CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

Blake could not comprehend the sight unfolding before him. It was one thing to see a vampire army approaching. That was shock enough. But it was quite another to see McCleod’s men—the human warriors they had grown to love and to trust—betraying them, attacking them. There was no doubt about it: Blake could see from the scowls on their faces, from the way they were charging, that it was an ambush.

Blake stood on the roof of the castle, with Aiden’s men, other vampires he knew and loved—Taylor and Tyler and Caine and Barbara, and scores of others—along with the dozens of other vampires in for the wedding, and knew that there cause was hopeless. They were terribly outnumbered, and the enemy had the advantage of surprise, speed, and superior weaponry. Blake looked around, and wished he saw Polly or Sam somewhere, wished that Caitlin and Caleb were back. But none of them were. They were left on their own, to fend for themselves. The few of them left on the castle rooftop against the thousa