Aden’s adventure continues in the next Intertwined novel UNRAVELLED

For once, sixteen-year-old Aden Stone has

everything he’s ever wanted:

A home.

Friends.

The girl of his dreams.

Too bad he’s going to die …

Because a war is brewing between the creatures of the dark, and Aden is somehow at the centre of it all. But he isn’t about to lie down and accept his destiny without a fight. Not when his new friends have his back, not when his dream girl has risked her own future to be with him, and not when he has a reason to live for the first time in his life …

About the Author

GENA SHOWALTER is a New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author whose teen novels have been featured on MTV and in Seventeen magazine and have been praised as “unputdownable.” Growing up, she always had her nose buried in a book. When it came time to buckle down and get a job, she knew writing was it for her. Gena lives in Oklahoma with her family and three slobbery English bulldogs. Become her friend on My Space, or a fan on Facebook and visit her at GenaShowalter.com/young-adult.

INTERTWINED

GENA SHOWALTER

www.miraink.co.uk

ONE

A CEMETERY. No. No, no, no! How had he ended up here?

Clearly, wearing his iPod while exploring a new town had been a mistake. Especially since Crossroads, Oklahoma, perhaps garden gnome capital of the world and definitely hell on earth, was so small it was practically nonexistent.

If only he’d left the Nano at the D and M Ranch, a halfway house for “wayward” teens where he now lived. But he hadn’t. He’d wanted peace, just a little peace. And now he would pay the price.

“This sucks,” he muttered, pulling the buds from his ears and shoving the shiny green distraction into his back-pack. He was sixteen years old, but sometimes he felt like he’d been around forever, and every one of those days had been worse than the one before. Sadly, today would be no exception.

Immediately the very people he’d been trying to drown out with so-loud-your-ears-bleed Life of Agony clamored for his attention.

Finally! Julian said from inside his head. I’ve been screaming for you to turn around for, like, ever.

“Well, you should have screamed louder. Starting a war with the undead was not what I wanted to do today.” As he spoke, Haden Stone—known as Aden because, as a kid, he apparently hadn’t been able to pronounce his own name—backtracked, removing his foot from the graveyard’s property line. But it was too late. In the distance, in front of a tomb-stone, the ground was already shaking, cracking.

Don’t blame me, Julian replied. Elijah should have predicted this.

Hey, a second voice said. It, too, came from inside Aden’s head. Don’t blame me, either. Most times, I only know when someone’s gonna die.

Sighing, Aden dropped his backpack, bent down and palmed the daggers he kept anchored in his boots. If he were ever caught with them, he’d be tossed back into juvie, where fights erupted as regularly as lunch was served and making a trustworthy friend was as impossible as escape. Deep down, though, he’d known carrying them was worth the risk. It was always worth the risk.

Fine. This is my fault, Julian grumbled. Not like I can help myself, though.

That was true. The dead had only to sense him to awaken. Which, like now, usually involved Aden accidentally placing his foot on their land. Some sensed him faster than others, but they all eventually rose.

“Don’t worry about it. We’ve been in worse situations.” More than leaving the iPod at home, he mused, he should have been paying attention to the world around him. He’d studied a map of the town, after all, and had known what areas to avoid. But as the music had pounded, he’d lost track of his surroundings. He’d been momentarily liberated, seemingly alone.

The tombstone began to rattle.

Julian sighed, the sound an echo of Aden’s. I know we’ve endured worse. But I caused those worse situations, too.

Fabulous. A pity party. This third, frustrated voice belonged to a woman—who also took up prime real estate inside his head. Aden was only surprised his other “guest”—as he sometimes thought of the souls trapped inside him—didn’t pipe up, as well. Peace and quiet were not something any of them understood. Can we save the festivities for later, boys, and kill the zombie before it emerges all the way, gains its bearings and stomps our collective butt?

“Yes, Eve,” Aden, Julian and Elijah said in unison. That was the way of it. He and the other three boys would bicker and Eve would step in, a formidable mother-figure without a finger to point, but a formidable mother-figure all the same.

If only that mothering were enough to fix the situation this time.

“I just need everyone to zip it,” he said. “Okay? Please.”

There was grumbling. And that was as quiet as things were going to get.

He forced himself to focus. Several yards away, the head-stone teetered back and forth before tumbling to the ground and shattering. Rain had fallen this morning, and droplets sprayed in every direction. Handfuls of dirt soon joined them, flying through the air as a disgustingly gray hand poked its way free.

Golden sunlight poured from the sky, highlighting the oozing skin, the rotting muscle … even the worms slithering around the enlarged knuckles.

A fresh one. Great. Aden’s stomach rolled. He might puke when this was over. Or during.

We’re about to smoke that fool! Is it bad that I’m hot right now?

And there was Caleb, voice number four. If he’d had a body of his own, Caleb would have been the guy taking pictures of girls in their locker room while hiding in the shadows.

As Aden watched, waiting for the right moment to strike, a second oozing hand joined the first, both straining to heave the decayed body the rest of the way from the ground. He scanned the area. He stood on a cemented walkway, high on a hill, lush trees helping to form a path and block him from prying eyes. Thankfully, the long span of grass and headstones looked deserted. Beyond was a road where several cars meandered past, their engines humming softly. Even if the drivers were rubberneckers and failed to keep their attention on traffic, they wouldn’t be able to see what happened below.

You can do this, he told himself. You can. You’ve done it before. Besides, girls like scars. He hoped. He had plenty to show off.

“Now or never.” Determined, he strode forward. He would have run, but he wasn’t in a hurry to ring the starting bell. Besides, these encounters always ended the same way, no matter the sequence of events: Aden bruised and broken, sick from the infection the corpses’ tainted saliva caused. He shuddered, already imagining yellowed teeth snapping and biting at him.

Usually the battle lasted only a few minutes. But if anyone decided to visit a loved one during that time … Whatever happened, he couldn’t be seen. People would assume he was a grave robber or a body snatcher. He’d be hauled into whatever detention center this hole-in-the-wall town offered. He’d be forever labeled a no-good delinquent, exactly as he’d been labeled in every other town he’d ever lived in.

Would have been nice if the sky darkened and rain poured again, shielding him, but Aden knew he didn’t have that kind of luck. Never had.

“Yep. I should’ve paid attention to where I was going.” For him, walking past a cemetery was the epitome of stupid. A single step on the property, like today, and something dead would awaken, hungry for human flesh.

All he’d wanted was a private spot to relax. Well, as private as a guy with four people living in his head could get.

Speaking of heads, one peeked through the now-gaping hole, swinging left, right. One eye was rolled back, the white branched with red, while the other was gone, revealing the muscle underneath. Large patches of hair were missing. Its cheeks were sunken, its nose hanging by a few threads.

Bile burned Aden’s stomach, threatening to double him over. His fingers tightened around the hilts of his blades, and he finally quickened his step. Almost … there … That haggard face sniffed the air, obviously liking what it smelled. Toxic black saliva began dripping from its mouth and its struggle for freedom increased. Shoulders appeared. A torso quickly followed.

A jacket and shirt bagged around it, torn and dirty. A male, then. That made what he had to do easier. Sometimes.

One knee shot onto the grass, two.

Closer … closer still … Again, he increased his pace.

Aden reached it just as it stood to full height, a little over six feet, which put them at eye level. His heart slammed in his chest, a frantic drum. Breath blistered his lungs, scalded his throat. More than a year had passed since he’d had to do this, and the last time had been the worst of all. He’d needed eighteen stitches in his side, had worn a cast on his leg for a month, spent a week in detox, and had made an involuntary blood donation to every corpse at Rose Hill Burial Park.

Not this time, he told himself.

A hungry growl burst from the creature’s ruined lips.

“Lookie what I have.” Aden held up the blade, and the silver glinted in the light. “Pretty, isn’t it? How ‘bout a closer look, hmm?” Arm surprisingly steady, he reached back and struck, going for the neck. To kill a corpse—permanently—the head had to be removed. But just before contact, the corpse gained its bearings, as Eve had feared it would, and ducked. Survival instincts were something that never died, apparently. Aden’s knife whizzed through empty air, his momentum spinning him around.

A bony fist pushed him face-first to the ground, and he soon found himself eating dirt. A hard weight immediately pounced on him, crushing his lungs. Fingers encircled his wrists and squeezed, and he lost his hold on the blades. Thankfully—or not—those fingers were disgustingly wet and couldn’t maintain a strong enough grip to keep him still.

No, it was the teeth in his neck that subdued him, chomping toward his artery, wet tongue sucking. For one pained second, he was too dazed to move, burning up, dying, awakening, burning some more. Then he snapped into focus—win, had to win—and used his elbow to crack the fiend’s ribs.

It didn’t budge.

Of course, his companions just had to comment.

Wow. Are you out of practice or what? Caleb said.

Laid low by a toe tag, Julian scoffed. You should be embarrassed.

Do you want to be dinner? Elijah added.

“Guys,” he gritted out, his struggles increasing. He managed to roll to his back. “Please. I’m fighting here.”

I wouldn’t exactly call this fighting, Caleb replied. More like being spanked like a girl.

Hey! I take exception to that.

Sorry, Eve.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got this.”

Guess we’ll see about that, Elijah said grimly.

Aden tried to squeeze the creature’s neck but it kept moving, kept pulling from his grip. “Be still,” he commanded as he punched it in the cheek with so much force that what was left of its brains rattled—but that didn’t weaken it. Actually, the action might have strengthened it. Aden had to anchor both of his hands against its jaw to prevent it from swooping in for another bite.

“You, more than anyone, know this isn’t the way I’m going to die.” The words were broken with the force of his panting breaths.

About six months ago, Elijah had predicted his death. They didn’t know when it would happen, only that it would. And it wouldn’t be in a cemetery and his killer wouldn’t be a corpse. No, he would die on a deserted street, a knife in his heart, the tip cutting the organ every time it beat, until life slipped from him completely.

The dire prediction had come the same day he was told he was being sent to the D and M Ranch just as soon as there was an opening. Maybe that should have deterred him from moving here. But …

At the same time, he’d begun having visions of a dark-haired girl. Of talking and laughing with her … of kissing her. Never before had Elijah foretold anything other than a death, so Aden had been shocked to know—or rather, hope—the girl would one day enter his life. Shocked but excited. He wanted to meet her for real. Was desperate to meet her, actually. Even if that meant coming to the city of his death.

A death that would happen all too soon, he knew. In the vision, he hadn’t looked much older than he was now. He’d had time to mourn his own passing, though, and had even had time to accept his fate. Sometimes, like now, part of him even looked forward to it. That didn’t mean he’d roll over and take whatever the undead wanted to dish.

Something stung his cheek and he blinked into focus. Unable to get its yellowed teeth within range, the corpse was now clawing at him, nails cutting deep. That’s what he got for allowing another distraction.

You’ve got this? Really? Well, prove it, Julian said, the challenge probably meant to strengthen him.

Roaring, Aden reached for one of his fallen blades. Just as the corpse broke free from his hold, he slashed forward. The blade slid through bone … and caught. Useless.

There was no time to panic. Hungry and oblivious to pain, his opponent made another play for his throat.

Aden threw another punch. There was a growl, another baring of teeth, and a stream of that thick, black saliva seeped from the corpse’s mouth onto his cheek, causing his skin to sizzle. He struggled, gagging at the fetid smell.

When a long, wet tongue emerged, inching toward Aden’s face, he once again grabbed the corpse by the jaw, fending it off while reaching for his other knife. Mere seconds after his fingers curled around the hilt, he began sawing at its neck.

Crack.

Finally, the head detached from the body and fell to the ground with a thud. The bones and tattered clothing, however, collapsed on top of him. Grimacing, he swiped them off and scrambled to a clean patch of grass.

“There. Proven.” He, too, crumpled.

That’s our boy, Caleb said proudly.

Yes, but now isn’t the time for rest, Eve added, and she was right.

“I know.” He had to clean up the mess or someone would stumble upon the desecrated remains. News stations would swarm the place like flies, begging the entire town to help locate the evil, twisted person responsible. Plus, others were going to rise whether he stayed here or not. He needed to be ready for them. But as he lay there, squinting up at the sky, hurting, the sun glared down at him, draining what little energy he had left.

By the end of the day, the saliva’s poison would have worked through his system and he’d be hunched over a toilet, his cornflakes nothing but a fond memory. He’d sweat profusely from fever, shake uncontrollably and pray for death. Here, now, though, he had a moment’s respite. It was what he’d been searching for all day.

Up and at ‘em, sweetheart, Eve urged.

“I will, I promise. In a minute.” Aden didn’t know his real mother, his parents having signed him over to the state at the age of three, so he liked—sometimes—that Eve tried to fill the role. Actually, he loved her for it. He did. He loved all four of the souls, in fact. Even Julian, the corpse whisperer. But every other kid in the world could walk away from their families for a little “me” time. They could do things other sixteen-year-old boys were doing. Things like … well, things. They could date and attend school and play sports. Have fun.

Not Aden. Never Aden.

Whatever he did, wherever he went, he had an audience. An audience that liked to comment and critique and offer suggestions. Next time do this. Next time do that. Idiot, you shouldn’t have done that.

They meant well, he knew they did, but Aden hadn’t even kissed a girl yet. And no, the beautiful brunette from Elijah’s visions didn’t count. No matter how real those visions felt. But God, when was she going to arrive? Would she?

Only yesterday, he’d had another vision of her. They had been standing in a forest, the moon high and golden. She’d thrown her arms around him and hugged him tight, her warm breath stroking his neck.

“I’ll protect you,” she’d said. “I’ll always protect you.”

From what? he’d wondered ever since. Not corpses, obviously.

He drew in a breath, then grimaced. Hello, stinky. The scent of rot seemed glued to the inside of his nose. Probably was. He’d have to scrub himself with a Brillo pad from head to toe.

He released the dagger he still held and wiped his hands on his jeans, leaving streaks of that poisonous goo. “What a life, huh?”

If you want to get technical, this really isn’t our fault, Julian said, obviously no longer willing to shoulder the blame. You’re the one who absorbed us into that fat skull of yours.

Aden ground his teeth. It seemed like he received a similar reminder a thousand times a day. “I’ve told you. I didn’t absorb you.”

You did something, ‘cause we sure didn’t get bodies of our own. Nooo. We got stuck with yours. And no control button!

“FYI, I was born with you already swimming in my mind.” He thought so, at least. They’d always been with him. “It’s not like I could stop what happened. Whatever happened. Even you don’t know.”

Just once he’d like a flash of total peace. No voices in his head, no dead rising to eat him—or any of the other unnatural things he had to deal with on a daily basis.

Things like Julian waking the dead and Elijah predicting the death of anyone who passed him. Things like Eve whisking him to the past, into a younger version of himself. One wrong move, one wrong word, and he would change his future. Not always for the better. Things like Caleb forcing him to possess someone else’s body with only a touch.

Just one of those abilities would have set him apart. But all four? He was in a different stratosphere. Something no one, especially the boys at the ranch, let him forget.

But despite the fact that he didn’t get along with them, he wasn’t ready to be sent away so soon.

Dan Reeves, the guy who ran the D and M, wasn’t too bad a guy. He was a former pro-football player who had given up the game because of a back injury, but he hadn’t given up the disciplined, by-the-book way of life. Aden liked Dan, even though Dan didn’t understand what it was like to have voices chattering inside his head and vying for attention he couldn’t hope to give. Even though Dan thought Aden needed to spend his time reading, interacting with others or pondering his future rather than “rocking out and roaming.” If he only knew.

Uh, Aden? Julian said, bringing him back to the present.

“What?” he snapped. His good mood must have died with the corpse. He was tired, sore, and knew things were only going to get worse.

