"What are you doing?"

"Saving us from an accident," I growled, turning so I could meet him straight in the eye. "And you'll be lucky if I don't make you get out and walk the rest of the way. Look, you want to know why I wasn't dating loser guys when we met? Because I wasn't dating anyone . I took my hits and went home alone. Why is it so wrong for me to want to be with someone now?"

"It shouldn't matter if you're dating someone or not. You still shouldn't be acting like this!"

"You're telling me what I should and shouldn't be doing? It's my business. You have no right!" I yelled back.

"Friends have every right to tell friends when they're on a bad path," he snapped back.

"Bullshit! I've never seen you interfere with anyone else's life, no matter how badly they were screwing it up. I'm the only one you seem to want to mess with. Why do you care so much about what I do?" Seth and I had raised our voices only rarely while dating, and it had never even come close to this. It was a wonder we didn't shatter the windows.

"Because I care about you! I told you that at the party. Breaking up doesn't mean you stop caring about someone."

"Yes, but it means you have to let them go." I was so upset that I was on the verge of tears. "You can't have it both ways. You can't get rid of me and then try to pull me back…"

"I never wanted to get rid of you."

I stared at him for several heavy moments and felt those traitorous tears brimming heavier and heavier in my eyes. "Then why did you do it?"

After all that yelling, his voice sounded barely like a whisper.

"Because…I wanted to save you."

"You can't," I murmured, swallowing the tears back with great effort. "You can't keep saving me, can't keep trying to. It's too late."

"No," he said. His heart was in his eyes, and it was ripping mine apart. "Not for you. Never."

I don't know how it happened exactly, but suddenly we were kissing. His lips were just as I remembered, soft and powerful and wonderful. It wasn't a chaste kiss, nor was it a ripping-off-each-other's-clothes kiss. It was hungry and desperate, like we'd been struggling through a desert and only just now found the water we needed to survive. Best of all, it was just kissing. Just me and Seth. There was no life energy or succubus schemes involved. There was no need to back off for fear of what might happen. We could drink from each other without pulling back.

Except, well, we did.

We jerked apart, and I knew the shock on his face mirrored my own. What had we just done? Had we…had we really done it? It was a kiss. A real kiss. The kind of kiss we'd always wanted. The kiss we weren't supposed to be having.

I turned abruptly away, staring at the road ahead. I was frozen and numb…and yet, alive and filled with warmth. The world had been in that kiss. But I didn't know how to react to it, didn't know what I was supposed to do now. So, I did the most inane thing possible. I started the car.

"We should get back," I said.

"Yeah," he agreed, sounding as stunned as I felt.

I dared a look out of my peripheral vision. His eyes were fixed straight ahead, his wonderful lips tightened in a line that somehow made them look strong and vulnerable at the same time. I wanted to lean over and kiss them again, to melt as I had moments ago and forget all about reason. I wanted that perfect feeling to last forever.

Instead of dealing with what had just happened, however, I did the cowardly thing and stepped on the gas. We drove back to the city in miserable silence, neither of us mentioning the kiss but both of us thinking about it. I dropped him off at the bookstore and offered a polite thank-you for his help. He returned it equally politely-giving me one last pensive look-and then walked off toward his car. I watched him go, memorizing every line of his body and how he moved. Every emotion possible warred within me, and I had no idea which deserved to win.

I was exhausted by the time I stepped into my apartment building. The day had been mentally and physically wearying, what with would-be rapists, larceny, and the kiss heard 'round the world. Later, I'd find someone to identify the photograph for me. For now, I just wanted to sprawl on the couch and watch TV, preferably TV that had nothing to do with the magical or paranormal-or any romantic tension.

Unfortunately, the magical and paranormal was waiting for me.

What's Nanette doing here?

That was my last coherent thought before I was thrown against the far side of my living room.

I hit hard, my head cracking against the wall. I fell to the ground, my legs just barely possessing the reflexes to keep me from falling as black spots sparkled across my vision. Nanette faced me, terrible and beautiful in all her golden glory. She hadn't laid a hand on me, but she didn't need to, not with the power she wielded.

"How dare you," she hissed, eyes narrowed. "How dare you spread those kinds of rumors."

"What are you-ah!"

I was shoved back to the wall again. The distance wasn't nearly so far as before, but the force was so hard that the impact hurt just as much. More pain shot through my skull as I tried to make sense of all this.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" I cried.

Nanette stalked toward me, putting her face inches from mine. "Of course you do. You told Cedric that I was the one who'd summoned Jerome, that I was the one causing chaos in his territory."

"I didn't," I whimpered. "Not exactly. I just told him you'd met with Jerome."

She snarled and grabbed me by the front of my shirt, jerking me forward. "That was nothing. Nothing! But now others are suspicious."

"I just thought he should know and-"

"Do you know what you may have done?" she screamed. "I was a candidate for this city! You may have ruined everything."

She threw me again, this time toward the corner my TV was in. Its sharp angles bit into me when I hit, and I crumpled to the floor. I tried to pull myself up but never made it. Nanette was right there beside me. I had a full view of her black stiletto pumps just before she kicked me in the ribs. Pain blasted me, and my body instinctively tried to curl over and protect itself. But she was too fast and too powerful. Greg had had a lot of brute strength at his disposal, brute strength I'd been able to counteract a little. But against Nanette? Against a demon? Her strength was beyond that of a human, nearly beyond human comprehension.

"Do. Not. Fuck. With. Me," she said, punctuating each hit with a kick to my stomach or ribs. "Do you understand? You are nothing. Nothing ."

"I'm sorry," I said. My eyes burned, and every part of my body was screaming, begging for this to end.

The kicking stopped, and I rolled to my side, only to have a wave of power slam down on me and roll me to my stomach, pinning me down on the floor like an invisible ton of bricks. I tried to move but couldn't even budge.

"I don't care if you're Jerome's favorite or Cedric's new darling," she said. Her voice was all ice and malice. Again, she didn't touch me with her hands, but the back of my shirt suddenly ripped open. "I could destroy you right now, blast you from the face of the earth, and no one would say anything. Instead-you're lucky I'm in a good mood today."

Her "good mood" felt like a thousand whips hitting my back. Tiny lashes of power, sharp as razors and burning like flames, slammed into me. I screamed as they slashed at my skin, ripping it open. Some part of me thought that if I screamed loud enough, maybe a neighbor would hear me. It was a useless sentiment, though. She would have soundproofed this room much as the demons had at the Cellar. Besides, what could any mortal do against this?

Again and again those invisible whips tore into me. Obviously, I couldn't see what was happening, but in my mind's eye, I imagined my flesh torn to ribbons, my entire back a horrible, bloody mess. I don't know how many times those lashings repeated. They blurred together. I was fast approaching a point where the pain was so intense, so overwhelming that I almost couldn't feel it. My vision was going black, my brain barely able to hold consciousness.