THE STOLEN KISSThe light coming through the tent fabric was gray and weak. My head felt like it was filled with broken glass. Every time I moved, a sharp pain shot from my neck down to my toes. The silver was gone from my blood, but it had left me feeling hollow, like a house that had been gutted by fire.

I was lying on the bed. Demetrius was sitting in a chair nearby, his head resting in his hands. He looked terrible. His clothes were wrinkled, and there were dark circles under his eyes. He ...