The reality of my situation suddenly overwhelmed me. A moment ago I had not been a vampire. At least, not as far as I was concerned. Now, as I greedily gulped down the blood of this strange girl, I was truly initiated. She moaned, and the sound vibrated through me like an electrical current. The implications of what I’d done made me nauseous. The possibility that I might not really be a vampire at all flashed through my mind. Maybe I made the whole thing up. Tearing my mouth from her neck, I struggled not to vomit.

“Hey! What’s wrong?” Dahlia shouted.

I didn’t answer her. From the shadows, someone ordered us to keep quiet. I couldn’t control my sobbing. I frantically grabbed the spilled contents of my purse and tried to stuff them back inside with shaking hands.

“Where are you going?” Dahlia asked, one hand on her neck. I expected to see blood flowing from the wound, but when she moved her fingers there was nothing but a faint bruise.

I wiped my nose on the back of my hand and winced in pain. My whole face was sore.

My compact lay innocently on the ground. I picked it up and checked my reflection.

My face, usually pretty by most people’s standards, was twisted into a vision of horror. Cruel eyes peered out under a flattened brow. My cheekbones sloped down, forming a snout with my bizarrely elongated upper jaw. I pulled back my lips. My teeth were unevenly spaced in their roomy new setting, my canines lengthened into sharp points.

I’d seen Nathan transform this way, and my nightmares were filled with visions of John Doe’s monstrous face, but I’d never considered such a thing could happen to me. I screamed and scrambled to my feet.

I fled from the donor house, gulping the fresh air as if it were water and I a lost traveler in the desert. Dahlia followed me. She leaned against the scorched cinder blocks and watched me check and recheck my face in the mirror. The demon was gone. A frightened woman stared back. My breath escaped in great white puffs of steam.

“Poor baby.” She put on her long black coat and hugged it tightly around her waist. She wore the same coat, I realized, and used the same gesture as the girl I’d followed into the club. But I hadn’t followed Dahlia…

She shook her head, laughing. “You guys never learn. You think you’re so smart. ‘Oh, we’re at the top of the food chain.’”

She pulled out a pocketknife and idly ran it up and down her neck. “The fact is, there’s power out there your kind can’t understand.”

I stared at her in fascination. “What are you talking about?”

She smiled. “Poor baby. Daddy didn’t bother to tell you anything, did he? Just ran right out after he got what he wanted.” Her mouth formed a momentary picture of disgust. “That’s so like him.”

With a flick of her wrist, she punctured her taut skin with the knife. A drop of blood welled and shivered on the surface of the wound before it broke and rolled down her neck.