“POOR Jessica.” Betsy was gloating. “She always goes for scissors.”

“I’m sorry about your shoe,” Sophie said. They were on cell phones. Sophie and Liam were in his truck. The vampire king and queen were following in an electric blue GT Mustang convertible. Odd that such a cool and controlled man had such a flashy car, but it was none of Sophie’s business. “I do think she shouldn’t have thrown the left one in the blender.”

“She’s got a temper,” Betsy agreed, “and she knew just where to stick it to me. That’s okay. I’ll steal her credit card and get it fixed at the leather shop. Worry about your shoes. Seriously.” Sophie heard the queen laugh, then the click of a disconnect.

“Well, I guess they’ll follow us up there and we’ll…you know.” Sophie paused, then sighed. “Are you not speaking to me?”

“That was the plan. I guess with all the lecturing, you didn’t notice. Then we were talking to the other vampires and I forgot I wasn’t talking to you.”

“It’s the sheep thing, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it’s the sheep thing,” he said, sounding annoyed. “Shit, what else would it be?”

“I promise, I won’t refer to you like that again, and I won’t allow anyone to—”

“It’s not that, Sophie. Sheep is just a word. It’s you. I’m sure you’re older than I am…I just don’t know how much older. And I don’t care. But you do. Right?”

“It’s not that I…care, exactly,” she said slowly. “I’m just used to things being a certain way.”

“Yeah, well, I love you.”

“What?”

“I figured, best to get that out of the way,” he explained, as if he hadn’t just said a shocking thing, as if he hadn’t changed everything. “You know, being in love with you. The thing is, I’ve always loved you. And I’ve always wanted you. And I knew you were a vampire and I knew you were pretty old—”

“Not that old,” she said, her vanity pricking her. “Not for a vampire. I’m not even a hundred yet.”

“Yeah, well, I’m just saying, I don’t care about any of that, I care about you. But this won’t work unless you don’t care, either.”

“Liam, you drop this bombshell on me—”

“Yep,” he said cheerfully.

“—all in the last forty-eight hours…do you realize that before Tuesday, we’d never spent any time together that wasn’t pet-related? You have to admit, this is all very fast.”

“Yep. I have to admit that.”

“Well, you have to give me some time.” She folded her arms across her chest, feeling stupid and happy and annoyed and afraid.

“How much time?”

“More than two days,” she snapped. “It shouldn’t be a problem, since you’ve been waiting your entire life to be with me, right? So you can give me another forty-eight hours?”

“I’m glad you hit me over the head with that right away,” he retorted. “I wouldn’t want you to wait.”

“I’m just saying.” If she could have blushed, she would have. That had sounded much worse out loud than she had meant. She was just…surprised. She hadn’t a clue he had such deep feelings for her. All this time, and he never told her.

“You never told me.”

“Well, I was waiting for exactly the right time.”

“A vampire serial killer throwing us together? That was the right time?”

“Well, yeah.”

“And there’s a lot more to it than love, you know.” She said this with triumph, as if she were thinking of reasons to make him be wrong about loving her.

“Sophie, what the hell are you talking about?”

“There’s the issue of how I need blood to survive.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Liam: I drink blood from living donors in order to function. I have to do it a lot.”

“So? I have to eat regular food to survive.”

“It’s not the same thing.”

“But it doesn’t make you a bad person, right?

“No,” she said slowly. “Feeding…biting and taking blood…it’s like any weapon, I think. You’ve got a shotgun at home, yes? Well, is it a good shotgun or a bad shotgun?”

“Guess that depends,” he replied. “If I use it to blow the head off a serial vampire scumbag killer, it’s a good one. If I used it to, I dunno, hurt a kid or whatever, it’s a bad one.”

“Well, I think feeding is much the same. I could have hurt you. I could have killed you.”

“I think you did kill me,” he said cheerfully.

She didn’t smile. “I’m being serious, Liam.”

“Yeah, I can tell by the way you’re sucking all the enjoyment out of this moment.”

“And I’ll outlive you,” she continued doggedly, “unless we take steps.”

“I know.”

“I don’t think you do.”

“There it is again.”

“What?”

“That I’m a vampire and a lot older, and so I’m smarter and just in general better than you.”

“That’s ridiculous!” she cried, freshly stung.

“Ha!”

“Ha yourself.”

They didn’t say another word until they got to the town where the last girl, Shawna, had lived and died. Then Liam said, “I’d prefer to ride with Betsy.”

“You took the words right out of my head,” she snapped, her idioms suffering, as always, when she was angry. She swung her door open and jumped out of the truck. “I’ll send her over.”

“Good.”

“Good!” She stomped over to the king and queen, who looked to be in the middle of their own lover’s spat.

“You don’t suck like ordinary people suck, by the way. You suck like Academy Award–sucking. If there was an Oscar handed out for Most Sucking, you’d have it locked.”

“You’ve got to come up with something new. Anything new.”

“Excuse me, Majesties,” she interrupted, her nervousness in their presence evaporating. She could be angry or she could be nervous, but apparently she couldn’t be both. “Liam would like the queen to ride with him.”

“Ride with…oh, right. The B and B thing.” Shawna’s mother had told them the killer was staying at a local bed-and-breakfast. There were two in town; they didn’t know which one she had meant. So they had decided to split up. Originally each couple would make a team. Not any longer. “That’s fine with me. Later, Sinclair.” She walked over to Liam, who had gotten out and was standing beside the truck. “Hey, can I drive?”

He wordlessly handed her the keys, then walked around to the passenger’s side. Sophie waited for a moment. For an apology? Whose?

“Dr. Trudeau, we need to be going,” Sinclair told her.

“Sir,” she replied miserably, and fell into step behind him.