Just another day in the life of Aden Stone, he thought with a bitter laugh.

Hate to be the one to tell you this, but … there’s more.

“What?” Even as he spoke, he heard the shattering of another tombstone. Then another.

Others were indeed rising.

He pried his eyelids apart. For a moment, only a moment, he didn’t breathe. Just pretended he was an ordinary guy whose only concern was what to buy his girlfriend for her birthday.

Where was the brunette? he wondered. When was her birthday?

Aden, honey, Eve said. You still with us?

“Still here.” For him, concentrating was the equivalent of counting to infinity, and Eve knew that. “I hate this. I’m at the edge, and I’m either going to jump myself or kick someone in the—”

Language, Aden, Eve said with a tsk.

He sighed. “Kick someone in the butt and force them to fall,” he finished properly.

I’d leave you if I could, but I’m stuck, Julian said, solemn.

“I know.” His stomach protested and his neck wounds burned from strain as he pulled himself to a crouch. The pain didn’t slow him; it, too, angered him and that anger gave him strength. He saw four sets of hands breaking through the dirt, uprooting grass and the colorful bouquets left by loved ones.

He swiped up one of his daggers. The other was still embedded in the first corpse’s neck, and he had to jimmy it free. He might have been hesitant to battle in the beginning, but he was mad enough now to sprint in swinging this time.

Besides, there was only one way to handle four at a time … Eyes narrowing, he dashed to the corpse closest to him. The top of its head had just emerged. It was completely bald, no skin remaining. A living skeleton, the kind of thing nightmares were made of.

You can do it, Eve cheered.

Arm up … back … waiting … waiting … Finally, its shoulders came into sight, giving Aden the canvas he needed to work his magic. He struck, in one fluid motion rendering the dead … dead. Again.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. Not that it could hear him. Made him feel better to say it, though.

One down, Julian said.

Aden was already running to the next grave. He didn’t slow when he reached it, just raised his arm and slashed.

“I’m sorry,” he said again as this newest corpse fell, head one way, body the other, its bones separating on impact.

That’s the way, Elijah praised.

Instinct was finally kicking in. His hands were soaked, sweat pouring from his face and chest, and as he hurried to the third, battered grave, pride blended with his guilt and sadness. Feral red eyes watched him.

We should be paid for this stuff, Caleb said, every word dripping with excitement. Clearly, he was hot. Again.

A growl sounded behind Aden a split second before a skeletal weight landed on his back and sharp teeth sank into his shoulder, ripping through shirt and skin and hitting muscle. Stupid, stupid! He’d missed one.

He groaned, propelled to the ground. Another bite, more poison. Later, more pain.

He reached over his shoulder, grabbed the fiend by the clavicle and jerked. Rather than tug the carcass off him, his hand wrenched away with a piece of lace and bone. A woman this time. Don’t think about that. He’d hesitate, and that hesitation would cost him.

Those sharp teeth latched onto his ear, drawing blood.

He pressed his lips together to cut off his shout. God, that hurt. Reaching back once more, he managed to grip its neck this time. But just before he jerked, the corpse fell to the ground, motionless, and all four voices inside his head began screaming as if in pain, then fading … fading … silent.

Frowning in confusion, Aden quickly shimmied out from under the lifeless body and jackknifed to his feet. His neck, shoulder and ear throbbed and burned as he whirled around and looked down.

The corpse didn’t move. Its head was still attached, but it didn’t freaking move.

He spun in a circle, gaze roving, cataloging, searching. The other corpse, the one he’d been racing for, had fallen, too, despite the fact that it, too, still possessed its head, and now remained immobile. Even the light in its eyes had died.

O-kay. What the hell had just happened?

Oddly, none of his companions had a smart-ass comment.

“Guys?” he said.

Still no response.

“Why were you—” His words trailed off. In the distance, he caught a glimpse of a young girl and forgot about everything else. She was dressed in a white T-shirt streaked with dirt, faded jeans and tennis shoes, strolling just in front of the cemetery. She was tall and thin with straight brown hair anchored in a ponytail, tanned skin and a pretty—very pretty—face. She had earbuds in her ears and seemed to be singing.

All that dark hair … was she … could she be the girl from Elijah’s visions?

Aden stood in place, covered in mud and grime, confused, excited, and trying not to panic. If she spotted him and the carnage surrounding him, she’d shriek. People would come gunning for him. They’d track him, wherever he went. They always tracked him. As he’d feared, he’d be sent away and the kinda sorta freedom he now had would be a thing of the past.

Don’t look, don’t look, please don’t look. The prayer was his own, the souls still strangely quiet. And yet, part of him did want her to look, to see him, to be as intrigued by him as he was by her. If she was the girl he’d seen in those visions … finally …

She was almost past him. Would soon disappear around the corner. And then, as if she sensed his secret desire, she threw a glance over her shoulder. Aden tensed, catching a glimpse of big hazel eyes and pink lips she couldn’t stop chewing.

She scanned the area.

A second later, their gazes met. There was a blast of sound as the world suddenly zoomed in on them—and then nothing. There were no movements. Not their heartbeats, not even their lungs filling with air. There was no yesterday or tomorrow, only here and now.

They were the only two people who existed.

This was peace, Aden thought with shock. True peace. Calm and quiet, no voices in his head, pressing him down, pulling him under, vying for his attention.

Then, everything exploded. There was another blast of sound, as if the world’s focus expanded this time. Cars started back up, birds began chirping and wind whistled through the trees. A sharp gust of it slammed into him and tossed him backward. He landed with a thump, chin jarring his sternum.

That same wind must have hit her, because she stumbled to her butt with a yelp.

There was a twinge of sickness in his stomach, and as he stood his limbs hung loose and heavy. A need to run to her filled him—followed quickly by a need to run from her.

She scrambled upright. After another silent glance, she turned away and rushed down the pass, soon disappearing from view.

The moment Aden lost sight of her, everything returned to normal.

Caleb growled, What the hell?

Pain. Darkness, Eve said, voice trembling. Horrible.

They’d been hurt? How could souls with no bodies feel pain? “What do you mean?” he asked them, though he suspected part of the answer. The girl. Somehow, some way. That odd stillness when their eyes first met … that strange gust of wind …

She’d approached and the dead had fallen. The voices inside his head had faded. She’d looked at him and a peace he’d only dreamed about had encompassed him. She’d left and boom, everything had kicked back to terrible life.

He had to experience that peace again. Could she really be responsible? Was she the one he’d been waiting for?

Fearing the corpses would rise again, he hurriedly removed the heads of the remaining two. But rather than clean the mess, hiding the evidence of what had happened, he found himself gathering his backpack and chasing after her. There was only one way to find out whether she’d done what he thought she’d done. Only one way to find out who exactly she was.

Dude, tell us what happened before I start screaming, Julian said.

“I don’t know what happened. Not exactly.” Truth. He was determined to find out, though. “Are you okay?”

Multiple shouts of No! rang out.

Go back to the house. I have a bad feeling about this, Elijah said, sounding more afraid than Aden had ever heard him.

Aden slowed. Elijah’d had “bad feelings” before, and while they hadn’t been actual predictions, Aden had always heeded them. But what if this was his one and only chance to meet the brunette from those visions?

“I’ll be careful. I swear,” he said.

Aden spotted the girl a block from the cemetery. Once again a strong wind jolted him, sickness seeped into his stomach, and then the world around him became all that he’d ever dreamed. Silent, his thoughts his own.

Dear Lord. She was responsible.

His palms began to sweat. She rounded a corner, heading into a busy intersection. He stuffed his hands into his backpack and dug out his wet wipes, quickening his step and cleaning his face as best he could. He withdrew a clean shirt and stepped into the shadows, then changed, never taking his gaze from the girl.

Would she run screaming if he approached her? Bones had been piled around him, after all.

He waited for his companions to toss out answers, but all remained quiet. It was odd, not having someone tell him what to do, how to do it, or how badly things would end. Odd and strangely agonizing, when he’d thought for years it would be freakishly cool.

For the first time in his life, he was truly on his own. If he messed this up, he’d have no one but himself to blame.

He squared his shoulders and prepared to approach the girl.

TWO

MARY ANN GRAY SPOTTED her friend and neighbor, Penny Parks, and raced toward the outdoor café. “I’m here, I’m here,” she said, pulling the plugs from her ears, Evanescence fading. She stuffed her iPod in her purse, gave her Sidekick a quick check—only one e-mail from her dad asking what she wanted for dinner. Replying could wait.

Penny tsked under her tongue as she handed Mary Ann a capped mocha. “Just in time. You missed the raging power outage. I was inside and all the lights flicked off. No one could get cell reception, and I heard a lady say that all the cars on the road died.”

“There was an outage that caused cars to die?” Weird. Then again, it had been a day for weirdness. Like that boy she’d seen in the cemetery on her way here, who’d somehow caused her to fall—without touching her!

“Are you listening to me?” Penny asked. “Your face totally blanked. Anyway, like I was saying. The outage happened about fifteen minutes ago.”

The exact time she’d been at the cemetery, iPod momentarily silent, unexpected wind blowing. Huh.

“So what took you so long?” Penny asked. “I had to order on my own, and you know that’s not good for my codependency.”

They plopped into the chairs Penny had been saving for them, the sun shining brightly on their table. Mary Ann inhaled deeply, the scents of coffee, whipped cream and vanilla flooding her. God, she loved Holy Grounds. People might approach the stand frowning, but they always emerged with a grin.

As if to prove her point, an older couple walked away from the register, smiling at each other over the rims of their cups. Mary Ann had to look away. Once, her parents had been like that, happy just to be with each other. Then her mother had died.

“Drink, drink,” Penny said. “And while you’re savoring, tell me what held you up.”

Mouth watering, she sipped at her grande white chocolate mocha. Ah, de-freaking-licious. “Like I said, I’m sorry I’m late. I really am. But sadly, my tardiness isn’t the worst of it.”

“Oh, no.” Expression pinched, Penny fell back in her chair. “What’s going on? Don’t break it to me gently. Just rip the Band-Aid.”

“Okay. Here goes.” Deep breath. “I’m not actually done for the day. This is only a thirty-minute break. I have to return to work.” She cringed, waiting for the shouted—

“What!”

And there it was. A small infraction, really, but Penny would see it as a grave offense. She always did. She was a high-maintenance friend who expected their time together to be uninterrupted. Mary Ann didn’t mind. Really. She actually admired the trait. Penny knew what she wanted from the people in her life and expected it to be given to her. And it usually was. Without complaint. Today, however, couldn’t be helped.

“The Watering Pot is providing the floral arrangements for the Tolbert-Floyd wedding tomorrow and all of the employees have to work overtime.”

“Ugh.” Penny shook her head in disappointment. Or was that disapproval? “When are you going to quit your loser job at that flower shop? It’s Saturday, and you’re young. You should be shopping with me as planned rather than slaving over thorns and potting soil.”

Mary Ann studied her friend over the rim of her cup. Penny was a year older than her, with platinum hair, bright blue eyes and pale freckled skin. She liked to pair lacy baby-doll dresses with flip-flops no matter the weather. She was carefree, experienced, had no thoughts for the future, dated who she wanted, when she wanted, and skipped school as often as she attended.

Mary Ann, on the other hand, would vomit blood if she even considered breaking a rule.

She knew why she was the way she was, but that just made her determination to be the “good girl” worse. She and her dad only had each other, and she hated to disappoint him. Which made her friendship with Penny all the stranger, since her dad (silently) objected. But she and Penny had been neighbors for years, had even attended the same preschool when they’d lived miles away from each other. Despite their differences, they had never stopped hanging out. Never would.

Penny was addicting. You didn’t walk away from her without wishing you were still with her. Something about her smile, maybe. When she flashed it, you felt as if all the stars had aligned and nothing bad could happen to you. Well, girls felt that way. Boys caught a glimpse of it and had to wipe away their drool.

“Could you please, please, please call in sick?” Penny begged. “A little dose of Mary isn’t going to be enough.”

When she flashed that smile this time, Mary Ann steeled herself against it. “You know I’m saving for college. I have to work.” Only on the weekends, though. That’s all her dad would allow. Weekdays were devoted to homework.

Penny traced a perfectly manicured fingertip over the rim of her espresso. “Your dad should pay for your education. He can afford it.”

“But that wouldn’t teach me responsibility or the value of a hard-earned dollar.”

“God, you’re quoting him now.” A shudder rocked Penny’s petite frame as she grimaced. “Way to ruin my mood.”

A laugh escaped Mary Ann. “If he paid my way, he’d be screwing with my fifteen-year plan. And no one screws with my fifteen-year plan and lives to tell about it. Not even my dad.”

“Oh, yeah. The fifteen-year plan I can’t get you to rethink no matter what temptation I throw your way.” Penny anchored a strand of hair behind her ear, revealing three silver hoops. “Graduate high school, two years. Bachelors, four. Masters and Ph.D., seven. Intern, one. Open your own practice, one. I don’t know what I’m doing tonight, much less in fifteen years.”

“I can guess what you’ll be doing tonight. Or rather, who. Grant Harrison.” The pair had been on and off for six months. Currently they were off, but that didn’t stop them from hooking up. “Besides, there’s nothing wrong with a little preparation.”

“Little. Ha! I suspect you have your life mapped out to the second. You probably even know what underwear you’ll be wearing in three years, five hours, two minutes and eight seconds.”

“A black lace thong,” Mary Ann responded without hesitation.

That gave Penny a moment of pause. Then she chuckled. “Almost had me, but the thong gave you away. You’re cotton briefs, baby, all the way.”

And all that coverage was a bad thing? “Honestly, I don’t have everything planned. Not even I’m that anal.”

“You said anal.” Penny snickered. “Look, I’ve known you most of your life, and asking people about their feelings wasn’t always what Mary Contrary wanted to do when she grew up. She wanted to dance a ballet to a packed house, kiss whichever celebrity she was crushing on and tattoo her entire body with flowers so she’d look like a garden. You didn’t decide to become a shrink until after your mom—” Realizing she’d taken a wrong turn at Foot In Mouth Lane, she finished with, “You just didn’t!”

Slowly Mary Ann’s smile faded. Deep down, she wasn’t sure she could refute her friend’s claim. She had been a rambunctious girl at one time, giving her parents fits, talking and laughing too loudly, always desperate to be the center of attention and throwing tantrums when she didn’t get her way. Then her mom had died in a car accident. A car accident Mary Ann had been part of, as well. She’d spent three weeks recovering in the hospital. Her body had healed, yes, but not her soul.

Upon her release, the Gray household had fallen into a spiral of sadness, Mary Ann and her father whirling further and further away from the loving if combative family they’d once been. Over time, that sadness had bonded her and her dad. He’d become her best friend, making him proud her biggest goal.

When she’d told him she thought she might like to be a clinical psychologist like him, he’d smiled as if he’d just won the lottery. He’d hugged her. Spun her around, and laughed for the first time in months. No way she could’ve chosen a different path after that. No matter how much she hated studying. Still. Now she couldn’t imagine herself being anything other than a doctor of the mind. And for Penny to give her grief about it, well …

“Let’s talk about something else,” she said stiffly.

“Great. I’ve pissed you off, haven’t I?”

“No.” Yes. Maybe. Usually, they stayed away from the topic of her mother. Though several years had passed, the memories were sometimes too fresh, too raw. “I’d just prefer it if you looked out for your future, not mine.”

