The guard returned, pushing a girl through the doors. Nathan turned, instantly aware of the scent of fear and blood.

The girl wrestled with the guard who held her captive. Her arms were bound behind her back. The buttons of her dress were fastened out of order and the thin fabric hung, limp and dirty, around her body. Her feet were bare, and bloody with scratches.

"This one has tried to escape a few times, as well," the Soul Eater said, stroking Nathan's hair. "It's your right, you know. You're not like them anymore."

Above the strip of cloth that gagged her, the girl's eyes widened. Her hair was dark, like Marianne's.

"Do what you will with her. She is yours." The Soul Eater stepped back, and Nathan turned, looking for reassurance, an absolution, maybe.

The girl screamed, and he ran. He was on her in an instant, holding her down, whispering apologies that weren't meant for her, before he tore into her throat.

And I was in the apartment again, shivering.

"You know I would never do those things, not on my own," Nathan said, his voice pleading. "But that is what he's like. He finds your weakness and he chips away… You don't know he's doing it."

"I'll be careful." But I couldn't stop shaking, and I couldn't get the sound of the girl's screams out of my head. Or the touch of the Soul Eater. Though his hands had been on Nathan, they might as well have been clutching me.

And I feared they soon would be.

Chapter Twenty-One
From Bad…

They came for them, eventually. Max had no idea what time it was. Since the accident, time seemed to be constantly slipping away.

When the door opened, Bella woke with a start, her face creased in confusion. Then she seemed to take in her surroundings, and horror replaced it. "No!"

"Hey, you stop that," he admonished. "Have I ever died before?"

Really, it was going to be hard enough to get tortured without having to remember her sobbing and wailing as they dragged him from this room. He'd much rather hold the image of ice-cold-bitch Bella making fun of him for being a pussy, while they did God knew what to him.

"Good morning, good morning," a mocking voice called from the door. A vampire stepped in, cocky smile pasted on his face.

The smile that usually preceded a gory, horrible death for the smiler. Things were looking up.

Two more vampires followed him, both carrying cross-bows. They had stakes in holsters at their hips, like gunslingers-in-training, and they acted bored with their work, a sure sign they were overconfident.

Bella noticed, too. Her despair turned at once to flinty resolve. She mouthed, "The one on the right first," kissed Max and wheeled herself out of the way.