The first time I watched the girl I called Little Flame, she was picking flowers in a grove on the outskirts of Crescent Haven. Her dark brown hair was wild and untamed, falling in waves that were nearly as long as she was tall. She was far too close to the vampire wards and the guard—the spells and hunters tasked with keeping big bad monsters like me far away from fragile mortals and their vulnerable, ephemeral hearts.
