I've always hated doing CPR. Most of my experience with it came from the E.R., on seventy-and-over patients who'd gone into cardiac arrest. Their ribs were usually so brittle from bone loss they cracked like wishbones under my hands.

Bella was built stronger than that, whether by virtue of being younger, or because of her species, I have no idea. I got through the first set of compressions without breaking her bones. "Breathe now!"

Max didn't hesitate. Bella's chest inflated with the force of the incoming oxygen, but it fell again when Max pulled away.

I gripped her wrist—still nothing—then began another set of compressions.

At the cessation of compressions, blood traveling through the heart slows. Resuming the process doesn't bring the circulation back up to speed. It's like accelerating to seventy, dropping to fifty, speeding up to sixty, then dropping to forty. Bella's fingernails showed signs of cyanosis. Blue is never a promising color.

But we didn't have to call for help. This time when Max breathed for her, her body shuddered and she choked to life, taking great, panicked breaths.

"Bella, you're fine, you're fine," I assured her, checking again for a pulse. Though a little slow, it was strong. I nearly sobbed with relief.

"Calm down, baby," Max urged, brushing her hair back. "Just calm down. You're fine."

She opened and closed her mouth, vomited spectacularly, then visibly relaxed, shutting her eyes as her head dropped back to the floor.

"Let's get her to a bed," Max said, scooping her up.

Bella's eyes opened to slits and she laughed weakly. "Always trying to get me into your bed, vampire."

"You know it." If Bella's eyes hadn't closed again, she would surely have seen the mix of relief and sadness, and the determination not to show them, that crossed Max's face.

"You take care of her. I'll tell Nathan not to call the paramedics," I offered. Max and Bella needed time alone. If near death wouldn't inspire them to talk without sniping at each other, nothing would.

I found Nathan in the kitchen, slumped over the island with the phone in his hands. When he looked up, his eyes were rimmed with red. "Is she—"

"She's fine." I pulled out the stool next to his and climbed onto it. "Banged up, but she'll pull through. I'm not so sure about you, though."

Nathan sniffed and tried to cover it with a laugh. "Oh, I'll be fine. Just rattled my nerves, is all."

Because she was possessed.

My gaze dropped to his arm, where he'd rolled up the sleeve of his sweater. Though vampires heal quickly, for some reason the self-inflicted marks he'd carved under the Soul Eater's influence had never completely faded.

I went to his side and put my arms around him. "It still bothers you."