A giggle from far off, and the other girls are coming, Rowan and Vervain leading them. All the ones without heartbeats. Every night they meet us in this spot where I once buried the urn, buried my fear. They meet us, and I share every secret I’ve ever held in my heart.

“I’ll tell you everything about what we are,” I say to them, and they listen. They listen, even though there are no guarantees.

We’ll never stop hungering. Nothing can change that. And what they become isn’t up to me. It’s their move, it’s their choice. I can’t make them promise to behave, to banish their bloodlust like it’s no more than a bad habit. I can’t trust them because I can’t even always trust myself. Together, we might rip this town apart.

Or maybe we’ll do something else. Maybe we’ll prove that just because you come from a monster, it doesn’t make you one.

Their soft voices lilt up from the canyon, and the wolves lope in eager circles, ready for the evening to begin.

With the moonlight slicing through the clouds, I unknit my hands in my lap and glance down at my palms. My lifeline’s gone now. So are my second chances. This is it, my last go-around. My last time to prove Dracula wrong. To prove I’m more than just the girl who withers in his shadow.

And with the gloom of California brimming in my heart, I’m going to make it count.

acknowledgments

First and foremost, thank you to my husband, Bill, who is a force of nature when it comes to supporting my writing. Personally, I wouldn’t want to be married to a moody author, but he seems to manage just fine, and I appreciate it more than I can ever express.

So many thanks to Christa Carmen and Sara Tantlinger for listening to me talk about every single aspect of this book to the point that they probably wanted to mute my messages on Facebook. I’m certainly grateful they didn’t mute me, and I seriously encourage everyone to read their books, because they’re not only amazing friends, but also two of the most incredible horror authors writing today.