I blinked as I woke up, but my vision was too blurry. Dark shapes shifted around me. I let my eyes slide closed again.

The sound of a fire crackling and spitting filled my ears. The rich scent of warm pine drifted over me, followed by the acrid, chemical smell of smoke from burning weeds.

"How long until she wakes up?" a distant voice called. It sounded familiar, but I couldn't place it.

"There was no tranquilizer in that injection," a second voice said. This one sounded softer, female. A cold hand touched my face, pushing my hair back from my forehead. "She shouldn't be unconscious at all."

I tried to move my arms, but with the effort, a surge of pain raged through me like wildfire. Everything hurt. My right ankle throbbed with a deep, nauseating pain, and my entire left arm was completely numb, all the way from my shoulder to the tips of my fingers.

"It's okay," the second voice called again as a hand rubbed my back. I recognized it—Liz.

Suddenly, my stomach turned like something was flipping over inside me. Gravity had changed direction, working in the left-right instead of the up-down.

"What the fuck," I muttered as I rolled onto my back.

The movement was too much. A surge of acid rushed up from my stomach. My lower jaw swelled with salty sweet saliva. I twisted myself so I was on my hands and knees, and with a painful wretch, vomit spewed from my mouth.

I gagged as my body shivered and shook. My abdomen burned. A second wave of nausea pulsed through me, and I was sick again. I spat a few times to get the taste off my tongue. I wiped my mouth with the back of the hand I could still feel.

"It's okay," Liz said. She rubbed my back. "You're okay."

My head ached like my skull was a pressure vessel. The tiny gashes that covered my body stung and itched.

Finally, I rolled over to face her. One sleeve of her jacket was shredded, and her lips were turned down into a pained frown. Her blue eyes glistened like she was about to cry.

"I'm sorry." Tears pooled in my eyes. "I'm so sorry. I'm so stupid." I clenched the hand I could feel into a fist. "I never should have trusted her. I-I . . ."

I gagged like I was about to be sick again, but all that came up was a hiccup followed by a violent sob.

"She tricked you." Liz placed her hand on my shoulder and squeezed gently. "She manipulated you, Allison. It's not your fault."

"I should have known better," I said. "I shouldn't have fell for it."

"It's nearly impossible to fight back something like that—a demon in your own mind. She warped your perception of reality—made it impossible to tell what's real and what isn't. What's lies and what's the truth."

"You have to get it out of me," I begged. A sudden flare of pain radiated from the bite on my ankle. I gasped and grabbed it, terrified to untie my combat boot and see how bad it was.

"Please, you have to help me." I forced the words out between gritted teeth.

My gaze traveled over to the rest of Make Them Scream. All of them had shifted back to their human forms. Jake and Reggie stood with Veronica near the fire. The sleeve of Jake's shirt was torn, and blood dripped from his arm. A huge scratch ran across Reggie's face, from the corner of his eyebrow, across his cheek and down to the edge of his mouth. The blood glistened in the warm red light of the fire. Veronica hid behind him, holding his arm tightly and barely poking her head out.

Alex kneeled next to the fire, keeping his distance, but his eyes were focused on me. His face was drawn into a tense frown, and he clutched his ribs with one hand. The front of his shirt was torn to shreds, revealing deep gashes across his chest—claw marks. Fresh blood ran from them, painting his pale skin red. The bite wound on his neck was still visible, the skin raw and inflamed around it.

I'd done that. I'd done this to all of them.

I was a monster.

I winced as I tried to push myself to my feet. My ankle throbbed with pain as I put pressure on it.

"Slow, slow," Liz said.

"You have to do the exorcism now," I begged, my voice coming out rough and hoarse. I raked my hand through my tangled hair. "Before she comes back, please!" I could not lose control like that again. I would not let this demon take over my life and turn me into a monster.

"The Hell Flower should hold her off for a little while at least," Liz said.

"For how long?" Something tickled at the back of my mind. Like growling or cackling. I could feel her coming back. She was getting stronger. The injection wouldn't hold her off for long.

"Allison's right." Alex grimaced as he pushed himself up to his feet. "We can't wait. We don't know how long it will hold her off this time."

