Vanessa White, blue-gray-eyed and with a preference for long lacy dresses, used to be someone I could care about.
In the first few months following my inoculation with werewolf venom, while my body still felt like living every new day in a stranger's skin, Vanessa was there, lurking just beyond the fringes of my house, as in my head at that time as Dean was; he, because he was my alpha, and she, because she was telepathic, even if I didn't know it at the time.
