I was sound asleep—a total knock-out sleep, deep and dreamless, after a night spent sparring with Marguerite. I woke to her cool fingers gripping my bare shoulder. “Kat?” she whispered. “Katiana?” I pushed her away, muttering that I’d skip the bus and jog to school, but her fingers bit into my shoulder as she shook me. “It’s not school, mon chaton,” she said in her soft French accent. “It’s the hunters. They’ve found me.” My eyes snapped open. Marguerite was leaning over me, blue eyes wide, her heart-shaped face ringed with blonde curls. When I was little, I used to think she was an angel. I knew better now, but it didn’t change anything. She was still my guardian angel. I rolled out of bed and peered around the dark room. If I blinked hard enough, I could see. Cat’s-eye vision, Marguerite called it. I was a supernatural, too, though not a vampire. We had no idea what I was. At sixteen, I still didn’t have any powers other than this bit of night vision. Marguerite pushed clothing into my hand.
