"I can't believe I finally found you!" Rosalie exclaimed in a restrained voice, plainly struggling to stifle her excitement. "Follow me, come inside," She urged, motioning for us to enter a side door of the bar.

We all stood in a moment of shocked silence, glancing from each other to Rosalie as if wondering whether she was real or not.

"It's okay," she insisted, dropping her hands to her sides. "My dad owns the place."

In a quiet rush, we slipped out of the freezing rain and into the warm, stale air of the bar. Through the entrance, we ascended a tall wooden staircase; shouts and loud music blared through the wall, masking our creaky footsteps on the uneven stairs. I filed in behind Rosalie, uncomfortably conscious that Jason was right on my tail.

At that moment, my plan slipped out of my mind entirely, overpowered by a newfound hope.

Through a doorway, we reached a long, unlit room. Immediately, my eyes flitted around, scanning every inch. In the dull gleam of moonlight that fell through the edges of the curtained windows, I couldn't see anyone—only dusty furniture. My heart rate slowed as if my disappointment thickened my blood.

"There's no need to stay quiet—not until after the bar closes," Rosalie said, smiling. "We're safe here. It's so amazing to see you all."

I stepped forward and placed a hand on her arm.

Before I could even ask, she said, "Kyle and Shaun are hiding out somewhere more secluded." She spoke so quietly that the others could hardly have heard—and anyway, they were preoccupied with exploring the room.

Then she took a deep breath and averted her eyes. "It's...I don't know how to tell you..."

My throat went dry as I stared at her; there was nothing else I could do—desperate for answers but terrified to hear them.

"Kyle needed to be somewhere quiet," she continued slowly. "He was too loud."

"Too loud...?"

She exhaled, speaking on the whisper of her breath, "His screams. He's not doing so well, Tess. It's...I don't know what it is."

My heart plunged in my chest. I studied the grain of the floorboards, taking a minute to muster a response.

Finally, I looked up and blurted, "Take me to him."

"What about the others?"

"They can stay here for now."

Jason cleared his throat, and I whirled around as he emerged from the shadows behind us. "Making plans, are we?" He peered down at me with crossed arms, keeping his face inscrutable.

"Yes," I said sharply, unsure how much he had overheard, "we're leaving." Still gripping Rosalie's arm, I began to tow her toward the door.

Jason followed, looming behind us. "Are you forgetting about the eight other people who were supposed to meet up tonight?"

I halted. "No, I—"

"Where's the rest of your group, anyway—Jade and Jessie, right? With him on your mind, no one else matters, is that it?"

"That's not—"

He chuckled. "They could all be dead, and you probably wouldn't even give a damn."

Truthfully, I didn't remember making the decision to attack Jason. It wasn't like a blind rage—it felt like I was a marionette puppet and someone else was pulling the strings, making my nerves fire with hot bursts of resentment. I saw only brief flashes: my hands outstretched, Jason's face pale under a smear of crimson, then dark silhouettes rushing in from the corner of my vision.

"Stop, Tess!" Kole cried distantly.

As I made to lunge again, something intercepted me, clenching the back of my jacket and wrenching me backward. "Calm down," Dorian commanded, his voice a low growl just behind my head.

He tried to wrestle my arms behind my back, but I twisted and writhed out of his grip. My eyes were set only on Jason, slumped against the wall and clutching his bloody face. The words burst from my lips of their own volition, "Let go!"

But a band of steel tightened around my torso. Dorian panted at my ear, and I realized he was constricting me in a straightjacket-like embrace, pinning my arms against myself. I thrashed wildly, breaking free several times, only to be restrained again.

"Let go of me right now, or I swear—"

Dorian ignored my pleas; instead, he forced me against the wall, pressing tightly into me so that I couldn't move an inch. He held me like that, his fists latched around my wrists like manacles, as I struggled uselessly for a solid minute.

"I'm tired of being so weak," I seethed, burning tears spilling from my eyes. "I'm done. I want this to be over." I went entirely slack, and Dorian caught me by the arms as he sensed I'd stopped resisting. "I want to stop fighting—forever."

Dorian let me slide gently to the floor, then released me and stepped away.

Now I faced the others, who were all staring with varying degrees of shock. I'm sure I looked stunned, too, gasping desperately for air as I grasped what I'd done. I eyed my shaking hands, noticing the wet traces of scarlet under my fingernails.

Jason, however, was smiling wickedly, looking all too satisfied. He wiped the blood from his face with the back of his hand, revealing the row of four stark scratches I'd made on his cheek.

"Did you feel that, Tess? Your control leave you, like someone–something else was taking the reigns in your pretty little head?" He breathed raggedly, leaning his head back against the wall and staring at me with what I would describe as condescending pity. I had to fight a powerful urge to lunge for his exposed neck.

"I could see it in your eyes," Jason went on, his words punctuated by sharp inhalations. "It's exactly what Van said would happen. There's nothing we can do to stop it. It's begun."