"You look like the Joker," I told her before her head slumped forward. Heartbeat calmed. Mara was never so calm while she was awake. I liked to think I was the only one who set her heart racing but if there was anything I'd learned about her that day, it was that she had many more issues-I didn't know if I could call them problems-that lurked beneath the surface. Haunted her enough to convince her to drink some bloody concoction that knocked her out cold.

"Get her out of here," the priest demanded before he was gone. Happy with his payout for the day, no doubt, but maybe mourning the loss of a chicken and some time spent with two teenagers he obviously didn't care for.

Mara's eyes were already flickering again. I was relieved as I swept her up into my arms. I didn't know how I'd explain things to her family, particularly Daniel, if I'd let some strange drink kill her-on her birthday, no less. Her heart thumped steadily as I brought her through the front shop, ignoring the curious glances of the boys behind the counter. It was easy to bundle her into the car, now that I didn't have to race her so that I could open the car door for her. Though it would have been more pleasant for me if she'd been conscious while I carried her over the threshold. She might glare at me, demand to be placed back on her feet, and tell me that she hated me, but I'd know she was lying.

I didn't really unsettle her; knowing that startled her more than I ever could.

"Noah?" I heard as I dropped into the driver's seat. I needed to get her back to my house, where she'd be safe while I made certain she hadn't poisoned herself.

"Mara. Welcome back to the land of the living," I smirked, glancing over toward her. She was peering out the window, expression slack as she stared at nothing in particular. "How do you feel?" I asked, though I already knew the answer. There was nothing about her I could fix, no sudden sickness brought on by the strange ingredients of that priest's concoction.

"Wonderful," she sighed, slumping back into the seat. Her pale fingers worried at the edges of her seatbelt. It looked like she was about to attempt prying it off herself. "I'm trapped," she worried faintly. "We're moving. I'm trapped."

Because I was merging onto the highway that would bring us to my home (or palace, as Mara would call it) I had less attention to spare for her than I would have liked. It was enough to know that she wasn't completely panicking, just confused. Which annoyed me because the priest had meant to erase her confusion. For five thousand dollars I'd been hoping for better results.

"We're in the car. You were out of it when I got you in here. That's why you're moving," I told her slowly, sure that she could have figured that out for herself while we zipped along the road. Mara was a smart girl, even if she'd convinced herself that she needed to spend all of that time studying with Jamie, which I detested.

Apparently she'd stopped listening to me before I'd ever started speaking. "It's like a spaceship or something," she muttered to herself, pressing her nose against the glass. I thanked myself for keeping the windows rolled up. Mara might have attempted an escape plan from the . . . spaceship.

That was when she started making noises, which I could only assume were meant to imitate what she imagined such a vessel would sound like.

"Oh, love," I sighed, reaching over to pat her knee. Mara flinched, peering at me. I wanted to laugh at the crease in her forehead. I wanted to kiss it. "I've always wondered what you would be like high on some priest's chicken blood."

She seemed faintly disgusted. "You can't hurt the chickens," she told me seriously.

"That's fine. There are none on spaceships, I'd imagine," I told her. Taking the exit that would lead us to my home, I briefly attempted to calculate the odds of something being there. Katie would inevitably be at some friend's home or at some party. My father was never a problem; even if he happened to be home I was certain this version of Mara could get past him without him giving her a second glance. Hopefully my mum was busy at the clinic.

"What are you talking about, Noah? Sometimes you're so . . . weird," Mara sighed.

"Me?" I was a bit offended by that. "You're the one who wanted to go to some strange seminar, on your birthday, no less. We could have found an easier way to help you. Unless you're remembering something?" I asked carefully, concentrating on the driveway even though I could have parked in it blindfolded. I parked the car in front of our spacious garage, planning on taking Mara around back instead of through the house. I wasn't picking up any anxious feelings from her or spikes in her heartbeat so I'd assumed no new memories had surfaced.

"No. Nothing. I don't remember anything new," she told me, wide eyes going even wider as she looked like she was holding back a sudden onslaught of tears. "That man, he didn't even like me . . . That drink was so horrible . . . And it was all for nothing!"

She slammed her hand against the center console before I took hold of it, making sure she couldn't hurt herself on anything else.

