I’d expected that Jordan would’ve gotten the worst of it, but he looked fine.

“You all right?” I asked him.

“Unbreakable, apparently,” he said, approaching me to brush the hair back from my forehead to check out my wound. He gave it a quick kiss.

“Gross,” I said, blushing, and turned away toward the black SUV still sitting in the middle of the intersection. Aside from its scrunched front end, the car looked in decent shape—the windshield hadn’t even cracked—yet the driver had yet to exit, and with its dark tinted windows, I couldn’t see who was inside.

“Maggie!” called out a high-pitched female voice, and there was Jessica George, my old chemistry lab partner, running up from one of the nearby houses. “Oh, my God, are you okay? We saw that car broadside you!”

“I’m fine, but—” I said, and turned back to Tico, who now was propped up on his elbows.

“I’m good, I’m good,” he said.

“You’re in concussion protocol is what you are,” Suzanne said.

“Hey, guys,” Jessica said with a wave, her bobbed red hair glowing under the streetlights.

“Hey,” Tico and Suzanne grunted.

We all looked toward the other car.

“That guy just rammed you,” Jessica said in a hushed tone.

“I’d better check whether he’s okay,” Jordan said, walking toward the car.

“Why do you assume it’s a he?” Suzanne asked.

Jordan waved over his head and tried the driver’s-side handle, then rapped on the window. “Hello? You okay?” He cupped his hands over the window and peered in. “Oh, shit!” he exclaimed, backpedaling away.

Just then sirens blared and spinning lights illuminated the scene as a cop car pulled up. Deputy Ruby got out—it was good to see he’d gotten a new ride—spit some tobacco onto the road, and asked, “Everybody all right?”

Jordan was still backing away from the black SUV when the door opened and a grotesque figure emerged.

“Ahh …” came a voice that sounded like razor blades being gargled.

Deputy Ruby aimed his flashlight at the driver’s face, and the skin was peeled back, exposing teeth and jawbone.

“Oh, shit,” I muttered.

Jordan hadn’t been kidding about this guy.

Alpha.

I didn’t think anyone else could hear my muted swear, but Alpha must have had supersensitive ears, because he turned right toward me.

“Margaret—ah—Gooding,” he said as if repeating what was on the menu for dinner.

Gulp.

“Do not be afraid, my dear,” he continued, stepping toward me. “I hear only good things: that you’re something of a scientist who—ah—does very well in school. High test scores, too.”

“Who told you that?”

“Ishango, of course. She values such things in a human.”

Deputy Ruby took a couple of tentative steps toward Alpha.

“Are you okay, sir?” he asked.

“Ah—Rho!” Alpha called over the officer’s shoulder in a delighted sort of wheeze. “You are most troublesome, but it’s good to see you.”

“I’m surprised you’re out in the open,” Jordan said. “I thought you just lurked around the power plant to hide your broken Halloween mask of a face.”