Chosen - Stained Series_Book 3 - Ella James

CHOSEN Stained Series Book Three

By Ella James

Copyright © 2012 by Ella James All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the author. This book is a work of fiction. Any names, places, characters, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination and are purely fictitious. Any resemblances to any persons, living or dead, are completely coincidental. PLEASE DO NOT PIRATE THIS BOOK. PIRACY SUCKS.

PROLOGUE 200 YEARS AGO

His aunt would say that if you watched the sky when it was heavy with a storm, you could sometimes see, amidst the clouds, the angels’ robes. It was an old woman’s tale. He knew it was, for he had stared for many hours at the vast ceiling that stretched over Ben Lawers—and it was mostly dim with clouds. He had never seen an angel’s robe or wing. Seldom did he see or hear a bird. The peak was a lofty, cloud-wreathed, snow-heaped thing. The only sound so near the top was a battering wind, the only movement that of sheep, some distance below, skittering over the tough, damp grass and sometimes looking up at him, accusing

him of intruding on their peace. Intruder he was, but he had no place else to go. He held a sad sort of court below a row of pointed boulders—just the snow and the stones and what few birds came. For how long it had been, he didna know. Time went by like in a dream—too fast and slow at once; nothing helped to mark its passage but the fluffy, white dots, scurrying over the rock-strewn slopes. Quite far below and long away there was his aunt and uncle’s cottage. Near the shoreline of Loch Tay, it was a pleasant place and altogether barred to him—like the rest of Killin and Perthshire and all o’ everything really. He did not want to think of how far word would spread, but even if he could find a place in Scotland where his deeds were not known, he would still be spotted. Marked as different. Seen for what he

was. He had gone the way of his father—his body changing from a lad’s overnight, his instincts turning to cruelty, his eyes now darker than any lad his age. So quickly, they thought me a— No. It wouldna do to say the word, not just yet, perhaps never. He dinna want the trembling it brought or the urge to tumble down the slopes. He had done that not just once but time and time o’er with no success. One cool and misty morn, he looked down at his chest and wondered how long it would take him to expire from loss o’ meal. His mum had told him once that if he didn’t eat his greens he would be gone in a fortnight; something about the bones of his chest caving to scurvy. But it was a mistake to think about any part o’

his body, so wicked was what they had done— and what he’d done to them. He scooted back against the stone he had taken for his seat; it was a tall, straight, noble sort o’ rock, arranged below a curved, half-circle ledge that jutted from a snow-banked cliff. It kept the weather out o’ his eyes and off his shoulders, which were trembling. The wounds had healed, but he could feel the knives pierce. The clubs smash. He trembled all over, a thing of dread, and shut his eyes and, too late, remembered that he saw the faces then, so best to look out at the hills —and there were many hills below. The top o’ Ben Lawers was white with snow that trailed down the peak in lines like girls’ ribbon, but being there atop it, it appeared as snowy patch and a grassy patchy and a snowy, and so on until he lost track of it. The peaks

around were much the same, all miniatures of the great one called Ben Nevis. He looked down at the eternity of hill land below and kept his thoughts on the sheep. A strong wind battered his shoulders and his neck as he curled small into himself. Fire burned inside him at the thought of being banished here, alone and in his unfamiliar form. This made it hard to draw a breath but he didn’t weep. That part of him had passed on to Tír na nÓg, with all the things other boys would have felt—all except his skittishness, which showed at odd moments. And otherwise, mere want: He wanted to be gone, but he couldna make it so. The snow was coming brisk and hard when he looked up a’ the sky and found it pale. He used the pale to make his mind pale, too. So pale and void. The shaking stopped. He got a breath,

looked around to find the snow blanketing everything; but he could scarcely feel the cold. Quite durable, this hated form. He dug his way out and hoisted himself up and stood there in a sea of white. He sent his gaze up to the sky. The clouds drifted, thin and gray, and like a fool he looked for wings. Or something else. Sometimes, when he was trying to end himself, he heard a voice inside his ear. “Somairhle Mochridhe…” It laughed. One time in particular, when he crashed down the slope, landed on his neck and dinna die: “You won’t die that easy. You’re marked for great things.” It was a mocking promise. Another time, the voice had offered to escort him to his father, but he had covered his ears with his hands and willed the voice away.

But inside his chest he had that feeling once again. That cold, sick, frightened feeling that accompanied the voice. A sense of terror, overpowering terror, at what he was. It was at that moment it appeared: a shape in the cloud. A wing. Heart thundering, he crouched close to the snowy ground, terrified now by the judgment descending upon him: darkness, looming ever closer—until at last he saw it fully and it came to rest beside him on the slope. The creature opened its mouth, speaking a tongue he’d never heard, its red eyes seeming to glow, and all the boy could think was Oidhche Shamhna. The creature in front of him was not a spirit sneaked in through the veil, but looked like Death himself. Then Death stretched its onyx wings and spoke in English.

“What are you?” Its voice was deep and pounding. “How have you come to be?” The boy cowered, terrified even after all the times he’d tried to die. Now Death had come, and he couldn’t face it. Death stood over him, a large crimson blade in its hands. The boy stared at the blade as Death considered him, and then suddenly the knife was gone. The boy looked into Death’s face, and Death was smiling. “You are mine,” it said. “From this day forward, I shall call you Cayuzul. I will teach you everything you need to know.”

CHAPTER ONE Cayne had gone insane. Militant, giving looks out of the corner of his crazy eyes, enforcing the rules harshly if necessary, you better obey me woman kind of crazy. For example: Since they’d landed at Zurich Airport, Julia had been forced to consume nearly every food known to Switzerland. Switzerland? Make that Europe. The latest eat-or-die item was something called tirggel. It looked kind of like shortbread, tasted less sweet, and according to Carlin, was ‘cultural’. “People ate these in centuries past,” she

explained, her Spanish accent causing the ‘r’ to roll. “They were made to celebrate the Christ child’s birth.” Julia cut her eyes at Carlin, then at Cayne. Well, she couldn’t argue with that. She could, however, bite the head off her horse-shaped tirggel. So she did. In fact, she finished her plate, consuming one archer-looking tirggel and two more horses before Cayne looked at Edan, who winked indiscreetly and pushed his café chair back, stood on his long legs, and sauntered to the counter, dragging women’s gazes in his wake. Julia dropped her head into her hand, the other hand moving to cover her churning stomach. “No way. I’m not eating another bite.” Cayne shot her a look that started out widegreen-eyes innocent and quickly turned goodole-fashioned-Cayne-style shrewd.

His left brow arched, and his face tipped down toward her. “You haven’t had the Zürcher Geschnetzeltes,” he murmured, a touch of a Scottish burr in his quiet tone. “It’s very good here.” “I’ve had the Zürcher Geschnetzeltes in three other cafés! And how do you know it’s good? You wouldn’t know whipped cream from sour.” He arched that damned brow again and leaned his dark head toward the wall of glass behind him —sparkling windows overlooking the secondstory railing and, below that, a courtyard where people were…ugh…for some reason…well, skinny-dipping. Julia saw a woman’s butt as she did a dramatic jump into the fountain, and Cayne gave another pointed nod at the glass, where there was…a sticker? Okay, some kind of badge? Well, she saw a spelled-out number on it.

Number One? She didn’t even know. Dang German. Definitely not something they’d seen fit to teach her in Memphis City Schools. “It means this café has the best Zürcher Geschnetzeltes in Zurich.” He had the nerve to look smug. Edan returned with a basket full of veal and mushrooms, topped with a dreadfully familiar creamy sauce, plus two baskets of miscellaneous chocolate treats for his gluttonous self, and Julia opened her mouth to tell Cayne I’m NOT too thin and my head feels FINE. Then the café’s door swished open, a chirpy little bell rang, and in glided Drew and Meredith, snow-speckled and looking like extras from some kind of spy movie. Meredith wore a gray wool trench coat that reached her ankles, and Drew had on a seal-

skin-sleek black coat that started with —tsk, tsk! —a turtleneck, and ended at the tops of his loafers, reminding Julia of a judge’s robe. For a second she allowed herself to appreciate the humor in the situation: their ridiculous jackets, bought at some kind of Zurich bargain clothes store, and their super-serious faces. Then Meredith’s big, dark eyes met Julia’s, and humor was the last thing on her mind. Julia wrapped her own cozy sweater cloak around herself and leaned against Cayne’s hand, which was suddenly stroking her back. She could feel the tension in his body, just through his fingers. Those same fingers stroking her so gently could produce a Nephilim blood dagger in a millisecond. Which was, for once, maybe a good thing. Because as Drew half-squatted beside the table and put his hands on his knees, Julia noticed

his trembling fingers, and her stomach clenched with ice cold fear. Meredith put her hand on Drew’s shoulder, squeezing—and not in a gentle way. She glared down at him, then looked around the table. “Guys, I think we should go now. They’re here. For sure.” The words made Julia’s entire body go numb. Made her brain stop thinking, so she simply watched the scene before her unfold. Drew glanced up at Meredith, dark skin, dark eyes, dark hair contrasting sharply with his pearly teeth, bared through scowling lips. “It’s best to let them pass,” he hissed. Meredith dropped down on her heels, squatting beside Drew so she could hiss into his ear. “There’s a back door.” Carlin leaned forward, deceptively angelic in a

white suede coat, her long, brown curls trailing down her back, her hazel eyes widening. “How many?” “We saw three of them,” Mer said, “and Adam was definitely one of them.” The table fell silent, and Julia looked at all the faces. Cayne’s was stern; Edan’s was comically oh-noes (and therefore not really very serious); Carlin’s had bleached white. “Adam?” she whispered. Mer nodded. “We got close enough for me to catch some of their feelings. They were very ‘hunter’-ish,” she said, with air-quotes that caused her sparkly nails to glint. And at that, Cayne stood, tugging Julia with him. He dropped a casual kiss on her forehead and wrapped his arm more tightly around her, as if they were getting ready to leave. He said

something loud and German. The he nodded down at the table. In soft English, he said, “The back door, just past the restrooms, opens to a hallway. If we go one or two at a time, we can all exit that way. It comes out near a hotel. We can rent another van and go from there.” Julia blinked, mainly because she wasn’t sure she’d ever heard Cayne say quite so many words at once. Edan pushed out of his seat, wiping a hand back through his lustrous caramel-colored locks. “I won’t be seen,” he said. “I’ll leave through the entrance and meet you in front of the hotel with a van.” He said something in German (one of the words sounded like ‘hotel’), and Cayne hesitated before nodding. For a long second, Carlin, Drew, and Meredith watched Edan go—and so did Julia.

The guy was like that: magnetic. A weird kind of magnetic—one that accompanied a nervous, nauseated, dementors-are-in-the-building feeling. But still magnetic. It didn’t hurt that his long, lean body was…well, it was something for other, single girls (like Carlin) to gawk at. Julia locked her eyes onto the Zürcher Geschnetzeltes and let Cayne pull her closer to his chest. “Julia and I go first. We’ll wait for you in the hallway. Carlin and Meredith, walk toward the women’s room in a minute. Drew, place an order, and when they turn to give it to the chef, you follow.” Drew’s eyes were uncharacteristically sharp. “You’re not our leader.” “Neither are you,” Meredith snapped. “Sounds good,” she told Cayne. “We’ll be right behind you.”

As Julia and Cayne turned, Julia saw the staff’s eyes follow them and knew Cayne had been right. They needed an exit plan, because an entire table of people flocking to ‘the bathroom’ at one time was bound to draw the staff’s suspicions. Which would be bad if Adam and his crew turned up with questions. Cayne must have been one move ahead of her, because rather than simply walk toward the hallway, he pushed her gently into the wall at the back of the main room, put his hot mouth on her neck, and ground his body into hers. As Julia’s pulse pounded, lightning-fast and heady, he clutched her hair and swept her boneless body through the doorway, moving in the direction of escape.

CHAPTER TWO For the past five days, every time the subject of The One arose, Julia would chant inside her head: It’s from “The Matrix”. It’s from “The Matrix”. It isn’t real. It isn’t real. Real or not, she wasn’t accepting that she was The One. Edan said her headache had been caused by The Three? Edan also had a thing for chamber music and Angeline Jolie. What did Edan know? But it was difficult to pretend that Edan was wrong about the whole thing when she did things like sprint down the service hall with Cayne, whose eyes darted back and forth, wary and

wide. The worry on his handsome face was palpable, filling the hallway, climbing inside of her, pushing the air out of her. She’d felt that primal urgency before—too many times since she’d seen Samyaza hovering in the smoke above her house in Memphis. It was fight or flight, and as her All-Stars pounded the cement floor, she realized they were fleeing. Because Cayne couldn’t take Adam and whoever else? No way. Because an encounter with them was too risky. For her. Why else were Adam and Co. here, she asked herself as she ran. Not for Cayne. Maybe for Drew, Meredith, and Carlin, too; they were all Candidates. But she was the only one who’d passed out from a mysterious headache. And the fear sweat popping up all over her body, the churning in her gut that was more than a feeling—

well, shouldn’t she listen to it? Their pursuers had traveled all this way after a devastating attack that killed their friends and destroyed the glass pyramid for a reason: The One. The truth of it sliced through her. The sound of strained huffing snapped her head around and tightened Cayne’s grip on her hand, but it was only Meredith and Carlin. Mer’s Swiss trench coat and Carlin’s bouncing curls brought a movie-like quality to the scene, but Julia couldn’t deny the reality of their situation anymore. Regardless of whether she was actually The One, the Chosen thought she was. And if they got the chance, they would take her. “Drew coming?” Cayne’s words were sharp and fast as they neared the glass door. Shops were on the other side, hopefully busy.

“Yep,” Meredith puffed. “Right back there.” “How will we find Edan?” Carlin asked. Julia was surprised to hear the waver in her voice. “He’ll park right in front of the hotel,” Cayne said, slowing as they reached the door at the hall’s end. He stepped directly in front of Julia, peered out a small, snow-dusted window at the crowd of coat-clad, bag-laden shoppers, and cracked the door open. “That’s our place,” he said, pointing to a dramatic-looking hotel with pillars, columns, and arched windows—a neo-classical building, if Julia remembered correctly from her art class. It was across the street and down, maybe 200 yards away. Cayne’s gaze flew over Julia’s shoulder before she even heard Drew approaching; as he neared, she heard him huffing, holding his side like he

hadn’t taken PhysEd a day in his preppy boy life. Drew’s face was serious and unhappy as he glanced out at the icy street. “This is a risk,” he warned. “So is staying,” Meredith said. Drew shrugged. “Do what you want,” he said, his eyes on Cayne. “We’ll go,” Cayne said simply; he’d gotten good at hiding his annoyance with Drew, if he felt any. “If they get too close, I’ll fly with Julia. I won’t go far. Just enough to lead them past you. Assuming they are actually after her.” His eyes flicked to Julia’s, where they softened a fraction. “That’s the worst case scenario,” he told her gently. He squeezed her hand, and they filed through the door, out into the flurry of snowflakes, the noise of the crowd and the never-ceasing motion

of the city more menacing now that they had seen the other Chosen. What was so horrifying about Adam, Julia wondered as Cayne led her briskly past two women wearing wooly scarves, around a child making a fussy face, beside a man tossing back an espresso. Meredith was going to tell her, back in the dish room at the compound, but then he’d shown up. Could he read minds? Or tell when someone was thinking about him? Someone shrieked, and Julia nearly came out of her sweaty skin. She clutched Cayne’s arm, so not smooth, and glanced over her shoulder, past Mer, Carlin, and Drew, to where a woman was being tickled by her boyfriend. She shrieked again, and Julia flinched as she turned back around. “We’re doing fine,” Cayne murmured near her

hair. Her gaze swept the street, the lanes crowded with snow-topped buses and trolleys and taxis; she combed the damp brick sidewalk, searching for Adam’s black hair, for an angry aura. Yikes —she shouldn’t be looking at auras. Julia put her hand over her heart and tried to slow her racing pulse. She focused on the hotel’s hunter green pavilion, sheltering a half-circle driveway. Almost there. The massive, stately building was swarming with staff; they wore green and gold livery and darted about a row of taxis, limousines, and compact cars, shuffling luggage onto carts, helping guests out of their cars, taking keys for valet parking. Julia breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth as she checked every face she

saw. What if one of those was Adam’s? What if he somehow managed to capture her? When they reached the grassy edge of the hotel’s lawn, about ten yards from the pavilion, the crowd thickened and Cayne’s arm went around her waist. “Keep your eyes open for Edan, in a van.” “Okay,” she whispered. Then Meredith gasped, and Julia whirled to find Carlin levitating a foot off the ground. She was waving her arms in tiny circles like a baby bird that hadn’t learned how to fly, and her eyes were wide and panicked. Drew grabbed her shoulders and pushed her down, but it looked like someone trying to hold a float underwater. Then Mer glanced out toward the street, and her face went ashen. Before Julia could see what was going on, Cayne swept her

up and dashed toward the line of parked cars, now just a stone’s throw in front of them. Near the far end of the line, Edan was hanging out the driver’s side window of a narrow van, waving them forward. Julia wasn’t getting in it without her friends. She lifted her head, straining to look over Cayne’s shoulder, and saw that a scuffle had broken out on the sidewalk behind them. One of the hotel staff was waving his arms around, trying to prevent someone from pushing themselves under the pavilion— Holy shit. Dizzy! She backhanded the lanky hotel staffer with surprising strength, and Adam and Thierry fanned out behind her, scanning the crowd. Almost immediately they spotted Carlin, a heap of curly brown hair and billowing white suede floating above the sidewalk—probably suffering from the Dizzy treatment.

