A piece of metal bounces off the stone floor, and the ring echoes around the building. All our eyes snap to the foyer.

The door creaks open. Dim moonlight draws an outline around a man's frame on the other side. It's just enough to make out a cape across his broad shoulders and a curved sword in his hand.

Ivan steps back, pulling me with him. The bald man moves forward to block the aisle.

Heavy boots march over the stone floor, echoing around the room. It's a sound I've heard hundreds of times before. It can't be him. I walked for days. This is a human country. I covered my tracks.

He steps into the hall, and the light reveals his pale skin, his sharp jaw, his ink-black hair and his blood-red eyes. Rahlan.

The bald man draws his sword at the sight of Rahlan's vampiric features. If he engages Rahlan in a duel, he'll share Neil's fate.

Ivan has turned to stone. His brow is creased up, and he's glaring at Rahlan. He hates the idea of being so close to a vampire, and here one approaches, in the place Ivan has called home for the last few weeks – his sanctuary. He doesn't know that this vampire has any connection to me, but the look in his eye betrays that he wants Rahlan dead.

Rahlan's slow steps echo around the room. No one here poses any threat to him. His gait does not falter at the sight of the sword. He's not even looking at his opponent. His eyes are locked on me.

"Ivan is your kin," he says.

A shiver runs through my body. He knows the man standing beside me is Ivan, and he knows that he's my uncle. This is the man that he believes killed his father. He told me that in a sensitive moment, being open with me while hiding it from Ohan and Theron. I deceived Rahlan into thinking that Ivan was dead, I hid that Ivan was part of my family, and I ran from Rahlan to find him. Now my secret lays open by Rahlan's feet. This is the moment he's sought after for months, the moment he takes revenge on the leader of the Huntsmen.

Ivan glances at me, his eyes still burning. It didn't escape him that Rahlan spoke to me, in a room full of people he shouldn't know, he picked out the unassuming girl and spoke like he saw me yesterday. The story behind how I know Rahlan is far too much to cover in a few whispered words, especially to explain how I inadvertently led him here. Ivan seems to understand that, as his hateful stare returns to the vampire.

Rahlan stops just a few feet away from the bald man's blade. Is he waiting for me to respond? Should I speak to him as if no one else is in the room, to try moderate his temper and give my uncle a chance to survive? What would Ivan think of me then, as someone who speaks to a vampire like a companion? He'd never want to see me again.

Rahlan being here is truly the worst thing that could've happened. I'm the only one in this room that he'd think twice about cutting down, the only one who can stall him. I glance at my empty hands. My sword sits resting in the foyer, but it might as well be buried under the ground. If speaking doesn't work, throwing myself at Rahlan and latching onto his arms is my best chance to give Ivan some time to escape. Even after everything, I trust that Rahlan won't bring his blade down upon me.

I step forward, stopping only to glance back at Ivan and whisper a word, "Run."

Ivan's hand immediately grabs my arm, and he pulls me back beside him. Stumbling on my feet, I whip around and shoot him a sharp look. His face is hard, and his gaze looks right over my head. Does he not realize the danger he is in? Is this some misguided gesture to protect me? I know this vampire, and I can reason with him.

"Ivan, commander of the Huntsmen." Rahlan's rough voice makes me shudder. His words bounce off the walls, as if he was a magician with his voice carrying power. "You are a criminal, a despicable man who fights without dignity. Your underhanded homicide brought conflict upon your own country."

He speaks as if he's passing judgement over Ivan before the executioner brings an axe down upon his neck. There's no time left. I yank my arm, but Ivan's grip stays tight, keeping me planted beside him.

"While my past self would have taken great pleasure in ridding the land of your stench," Rahlan continues, "I see now that you are nothing more than an image, and in truth a spineless man who runs and hides at the whiff of steel. The difficulty with bringing death to men like you, men only concerned with their own survival, is that your suffering is brief." His eyes find me for a moment. "But the people who care about you, honorable people who would lay down their lives to protect you, will anguish for years over your death."

My breath hitches in my throat.

He knows that killing Ivan will bring me pain.

Rahlan raises his curved blade, pointing it in Ivan's direction. "Your legion has all but been snuffed out. You hide in foreign lands, as the commander of nothing but ghosts. I have decided to grant you mercy, Ivan of the Huntsmen. You shall keep your precious life, on the condition that you take your hand off my human and get out of my sight."

My mouth falls open.