Penny sighed loud and long. “I shouldn’t have gone there, and I’m sorry. It’s just, all work and no play makes Mary a dull girl, and I want my sparkly girl back.” When Mary Ann offered no reply, Penny reached out and squeezed her hand. “Come on, Mary Contrary. I can still see the hurt. Forgive me. Please. We’ve only got, what? Fifteen minutes left, and I don’t want to spend it fighting with you. I love you more than anything or anyone and you know I’d cut off my leg and kick my own ass if I could. Maybe even cut out my tongue and nail it to your bedroom wall. And then I’d—”

“Okay, okay.” She laughed, the silly images her friend’s words evoked soothing her. “You’re forgiven.”

“Thank God. But seriously, girl. You really made me work for that one, and you know how I hate to work for anything.” Grinning that irresistible grin of hers, Penny dug a pack of ultrathins and a lighter from her beaded purse. She lit up, inhaling deeply. Soon a thick haze of smoke surrounded them and Penny was reclining in her chair, legs extended. “So what do you want to talk about? Girls we hate? Boys we love?”

Mary Ann cradled her mocha against her chest, leaning back as far as she could go. “Why don’t we discuss the fact that smoking kills?”

“No need. I’m indestructible.”

“You wish,” she said with a grin. But her amusement faded as a short but forceful gust of wind nailed her in the chest. She rubbed the spot just above her heart and gazed around.

That stray wind hadn’t seemed to affect anyone else.

Only one other time had she ever felt such a strong kick. Her stomach began to churn.

“If you won’t put the cigarette out for you, then put it out for me,” she said. “I don’t want to return to work smelling like an ashtray.”

“I have a feeling your roses will love you, anyway,” her friend said dryly and took another drag. “Take pity on me. I’ve been stressed and I need this.” As she spoke, she flicked the ashes on the pavement, attention wandering.

“What have you been stres—”

“Oh, oh, oh. Boy. Three o’clock. He just sat down at the table across from ours. Dark hair, movie-star face and muscles. Dear God, the muscles. Best part, he’s totally scoping you. Best part for you, that is. Why isn’t he scoping me, too?”

Mary Ann’s heart immediately soared into hyperspeed. First that strange wind, and then a dark-haired boy nearby? Please be a coincidence. Leaning forward, shielding her mouth with her hand, she whispered, “Is he dirty?”

“You mean, perverted? I don’t know, but I’m willing to find out. He’s hawt!”

“No. I mean dirty, as in mud and some kind of black gunk all over him? Like motor oil? Are his clothes ripped?”

“His face is dirty, yes. Well, kind of. It’s smeared, like he tried to clean up. But his shirt is clean and oh, so perfect. God, his hair is dyed black but the roots are blond. I wonder if he has a tattoo? That’s sexy. How old do you think he is? Eighteen? He’s tall enough to be legal. And oh, my God, he just looked at me! I think I’m going to faint.”

Besides the shirt, the description fit. Maybe he’d changed.

An emotion she couldn’t name skittered through her. That he might be here …

She’d meant to stop by her mother’s grave before meeting Penny. It was along the way, after all. But she’d taken one look at the boy, experienced that strange gust of wind, and had only wanted to escape.

“I saw him earlier,” she said. “I think … do you think he followed me?”

Eyes widening, Penny shifted in her seat and unabashedly peered over at him. “Probably. A stalker, do you think? God, that’s even sexier!”

“Don’t stare!” she gasped, slapping her friend’s arm.

Unhurried and unrepentant, Penny faced her. “Well, I don’t care if he’s the Tri City Butcher and keeps human hearts in his locker. The more I look at him, the more I like him. Very—” she shivered “—bad-boy chic. I might offer him my heart.”

Bad boy. Yes, that fit, too. Mary Ann didn’t have to turn to remind herself of what he looked like. His image was burned into her mind. As Penny had said, he had black hair with inch-long blond roots. What she hadn’t mentioned was that his face was as perfect as the Grecian statues she’d seen in her world history book, even with the grime. For the briefest of moments, when a beam of sunlight had hit him, Mary Ann would have sworn his eyes were striped with green, brown, blue and gold. But then the ray had disappeared beyond a fluff of clouds and the colors had melted into each other, leaving only an intense black.

The color didn’t matter, though. Those eyes were feral, wild, and she’d felt that undeniable shock of wind—bizarre wind that had ended as quickly as it had begun. For a moment, she’d felt hooked to a generator, the eye contact jolting her, unnerving her. Even hurting her. That’s when the nausea had begun.

Why had she experienced all that again just now, albeit in a muted way? Before she’d seen him even? Why had she felt any of it at all? This made no sense. Who was he?

“Let’s pick him up,” Penny said, excited.

“Let’s not,” she replied. “I have a boyfriend.”

“No, you have a horny jock who sticks around because he’s desperate to get in your pants even though you keep saying no. Which, by the way, is a guarantee he’s knocking it with someone else every time your back is turned.”

There was something in her tone … Mary Ann pushed the boy from the graveyard out of her mind—best that way—and frowned over at her friend. “Wait. Have you heard something?”

Heavy pause. Another drag. Then a nervous laugh. “No. No, of course not.” Penny waved a dismissive hand through the air. “And anyway, I don’t want to talk about Tucker. I want to talk about the fact that you and this Mystery Guy should totally hook up. You like him, I can tell. Your cheeks are flushed and your hands are shaking.”

“I’m probably coming down with a cold.” Was it bad that she hoped her words were true? When a girl couldn’t get a boy out of her mind, she, well, couldn’t get him out of her mind. Schoolwork was forgotten. Goals were abandoned. The brain became mush. She’d seen it happen, time and time again. She wouldn’t let it happen to her.

That’s one of the reasons she dated Tucker. He was safe. Cute and popular, but safe. He was busy with football and didn’t mind how often she skipped out on him to work or study.

“Don’t be a prude. Give me permission, and I’ll call him over here. I’ll have his digits in five flat, and you guys can go out. I won’t tell Tucker, I swear.”

“No. No, no, no!” She shook her head for emphasis, ponytail slapping her cheeks. “One, I would never cheat on Tucker.”

Penny rolled her eyes. “So break up with him.”

“And two,” she said, ignoring her friend’s remark, “I don’t have time to juggle another boy. Even as a friend. Grades have never been more important. SATs are coming up.”

“You have straight As. And you’ll nail the SATs, guaranteed.”

“I want to keep the As, and the only way I’ll nail the SATs is if I stay the course. You know that stuff doesn’t come easily for me.”

“Fine. But when you die from stress and disappointment, you’ll think back to this moment and wish to God you’d taken me up on my offer.” Penny splayed her arms and peered heavenward. “Who would have thought I’d be the smart one in this relationship?”

Now Mary Ann was the one to roll her eyes. “If you’re the smart one, what does that make me?”

“The dull, pretty one.” Penny grinned, but for once the expression lacked its usual dazzle. “You can’t help it, I suppose. What with the psychobabble your dad is always feeding you. There’s good in everyone, blah, blah, blah. I’m telling you, Mar, some people are as worthless as an empty bottle of beer and Tucker is one … of … them.” The last was said on an excited gust of breath. “Swweet! I didn’t have to do anything and he’s coming over! Yep, you heard me right. Your stalker is coming over here!”

Mary Ann turned before she could stop herself. It was the boy from the graveyard. She barely hid her grimace as another of those jolts swept through her, burning her like acid.

At least the world didn’t seem to implode on itself this time, leaving her with a strange sense of nothingness.

Steadier now, she studied him. His jeans were ripped but he had indeed changed his shirt. This one was clean and free of holes. His face was just as perfect as she remembered, too flawless to be real. He had thick black lashes that perfectly framed his eyes. Perfectly sculpted cheekbones that surrounded a perfectly sloped nose. Perfectly shaped lips, now dipped into a frown.

This close, she realized he was taller than she’d assumed. If they stood next to each other, he would tower over her. His features were tight with determination.

One step, two, he hesitantly approached. When he reached them, he stopped and dropped his backpack at his feet.

Mary Ann tensed and her mouth dried. What would she do if he asked her out? Tucker was her first and only boyfriend. The first and only guy to ask her out, really, so she’d never had to turn someone down before. Not that this boy wanted to ask her out. Please don’t ask me out.

Aren’t you an egotistical one? Most boys want your study notes, not your body. Oh, yeah.

“This day couldn’t get any better,” Penny said, clapping.

He waved shyly. “Hi,” he said. Then he frowned and rubbed at his chest, just as she had done a bit ago. His gaze narrowed, and he glanced all around them.

“Hi,” Mary Ann said, dropping her focus to the iron tabletop. Her tongue suddenly felt huge and glued to the roof of her mouth. Worse, her brain seemed to have taken a vacation and she couldn’t think of anything else to say.

Awkward silence bloomed between them.

Penny released a heavy sigh. “Fine. Allow me. Her name’s Mary Ann Gray, and she’s a junior at Crossroads High School. I’ll give you her phone number if you ask nicely.”

“Penny.” Mary Ann slapped her friend’s shoulder.

Penny ignored her. “What’s your name? And where do you go to school?” she asked the boy. “Wild Horse?” Disgust dripped from her tone.

“I’m Aden. Aden Stone. I just moved here. And I don’t go to public school.” Pause. “Yet. But what’s wrong with Wild Horse?”

His voice was deep and oddly shiver-inducing. She forced herself to focus on his words, though, rather than his tone. He’d said he didn’t go to public school. Did that mean he attended private school? Or that he was homeschooled?

“Hello, it’s only our biggest rival and home of the worst humans on earth.” Penny kicked out a chair. “But since you don’t go there, would you like to join us, Aden Stone?”

“Oh, I—I—if you wouldn’t mind?” The question was directed at Mary Ann.

Before she could reply—not that she’d known what to say—Penny preened and replied, “Of course she wouldn’t mind. She was just telling me she hoped you’d join us. Sit, sit. Tell us about yourself.”

Slowly Aden inched into the chair, as though he feared having it shoved out from under him. The sun stroked him lovingly, practically worshipping his beautiful face. And for a moment, only a moment, Mary Ann saw those different hues in his eyes again. Green, blue, gold and brown. Amazing. But as quickly as they appeared, they vanished, leaving that blazing onyx.

The scent of pine and newborn baby drifted from him. Why a baby? From a wet wipe, maybe? Anyway, dirty as he was, she would have expected a more unpleasant odor. Instead, the sweet smell reminded her of something … of someone. Who, she couldn’t place. She just knew she had a sudden urge to hug him.

Hug him?

From attraction to curiosity to distaste to affection? Seriously, what was wrong with her? And what would Tucker say? She’d never flirted with other boys—not that she was flirting now—so she had no idea how Tucker would react if she did. He might be a piranha on the football field, but he’d always been nice to her.

“I was wondering … I saw you outside the cemetery,” Aden said to Mary Ann. “Do you, uh … did you … notice anything that disturbed you?”

So hesitant, he was. It was kind of cute. Sweet, too. The urge to hug him increased. But she merely blinked over at him, unsure she’d heard him correctly. Had he felt that bizarre wind, too? “Like what?”

“Never mind.” Slowly he grinned, and it was a grin that not only rivaled Penny’s, but surpassed it.

Guess he hadn’t, she thought. “Were you visiting a loved one there?”

“Uh, no. I, uh, work there. Just so you know, news stations will probably be blasting stories about the desecration of several graves soon. I was … cleaning things up.”

Was her mother’s grave okay? It had better be!

“How wonderfully morbid.” Penny blew a puff of smoke in his direction. “Are you ever tempted to do a little digging and steal a little bling?”

To his credit, he didn’t cough or flinch. “Never,” he said, turning to shield his face as a pudgy man walked by their table.

Hiding? Maybe that was his boss and he wasn’t supposed to be on break.

She studied him, wondering what he—Her gaze caught on the bruise on his neck and she gasped. “Oh, ouch! What happened to you?” There were two puncture wounds, both a mix of blue and black. Teeth marks, she realized then, and blushed. He could have gotten them from a girl. Probably had. “Never mind. That’s personal. You don’t have to answer that.”

He didn’t. He covered the wounds with his hand, his own cheeks heating.

“Great, two prudes at one table.” Penny released a long- suffering sigh. “So what do you do for fun, Aden? Where do you go to school, if not public? And do you have a girlfriend? I’m assuming the answer is yes, since you’ve been nibbled on, but I’m hoping you’ll tell us it’s about to end.”

His attention returned to Mary Ann. “I’m more curious about Mary Ann. Why don’t we talk about her?”

Way to dodge the questions, she thought.

“Yes, Mary Ann.” Penny rested her elbows on the table, expression mockingly rapt. “Tell us about your exciting fifteen-year plan.”

Mary Ann knew what her friend was doing: trying to force her to voice her supposed dullness so that she’d realize she needed excitement. How many times had Mary Ann told her that admitting a problem was the first step to fixing it? Penny must have been listening because, for once, she was acting as the shrink. “Another word out of you and I’m going to take you up on your earlier offer. Your tongue will look nice above my bed.”

Palms up and out, Penny projected her innocence. “Just trying to lighten the mood, sugar.” Grinning, she dropped her cigarette to the concrete and smashed it with her foot. “Maybe the only way to do that is to leave. You two can get to know each other.”

“No,” Mary Ann rushed out when her friend stood. “Stay.”

“Nah. I’ll just cause more trouble.”

Aden watched the exchange, head zinging back and forth between them, expression bemused.

“You won’t.” Mary Ann gripped Penny’s wrist and tugged her back into the chair. “You’ll—” A thought occurred to her and she gasped. “Oh, no. What time is it?” She set her mocha on the tabletop, pulled her cell from her pocket and glanced at the clock. Just as she’d feared. “I’ve got to go.” If she didn’t hurry, she wouldn’t make it back to the Watering Pot in time.

“I’ll walk you wherever you’re going. I don’t mind.” Aden jumped up so quickly, his chair skidded behind him and knocked into a man who’d been walking past. “Sorry,” he muttered.

“I’m in a mad rush, so I … I think I should go on my own. I’m sorry.” Best this way, she told herself. Her blood was still burning in her veins, her stomach still clenching. She leaned forward and kissed Penny on the cheek before standing herself. “It was nice meeting you, though, Aden.” Kind of.

“You, too.” He sounded despondent.

She backed up a step, stopped. Backed up another step, a dark corner of her mind shouting for her to stay, despite everything.

Aden moved toward her, saying, “Can I call you? I would love to call you.”

“I—” She opened her mouth to say yes. That dark corner wanted to see him again and figure out why she felt both pain and affection in his presence. The rest of her, the rational side of her nature, listed all the reasons to stay away from him: School. Grades. Tucker. Fifteen-year plan. Yet still she had to fight to work, “No, I’m sorry,” out of her throat.

Whirling, she headed back to the Watering Pot, wondering if she’d just made a huge mistake. A mistake she would regret for the rest of her life, just as Penny had predicted.

THREE

ADEN WATCHED as Mary Ann walked away from him.

“Here’s her number. If you still want to call her, that is, considering her rudeness,” the girl named Penny said, sliding a piece of paper toward Aden. “The second number is mine. In case you decide you want someone a little more available.” Then she, too, stood and walked away from him.

“Thank you,” he called. He grinned as he stuffed the paper into his pocket. The grin didn’t last long, however. He didn’t know a lot about girls, but he knew that he’d made Mary Ann Gray uncomfortable. Knew she’d wanted nothing to do with him.

Had she sensed how different he was? He hoped not, because that would make convincing her to spend time with him impossible. And he had to spend more time with her. Had to talk to her, to get to know her. She really was responsible for his newfound sense of peace.

It was strange, too. The more time he’d spent in her presence, the more he’d had to fight the urge to run away from her. Which made absolutely no sense. Up close, she was even prettier than he’d realized, cheeks bright, eyes a mix of green and brown. She was smart, well able to hold her own against her friend. Any other guy would have wanted to date her, yet when they’d begun talking, he’d first experienced a wave of affection, as though he should be mussing her hair and teasing her about boyfriends. (As if he needed more proof that he was weird.) And second, that stupid desire to flee for his life.