Adam’s gaze passed over Dizzy. He stepped toward Julia and Cayne, and Julia’s stomach flipped. His face was a mask of fury as he stretched out his arm…and suddenly Drew was there, and he was rushing Cayne, leaping at Julia, and then just as suddenly he was crumpling to the ground. Holy crap, he dropped like a freakin’ fly! That was Julia’s last coherent thought before everything seemed to get stuck on fast-forward. Cayne lunged to the right, toward the hotel and away from Dizzy and Adam, and Meredith and Carlin’s voices rose behind them in a cacophony of panic. Julia twisted in Cayne’s grasp. “No, Cayne! TURN AROUND!” But he tightened his grip on her, using his next few steps to cover more distance before swinging

back toward Edan’s van, which was maneuvering between two cars to get in the very front of the line, where he could speed away. Out of nowhere came Dizzy’s power, an egg scrambler in Julia’s sober brain, and everything went topsy turvy. Her body stiffened then sagged as she fought against the invasion. She felt Cayne’s arms shifting her weight and sensed that he was still running. The screeching of tires sliced through a confetti of colors, textures, and dimensions, and Julia heard Meredith’s cry at the same moment she inhaled what tasted like a mouthful of exhaust. Then—thank Jesus—Edan’s low voice. From behind a waving curtain of what looked like black velvet: “Edan…” It was Meredith, and she sounded ill. Julia heard her huff, then saw a

bleary white form staggering across a sky of grass. “EDAN, GO GET DREW!” What was wrong with Drew? Julia couldn’t remember. “This way…” That was Edan, sounding uncharacteristically gruff. “Into the van, Carlin. And shut the door.” In a heartbeat, Julia’s head and her senses were clear again. She saw a flash of the van’s glossy black exterior before Cayne hoisted her inside, pulling her on top of his hard lap. He wrapped his arms around her, and Julia saw Meredith in the driver’s seat. “Have your foot on the pedal,” Cayne said tightly. “Will do, Cap’n.” Mer banged on the wheel, looking in the rear-view. “Move, Edan, move! Damnit!”

Julia turned around to see if she could spot Edan through the back window, but her view was blocked by Carlin, who was still levitating. She sat cross-legged a few inches above her chair—shaking and pale and not at all her usual feisty Carlin self. “Finally!” Julia’s eyes flicked to Meredith, and back to the rear window in time to see Edan dashing around the van, carrying huge, limp Drew over his shoulder. Still holding Julia, Cayne leaned forward and opened the front passenger’s door; Edan was climbing inside with Drew when a familiar, sharp-featured face appeared through the glass to Julia’s left: Thierry! Carlin shrieked and Meredith hit the gas— which would have made a grand getaway except that a battered, blood-stained Dizzy had

appeared in the street in front of them. Meredith plowed over her, the big bump below the tires making Julia’s stomach roil. In Edan’s lap, Drew stirred. “We see them again,” he whispered hoarsely, “by…some water.” “Water?” Carlin, still hovering, with her eyes shut, made a noise of disgust and muttered something in Spanish. “Drew, this whole town is water. That doesn’t help at all!” * The beautiful buildings of Zurich sailed by like Tetris pieces gliding too quickly toward a pile-up. The four seats in the back of the van were arranged in a square, creating an around-thecampfire effect; Cayne helped Julia to the seat against the driver’s, giving her a view out the back, which she wanted.

He was overly fussy, even buckling her in, but she didn’t mind. “Do you think I KILLED her?” Julia turned, a little dizzily, to find Meredith with one hand tugging at her straight, black hair, and the other one driving like an escaped convict. “No,” Drew said. “I think that bitch has nine lives.” “What if she doesn’t?” “Then you might have,” Edan said. “Don’t be a dick,” Drew growled. Edan waved, like it was nothing. “You’re welcome, by the way. I was pretty amazing. And you’re not exactly light.” More arguing. Julia was too overwhelmed to follow. The other Chosen really were there, and they really were after her. She shut her eyes and clenched her teeth and let the voices rise around

her. I hate her but I never wish death on… Like, The Three’s great-great-granddaughter? Would The Three be mad?! …What about this van …Off a politician’s chauffeur …We can always dream. …And rescue! Edan did save you… I couldn’t get off the ground for… Reset the GPS? …Wings were out only for a second. …Quiet, people. Shut your traps. That was Meredith. “Julia, are you okay?” She sounded urgent. Julia made an effort to respond appropriately. “I’m fine. Just like everybody else.” She couldn’t see Meredith’s face, but Carlin, who had climbed into shot gun at some point, was leaning into the back, and hers looked skeptical. “Are you sure? You don’t look so good.”

“I’m sure.” …That if they didn’t stop talking to her, she was going to combust. She forced herself to meet Cayne’s eyes; she’d planned to give him a reassuring smile, but when their gazes locked, his eyes were filled with such concern, she didn’t have the heart to be disingenuous. She pressed her lips together and thought about how much she loved him. He bumped her All-Star with the tip of his boot and leaned forward to cover her with the big, green military jacket he’d scored at the thrift. People talked some more. There were details of the run-in at the hotel, and she tried to piece them together into a step-by-step account, but her brain just wasn’t with it. Instead she focused on making eye contact and taking deep breaths and following the conversation superficially. “I hope you got her! She was a bitch,” Carlin

was saying to Meredith. Julia wished she was less zoned, because she wanted to console Meredith, who sounded totally miserable. “The police are probably looking for us. I’m a murderer.” “Dizzy was a murderer,” Carlin said. “What you did was self-defense.” “You protected Julia,” Cayne told Meredith, and Julia was proud of him for trying to make her feel better. To Edan, he said, “We need a new car. The police are most likely looking for this one.” Meredith moaned, and Julia wanted to slap her own forehead. “I can make that happen,” Edan said. “How exactly? How do you do it without an imprint?” Drew asked, referring to the shadow of energy the rest of them would leave if they used

their gifts; Edan had said he didn’t leave one. “And what about the people whose cars we take?” Edan, sitting across from Drew, patted his knee. “No good deed goes unpunished.” Drew’s cheeks seemed to maybe blush; his skin was so dark, Julia couldn’t tell for sure, but she wouldn’t put it past Edan to bother Drew on purpose, the man whore. “How exactly do you do it?” Drew asked again. Julia winced, already penciling in a perverse answer, but Edan didn’t go there—for once. “Same way Cayne does things,” he said smoothly. “Except I don’t leave a trace. As the only one of my kind, my ‘shadow’ is unique. I’ve been told that only others like me can track it.” Edan shook his head sadly, but in a way that didn’t really seem sad. “But I’m the only one…

alive right now.” “That’s so horrible,” Carlin said. “Meredith, we’ve lost them,” Cayne said, looking at Julia and clearly not following the conversation. “Pull over when you can.” Julia watched Cayne in return as Meredith turned off the freeway—‘the A51’, according to Carlin—and onto a smaller road, which deadended at a cafe on the water. Julia wanted to scream “Are you kidding me!”, but she remembered that, as Carlin had pointed out, there was water everywhere; they couldn’t really avoid it just because of Drew’s premonition. Edan took the keys from Meredith and got out, and Julia wondered if they were safe just sitting there. Cayne reached out and stroked her knee.

No one said anything, and each second the tension in the car seemed to double. Fortunately Edan pulled up beside them within seconds, driving the same model van, but this one painted white. “Carlin, could you re-set the GPS?” Meredith asked after they all piled in. “Certainly.” “Wait—where are we going? Specifically,” Drew said. In Julia’s still-swimming head, everything seemed to have an echo, but Drew’s English accent was the worst. “We decided on St. Moritz,” Meredith said, back on the A51 and weaving through traffic. On the way to the airport, right after the attack on the Chosen compound, Mer had filled everyone in on the resort that was supposedly a

haven for ‘ex-pat’ Chosen. She’d claimed that Monte had told her a bunch of details about the place and the people—“But that was like a year ago. I don’t really remember much—except that there’s a tiger on the resort’s helicopter landing pad. Or maybe it was a lion.” “This sounds like something you invented,” Drew had said. He said it again this go ’round. “You don’t even remember who told Monte those things! How are we to know this is even remotely reliable?” “Because it is,” Mer insisted. “He didn’t tell me who told him because I never asked.” “Therefore it still sounds like something you made up.” “Why do you think I’ve been studying German for the last year, dummkopf!”

“I don’t know,” Drew said, still skeptical. “He said it was a popular resort town on the border with Italy. And that it had a tiger on the helicopter landing pad,” Mer reiterated. They continued to bicker until Carlin settled the argument. “This is the only lead we have. We’re going and we will check it out and move on if it isn’t right.” St. Mortiz was in the Graubünden region, where rich people liked to hang. Carlin pulled a fold-out map out of her coat pocket and started sharing St. Moritz facts; to Julia’s dismay, there was a lake there, too. After Carlin folded the map back up, silence fell over them, and Julia used the moment to try to shake the spacey fugue that seemed to have overtaken her mind. Out of nowhere, she remembered Harry’s super-secret 30th

anniversary surprise trip for Suzanne. He’d planned a two-week tour of Europe, with stops in Italy, France, Germany, and yes, Switzerland. He’d let Julia in on his secret just a few months before Samyaza ruined her life—and ended theirs. Harry’d had a secret savings account for three years, putting away money. Just two more… Drew cleared his throat. “So. They’re really here.” “Oh, yes,” Carlin said. “And they sent the best.” “For Julia,” Edan said, arching a brow at her. “Well they’re not getting her,” Mer snapped. “No. They’re not.” Cayne leaned forward and put his hand on Julia’s knee. Julia wished she could disappear. Cayne’s eyes were on her, worried and loving and she

didn’t want it. She didn’t want anything to be happening at all. Behind her, in the two front seats, Meredith and Carlin started talking softly—so softly Julia could hardly hear them, but she definitely caught the name “Adam” and the word “immobilized” before her apathy bubbled into temper. She turned around toward the front, feeling uncharacteristically angry. “You know, there are other people back here, too. Other people in the same situation you two are. And at least one of them doesn’t know anything about being immobilized.” The word caught in Julia’s throat as she imagined herself unable to move, spirited back to the compound, placed in front of The Three. And okay, the compound wasn’t there, and The Three were supposedly old men. Old men

that have a ‘leash’ on you… Carlin leaned into the back seat, her hazel eyes wide. “We weren’t meaning to be rude.” “I know.” She frowned. “But you kinda were.” Julia saw Meredith’s eyes meet Carlin’s in the rear view. “What?” she snapped. “Seriously. I heard you mention Adam. What’s his deal?” “He can immobilize people,” Meredith said slowly. “And that’s what happened to Drew? Not Dizzy?” Drew nodded, tight-lipped, and Julia felt a rush of guilt and gratitude. “He was aiming for me, wasn’t he?” “He didn’t get you,” Cayne said. “Thanks,” she said to Drew, who shrugged.

“It’s not often I get to look gallant. And—” he said, with one of the sweet smiles he reserved for those he really liked— “I’m a bit fond of you.” “Did you guys see Theirry?” Carlin asked. Her voice was high and squeaky. “I did,” Meredith said. “And? What’s his power?” Julia prodded. “Gift,” Meredith corrected. “Thank you, Nathan.” Meredith winced, and Julia felt awful. She was so busy thinking about The One that she wasn’t thinking of anyone else. “So…” For the longest second, Cayne’s concerned gaze pinned her and everyone else just held their breath, refusing to meet her eyes. Well, really just Carlin and Drew. Edan seemed bored. “Theirry is good at transportation,” he said. “Kind of like time-travel,

but on this time plane. He can take someone and zip across the globe in seconds.” Chatter filled the car, but Julia’s mind was frozen. Adam could immobilize you and Thierry could spirit you away. And she never would be heard from, ever again.

CHAPTER THREE “I call king, far left!” Meredith bobbed up and down like a cork in a choppy sea, her long, black hair bouncing. “King, middle!” Carlin laughed, dropping down onto the cushy white comforter. “King, right.” Edan’s gray eyes narrowed naughtily, and the look he gave Carlin was seriously wicked. “If anybody is sleeping beside Carlin, it’s me,” Julia said, crossing her arms. “Edan, you’re on the floor with the dust mites.” “Harsh.” He widened his gray eyes in that obnoxious, faux shocked way guys had that said you’re being ridiculous.

“Whatever. Just go away so we can get ready for bed.” She waved toward the door; Cayne led the way, probably more out of fear than kindness. When the door was shut, Meredith walked over to Julia and put both hands on her shoulders, the way a parent might do to a child having a tantrum. “How ya holding up?” And Julia could tell from her softening eyes that Meredith was figuring it out for herself, using her special “sensing” ability. Julia took a step back, making a face. “Why don’t you tell me?” “Or me,” Carlin put in, hugging a pillow to her chest. “I need to know what’s what.” Meredith shook her pretty head. “I’m not spilling anybody’s secrets. But I will cast one vote in favor of Julia staying in the room with

Cayne while Drew gets a hot shower for the pulled muscle he’s been whining about and you, Edan, and I go check the roof for tigers.” Julia smirked in a very Cayne-like way, then wiped the expression off her face; she wouldn’t have his smirky Cayne-li-ness rubbing off on her. “Are you sending me to boyfriend therapy?” “I think she is. You need it, grouch.” Carlin chucked the pillow at her, and she and Meredith headed for the door. Mer turned around and mouthed ‘talk to him,’ and half a minute later, Cayne stepped in. Julia glowered. “Where’s Drew?” “He went with them. Edan promised Shirley Temples.” “Isn’t that a non-alcoholic beverage?” Cayne took a few lazy steps in her direction, and Julia couldn’t help but stare at his chest,

ripped and totally on display now that his thriftstore military jacket was hanging on the hall tree of the president’s suite in their swanky hotel— one of the only ones on the north side of St. Moritz whose helicopter landing pad was visible from the ground. “I don’t think Drew knows that. Edan made reference to the bar…” Julia frowned as she lost her train of thought, her eyes distracted by Cayne’s amazing lips. He reached her side and laced his fingers through hers, his sharp eyes never leaving her brown ones. He squeezed lightly, sending butterflies through Julia’s belly, and tipped his forehead down to hers. She allowed herself to close her eyes—just for a second. To inhale him. To pretend they were on an Amtrak, headed somewhere else.

