“Then I can kill him now?” Robby muttered.

Angus ignored him. “Ye have two minutes, Stan. Talk.”

“And then I can kill him?” Robby asked a bit louder.

Angus shot him an annoyed look.

“I came to America seven years ago,” Stanislav began. “Me and three vampire friends from Moscow. We wanted…new life with no tyranny and no terror. We went to coven in Brooklyn so we could learn English. We hoped to get jobs someday and our own place—”

“The American dream.” Phineas pretended to wipe away a tear. “I’m getting choked up.”

Stan scowled at him. “But all we found was more tyranny. Ivan Petrovsky liked to capture mortal women for food and sex. If we did not follow orders, he would kill them. He killed so many, and he abused the vampire women. I was glad when Katya and Galina murdered him.”

“So you just fell in with the wrong crowd.” Phineas rolled his eyes. “Where have I heard that one before?”

“My friends and I, we hated following orders from the ones you call Malcontents, but we knew if we try to escape, they would kill us. I lost two friends in battle. And last night—” Stan glanced away, his eyes watering. “My last friend died. Nadia killed him because he was blond.”

Phineas winced. “Tough break.”

“Isn’t she the one who stabbed Toni?” Emma asked Zoltan, and he nodded.

“Nadia is crazy bitch,” Stan growled. “And Casimir put her in charge of the coven.”

“Bummer. So what do you want from us?” Phineas motioned to Stan’s white-blond hair. “Some L’Oréal hair color? I’m not sure you’re worth it.”

“I want asylum. If you can hide me from Malcontents, I will tell you everything I know.”

The Vamps grew silent as the Russian’s request sank in.

“Doona trust him,” Robby whispered. “He did nothing while they tortured me.”

“Robby has a point,” Angus said, regarding the Russian sternly. “Ye’ve never given us reason to trust you.”