He opened his eyes and looked at me, and for a moment there was something wrong in him. Something not Myrnin at all.

It hurts. It shouldn’t still hurt. Something’s wrong. I need to … to wake up ….

No. There was no pain. I was fine. Everything was fine.

“We should definitely celebrate that we did not die,” Myrnin said. “I believe you’re all old enough for champagne, are you not?”

“Yes,” I said, and heard Michael and Eve chorus from the front.

“No,” Claire blurted, and her cheeks turned adorably pink. “Oh, come on, you already knew that. And by the way, none of us are legal drinkers yet.”

“We’re old enough to carry flamethrowers,” I pointed out. “And shotguns.”

“I know, and it’s not that I would turn it down. I just wanted to be … on the record. That we’re not old enough for any of this.”

I kissed her forehead, because that was just … cute.

Something’s eating me. Oh God, I can feel it …. The pain …

But that was wrong, because I’d escaped. We’d all escaped.

It was all just … fine.

By the time we reached Founder’s Square, things were happening. We couldn’t see them from the back of the truck, but Michael relayed a constant stream of information as he drove. Police cars were speeding out of the secured area instead of into it. Word there was that flushing nitrate through the lines had worked—worked lots better than we’d ever expected. The draug were trying to escape, but they’d been poisoned.

They were dying.

You’re dying. Wake up. It felt like my own voice, screaming inside, but it made no sense, no sense at all. Everything was going perfectly.

We were taking back our town.

The next few hours were a confused blur. Oliver ignored us and ordered us back to the room where we’d slept, and that was okay, because after all the danger and adrenaline I was bone-tired, and I could tell Claire and Eve were asleep on their feet, too. I don’t think any of us expected it to be quite that … fast.

Claire and I zipped our sleeping bags together and fell asleep spooned together. I thought I’d sleep soundly; I had good reason to, but instead I kept feeling the sharp, digging stings, needles burrowing and probing inside me, and even though I knew it was a dream, just a dream, nothing, it kept me awake.

Whimpering.

Afraid.

Something’s eating you, Shane.

No. I was fine. Everything was fine.

I finally dozed, and woke up to find Amelie standing in the doorway. I’m not big on impressing the vamps, but there was something a little unfair about facing the Queen Bee with bed-head and morning breath. I guess the most important thing, though, was that she was awake, and standing up, and actually seemed better. Oliver was with her, looking like a scowling black crow, but I think that was mostly because he was still spoiling for a fight.