“How’re you feeling?” She opened her eyes. “I’m fine,” she said, too fast. “Is this the fine that means ‘not fine’?” “Not that I know of.” Cayne pursed his lips. “Are you speaking Venetian?” Only that cute little quizzical expression could lighten her mood. Julia laughed. “How do you know about that book?” Julia had seen the relationship guide on Suzanne’s bookshelf years ago. “Saw it in the airport bookstore,” he said, a shade proudly. “I miss Mars.” Julia shoved him gently and let go of one of his hands, leading him by the other to the bed. “I’m allowed on it, eh?” He sounded so… Scottish…she grinned a big, smitten, if-a-tad-

reluctant grin. “Aye, you are.” She hopped up and pulled him behind her. “Aye, meh lass.” Cayne wrapped his arms around her and eased her back onto the pillows, feathering kisses over her nose and cheeks. She shut her eyes, wanting more…but when she opened them, she found him balancing his weight on outstretched arms, hanging there over her as if he was doing a push-up. Hanging there and looking very serious. “What?” He dropped down onto his elbows, his lower body easing gently onto hers. One of his hands drifted down to stroke her hair out of her face and Julia’s breaths started coming in pathetic little pants. “Cayne…” It was a high-pitched whine. A

protest? The others…were coming back… Weren’t they? She reached out and grabbed a handful of his shirt collar, pulling his mouth toward hers, and the last thing she thought before his lips touched down was how had she become like this? Like one of the girls from group home who’d gladly do any menial punishment for the crime of sneaking a boy into their room… Julia’s eyes flipped open. Cayne’s mouth never had touched hers. Nope. And it wasn’t going to, either. His face was inches above hers, his eyes looking tortured, his lips pressed flat. “What’s wrong?” “That’s what you were supposed to be telling me. Wench.” He rolled off her, lying on his side with his head propped on his hand, an expectant expression on his handsome face. His hair was

still short from the cut she’d given him…back when they were in that random hotel room, trying to find Samyaza and figure out the Stained. That felt like a billion years ago. She sat up, crossed her legs, and placed her palms on her knees. “Cayne…I really am fine. Tired? Yes. Ready to find the tiger? Yes. Ready to get to a safe place? If it even exists? Yes. But there’s nothing wrong with me. My head feels normal. Physically, anyway.” She’d meant her update to be more lighthearted, less exasperated and tired; instead she’d made Cayne’s expression darken. “Please tell me the truth,” he said, and his body shifted, just a hair closer so his hand could reach out, the tip of his pointer finger brushing her knee. “You haven’t said anything about what

Edan told you.” She looked at him blankly, and he arched his brow—the shrewd bastard. “About being the Chosen One.” “I know, I know.” She sighed and covered her face with her hands, like a pouty kindergartener. “I think it’s just The One, not the Chosen One. And I have no thoughts to share.” He shot her a chastising look. “What? I’m not thrilled about it, okay? And I’m ready for it to be over with. If it’s even true.” “Over with?” At first she wasn’t sure if he was protesting her syntax or the idea itself. “What do you mean ‘over’?” “Well, there’s got to be someone who can make sure I never get another bad headache. Someone who can not only make them go away at the moment but make sure they never happen again. I’m sure we’ll find out something when we

find these other Chosen. In the meantime, let’s just focus on getting there.” She forced a smile. “You should consider yourself lucky. Some women talk for days on end.” In a second, he was sitting up, his lithe arm reaching out, his warm hand closing around hers. “I like to hear you talk.” Julia batted her lashes, covering the pleasant shock she truly felt at how…sweet Cayne was being. And it just popped out. “You’re pretty romantic for an über villain.” * It was a good thing the rest of their crew came back so quickly—no tiger had been found— because Julia could tell she’d hurt Cayne’s feelings, and no amount of kisses or hugs seemed to make him feel better. Finally the shocked

flatness of the last few hours was gone, replaced by guilt. She felt guilty. He’d been kind and wonderful, and she’d called him an über villain. She went to sleep snuggled between Carlin and Meredith, feeling like a jerk because she clearly harbored feelings of…judgment. And judging Cayne was the last thing she wanted to do. * The next day was better. No one asked about her feelings, and Cayne managed to rearrange the seats so the rearmost two faced the back window and the other two faced the front, meaning the two of them could hold hands and play footsie without anybody noticing. Cayne seemed mostly over the über villain remark, but Julia figured it was still on his mind, because he seemed even more sweet and

solicitous than he had the day before. As for her, she’d decided to split Cayne’s history off from him and consider it an entirely separate entity. There was Cayne, and there were the Things Cayne Had Done. Not the same. This made sense to her, because if he’d never grown overnight and been attacked by Killin’s villagers, then been adopted by the sociopathic Nephilim king, Cayne would have just been an ordinary dude. (One who would also be dead by now, she realized with a start). True, there hadn’t been a literal gun to his head, but what else would he have done? Their destination-of-the-moment came into view—a swanky, all-glass hotel framed by treecovered mountains and nestled beside a little slip of water that probably fed into Lake St. Moritz. Meredith found a spot in the spacious, tree-

dotted parking lot in front of the entrance to the aptly named Glass Tower Hotel, and Carlin and Edan hopped out to check the roof. Drew claimed the front seat to flip through radio stations in search of an English news radio program, and Julia looked over at Cayne, who was looking at her. “How ya doin’?” she smiled. “Well,” he said, smiling back. “Your greetings are much improved. Carlin is correct. ‘Well’ is the most polite response. But you can also say ‘not bad’ or ‘pretty good’ or anything in between. You don’t always have to be ‘well’.” Cayne’s smile got more lopsided. “Carlin said not to listen to you on the ‘good.’ She said it’s not proper grammar.” “What does Carlin know?” Julia snorted.

“She’s from Spain.” “She says people from the Southern United States are known for incorrect syntax.” Cayne winked, reaching out and pressing her nose with his pointer finger. Julia batted him away. “What do you know, with your wees and your lasses and your ayes.” “Aye, not much meh wee lass.” She grinned, and he grinned, and he reached for her hand, and Julia gave it to him. She waited a few seconds, letting him stroke her knuckles with his thumb, before she said, “I have a question. One I’m embarrassed I didn’t ask already.” His brows lifted. “Shoot.” “Um…I was wondering what it was like for you at the compound. We haven’t really talked about it… Since I got the headache and then

those few days I was kinda recovering… And then we came here…” She bit her lip, totally awkward, totally hating what had happened at the awful compound. But Cayne’s eyes were clear; they held hers, and he seemed comfortable enough saying, “Nothing stands out. It was just a prison. Not the cleanest or the prettiest, but not a place of torture. Except—” his voice deepened— “all the thinking about you.” “I missed you, too. It sucked.” His dark brows drew together; his mouth tightened, and, so quietly she could hardly hear him, he said, “I was worried that you wouldn’t. Miss me.” She brought his hand to her mouth, kissing each knuckle, and when a quick check over her shoulder revealed no one was looking and the

middle seats were still empty, she leaned over and dropped a quick kiss on the scar at his throat. “I will always miss you. Promise.” * Despite the many reasons that she probably shouldn’t—mainly the ones named Dizzy, Adam, Thierry, and so on—Julia felt like a resident of Cloud Nine, giddy to be holding Cayne’s hand and resting her calf against the pleasant weight of his. The good day continued when, early that afternoon, Carlin came back from a pit stop with one of Julia’s favorite Euro foods—a mint chocolate Aero candy bar. And when they stopped for lunch at a little café at the base of the snow-capped Alps, Carlin and Meredith treated her like one of the girls—a good thing, because

Julia had been worried her angst and quietness would chase everyone away. By the time night fell, they had sneaked into a total of eight St. Moritz resorts, checking the roofs for felines of any kind and finding nothing. They had high hopes for the next one on their list, some kind of spa whose name translated into ‘special people recharge’, nestled at the eastern edge of Lake St. Moritz, which sparkled magically under a hot pink sky and a blanket of silvery stars. It was Julia and Cayne’s turn to go inside, and Drew had come along to stretch his supposedly aching legs. As they followed the sidewalk from the parking lot to a side door where they hoped they wouldn’t be noticed, Cayne was lamenting his inability to simply fly over the buildings. Drew explained, a touch condescendingly, that even if

Cayne wasn’t being or couldn’t be tracked, a flying man with giant wings was sure to attract attention from the regulars (‘regulars’ being the word they’d started using for everyone who wasn’t Chosen, Nephilim, or whatever Edan was.) Julia didn’t like being reminded that she was irregular, so she turned her attention to the lake, out to the left of the boardwalk area their sidewalk was merging with. Several hundred yards across the flat water, a boat slid past, its motor buzzing—some kind of racing boat, she guessed. Somewhere back and toward their right, where the van waited in the parking lot, a car’s breaks squealed. And all of a sudden there was this kid standing in front of them: a young boy, maybe four or five, with dark curls, a chocolate ice cream cone, and a yellow balloon

tied around his wrist. The width of the boardwalk, which bridged the spa’s side door and the water, was probably less than fifteen feet. It was lined, on the water side, with big, metal binoculars, behind which only a flimsy wooden rail kept foot traffic from the ocean. The little boy was standing close to the edge, licking his cone and stepping backward toward the lake. At first Julia thought the boy’s butt would bump into the heavy, metal binoculars, but as he continued stepping backward, she realized he was headed for a rickety-looking spot in the little fence. She rushed over and scooped him up without a second thought. Toward the end of her time at group home, she’d been like an older sister to some of the kids, so grabbing him felt natural. As

she hoisted him onto her hip, his brown eyes met hers, and he did the strangest thing. Staring way too intently for a kid, he dropped his ice cream cone and swung his little hand out to slap her face. As his pudgy fingers touched her cheek, Julia felt a jolt of pain—as intense as a needle prick. The child stared at her as Julia’s mouth dropped open and then, before she could stop him, he slapped her again. Another sting, this time like sticking her tongue onto a 9-volt battery. He stared again, then his mouth opened and he let out a piercing shriek. Cayne was by her side, his hand on her shoulder. He was glancing around, clearly on edge. “Put the boy down.” “But—” “Something’s not right.” Julia was going to chastise Cayne for being

overly paranoid—and overly bossy—but the child wailed even louder and started fighting to get out of her arms, his yellow balloon bobbing in the frenzy. Instinctively, Julia clung to him. Where were his parents? What if he fell into the freezing lake? Suddenly he kicked her—hard—and in her shock she let him go. He hit the ground running, taking a few steps toward the water before swerving back toward the parking lot. Before she could chase after him, she heard the slamming of a door and jerked around to— holy macaroni! That was Thierry coming out of the hotel! Julia saw Cayne’s wings materialize with a mighty whoosh, but before he got his hands on her, Thierry had her by the arm. “You’re coming with me!” he growled as he dragged her to his thin chest.

Cayne smacked Thierry across the face, sending him tumbling across the boardwalk, and his blood dagger appeared in his hand. He lunged for Thierry, but Julia grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “We gotta go!” Within a heartbeat, his arms were around her waist and he was lifting her off the ground. But Thierry lunged up, and to Julia’s shock, he grabbed her leg. It was horrible and freaky, pulling her off-balance, making her feel like she was being stretched in half… Making her feel like she would fall. His chilly fingers tightened their grip around her ankle and she gently kicked, wanting him off of her but frozen by the fact that dropping him would kill him. Right? The air was growing colder with the altitude as everything below them shrank, including the vast lake, and suddenly the mountain peaks were eye-

level. “You…bitch!” Julia looked down in horror as he shut his eyes; surely he would fall and die, and it would be her fault. Fall and die? She should be kicking him! Better that than be spirited away! She kicked once, twice, and the awful deed was done: Thierry was falling. She hadn’t fully realized their height until she watched him fall for nearly two seconds. She waited for him to hit the water’s surface—surely a killing blow. She was watching the moment that it happened: The French Chosen boy simply disappeared into thin air.

CHAPTER FOUR As Cayne flapped his charcoal wings and headed for the waterfront park where their van sat, idling, Julia clung to his green military jacket, swamped by a strange blend of terror, remorse, and anger. Her mind spun, terrified by the thought of what would have happened if Thierry had managed to spirit her away, anxious over whether her friends were safe, desperately wishing this would all just go away. After Thierry’s disappearing act, Julia had begged Cayne to return to the spa. He hadn’t, but he had flown high, high enough so that none

of the humans below them should have been able to see. He, however, had super Nephilim eyes and was able to track their van as it sped away. He swooped slightly lower to follow it through traffic, tailing it for a few minutes before it veered off toward the park where Julia now stood on the hard, damp sand. She thought about the compound Chosen chasing her friends. They were in danger because of her, and she was starting to wonder if she should leave. Cayne could go with her—there was no way he would let her ditch him, and she didn’t want to. But she didn’t need to endanger anyone else. She swallowed back a sob. Glanced over the small, grassy hill and past the trees to where the van was parked. Then she turned and press her face to Cayne’s warm chest. He pulled her close

and wrapped her in his arms. She could feel his kisses in her hair, his hands kneading her shoulders. “Shhhh.” He soothed. “You’re trembling.” “Well, duh,” she said thickly. “I’m the X on their bull’s eye.” “But they didn’t get you,” he murmured. “And they won’t. We need to be more careful. I’m sorry I wasn’t—” She snorted. “Don’t start with that mess.” She burrowed into his chest. “Thank you for saving me—again.” “I didn’t have anything else going on.” She punched him lightly in the arm. “So romantic.” “I’d give you a kiss, but I think you better turn around.” Julia did, and she found Meredith barreling

across the frigid beach with tears streaming down her face. She hit Julia like a freight train and buried her face in Julia’s tangled hair. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed, “I wasn’t closer to… that door.” Julia patted her friend’s shaking back, then gave it up and pulled her into a real hug. “You didn’t know.” She smoothed Meredith’s glossy black hair. “You’ve done a great job serving as chauffeur.” “You have,” Cayne said. He squeezed Julia’s shoulder, nodding out ahead. “There comes the rest of Crew Chosen.” They’d fallen into a row higher on the beach, and Julia grinned because they looked like something out of the world’s cheesiest music video. Just when she thought it couldn’t get any funnier, Edan gave her a deadpan salute, and

Drew followed with a curtsey. Carlin blew a kiss, which Meredith caught, and within the span of a minute, the group was trading hugs and Julia was oohing over Carlin’s bloody lip and the dried blood on Drew’s long, black coat. “Come on, you guys. Let’s get back in the van. I’m not letting anything else happen to Julia,” Mer said, putting her arm around Julia’s shoulders as they all started walking. “I’ve got a newfound appreciation for your wings, man.” That was Drew, who actually held out his hand to Cayne, who to her double surprise, actually shook it like a normal guy. “I didn’t know anything had gone bad till Drew came around the corner with Adam on his tail,” Mer said to Julia. “I thought you’d be coming out in the front.” “Yeah, sorry about that,” Julia told her.

“Do you know that little kid?” Drew asked. “Everett,” Carlin said. “His touch brings pain. He’s like Julia’s foil. I guess they were going to use him to incapacitate her. Thierry must have spirited him over for the job.” Julia shook her head. “He didn’t hurt me at all.” Drew nodded. “I saw Adam’s face when he came out behind Thierry and he was shocked. When you guys split, he turned my way and I ran without thinking. I didn’t want them to see where you went, but my dumb ass led them to the van.” “No you didn’t,” Mer said, shaking her head. “By that time, Dizzy and the others were coming out the front door right by us. They all swarmed the car and one of the thugs in the black jumpsuits busted out Car’s window.” “Which is how I got this,” Carlin told Julia,

pointing to her mouth. “Youch.” Julia winced. “We should get you something for it.” “Sherbet.” “What about you guys?” Meredith asked. “How’d you get away from them?” “First, how did you lose them?” Cayne asked. They reached the van during Meredith’s explanation of how Dizzy had been so outraged over Mer’s running her over that she’d ended up making some tactical errors. “Meaning I got the chance to claw her face,” Carlin said. “And the others ended up having to keep her from going full meltdown,” Meredith finished. “Like, she’d already put every regular I could see on the ground.” As Julia climbed back to her seat, Cayne

started explaining what had happened on their end. “I don’t understand how you’re still here,” Edan said, speaking for the first time. His typical I’m-so-clever-I-know-something-you-don’t undertone was gone, and his brow was actually furrowed. Julia was shocked to see his skin could wrinkle. “I saw Thierry. He had you by the foot.” Julia shrugged. “I don’t know.” “It must not have worked,” Edan said. “I don’t know many Chosen, but I’ve seen Thierry in action. If he touches you, you go.” And, in the silence, Julia thought the same thing the others didn’t say: unless you’re The One. She looked out the window and tried to pretend she was somewhere else. Cayne and Meredith made a plan to find a parking garage and get yet another new van.

