mortal or vampire? Had he learned to block his vibrations from others? And at such close range? Impossible.
    She turned to face him, trying to erase any hint of fear from her expression. Her eyes were level with his massive chest, and she had to tip her head back to focus on his face.
    He met her eyes, and his flashed with recognition. “Brigit. The sister of James.”
    â€œYes.”
    He lowered his head, perhaps unable to hold her gaze, and she sensed he might be ashamed of what he had done. “You are sent for to kill me?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œTell me of your brother and his Lucy. Are they…?”
    â€œThey’re fine.”
    Unmistakable and unspeakable regret flashed in the depths of his gleaming jet-black eyes. “I wish not to harm you, sister of James.”
    â€œDon’t worry, Utana. You won’t.”
    He blinked twice, a frown appearing between his brows. But as he lifted his head and met her eyes again, she saw something more there. A hint of a spark. Perhaps he was rising to the challenge.
    â€œI wish there were another way,” she said. “I hate having to do this to you.”
    He almost smiled as he repeated her own words back to her. “Don’t worry, Brigit. You won’t.” And then his teeth bared in a full-on grin. He was very pleased with himself, no doubt at his flawless repetition, right down to the inflection and tone.
    She lifted a hand, palm up, fingers loosely resting against her thumb, as he spun and raced across the rooftop, putting some distance between them. She focused on him, flicked her fingers open and released the powerful, deadly beam from her eyes.
    As if he felt it coming, Utana tucked and rolled, dodging the flash of laser like light. The chimney behind him