He could think of no reason good enough to run from her. The moment he’d spotted her at the café, the voices had screamed again—he had hated that—then quieted again, and he had loved that.

How did she do it? Did she even know she did it? She hadn’t seemed aware, her pretty face innocently unconcerned.

He hadn’t decided yet if she was the girl in his visions or not. She certainly looked like her, but the thought of kissing her … he grimaced. It just felt wrong. So very wrong. Maybe, hopefully, after he got to know her, that would change.

He kicked into gear, heading home, careful to stay first on the sidewalk above the graveyard, and then the main roads. Twice he tripped over trash, stumbling forward, and every wound on his body throbbed.

Ugh, we’re gonna hurt tonight, Caleb said.

Yep. Beyond the ache of the existing bruises, in a few hours, the poison would begin to break him down, chew him up and spit him out.

You’re really starting to annoy me, Ad, Elijah suddenly said. I do not like the airstream or whatever it is that tosses us into that black hole.

“Tell me about it. The black hole, I mean.”

Dark, empty, silent. And just for the record, I’d like to know how you’re doing it.

A girl. I caught a glimpse of her, Eve said.

Julian sputtered. A girl? A dumb girl is sending us away? How?

“Is she the one I’ve been dreaming about, Elijah?” Duh. He should have asked before.

Don’t know. I didn’t see her.

Oh.

Well, I did see her, and I’m positive I know her. There’s something familiar about her. Eve paused, clearly thinking things over. She pushed out a frustrated breath. I just can’t place what, exactly, is familiar.

The others never saw the images Elijah projected inside his head. Only Aden did. So Eve wouldn’t have seen her in the visions. “We’ve only been here a few weeks and haven’t left the ranch until today. We haven’t met anyone but Dan and the other dregs.” Dregs, his name for the other “wayward” teens at the D and M.

I swear. I know her. I do. Somehow. And she could have lived in any of the towns we’ve been sent to.

“You’re righ—” Realizing that he could be caught talking to himself, Aden searched his surroundings, making sure no one was within hearing distance. He would have thought his replies, rather than speak them, but there was such a constant stream of noise in his head that the souls had trouble differentiating his words from everything else.

He was outside, the sun finally beginning to fall, the ranch on the horizon. It was a sprawling structure of dark red wood surrounded by windmills, an oil rig and a looming wrought-iron fence. Cows and horses grazed all around. Crickets chirped. A dog barked. It wasn’t the kind of place he’d ever imagined living, and he was as far from a cowboy as a person could get, but he found that he liked the open spaces better than the crowded buildings in the city.

In the back was a barn, as well as a bunkhouse where he and the other dregs slept. Usually they could be found outside with their tutor, Mr. Sicamore, or baling hay, mowing and scooping manure into a wheelbarrow for fertilizer. The chores were meant to help them “learn the importance of hard work and responsibility.” Only taught them to hate work, if you asked Aden.

Thankfully today was everyone’s day off. As he strode past the gate, no one was out and about.

“You’re right that she could have lived in a different town at the same time as me, though the odds of that are pretty bad. Still, I promise you, I never saw her, really saw her, until today,” Aden said, picking up their conversation where they’d left off. If he and Mary Ann had crossed paths before, he would have experienced that sweet silence. That was not something he would have forgotten.

Caleb laughed, though there was a sharp edge to his amusement. You keep your head down and your eyes averted everywhere you go. You could have met your mother and you wouldn’t have known it.

True. “But I’ve been shuffled from one mental institution to another, and even juvie, where no girls were allowed. This is the first time I’ve really been out in public, no matter what town I’ve been in. Where would I have met her?”

Eve’s breathy sigh drifted through his head. I don’t know.

I still think you should stay away from her, Elijah said solemnly.

“Why?” Had the psychic already divined Mary Ann’s death and now hoped to save him from the heartache of her loss? Aden fought a rush of dread. When Elijah told him when and how someone was going to die, that someone died, exactly as Elijah had said. No exceptions. “Why?” he rasped again.

Just … because.

“Why!” he insisted, the question harsher than he’d intended. He needed a good reason or he’d be hunting her down at the first opportunity. Anything for another taste of that silence.

Well, I for one don’t like how powerless I feel when you’re around her, Julian said.

“Elijah?” Aden insisted.

I just don’t like her, the psychic grumbled. All right? Happy now?

No impending death, then. Thank God.

Aden tripped as one of Dan’s dogs, Sophia, a black-and- white Border collie, tangled around his ankles, barking for attention. He petted her head and she continued to dance around him. As he stood there, an idea took root in his mind. He didn’t speak it, not yet. But he did say, “Well, I do like her, and I want—need—to spend more time with her.”

Then you’re going to have to find a way to set us free, Elijah said. Any more time in that black hole and I’ll go insane.

“How?” They’d already tried a thousand different ways. Exorcism, spells, prayer. Nothing had worked. And with his own death looming, he was becoming desperate. Not just for the peace it would give him these last years—months? weeks?—of his life, but because he didn’t want his only friends dying with him. He wanted them to have lives of their own. The lives they’d always craved.

Let’s say we did find a way out. Eve paused. We’d then need bodies, living bodies, or I fear we’ll be as insubstantial as ghosts.

True. But bodies aren’t something we can order online, Julian said.

Aden will find a way, Caleb replied, confident.

Impossible, Aden wanted to say, but didn’t. No reason to destroy their hope. When he reached the main house, he muttered, “We’ll finish this conversation later,” and meshed his lips together. All the lights were dimmed, no shuffling feet or banging pots echoing. Still. No telling who lurked where.

He knocked on the front door. Waited a while. Knocked again. Waited even longer. No one appeared. His shoulders sagged in disappointment. He really wanted to talk to Dan and put his as yet unspoken idea in motion.

Sighing, he made the trek to the bunkhouse. Sophia barked and finally raced off. Inside, the warm but fresh breeze died, air thickening with dust. He’d shower, change, maybe grab a bite to eat, then head back to the house. If Dan wasn’t back by then, he’d have to wait until next week to talk to him. He hadn’t forgotten that the poison even now swimming through his veins was going to start pummeling him in the next few hours, at which point he’d be no good to anyone.

This was just the calm before the storm.

There was a murmur of voices in the background, and Aden tried to tiptoe to his room. But a floorboard creaked, and a second later, a familiar voice was calling, “Hey, schizo. C’mere.”

He paused, staring at the fat wooden beams stretching across the ceiling and wondering if he should just sneak out. He and Ozzie had never gotten along. Maybe because every word out of the guy’s mouth was an insult. But still. Any more fights, verbal or otherwise, and he’d be kicked out. He’d already been warned.

“Yo, schizo. Don’t make me come after you.”

A round of laughter.

So Ozzie’s sheep were there, as well.

Leave. I can’t deal with another upset today, Julian said.

Walk away and they’ll think you’re weak. The pronouncement came from Elijah, therefore had a greater chance of being true. Then you’ll never have a moment’s peace.

Wrong. Go to the woods and you can have peace right now, Caleb said. Besides, you can’t fight them in your condition.

Just get it over with. Eve’s determination made her voice harsh. Otherwise you’ll worry about being ambushed all night. And sick as you’ll be, you don’t need that on your mind.

Jaw clenched, he stalked to his room, tossed down his backpack and then crossed the hall into Ozzie’s room.

You always listen to Eve, Julian whined.

Because he’s smart, Eve said.

Because he’s a teenager and you’re a female, Caleb muttered.

You’ve never complained about my being female before.

When Aden appeared in the doorway, a grinning Ozzie looked him up and down. The grin soon became a sneer. “What have you been doing? Making out with the vacuum since no one’s desperate enough to actually touch you? Or maybe you and one of your invisible friends hooked up. Was it a guy or a girl this time?”

The rest of the dregs snickered.

“It was a girl,” Aden said. “She’d just left you, so she was desperate enough.”

“Burned,” the other dregs laughed.

Ozzie stilled. His eyes narrowed.

Ozzie had been here a little over a year, which was months longer than everyone else. From what Aden had gathered, he’d gotten busted for drugs and shoplifting on more than one occasion and his parents had finally washed their hands of him.

“I’m outta here,” Aden said.

“Stay right there.” Ozzie held up a half-smoked joint. His blond hair was spiked, as if he’d tangled his hands in it one too many times. “You’re gonna take a drag. You need help with your crazy.”

More laughter.

“No, thanks.” He didn’t need “drug use” added to his already-lengthy record.

“I wasn’t asking you,” Ozzie snapped. “Smoke. Now.”

“No. Thanks.” Aden studied the bedroom. It was a mirror image of his own. Plain white walls, a bunk bed with matching brown comforters on both the top and the bottom, a dresser and a desk. Nothing extra. No wall hangings or framed photos. To help them forget the past and concentrate on the future, Dan liked to say about the lack of frills. Aden suspected it was because dregs came and went so quickly.

“Come on, m-man. Just d-do it.” Shannon, black and the biggest of them all, lounged on the pillows they’d strewn across the floor. His green eyes were red-rimmed, one of them swollen. From a recent fight? Probably. Usually, he would stutter, the dregs would make fun of him, and then he’d lash out. Why he still chose to hang with them, Aden didn’t know. “Y-you could forget what a nut j-job you are.”

Seth, Terry and Brian nodded in agreement. The three of them could have passed for brothers. Each had dark hair, dark eyes and similar boyish faces. Their individual styles set them apart, though. Seth colored thick red streaks in his hair and had a snake tattooed on the inside of one wrist. Terry wore his hair long and shaggy and dressed in baggy clothes. Brian was all smooth polish.

Saying no again was hard. Especially when it would help dull the pain he knew was coming. But he did it. If he got high, he’d forget more than who he was; he would forget about talking to Dan. And he had to talk to Dan. If Dan agreed to Aden’s plan, Aden would get to see a lot more of Mary Ann.

With that kind of incentive, he’d give up anything, everything.

“Whatever, man.” Ozzie’s cheeks hollowed as he inhaled, and smoke wafted around his face. “I knew you were pathetic.”

Do not react. “Where’s Ryder?” The sixth member of their crew.

“Dan found a bag in his room—empty, of course, or he’d be out—and took him into town for drug testing,” Seth said. “They’ll be gone for hours. Hence the party.”

“Parties are like cupcakes,” Terry said with a grin.

Uh, what?

“No, parties are like peeing in a cup,” Brian said and everyone burst into loud guffaws as if the funniest joke ever had just been dropped.

Had he been this stupid the few times he’d gotten high? Aden wondered.

A knock suddenly sounded at the front door, followed by a creak of hinges.

“We’re back,” Ryder called nervously. He must have known what they were doing.

“Gone for hours, huh?” Aden said.

Ozzie cursed and scrambled to hide the joint, tossing it inside a metal container. He slammed the lid over it to contain the smoke.

Seth grabbed a can of air freshener and sprayed in a circle. Terry tossed the pillows back onto the bed. Brian scrambled around, looking for a way out. And Shannon remained in place, resting his head in his upraised hands. Then Ryder was striding inside the room, red hair standing on end, lips peeled back in a scowl.

Dan was right behind him. He stopped in the doorway beside Aden, thumbs hooked in his belt loop, baseball cap low on his head. Disapproval clouded his deeply tanned features as he sniffed the air.

“I’m trying to save your lives, boys. You know that, don’t you?”

A few of the dregs gazed down at their feet in shame. Ozzie just smirked. No one spoke.

“Finish cleaning up and then I want you to do something useful. In fact, each of you will pick a book from the box I gave you last week and read at least five chapters. You’ll tell me what you read tomorrow morning at breakfast.”

Groans erupted.

“None of that, now.” Dan studied each of their faces, one by one. When he reached Aden, he blinked in surprise, as if he hadn’t realized Aden was there. “Let’s take a walk,” he said. He didn’t wait for Aden’s reply, but pounded out of the bunkhouse, the door slamming shut behind him.

“Tell him where my stash is,” Ozzie growled at him, “and I’ll cut your throat.”

“Try,” Aden said, and pivoted on his heel.

Did you have to antagonize him? Eve asked, clearly frustrated.

“Yes.” He didn’t react well to threats.

Outside, clean air once again enveloped him, and he breathed deeply. The sun had fallen some more, casting a gloomy haze around him. It was the perfect contrast to his suddenly bright mood. For the first time in perhaps forever, Aden was hopeful his life could change for the better.

Dan was a few feet ahead, strolling toward the north pasture, and Aden rushed to catch up with him. Even though Aden was just above six feet, Dan towered over him.

A few times over the past week, when Aden thought no one inside his head was paying attention, he’d pretended Dan was his dad. They certainly looked like they could be related. Both of them had pale hair (when Aden didn’t dye his to stop the blond jokes), lips almost too full for a boy and square jaws. When he’d realized what he was doing, though, he’d forced himself to stop. Surprisingly, stopping had made him depressed.

What did his real father look like? Aden didn’t have any pictures. Didn’t even have memories of him. Only thing he knew about the man was that he’d given Aden up. Which meant, he, too, had considered Aden a freak. At least Dan didn’t treat him like a mentally unstable child in need of confinement.

“Let’s get to the heart of the matter, shall we?” Dan said when Aden reached him. He tipped his hat for a better view of the land. “What have you been up to today?”

Aden gulped. He’d expected the question, had even planned his answer. But the only word he could force out of his mouth was, “Nothing.” He hated lying to Dan, but it couldn’t be helped. Who would believe he’d been battling corpses?

“Nothing, huh?” Dan arched a brow in disbelief. “Nothing is the reason your face is smeared with gunk and your neck is eaten up with bite marks? Nothing is the reason you’ve been gone all day? You know you have to keep me informed.”

“I left a note telling you I was exploring the town.” There. Truth. He had explored. Wasn’t his fault he’d stumbled upon the living dead. “I didn’t do anything illegal or hurt anyone.” Again, truth. There was no law against killing people who were already dead, and you couldn’t hurt a corpse. “You have my word.”

Dan removed a toothpick from his shirt pocket and anchored it between his teeth. “Exploring on your day off is fine, encouraged, even, if you gain my permission first. You didn’t. I would have sent my cell phone with you, so I would be able to get a hold of you if necessary. But you didn’t give me the opportunity. You dropped the note on my kitchen counter and snuck out. I could call your caseworker and have you picked up for this.”

His caseworker, Ms. Killerman, was the reason Aden was here. She was hellishly old, probably thirtysomething like Dan, and struck Aden as, well, cold. She’d been assigned to him while he’d been wasting away in the last institution. He’d had a tutor, of course, but he hadn’t been able to leave the grounds.

He’d complained. When Killerman told him about the D and M and placed a request for his admittance, he’d been shocked. And when a spot had finally opened up, he’d been overjoyed. To think that he could now lose that spot as he’d feared earlier, without Dan even seeing that decimated graveyard …

“Aden. Are you listening to me?” Dan asked. “I said I could call your caseworker about this.”

“I know.” He peeked up at Dan, whose features were hidden in shadow. “Are you?”

Silence. Dreadful silence.

Then Dan reached over and mussed his hair. “Not this time. But I’m not always going to be a pushover, you got me? I believe in you, Aden. I want good things for you. But you have to obey my rules.”

The gesture was unexpected, the words wonderfully shocking. I believe in you. Something burned his eyes. Aden refused to believe it was tears, even when his chin started trembling. There might be a girl inside his head, but he wasn’t a wimp.

“Are you still taking your meds?” Dan asked him.

