Jade West was a wildfire. She burned too hot, too strong for him to get close to without burning himself. But Spencer Reid welcomed the pain, and before he knew it he was inhaling the smoke, letting her suffocate him with her madness. She was a princess in black hair dye, and he, her knight in an FBI vest.

This wasn't her. This was not the Jade West that he'd known and grown to love. This was someone else, a devil wearing her porcelain face as a mask, her skin as clothes, nothing more than a disguise of pathetic deceit. He refused to be the victim of such calamity.