They stared at each other for a long minute. Vaguely, he noted the ticking of the clock in the corner, and the click that registered it was about to chime. When it sounded, they both jumped.

"How did I—"

He cut her off. "I don't know. Do you know anything else?"

"Many things." She trembled openly now, and a tear slid down her cheek. "She killed a sailor sent to check on something in the hold. Hold. That is not a word I would use."

"It doesn't come up in a lot of my conversations, either." He brought his clasped hands to his mouth. "Maybe it's a fluke."

"Fluke? I have her memories in my head. You think that is a fluke?" Bella moved as if to get out of bed, and Max put his arm out to stop her.

"You've had a bad night. Just take it easy." He tucked the blankets in around her legs.

"Take it easy?" she screamed, kicking the covers back. "Do not tell me this! I have been used as a puppet!"

"Look, there's no reason to panic. At least, not yet. She didn't have enough power to continue inhabiting you."

Bella covered her face with her hands. "Why me? I am not one of you. Why did she not seek one of her kind?"

"I don't know." He'd wondered the same thing. More specifically, he'd wondered why it had to be Bella instead of himself. He would have gladly changed places.

She tried again to get out of bed, but her arms shook, not up to the task. She fell buck on the bed with a startled cry, as if pain and muscle fatigue were things she'd never experienced.

He moved to help her, repeating, "Take it easy. You really took a beating tonight."

"A beating?" She snorted. "I am strong. Nothing the Oracle could do to me would matter."

"You were suspended five feet off the ground and she dropped you. And I'm sure your ribs hurt after the CPR."

Smooth, Max.

"CPR?" She frowned.

Max rolled his eyes. "Cardiopulmonary resuscitation. You kind of… died."

"Died?" She bolted upright.

"Just for a second!" He held out his hands, prepared to stop her if she tried get up again. "Minutes at most. Carrie brought you right back."

Bella raised her fist as though to strike him. He braced himself, so he wouldn't flinch when she hit him.

But she didn't. She broke into sobs.

Max, having long ago dismissed the idea that werewolves, Bella in particular, had feelings, had no clue how to deal with the situation. In his mind, female tears were like acid, and he had never willingly wetted himself with that.

Still, Bella was usually so unshakable, so collected, so stone cold… It killed him to know something could bother her so much.