I gape at her, taking in her flawless face, coifled hair, perfectly tailored black silk dress, nipping and flowing in all the right places, all of it highlighting her breathtaking beauty, and when she runs her hand through her shiny copper-tinged hair, I see her ouroboros tattoo. But as soon as I blink, it's vanished again.

"So let's see, you thought Damen was leading you here, summoning you, against your will. Sorry to disappoint you, Ever, but it was me, the whole elaborate ruse, created by me. I just love December twenty-first, don't you? The winter solstice, or longest night, all of those ridiculous goths partying in some dopey canyon." She shrugs, her elegant shoulders rising and falling, the tattoo on her wrist coming in and out of view: "Pardon my flair for the dramatic. Though it does keep life interesting, don't you agree?"

I try to pull away again, but she grips me that much tighter, her nails digging in, eliciting a terrible sharp ache as they pierce right through my flesh.

"Now let's just say that I did let you go. What would you do?

Run away? I'm faster. Look for your friend? Oops, my bad. Haven's not even here. It seems I've sent her to the wrong party, in the wrong canyon. She's wandering around as we speak., pushing and shoving through hundreds of ridiculous vampire wannabes, looking for me." She laughs. "I thought we'd enjoy a smaller, more intimate gathering." She smiles, her eyes sweeping over me. "And it looks like our guest of honor is here."

"What do you want?" I say, gritting my teeth as she tightens her hold, the bones in my wrist giving way, crushing against each other in unbearable pain.

"Don't rush me." She narrows her amazing green eyes on mine. "AII in good time. Now where was I before you so rudely interrupted? Ah, yes, we were talking about you, how you ended up here, and how it's not turning out anything like you expected. But then, nothing in your life is what you expected, is it? And, truth be told, it never has, was, or I suspect, will be. You see, Damen and I go way back. I'm talking way, way, way, way, way-well, you get the picture. And yet, despite all of those years together, despite our longevity, you just keep showing up and getting in the way"

I gaze at the ground, wondering how I could've been so stupid, so naive. None of this was ever about Haven-it was all about me.

"Aw, don't be so hard on yourself. This isn't the first time you've made this mistake.

I've been responsible for your demise, for, let's see-how many lifetimes?" She shrugs.

"Well, I guess I lost count."

And suddenly I remember what Damen said, in the parking lot, about not being able to lose me again. But when I look at her and see her face harden and change, I clear my mind of such thoughts, knowing she can read them.

She walks around me, swinging my arm as she goes, making me spin in circles before her as she clucks her tongue against the inside of her cheek. "Let's see, if memory serves, and it always does, then the last few times we played a little game called Trick or Treat. And I think it's only fair to inform you up front that it didn't really work out so well for you. Still, you never seem to tire of it, so I thought perhaps you'd like to try it again?"

I gaze at her, dizzy from the spinning, the residual alcohol clinging to my veins, her thinly veiled threat.

"Ever watch a cat kill a mouse?" She smiles, eyes glowing, as her tongue snakes around the outside of her lips. "How they toy with their poor pathetic prey for the longest time, until they finally get bored and finish the job?"

I close my eyes, not wanting to hear any more. Thinking that if she's so intent on killing me then why doesn't she just hurry up and do it already?

"Well that would be the treat, at least for me." She laughs. "And the trick? Aren't you curious about the trick?" And when I don't respond, she sighs. "Well, you're rather dull, aren't you? Though I suppose I'll tell you anyway You see, the trick is-I pretend to let you go, then I stand back and watch as you run around in circles, trying to evade me, until you finally wear yourself out, and I proceed toward the treat. So what'll it be? Slow death? Or agonizingly slow death? Come on, hurry up, clock's ticking!"

"Why do you want to kill me?" I look at her. "Why can't you just let me be? Damen and I aren't even a couple, I haven't seen him for weeks!"

But she just laughs. "Nothing personal, Ever. But Damen and I always seem to get along so much better once you've been eliminated."

And even though I thought I wanted a quick demise, I've now changed my mind. I refuse to give up without a fight. Even if it's one I'm destined to lose.

She shakes her head and looks at me, disappointment marring her face. "And so it is. You choose trick, right?" She shakes her head. "Very well then, off you go!"

She lets go of my arm and I flee through the canyon, knowing there's probably nothing that can save me, but knowing I still have to try. I push the hair from my eyes and race blindly through the fog, hoping to locate the trail, get back to where I started.

My lungs threatening to explode in my chest, as my flip-flops break and abandon my feet, but still I run. Running as the sharp cold rocks slice into my soles. Running as a searing hot pain burns a hole through my ribs. Running past trees whose sharp, unadorned branches snatch at my jacket and rip it right off me. Running for my life; even though I'm not sure it's worth living.

And as I'm running, I remember another time I ran like this. But also like my dream, I have no idea how it ends.

I've just reached the edge of the clearing that leads back to the trail, when Drina steps out of the mist and stands right before me.

And even though I dodge, and try to move past her, she lifts one languid leg and assists me in a face plant.

I lie on the ground, blinking into a pool of my own blood, listening to the derisive laughter she directs right at me. And when I tentatively touch my face, my nose flops to the side, and I know that it's broken.

I struggle to stand, spitting rocks from my mouth, cringing in dismay as a stream of blood and teeth tumble out too. And I watch as she shakes her head and says, "Wow, you look awful, Ever." She grimaces in disgust. "Seriously awful. One wonders what Damen ever saw in you."

My body's racked with pain, my breath's shallow, unsteady, as mouthfuls of blood coat my tongue with a taste that's metallic and bitter.

"Well, I suppose you'll want all the details, even though you won't remember them the next time around. Still, it's always fun to see the shock on your face when I explain it to you." She laughs. "I don't know why, but for some reason, I never bore of this particular episode, no matter how many times we re-run it. Plus, if I'm going to be perfectly honest, then I have to admit it allows for a deliciously prolonged pleasure. Kind of like foreplay, not that you would know anything about that. All these lifetimes and somehow you always die a virgin. Which would be so sad, if it wasn't so funny." She scoffs. "So, where to begin, where to begin?" She looks at me, lips pursed, red-manicured nails tapping the sides of her hips. "Okay, well, as you know, I'm the one who swapped the picture from the one in your trunk. I mean, you as the woman with the yellow hair? I. Don't. Think. So. And between you and me, Picasso would've been furious. Still, I do love him. Damen, that is. Not that old dead artist." She laughs. "Anywho, let's see, I planted the feather." She rolls her eyes. "Damen can be so-maudlin. Oh, I even planted that dream in your head. How's that for months of mysterious foreshadowing? And no, I'm not going to explain all the hows and whys because that would take too long, and, quite frankly, it's hardly important where you're going. Too bad you didn't just die in that accident, because you could've saved us both a lot of trouble. Do you have any idea how much damage you've caused? I mean, because of you Evangeline is dead and Haven-well, look how close she came. I mean, really Ever, how selfish of you."