They heard a sound that made them freeze and look at each other. It was the scream of a soul dying.

"Sofia!" Jake breathed, guilt and anger crossing his face.

"Stand back," Damian ordered. "Cover the door."

He traced Czerno's path to locate the hallway behind the wall then placed his hands on the stones. They exploded into pebbles and dust. Light from the hidden hall filled the wine cellar. Jilian and a few other vamps were down the hall and turned as the stone wall caved. Sofia's anguished scream was still muffled.

"Sofia!" Jake shouted.

"D, watch out for Jilian. Czerno brought in fifty of his goons. Jilian's-" Dusty called.

"Jake!" Damian shouted as the Traveler disappeared. "Fuck!" He saw Jilian's blow cleave the Traveler apart the moment he materialized down the hall. Jake dropped silently. Damian charged Jilian, Czerno's longtime executioner. Jilian met Damian's sword with his own, barking orders to his vamps.

The screams stopped, and Damian's heart quickened. The period between when an Oracle could be bound and when she permanently died was brief. Jilian's men pounded down the hall. Damian gritted his teeth, unable to unleash the blow that could destroy them all in a blink without taking out Sofia as well.

"D!" Dusty called.

"Busy!" He whipped out the vamp-killing hand cannons and shot the first two of Jilian's men. Several rounds drove him back, and he ducked a blow aimed at his neck by Jilian.

"I'm here!" Dusty materialized beside him, his gun roaring in the narrow hallway as he mowed down Jilian's men.

Damian slashed through Jilian, and the vamp dropped. He hacked him apart until there was nothing but pulp.

"Laney, send in everything!" Dusty barked into his mic. "Now!"

Vamps jammed both directions of the hall, and Damian sensed Czerno making a beeline for the room behind the wall in front of them.

"Hold 'em, Dusty," Damian shouted and placed his hands on the wall.

"Got it," Dusty said, reloading before his hand cannons began roaring again.

The wall before him burst into dust, and Damian crawled through the opening, firing a full clip at Czerno's form at the other end. The mansion rocked as Dusty's first set of explosions went off. The ceiling began to crumble. A second explosion threw him across the room. Czerno disappeared as chunks of stone ceiling piled in front of the doorway.

Damian rose, sickened by the sight before him. Sofia lay on the cold steel table, her tears still wet but her eyes open and staring blankly. A tube ran from her neck to the vat of blood on the floor. What had started as a stream of blood had slowed to a few remaining drops. Fury filled him. A stone dropped from the ceiling into the vat, and warm blood splashed over him.

Dusty joined him, drawing a sharp breath at the sight.

"This place is about to come down," he warned. Damian launched forward, snatching the tube and whipping out a knife.

"Cut me," he ordered.

"You know what you're doing?"

"Think I just got me an Oracle," Damian said grimly. He felt Dusty's gaze on him before it went to the still woman.

"This is more permanent than marriage," Dusty said in a hushed tone.

Damian followed his gaze. He felt fear again, an emotion he hated. Every instinct in his body ached to feel Sofia alive. He didn't know if she'd understand-or forgive him-for what he was about to do to her. He didn't know if he understood what he was doing. But seeing her lifeless on the table made his soul wrench in a way that reminded him of how he'd felt when he found his brother's lifeless body thousands of years ago.

Darian.

"Do it," he ordered. He handed Dusty the knife and pulled off the high-collared vest to expose his throat.

Dusty obeyed and punctured deep into his jugular. Damian shoved the other end of the tube into his neck, releasing his power. He sealed his skin around the tube, forced the flow downward, and placed his hands on her, forcing her body to accept his blood. Dizziness made him lean onto the table, and he loosed his regeneration powers.

Dusty watched in silence. The house was crashing down around them. He couldn't Travel with a dead body; the White God's magic only worked on living things. She needed to have a pulse.

"D!" Dusty shouted as a chunk of stone crushed a stainless steel cabinet.

"C'mon, c'mon," Damian urged, watching for signs of life in the woman. He forced his blood out faster and faster.

"We gotta go!" Dusty yelled, slapping him on the back. "Now!"

He felt the flicker of a pulse and prayed it was enough. Damian carefully gathered the woman into his arms and closed his eyes. Dizziness washed over him, and he his body strained to Travel. Silence, and he opened his eyes to find himself kneeling on the NOVA Sector's kitchen floor. Her eyes were closed, but color bloomed in her cheeks.

"D, put her down. Laney, get the defib!" Dusty barked.

Damian ordered his body to cease the transfusion and pulled the tube from his neck, healing the tear. He gently removed the tube from the Oracle and placed his hand over the wound to heal it. He touched her face, exhausted for the first time in years. He leaned against the cabinets behind him.

"Move, D," Dusty ordered, snatching the defibrillator from Laney. He cut her shirt open while it charged and placed the paddles against her chest. Her body bucked, and her eyes flew open. The Oracle gasped.

Dusty felt for her pulse before resting against the cabinets opposite him. Damian met his gaze, and they sat in the kitchen, bloodied and breathing hard as they recovered.

