The silence after the stake hit was deafening.

The vampire who had been struck fell to the floor, smoke curling from his chest as he clutched at the wood. His mask had been knocked askew, baring his feral snarl.

With a guttural roar, he yanked the stake free, and before Chloe's wide eyes, the wound closed, knitting together with obscene speed.

The crowd of masked vampires whispered like a restless sea. Some drew closer, others stepped back, but all of them stared toward the dais where ...