I hold grudges. Mom says it's one of my many- I say few- faults. In fact, I view it as more of an advantage since my grudge-holding tendencies are exactly how I survived through the savage jungle known as tracking school. Which reminds me of my other good old friend: vengeance. Sweet, delicious vengeance. The fear of its wrath was what kept all the bullies out of my orbit, even the older ones. People think twice about messing with you when retribution comes at a price they can't afford. It provides a sort of protection really, which is why I have no plans on changing that part of me- not now and definitely nowhere in the distant future.

Besides, it's fun.

The last idiot who thought they could actually get at me and get away with it had tied all my underwear to the dorm stairs and spray-painted 'pig' in green on them. She- the idiot- woke up the next morning in her own underwear, tied to a clock five stories up with a very lewd (but nicely drawn I must say) gesture on her bare stomach. And yes, I don't discriminate against gender when it comes to payback.

My revenge against Will Cage is as simple as the rest: get him where it hurts most. Judging from last night, that place is Kiara Brooks, my next target.

Yeah, right, a voice inside me snorted.

It was revenge I wanted, I insisted. I'm not worried at all about Kiara being man-handled and manipulated by an alpha werewolf who seemed to find it inappropriate for her to talk to other men but very okay indeed for him to make out with hot girls at parties while Kiara waited patiently outside- on the cold, dark sidewalk- for him. That's not the reason why I gleamed all the information I could from Mom last night then spent another three hours on google before giving up and going to bed. Nope, not worried at all. This was all revenge.

Right.

Anyway, I did come up with a very elaborate plan last night- an elaborate place that was how I ended up following Kiara to the lake near my new- not in a technical sense- house. I was debating on how to approach her when she threw the notebook into the lake and looked like she was about to storm off in tears- but then she jumped into the lake.

At first I froze, horrified. She hadn't looked like she was just getting her notebook back either, she'd jumped in with all the mannerism of an agonized person. An agonized, suicidal person. And she wasn't coming back up.

That voice came back again, this time shrill and lacking all the previous confidence: Turn back. I don't want to see anymore lifeless bodies.

But if I turned back and ran, she'd be dead for sure. Another ghost on my conscious.

I shot through the trees with legs steadier than they felt- they felt like wobbly jelly on a plate- and threw myself into the lake after the girl I'd been planning on seducing.