“Yes. Of course.” A lie. Truth, half truths or even omissions wouldn’t work this time. To Dan, admitting he flushed his pills down the toilet would be worse than sneaking into town. Besides, he didn’t need the pills. They made him weak, tired, his mind foggy. Which he was starting to feel anyway, he realized, swaying as a wave of dizziness assaulted him. Stupid corpse poison. Still, with the dizziness came a sense of urgency. “I actually came looking for you when I returned. I—I—“ Do it, just say it. Put it out there. “I want to go to public school. Crossroads High.” There. Done. There would be no taking the words back.

Dan’s brow furrowed. “Public school? Why?”

There was only one explanation that sounded believable. “I’ve never been around normal, average kids my own age, and I think it could be good for me. I could watch them, interact with them, learn from them. Please. I haven’t missed a therapy session since I got here. Twice a week. Dr. Quine thinks I’m doing good.” Dr. Quine was the latest to try and fix him. Aden actually liked her; she truly seemed to care about him.

“I know. She keeps me apprised.”

Which was why Aden guarded his words around the well-meaning doctor, as well. Another wave of dizziness hit him, and he rubbed his temples. “If you’ll just call Ms. Killerman, she can sign the necessary papers and I can be in class by next week. I’ll only have missed the first month, and it’ll be the beginning of my new, normal life. A life you said you wanted for me.”

Dan didn’t even take a moment to think about it. “Good in theory, but … No matter what you tell Dr. Quine, you’re still having conversations with yourself. Don’t try to deny it, because I heard you just this morning. You stare out at nothing for hours, disappear, and even though I just found you with the other boys, you were stiff and angry, so I know you haven’t made friends with them. I’m sorry, kid, but my answer is no.”

“But—”

“Nope. That’s my final verdict. In time, maybe.”

“I haven’t made friends because no one here is interested.”

“Maybe you’re not trying hard enough.”

Aden’s hands clenched at his sides, a red haze clouding his vision. He didn’t know whether it was from the poison or his anger. Maybe he wasn’t trying hard enough, but why should that matter? He didn’t want to make friends with Ozzie and his sheep.

“I know you’re angry, but this is for the best. If you were to hurt one of the students, you’d be incarcerated, no more chances. And like I said, I don’t want that for you. You’re a good kid with a lot of potential. Let’s give you a chance to reach that potential and shine. Okay?”

Some of Aden’s anger drained. How could it not, in the face of Dan’s kindness? His determination, however, only strengthened. He had to attend that school, had to spend more time with Mary Ann. Yeah, he could “accidentally” run into her in town, but when? How often? School was in session five days a week, seven hours a day. There, he’d have a better chance of learning about her, about how she, well, temporarily fixed him.

And, for those seven blessed hours, he’d be at peace. For that, he’d do anything. Even … He gulped, not liking where the thought ended.

“Are you sure?” he asked, giving Dan one last chance.

“Very.”

“Okay, then.” Aden scanned the pasture, then glanced behind him to gauge just how well the dregs could see him from the bunkhouse if they happened to be watching from the windows. A direct view. That was unfortunate but couldn’t be helped. Hopefully, if they were watching, they would assume the drug they’d just smoked was causing hallucinations.

Are you really going to do this? he asked himself. A million things could go wrong. People could learn the extent of his abilities, decide to test him, lock him away forever. A tremor slid the length of his spine, and he nervously licked his lips. Yes. Yes, he was. There was no other way, the outcome too important.

I know what you’re planning, Ad, and it’s not a good idea. Had Caleb possessed a body of his own, he would have been gripping Aden’s shoulders and shaking. Actually, it’s a terrible idea. I don’t have to be a psychic to know that.

Last time he’d done something like this, he’d spent a week in bed, cold, shaking, afraid of every noise, every touch against his skin too much for him to bear. And with the toxin even now traveling through him, the aftermath could be a thousand times worse.

Aden, Eve begin, a lecture clearly imminent.

“I’m sorry, Dan,” Aden said … just before stepping into Dan’s body.

He screamed at the agonizing pain of morphing from solid mass to inconsequential mist, which in turn caused Dan to scream. They fell to their knees, dizzy. Colors were blurring together, the green of the grass with the brown of the cows, the bright red of the tractor with the yellow of the wheat. He was panting, sweating, his stomach threatening to revolt.

Deep breath in, deep breath out. Several minutes passed before he found a center of gravity. The pain ebbed, but only slightly.

Now you’ve gone and done it, Caleb snapped.

“He won’t remember this.” It was weird, knowing he was talking but hearing a different voice come out. “We’ll be fine.” He hoped.

Well, do what you want to do and let’s get the hell out of here, Julian said. God, I can’t believe you sometimes.

Elijah moaned. If anyone ever learns you’re capable of doing this …

“They won’t.” Again, he hoped. Aden forced Dan’s hand to dig into his pocket and remove his cell phone, as if the body were his own. The hand was shaking but he managed to scroll through the address book and find Tamera Killerman. Her number was on speed dial.

Gulping, nervous, Aden connected them.

“Hello?” his caseworker answered after three rings.

You can still walk away, honey. You don’t have to do this, don’t have to risk being found out.

“Hi, Ms. Killerman.” He experienced more of that dizziness, more of that churning in his stomach. Concentrate. “This is Ad—Dan Reeves.”

A pause. A giggle.

A giggle? From calm and collected Killerman? He’d known her over a year, yet she’d rarely even cracked a smile. Aden blinked in surprise.

“Ms. Killerman, is it?” There was a breathless quality to her voice that made Aden’s stomach curdle. “Yesterday you called me sweetheart.”

“I—uh …”

“So how are you, baby, and when will I get to see you again?”

Baby? Why would she—Realization slammed into him, and he scowled, nearly overcome with disappointment and anger. Dan was married. Dan should only ever be called “baby” by his wife. A wife Aden liked. Meg Reeves cooked wonderful meals, had a smile for everyone and had never scolded him. She even hummed while she cleaned her house.

Just then, Aden wanted inside Dan’s memories; he wanted to know why the man would betray such a wonderful woman. But mind reading seemed like the only ability he didn’t possess. Doesn’t matter. Finish what you started before you’re too sick. “Listen, Ms. Killerman. I want to enroll Haden Stone in the local high school. Crossroads High.”

“Haden?” Shock dripped from her now, and Aden imagined her pretty but cool face pinching in confusion. “The schizophrenic? Why?”

His teeth ground together in irritation. I’m not schizophrenic! “Interacting with the other students will be good for m—him. Besides, in the short amount of time he’s been here, he’s improved so much I’m not even sure why he’s here.” Too much?

“That’s great, but are you sure he’s ready? When we talked yesterday you said he was progressing slowly.”

He had, had he? “Yesterday I wasn’t talking about Aden. I was talking about Ozzie Harmon.” Take that, dreg. “Aden is totally ready.”

“Totally?” She laughed again. “Dan, are you all right? You sound a little … I don’t know, unlike yourself.”

He swayed, barely caught himself. “I’m fine. Just tired. Anyway, if you could set this into motion for me, I’d really appreciate it.” Surely that was something Dan would say. “Okay?”

“Okay. I guess. But do you still want Shannon Ross to attend Crossroads, as well?”

Shannon? Why Shannon? And why had no one been told? “Yes. Talk to you later,” he added before she could ask more questions. “Baby.”

Click.

For a long while, Aden stared down at the phone, struggling to breathe, his shaking intensified. Thankfully, Ms. Killerman never called back.

Later, when Dan was alone, he’d remember his chat with Aden yet think he’d made the phone call of his own volition. He’d wonder at his motives, but would not recall the way Aden had stepped inside him. They never did. Maybe because their minds couldn’t process it. Maybe because Aden took the memory with him.

Either way, he wondered if Dan would call Killerman back and tell her that he changed his mind. And would Killerman follow through on her promise to set things into motion?

Only time would tell.

Now all Aden had to do was wait. That, and heal, he thought, as he and Dan hunched over and vomited. Great. His battle with the poison had finally begun.

FOUR

ADEN SPENT THE NEXT SIX DAYS in and out of consciousness. Several times he wanted to give up, just end it all and float away from the scalding mass of pain that was his body. But he didn’t. He fought. Fought harder than he’d ever fought for anything, one thought driving him: the peace that came with Mary Ann.

A few times, he’d even hallucinated and thought he saw her hovering over him, that long dark hair tickling his chest. Or maybe Elijah’s ability was expanding and he’d had another non-death vision, catching glimpses of the future. Only, unlike in real life, her skin had been pale rather than sun kissed and as hot as a living flame. What’s more, her eyes had been bright blue rather than hazel.

There were a few explanations for the differences. Either his visions had never been of Mary Ann and he still had yet to truly meet his brunette or, sick as he’d been, he’d simply gotten the details wrong this time.

Both were entirely possible. He’d realized that while he had seen his brunette in the dark recesses of his mind too many times to count, he’d never really retained knowledge about her actual facial features.

The face he’d seen this week, well, he would not be forgetting.

“Sleep,” she’d said, fingertips gently coasting over his brow and leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “When you heal, there is much for us to discuss.”

“Like?” he’d managed to work past the rawness of his throat.

“Like how you summoned my people. Like how I still feel the hum of you. Like how that hum stopped for a little bit of time. Like why you want us here. Like whether or not we’ll allow you to live. We will talk, though, when your blood smells less like the living dead.”

It was a conversation he couldn’t even begin to explain.

Unlike his encounters with Mary Ann, he hadn’t wanted to run from this apparition, nor had he wanted to hug her as he would a sister. He hadn’t experienced that painful gust of wind, either. He’d wanted to tangle his hands in her hair, draw her close, so close, and drink in the scent of her. Honeysuckle and rose. He’d wanted to kiss her the way they’d kissed in the visions.

Eventually, though, the fever faded, and the hallucinations ended. His sweating ebbed and his muscles stopped seizing, leaving him weak and hungry.

Finally, Aden lumbered from his bed, his only clothing a pair of boxers that were sweat-dried to his skin. He’d hidden the worst of his pain, keeping his moans contained inside his head. Anything to avoid hospitals and doctors, pinching and poking and questions. God, the questions.

He’d been excused from tutoring sessions and barn duty all week. Dan had kept tabs on him, though, flittering in and out of his room, expression concerned yet somewhat suspicious. If they’d had a heart-to-heart about what was going on, Aden didn’t remember it. Only thing he remembered was Dan asking if he knew anything about the desecration of the cemetery. Apparently several stations had blasted the story as he’d feared. He’d had the presence of mind to say no.

He swiped up the peanut butter sandwich Dan had left him during his final visit this morning and downed it in three bites. Stomach calming, he quickly showered and changed into a pair of jeans and a plain gray T-shirt. Dan was taking him and Shannon shopping. That, too, he remembered. It was something the big guy had never done before and there was only one reason Aden could think of for such a trip: Dan was going to allow them to attend Crossroads High.

His relief was palpable. So many things could have gone wrong. Ms. Killerman could have changed her mind and opted not to follow Dan’s recommendation. Dan could have chalked the “decision” to let Aden loose on the public school system up to a moment of insanity and canceled the paperwork.

A hand slapped his open door frame, the loud boom jolting him, and then Shannon was peeking inside. His green eyes were devoid of emotion. “T-time to g-go.” Without waiting for Aden’s response, he pivoted and stalked away. Down the hall, the main door slammed shut.

One by one, the souls woke up, stretching and sighing. Great.

What’s going on? Eve asked sleepily.

“School shopping,” he muttered as he strode from his room. “So we’ll talk later. Okay?”

Ozzie and Seth were standing in front of their bedroom door, arms crossed over their chests. Everyone had a roommate but Aden. No one wanted to share quarters with the schizo, and that was fine with him.

“Talking to yourself again?” Seth said with a laugh. “Why? It’s not like you’re all that stimulating.”

Aden raised his chin and tried to move past them.

Ozzie grabbed his arm, jerking him to a stop. “Where do you think you’re going, Crazy? You’ve been hiding from me lately, and we’ve got a few things to discuss.”

Aden whipped his attention to the boy, the urge to attack strong. He didn’t like being threatened like this. Too many times in too many institutions, he’d been held down and beaten up.

You can’t afford to punch it out with Ozzie, Eve said.

If Ozzie continued to push him like this, Aden wouldn’t be able to help himself. His patience was used up. He would attack. And he wouldn’t fight fair. Even now, his daggers were pressed against his ankles, waiting.

“Let go,” he snarled.

Ozzie blinked in surprise, but maintained his grip. “You better be talking to one of your invisible friends, freak, or I swear to God I’ll cut you to ribbons while you sleep.”

Seth snickered.

Aden’s jaw clenched.

I’m serious, Aden. Don’t engage him, Eve said on a trembling breath.

Continue down this path and you might not make your first day of school, Elijah warned. And if you don’t make your first day, you won’t see the girl.

He jerked free from Ozzie and strode away without another word.

“Look at the little baby run,” Ozzie called.

His cheeks heated but he didn’t turn around. Better to let them think poorly of him than to prove just how wrong they were. Because, in the proving, someone would be hurt and it wouldn’t be him. And, as Elijah had reminded him, Mary Ann and public school loomed on the horizon. He would have to be a good little robot, not make waves, and avoid trouble as if it were a cemetery.

Outside, the brightness of the sun had his eyes watering. He blinked against it, searching for Dan’s truck. His gaze snagged on the line of trees beside the main house, zooming in, and his jaw dropped. There, in the shadows, stood the brunette. His brunette. The one from his visions.

Only, she wasn’t Mary Ann. He realized it now beyond any doubt.

This girl was taller, with a face that belonged in magazines. Those big blue eyes were framed by long black lashes. She had a small nose and heart-shaped lips that were bloodred. Her skin was as pale as snow. Her hair was long, hanging to her waist and curling slightly. Those curls were so black they seemed tinted with blue, and they swirled around her shoulders with every breeze.

Was this a vision? he suddenly wondered. Or was she really there?

A boy stood behind her, tall and menacing, his skin tanned, his body a powerhouse of muscle stacked upon muscle.

Both wore black: The boy a T-shirt and slacks, the girl a robe of some sort. It draped one shoulder like a toga while leaving the other bare, was cinched in the middle by silver links and flowed down the rest of her to dance at her ankles.

Both were staring at him. The boy with menace, the girl with curiosity.

Not knowing what else to do, he waved.

Neither reacted.

“Aden,” Dan called. “Who’re you waving to? Let’s go.”

“But—” He turned, meaning to ask for a few more minutes. He had to know if the two were real. But Dan was motioning him to the truck, expression impatient in the hot, glaring sun. Shannon was already inside. Aden faced the line of trees in the distance once more, but the pair was gone. “Did you see them?” he whispered.

Who? Eve asked. The witch and the angry he-man?

They were real, then. He almost whooped in excitement. She was here. Finally she was here. Who was she? What was her name? What had brought her here? How had she found him? Why had she found him?

When would he see her again?

Elijah sighed. You know the bad feeling I got when you followed that girl last week? Well, I’ve got a worse feeling about these two. But yeah, I know where you’re going with this. She’s the one from the visions.

We’ve had visions of her? Where was I? Because day-um. It’s official, Caleb said. I’m hot.

Aden rolled his eyes.

“Aden,” Dan called. “I’m drowning in my own sweat. I said let’s go.”

There was still no sign of them in the trees. No hint of that black dress or a lock of hair blowing in the wind. Where had they gone? Why had they gone?

“Aden! Last chance before I leave without you.”

Though he wanted to stay, he forced himself to trudge to the truck, contenting himself with the knowledge that she would return. One day, they would kiss. Elijah had predicted her arrival, after all, and that had come true. The kiss would, as well. Aden’s lips lifted in a grin.

“What?” Dan asked him.

“Just excited,” he said, and it was the truth.

“About shopping? What a g-girl,” Shannon muttered.

He didn’t care. Nothing was going to ruin his good mood today.

