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Myrnin laughed, deep in his throat, and took out the thin, sharp knife he'd worn at his side. As Bishop advanced on him, he cut at him, still laughing.

He connected.

It was a minor little wound to Bishop's arm, barely a nick, but Clare saw the cut on the older vampire's robes, and a thin film of blood on the knife.

Bishop looked surprised enough to stop to examine the damage to his costume.

Myrnin's laughter ratcheted higher and higher, and he twirled again, faster, almost a blur.

"Myrnin!" Claire yelled. She was backing away from Ysandre, burned and furious, who was stalking toward her. She tripped and fell flat on her back. "Myrnin, do something!"

He stopped twirling and looked at the bloody knife in his hand.

"I told Sam before, you have to know when to let go," he said. "It's time, Claire." He blew her a kiss, and leaped over the table.

And ran away, shrieking with laughter, still holding the knife. Right out of the hall.

For a few seconds, nobody moved. Claire stared at Ysandre, who seemed just as surprised, and glanced at Bishop.

Who flicked his fingers against the cut in his robe, and chuckled.

"My fool," he said, almost fondly. "Madmen are the laughter of God, don't you agree?"

He sat down on his throne, smiling. "Ysandre, leave the child. I'm inclined to allow our friends their small acts of defiance tonight."

"She burned me!" Ysandre snarled.

"And you'll heal. Don't whine like a kicked dog. It's no more than you deserve."

Amelie, Claire realized, hadn't moved at all. Not even when Claire's life had been in danger. Now she did, leaning down to help Claire to her feet.

"Enough of this," she said. "You've had your fun, Father. End this."

"Very well," he said. "It's time for the test, my child. Swear fealty to me, and it will all be over."

"If I swear fealty, it will never be over," Amelie corrected him. "I never have sworn an oath to you. Did you really think tonight that would change?"

His cold, cold eyes narrowed. "Blood traitor," he said. "Murderous witch. Do you welcome me to your little town? Do you grant me leave to walk your streets and take your peasants? I don't think you dare. You know me too well."

"I grant you nothing," she said. "I won't swear loyalty to you. I won't give you welcome. I won't give you anything, Father." It didn't seem possible, but as Claire watched her, Amelie seemed . . . human. Vulnerable. Fragile and waiting to be broken.

"You will give me one thing if you want to keep what you've built here," he said. "I want my book. The one you stole as you rolled me into my hasty grave, daughter."

She froze, eyes widening. Amelie, who couldn't be surprised, had been completely taken for a ride this time. "The book."

"You think I want your pathetic town? Your ridiculous peasants?" Bishop's contemptuous gaze swept over Claire, over the room beyond. "I want my property . Give it to me, and I'll leave. There. Now all our cards are up, child. What say you?"

"The book isn't yours," Amelie said.

"I took it from the dead hands of a rival," Bishop said. "That makes it mine. Right of conquest." He gave her a cold, slow stare. "The same way you took it from me, if you remember, except that I wasn't quite dead enough. A pity you didn't make sure, eh?"

It was all going wrong. Myrnin had run away, and he was supposed to stay, supposed to fight. Amelie couldn't do this on her own; he'd said it himself.

The other vampires were all standing by and letting it happen.

"Amelie," Bishop said, "I'll destroy you if you refuse. Don't you know that? Haven't you known it from the moment I came to town?"

Claire moved up beside her. "She wants you to leave," she said. "You need to go. Now."

Bishop laughed. "A threat from a little yapping dog. Will you make me, mongrel?"

"No," said Sam Glass. He jumped from the banquet floor up to the table in one lithe, easy motion, and then down to stand on Amelie's other side. "Not by herself, anyway." He'd taken off his Huck Finn straw hat, but even if he'd been wearing it, his expression was one that demanded to be taken seriously.

Michael joined him, crossing the distance with a leap, while Eve and Shane took the stairs.

There was a second's breathless pause, and then others began to move. Oliver. Monica. Charles and Miranda.

Claire's dad came up to take her mother's hands and lead her off to the side, out of danger.

More kept coming.

The vampires and humans of Morganville stood together, crowding the stage in front of Bishop, Ysandre, and Fran?ois. Not all of them - but more than half the room.

"You're not welcome here," Oliver said, "Master Bishop. This is our town. Our people. It's time for you to leave."

"A rebellion," Bishop said. "How refreshingly modern."

He nodded to Ysandre and Fran?ois. Fran?ois yanked Jennifer out of her seat on the dais.

Ysandre feinted toward Shane, then grabbed hold of Jason Rosser and sank her fangs deep into his neck.

Pandemonium. Sam and Michael both hit Fran?ois, bearing him backward as he tried to get his teeth into a screaming Jennifer, and Claire lost sight of them almost immediately. Bishop was on his feet, struggling hand to hand with Oliver.

Amelie, eyes the color and hardness of diamond, grabbed Ysandre by the back of the neck and yanked her backward, away from Jason.

"My property," she snapped, and held Ysandre at arm's length as she hissed and struggled. "Boy. Boy!" She bent over Jason, her pale fingers touching his face.

Jason opened his eyes. He was crying, Claire thought, but then she saw his face, and she knew that wasn't crying at all.

That was laughter.

"Sucker," he said.

"No!" Claire cried, but it was too late.

Jason took a stake out of the folds of his brown monk's robe and stabbed Amelie, right in the heart.

Everything stopped.

Amelie staggered backward. The wooden stake in her chest looked unreal, obscene, wrong.

Amelie was invulnerable. Couldn't be hurt.

A rim of blood spread into the white cloth around the stake, growing before Claire's eyes.

Sam screamed. He abandoned Fran?ois as Amelie fell, and caught her, easing her down to the wooden stage. The look on his face - Claire had never seen that much pain, ever.

Oliver punched Bishop so hard that the old man staggered backward and fell over the side of the throne; then Oliver moved to Amelie's side.

"No!" Oliver snapped as Sam took hold of the stake to pull it out. "She's old. She'll survive until we get her to safety. Take her!"

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