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us.
    “Mallory Delancey Carmichael,” I muttered, swallowing down a sudden bolt of fear. I might have been a vampire, but the rioters had inches and pounds on me, too. And a lot more hatred.
    The guy with the pointy hair glared at us, lip curled. “You got a problem, bitch?”
    The harshness of the word cut right through the fear. I gave him an Ethan Sullivan–worthy eyebrow arching.
    “What did he just say?”
    “Oh, no he didn’t,” Mallory whispered. “Go kick his ass.”
    Easy for her to say, since I wasn’t supposed to let her do anything. But it was too late to back down now; she’d set the wheels in motion.
    Resigned to my fate, I shook out my shoulders, blew out a breath to calm my nerves, and put on my best suit of vampire moxie. “Keep an eye on the main group, and let me know if they get too close for us to get to the car. We can’t take on an entire mob, not alone.”
    Mallory nodded.
    I rolled my hips into a saunter that kept their gazes on me as I approached them.
    “Um. Did you call me a bitch?”
    Haircut and Dragon looked at each other and snorted, then bumped fists like they’d scored points by using a one-syllable word.
    “I did,” Haircut said. “What are you gonna do about it?”
    I ignored the question and looked at the kids. “These guys hassling you?”
    “They like vampires,” Dragon said, as if that explained and justified their attitudes.
    Frankly, the kids didn’t look like they cared either way about vampires. They just looked scared, and eager to get the hell out of Wicker Park.
    “We just, you know, think people should get a fair shake,” said the more heavyset kid, nervously scratching his arm as he did it.
    I couldn’t imagine the moxie it had taken to get out those words in the face of two bullies, and I wanted to reach out and hug him for the bravery. But that was not what I was here for.
    “Fuck you,” said Haircut.
    “Yeah,” Dragon agreed.
    But the kid had spoken his peace; he had found his courage. He wasn’t about to back down, either.
    “You’re an asshole, you know that?” He tugged at the front of his jacket. “You think beating the shit out of me makes you brave? It doesn’t. It makes you an idiot. So beat me up if you want to, if that’s gonna make you feel better. But at the end of the day, I know who I am. And you don’t know shit.”
    Haircut might not have known shit, but he knew when he was pissed off. He reached out to grab the kid by the collar . . . but he wasn’t fast enough for me.
    In the split second before his fingers grasped fabric, I reached out and snagged his hand. He froze in shock—that someone had thought to defy him, and that I’d done it so easily.
    “Here’s the ironic thing,” I said. “I’m a vampire. And these guys”—I gestured to the kids—“are on my side. You, as it turns out, are not.”
    I gave his wrist a gentle squeeze. Not enough to break bones, but enough to let him know I was really and truly different, and I was very serious.
    “Bitch,” he muttered, but he didn’t move his gaze from his wrist. Beads of sweat had begun to dot his brow. “Do something, Joe!”
    Joe, otherwise known as Dragon, lifted up his shirt, showing off bony hip bones and a matte black handgun stuffed into the waistband of his pants.
    “Oh shit,” said the second kid, the quieter one. “We don’t want any trouble. We’re just walking home.”
    My blood ran cold. How had I missed his weapon, the telltale vibration of the gun? Not that the reason mattered now. The only thing that mattered was getting the kids out of here safe and sound.
    Bluff,
I told myself, even as my heart beat so loud I could hear it pounding in my ears.
    “Here’s how we’re going to play this,” I said, gathering up as much bravado as I could muster. “I’m going to let this guy go, and you’re going to lower your shirt over that gun again. And you guys are going to walk away.”
    Joe laughed. “You think I’m afraid of you?”
    Alpha