"Traitors!" Suzanne shrieked so loud I felt like I'd been slapped. But it was the burst of power following her scream that caught my attention.
Quaid and Brad were suddenly minor hiccups in the grand scheme. In fact, nothing that happened tonight was important anymore. My demon and I were so hyper- focused on Suzanne, the rest of the world just faded.
The disheveled cheerleader looked dirty and unstable, jacketless, her short-sleeved t-shirt filthy, jeans torn at the knees and stained with mud, as though she collapsed many times and still dragged herself up from the dirt. She must have done some hard drinking and falling since our encounter at the fire. Her blonde hair hung limp, half-free of the low pigtails she artfully began the evening with. She stood in front of the bonfire, swaying