They made the twenty-five minute drive to Tri City in silence. Aden used every second to try and piece together what had happened. Since the girl, his girl, and the boy were indeed real, truly here, that meant the girl had come to him while he’d been sick. She’d cared for him. Had wanted to talk to him, have him answer some questions.

She’d wanted to know how he … What had she said? Summoned her people? His brow furrowed. What people? He had summoned no one.

And what about the boy? Were they siblings? The two had looked nothing alike, but that didn’t mean anything. Were they only friends? Or were they together together? His hands fisted. Okay. Something could ruin his good mood.

Honey bear, I can feel how hard your brain is working, Eve said. You’re giving us a headache.

“I’m—” He barely stopped himself from apologizing out loud.

When Dan idled to a stop in front of the local supercenter, his hands tightened on the steering wheel. “You’ve got an hour, boys. Buy some clothes, some school supplies, but do not leave the building. I’m trusting you. If you’re not waiting for me when I return, bags in your hands, you’re out of the ranch. That’s the end. No excuses. Understand?”

Aden didn’t meet his gaze. He hadn’t been able to do so since that night in the field when he’d learned about Ms. Killerman.

“Understand?”

“Y-yeah,” Shannon mumbled as Aden said, “Yes.”

Dan handed them each a fifty-dollar bill. “All’s I’ve got. I hope you can make it work.”

“Th-thanks.” Shannon climbed out.

“Aden,” Dan said, stopping Aden when he tried to do the same. “Just so you know, you’re not going to class on Monday.”

His eyes widened. “What? Why?”

“Don’t worry. You’re going to the school, but you’ve got to do the placement tests before you can actually go to class. You’ll have results within an hour of turning in your work—computers are a wonderful thing—so we’ll know if you even qualify. Shannon took his last week, but you were too sick. I think you’ll pass, hence the shopping today so you’re all ready come Tuesday.”

He nodded, relieved that he still had a chance to attend public school but mad that it wasn’t already a done deal as he’d supposed. When he stepped onto the curb and shut the door behind him, he looked around. The place was packed but there was no sign of Shannon.

Would it have killed him to wait for you? Caleb griped.

As he shopped, his friends telling him what clothes would look good on him, he spotted the dreg a few times. Shannon flipped through the racks and pretended not to notice him.

“Like I wanted to spend time with you,” he muttered.

“Time with who?” someone asked.

He glanced up and saw that an older woman stood beside him. She had too-bright red hair that was sprayed in what looked to be a beehive. She wore a short-sleeved dress that was far too big. Her face, arms and legs seemed to … sparkle, as if she’d bathed in glitter. Weird.

That, he could deal with, though. It was the zaps of electricity seeming to pour off her, causing the fine hairs on his body to rise, that freaked him out. How was she doing that?

“No one,” he said, stepping away to increase the distance between them. He didn’t trust strangers. Even strangers who seemed as well-meaning as this one.

“Oh, posh. Something’s bothering you, and I’d love to hear what it is. I haven’t spoken to anyone in ages. Frankly, at this point I think I’d listen to a discussion about the mating habits of ants.”

Was she serious? “Lady, you’re creeping me out.”

There’s nothing wrong with honesty, Caleb said with a laugh.

A couple walking by glanced over at him as if he were insane. Okay, maybe there was something wrong with honesty.

“I’m sorry you’re creeped out,” the old woman said, and then continued her inane chatter. Not about ants, but about her son, his wife, their kids, and how she hadn’t gotten to tell them goodbye before they’d moved away from her. “Maybe you could, I don’t know, tell them goodbye for me.”

“I don’t even know them.”

“Haven’t you been listening? I’ve been telling you all about them!” And she proceeded to do so again.

After a while, Aden did his best to tune her out.

You’ll need notebooks, binders, pencils and folders, Julian said when the clothing total reached thirty-five dollars and eighty-three cents. With tax. Eve kept track of the money. No one was better with numbers.

“How do you know what I need?” he asked Julian, glancing around to make sure no one was paying him any attention. The old lady didn’t pause in her patter.

A memory, I guess.

He’d often suspected the souls had lived before being paired with him. Every so often, they remembered things that had happened to them, things that couldn’t have happened to them while they were inside Aden’s body.

Aden left the men’s section with four shirts and a pair of pants, and headed toward the supplies. Of course, the woman trailed after him. Still talking. He would have liked a new pair of tennis shoes, but his boots would have to do. Easier to hide weapons that way.

After he gathered everything and paid, his total for the day six cents shy of fifty dollars, he carried his bags outside to wait. Thankfully, the woman didn’t follow him this time.

He had twenty minutes to spare. The sun was high, glaring, and sweat soon beaded over him. He leaned against the side of the building, one lucky half of his body then in the shade. Shannon joined him a few minutes later, stone-faced as always, only one bag in hand.

Aden wanted to ask him what he’d bought but knew he’d get no answer.

“How’d you g-get so much?” Shannon asked without looking at him.

The question surprised him so much that he couldn’t find his voice.

Answer the boy, Eve coaxed.

“I, uh, only bought sale items.”

Shannon nodded stiffly and said no more.

I’m so proud of you. You’re becoming friends already. If she’d had hands, Eve would have been clapping.

Aden didn’t have the heart to correct her. SUNDAY NIGHT, Aden lay awake till morning, nervous, excited, hoping his mystery girl would return. She never did. With two hours until it was time to leave for school, he got up and showered, brushed his teeth, then dressed in his new clothes. He couldn’t stop smiling—until he spotted himself in the mirror.

Sometime in the last two days, probably while he’d been out catching up on his chores, someone had sneaked inside his room and written on his shirt before folding it and placing it back in its sack where he’d left it. The words Hello, My Name Is Crazy stared back at him.

Aden’s hands fisted on the hem, wrinkling the material. That stupid Ozzie! And he had no doubt Ozzie was the culprit, if not the one to do it then the one to order it done.

Oh, Aden. I’m so sorry, Eve said.

You need to punish him, Caleb said. Maybe wake him up with an introduction to your fists.

That’s one way to settle it, Julian agreed. If you want to miss your test and your first and probably only chance to go to public school.

And your chance to see the girl, Elijah added, because he knew the mention of Mary Ann had calmed Aden down last time.

In and out Aden breathed. A quick search of the other shirts proved that they were equally ruined. His jaw clenched. “Doesn’t matter,” he said. He only wished he believed it.

The kids at Crossroads High will think it’s a joke, Elijah told him. Maybe it will even become the new style.

Whether his friend spoke true or not, he didn’t care. Or rather, he wouldn’t let himself care. Today was too important. On the best of days, he tested poorly, his concentration shot. He needed every thought in his mind focused only on success.

Still wearing the offending shirt, he stomped out of the bunkhouse to the porch. His eyes were narrowed as he scanned the line of trees. There was no sign of the brunette or her friend. That was good, he told himself. He didn’t need the distraction they presented, either. He’d only wonder why they hadn’t approached him again, whether they meant him harm, and if the girl—what was her name?—had liked being with him as much as he’d liked being with her.

If only she stopped the voices like Mary Ann did, she would have been perfect.

He must have stood there, lost in thoughts he couldn’t afford, for his remaining hour, because the next thing he knew, Dan was strolling to the truck with two lunch sacks in hand.

The door behind Aden creaked open, and he turned, spying Shannon. Shannon saw his shirt and gazed guiltily at the ground. Guess that meant he’d been involved. Aden capped his anger again and headed for the truck, meeting Dan at the door.

Dan noticed his shirt and frowned. “What happened?”

“Nothing.” A muscle ticked in his jaw. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

There was a heavy pause. “You sure?”

He nodded.

Dan sighed, unlocked the door. Aden slid inside, scooting to the middle. By the time Dan claimed the driver’s seat and Shannon the passenger’s, he felt completely penned in. Thank God it was only an eight-minute and thirty-three second drive—not that he was keeping track or anything. When they were parked in front of the school, Dan faced them.

“Here’s your lunch,” he said. “Peanut butter and jelly. It’ll have to do for today. Tomorrow, Meg will pack you something better. Now, listen. Mess up, and you’re out.”

Great. They were about to get the same lecture they’d gotten at the supercenter.

“I’m not kidding,” Dan continued. “If you skip class, pick a fight, hell, if one of your teachers thinks you’re looking at him wrong, I will pull you from school so quickly your head will spin. Understand?”

“Yes,” they said in unison.

“Good. Shannon, you’ve got your schedule and can head to your first class. Aden, you go to the guidance office. School ends at three and it’s only a thirty-minute walk home. I’ll give you forty-five in case you’re held up by a teacher or something, but if you’re not home in time … “

You’ll be out, Aden finished for him.

Shannon filed from the truck and when Aden tried to do the same, Dan grabbed his arm. Total déjà vu. Only, Dan didn’t give him another lecture like he had at the store. He merely smiled. “Good luck, Aden. Don’t let me down in there.”

FIVE

THE DAY BEGAN like any other for Mary Ann. She crawled out of bed, showered, tugged on the clothes she’d laid out the night before, and blew dry her hair while outlining what she needed to turn in or which upcoming tests to study for. This week’s most important exam was chemistry, one of her hardest subjects. Only problem was, thoughts of Aden Stone kept interfering.

Penny had admitted to giving him Mary Ann’s number. So why hadn’t he called? An entire week had passed. Part of her had expected it and had jumped every time her phone had rung. He’d seemed so eager to talk to her. The other part of her, however, had hoped that he wouldn’t contact her. He was gorgeous, but after that first initial attraction, she’d felt only confused and friendly toward him—when she wasn’t experiencing that strange urge to run.

Did she even want to be his friend? Being near him was like being punched in the chest; her body only wanted to escape him. Her mind, though … it mourned his loss. Mourned, as if he were somehow dear to her.

Steam began to rise from her scalp, and she hurriedly switched the dryer off. She had to stop thinking of that boy. Already he was screwing with her mind, making it mush—proving that she’d been right to date Tucker and stay with him these last few months. Tucker always made her feel pretty, boosting her self-esteem, but he didn’t consume her. He gave her the space she needed.

With a sigh, she trudged downstairs. Her dad had breakfast ready: pecan waffles with blueberry syrup. She ate two while he read the paper and drank his coffee. Their usual routine.

“Want a ride to school?” he asked. He folded his paper and set it aside, peering over at her expectantly.

He always knew when she’d finished eating without being told.

“Nah. Walking will increase the amount of oxygen in my brain, which will help as I mentally pore through my notes about synthesizing iodide.” Which was also the reason she didn’t ride with Tucker, though he, too, always offered. He liked to chat and that would have distracted her. Penny was perpetually late, so she was a no-go, as well.

Her dad’s lips twitched into a smile, and he shook his head. “Always studying.”

When he smiled like that his entire face lit up and she could see why her friends crushed on him. In looks, he was her opposite. He had blond hair and blue eyes, was brawny where she was slim. The only thing they had in common was their youth (or so he was fond of saying). He was only thirty-five, which was young for a parent. (Again, words straight from his mouth.) He’d married her mom soon after high school and they’d had her right away.

Maybe that’s why they’d married. Because of her. That wasn’t why they’d stayed together, though. Oh, they’d fought a lot but they’d clearly loved each other. The way they’d stared over at each other, expressions soft, had been proof of that. But sometimes, because of the things they’d verbally hurled at each other, Mary Ann used to suspect her dad had cheated on her mom and her mother had never gotten over it.

“You wish I was her, don’t you?” her mother had liked to shout at him.

He’d always denied it.

For many years, Mary Ann had resented him for the possibility. Her sweet mother hadn’t worked, had stayed home and taken care of Mary Ann, the house and all the chores. But when she had died, his utter despondency convinced Mary Ann of his innocence. Plus, he’d been alone now for several years. He hadn’t gone on a single date. Hadn’t even glanced at another woman.

“You remind me more of your mom every day,” he said, his mind obviously taking the same path hers had. His eyes were glazed with memories, his mouth soft with a smile. “Not just in appearance, either. She loved chemistry, too.”

“Are you kidding? She hated math, and chemistry is filled with little equations that would have driven her insane.” The only homework her mom had been able to help her with was English and art. “Besides, who said I loved chemistry? I do it because it’s necessary.”

Mary Ann knew what he was doing, though. Lying to make her feel closer to her mom, as if death didn’t separate them. She leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead. “Don’t worry, Dad. I’ll never forget her.”

“I know,” he said softly. “I’m glad. She was an amazing woman who turned this house into a home.”

Soon after her dad opened his own practice, they’d had the money to buy this two-story estate. Her mom had been ecstatic. She and her sister, Anne, Mary Ann’s namesake who’d died before Mary Ann was born, had grown up poor and this had been her first taste of wealth. Her mom had turned the walls from stark white to inviting colors, and had hung up photos of the three of them. She’d saturated the once stifling air with the scent of her sweet perfume and had warmed the cold tile with plush, multihued rugs.

Her father cleared his throat, bringing them both back from their memories. “I have to work late tonight. You’ll be okay?”

“Absolutely. I plan to finish reading that article on ADD and OCD. It’s pretty interesting. I mean, did you know that thirty-four percent of kids with—”

“Dear God, I’ve created a monster.” He reached over and mussed her hair. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, honey, but you need to get out more. Live a little. Several of my patients see me for this very reason, not realizing the stress they’ve placed upon themselves has begun to wear them down, that time off heals just as much as laughter. Honestly, even I go on vacation. You’re sixteen. You should be reading books about wizard boys and gossipy girls.”

She frowned. She’d read the article to impress him, and now he didn’t want to hear about it? Now he wanted her head buried in fiction? “I’m expanding my mind, Dad.”

“And I’m proud of you for that, but I still think you need some time off. Time devoted to fun. What about Tucker? You guys could go to dinner. And before you say anything, I know I threatened to castrate him the first time you guys went out, but I’ve gotten used to the idea of you having a boyfriend. Not that you spend much time with him anymore.”

“Most nights, we talk on the phone,” she protested. “But he has football practice or a game every night of the week, and I have homework. And on weekends, as you know, I practically live at the Watering Pot.”

“Okay, well, that doesn’t help for tonight. What about … Penny? She could come over and you guys could watch a movie.”

He really was worried about her social life if he was suggesting she hang out with Penny. That begged the question of why. Did he feel guilty that she spent so much time on her own? He shouldn’t. She enjoyed her own company. There was no pressure to be something she wasn’t anymore: bubbly, carefree. “All I can promise is to find her at school and ask her what she has planned,” she told him, because she knew it was what he wanted to hear. Most likely, she’d spend the evening with her head buried in her chem book.

“Which means you’re not actually going to invite her over.”

She shrugged, remaining silent.

Sighing, he checked his watch. “You’d better get going. A tardy will ruin your perfect record.”

Classic Dr. Gray. When he wasn’t getting the results he wanted, he sent her away so that he could strategize and resume the argument later with a new plan of attack.

Mary Ann stood. “Love you, Dad. I look forward to winning round two when you get home.” She gathered her backpack and, with a wave, strolled to the front door.

He chuckled. “I don’t deserve you, you know?”

“I know,” she called over her shoulder, and could hear his renewed laughter as the door shut behind her.

When she exited her house, she immediately noticed a large, really large—ginormously large—black dog … wolf? … lying on its belly in the shade, only a few feet away from her. No way to miss it; it was like a car parked in her yard. Her blood instantly chilled.

The moment it spotted her, it jackknifed to its feet, lips pulling back from its teeth, revealing long, white fangs. A growl rumbled from its throat, low and menacing.

“D-Dad,” she tried to yell, but the sudden lump in her throat muted the sound of her voice. Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God.

One step, two, she backed away, her entire body trembling. Blood rushed through her ears, terror screaming through her mind. Those green eyes were cold, hard … hungry? She spun, meaning to sprint back inside the house. The beast leapt in front of her and blocked the door.

