I Should Die

from the building and then I will return.”
    “Yes, please let my granddaughter and me leave,” pleaded Mamie, now standing.
    Violette’s civilized demeanor exploded, shattering into a million glass shards. “You will all do exactly as I say!” she screamed, her eyes narrowed. Everyone froze and stared at her. The bodyguards unfolded their arms and took a step in our direction before receiving a glare from Violette that stopped them in place.
    She pressed a hand to her chest, and closing her eyes, she sighed. Then, in a voice little louder than a whisper she said, “Nicolas, dear, escort Madame Mercier out.”
    Louis took my grandmother by the arm and walked her quickly past us, handing her off to Nicolas. He whisked her into the hallway, closing the door behind them. I caught a whiff of her gardenia perfume as she passed, and my chest clenched painfully as I wondered again if any of us would get out of this alive.
    “Now. Where were we?” said Violette, and turned to us. “Oh yes, Kate and Vincent. It is time for us to conclude some unfinished business.” She strode toward us, snakelike in her smooth predatory movements.
    “You,” she said, pointing at Vincent, “belong to me.” And for the first time I noticed something strange about her right hand. It looked disfigured. Unbalanced. A thread of panic ran its way down my spine as I saw what was wrong: Her little finger was gone. Where the knuckle would have joined it to her hand was an angry red scab with black stitches poking out of it. That was the flesh-and-bone sacrifice she had made to bind Vincent to her. Uselessly. I stared at the amputation and wanted to vomit.
    “I never belonged to you,” Vincent responded, each word dripping contempt. “You used Kate and her grandparents to get me here. Now you’ve got me, and unsurprisingly, you’ve got a fire”—he nodded toward the blaze burning in the stone hearth—“and apparently you figured out what you did wrong last time. So let Kate go and let’s get on with it.”
    Violette nodded to the bodyguards. They stepped forward and each took Vincent by an arm. He looked toward me, eyes pleading for my compliance, as he let them grab him without a struggle.
    Vincent was not going to sacrifice himself to save me. A red-hot poker of fury pierced my heart and propelled me as I lunged toward him. “Vincent. You can’t! Not again.” My head jerked forward as I felt strong hands grasp my arms from behind. I whipped around to see that the boy, Louis, was my captor. And he was stronger than he looked. His eyes flicked to mine, and barely moving his lips, he said in an almost inaudible voice, “I’m sorry.”
    His words confused me, but I turned quickly away as Violette stopped inches from Vincent. She held the knife under his chin while he stared defiantly into her eyes.
    “Take me instead of him,” I insisted.
    Lowering the knife and taking a step backward, she switched her gaze from him to me and laughed. “Now, tell me, Kate. Besides the pleasure it will give me to kill your boyfriend . . . again . . . before your eyes, why in the world would you imagine I’d want you ?”
    I struggled against Louis’s grasp, and thinking quickly, I spat, “I could be your first human kill. Isn’t that how it works? You could be a numa like you want to be. Just don’t kill Vincent again. Let him go and take me instead.”
    “Well,” said Violette, an amused expression crossing her features as she glanced behind me to meet Louis’s eyes. “Now, isn’t that a charming gesture? One might even say a self-sacrificing offer. How benevolent of you, Kate.
    “You were right, Vincent,” she said, focusing her attention back on him. Her lips curved into a sick smile. “I did figure out what I did wrong last time.” Her eyes studied his face, and she tilted her head girlishly to one side. “I chose the wrong Champion.”
    And, lunging forward, she plunged the knife into my chest. Her movement was so fast that I didn’t know what had happened for a full second, until I looked down and saw it sticking out of my torso, still clenched in her tiny, porcelain-white fingers.
    Then, grabbing the hilt with both hands, she pulled the blade in a quick upward motion, and I only had time to look toward Vincent and see the terror in his eyes before a rushing sound erased his scream and the darkness drowned me.

THIRTY-SIX
    I’M SO THIRSTY. MY MOUTH FEELS FULL OF SAND, but my lips part and I realize it’s my