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“Then we’re finished here.”

I still haven’t blinked. Antoine’s fidgeting now.

“You haven’t forgotten your promise, have you?” he laughs, trying but failing to sound lighthearted.

I shake my head slowly. And grin wolfishly.

“I assume you’re a man of your word?” Antoine says stiffly.

“I’m not a man,” I answer quietly. “But yes,” I add as he turns an even paler shade of white beneath his tan. “I said I wouldn’t kill you, and I won’t.”

Antoine breaks into a smile. All his confidence and arrogance come flooding back. He takes a step forward, eager to establish control of the situation. I raise a gnarled, semi-human hand to stop him.

“I said I wouldn’t kill you,” I repeat slowly. “But I said nothing about them.” I gesture at the five werewolves.

Antoine laughs feebly. He thinks I’m joking. Then he looks deeper into my eyes and realizes I’m as serious as death.

“No!” he croaks. “You can’t. Your uncle — they’ll kill him if I’m not there.”

“I’ll take that chance,” I chuckle, then click my tongue. Five pairs of wolfen ears prick to attention and the room fills with growls of grisly delight.

“Please,” Antoine sobs, backing up. “I did what you asked. I cooperated.”

I turn my back on him and nod at Meera, Timas, and Prae.

“Are you certain you want to do this?” Meera asks as the werewolves advance and Antoine whimpers and begs for mercy.

“Yes,” I say flatly.

“It’s a callous act,” she warns. “This will stain your soul forever. You might regret it when —”

“When what?” I snap. “When I turn back into a human? When we defeat the Demonata and skip off into the sunset, holding hands? That isn’t going to happen. This is what I am. Get used to it.”

I step out of the room, feeling nothing but a dim sense of pleasure that Dervish is alive. “I don’t think I have a soul any longer, if I ever had one to begin with,” I tell Meera softly. “And my only regret is that there aren’t more like Antoine to kill.”

Then the air fills with Antoine’s screams. I march ahead without looking back, smiling savagely as the scent of the traitor’s blood reaches my nostrils. I lift my nose and breathe in deep. My eyes narrow. My mouth waters. My stomach growls.

Delicious.

LAST MAN STANDING

I WANT to leave the island immediately, take a boat and sail for civilization, to be reunited with Dervish. But there are details to sort out first. As anxious as I am to press on, I don’t want to leave a job half-done.

First, with Timas leading the way, we sweep the compound in search of any survivors. I’m not sure if I’d take them captive or kill them, but there aren’t any, so that’s a question that ultimately doesn’t require answering. Werewolves howl gratefully as I pass. Their previous leader never treated them to anything like this. They think it’s going to be like this all the time, dozens of soldiers to feast on every day. I’m sorry that I’ll have to disappoint them. Maybe I can round up more of Antoine’s collaborators and send them over — home delivery, Grubbs Grady style!

Once we’re sure the compound’s clean, Prae asks if I can move the werewolves out, so that she can re-establish the perimeter.

“Everything’s changed,” she sighs, running a hand through her grey hair. “We can’t take them back — I won’t subject them to slavery and experimentation again, not after this — but we can’t just leave them here. They’d starve.”

“I’m taking some with me,” I tell her, and all three of them stare at me. “The attacks won’t stop. Ju

ni will send others against us. We’ll have to fight again. And again. I’d rather do that with my pack than without them.”

“But how will you control them?” Meera asks. “Off this island… in a city… you can’t keep them like hounds.”

“Yes, I can,” I growl. “I’ll have to treat them to a kill every so often, but that shouldn’t be a problem, not with the sort of action I’m anticipating. I won’t take them all, just the more advanced. Thirty, forty… no more than fifty.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Meera says.

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