“Make me,” she snarled back at him, simultaneously explaining, The pictures in my head showed me. She made it sound so matter-of-fact he couldn’t bring himself to doubt her sources. All I’m seeing is Louden and Hudson and Nevada. And for some reason, the Virgin Mary. Don’t ask me where that all came from. Now, seriously, shove me. That’s all I’ve got, and she’s starting to think something’s up.

As if on cue, Bella stepped into the alley. Her cold gaze fixed on Dahlia. “That was a truly pathetic display. Did you think you would fool me?”

Dahlia raised her hands and shouted arcane words. A glowing ball of blue grew between her fingers. Before she could release it, Bella whipped her arm out and an arc of red light split the sphere in two, knocking Dahlia back violently.

Then the werewolf leveled a crossbow at Max’s chest. The bolt was metal-tipped, with a wooden shaft. A coward’s long-range weapon.

“I warned you,” she reminded him coldly.

He didn’t get time to negotiate. She fired.

Max Harrison doesn’t die in a dirty alley with his fly unzipped. He dodged, but the bolt caught him in the shoulder. With a roar of pain, he fell to the ground.

Bella bent over him and gripped the end of the arrow. Twisting it cruelly, she wrenched it from his flesh. “One more time, vampire. One more time, and you are dead.”

Like a shadow fleeing the light, she was gone.

Dahlia whimpered as she climbed to her feet, though Max suspected her pride hurt more than her body.

“Do you want a ride home?” he offered, though his shoulder leaked like a broken pipe.

She waved him away. “Do what you gotta do. It was good seeing you again…whatever your name is.”

“Max.”

“Yeah, like I’m going to remember that.” She rolled her eyes at him and limped down the alley on a broken boot heel.

Max checked and double-checked the area around the coffee shop before he crossed the street. The last thing he needed was another run-in with Best In Show.

In the car, he retrieved his cell phone and pulled up Carrie’s number.

I drifted in a world of white. No, not white. Light.

Why can I still hear you?

Cyrus’s voice threatened to split my head apart. I blinked against the blazing assault. Though the air was bright, it was cold. Everything was cold. “I don’t want to be here.”

The light flared brighter, and I fell. Before I hit bottom I saw them. Two bodies, tossed carelessly on the floor, like rag dolls. And blood. So much blood.

Then it sucked away, leaving me in a black void. I panicked. Was I dead? Was I dreaming? Why couldn’t I wake up, or move, or open my eyes?

Carrie, relax.