Oh, God. What should she do? What the hell should she do? Once more, she found herself backing away. This time, it followed, keeping the same, too-short distance between them.

She inched backward another step, and the heel of her tennie caught on something. Down, down she tumbled, landing on her butt with a painful thwack. What had—Her backpack, she realized. It now provided a comfy rest for her knees. When had she dropped it? Does it matter? she thought with a wild laugh. I’m as good as dead.

No way could she outrun the wolf now. Not that she’d ever had a chance, really. And it was a wolf, probably a wild one. It was simply too big to be a dog. She swallowed a whimper. Would have been nice to lead it on a chase, though, rather than splaying herself out like an all-you-can-eat dinner buffet.

Her only hope was that someone was outside, watching the confrontation—someone who’d either run to help or call 911. A quick peek to her left showed that Penny’s Mustang GT was sitting in the Parkses’ driveway, but there was no sign of life outside or even inside the house. A quick peek to her right showed her other neighbor had already left for work. Oh. God.

The wolf was on her a second later, its front legs pushing her shoulders into the ground. Still she couldn’t scream, her voice gone, stolen.

Don’t just lie there. Do something! She reached up, clamping its mouth shut with one hand and trying to heave it off her with the other. It merely jerked its muzzle from her grip and then batted her other arm away. Never had she felt so helpless. At least it wasn’t drooling.

Slowly it leaned down. She flinched, pressing herself as deep into the ground as she could, a sound finally escaping her: a whimper. Rather than eat her face off as she’d assumed, it sniffed her neck. Its nose was cold, dry, its breath warm as it exhaled. It smelled of soap and pine.

What. The. Hell?

What should I do? What should I do?

Another sniff, this one lingering, and then it was backing away from her. When she was free of its weight, she gradually rose, careful not to make any sudden movements. Their eyes locked, emotionless green against fearful hazel.

“G-good doggie,” she managed to get out.

It growled.

She clamped her lips together. No speaking, then.

It motioned to the right with its muzzle. A get out of here gesture? When she remained in place, the animal did it again. Gulping, Mary Ann lumbered to her feet, dragging her backpack with her. Her legs were still trembling and she almost toppled over her own feet as she backed away. While she retreated, she unzipped her pack and reached inside for her cell phone.

The wolf shook its head.

She stilled. One heartbeat, two. You can do it. Just need to press 911. Now that she’d recovered her voice, common sense was returning. No way she’d scream for her dad and have him come racing to the rescue. He despised guns and would be helpless against such a large creature.

Move it! Mary Ann inched back into motion, finally latching onto her phone. The wolf growled when she pressed the first button. Again, she stilled. He quieted. Her blood crystallized in her veins, an ice shower that only increased her trembling. Even the sun’s strong morning rays refused to warm her.

Another button.

Another growl. This time, the wolf stepped toward her, front legs bending, placing it in the perfect position to pounce.

It couldn’t know what she was doing. It couldn’t know what would happen if she pressed that final button. No matter how much intelligence seemed to glow from those meadowlike eyes.

Her muscles tensed as she applied pressure to her thumb. In the blink of an eye, the wolf launched at her, snagging the cell between its teeth. Mary Ann gasped, momentarily paralyzed with fear, relief and uncertainty. Those teeth … they’d come so close to ripping into her palm, but they hadn’t even grazed her.

Forcing herself into action, she whipped around, knowing better than to give the creature her back for any length of time. It was waiting at the base of her dad’s favorite plum tree, the black plastic still stuck between its lips, sitting as calmly as if it were picnicking. Once again, it motioned to the side.

Slowly losing her fear, Mary Ann stumbled in that direction. Even though the wolf hadn’t hurt her and seemed to mean her no harm, she arced around it, keeping as much distance between them as she could.

She walked backwards, too, keeping it in her sights.

A weary breath left it. A sigh? And then it was loping forward, in front of her, maintaining a steady pace, the scrape of its nails against the ground ringing in her ears. Every so often, it glanced backward to make sure she followed.

Not knowing what else to do, she did.

Somehow it—he—knew the way to school. Though there were three ways to get there from her house, he took the route she preferred. Had he followed her before? Could he scent where she’d been?

Were my waffles sprinkled with crack? she wondered. This couldn’t be real.

Smart as he clearly was, the wolf remained in the shadows, out of sight from traffic. Mary Ann suddenly wished she knew more about animals. But she didn’t. Her parents hadn’t liked them—or their pooping and peeing and shedding—so she’d never really been around them. Perhaps that dislike had even rubbed off on her. Penny owned a Chihuahua named Dobi, but Mary Ann avoided that barking, growling little crap machine as though her life depended on it.

Finally Crossroads High came into view and she breathed a sigh of relief. It was a new building, large and red, winding into a half circle. Cars meandered through the parking lot, Go Jaguars written on the windshields. Kids milled around outside, basking in the warm summer haze that would soon be replaced by an ice-cold fall. Except … Some of her relief faded. Would the wolf attack them?

Tucker’s truck sped past her, and then his tires were squealing as he jerked to a stop. Thank God! The wolf dropped her phone and backed up. When he was far enough away to ease her mind, she raced forward and grabbed the cell. Her gaze remained locked on him as she backpedaled, throwing open Tucker’s passenger door and flinging herself inside. The wolf disappeared into the thick green trees and bushes that surrounded the school.

That last look he’d shot her had been laced with disappointment. Even anger. She gulped. At least he hadn’t sprung forward and started chomping at the truck.

“This is new,” Tucker said, deep voice drawing her attention.

He had shaggy, sandy hair and gray eyes, coloring that might have been dull on anyone else. On Tucker, with his boyish face, dimples and athletic body, it was heart-stopping.

She’d never understood why he’d chosen to ask her out, much less why he’d wanted to keep dating her, since they so rarely spent time together outside of school. All the cheerleaders adored him, especially their leader, Christy Hayes, the beloved beauty responsible for wet dreams statewide. But Tucker wanted nothing to do with her, was always brushing her off to be with Mary Ann. Which, she hated to admit, did as much for her self-esteem as Tucker’s compliments.

You’re so beautiful, he was fond of saying. I’m so lucky to be with you.

She would smile for hours afterward.

Tucker chuckled, pulling her from her thoughts. “Now this is what I’m used to.”

“What do you mean?” The longer they sat there, the more her trembling faded.

“You’re ignoring me, lost in your thoughts.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” Did she do that a lot? She hadn’t realized. Would have to make more of an effort to stay focused. So what had they been talking about, anyway? Oh, yeah. “What is new?” she asked.

The truck eased forward. “You’re pale as a ghost and eager for a ride. Why?”

To tell him about the wolf or not? Not, she decided without any deliberation. Didn’t take a genius to know she would be laughed at and ridiculed. A wolf had escorted her to school? Please. Who would believe it? It wasn’t something she truly believed.

“Just, uh, nervous about my chem test tomorrow.” Lying wasn’t something she usually did and guilt quickly began to eat at her.

He shuddered. “Chemistry sucks. I still don’t understand why you signed up for advanced studies with Mr. Klein. Guy makes a doorknob look fun.” Before she could reply, he added, “You look smokin’ today, by the way.”

See? Who else would even think of saying something like that to her? She grinned. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, but I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true.” Tucker parked.

And this is why I stay with him, she thought, smile growing all the wider.

They emerged, and she immediately searched the side of the school, peering into the trees. No sign of her wolf. That didn’t lessen the sudden feeling of being watched, though, and she lost her grin. Note to self: research wolves. Maybe fear made prey taste better and this was some sort of new stalk, terrify into stupidity and then kill technique. If so, there was no better prey than Mary Ann.

“Come on.” Tucker wound an arm around her waist and led her forward. He didn’t seem to notice her renewed trembling.

There, resting on the bike rails, was Tucker’s group. Crew. Whatever. Mary Ann knew them, of course, but she rarely hung out with them. They didn’t approve of her, something they made clear by ignoring her every time she approached. Each of them played football, though she couldn’t have named their positions to save her life.

The boys slapped each other’s hands in greeting. And yes, they pretended that she wasn’t there. Tucker never seemed to notice the disrespect and she never said anything. She wasn’t sure how he’d react—whether he’d side with her or his friends—and it simply wasn’t worth her time to worry about it.

“Did you hear?” Shane Weston, the school’s resident prankster, grinned and hopped to his feet, fairly bursting with the need to share.

Nate Dowling rubbed his hands together. “It’s our lucky day.”

“Let me tell, Dow,” Shane growled.

Nate held his hands up, palms out, brow raised impatiently.

Shane’s grin returned. “Fresh meat,” he said. “Two witnesses, Michelle and Shonna, saw Principal White greet them.”

Huh? Mary Ann gazed up at Tucker.

He gave a grin of his own as he and Shane nodded at each other in understanding.

“New kids,” Nate elaborated. “Two of ‘em.”

While they laughed about all the ways to initiate the newcomers properly, the poor kids, Mary Ann wandered to her first class. Mr. Klein lectured on all the things that would be in their test, but for the first time that year, she had trouble forcing herself to concentrate. She’d caught several whispered conversations on her trek through the halls.

Both new kids were juniors, like her, and both were male. One was tall with dark hair and black eyes, but no one had spoken to him. He’d holed up in the guidance offices. Was it … could it be … Aden? Those eyes …

The other was black, gorgeous, with green eyes—like her wolf?—and a hard but quiet demeanor.

Wait. Had she really just compared a human’s eyes to a wolf’s? The thought made her laugh.

“Ms. Gray?” the teacher said reprovingly.

Everyone in the classroom turned to peer at her.

Heat flooded her cheeks. “Sorry, Mr. Klein. You may continue.”

That earned several chuckles from the students and a glare from the head of the class.

Throughout the rest of the day, she watched for new faces. It wasn’t until after lunch that she found one. Shannon Ross was in her history class; she spotted him from the door. He was as beautiful as everyone had said, tall with eyes of light green—yep, just like the wolf—and just as quiet.

Mary Ann had lived in Crossroads for a long time now, but could sympathize with being new, knowing no one. He’d taken a desk in back and she slid into the one next to him. Wouldn’t hurt to warn him about Tucker and crew, either.

“Hi,” she said. Kids had been gossiping about him all day. Currently, the favorite story was that he was one of the troublemakers who lived at the D and M Ranch owned by Dan Reeves. Oh, and he’d killed both his parents. By this time tomorrow, he would have killed a sister and brother, too, she was sure.

Mary Ann had seen Dan around town and had heard the stories about him. Supposedly, his parents had died young and he’d lived with his grandparents. He’d been wild and in constant trouble with the law, yet he’d also been magic on the football field and managed to go pro. Only a few years in, though, he’d hurt his back and had to quit, at which point he’d decided to open his home to boys as troubled as he’d once been. Still. Most of the people in Crossroads still worshipped him—even though they disapproved of who he allowed to live with him.

Shannon flicked her a nervous glance. “Hi.”

“I’m Mary Ann Gray. If you need anything, I—”

“I—I—I won’t need anything,” he rushed out. A clear dismissal.

“Oh. Okay.” Wow, that stung. “Just … maybe stay away from the football players. They like to torture the new kids. Their way of welcoming them, I guess.” Her cheeks were hot for the second time that day as she claimed her rightful seat. The rest of the class filed inside just as the bell rang.

Before Mr. Thompson discussed the age of imperialism, he had Shannon stand at the front of the class and tell everyone a little about himself, an exercise he stuttered his way through, kids laughing the entire time. Mary Ann lost the threads of her own humiliation. No wonder he’d sent her away. He didn’t like conversing with people. It embarrassed him.

She smiled at him as he made his way back to his seat, but he didn’t see. He kept his eyes fixed on the painted concrete at his feet.

They shared their next class, too. Computer science. They sat close to each other, but she didn’t try and talk to him. Not again, not yet. He’d probably just reject her again.

Tucker was in the class, as well. He’d sat next to Mary Ann until last week, when Ms. Goodwin had moved him for talking.

“Hey, Tuck,” Shane whispered from across the room.

Tucker looked. So did Mary Ann and a few others in the room. Not Shannon, though. As he had in the last class, he kept his head down.

Shane motioned toward Shannon with a tilt of his chin. Do something, he mouthed.

Mary Ann clutched the edge of her desk. “Don’t,” she said. “Please.”

“Miss Gray,” the teacher admonished. “That’s enough from you.”

“I’m sorry,” she managed to choke out. She’d gone nearly all month without getting in trouble, yet she’d been reprimanded twice in one day.

Tucker mouthed, “Don’t worry” and raised his hand, drawing attention away from her.

Ms. Goodwin sighed. “Yes, Mr. Harbor.”

“Can I go to the bathroom?”

“I don’t know. Can you?”

He glowered. “May I?”

“Fine. But do not loiter or you’ll find yourself in detention tomorrow.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Tucker stood. He walked from the room and shut the door, and Mary Ann’s shoulders hunched in relief. Scene avoided.

Only, Tucker never veered from the door.

He peered through its small, square window at Shane. Shane held out his hands and Tucker nodded.

Shane stood, and he was suddenly clutching a slithering, hissing snake. Thin, with yellow and green scales and a bright red head. A lump of fear knotted Mary Ann’s throat, cutting off her gasp. Dear God. Where had it come from? How had it appeared seemingly out of thin air?

Shane glanced at Ms. Goodwin to make sure she wasn’t paying attention. She wasn’t, too lost in showing the twins, Brittany and Brianna Buchannan, how to create a password for their pages. Grinning, he tossed the snake at Shannon. It landed on his shoulder, then fell onto his thighs with a hiss.

Shannon glanced down. He jolted to his feet with a scream, patting down his body with frantic hands. The snake hit the ground and slithered to the wall, disappearing beyond the stucco.

Everyone looked at him and laughed.

“How dare you disrupt my class, young man!”

“B-but th-the s-s-snake.”

Ms. Goodwin anchored her hands on her padded hips. “What are you talking about? There is no snake. You may be new, but one thing you need to know. I will not tolerate lies.”

Panting, Shannon swept his eyes across the floor. Mary Ann followed his gaze. There was no hole, no way the snake could have escaped, yet it was gone. She returned her attention to Tucker, who was still at the door. He and Shane were smiling at each other, beaming at a job well done.

SIX

“YOU … HELPED ME.” Aden emerged from the school building to wait outside for Shannon—knowing the dreg may or may not want to walk home with him but willing to chance it. Good as he felt, he might have waited for the devil himself. Perhaps he’d even see Mary Ann in the crowd.

The last class of the day hadn’t yet let out, so for now he was alone. He pressed against the red brick at the side of the structure, partially hidden by shadows.

“Why?” he asked.

You want to attend this school, Eve said, and we want you to be happy. Of course we helped you.

“But you hate Mary Ann.”

I don’t, she said. Like you, I want to spend more time with her. She’s a mystery I’m determined to solve.

Well, I do hate her, Caleb said. Girl freaking shoves me into that black hole with barbed wire on the sides. But you like her, and I love you. The last was spoken in a grumble.

“I love you guys, too.”

He’d thought they would fight him every step of the way, screaming while he tried to take the tests, distracting him. Instead, they’d done something they’d never done before: remained quiet for an extended period of time. He’d read without interruption, solved equations without enduring commentary about how he was doing it wrong, and drew no notice from those around him because he was seemingly talking to himself.

He’d more than passed. He’d excelled.

He was smiling as a girl walked past him, her gaze nearly burning a hole in his forehead. She had the same glittery skin the woman at the supercenter had had, and Aden found himself turning away just in case she wanted to talk. And then talk some more. Thankfully, she kept moving.

