Listening to the scraping from the crypt like the tentacles of fear in a cancerous stomach, Sally tried to decide what to do.

“Do you know what’s down there?” she asked the exhausted Jesse Casselberger. “When you went down there, did you see…?”

Jesse shook his head, eyes still closed, just as a wave of affection from Lavinia swept through her and she sagged with the relief of that.

How was she picking up Lavinia’s feelings, just by the way? Special vampire sense? She was still human but she did have some vampire in her. For one thing, with no moon, she could not possibly see everything as clearly as she did, even with a flashlight.

Seconds slipped away as she felt gingerly around for any “special vampire sense” that might help her now while watching all the dangers: Jesse unmoving, the kid staring emptily, the marble steps into solid darkness where something scrabbled, the ululating scream that made her head throb.

It was like feeling around in a dark room for something that could be any size while trying to chew gum and tap dance. She might have the power to bend minds to her will or turn into a bat and she wouldn’t know it – she gave each of those things a half-hearted try as she thought of them, with no result.

With Lavinia apparently safe, it was try and reach the kid or go down into the crypt. The wrong choice would be the end. She stood there like Hamlet and couldn’t decide. Smash her way down into the dark and face the monster? Or reach out the hand of love and friendship to a dork who wouldn’t believe anything unless she ripped off her clothes and had sex with him?

At that image she turned toward the crypt. Any direct action was better than that. Body memories of rape and the cold sliver of knife at her throat nearly gagged her.

She was Sally Yan, stern, hard, implacable. She would face the monster below.

“Jesse! I need you to…”

They both heard footsteps approaching through the trees.

Jesse’s eyes snapped open with hope while Sally crouched with a stake ready, the scrabbling below grating at her thoughts.

Walter La Mont stumbled out of the trees, his eyes filled with tears.

He rushed forward, clutched at Jesse, sobbing, “You’re alright, you’re alright.” Sally’s jaw stayed clenched: probably her attack on Jesse had called him back to himself. But he had to have splinters of the awful mind-controlling wood in him. Five seconds from now one or both of them could be soulless and evil again. Back and forth, back and forth, just like Lavinia on the island. What could you believe, what could you trust?

They clung together, Jesse’s face roiling through conflicting emotions and Walter sobbing with guilt and remorse and Sally found herself at a different decision than the one she had reached a moment before.

“Sweeties,” she said, more gently than she’d thought she had in her. They jerked around.

“No, don’t lose that sense of home,” she begged. “Hold onto your love, just, hold on. Stay human. Watch my back. I can’t watch everything at once. I’m going to try and reach the kid.” She felt like throwing up. “Don’t go down into the crypt. Whatever’s down there will turn you again. Stay focused. Stay your sweet selves. I’ve got to be able to count on something!”

As they both nodded, she looked up at the night and spread her arms. “Lavinia, if you can hear me, bend all your juju on helping them stay human!”

Stomach rolling, she walked to the kid, ready to do whatever she had to in order to reach him, even if she had to get naked in the miserable night and…

She shuddered, stomach rolling between disgust and a disturbing titillation.