"Where's the knife?" I hissed. I got to my knees, raking through the pine needles and weeds that covered the ground. My fingers curled into claws as my nails dug into the dirt. Embers burned inside my mind, ready to flare back up into a fire as soon as a gust of wind breathed life into them. "Get this monster out of me!"

I could feel the poison returning to my brain, like ink soaking into a sponge. I couldn't lose control again. If I did . . . that would be the last time. Liz had already used the Hell Flower on me twice. She couldn't use it again, or the dosage would kill me.

I remembered the feeling of being tugged beyond a veil. A curtain closing, and my mind shutting off for good. If I shifted one more time, I would never come back.

Was that what dying felt like?

"Allison, calm down." Liz touched my shoulder, and at the contact a shuddering sob wracked through my body.

How could I have been so stupid? I'd trusted a manipulative monster haunting my mind rather than my own family. They were risking their lives and safety to save me, and I'd worked with a monster behind their backs and nearly killed them. I thought about Blake—when I'd first found his cold, dead body in the tour bus. I remembered running my hand over his neck, desperately trying to find a pulse I knew wasn't there.

I'd worked with a murderer.

I'd become a murderer.

"It's okay." Liz pulled me into a tight hug, and I cried onto her shoulder. The pressure of her arms around me was comforting, and I allowed myself to relax into her. "This is not your fault."

Finally, I caught my breath, and the sobs subsided. "Please, make this stop," I said between gasping breaths.

"We're going to," Liz said. "I promise."

"Guys!" Reggie shouted. "I found the knife!"

I tossed my hair out of my eyes as I turned my head up to look at him. The silver of the blade shimmered and flickered in his hand.

"Let me have it." Alex held out his hand.

Reggie nodded, jogging over and handing it to him as Liz helped me to my feet.

Alex held the knife at his side as he made his way over to where Liz and I stood. "Let me see your hands."

My entire body shook as I took a step towards him. I held my quivering hands out in front of me. He took my left in his, turning it over so I was showing my palm to the sky. Slowly, he brought the blade to my flesh. He hesitated to make the incision, pressing the metal against my skin, but not hard enough to puncture it.

I couldn't feel the coldness of the silver on my numb skin.

"Wait," I said.

He paused, looking up to meet me in the eyes. I scanned over the scratches that covered his body, and the bite that I'd taken from his neck. I thought about all the wounds and pain my wolf had inflicted on my family and my friends. I gritted my teeth.

"My hand is still numb from the poison. Use my other hand." I drew my left hand away from him and held out my right, showing my palm to the bleeding moon. "I want to feel it when we kill her."

Alex's hands shook, but finally he nodded. His touch was cold against my skin now that I could feel it.

"What if it fails?" My voice came out as a weak whisper, only loud enough for him to hear. "This is what you did with James. It didn't work then. What if—"

"It won't fail this time." He gave no reason, but there was a strength and certainty to his tone that sent a chill down my spine. He leaned in to my side, pulling me towards him and holding me there. He kissed me on the side of my head, right above my ear. "I love you," he whispered.

Then, with a single swift movement, he drew back from me and sliced the knife across my palm. It happened before I could even register what was going on, like a doctor catching a child off guard with a shot. I gasped, but I held back a scream.

Blood gushed from the wound, coating my hand in red as it steamed in the cold air. Instinctively, I moved my other hand towards it to hold it, but it was still numb, and I couldn't close my fingers around it.

My palm burned where the silver had sliced it, like poison was eating through my skin and crawling up my veins, corroding the evil within me. The insects crawling beneath my flesh writhed and crackled like ants under a microscope.

I finally let out a single pained scream.

Alex still held my arm at the wrist firmly. "Stay strong, Allison," he said.

I nodded. He let go of my wrist as my eyes turned to the fire. I remembered what the last step in the exorcism was. I didn't need to be reminded, and I didn't need any help to finish it.

My wounded ankle felt like it was going to buckle under me as I limped to the fire, but I didn't care. I didn't stop.

I clutched my hand into a fist, holding the blood back as I took one last breath, praying that Alex would be right. Because if he wasn't . . .

I didn't want to think about it.

I released my held breath, and then I opened my fist, letting my blood drip into the flames.