Epilogue
It was a cold, moonless night in Wicker Park and Ali turned up her collar against the wind. The dark outline of two women moved across a lightened window several stories up.
Diana.
And Cami.
When Ali needed her most, dared to trust and hope, Diana had chosen the wild-haired blonde over her. She stood in the dim circle of light cast by the street lamp long after the windows in Diana's apartment went dark. The glimmer of hope that her bloodlust would ever be sated died with Ricardo. Diana had been right about that. The nightmares had gotten worse, not better.
With new betrayal hardening inside her, Ali climbed into her car. She drove until the night lights of Chicago dissolved to a flicker in her rearview mirror. She planned to drive until the entire damn city was nothing more than a bad memory, leaving Diana to fade into a faint imprint on her subcdonscious, like fingerprints on skin. With enough time and patience, she'd find a way to carve Diana out of ther nightmares, too.