"We tried. That's alright. Let's get you inside where you can relax," I told her, plucking at a lock of her hair. It was nice to do so without facing her imminent wrath or any resistance to returning my affection, though some part of me did miss her typical demeanor.

I stepped out of the driver's seat while Mara fumbled to free herself from being 'trapped'. Of course, even inebriated, she couldn't sit still and let me open her door for her.

"It's so hot outside!" she declared, even though I usually caught her shivering. Then she bolted, leaving the car door wide open, and sprung toward the open, ornate gate that led to my backyard. "Catch me!" she cackled, running faster than I'd assumed she could when I thought her balance should have been farther off.

"Mara!" I growled, shoving the car keys in my pocket before darting after her. She could trip on something and fall. She'd hit her head and be worse, much worse off than she was at the moment when she was actually smiling and laughing to herself. If I hadn't been so worried I might have appreciated the moment. She never seemed to be freed of the demons that dogged her.

Then I saw her change direction, from where she'd been flinging herself through the grass, and charge toward the pool.

"No, Mara! No swimming!"

Splash.

I was fully prepared to need to perform some kind of water rescue, certain she wouldn't be able to swim in her state, but when I came up to the pool her head breached the surface. She bobbed there peacefully, watching me like I should have already been in there with her. It was obviously difficult for her to swim around with her clothes still on, Chucks and all.

"Come on, Mara. We'll get you something to eat. Get you dried off, silly thing." I tried to keep the amusement out of my voice when she paddled around a minute longer before slowly coming over to the shallow end of the pool. There I hauled her out and brought her over to the pool house for a few towels.

Maybe I took a few looks at how her soaked clothes clung to her skin but it was nothing I hadn't seen before and nothing Mara would remember.

"That's right. Up to the house. We'll put you up in my bathroom, get you dry." I rubbed a towel through her hair until she swatted at it like she would a pesky bee.

"I don't want to go inside," she whined. I'd never heard her whine before. It was kind of endearing. "It'll be hot. Let's swim, Noah. You suck the fun out of everything."

That hurt a bit. "It'll be fun. You need to eat something. I have . . . I have animal crackers," I offered, remembering when I'd bought them for her at the vending machine.

When her expression brightened, I nudged her into the silent home.

Unfortunately for me, she remembered herself enough to sequester herself in the bathroom to change out of her soaked clothes. I went into the kitchen to hunt down the box I knew would be in there. Animal crackers in hand, I came back up to my bedroom to wait for Mara, only to notice her already tucked into my bed.

Naked.

Of course I couldn't see anything, but I also hadn't given her anything to wear so I could assume the worst. Her towel was puddled on the floor beside the bed and in the bathroom her clothes were still in a sodden heap. Mara's eyes dragged sleepily as she tracked my progress to her. She barely lifted her head to accept a few gulps of the glass of water I held to her lips.

"Eat," I told her, shaking the box of crackers near her before I pulled out one and popped it into my mouth.

Mara let out a low keening wail, like I'd just stabbed her in the stomach.

"Are you hurt?" I demanded, wondering what'd caused the sudden spike of anxiety and sadness.

"My pet elephant," she wailed, pulling the box from my hand and cuddling it against her covered chest. She started pulling out animals, lining them in a row on the sheets while I watched with growing derision. "You killed him. No more killing," she told me. She only stopped pulling out crackers when I gently pried the box from her hands and told her there weren't any left. I didn't need hundreds of 'pets' on my bed.

"My giraffe. My hippo. My lion," she introduced me to them, yawning between a few of the introductions. "I can't name them all yet. There are too many and I love them all so much. But you killed one, so there's one less than there should be . . ."

Her head dipped toward the pillow and she clutched an alligator in one hand, kangaroo in the other. "I gotta keep watch for more poachers," she told me, deadly serious. One eye bugged with her effort to hold it open; the other was closed to a slit.

"I could watch the poachers for you. I've learned the error of my ways," I assured her, smoothing my hand over her hair and wondering what on earth was happening in that beautiful mind of hers. "You need to sleep it off," I told her, pressing my lips to her forehead. She was already gone.

I picked up one of her seals and popped it into my mouth, feeling no regret though I'd look after the rest of her pets in case she woke in a dazed state. My poor Mara was certainly going to have an interesting story to tell about her birthday.