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Oureyes lock as he approaches.

“When’dyou start getting sick?” he asks casually, like he’s talking to any other client who walked in for a quick service.

“Um,”Ibreathe shakily. “After… after the bridge.”

Hestudies me carefully from a few feet away.Ihone in on the grayscale eagle tattooed to his throat, dark feathers wrapping around his neck—something to distract me from my nerves.

Whenthe black and gray rose tattoo on his hand comes into view, my eyes automatically snap shut and nails dig into my palms.

Movementpauses. “I’msorry, babe,” he murmurs.

Ican barely get my head to nod with how hard my heart thuds.Igasp suddenly, desperate for air from holding my breath.

“Holdmy hand.”

Warmskin touches mine, andIfly backward, bumping into the table. “No,”Iwhimper tearfully, staring at the floor and shaking my head. “No,Ican’t.”

“Babe, we gotta do this,”Zakgently insists. “Ihave to do the limpia, and we have to work together.Youdon’t have to trust me—DreeandShannongot your back, okay?Justhold my hand and get used to me being nearby.”

Tearssneak down my face despite knowing the guys are all watching me break down.Irefuse to open my eyes; every single muscle in my body is wound up so tight thatIthinkI’mabout to snap.

Itake a deep breath and swipe the tears away.

“Reachout directly in front of you,”Zakcoaches. “Iwon’t grab your or touch you.Youcome to me.”

“I’mscared,Z,”Iwhisper fretfully.

“Steph, we’re right here,”Adrianreassures. “Nothing’sgonna happen to you.”

Theroom is tense with silence marked by sounds of traffic outside the shop.

Ican do this.IwatchedZakget better atMasstwo days ago—he’s not the thing that attacked me on the bridge.

Hejust looks exactly like it.

Fightingagainst everything within myself telling me not to,Ireach out and grab his hand.

Hisfingers are warm around mine, contrasting with the slight coolness of the rings on his fingers.

“Thereya go, babe,” he murmurs. “Yougot this.”

Asmall sob passes my lips asIforce myself to open my eyes.

Idon’t see the vampire that took my life—Isee my high school sweetheart.Theguy who still loves me.

“Okay,”Iwhisper, dashing away the tears on my face and sniffling.Isquare my shoulders. “Okay.”

Thecorner of his mouth twists.Heholds up the egg. “Topto bottom, remember?I’llgo slow, but tell me if you get scared.”

Inod.Heinches closer, and the egg touches the top of my head.

Crack.

Myeyes widen, and so doesZak’s.

Somethingslides down my head and over my cheeks.

Iexclaim and touch the egg white running down my face. “Zak!”