CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
I wriggle my toes inside my shoes. I was right—they’re wriggling away. His glamour didn’t work. The vampire blood has left my system and my resistance to glamour is back—or Filth simply isn’t as powerful as Kain when it comes to penetrating my defenses.
I pretend like I am frozen, though, and frantically ponder my next move.
Filth takes a syringe out of his pocket. “I’ve been designated as your executioner. The Council wants me to provide you with a choice between euthanasia”—he waves the syringe in the air—“or starvation.” He nods at the room behind me.
Inside my chest, my heart is jackrabbiting, but I do my best to keep my face placid, as if frozen by glamour.
“I’ll simplify it for you, though.” He turns the syringe needle downward and presses the plunger until a