"Jule's gonna be pissed we didn't invite him," Dusty said at last and pulled off his gloves, tossing them.

"He would've tried to talk us out of it anyway," Damian said. "He's not as violent as we are."

"I think you mean not as violent as I am. He gives me shit all the time," Dusty corrected him. "Congrats, ikir. You are the proud owner of an Oracle. You figure out how to train one?"

"No fucking clue," Damian admitted with a ruthless grin.

"May the gods help you. I sure can't."

"What is she?" Laney asked, returning to the kitchen. Damian rose and pulled Dusty to his feet.

"That, Laney, is my Oracle," he said. "Watch her for a bit while we go back and clean up what's left of Czerno's goons."

Laney's eyebrows shot up, and he looked at the unconscious, blood-spattered woman.

"Yes, ikir," he murmured and knelt, lifting Sofia off the ground. "I'll take care of her."

She stared at the sunbeams moving across the ceiling, not remembering where she was or how she arrived. Her memories wiggled their way out of the mud of her mind, and she sat upright. She was alive! She touched her face, her arms, her body. At the memory of the pain, she began to shake.

It's over!

Yet the sensation of fire creeping through her remained. She suddenly realized the curtains were open, and the sun streaming into her window didn't hurt her eyes. Her memories overshadowed, she threw open the curtains. She shoved the cracked balcony door all the way open. She bathed in the midmorning sun. Morning air had never tasted so wonderful! She didn't have to wear sunglasses indoors anymore, didn't have to hide from moonlight!

"You look good."

She whirled, heart leaping at the sound. Han sat in the corner of her room nearest the door.

"I can go outside!" she exclaimed. "I'm cured!"

"More or less," he said. She looked again at the sunlit courtyard beyond her window.

"I'm here again," she murmured, troubled, and faced Han. "I'm ... transformed?"

Han nodded grimly.

"Isn't that good?" she prodded. "Isn't it what you all wanted?"

"It is," he confirmed.

"You don't look happy."

"It all turned out well, I guess," he said at last. "As long as you're okay?"

"I am. I can go outside again." She sat to pull on shoes and saw the scars around her wrists, evidence of her fight against the bindings Jilian used to strap her onto the table. "Han, what happened to me?"

"It's better you don't remember."

"I do remember. At least, part of it I remember. Jilian injected me with something to kill me," she paused, shuddering at the flash of residual pain from the memories. "Did he succeed?"

"Yes."

"So I died?"

"You did."

"What happened then?" Her eyes closed at the bizarre news. How many people lived to hear they'd died?

"Ask Damian."

She shuddered, afraid to face him after ditching him as she had before. No doubt he'd had to do some terrible things to free her from Czerno.

"Is Jilian dead?"

"Damn straight."

"I told him so," she said softly, disturbed. "Is Damian okay?"

"Yes."

"Then why are you upset?"

"We lost Jake." Jake's death flashed through her thoughts.

"Jilian killed him," she said.

"Yes."

Because of me. Sofia slumped. As much as Jake annoyed her, he was still her friend. And he'd brought her somewhere where she could be safe.

"Han, can I be alone?"

He complied. Sofia crawled into bed and cried again. She'd not only seen his death-she'd caused it! Her heart ached for her friend. She cried until she was too tired to cry more and drifted into a vision, reliving the few moments she spent with Jilian.

You must die first.

... an Oracle must be bound ...

for all eternity ...

She jerked out of the memory with a cry. Han slammed the door open, and she squeezed her eyes closed, expecting the light from the hallway to hurt her. When it didn't, she uncurled herself from the ball she was in. Han's gaze swept over her before he retreated outside her door.

It was dark outside. She'd wasted her first day of light. She forced herself out of bed, exhausted and hungry. She took a shower and padded through the quiet mansion to the kitchen.

"At least I don't crave peanut butter anymore," she murmured as she went through the contents of the fridge.

In fact, she didn't crave anything anymore. Her stomach grumbled but the thought of a ham sandwich disgusted her. She made one anyway and forced herself to eat it, blaming her recent trauma for her queasiness. Five minutes later, she bent over a toilet, paying homage to the porcelain gods.

"My God!" she gargled between bouts of heaving.

Han watched, handing her a wet wash cloth when she was done.

"Han!" she wailed. "What's wrong with me?"

"Ask Damian."

"I knew you'd say that," she muttered.

Though nauseated by the thought, she heated up a can of soup and forced herself to eat it. The soothing warmth slid down her throat. Five minutes later, it returned, scorching her throat on the way out. She wiped her mouth again and flung the rag against the wall, chest heaving.

"Han, please," she begged. "What can I eat?"

"Damian's in his room. Go see him," Han said, concerned yet unyielding.

"Does he have food?"

"More or less."

"It better be a feast," she growled and stood. She returned to her room to clean herself up, cursing peanut butter for ruining her appetite as she went. A sense of dread filled her as she approached Damian's room. Han hung back, and she turned to him as she knocked.

"Are you coming?"

"Hell no."

"Why not?" If Damian hadn't opened the door, she would have run back to her room. Han was as big as the man before her, and if he feared him ...