He's abandoning his quest to take revenge, the very thing that drove him into battle after battle, on account of me? He recognizes that I care about Ivan, and he's giving up his revenge to spare me the pain of losing another family member. More than that, the condition for Ivan's life is that I be returned to Rahlan. He wants me with him, and he wants me to be happy.

I try step forward again with the thought of taking Rahlan's hand and leading him away, but Ivan's grip stays tight around my arm, keeping me up on the stage beside him. Of course Ivan wouldn't believe him. He must think that the vampire is trying to take me as a hostage.

Ivan chuckles. He has been silent since Rahlan walked through the door, and his first noise is a laugh?

"Arrogance is your kind's weakness," Ivan says, "You believe you are gods in this world, when in truth, you are nothing but an infection." He spits the last word, as if just the thought of vampires disgust him. I expected that Ivan would be trembling, but he's not. How can he speak so confidently when Rahlan could easily take his life?

Rahlan swings his sword, and it meets the bald man's blade with a sharp ring. Not a second later, he strikes again, using so much force that the man stumbles from the parry. One more hit and that man's finished. He will die for nothing!

Rahlan grunts and takes a step back. Did the bald man land a hit? How? He's only just steadied himself.

I see it. A reflective rod in Rahlan's arm – an arrow.

Another arrow cuts through the air and hits him, embedding itself into his other arm. He winces, his fangs showing for a brief moment.

"Stop!" I shout. A third arrow appears from nowhere, narrowly missing him and bouncing off the pews. Another follows right after, stabbing into his hip.

Ivan releases my arm and steps forward. "You were right about one thing, monster. I do run, but only when I expect defeat." He gestures to the shadows on either side of the hall. Two hooded figures step into the light - bowmen. "Observe, monster, I'm not running."

I had no idea that there were more Huntsmen in the room, and it appears that Rahlan didn't either. The ravager we fought managed to dodge Aled's arrows, so shouldn't it have been even easier for Rahlan?

The bowmen join us on stage. Ivan had them hidden at the end of the pews – one on each side of Rahlan. They waited until he was engaged in combat, shooting the moment that he was distracted.

Rahlan yanks all three arrows out of his body. His face barely twitches, as if they were nothing more than an annoyance to him.

"You believe that twigs will stop me?" he says.

Ivan stands tall, like he has complete confidence in his victory.

Rahlan lunges forward, his blade pointing directly at the bald man's chest. He's completely ignoring his opponent's sword, not caring if his own body is hit. With a vampire's toughness, he could run that man right through, and the man could return no more than a shallow cut.

The bald man stumbles backwards in fear. Rahlan has chosen to end this quickly rather than cleanly.

The moment before his blade makes contact, his foot slips, and his body crashes into the pews.

What?

The bowmen didn't shoot. The bald man didn't strike. In all the time I've been with Rahlan, I cannot recall once seeing him slip.

Rahlan jumps to his feet and stumbles backwards, barely able to keep his balance. Something's wrong. He's taken arrows in the past, and he was still able to run faster than me. I've never seen him like this.

"Queensblood," Ivan says. "The locals introduced me to this cleansing oil. Once inside a vampire's body, it shreds it like a blade."

Rahlan takes another wobbly step back, trying to use the pews to steady himself. An image of him lying still on the stone floor flashes in my mind, and my stomach twists up.

His sword hits the floor with a ring, and he falls to his hands and knees. He's in pain, so much pain that he can't even lift his gaze.

"Titus, slay the monster," Ivan commands.

The bald man, Titus, marches down the aisle with his weapon in hand. He's going to chop Rahlan's head off. I'll have to watch as they pull his limp body outside and burn it. They'll drink and dance in his expensive clothes.

No. I shoot past Ivan and Titus, screeching to a stop just a foot away from Rahlan's doubled-over form. Without thinking twice about it, I pick up his curved sword and raise it to Titus. My feet stand planted before Rahlan, preventing Titus from getting any closer.

Titus stops his advance, staying just out of range of my sword.

"Get back," I growl between my teeth.

His eyes run up and down my short frame. Regardless of how small and weak I may appear, if he takes one step closer to Rahlan, I'll cut off his head.

"Titus," Ivan grumbles.

Titus swings his blade wide. I tighten my grip the moment his sword meets mine, keeping it from bouncing out of my hands. His strike was too far away to pose any threat to my body, like he's trying to do nothing more than scare me.

Not sharing his hesitation, I lunge forward and swing wildly, disregarding my own safety. He leaps away, startled. I cannot stand back while they execute Rahlan. I could not bear to see him dead.

