“Very good, Mr.—?”“Robinson,” the boy supplied.Ms. Terwilliger produced a clipboard and scanned a list.“Ah, there you are. Robinson. Stephanie.”“Stephan,” corrected the boy, flushing as some of hisfriends giggled.Ms. Terwilliger pushed her glasses up her nose andsquinted. “So you are. Thank goodness. I was just thinkinghow difficult your life must be with such a name. Myapologies. I broke my glasses in a freak croquet accidentthis weekend, forcing me to bring my old ones today. So,Stephan-not-Stephanie, you’re correct. It’s a temple. Canyou be more specific?”...“Indeed it is,” she said. “And your name is?”“Sydney.”“Sydney …” She checked the clipboard and looked up inastonishment. “Sydney Melbourne? My goodness. Youdon’t sound Australian.”“Er, it’s Sydney Melrose, ma’am,” I corrected.Ms. Terwilliger scowled and handed the clipboard toTrey, who seemed to think my name was the funniest thingever. “You take over, Mr. Juarez. Your youthful eyes arebetter than mine. If I keep at this, I’ll keep turning boys intogirls and perfectly nice young ladies into the descendantsof criminals.”

“„Ma'am?“She glanced up at me, pushing her glasses up her nose as she did. “Hmm? Oh, I remember you. Miss Melbourne.““Melrose,“ I corrected.“Are you sure? I could've sworn you were named after someplace in Australia.“„Well, my first name is Sydney,“ I said, not sure if I should be encouraging her.”

“Do you think that's, like, REAL bacon?" I whispered to Sydney and Dimitri. "And not like squirrel or something?""Looks real to me," said Dimitri."I'd say so too", said Sydney "Though, I guarantee it's from their own pigs and not a grocery store."Dimitri laughed at whatever expression crossed my face. "I always love seeing what worries you. Strigoi? No. Questionable food? Yes.”

“You might want to do something about your neck.”I was totally lost. “My neck?”She reached into her purse and handed me a compact mirror. I opened it and surveyed my neck, still trying to figure out what she could be talking about. Then I saw it. A small, brownish purple bruise on the side of my neck.“What on earth is that?” I exclaimed.Ms. Terwilliger snorted. “Although it’s been a while for me, I believe the technical term is a hickey” She paused and arched an eyebrow. “You do know what that is, don’t you?”“Of course I know!” I lowered the mirror. “But there’s no way—I mean, we barely—that is—”She held up a hand to silence me. “You don’t have to justify your private life to me. But you might want to consider how you can actually keep it private in the next fifteen minutes.”

“That's smart. Once Sonya's able to talk, we'll need to move." He smiled. "Sydney's turning into a battle mastermind.""Hey, she's not in charge here," I teased. "She's just a soldier.""Right." He lightly brushed his fingers against my cheek. "Sorry, Captain.""General," I corrected, catching my breath at that brief touch.”

“He caught hold of my hand. “Sydney, please don’t do this,” he begged. “No matter how confident you feel, no matter how careful you think you are, things will spiral out of control.”“They already have,” I said, opening the passenger door. “And I’m going to stop fighting them. Thank you for everything, Marcus. I mean it.”“Wait, Sydney,” he called. “Just tell me one thing.”I glanced back and waited.“Where did this come from? When you called me to tell me you were coming, you said you’d realized it was the smart thing to do. What made you change your mind?”I gave him a smile that I hoped was as dazzling as one of his. “I realized I’m in love.”Marcus, startled, looked around as though he expected to see my object d’amour in the car with us. “And you just realized that? Did you just have some sort of vision?”“Didn’t need to,” I said, thinking of Wolfe’s ill-fated trip to the Orkneys. “It’s always been right in front of me.”

“Sorry, Ms. Terwilliger. I'm flattered that you think I'm such an upstanding person, but I'm already caught up in one epic battle of good versus evil. I don't need another.”