Mara

Nine years ago Deacon Rook turned me, walked out of my life, and left me to learn the rules of the dark on my own. Now a patient has died on my ward and got back up, and Rook is standing in the doorway like no time has passed. The old court wants nine souls before the new moon. He has one. The binding won't let him near anyone else — and it won't let him leave me. So we take the eight. Church basements, after-hours clubs, a club owner in Hamtramck who rents to things that don't breathe. Every soul I take costs me a year of control. I can feel the nurse going out of me. Eight names down. The ninth is the man I'm sharing a roof with. The court never said who has to pay.