We'd killed two of them: Sinclair had killed Trippy; Tina had killed Benny. Marc was wounded, bleeding like the proverbial stuck pig, but it looked mostly superficial. Jessica, who had been keeping a terrified Garrett from fleeing down the tunnel, drove Marc to the ER. Marc's last delirious comment was, "Will I become a vampire now? Cool!"

By then, the rest of the Fiends had fled, and Nick had regained consciousness. "Yeah, that'll show 'em," he said groggily, as he caromed from one wall to another, trying to stagger out the door. It looked like he had a broken nose, but I hoped that was the worst of it. We offered to call an ambulance, but he tagged along with Jessica, who I knew would tell him the whole story.

Sinclair carried Tina upstairs to the hot tub room, dunked her in (over her protests; we were pretty sure I'd cured the wound), and, after ten minutes, let her out.

About the water thing: for some reason, when vampires are grievously hurt, water speeds up the healing process. I had no idea why. Maybe because our undead bodies didn't have much moisture? I didn't know. So much of being a vampire was like magic to me. And not the cool kind, either.

Tina shook the wet hair out of her eyes and grinned at me. "Two down. Five to go."

"You were nuts, launching yourself at that guy."

"You and the king had your hands full," she said dryly. I handed her a robe, and she snuggled into it. Not a mark on her, thank God.

"But you were stabbed with wood," Sinclair said, looking ashen. "I saw it."

Tina looked at me, and I winked. So she shrugged and said to the king, "It must have missed my heart."

Oooooh, she's actually lying to the king of the vamps! Somebody write down the date and time. And I had to admit, it was nice to be the one keeping secrets for a change.

"But I saw - "

"Come on," I sighed. "Let's make smoothies. Or something."