And who knows, Elijah said on a sigh. Maybe Mary Ann can help us get out of here and into bodies of our own.

What a difference! Only last week Elijah had experienced that “bad feeling.” Aden wanted to ask what had changed, but didn’t, too afraid the answer might sway his companions yet again.

A bell sounded.

I’m proud of you, my man, Julian said. You’re officially a student now. How’s it feel?

Behind him, footsteps echoed. Even from here, he could hear the slam of lockers and the murmur of voices.

“Feels great. But, uh, maybe we could try the quiet thing more often,” Aden suggested.

All four laughed as if he’d just told a joke about Caleb getting hot.

He stepped into the sunlight, watching the front door. Kids spilled out in a rush.

Julian was the first to calm. You, at least, can move around when you’re bored. We’re stuck. Talking is the only thing we can do. Our only distraction.

“H-hey,” a familiar voice said from behind him.

Aden whipped around, not liking having someone at his back. Shannon stood there, peering at the parking lot rather than Aden. Where had he come from and how had Aden missed him? Then he spied other kids coming out of other doors and realized there was more than one exit.

“Hey,” he replied. Bummer. No way he could watch every door for Mary Ann.

“L-listen,” Shannon said. There was a hard gleam in his eyes. Rough first day? “I know w-we don’t like each other and y-you’ve got no reason to trust m-me, but we’ve only g-got each other h-here. And, well, if you’ll guard m-my back, I’ll g-guard yours.”

His eyes widened with shock.

“So, truce?”

Seriously? He didn’t know if a truce would mean they’d also look out for each other at the ranch, too, but he didn’t care. “Truce,” he said. Honestly, could this day get any better?

“Shannon, you forgot your syllabus.”

Aden recognized the lilting female voice, but it was the surge of needle-sharp wind over his skin, the moans—and then the silence—that told him exactly who approached. Mary Ann. The day could get much better, it seemed.

His gaze quickly found her. Her arm was extended, a piece of paper clutched between her fingers.

Shannon turned. His shoulders immediately hunched, as if he wanted to hide inside himself.

Aden’s heart began slamming against his ribs. Finally. He was with her again.

The sun gleamed behind her, framing her in gold. She tripped over her own feet when she spotted him, her skin leaching of color. Thankfully, she didn’t hit the ground, just slowed her step and lowered her arm.

“Aden?”

“Hello, Mary Ann.” The urge to hug her returned. So did the urge to run. Caleb would have said she was heaven and hell wrapped in the same pretty package. A friend and a foe. Both a hunter and the prey.

Wary, she stopped in front of him. “I didn’t expect to see you again.”

Had she preferred it that way? Her neutral tone gave nothing away. “As of today, I’m a student here.”

“That’s wonder—Your eyes,” she said, blinking up at him. “They’re blue. But I thought they were black. Or rather, lots of colors then black. Not one solid color.”

So. She’d noticed the way they changed each time one of the souls spoke. He fused his top and bottom lashes, blocking the color from her view. “They change with what I wear,” he lied. A lie he used often.

“Oh,” she said, but she didn’t sound convinced.

How could he ever have mistaken her for his brunette? he wondered. Even momentarily? Yes, they both had dark hair and yes, both were pretty, but up close, he could see that Mary Ann was more planes and angles; Vision Girl was more curved. Mary Ann even had a few freckles scattered over her nose, while Vision Girl had none.

“I—I should g-go,” Shannon said to him, acting as if Mary Ann weren’t present.

Mary Ann hugged the paper she held to her chest. Her gaze darted between them. “You two know each other?”

Both he and Shannon nodded.

“Oh.” Fear sparked in her eyes, and she backed up a step.

Was she frightened of him? Why? She hadn’t seemed afraid of him at the coffeehouse.

“You live with … Dan Reeves?” she asked.

Ah. Now he understood. She knew about the ranch, feared the boys inside … and what they’d done to be sent there. He didn’t want to lie to her—again—this girl he so badly wanted to befriend, but he didn’t want to confirm her fears, either. So he ignored the question. “My official first day here is tomorrow. Maybe we have a few classes together.” Hopefully.

“S-see you at the h-house, Aden,” Shannon said, clearly done waiting. He ripped the paper from Mary Ann’s hands.

She gasped as Aden said his goodbyes. “See you, Shannon.”

Shannon walked away without another word.

Aden and Mary Ann stood in silence for several seconds, kids rushing around them, brushing their shoulders, eager to reach the buses or their rides.

“He’s shy,” Aden said to excuse the dreg.

“I noticed.” Mary Ann squared her shoulders and her pretty features glazed with determination. “Look, I’ve felt bad for the past week about the way I treated you at Holy Grounds. I’ve wanted to apologize over and over again.”

“You don’t have to apologize to me,” he assured her. She might have been in a hurry to ditch him that day, but she hadn’t called him a freak or made him feel like one. In his world, that was, like, the royal treatment.

“I do,” she insisted. “I was rude. I would have called, but I didn’t have your number.”

“Seriously, no worries. I would have called you eventually.” He stared down at his feet, realized what he was doing, and forced himself to straighten. “I just, well, I was sick. I spent six days in bed.”

Sympathy softened the angle of her mouth. “I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks.” He smiled over at her. This was the longest conversation he’d ever had with someone. Well, without being interrupted by his companions or losing track of what was being said. He never wanted it to end. “Maybe we could meet here tomorrow and you could show me around.”

Mary Ann hooked a lock of hair behind her ear, cheeks suddenly blooming with red. “I, uh, well …”

Had he pushed for too much too soon? Had he made her uncomfortable again? Suddenly, he hated not being able to talk to Eve. He needed advice. Needed to know the best way to befriend a girl, the right things to say.

In the end, he opted for the truth. “I’m not trying to score or anything, I swear. Besides Shannon, you’re the only person I know at this school and I could really use a friend.”

“A friend.” She chewed on her bottom lip.

“Only a friend,” he said, and he meant it. Vision Girl was the only one he was looking to date.

The chewing continued as she shifted from one foot to the other. “I have to tell you something, but I’m afraid it will hurt your feelings. And you may not want to be my friend once you know.”

That sounded bad. Really bad. His stomach twisted into a thousand knots. “Tell me anyway. Please.” He could take it. Whatever it was. Maybe.

“I feel … strange when I’m with you.” The color returned to her cheeks. “God, that sounds even worse out loud.”

He wondered … was it possible? Did she feel the wind and the sickness too? “Strange how?”

“I don’t know. Like I’m being pummeled by a freak wind and my skin is crawling, and I know that’s a horrible thing to say, and I’m so sorry. I really am. But then when that sensation finally fades, I have the weirdest desire to first hug you like you’re my brother or something and then—”

“Run,” he finished for her. It was possible. They had the same reaction to each other.

Her eyes widened. “Yes!”

“I feel the same way.”

“You do?” she asked, relief and confusion giving way to insult. Her mouth curled into the cutest grimace.

He nodded, unable to stop his grin.

“What do you think it means?”

Both attracted and repelled, he thought. Like the magnets he’d played with as a child. One side possessed a positive pole. One side possessed a negative pole. When two different sides were pressed together, they bonded. When two like sides were pressed together, they created pressure, repelling each other. Were they like magnets?

And if so, did that mean she was like him? Or his opposite?

He studied her more intently. Did she know anything about the supernatural? If she didn’t, and he started babbling about raising the dead and trapped souls, she would call him a freak. He would ruin his chances with her.

“I have to get home,” he said, opting for escape. Hopefully, he would have figured this out by morning. “I’m on curfew, but I would love to talk to you tomorrow and—”

“Mary Ann,” a boy suddenly called. Footsteps clomped, then an arm was wrapping around her waist. The owner of that arm was wide and as solid as a boulder. “Who you talking to, babe?”

She closed her eyes for a moment and pushed out a firm breath. “Tucker, this is Aden. One of the new students and my … friend. Aden, this is Tucker. My boyfriend.”

Friend. She’d called Aden a friend. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling. “Nice to meet you, Tucker.”

Tucker’s iron-gray gaze flicked to Aden’s shirt and the insulting words scribbled there. He chuckled. “Cute.”

Aden lost his grin. He’d been flying so high all day—passing tests, making truces and friends—he’d forgotten about the T-shirt. “Thanks.”

“Why don’t you beat feet and join your friend S-Stutter.” It was a command, not a question. “Mary Ann and I have things to discuss.”

Message received. He and Tucker would not be friends. That was fine with him. Only person he cared about right now was Mary Ann. Well, and Vision Girl, but she wasn’t here. Where was she? What was she doing?

“See you around, Mary Ann,” he said.

She smiled, and it was warm and genuine. “I’ll meet you here in the morning and show you around.”

A muscle ticked under Tucker’s eye. “I’m sure he’s busy. Isn’t that right, Crazy?”

Aden knew his next words would define the type of hate-filled relationship he and Tucker would have. If he agreed, Tucker would feel superior, assume Aden was properly intimidated and taunt him for his weakness. If he didn’t, Tucker would view him as a competitor for Mary Ann’s attention and attack every chance he got.

He couldn’t afford another enemy, but he raised his chin, refusing to back down. “I’m not busy at all. I’ll see you in the morning, Mary Ann.” He nodded to them both and ambled away as if he hadn’t a care.

MARY ANN WALKED TUCKER to the football field for practice, calmly but firmly explaining that calling people names like “Crazy” and “Stutter” was how they developed complexes and why they later needed therapy.

“You should thank me for the future business, since you want to be a shrink,” he said, rounding on her.

She was so shocked by his response, she stood with her mouth hanging open. He’d never talked to her so sarcastically.

His eyes narrowed. “Well, I’m waiting.”

“Waiting for what?”

“First, for that thank-you I mentioned. Then you need to tell me you won’t see that guy again. I don’t like him and I don’t like the way he was looking at you. And if he ever does it again, I will knock his teeth right out of his mouth.”

The menace radiating off him was like needle pricks in her skin. She actually found herself backing up. What was wrong with him? Why was he acting this way? “You’ll stay away from him, Tucker. Do you hear me? I don’t want you hurting him. And just so you know, I’ll be friends with whoever I want. If you don’t like it, you can … we can … “

“You are not breaking up with me,” he growled, crossing his arms over his chest. “I won’t allow it.”

That hadn’t been on her mind, but she suddenly found herself contemplating the idea. The Tucker standing in front of her was not the Tucker she knew. This Tucker wasn’t making her feel pretty or special; this Tucker, with his scowl and his threats, was alarming her.

This was the Tucker who had somehow helped throw a snake at Shannon—which she still needed to question him about. This was someone who had laughed at another person’s fear. This was a Tucker she didn’t like.

“You can’t stop me if that’s what I decide,” she said.

To her surprise, his expression immediately softened. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have butted in like that. I just want you safe. Can you blame me for that?” Oh, so gently, he reached out and traced a fingertip along her cheek.

She moved away from his touch. “Look, I—” she began, but one of the football players called for his help.

Oblivious to the tension still rolling through her, Tucker kissed the cheek he’d just caressed. “We’ll talk tomorrow, all right?” He didn’t wait for her reply but rushed off.

Reeling, she turned and headed toward the parking lot. What was she going to do with that boy? The way he’d treated Shannon and then Aden, and then callously excused his behavior … the way he’d expected her to thank him … she ground her teeth together. Yeah, he’d apologized. But had he meant it?

Penny’s Mustang whipped around the corner just as Mary Ann stepped from the curb. There went her ride. She could call her dad and wait for him to come get her. She could walk home alone—and perhaps be a tasty bit of wolf bait—or she could chase Aden down.

“Aden,” she called as she rushed forward. She couldn’t see him, but she knew he couldn’t have gotten far.

The sleek black wolf, taller than she remembered, bigger than she remembered, jumped out in front of her the moment she passed the line of trees that blocked off the school. She screamed, hand fluttering over her heart.

He gave an irritated growl, his green eyes bright. Settle down. I won’t hurt you.

The word yet hung in the air, unsaid but palpable.

Though the voice came from in front of her, she whipped around, expecting to see someone behind her. But no, she and the wolf were alone. “Who said that?” The words trembled from her.

As I happen to be the only one around, I think you’re safe in assuming that I did.

This time, the words came from behind her. Once more, she faced the wolf. No one was standing beside him. “This isn’t funny,” she said, a little more substance to the words now. Her gaze tripped left, right. Breath sawed in and out of her throat. Hot. Too hot, burning. “Who’s there?”

I love being ignored, I really do. Look, I’m big, I’m black. I’m right in front of you.

She scanned the bright emerald foliage around her. There was no sign of life. “I told you. This isn’t funny.”

You’re wasting time searching for someone else, little girl.

Again her attention fell to the wolf and she laughed without humor. “You can’t be talking to me. You just can’t. You’re a … you are … you’re not human.”

Smart of you to notice. You’re right about the other thing, too. I’m not talking. Out loud.

No, he wasn’t. His harsh voice was echoing inside her mind, she realized, dazed. “This is ridiculous. Impossible.”

One day you’ll laugh about what you just said, because baby, I’m about to open your eyes to a whole new world. Werewolves are just the beginning.

“Shut up!” Mary Ann rubbed her temples. More than ridiculous, this was insane. Utterly insane. Or rather, she was insane. This had to be a hallucination. Nothing else explained it. A wolf—or rather, a werewolf—who had walked her to school and clearly waited for her. A werewolf who was speaking directly into her mind.

What would her father say?

She thought she knew the answer. That she’d been working too hard, not resting enough, never enjoying herself, and this was her mind’s way of taking a vacation. He’d tried to warn her this morning, in fact.

What if, now that she’d fallen over the edge, she needed medication? The thought scared her, and she laughed without humor. She didn’t want this kind of breakdown in her medical files; most likely, it would haunt her for the rest of her life, ruining her chances of landing the internship she wanted. Who would trust her to handle their problems when she couldn’t handle her own?

Bye-bye fifteen-year plan.

But maybe, just maybe, this is real, she told herself, part of her clinging to the hope. There was only one way to find out.

Mary Ann inched forward and stopped before she bumped into the creature’s nose. “There’s a difference between a wolf and a werewolf?” she babbled to break the silence. Do it. Just do it. Gulping, she lifted her arm.

Of course there is. One is merely an animal, the other is capable of being a man. Now, what are you doing?

Though she’d expected him to speak this time, she was still surprised and jerked away with a yelp. If she was wrong, if he was more than a hallucination, he could bite her. Maim her. Kill her. Don’t chicken out now.

“Don’t you already know what I’m doing? Can’t you read my mind? I mean, you can talk inside it.” A figment of her imagination would be able to read her mind, right?

No, I can’t read thoughts. But I can see auras, the colors around you. Those colors tell me what you are feeling, making it easy to guess what you’re thinking. But right now your colors are so jumbled I can’t see anything.

“Well, I plan on touching you. If you’ll just hold still, please.” Great, now she was issuing orders, expecting him to understand. Could this be a joke? Was someone filming this, intending to laugh about her gullibility later? Surely not. No way could someone fake projecting a voice into her head. “If you bite me, I’ll … I’ll …”

He actually rolled his eyes. You’ll what? Bite me back? With those puny teeth?

There wasn’t a reply that would intimidate so irreverent a beast, so she remained quiet. And he remained in place, not even blinking as she reached out again, her index finger ready to poke. She was trembling and hesitant. Finally, skin met fur. Soft, silky fur.

“You’re real,” she gasped out. This was no hallucination. He was real, and he was freaking talking inside her mind, reading her aura. How were those things possible? Even more unbelievable, he claimed he was a werewolf, capable of changing into a human. That was … that was … Dear Lord.

A moan escaped him. Scratch behind my ear.

Still too dazed to process what was going on, she automatically pressed deeper, harder, massaging him.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.