“I can help you find somewhere safe,” he offered Meredith. “Somewhere we could get in and out.” “Why don’t you switch seats with me in the next van,” Carlin said. Cayne cast a glance at Julia, like he was seeking her approval. She nodded weakly, tried to smile. “I don’t need supervision, and if I did, I’m sure Carlin would do just fine.” “I’ll keep you in line,” Carlin offered. Almost an hour later, they were riding around dark, glitzy St. Moritz in another van of the very same kind—this one green. “These Renaults are popular in Spain, too,” Carlin said. She lowered her voice and leaned toward Julia conspiratorially. “Many things were done in these back chairs in my school days.”

“Seriously?” Julia popped out of Sad Mode, curiosity motivating her to rejoin the land of the living. Carlin nodded sagely. “I slapped a lot of hands—but not every hand.” She squared her shoulders and gave Julia a mischievous wink, and Julia was shocked to hear herself giggle. “My favorite—he was named Amadis.” She broke into a radiant grin. “You should have seen the size of his hands.” Carlin wiggled her own fingers. “Oh, he was such a macho man.” Just when Julia thought she might keel over at the hilarity of Carlin going on about her manly middle-school man, the Spanish girl’s face fell. “Did you have a lot of friends? Before,” she added softly. Julia shook her head. As she spoke, she scanned the road behind them for suspicious

cars, but a surprisingly large part of her was right there, just chilling with Carlin. “I really didn’t. I was in the foster system, remember?” Carlin held her hand up, wobbling it like kind of. “American orphans, the ones that aren’t adopted, get placed in group homes or in foster homes, where people take care of them but only for a little while.” It seemed a sad summation of her childhood. Sad but true. “I went to a regular school,” she said, “and the other kids there, whose parents were alive, they didn’t really want to hang out with me.” To Julia’s surprise, Carlin’s jaw dropped. She waved at Julia’s All-Stars, then up, giving her the once-over. “But you’re so cool. Who would not want to be your friend?” Blushing from the compliment, Julia shrugged.

“Oh, you’d be surprised.” Carlin leaned forward again, close enough for Julia to smell her citrus gum. “Let me tell you this: I am feeling more happy with Cayne.” She smiled. “He’s not so bad. So let’s say this: When we find the Chosen who have an answer for your head—” she pointed to her own— “I want you both to come to my home in Spain. We will eat fine food, and we will disco till the morning. What do you think?” Julia nodded, smiling too, now. “That sounds really great.” If they made it that far. * Sometime later, Meredith idled in another parking deck whose middle opened to the moonlit sky. Julia leaned between Drew and Edan’s middle

seats and rubbed her bleary eyes. She and Carlin had both fallen asleep—the clock said 5:45 a.m. —and now she was pretty sure she must be hearing things. “While the rest of us slept, you guys talked about what?” she asked, glancing from Cayne to Meredith. He clenched his teeth, so Julia could see the protruding muscle of his jaw. His why-don’tpeople-just-do-what-I-say look. Julia wondered if not using his mind voodoo was killing him. “You need to stay hidden,” he said, “while the rest of us continue looking for this…place.” Julia opened her mouth, and Meredith said, “Don’t be mad at him. It was my idea.” She forced a deep inhale. “So what exactly is this plan?” “It’s the Protect Julia While the Rest of Us

Keep Looking Special.” From behind her, Julia heard: “If they catch you, you’re fucked.” Turning, she gaped; she’d never heard Carlin use casual profanity. “Edan, what do you think?” Drew asked. Edan shrugged. “Her headaches will come back, and I can only help her for so long. If you don’t find the Swiss Chosen soon, she’ll be forced to rejoin the others.” “Julia is never going back,” Mer cried. Julia’s hands flew up to her ears. “Guys, please. I’m right here. Quit talking about me like I’m not!” “We’re not doing that,” Drew said, reaching out toward Julia like he meant to pet her; she had a fleeting memory of another time, another van. “We have to discuss these things,” he told her. “No one wants you to go back. We’re working

to avoid that.” “Okay, well how’s this for a discussion? We’re going to find them! We just need to look a little more. Maybe…I don’t know. Maybe I can sit in the car most of the time. I think I’d like that anyway. I want to keep you guys safe.” But Cayne was shaking his head. “I have a better idea.” * Cayne had seen the place from the sky: a paranoid Nephilim’s heaven, Julia thought as they rolled up to the gates. He’d seen the heli-pad—it had, of all things, a top hat on it—but the security seemed amazing. “Control freak city,” Drew marveled. And it really was. In sharp contrast with the glass-and-steel high rises and sharp-edged chalets of St. Moritz, this

place looked like something out of a sci-fi novel: a cluster of pale sandstone domes—three enormous ones surrounded by a dozen smaller. The polka-dot structures were situated in a valley between two massive, snow-shrouded peaks; all around them, snow lifts disappeared into the cold-fogged sky. The pointy-topped iron gates were tall— maybe fifteen feet—and when Carlin saw the sign, she laughed. “House of the Gods, St. Moritz. Or someone with a God complex.” “How do I get in?” Mer asked, glancing over at Cayne, who was gauging Julia’s reaction in the rear-view. “Are we sure we want to get in?” Julia muttered. “It doesn’t look like much fun.” “It has so many lifts,” Carlin argued. “What could be more fun than skiing?”

“Press the keypad,” Cayne suggested, “and see what happens.” Meredith did. Julia couldn’t understand any of the conversation, carried out in Mer’s impressive German, but she could tell by Cayne’s shrewd eyes that he was following. Meredith hesitated, and Cayne said something that sounded somewhat…violent. Edan added something else, which sounded like an alternative to Cayne’s suggestion, and Cayne glared at him. He said something to Meredith, which she repeated before lapsing into a tense silence. “What’s going on?” Drew snapped, as Julia started to ask the same thing. “They want to run a background check,” Carlin supplied; her brow furrowed. “I think I’ve heard of this place. It’s supposed to be…high

class?” “Well high-class or not, it could take up to an hour,” Meredith said. Julia shook her head. “There’s no way they can run a background check in an hour.” Background checks were a normal part of life in the foster system—for foster parents. Even considering that the system’s check was more exhaustive, an hour was way too short. Julia explained this, but her friends just looked at her with blank expressions. “Maybe they have a computer program,” Drew said. “That can look us up from just our names?” His shrugged; clearly he did not understand the tubes. Neither did Cayne, who said, “I’d bet none of you have much of a background anyway.” “I’ve been off the radar since I was a baby,”

Drew said. “I say we just give them our names,” Meredith said. “The worst they can do is tell us no.” “I think this is a waste of time,” Julia said. “We need to keep moving. I don’t know how many resorts this country has, but if you guys have to keep coming back to this one, we’ll never find the right one. I can just hide in the car.” “You’re not thinking defensively,” Cayne said, his stern voice driving Julia batty—in a bad way. “I’m not thinking like you,” she snapped. “And I don’t have to. I’m the one who’s The One. It’s my life that’s in danger. And if I want to stay in the van I should get to stay in the damn van!” There was a beat of silence, during which Cayne’s hard eyes bored into hers in the rear view mirror, and then softened. “It’s not just yours,” he said softly.

Julia’s stomach clenched, all her insides feeling weird and tender, like she might turn into a glob of goo; she clenched her sweaty palms, rendered temporarily mute. Drew shifted uncomfortably in his seat, while Edan banged some rhythm on his knees and stared out the fogged window. Finally, Meredith decided. “Let’s just try it. If it doesn’t work, we move along.” “Try it,” Carlin nodded, but Julia wasn’t even thinking about that anymore. Cayne’s face had lost that desperate look and gone back to something closer to his usual composure, but she could still feel something raw emanating from him. She was suddenly irritated that the others were with them—Edan, Carlin, Drew, even Meredith. She wanted to be alone with Cayne, lie beside

him on a bed, behind closed doors, to touch his face and talk. Find out when he’d gotten quite so worried. Meredith clapped, interrupting Julia’s thoughts. “They said if we’re under 21, no background check, but if we don’t have driver’s licenses, we need to submit our names and home addresses.” The next few minutes were spent passing around a ragged little notebook they’d found inside the glove box, while each one of them jotted down their info, plus the few local addresses Julia knew by heart from Memphis. Drew recorded Dirk and Dwight’s addy and passed the notebook to Cayne, and Julia, leaning up between the two front seats, watched as he wrote in beautiful, tidy print. Her eyes were expecting a “C,” so when she saw a “S,” she balked. Somairhle Mochridhe.

“Um…huh?” Cayne passed the notebook to her, and she stared at the two words for a few more seconds. “This is your name?” He nodded, and Julia had to bite her tongue. Her first thought—one of irritation: just another thing she hadn’t known. Her second: This was personal to him. So personal. She couldn’t bring it up in front of everybody else. Julia jotted her full name, but not her real address—she used the community center four blocks away. When Meredith glanced over the notepad, she said, “Seriously Edan?” He smirked, then shrugged. “Cayne? How the heck do you pronounce this, and why doesn’t it say ‘Cayne’?” He pronounced the name beautifully, the sound of it giving Julia a pleasant little shiver, and

Meredith repeated it into the microphone. After she said everyone’s whole name and a little more negotiating was done, they endured yet another long silence before the intercom beeped again. To Julia’s astonishment, they were welcomed inside the polka-dot kingdom.

CHAPTER FIVE It took a lot to make running from kidnappers seem like the exotic vacation she’d never had, but House of the Gods, St. Moritz was…well, a lot. As Mer drove them through the huge gate, their path slanted slightly down; when it leveled out, the dome-like buildings fit a little more naturally into the icy, early morning landscape— surrounded by fir-looking trees and great, fluffy, holly-looking bushes. The building’s exterior, which had originally looked like rough sandstone, was actually closer to marble; the stone glittered through the tufts of fir needles and gleamed wetly under melting snowflakes as they passed a few small buildings.

The landscape, which at first seemed so organic, began to reveal its pattern: loosely plotted groves of short, bushy trees, gently waving seas of prickly bushes—and all of it topped by a thick layer of snow. Carlin was the first to shriek. She covered her mouth, bounced up and down in her seat, and shrieked again, this time through her long, thin fingers. “Omigod, omigod, it’s Jess Stanton! And…oh baby.” Now that Julia had heard Carlin gush over Mr. Manly Hands, she wasn’t quite as shocked to hear her going movie-star crazy. She followed the line of Carlin’s arm as it stretched toward the back window, pointing at a cluster of bushy trees where a pretty blonde who looked very, very much like Jessica Stanton stood by a bench,

wearing a baby blue snow suit, furry boots, and a chic gray beanie, and talking into an iPhone. The woman was super fit and super-hot, and Julia decided yes, it probably was Jessica Stanton. Then she forgot about the celebrity altogether, because she noticed Jess was flanked by three beefy bodyguards, and Julia’s jaw literally dropped. HOLY HOLY CRAP, HOLY FREAKING HOTNESS, BATMAN. The bodyguards… They were… “Oh my God. Oh. Wow.” Her eyes did a quadruple take, fighting to stay on the bodyguards as Meredith wove the van between trees. At some point in the space-time continuum, Mer stopped driving, making highpitched oohing and aahing sounds of her own.

Julia had managed to stop the sounds coming from her own throat and was trying to talk her mind and body out of their revolt. Yes, Jess’s guards were very, very good-looking. They were tall, with the kind of shoulders you didn’t usually find outside an NFL defensive line and the kind of faces you didn’t find outside of fantasies. It was true their backsides were tight enough to bounce a quarter off of and clad in just-the-rightamount-of-tight gray ski pants. And the one standing sideways had a package that… Oh dear God, did she just critique his… “No. No, no.” Julia shook her head, stealing a guilty glance at Cayne, who was looking at her with his brows clenched and his mouth twisted. She told herself to stop, but they had such slim, grab-able hips. And their hair…

It was all of the Edan variety. Luscious. Mmm, just beckoning your fingers. Body Guard #1 wore his pale blond locks down to his shoulders; unlike most man hair, this guy’s tresses actually seemed brushed. The second one sported jet black spikes that shone like raven’s wings; they were neither stiff nor sharp, and rather than looking silly and overdone, they simply served to emphasize his breathtaking face; the third had a wildly curly strawberryblond mane that hung into his eyes—deep goldbrown and bright against his mocha skin. She knew she shouldn’t be looking at other guys, but the three of them together…well, they were something else. The thought echoed in Julia’s head, and then —in an instant—the moment was over. Her body throbbed like she’d just run a mile or two, and

her sweaty skin felt flushed, but she felt enough like herself again to be mortified that she’d done a (literal!) drive-and-drool in front of Cayne, who still had his eyes narrowed at the guards. Julia rubbed her temples and looked around at the rest of her friends. Drew chewed his lip and looked down at his feet, which were tapping an awkward rhythm on the floorboard. Both Carlin and Meredith seemed to be recovering from their own droolfests. Julia glanced at Edan, expecting some smart remark, and was shocked to see him looking…livid. “Edan…what’s the matter?” Cayne was looking at him, too, openly curious; none of them had ever seen easy-going Edan mad. Cayne’s quizzical look seemed to snap Edan from some kind of trance. He jerked his hand

into his pocket, coming up with a black snakeskin wallet he rifled through. He pulled out an amazing number of bills and counted them quickly, inhaling deeply as he did. Then he stuck them back into his wallet and pressed his mouth flat. “Bastards,” he muttered. “Who?” Carlin asked. “At the café. They didn’t give me all of my change!” Meredith snorted. “You mean you paid them too much?” Edan shrugged, rubbing his rock star hair and looking…well, he looked a little ragged. “Are you feeling okay?” Julia asked. “Fine,” he growled, then shot her an apologetic grin. “Even immortals feel shitty sometimes.”

“Are you really an immortal?” Carlin asked, raptly. “Cayne’s not,” Julia put in, for reference purposes. Edan glanced at Cayne, whose turn it was to look uncomfortable—though Julia wasn’t sure about what. Something flitted across Edan’s eyes —something that looked a lot like regret—and then he smiled tightly and shook his head. “I’ll find out soon if I don’t get my hands on a Keurig.” “Oh, so that’s why you feel no good.” Carlin rifled through her bag and produced a little packet. “Instant coffee. Pour it in a mug.” Edan winced, but he nodded and stuck it in his pocket. “You have a Keurig coffee maker?” Meredith asked. “We weren’t allowed to have coffee at

the compound!” Edan shrugged. “I also didn’t have any friends.” “I still don’t understand how I never met you,” Drew declared. “I never even saw you.” “Fate conspires,” Edan said, his eyebrows wiggling. “You guys, we need to go inside.” Meredith was drumming her fingers on the wheel, and Julia noticed Cayne had turned completely around in his seat and was doing his old Cayne-aswatchdog routine. When she remembered it was really all for her, she felt a half sick, half pleasant rush. How ridiculous was it that she’d grown up an unwanted orphan when she was really some special— Oh no. She swallowed hard and shook her head. She would not allow herself to think

she was special. Drew and Mer left to check-in, and Cayne ordered Julia into the driver’s seat in case of an emergency, flee-now kind of situation—an order she resented but followed after sticking out her tongue. A few minutes later, Drew and Meredith were back with a bunch of little silver keys, instructions on where to park the van (an underground parking deck Edan offered to find), and bookings in adjoining rooms 503 and 505. “How’d you do it?” Carlin asked. “I thought we would need a reservation.” “Julia and I should go in first and look around,” Cayne interrupted. Meredith nodded. “You can do that when we all go in. Which can be now.” * The fiercely guarded House of the Gods, St.

