Halloran was meant to free them, but Asher has never known a harsher prison.

Hiring a band of outlaws to assassinate the mayor may be a bold move, but Asher Franklin can't take another minute of bowing and scraping to the sadist who runs his hometown. Graveyards teem with the bodies of those have tried and failed to rebel against the powers that be, but the legendary Red Horn Riders hold an invaluable advantage over their predecessors: They're already dead.

Common wisdom would have it that vampires seldom keep faith with humans, though, and the Red Horn Riders are no exception. Halloran, the ruthless bandit at the helm of the gang and Sargasso's prospective savior, would rather claim Asher for his own than grant him the fate he deserves. His unwelcome kindness is Asher's worst nightmare. To be chattel is bad enough. To be the property of the one vampire whose duplicity just cost the lives of Asher's friends is so much worse.

Yet in the ungoverned deserts of the Wild West, vampires are a law unto themselves and terror comes in many forms. Halloran's bite may be sharp, but worse foes roam the sands than Asher can begin to imagine.