A gun I had been brought down by a gun. It was practically comical. Cheaters, I thought. I’d spent my life focusing on hand to hand combat, learning to dodge fangs and powerful hands that could snap my neck. A gun? It was so… well, easy. Should I be insulted? I didn’t know. Did it matter? I didn’t know that either. All I knew in that moment was that I was going to die, regardless.

Life and death were so unpredictable. So close to each other. We existed moment to moment, never knowing who would be the next to leave the world. I was still in it, barely, and as I looked up from the ashes, everything around me seemed so sweet and so beautiful. The trees. The stars. The moon. I was alive -- and I was glad I was.

It matters to me. That's what you don't get. You can't understand. You can't understand what it's like knowing what I did. That whole time being Strigoi...It's like a dream now, but it's one I remember clearly. There can be no forgiveness for me. And what happened with you? I remember that most of all. Everything I did. Everything I wanted to do.

And so, surpassing my own records for dangerous, reckless behavior, I ripped off Sonya's bracelet. "I'm Rose Hathaway.

Shouldn't that be flipped right-side up?" I asked. "No," she said, eyes on the cards. After several moments of heavy silence, said, "You will destroy that which is undead." I waited about thirty seconds for her to continue, but she didn't. "Wait, that's it?" She nodded. "That's what the cards say to me.

She studied him for a few more seconds. “You look too pretty to be useful.” I gasped in spite of myself. Adrian chuckled and shook her hand. “Truer words were never spoken,” he said.

Just friends, just friends. Standing there in the bookstore, watching Seth walk away, I half wondered how anyone could still use that line. But I knew why, of course. It was used because people still believed it. Or at least they wanted to.