Moritz looked no more threatening than an ice cream parlor, Julia decided after she and Cayne had walked around for almost an hour. Without his merry mind-control powers, Cayne had had to participate in real human (okay, human-Nephilim) interaction. Julia had been shocked to watch him chat it up with one of the security chiefs—a short, bearded guy named Henry, who opened an ordinary-looking pea coat and revealed a shocking arsenal of handguns and knives. Somehow the conversation about security (more of a grilling from Cayne than a conversation) turned to World of Warcraft, so Julia decided to stroll around the large lobby. A huge chandelier that looked like a collection of icicles hung over the foyer, whose marble floor was emblazoned with a large onyx top hat. The

gleaming, silvery reception desk was flanked by two massive potted firs. Behind the desk, a teenage guy with curly, light brown hair and baby blue eyes was typing something on a laptop; she got the distinct impression that he wasn’t working. Maybe he was playing WoW. As she wondered, he glanced up and gave her a shy grin, dimples showing on each side of his mouth. She returned his smile, but in a reserved, notflirting kind of way. Cayne picked that moment to join her, apparently having sent Henry on his way (after getting an invite to a WoW-a-thon in the staff game room later that night). “Nice guy,” Cayne said as he laced his fingers through hers. And Julia was shocked at what a nice guy Cayne had been. A real live Regular Joe. “What’re you looking at?” he teased.

She squeezed his hand. “When did my ornery Nephilim become so civilized?” Cayne smiled wickedly and said, “He’s becoming a better imitator.” “Can you imitate a tour guide? I’d love to look around more.” He bowed. “At your service, my lady.” “I think that’s a knight, but I’ll take it.” Julia grinned. In all the excitement—okay, horror— lately, she’d forgotten how cute Cayne could be, when he wasn’t being bossy and insufferable. “What attractions interest you, my lady?” he asked her as they wandered down a hall that, judging by its chlorine smell, led to an indoor pool. “The gift shop. Or restaurant or café. I need an Aero bar.” “You don’t want any more Zürcher

Geschnetzeltes?” “I sure don’t. I want an Aero bar, and then I want you guys to leave me here and go find that tiger.” “So we can get you fixed up and you can run away with me?” Julia grinned. “Where would you take me?” “Where do you want to go?” “Somewhere warm. I think I’m in the mood for a beach.” “These wings can take you anywhere.” They passed two iron chairs with a tiny, flower-topped table in the middle, and the firstfloor meeting rooms gave way to a huge, octagonal room with different little vendors situated in each wall. A high-end clothes store occupied two walls; Julia wondered how long it would take Car to sniff it out. A third sold ski

supplies, including pretty, soft-looking ski suits, and she spotted a luggage shop, a bookstore, and a florist before she spied the food joints: a chocolate store and an ice cream shop, and a big sign with directions to all the other eateries within the resort. While Julia gobbled her Aero bar, she read the sign: “They’ve got a pub with fish and chips! I love the chips. They’re really fries, you know.” She smiled at her mental image of eating there with Cayne one night—and then she remembered they weren’t here to have fun. “Doesn’t matter, though,” she murmured. “We just need to find the tiger.” Cayne tucked a long, dark hock of hair behind her ear. “My impatient Chosen. We will.” His arm went around her waist. “How’s your head?” Julia smacked him. “Better when we find the

tiger. Let’s go find our posse.” Cayne took her hand again, and before Julia realized what he was doing, he’d tugged her down a hall she hadn’t even noticed between the bookstore and the flower shop and pulled her into a little nook with a leather couch. “I’ve missed you,” he growled. Then he pulled her down onto his lap, brushed her hair out of her face, and kissed her—good and hard. His hard arms wound around her, pulling her chest to his, and his hand tunneled through her hair, pulling gently as his lips and tongue explored her own. “God—Julia.” Below her limp, overheated self, Cayne’s big body was taut and actually seemed to be shaking. When she pulled her mouth from his,

panting and half-starved for air, she rested her forehead on his cheek. “I missed you more.” And he kissed her again, this time more slowly, like he was tasting to savor, like he was burning her into his memory. It went on like that for way too long, until they were both panting like they’d run a marathon, and Julia’s heart was beating painfully, and she couldn’t believe she’d just made out with Cayne in a semi-public place. Because Julia was worried about the state of her hair post make-out, they took the hall they were on, which seemed like a more discreet route to the elevators but turned out to have as many attractions as anywhere else. They passed several dining rooms, a billiards room, and a smoking room. They even saw an art exhibit, showcasing a flock of two-dozen

penguins, each made by a different artist out of a different material—papier-mâché, glass, something she hoped wasn’t poo. She glanced at Cayne, wondering what his super-Nephilim nose told him, but he was frowning. “What’s wrong?” He shook his head. “That woman’s guards…” Ohhhh. Julia nodded, cheeks warm, tail between her legs. “I’m sorry about that.” “You stared for almost two minutes.” “I’m sorry, Cayne. It didn’t mean anything. I really don’t know why I—” His hand squeezed her waist. “I’m not asking for an apology. What I want to know is what affect did they have on you?” Julia’s traitorous cheeks flamed again. “What do you mean?” she hedged. “I think you know.”

She was fumbling for an answer that wouldn’t sound like a lie but maybe wouldn’t be the whole truth when a waiter passed, wearing roller blades, charcoal slacks, and a hot pink button-up with a pinstriped vest on top. He held out a tray. “Do you like the snack?” he asked in stilted English. Julia pointed to the pink glass, surprised to find her stomach growling. “Is that a strawberry shake?” “This is…daiquiri. I can get virgin?” Cayne nodded, pulling out some bills. The waiter pocketed them and held up his finger, then skated into what looked like a nearby supply closet. “You haven’t answered my question,” Cayne said, peering down at her. “No, I’ve never had a daiquiri,” she smiled,

“so this will be a first.” Cayne sighed. “I have a reason for the question. I’m not angry, Julia. I don’t get jealous.” “Why not?” He didn’t worry about her wanting other guys because he knew she wasn’t capable of finding anyone else? Julia shook her head. That wasn’t true. She wasn’t that girl—not anymore. The foster kid no one wanted to partner with for class projects or sit by on field trips. The girl who wore cute jeans but never got ogled. She was a perfectly respectable catch. A good one, even! “I don’t get jealous,” Cayne said darkly, “because I think you’d be better off with someone else.” Julia shoved him gently. “C’mon. Enough with the dreary Edward stuff. You want me to be with

you, otherwise you wouldn’t be with me—at least I don’t think so.” She dropped her voice, so it was slightly lower than a whisper and leaned to speak into his ear. “Do you think so little of yourself that you automatically assume ‘someone else’ would be so much better?” Cayne glanced down the hall, toward the lobby. “I doubt many of these boys—” “Were adopted by a psychopath. Do you think in your situation a lot of other people would have just said ‘Why no thank you, just leave me on the mountain to die.’” His jaw clenched, and Julia worried she’d been insensitive—she just couldn’t wrap her head around thinking of Cayne as sensitive. “I’m sorry—” she started, but his hand closed around her wrist and he pulled her closer, so close their foreheads almost touched.

“Everything I’ve done, it’s still here—” he pointed to his head. His mouth turned down, his brows pulling together in regret. “Sometimes I worry that just thinking of you will make you dirty.” “Cayne—no way.” She had to interrupt herself because the waiter glided back, handing her a daiquiri she no longer cared about. She took it, nodded while doing a horrible impression of a smile, and he glided down the hall. Julia took Cayne’s hand and led him down a hall that intersected theirs; the right-hand wall was made of thick, curved glass; outside, skiers speckled the slopes. “Once we find a way to get rid of the headache thing—” the leash, she thought with shudder— “we’re going to try to live a normal life. Together.” He nodded.

“And you’ll stay with me?” she asked, breathheld. “If that’s what you want.” “It is.” “Then it’s what I want.” She smiled, looking out the window at a couple walking arm-in-arm in snow suits, hauling their skis to a medium-sized dome wrapped with an enclosed deck: the ski lodge. What if that was her and Cayne? Was it ridiculous to even hope for that? Every time she thought about The One and what it meant… She clutched Cayne’s hand. “Now,” he said, wrapping an arm behind her back and pulling her close, “let me rephrase my question from earlier. Did you sense anything odd about the guards? Did you see their auras?” “I didn’t look.” She’d been too enamored to think about it. “Why?”

Cayne shrugged, again mysterious. “Hey—that’s the elevators down there. Score. But before we meet back up with them, I have a question for you: Are you going to be okay leaving me here while you guys go out and look for the tiger?” “Of course not,” Cayne said stiffly. “I never said I would.” “Okay, well I’m thinking maybe you should do another fly-over.” The elevator opened and Cayne tugged her inside, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her in between his legs. Judging by the serious look his face, he was locked into the conversation and happened to simply want her close. But suddenly all Julia could think about was how he’d felt, under her, on that couch… and how every day seemed to prove, in some

fresh new way, that they might not have the time together that she wanted for them. She rose up on her tip-toes and kissed his lips —and Cayne took the bait. He groaned and pushed her gently into one of the corners, pressing his body against hers, trailing warm kisses down her neck. “Do you think—” he breathed— “that I would let anyone take you from me?” “No,” she gasped. He nicked her lip with his teeth, and Julia squeezed his neck. “Do a flyover,” she said. “I’m —” he kissed her— “tired of waiting.” His hands, on her hips, moved lower. “I would hate to keep you waiting,” he said wickedly. When the doors opened, Cayne gave her a naughty grin and smoothed her hair out of her face.

“I’ll do a flyover,” he said. “What’s the point of exercising restraint when you’re already caught?” She rubbed her lips and wondered the same thing—about a much more pleasant topic. Holding Cayne’s hand, she shut her eyes and pictured them together. Really together. As a normal couple. If they could just find the tiger on the roof.

CHAPTER SIX “I don’t know where he is,” Carlin said, crossing her arms, “but if he wants a place in this room, he needs to come back now.” Julia arched a brow, and Meredith wrapped her arms around Carlin’s shoulders. “Car, Car, Car… Your hostile emotions are giving me a headache.” Meredith was joking, but the mention of ‘headache’ made Julia flinch. She guzzled more bottled water, hoping the Advil she’d taken would break down fast. Like…faster than the time it would take for Cayne to notice that her head was hurting again, just a teensy little bit.

“I hate to be the one to say it, but this is slightly sketchy,” Drew said, not sounding at all like he hated saying it. “What do you mean by sketchy?” Cayne asked, in what to Julia sounded like a normal voice. Drew must have imagined an edge. His tone got a little more hostile and he shifted into a fighting stance, ticking points off on his fingers. “Let’s go over this one more time: I lived at the compound all my life, and I never saw him there. Then suddenly, after a huge attack, he shows up, and he wants to come with us? Julia doesn’t recognize his aura, and he claims he’s some kind of experiment? Which I know none of us buy.” Carlin opened her mouth, but Drew cut her off. “Those of us who aren’t crushing.”

“Hey!” “Oh please. And Julia… he said she’s The One. He knew what her headache meant—” Julia flinched a little, tightening her jaw against the pressure/pain inside her skull— “but he never told us how he knew. When he met Julia he told her he worked for The Three—” “Actually he called himself a consultant.” “Yeah, well I don’t see much difference. And how do we know he isn’t still ‘consulting’?” The room was silent; everyone was frowning. “Those are valid points,” Cayne agreed, “but if he is working for The Three, he’s had plenty of chances to help deliver Julia back to them. I agree, it’s odd that he hasn’t shown back up, but I’m not too concerned. The security here is excellent. And, if it came to it, I could fly away with Julia. Edan has never been a threat to her.”

“Speaking of flying…” Julia braced herself to speak for Cayne, but he beat her to it, leaning forward in the huge wing-backed chair where he sat in front of the fireplace like the king of a castle. “I’d like to do a fly-over. I’ve shown my wings once without it causing trouble, and it would help us find the tiger on the landing pad sooner. I could go at night, and I could cover the area in an hour or so. Helicopter landing pads are easily to spot from the sky. Julia will come with me. If we don’t find the tiger or anything that resembles it, then we can try another area.” “Shhhh!” Carlin slashed her hand through the air, and she dove for the phone, a small, black cordless thing with an extremely quiet ringer. “Hello,” she answered, then broke into a grin —that faded fast.

“It’s him,” Mer reported, zeroing in on Carlin’s feelings. A few seconds later, Carlin hung up the phone. “What did he say?” Mer asked Carlin. “He’s at a hostel.” “Here?” Carlin nodded. “There are hostels here?” “He met a girl,” Carlin said woefully, “and he’s followed her to a hostel on the resort grounds.” Cayne made an approving face, so classically ‘Martian’ that Julia smiled a little. “When is he coming back?” Carlin shrugged, then slumped down on the bed. As soon as she was down, she was up again. She tossed her arms out. “What a shady bastard.” The curl on the “r” was more intense

than usual. “As for me, I want to try the slopes. Anybody else?” Mer held up a hand. “Let’s info-dump first. Anybody find out anything?” When no one spoke, Meredith sighed. “Well, I did. These people make money hiding sort-of, kind-of criminals. Like, white collar. Martha Stewart. Not convicted ones, but people who are being investigated. Not Americans, either. Sketchers from the EU.” “Lifestyles of the rich and shady,” Drew said drolly. “Exactly. So they have excellent security and they seem to be discreet. Discretion is on everyone’s mind, all the time. They feel strongly about it.” “Good to know,” Cayne said. “I spoke to someone with the resort’s security. They screen

guests well. The only reason we got in was Carlin.” Carlin blanched. “Her Uncle Ferdinand is a guest here sometimes.” After a few more minutes of shared intuitions and a quick pull-back of the heavy curtains, it was decided: There would be no skiing, because they were in the midst of a blizzard, which meant there would be no flying (Cayne shrugged the storm off, but Julia ordered him grounded), and there could be no roof sleuthing at other resorts by other means because Edan had taken the van to the hostel, which the map said was two miles away. After a few minutes of debate, they decided to eat a late lunch at a Spanish restaurant on the west side of the first floor.

“I hope they have real Spanish food,” Carlin said wistfully. “The cooks at the compound tried their best, but it was never as good as in Spain.” “Carlin, we’re in Switzerland,” Drew said, like he was breaking bad news, and even Cayne cracked a smile. “True, but I guarantee in this resort they will have a Spanish chef.” The conversation reminded Julia of group home field trips. One Saturday a month the older kids would go on field trips to places that at the time seemed fancy (one month, it was Graceland), and Julia has always felt that they stuck out like a bunch of sore, unwanted thumbs. The ornate hallways at House of The Gods actually were fancy. With Carlin’s bank account and Edan’s Edan-ness, they definitely weren’t a bunch of poor kids; here they were another kind

of outcast. She wondered what these people would think if they knew they were hiding Chosen. Assuming, of course, that they knew what Chosen were. She wished she was just Chosen. She envied Meredith, Drew, and Carlin and the rest, although at the same time she was grateful for her friends. They’d stuck with her—and they didn’t have to. She wondered grimly how much longer they she would need them to. Her headache was mild enough that the Advil had helped a lot, but Edan had warned her it would get worse again. He said each time, there would be more pain to transfer. Meaning one day, he just wouldn’t be able to do it anymore. Her mind flashed a picture of the compound’s great glass pyramid; as quickly as it had sprung up, Julia reminded herself that the place was

gone, and that even if it wasn’t she would never go back to The Three and their Chosen crazyland. She’d rather die. Meredith’s gasp interrupted her thoughts, and Julia’s initial bite of fear was replaced by something warm and fuzzy. One of Jess Stanton’s body guards was at the end of the hall, pushing open a door to a stairwell. At least he looked like one of them. Decked out in ragged black jeans, snow-crusted black boots, and an amazingly hot red and black flannel jacket, the guy bumped Julia’s blood pressure up a notch. Normally she’d never have the nerve to look someone that holy freaking hot right in the face, but her eyes didn’t give her an option. As her gaze caressed his deliciously sculpted nose, cheekbones, and chin, settling on his omniscient dark brown eyes, she decided no way in hell had

she ever seen the guy before. His black hair bounced as he moved, a short—but not super short—cut that made his white highlights stand out. She only saw him for a second, bit Julia felt like a dirty cheater. He didn’t look like one of Jess’s body guards, so who was he? She remembered Cayne’s question that morning, and wished she’d had the presence of mind to open her sight. There was definitely something up with those hotties. Pretty quickly, Carlin was talking about getting his number, sending Mer into a long lament about how bad her hair had looked. “I need to find a ladies’ room.” Julia watched Meredith and Carlin’s backs as they walked, remembering what she’d always heard about girls: three’s a crowd.

