““He led Aubrey and me to the front of the stage. His rich voice caressed the crowd. "We hope you enjoyed our little melodrama. It was very realistic, wasn't it?" The audience shifted uncomfortably, fear plain in their faces. He smiled out at them and dropped Aubrey's hand. He unbuttoned my sleeve and pushed it back, exposing the burn scar. The cross was dark against my skin. The audience was silent, still not understanding. Jean-Claude pulled the lace away from his chest, exposing his own cross-shaped burn. There was a moment of stunned silence, then applause thundered around the room. Screams and shouts, and whistles roared around us. They thought I was a vampire, and it had all been an act. I stared at Jean-Claude's smiling face and the matching scars: his chest, my arm. Jean-Claude's hand pulled me down into a bow. As the applause finally began to fade, Jean-Claude whispered, "We need to talk, Anita. Your friend Catherine's life depends on your actions." I met his eyes and said, "I killed the things that gave me this scar." He smiled broadly, showing just a hint of fang. "What a lovely coincidence. So did I.””
