“I knew it,” I muttered.

Chloe gaped at both of us. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Here’s proof.” Kieran tossed her a folder with printed biological breakdown of her pills. “I need you to read that. When we get to the Drakes’, you can go online on a safe computer shielded from the League and do your own research.”

“Like the League can crack my computer security.”

“All the same.”

She ignored him and started flipping violently through the pages. I could tell the exact moment she really began to read and process the information. She went pale. When she looked up again, fear and anger and denial battled over her features. “Well, so what?” she snapped, as if either Kieran or I had spoken. “So she gave me steroids. They’ve made me stronger and faster. How is that a bad thing?”

I plucked the paper out of her hands and skimmed it until I had answer for her. “Have you grown a mustache yet?”

She blinked at me horrified. “What?”

“It says here that’s one of the side effects. So’s going bald.”

She patted her hair a little frantically. It was one of her vanities. “I’m fine.”

“You’ll get acne too,” I continued ruthlessly. I wanted my friend back. “And aggression and mood swings.” I angled my head so she’d see the bruise on my jaw. “I think we can safely say you have both of those.”

She winced. “I …”

“High blood pressure, liver damage, heart attacks, sterility, stunting your growth … do you want me to read on?”

She shook her head mutely. “But they were helping me,” she finally said in a small voice. “I feel stronger.”

“Chloe, they’re bad for you.”

“But …”

“Mustache,” I repeated.

She swallowed. “Nothing’s worth that.”

She sat back and stared blankly out of the window. I didn’t know what else to say, so I put the folder away. The trees and fields were dark, broken occasionally by the glint of moonlight or a cluster of stars through the leaves. The mountains loomed in the distance. Kieran drove for over half an hour before he turned into what looked like a field. There were tire marks in the grass but nothing else to mark it as anything but another field. Guards were discreet shadows. I caught the faint glimmer of light on a walkie-talkie. Kieran drove for another ten minutes before the tracks turned into a real lane leading to an old farmhouse.

It was impressive in its size. The logs looked like entire trees; the porch was wide and wrapped all the way around one side. The house itself was comfortably worn, like an antique. There were cedar hedges and oak trees and lamplight at the windows. Chloe let out an excited breath, briefly distracted from her own predicament.

“Wow,” she said.

I slid out of the van and just stared for a moment. This was where countless vampires had been made, where blood was sipped like wine, where humans walked a dangerous path, where hunters had no doubt died.

This was where Quinn had grown up.

I thought I saw a shadow move in one of the upstairs dormer windows but I couldn’t be sure. Even though I knew I was technically safe here, that there were treaties and friendships protecting me, I was still glad to have pockets full of stakes and Hypnos powder secured under my sleeve.

The front door swung open. I recognized Solange as she came down the porch steps, pale as a birch sapling, graceful as a white bird. The last time I’d seen her she’d been dressed for the Drake coronation. Now she wore old jeans and sunglasses. She smiled softly at Kieran.

He smiled back, taking her hand. “Thanks for letting us do this here.”

“Mom and Dad are at the caves, so we should have most of the night.” She turned to us. “Hunter, hi. And you’re Chloe?”

Chloe nodded meekly. I’d never seen her so demure.

“What’s the matter with you?” I hissed at her as we followed Kieran and Solange inside.

“She’s royalty!”

“And a vampire, remember?”

“Oh yeah.” Chloe paused. “Nope, princess trumps vampire.”

“Does not.”

“So does.”

This was the real Chloe. The glimpse was enough to make me feel hopeful and confident. Even the foyer had her ogling again. I’d never been inside a vampire’s house before either. The marble floors and crystal chandeliers were impressive, but I preferred the fire snapping in the hearth in the living room off to the right, and the worn sofas.

Somewhere, Grandpa was having a seizure.

I wouldn’t have expected it to be so comfortable and, well, normal. I knew better than to rely on stereotypes, but thought I’d see at least one red satin dressing gown and maybe a coffin or two.

All I saw were shaggy gray bears barreling at us from all directions.

“Jesus.” I stumbled back, fumbling for a stake. Kieran stopped my hand.

“Dogs,” he murmured.

My heart leaped uncomfortably. I let out a nervous giggle. “I really thought those were bears.”

“Bouviers,” Solange explained, snapping her fingers once. “Friends,” she said, and the enormous dogs sat obediently, tongues lolling. A wolfhound puppy with legs like stilts slid across the hardwood floor leading from the kitchen, nearly kneecapping me. I grinned and crouched down to pat his head.

Lucy laughed, following him at a more sedate pace, a bandage under her hair. There was a peach in her hand. “Hey, Hunter.”