She sighed, and Cayne’s hand closed around hers. He’d been walking a step behind her, surveying the hall and probably Jess Stanton’s guard, but he’d somehow sensed her gloomy thoughts. He squeezed her hand and she squeezed back. Somewhere behind them, Drew cleared his throat. “Something to say?” Julia teased. “Get a room,” he murmured. “We have one,” Julia giggled. She turned around to look at Drew and, to her surprise, he winked. She grinned. The guy could be prickly sometimes, but he could also be a sweetie. Even though he wasn’t Cayne’s biggest fan, he always had Julia’s best interest at heart; he had from the moment they met, and Julia knew he always would.

Meredith and Carlin swooped into a bathroom near the lobby, and Julia thought about their little group. It felt ‘off’ without Edan. Despite his shadiness, the guy had at least provided some badly-needed levity. Other than the concerns harbored by Drew and Cayne, everyone’s skepticism had lessened with time. It was true that if he was with The Three’s Chosen— distinguishable from the Swiss Chosen, or Swosen, as Edan had named them—he would have helped Adam and Co. catch Julia. Now that he’d run off with some snow bunny, Julia figured they should be lowering their suspicions rather than raising them. Drew went into the guys’ room, and she sat down on a bench, pulling Cayne with her. He narrowed his eyes. “Your head okay?” She forced a smile that made her feel like a

horrible liar. “Doing just fine. I have a question, though.” “Toss.” She grinned. “It’s ‘shoot,’ but ‘A’ for effort. And my question is about Edan. I know you said you had doubts, but I kind of thought you guys had become friends. I mean, he freed you from the compound and you said he peeped in on you when you first got there. If he really is just an innocent man-whore, that was nice of him, right?” Cayne shook his head. “I don’t have friends. And I want you to know the only reason he’s still with us is I know that I could kick his ass.” Julia covered her mouth. “Cayne! You sound like…well, a teenage guy.” He rubbed his face. “If that’s the case, I’ll have to pay more attention to the way I speak.” “No, it’s cool. I mean, it doesn’t bother me at

all. But it does bother me that you said you don’t have friends. What about me? And Meredith? And Edan, too. You do friendish stuff with him. Like Velcro-board chess, right after we got to Zurich.” Hilariously, the security guard named Henry picked that moment to strut up with his hand outstretched for Cayne’s. Striking a very good impression of a friend, he smiled and said, “Hey, man. You still up for the WoW tonight?” Cayne’s smiled, and it looked genuine. Drew walked out of the guys’ room, and Henry welcomed him into the conversation, too. Julia had played WoW before, and it was… interesting; but settling into a quiet nook with a good book… That would be relaxing. Maybe she could hang out with the girls, hit the bookstore, and go to bed early.

She stood and mouthed “be right back” to Cayne, then turned and headed for the desk, where she hoped they could tell her the bookstore’s hours. She thought about what Mer had said and she opened her Sight, wondering about the nature of the desk workers. Curly was on duty again, wearing a crisp white resort shirt and sitting backwards on a fancy-looking wooden chair. The young-Norm-MacDonald look alike smiled his dimpled smile at a flatscreen that peeked out from behind a plant. His aura was pinkish red with a side of deep purple. Ouch—that didn’t look good. At some point, probably recently, he’d lost someone. She wondered who. His smile stretched into something more intense. Much more. Suddenly he jumped up, pumping his fist, and Julia froze, Cayne’s name a

breath away from being screamed. “Come on, you little bitch! Fall, fall!” Curly cried. The girl beside him, a pretty redhead in an identical white shirt, started jumping up and down. “Go, go, you can do it,” she chanted she was from the United States. Somewhere in the Midwest. “Come on come on!” Julia glanced back toward Cayne, thankful none of the guys appeared to have seen her freak out, and then peeked at the girl’s aura—highstrung, sunshine colors overlaying more shallow tones. “This is it!” Curly cried, standing on the balls of his feet. “I’m going to do it.” “OMG are you serious.” Curly sort of tensed, his face focused on the screen. “I’m doing it now, Hannah. I’m doing it.

Aaaaaannnd he slips in the grass, and Derdiyok gets a chance!” “Amazing, Ein. Totally amazing,” the girl said, covering her mouth. “He fell. He really fell!” “Yes, he did.” Curly—Ein grinned. Julia must have been around Chosen way too much, because all she could think was would it be possible for Ein to affect an athlete from a distance? That was a frightening thought. The red-haired girl—Hannah—shook her head. “Faust is going to be pissed.” Ein shrugged and held out his right hand. “Just don’t tell him, and half the francs are yours.” Grinning, Hannah clasped his hand. “Deal.” And Julia’s heart almost stopped. There, just below Hannah’s thumb, was a starburst, about the size of two half dollars, and the same shape and color as her own.

Holy crap!

CHAPTER SEVEN She spent all of lunch sitting on what she’d

witnessed, replaying it over and over in her mind. She hadn’t seen many starbursts, but the ones she had seen—Mer’s, so big it covered most of her ribcage on her right side, and Carlin’s, a cute angel’s kiss on the bottom of her calf—looked similar: their color was a dark burgundy wine, no matter the Chosen’s skin tone; the edges waved, like an actual starburst, like a starburst sticker that said, “Wow!” inside, stuck on an A-plus test by an enthusiastic teacher. Julia knew what Chosen starbursts looked like, and by the time they reached their adjoining rooms, filed into the kitchen in the girls’ room, and watched Carlin work the cork off a bottle of sparkling juice, Julia was convinced that what she saw was real, and she was close to bursting. Meredith was in the middle of a story about one of her middle-school boyfriends—“had the

craziest looking eyes; they were like, purple, and not fake contacts”—when she stepped a little closer to Julia, paused midsentence, then cried, “Aaaahhh, excitement! You have got to be kidding me!” Well, that was one way of sharing her news. “Kidding?” Drew asked. Cayne’s brows arched and Julia said, “I have news. I think this is it. This is the place.” “You can’t be serious,” Drew exclaimed. “Well…” She explained what she’d heard, and what she’d seen. When she finished, Meredith did a booty dance. “Holy crap, we have to know right now!” Carlin sighed, looking lighter than Julia had ever seen her. “I’m going to Spain,” she announced with a flourish. “As soon as I know

this is the place, and Julia is safe, I want to visit my family.” “I’ll go to the roof,” Mer said, “since it’s still snowing too hard for Cayne to take Julia on a flyby. Wait, is there even a roof? Omigod I can’t believe this is it.” Cayne shook his head/ “There is a roof. But the pad is built on a platform that connects to the second floor. I saw it.” He glanced at Julia, frowning. “No tiger,” he said regretfully. “Just a top hat.” “Maybe it was small. I don’t think Monte ever said it was big. It’s totally worth a shot.” “What if you get caught,” Julia asked. “If I get caught, I’ll play on their feelings to get myself out of it.” At Cayne’s frown, she said, “If they’re angry, I’ll placate them. That kind of thing. Really easy.”

“We should get Edan,” Carlin said. “He might be able to sense them.” Julia thought that seemed like a flimsy excuse, but apparently Meredith didn’t sense any ulterior motive. “Great idea.” * After a few more minutes of discussion, it was decided. Carlin and Drew were going to hoof it to the hostel. Or, rather, ride the swanky tram that apparently connected everything at the polka dot resort. Julia had missed that detail somehow. As Carlin put it, they were going to, “drag that man-slut” back to the adjoining rooms. “No more Mr. Playboy,” Meredith agreed. “The hussy came here with us, and he should have to stay with us.” “Exactly,” Carlin said happily. And Julia decided, for the first time, to be more tolerant of

her Edan crush. He was exceptionally attractive —and it wasn’t just his looks. He had the whole sex machine vibe down to an art, and surely most girls would be susceptible if they didn’t know the odd aura and strangely creeptastic vibe lurking underneath his pretty surface. Meredith was going to sneak onto the roof, which she assured them she was adept at, being able to “always sense when people are nearby.” For some reason, Meredith’s plans involved Drew, Carlin and Cayne getting new blizzardwear, so Julia sat beside her friend on one of the beds, popping chocolate covered strawberries into her mouth while the others went to the firstfloor ski shop. “I think it’s funny that Cayne didn’t question you. He just went with them to buy a snow suit.” Julia smiled. “I’m the boss, and I needed some time with

my BFF.” “Ditto,” Julia said, feeling the warm and fuzzies. She twirled a strawberry’s green cap in her fingers, realizing how long it really had been since she and Mer had talked alone. She glanced over at her friend, who today wore a big pink hooded sweatshirt, form-hugging jeans that might have been leggings, and sparkly All-Stars she’d gotten in homage to Julia’s pink ones. Her hair, despite her earlier complaints, was beautiful and shiny, and she’d even managed to come up with eye makeup. “So…Carlin probably wants to look hot for you know who, huh?” “She’s got it bad for the hussy,” Meredith confirmed. “She really does.” Julia ran her tongue over her teeth to check for strawberry seeds, trying to decide how to broach her next question. In the

end, she just tossed it out there. “So…does Edan give you a weird vibe?” Meredith shrugged, looking like the cat that ate the canary. “Hmmmm.” She dipped her strawberry into chocolate, chewed it, and licked the chocolate off her lips. Finally, she twirled a piece of hair and tucked it behind her ear and said, “It’s not him. I mean it’s not, like…his feelings,” she said slowly. “Those are usually in line with how he acts. I do think Jess Stanton might be an old flame of his or something, though, because seeing her made him really nervous.” She put her finger to her mouth. “Shhh. But there is something about him. Sometimes when I’m really near him for a while, I feel kind of…like there’s a dementor in the room.” “Holy crap, no way! Me, too! Just like a

dementor!” Julia was waving her arms in the air, practically jumping on the bed, when Cayne walked back into the room. He gave her a hilariously skeptical look, set a walkie talkie on one of the glossy wooden tables, and swung a snow suit over his shoulder. One glimpse of the thing made Julia’s blood warm. On the outside, it would look just like an ordinary black suit: jacket and those overall thingies that Julia was too Southern to identify. But below that…on another hanger… Those things looked like long johns. And Julia thought long johns were very sexy. Meredith punched her in the arm, and Julia jumped. “Get a room!” She blushed and pulled her hair over her face, pretending to play with it. It

Cayne shrugged, looking confused. Then he held it up. “Is this right?” “I wouldn’t know,” Julia managed. “Mer?” “Yep, it’s right.” She pointed toward the bathroom and gave him a ‘get going’ look. Julia grinned as he walked by, imagining him in his clothes. “Julia, come out of it.” Mer snapped her fingers, and Julia realized Cayne had slipped into the room next door. “I said, what do you think it means?” “What what means?” “You’ve got it bad. Do you even remember what we were talking about?” “Err…snow suits?” “Edan,” Mer said with emphasis. “And his whole—” she waved her hands— “dementor gig.”

Julia nodded, forcing the heat out of her cheeks. “I noticed it when I first met him.” “When was that?” Julia recounted meeting Edan in the halls after Dizzy and the… But before she could finish her story, Cayne came out, looking like a snow suit model or an Olympian. Possibly both. He met her eyes, correctly read them, and smiled like a leopard that’d spotted a yummy impala. “Guys!” Mer lunged off the couch, waving her arms in front of Julia, then jumping up and dashing toward the door. She glanced back at Cayne. “I can feel her feelings and yours are loud and clear! Take a cold shower, Fabio!” Carlin and Drew returned, and at Meredith’s urging, they fled into the boys’ suite to get changed.

Cayne frowned. “Fabio?” “Some super cheesy male model.” Cayne’s frown deepened. “She thinks I’m cheesy.” Julia laughed. “No, it’s just an expression. You’re nothing like Fabio, which is a good thing.” Cayne required more reassuring, which just earned him more giggles as the others passed back through the room and then took off. “All the time you were hard on the outside and sensitive on the inside,” Julia teased. “I am not. I’m hard everywhere.” Julia laughed, then gasped when he wiggled his eyebrows. “What’s happened to you!” “Too much time around randy teenagers,” he moaned.

“And not enough time around this one,” Julia said slyly. Cayne reached out and cupped her hand, then brought it to the zipper of his jacket. Julia made a hissing, sizzle-like sound. “I think we’re the only people in the room.” “And we’ve got something to celebrate,” Julia murmured. So they did. For a while. So long, in fact, that they were still locking lips when Meredith barged in the door looking totally dejected. “It’s not the place. At least I don’t think it is,” she said. “I didn’t see a tiger anywhere. Just that damned top hat.”

CHAPTER EIGHT After many years of that traditional foster kid reflex—Don’t Get Your Hopes Up, Dummy— Julia was having a tough time dealing with her disappointment. She had gotten her hopes up. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She gritted her teeth, which only caused her head to throb. But at least she wasn’t crying. She felt like crying. Which was lame. So lame. She was The One, wasn’t she, she asked herself as she and Mer collapsed on the couch. The One didn’t cry. The One kicked ass. Whose, she wondered warily. Cayne’s? They’d already done away with Samyaza. What was next? A Nephilim genocide? The thought made

her throat ache with unshed tears. She scrambled off the couch so Meredith couldn’t feel her feelings, held up a finger—be right back—and raced into the bathroom, where her hyper-sensitive gag reflex gave her a scare. But she didn’t get sick. She just sat there with her forehead resting against the toilet’s lid, not even caring if the thing was clean because either she would die of something else or she wouldn’t be allowed to die. She shut her eyes and thought back to the compound. Dizzy and her threats. What else can you do? Besides seeing auras and healing people. And Meredith telling her: Nathan was almost as eager to meet you as I was. She thought about the time they’d been meditating, a special ritual designed to heighten everyone’s abilities. And Julia’s had gone haywire; auras had popped up everywhere, the

force of it knocking her flat on her butt. Nathan had thought she’d had a seizure. At the compound, she’d been able to ‘Float’ to random places. Places other than the ones on the other side of a given wall—something Meredith had said was strange. She’d even gotten close to the prison, where Cayne had been, and which was super off-limits. And now, apparently, other Chosen’s powers wouldn’t work on her. That poor little boy— Everett?—couldn’t hurt her. Thierry couldn’t float her away. Dizzy had been able to make her dizzy, so what did that mean? A knock interrupted her thoughts. Moaning softly, Julia pulled herself up using the marble sink and asked, “Who is it?” “Me.” Cayne’s voice was strong and quiet.

“Me, too!” Meredith said. “Come out, Julia. Talk about it.” Julia exhaled. She ran her fingers through her snow-damp hair and blinked at her reflection in the mirror. Should I be wearing mascara like Mer? Rubbing her eyes, she turned and opened the door. Cayne and Meredith were side by side; Cayne’s arms were crossed, while Meredith’s hand was on her hip. When she saw Julia, she stretched out her arms, prompting Cayne to take a cautious step back. “Come on,” she said, pulling Julia into a casual hug. “Spill.” Julia shook her head. “It’s okay now. I’m fine.” Cayne arched a brow, but before they could get any further, the room phone rang, and

Meredith bounded to get it. “Yeees,” she answered with flair. “Oh, hi Carlin. Oh no.” There was a pause, during which Cayne stepped closer to Julia/ He held out his hand, and Julia took it. Across the room, Meredith was saying “Hmmm,” and wearing a skeptical expression. Satisfied she wasn’t listening to them, Julia squeezed Cayne’ hand gently and grabbed his other one, so they were facing each other, holding hands like a couple at the altar. “I don’t like when you’re this anxious,” he said. “I’m fine.” He sniffed. “You don’t fool me. Or any of the others. Well, maybe Drew. He seems easily fooled.” Julia rolled her eyes. “I’m not that anxious. I’m

just tired.” He shook his head. “I can tell that’s not true.” He lowered his voice to almost a whisper. “It doesn’t have to be true. You can be honest with me.” Julia thought about her headache, but instead of coming clean, she nodded. She would tell him soon—just not now. “You guyyyyssss!” Mer bounded over, looking like a fifth-grade sleuth who’d just found the big clue. “We’re wanted at the hostel! Snow’s coming down hard again, but the tram is still running. Cayne, it should only take us five minutes or so here to get there, so the danger is like, almost nil.” “Mer,” Julia interrupted, “why are we going there?” “Oh, because of Edan.” She laughed. “He told

Carlin and Drew he had asthma and the cold weather had made it really bad, so he thought it was turning into ‘a gout’.” She shook her head. “Someone doesn’t know his human illnesses, huh? Anyway, something sketch is going on and they want me to see if I can read his feelings through the door to his room. So c’mon.” She waved her arms, moving toward the hall tree and plucking off her fluffy red coat. A few minutes later, the three of them were dressed in fluffy jackets and jeans, walking elbow-to-elbow across the hall, and Meredith was in the middle of a long diatribe about Edan. She was at the tail end of ‘the Sketch Report’, and they were in the hallway that ran beside the front desk, when a supply closet opened and a staff member stepped out, back to them. He was dressed in jeans that looked tailored, brown

hiking boots, and a heavy gray North Face jacket, and when he fished his key out of the lock, he turned around and waved. Julia gasped. Mer’s jaw dropped. “Monte?! Holy shit!” He grinned and strode forward to hug her. “Mere-mo.” His grin was huge, and for a second Julia actually thought she saw moisture in his brown eyes. “It’s about time you guys showed up.” Meredith shrieked, whapping him on the arm as she jumped up and down like someone on an episode of Punk’d. “Your clues sucked! Wait— I don’t get how you’re even here! There’s no tiger on the roof of this place!” “Tiger?” “You said there would be a Tiger on helipad.”

