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Glass shatters, raining down around us. Ellery is standing over him with a broken bottle in her trembling hand. She smashed it over his back. She’s upright. Both arms. Both legs. Alive. The anguish on her face says she wants to sink the shards into his side, but she’s not a killer. And I won’t let her become one for me.

The brute turns toward her, forgetting I exist. From the ground, I punch him hard enough to snap his head sideways. His weight shifts, and I get a knee between us and shove, sending him toppling backward.

This guy isn’t built for speed. I’m up before he is, and I don’t want this taking any longer than it has to, not with her standing there. He’s slow to follow, and I’m already behind him. His meaty arms flail after me, but he doesn’t come close. My palms press at the sides of his face, squeezing as I twist. There’s a sharp wrench, and he drops to the ground in a heap.

It’s not enough to kill, just incapacitate him until his bones mend. I cross to the pile of broken crates and pick the sharpest piece of wood I can find. With my boot, I roll him over and plunge the stake into his heart. He won’t be waking up again.

“Nick?”

I turn. She sways; her face ashen. Her eyes move from the lifeless body at my feet to my bloody shirt, and stumble over my fangs, and I know I must look exactly like the monster that attacked her.

I take one step toward her. She retreats, so I stay where I am.

Her wide eyes flick between me and the dead guy until they finally stop on me. This is it, the moment she realizes what I am and runs. She should run far from Ravenslight Creek and forget this entire town. Forget she ever met me.

“You’re a vampire.” Her voice shakes. She’s not asking. Just another fact she’s uncovered and accepted as truth.

For the briefest of moments, I think about finding a version of this she can live with. But what could I even say that would blunt the facts in front of her? The body on the ground, the blood sprayed across my shirt, the fangs I haven’t been able to put away. The mouth that kissed her.

I was going to tell her everything tonight, and now the darkest parts of my world have been forced on her before I could.

“Yes.”

I don’t move, afraid of spooking her.

“You saved my life.” She sags a little. Then she flinches, rubbing her knuckles against her sternum, and her shoulders ratchet back up. “You lied to me.”

She stalks forward until she’s so close I have to look down to see her. Whatever she has to say, I will stand here and take it.

“You could’ve told me this weeks ago.” She thumps her fists against my chest. “I would’ve understood, Nick. I would’ve. But you didn’t give me a chance.”

She hits me again, harder. It doesn’t hurt. I wish it did.

I don’t explain why I couldn’t. I let her keep going until the tears dry up and her fists open.

This is my fault. I should’ve been here, watching over her, not halfway to Fairbanks following the intruder’s trail until it went dead. I could’ve prevented this.

Her hands stay flat against my chest. “Is this what you were going to talk to me about?”

“Yes.”

“I want to hear it. All of it. From you.”

“Okay.” The street’s empty, but it won’t stay that way. “Not here, though.”

She’s limping and pretending she isn’t on the walk to my house, and I’d carry her if I thought she’d let me. But I’m afraid if I come any closer, she’ll change her mind and leave. So I text Anna as we walk, to keep my hands to myself.

Intruder is dead. I left the body next to the bakery.

When we reach my place, I hold open the front door. She heads straight down the hall to the kitchen, leaving me to follow in her wake.

Once, I’d accused her of hiding. Someone who was running from their problems. Who didn’t belong here. I’d said it to push her out the door, and here she is, walking through mine. I was the one hiding.

Mom and Luca are in the living room, where one or the other has been sitting every night lately, and they rush over when they see Ellery, clothes torn and splattered with blood. Under the lights, the bruises are already forming and her knees are skinned. I want to kill him all over again.

“Honey, what happened?” Mom sends a pointed glance my way as she guides Ellery to the couch. “Is anything broken?”

“Just a raging headache and some cuts.”