Ivan is glaring at me, with the rage he felt for Rahlan now pointed my way. I'm not his enemy. We're family. I don't want to fight his subordinate.

"Ivan-" the words choke in my throat. What do I even say? If I didn't raise a sword, my words would have been disregarded and Rahlan would be dead. He left me no choice, but how can I explain that? Rahlan's a vampire.

Titus takes a step forward. His eyes betray that he doesn't want to fight me either.

I ready my stance – feet apart, dominant hand on top – like Rahlan taught me.

"Ivan, your niece will not stand aside," Titus says.

Ivan's brow creases up. Hearing the words out loud, that I'm standing in his way, snaps something in his mind. He's not just angry, he's enraged.

"Then kill the traitor," Ivan says.

A rock forms in my stomach. The man Jacob heralded as great, the man I've spent all this time searching for, the last of my family, wants me dead? He hates me now? All because I don't want him to murder Rahlan? How could he just toss me aside so easily?

"Ivan..." Titus glances back at him, shocked at the order.

"I said kill her," he growls.

His words make me flinch. The sword shakes in my hands, and my eyes burn. I'm not a traitor. I know vampires are terrible. They committed an atrocity upon our people, and I've experienced that firsthand. But even knowing all that, the thought of Rahlan dead makes me want to breakdown.

There's a thud behind me. I look back for just a second. Rahlan's lying flat on the ground, motionless. A lump grows in my throat. He can't be dead. He's too strong. I've seen his strength, his will, his authority. He can't be dead from something as small as an arrow.

Titus stares at me, silently willing me to step aside. He doesn't want to do this.

I keep my sword raised. Tears run down my cheeks that I didn't know were there. I know that I don't stand a chance against a trained swordsman, but moving aside and just allowing him to kill Rahlan is inconceivable. How could I live with myself with that image in my mind, knowing that I just allowed it to happen.

Titus's eyes narrow. His apprehension has disappeared. He's made his choice.

I suck in my breath.

He sheaths his sword and turns around.

I stand straight, confused. What is he doing?

He walks back to Ivan.

Ivan's face twists up. "Where are you-"

"I joined the huntsmen believing our purpose was to protect people, not slay them. Now I find that it is ruled by one who easily wishes death upon his own family." He steps past Ivan.

"Don't you understand? She's with them," Ivan says.

"Our entire country is under their rule now," Titus says. "Slaughtering those who obey them does nothing but satisfy your malice. You lack the ability to distinguish conflicted allies from enemies, giving no one a second thought, even if they are your own family. I'm leaving before you attempt to murder any more of our people."

He passes under a stone arch and disappears into a back room.

A door creaks, and silence follows. He's gone.

Ivan's attention lands on the hooded archers. Their bows are already packed away on their backs. They never had any intention of shooting me. I should've known considering that Jacob used to be a member of this group, and he wouldn't have associated himself with men who are eager to murder people.

They turn away from Ivan and follow after Titus.

"Are you all fools?" Ivan says. "Do you all side with the vampires that trampled our land?"

Without a word, they disappear under the stone arch. The backdoor creaks again as they exit the chapel.

Ivan is left standing alone on the stage. He's unarmed.

I walk forward, my blade leading me. "Get out."

"Julia, you-"

"Get out!" I storm forward, sword extended. I have no family. This is just a man who's trying to kill Rahlan. While he's in this building, Rahlan's not safe, and I have no problem hurting a man I clearly don't know.

He slowly backs up, raising his hands. "Listen-"

I whip Rahlan's blade through the air, and the tip passes just inches from his shirt. My next strike will cut his skin.

Spinning around, he rushes out through the same arch as the others. The backdoor slams shut a moment later.

With the immediate threats gone, I rush back to Rahlan. Dropping the sword, I kneel beside his still form. "Rahlan..."

He's lying with his cheek pressed against the stone. His eyes are closed, and his cape is tangled around his legs.

"Wake up." I shake his shoulders, but his body remains limp.

Tears prick my eyes. He's not dead. He's just asleep. He's not dead. He's just asleep.

I lift his shoulder, pulling him over with a groan. He must have bones of iron to be so heavy. He's not dead. There's no way an oil could hurt someone as tough as him. It's impossible.

I strain to let him down gently onto his back. His head lolls onto the stone. He's not dead.

"Rahlan, please wake up." I raise his head up off the hard floor and rest it on my lap. My fingers touch his cheek. His skin is cold, but he's always cold. Why won't he wake up?