Monte’s eyes bulged. “I said hat. A big hat.” Meredith squeezed her eyes shut and banged the heel of her palm against her head. “Oh, God. I must have thought you said big cat.” “Big cat?” “It makes a much sense as big hat. And it’s a top hat, btw. Why didn’t you say that!” Monte wagged his finger. “Technically, it’s a high hat. “ Meredith rolled her eyes. “You could have said high hat.” She turned to Julia and Cayne. “I’m so sorry. I cannot believe I got it mixed up so bad.” “It’s okay,” Julia said. “We’re okay now.” She looked at Monte, feeling slightly dizzy. “When did you get here? How did you get here?” Instead of answering Julia, he turned to Cayne.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “but what’s your name?” “It isn’t his real name, but we call him—” she cut herself off, suddenly worried for Cayne; maybe he didn’t want anyone to know who he was. Maybe he wasn’t even safe here. “Cayne.” He surprised her by stepping forward, hand out. It took Monte a second to accept it, and when he did, his expression was stuck somewhere between thoughtful and unhappy. “You’re a Nephilim,” he said. Cayne shrugged. “My father’s fault.” “We don’t…” Monte shook his head, like he wasn’t sure how to put it. “We don’t often have Nephilim here. Not as guests,” he said. Julia blanched, imagining a prison, and he quickly clarified: “We have nothing against a peaceful Nephilim. Many we encounter are…not

so peaceful.” He looked at Julia. “‘Your Nephilim boyfriend’?” “Yep.” She clutched Cayne’s hand. “It’s all right,” Monte said. “Let’s just get you to Jacquie.” “Who?” “Jacquie. She’s the boss lady.” Julia was worried. She hadn’t thought about who would be in charge of the Swiss Chosen. Or about their reception, or much of anything other than finding them. Now they had, and they were supposed to meet the person in charge, and she would know Cayne was a Nephilim. Monte seemed to read her mind. “Don’t worry, you’ll like her,” he smiled. “She’s like your cool aunt.” Cayne’s thumb was rubbing circles on the top of Julia’s hand, which was a good thing, because

she had never had an aunt, and she was starting to freak out. This was really it. They’d found the fabled Swosen, and now it was do or die— literally. What if they couldn’t help her? What if they were sent packing? Told to go back to The Three? Mer squeezed her other hand and whispered, “It’s okay.” She turned to Monte. “We can’t meet Jacquie just yet. We have Drew and Carlin —” “I know. I’m surprised Drew’s with you. I didn’t think he’d be into this.” Meredith smoothed a strand of her long black hair, looking thoughtful. “Monte, your ‘friend’ who told you about this place—” “Was me,” he confirmed. “I can’t believe it! You were all double agent.”

Monte puffed up his chest. “Impressive, right?” Julia had to agree. “Is this really a safe place?” she asked. “Oh, hell yes. No bullshit, and no Candidates.” Julia nearly choked. “There aren’t?” Meredith gaped. “What do you mean?” “I’ll let Jacquie explain—she likes to do that. But don’t worry, this place is cool.” His wait-for-answers approach reminded Julia of Nathan, which wasn’t comforting. He smiled again. “You’re in no danger here. Everyone is open-minded. Welcoming, even.” He looked at his watch. “In a little less than two minutes, I’m going to man-hug Andrew.” He smiled at Mer. “I can only assume that Carlin will be with him?”

Meredith nodded. “Did you see anyone else?” “Just Drew.” Meredith visibly lightened, and Julia felt relieved. No matter how cool these Swosen were, something told her they wouldn’t like Edan lurking about. “So remind me, Monte, you can see into the future, but only a few minutes?” He nodded. “And only in so much as it affects me.” “Ooh, like that Nicholas Cage movie.” Both he and Meredith had blank faces. “Ah, what was it. You know…” Right on cue, Drew and Carlin came striding down the hall. Carlin shrieked when she saw Monte and rushed forward, throwing her skinny arms around his neck and kicking her legs excitedly. The catching-up chatter, the shock on

Drew’s face, replaced by skepticism. Mer saying, “Monte is a spy for the Swosen! Always has been! And it wasn’t a tiger—I had thought it was a cat, but it was a hat.” Carlin frowned, confused, but Drew was following. He moved in for the man-hug Monte had foreseen as Carlin stepped back, out of Monte’s line of sight, to brief Mer, Julia, and Cayne on Edan. She sighed his name like a disappointed mother. “He swears he has both gout and asthma, and that they both flare up in cold weather.” Julia rolled her eyes. “He’s lying, for some reason.” “You really think so?” Carlin asked her. “Yeah. I mean, I’ve seen Edan’s aura and that is not the aura of someone who could get gout.”

“Edan,” Monte said. “Who is Edan?” * Julia’s first impulse was to lie, but the others— the ones who’d known Monte—didn’t miss a beat explaining Edan. While they did, Julia nudged Cayne into the same back hall that was home to their couch. “What is it?” he asked, stroking her cheek with the back of his hand. Julia wrapped her fingers around his wrist. “I don’t know.” She looked into his beautiful jade green eyes, wishing they were somewhere else, in some other circumstance. Her head throbbed, as if to accentuate her want. “I just feel like things are happening too fast.” To her surprise, Cayne smiled. “Weren’t you just worrying about this not happening? I know I was,” he admitted. “But here’s the thing: If the

people here aren’t what we want, we’ll go somewhere else.” “And the headaches?” she whispered. “Are they back?” Cayne’s brows shot up, his mouth twisting unhappily. “If they come back,” she hedged. “Edan can help you until we figure out something permanent.” “What if he won’t?” “He will,” Cayne promised. She smiled through the pain behind her nose. Cayne nodded toward the end of the hall, where the rest of the group, plus Monte, stood waiting. “I think we’re wanted.” Too nervous to answer, Julia nodded.

CHAPTER NINE “We have to go now? As in now?” Julia felt her stomach bottom out. “Not exactly now,” Carlin said. “Five minutes,” Monte clarified. “You’ll meet Jacquie on the top floor—nine. Henry will escort you there. I’ll meet you later.” Julia recognized the name. It was the security guard, the one with the pea coat and the weapons, who’d invited Cayne to play WoW. Had that been a ruse? Had he really just wanted a closer look at a Nephilim? Julia had never suspected the guy was one of the Chosen. How had they not noticed?

She reminded herself that she ultimately had, and that it didn’t matter anyway. They were here. And meeting Jacquie was just the next step on the way to her goal: getting rid of the headaches, so she could stop being The One and start being Julia again. A new and better Julia and all that good stuff. “I’ve got some paperwork to do,” Monte said, making a face. “I’ll be up in a bit.” He waved, and when he was out of earshot Meredith said, “Paperwork? Maybe we were better off at the compound.” Carlin shook her head slowly, pulling her white suede coat more tightly around her. “I can’t believe we’re here. This is the place.” “Hat,” Drew said, winking. “Tiger was cooler.” Meredith stuck out her tongue. “So Edan is…what?” She looked from

Drew to Carlin. “Holed up with some ski bunny?” Carlin shrugged, looking defeated. “Or something.” “Is he just never coming back?” Julia asked. “I saw him talking to you,” Drew said. “Didn’t hear what he was saying. Neither of you looked happy, though. Get a teal and purple ski suit, BTW. It looks great with your hair.” “Will do.” Meredith glared at Drew, and he shrugged. “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger.” Carlin turned toward the stairs, worriedly voicing what Julia was wondering. “What are they going to do with us, especially if they ‘don’t have’ Candidates?” * “Should I be nervous? Because I’m totally

nervous.” Meredith was walking half a step behind Drew, and her question was aimed at Carlin and Julia, but Henry, at the front of the line, turned around to answer. “Don’t be nervous,” he said . “It’s all cool. Even for my man the Nephilim.” When no one spoke, Henry cleared his throat and expounded, his words echoing as they started up a cementand-metal stairwell. “If we didn’t want you here, something would have happened already,” Henry said, glancing at Cayne. “No offense, man.” Julia heard a nervous edge in his low voice. “None taken,” Cayne rumbled, brushing his thumb over the back of Julia’s hand. “Jacquie is fair,” Henry said. “Not a prejudice bone in her body. You’ll like her. You might not

always agree with her, but you will like her. Everybody likes Jacquie.” Walking up the stairs made Julia’s head throb, so she looked at her feet to keep Cayne from seeing the pain on her face. The headache seemed worse by the hour, and Julia realized that that night she’d have to get in touch with Edan. Cayne pulled her closer, rubbed her hair back off her head and leaned in close, his lips brushing her temple in a way that made her hot. “Don’t mention The One,” he murmured in her ear, covering his warm words with a kiss. She nodded. It was probably the smartest course of action, at least until they knew a little more about the people here. She hoped her friends would— Mer turned and winked at her, then leaned forward to whisper in Drew’s ear. Julia pulled away from Cayne and fell into step

with Carlin, leaning over and murmuring it in her ear. At first, the girl’s hazel eyes squinted, but then they widened and she nodded. The group came out of the stairwell on the ninth floor, and Henry paused to let everyone catch their breath. The plush hall was decorated in varying shades of white and cream, which reminded Julia of the other Chosen compound. Her stomach lurched—which made her head pound—which made her stomach churn even harder. The plush cream rug overlaying gleaming, dark hardwood, led them past rows of generously dispersed doors—showing larger rooms than the ones on the other floors of the House. The light fixtures hanging from the ceiling were nature sculptures meant to look like scrap firewood in a frozen forest. Tiny gas-lit flames licked between

the sticks. The curtains were beige suede, tied back with pale, shimmering ribbons. On the left wall, they passed an elegant painting of a bird of prey flying over a mountain; its frame was bulky and gold. On the right wall was a pretty, frosted mirror and, below it, a small gold bench beside a hall tree. The floor had a definite feminine feel. “Is this Jacquie’s private wing?” Mer asked, reading Julia’s mind (or more likely, her feelings). Henry shrugged. “Sort of. A few of us live up here. The people that have been here the longest.” “How long has Monte been here?” Mer asked. “He was born here,” Henry said with eyebrows raised. That exact second, Monte came out of one of

the doors. Julia caught a glimpse of a typical guys’ room behind him: a messy, colorful alternative to the soul-sucking sameness of the other compound. “Should my ears be burning?” Monte asked. Henry said, “They were asking how long you’ve been junking up Jacquie’s hall.” Monte shrugged. “Tidy mind, messy room. And it’s fine because they don’t care here. Mer, you can wear anything you want and Car, they’ve got designer clothes downstairs.” “I noticed.” Carlin beamed and Monte strode out in front of the group, leading them past windows with snow caked on the sills outside. “My parents didn’t like the cold weather, and when we left, they were recruited to the pyramid. According to the Bishops at the compound, my father was dispatched to rural Nova Scotia on a

recruiting trip for The Three. When he was killed, my mother gave into her grief.” Did that mean she had killed herself? Julia bit her lip. “Whoa, I’m sorry,” Meredith said. “I had no idea,” Carlin murmured. “I was a kid,” he said. Julia was spared from having to comment by their arrival in front of a large set of double doors. “This is it,” Henry said, waving at the door. “I’ve got a WWE wrestler and his posse to go check-in, but you kids have fun, and don’t be nervous. Jacquie is great.” The doors, including Jacquie’s, were made of a pretty, cheery-colored wood. Monte caught Julia’s eye and smiled tightly. “Swiss pear wood.” “Never heard of it.” “It’s an exotic hardwood,” Monte said. “Don’t

even ask how I know that.” The door had a brass doorknob, and on the wall beside it was a small brass box. Under the box, in neat, slightly off-centered script: Suggestions. Monte knocked, and it was too late for any kind of turning back. Mere milliseconds later, the door opened, and Julia found herself looking at pretty woman with wavy light brown hair, greenblue eyes, and a ready smile. She reminded Julia of a curvy Christie Brinkley, and without forethought, Julia found herself checking Jacquie’s aura. It was apple red, with waves of purple and a faint gold glow—which said a lot of things, but mostly let Julia know that she was passionate as well as calm and steady. The woman motioned them inside, and the sharp smell of cider met Julia’s nose. “Come in,

come in,” she waved, flicking her wrist. “I’m so pleased you found us here.” Julia was surprised by the woman’s voice; she was American, and there was even the slight trace of a Southern accent! Awash with a prickling cultural recognition, Julia gave her a closer assessment. Her green-blue eyes held a certain compassion, her skin was smooth and youthful, her teeth were straight, and she had a smattering of freckles over the bridge of her nose. Julia guessed she was in her late 30s, but her aura felt more energetic, more youthful— more like someone in their late 20s. She wore flattering jeans and a sporty, white Mountain Hardware Monkey Jacket like the black one Suzanne had given Julia in tenth grade, when she’d had to take PE in the winter. Wow—nothing like a sporty jacket to make a

Chosen leader seem normal. Jacquie’s room was more apartment than hotel, with a spacious, modern kitchen; a living area with two cozy, brown suede couches around a stylish glass coffee table; burlap curtains; lots of end tables stacked with framed photos; cushy rugs; and framed landscape paintings of mountains Julia assumed to be the Alps. Jacquie ushered them past a small table topped with envelopes and a candle, toward the couches. Carlin, Drew, and Meredith huddled on the larger couch, while Julia let Cayne tug her onto the smaller one; it faced the door, so he was probably happy to have it. Everyone was somber and wide-eyed until Jacquie brought a big tray of pumpkin bread and dainty little painted teacups filled with cider and coffee.

“I’m sure you have questions,” she said, sitting in a cream and brown plaid wing-backed chair and tucking a layer of wavy hair behind her ear. “Let me give you the spiel, and if you still have questions afterward feel free to ask. Everyone okay with that?” She glanced at each of their faces. Julia nodded when it was her turn. “Awesome. I’m Jacquie. I inherited the House from my grandfather. It was built by his dad at the turn of the 20th Century. And as Monte has no doubt told you, it is a haven for ex-Chosen. “Those of us—well, we call ourselves ‘expats’—we’ve had a place of our own for more than a thousand years. Before the House we had a large convent outside Paris. Before that a bathhouse in Florence. And other places in other cities where we felt we could be safe. Our numbers have never been large, but we’ve been

able to stay free and stay hidden—for the most part. We have 127 ex-Chosen living and working here right now.” She paused, her eyes traveling to Meredith’s, then Carlin’s and Drew’s, then across the table, on to Julia’s and Cayne’s. “There are several ways in which we are different from the Chosen that follow The Three. We aren’t control freaks for one. But the ways that would probably interest you most involve Candidates. I think you’ll be happy to hear that we reject the idea of candidacy and ‘The One’.” Meredith cheered. Carlin looked pleased. Drew looked guarded. Julia didn’t know how she looked, but she was denying herself hope until she heard the rest of the story. “I assume that like most people who lived in the compound, your knowledge of Candidacy is

limited to some vague story about killing Nephilim,” Jacquie continued. “There is supposed to be a ‘foretelling’, the details of which are sketchy. The truth is none of you really have any idea what ‘The One’ is supposed to do. Is that about right?” Mer nodded. “What you and most of the Chosen that follow those old men have been told is a lie. The truth is far more sinister.” She paused, and Julia got the feeling it was for effect. It worked. “The Three themselves are not who they claim to be. They are not elders. They are in fact Methuselah and his two oldest sons. They have been guiding the Chosen toward a war with heaven for thousands of years. And they plan to use The One as a tool in that war.”

