"Ditto, Ash."

Had she ever hated him more than she did now? "Good luck with your mutiny." This time when she walked away, she didn't stop. She strode to the edge of where the parking lot started before sneaking a look over her shoulder.

Jonny was gone.

She paused and released the breath she was holding. Ashley leaned against the railing separating the sidewalk from the parking area, barely able to stay on her feet despite her anger. She was shaking. She still didn't understand how he'd stopped her attack before the worst part came, and she feared he'd only ensured her next one was that much worse.

But why had he bothered either way? Why not just leave her writhing and seizing on the beach? Was his fear of Xander that great?

She drew a breath. No part of her trusted Jonny's claim that he'd call Brandon. It was a long way to San Diego, chilly, and she was alone. She gazed around. What she wanted was a nap, sweatshirt and some decent food.

The sirens of multiple police cars and an ambulance approaching the wharf drew her attention back to the vamp issue she'd just escaped. How on earth did anyone explain to normal humans what those red-eyed creatures were? She wasn't about to stick around to find out.

Ashley stood, mesmerized by the lights of the police cars, uncertain what exactly to do next. Her grip on the railing felt like all that was keeping her on her feet, and the ocean chill was beginning to sink into her skin.

"You sure you don't want a ride?" Jonny's voice came from behind her.

She tensed and pushed away from the metal railing, not about to appear weak in front of him. No part of her wanted another favor from him. Yet no part of her looked forward to trying to find her way home without her family flipping out about her absence either.

"Fine," she replied. "In exchange for me not telling Xander your people kidnapped me in the first place."

"I told you. They aren't mine."

"They're vamps. Of course they're yours," she said and turned, meeting his dark gaze again. "You're the Black God. They answer to you."

"Things are never that easy, are they?" he challenged.

"No," she replied, considering all that had come between them four years before. "They aren't. Especially when it involves the supernatural."

"Or people meddling where they shouldn't."

"Or betraying someone who trusts you."

He studied her. "Four years is along time to hold a grudge."

"Betrayal's a bitch. There's no time limit on grudges, Jonny. In a million years, I'll still hate you for what you did."




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