Julia’s friends had the same shocked reaction she did. Drew said, “But that’s impossible. They can’t be thousands of years old. We would know.” “Someone did,” Jacquie said. “The original founders of our group left when they discovered the true nature of Methuselah’s plans.” “It makes sense to me.” Carlin leaned forward, so her jacket fell open, revealing a gold shirt that sparkled slightly as she gestured. “We were never told anything about The One, only about killing Nephilim. It was a lie!” “I can’t believe this,” Meredith breathed. Drew wasn’t giving in. “How do you know your information is correct?” Despite the sharp question, delivered in typical Skeptical Drew style, Jacquie simply shrugged. “Nothing can be known for sure, but we do have

documents that are very, very old.” Julia’s headache worsened as she tried to understand. The Three wanted to use her in a war against heaven! And one of them was Methuselah, some several thousand years old… what? “What—what is Methuselah?” she heard herself ask. “The best way to think of him is as an archangel. He stood with the Alpha and the Adversary when the earth was made, and it was he who cast the Adversary out of heaven. “For a time he defended heaven on earth, but eventually he developed his own aspirations to rule. The Alpha discovered his plans and forced him into mortal form. He then erected a barrier around earth, preventing Methuselah from leaving and heaven or hell from entering.

For more than two-thousand years, not an angel or a demon has gotten through the socalled net without an act of Heaven or a trick of Hell. It can be done, but not without help directly from the Adversary or the Alpha. The Alpha erected it, and he knows what he’s doing. “But Methuselah has been working on his plan for centuries, controlling the bloodlines of his offspring, working toward the development of a weapon that will bring the barrier down, through a sacrifice. We’re not exactly sure what the sacrifice is, but we’re sure The One wouldn’t want to be involved.” Julia didn’t see anyone in the room but Jacquie. She hung onto every word, and when the Swosen leader finished, Julia felt like she’d been gut-punched. Her head swam, and her hand, in Cayne’s, felt numb.

“We are opposed to this plan,” Jacquie continued. “The last thing we need is demons running wild on earth. Or Methuselah running heaven.” She clapped her hands together. “So that’s our job. We’re a home for sensible Chosen who want to manage their own destinies. We have harbored Candidates before, and we’ll do it again, if you want to stay here. If you want to visit Spain,” she said to Carlin, “you can visit Spain.” She looked at Meredith. “You can call your family. Even invite your families here.” Julia felt a jab inside her chest. “And you,” she said to Cayne, “will be safe as long as you follow our rules. I understand you saved the lives of these four,” she said, waving at Drew, Meredith, Carlin, and Julia. Cayne nodded.

“The truth is we sometimes work with Nephilim. It’s not often, and but there are a few we trust. Ones we’ve…worked with before in an attempt to get rid of The Three. Still, we’ll need to know that in a fight, you’d take our side. Continue saving Chosen. Our Chosen,” she added. Cayne’s hand, over Julia’s, curled. “Of course I would. Julia is my life.” Jacquie grinned, a big romantic grin. “I can hear your sincerity, but let’s shake on it.” At first Julia thought she was joking, but she waved and raised her brows—and Julia was surprised how quickly Cayne released her hand and stepped over to Jacquie. “I appreciate this Cayne,” she said as they shook. “From now on, you have a haven here.” He returned to sit by Julia, taking her hand

again, and while Jacquie chattered about the other Chosen ‘ex-pats’ at the House, Cayne’s words echoed in her head: Julia is my life. It made her feel amazing. If only she hadn’t heard the bit about the sacrifice… She wondered sickly what Jacquie would do if she knew the whole truth. Julia told herself that surely, if she had no desire at all to be The One and fulfill that awful role, they’d help her and protect her, like Jacquie had said. Then it hit her like a brick wall, what it meant that the House was so old. Surely The Three would know about it. Would they come for her? She had worried about that before, back when Edan first told her about the leash; if she’d been leashed, couldn’t they ‘see’ where she was? But no one had come after them since they’d been at the House. Maybe they never would. But then

she’d have to live here forever. All of a sudden the room seemed to tilt. She put her head in her palm, feeling unable to breathe. She felt Cayne’s hand on her back, heard a shuddering breath from somewhere… Her. Then Meredith was rubbing her hair, and Cayne was moving onto the floor in front of her. “Are you okay?” His hand was on her shoulder, those long, warm fingers stroking up her neck. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, looking back up, forcing her eyes not to squint and her forehead not to tense. She didn’t want to mark herself— not yet, anyway. “I’m just so…relieved. Can we really stay here?” she asked, turning weakly toward Jacquie. The woman nodded, and Julia tried her best to keep her face bland—like she wasn’t The One.

Out of her peripheral field of vision, she saw that none of her companions were giving her obvious ‘You’re The One’ looks—thank God. Jacquie looked down at her wrist watch, peeking out from under the sleeve of her jacket. “I have another meeting with my pencils,” she said, then smiled. “That’s what I call my Number Twos. Doesn’t remind you of anything indelicate, you know?” She smiled at Julia. “Donna and Krista are my pencils here, and Monte and Strong are my pencils at the compound. Of course, Monte won’t be back there for a while, if ever.” Jacquie stood, straightening her jacket over her jeans. “I’m going to notify my pencils of your arrival, and we’ll be sure you’re all treated with good ole fashioned Zurich hospitality.”

“That’s it?” Carlin asked. “We don’t have anything else to do?” “Two things, actually,” Jacquie said, collecting the tea cups. “Take some of this before I eat it all, and stay near your rooms until I send word otherwise. You’re staying on the fifth floor, and that’s our area for Chosen guests who aren’t in residence. Give me a little while to spread the word, let people know who you are. We’ll talk soon.” Meredith raised her hand. “I have a question if that’s cool?” “Of course it is.” “Do you know where they are now? The other Chosen? I don’t want to talk to them or anything, it’s just…” “You have friends there,” Jacquie said kindly. “According to our information, they were heading

toward their Egypt compound. It’s near Alexandria. In fact, it’s under a pyramid.” She wrinkled her nose, then gave a half-hearted little laugh. “That was rude, wasn’t it? I just can’t imagine… underground. You poor things.” There was a split second when Julia felt like she could finally breathe—and then Jacquie said, “Be sure to let me know if you have any problems, or if any of you get sick.” She said it as an afterthought, like it hardly even mattered, but Julia felt a prick of fear. She nodded, grateful that everybody else was nodding with her. Jacquie glanced at the rest of them, still looking slightly shell-shocked. “Why don’t we talk again soon? When you have some time to form more questions.” After encouraging everyone to take some

pumpkin bread, Jacquie waved them over to the door, where she had a parting word for everyone —and a handshake. “Thank you again, Cayne,” she said as he moved through the door, “and Julia.” Her hand clasped Julia’s wrist, a gentle warmth that moved into a light handshake. “I’m going to enjoy getting to know you.” Her eyes were warm, but still, Julia couldn’t get her hand back soon enough.

CHAPTER TEN Two hours later, the group sat around the electric fireplace eating s’mores off a heated tray Monte had brought, and filling pretty crystal glasses with cider from a barrel hauled into their room by Krista, a tall, busty brunette who reminded Julia of a high school principal. “Jacquie had me bring it to you from the cellars,” she’d said, hoisting it onto the counter and brushing her hands off on her khakis. Over them, she’d worn a cream turtleneck and a hunter green fleece vest. She was one of those people whose age was impossible for Julia to guess, but whatever age she was, she’d seemed

very particular. Like she appreciated order and didn’t like surprises. She opened a canvas bag on her shoulder and pulled out a handful of crisp white clipboards, topped with resort pens. Julia wondered if she was responsible for the House’s finances. Dwight and Dirk’s mom had worked at H&R Block; people that organized had a certain gatheredness about them that always made Julia feel like a pupil who hadn’t handed in her homework. “Please fill these out and I’ll be by tomorrow morning to get them,” Krista said. Julia was probably imagining it, but she’d thought the woman’s eyes had lingered a second too long on hers. “Wonder what this is?” Mer mumbled when the woman left. Julia scanned the first page; it looked kind of

like something you’d fill out for school or an after school job. “Name, birthday, home address. Family,” she said, although the paperwork said parents. “Phone and e-mail…” Nothing looked out of the ordinary until the back of the page, which was marked ‘CONFIDENTIAL’ and filled with questions like: Do your parents have any unusual abilities? Does anyone in your family feel that they are unique or unusual? Have you ever been able to do something other people say is impossible? “It’s like a screening quiz for possible Chosen,” Mer said. “Check the next page,” Cayne said. Please describe your unique skills, with no detail omitted, including age of onset, intensity, frequency, and your ability to

control the ability. “Um, who’s omitting details?” Julia said. She raised her own hand, hiding a wince at the horrible, pressure/pain it caused inside her head. “Age of onset?” Carlin scoffed. “It’s not the… how do you say…? Chicken pox.” “This must have been Monte’s paperwork,” Drew said. “Must have,” Mer muttered. “I’m leaving it blank,” Cayne said. “You should, too,” he advised Julia. “At least until we talk to Jacquie,” Carlin added. Julia was almost finished with the first page when her pen—which turned out to be a fountain pen—leaked all over her palm, and then Drew went all Super Sleuthing Drew and Cayne joined in, and she was sidetracked by a big debate

about the Swosen and their motives and whether they were trustworthy. Le sigh. Yeah, it was an important question, but Julia was getting totally tired of thinking about these things. Dwight had been a big fan of that TV show The Walking Dead, and that’s what her life was starting to seem like. A bunch of strategizing, a bunch of trying not to get killed and contemplating the enemy and discussing odds and scenarios…and not the World of Warcraft kind. The kind that could get you killed. She stuffed one of the s’mores, still hot because of the unearthly blue flame below the platter, into her mouth and shut her eyes, grateful for a few seconds of freedom from the headache-inducing light of the flames. The fireplace reminded her of late fall, deer-

hunting season, Harry’s venison sausage. They’d smoke some and fry some, and that smoky smell would fill the room, and she and Harry and Suzanne would stuff their faces. Then they’d pad off to their rooms, and Julia would push her window open. Through the little screen, she would smell the pines outside her window, hear the gentle roar of downtown Memphis traffic several blocks away. She gritted her teeth, because remembering that hurt. It hadn’t been so bad when Samyaza had been after them. When everything seemed tame compared to a massacre in Salt Lake City and a young family dead at the dinner table in California. When all she’d burned to know was why her birthmark had cost her so much. But everything was different now. Even Samyaza was gone. It seemed impossible; and she had helped

Cayne do him in. Other than wondering whether she’d be used as some kind of freaky human sacrifice, all she had to do now was sit around remembering, she thought bitterly; they weren’t even supposed to leave their room. And when they could? What would they do? What would she do? Her headache had started feeling different; instead of the old ache that was both dull and sharp and seemed to come from everywhere, now her head felt like a balloon on the end of a water faucet. Pressure—so much pressure. Like it might burst. If Edan was telling the truth, it would come back after every time he healed her, and it would get worse every time. “Spaaace Ghooost,” Meredith said in a low, dramatic voice, and sparkly fingernails were snapping in Julia’s face.

She felt a kick of alarm, not because she’d been caught off guard, but because, as everyone’s gazes shifted onto her, the super personal thoughts floating through her head made her feel like she was wearing only her polkadotted Wal-Mart panties. “What’s a space ghost?” she grumbled, and Meredith smiled fondly. “My uncle has this thing for immature teenage guy TV. It used to be on one of those cartoon channels. Speaking of Uncle Will, I’d really love to call them soon.” “Why don’t you?” Julia asked, feeling a tiny bit jealous that Mer had someone to call. “I might sometime tomorrow.” And the sympathetic look her friend gave her made Julia realize her feelings had been sensed. Nice. She frowned, bringing her hand up to the bridge of her nose. In the last two minutes, the

headache seemed to have spread even further. Now her ears felt full, kind of like an earache— one that went all the way to the core of her head. Her sinuses stung, and the muscles of her neck felt swollen and painful, too. She noticed Cayne was still watching her, so she dropped her hand before her fingers pinched her nose. He leaned closer, a breathtaking vision with his close-cropped dark hair, vivid eyes, and chiseled lips. He started to ask the dreaded question: “Do you have a—” “No, I don’t,” she said, a lot wary and a little snappy. He propped his arms behind him and leaned back, eyes narrowing slightly. Drew, sitting right beside the fireplace, swallowed a mouthful of s’more and tapped the

House of the Gods – Zurich clipboard on his lap. “Julia, tell me if you have anything to add and we can break.” She glanced at Drew’s wrist watch: 10:15 p.m. She’d had a watch when she’d left her house that night in the fire. It was plastic and retro and she’d really liked it. When had she lost it? She felt teary over that, too, but no way was she showing it; Cayne would want to know what was wrong, and a conversation with Interrogator Cayne would send her over the edge. She was going to tell him about her headache… Just not yet. She pulled her mouth into a small, sheepish smile. “Could you remind me what we have?” she asked Drew. “New information,” he said, brisk as a high school teacher calling roll. “The Chosen that

survived the attack are thought to be in Alexandria, Egypt. The Swosen—private nickname,” he said with one finger over his lips, “do not acknowledge the mission of The One but would like to know if one of us appears to be The One. Possibly sketchy intentions, says Carlin, seconded by one Andrew Hollis, also agreed upon by Meredith Evans and… Cayne. On that note, a sacrifice conducted by The One was mentioned as part of the plan of The Three. No information currently known,” he said softly, pausing for a half-second, shooting her a funny little caring look before picking up. “There is something called a net. Cayne has heard of it. Supposedly put there by ‘heaven’ to keep demons away from Earth. History of wars between the three factions, as we all know. Swosen working with Nephilim. Eyebrows rose.

Cayne does not know who but will confer with friend, André, who may know respected, nonHunter Nephilim. Monte is a spy. I, for one, don’t trust Monte any less.” “That’s a ringing endorsement,” Julia said. “Let that be noted for the record. What I said, not what Julia said. Aaand, we have been invited to stay here if we are willing to sign away our firstborn children, cattle, horses, goats, and hens in these papers.” He held up his own folder. “I don’t have anything to add right now,” Julia said—not because she didn’t, but because she felt faint from the pain in her head, ill from the pain in her heart, and super exhausted to boot. “So first on our agenda: Keep Julia’s Oneness secret for the moment,” Mer said. “Second: Figure out the sketch show with Edan and get him back over here. You know, just in case Julia

does get another headache.” Meredith gave her a little nod, and Julia wanted to scream: Stupid Sensing! “When did Edan say he would be back?” Cayne asked. “He didn’t,” Carlin said, throwing up her hands. “We’ve already talked about his bullshit gout. It may be something more. I’m not taking up for Edan. I think he could be hiding something. But the most of it is he had the girl with him. You could hear her through the door. Some French girl. Disgusting little slut.” “Carlin,” Drew gasped. She stood up, brushing off the butt of her new, red silky pajamas. “I’m tired. I think I will go to sleep.” She muttered something Julia couldn’t hear and marched off toward the girls’ bedroom.

“I guess I’ll go, too,” Mer said, dragging herself up off the floor. She’d changed into some hot pink sweatpants and a gray sweatshirt, and Julia thought she looked tired. “We can talk more in the morning. I hope they let us out of here, because I am so not up for another compound. Anyways, night, guys,” she said with a little wave. As she walked between Julia and the big, round coffee table, she touched Julia’s hair. “Come on J-Diddy. We’ll be three bugs in a rug.” “Okay,” Julia said, grateful to get away from Cayne’s shrewd gaze. Yeah, her headache was everybody’s business as long as they were operating as a group, but maybe they shouldn’t be. If she was The One, it was her thing. Her mess. She would keep it hers a little longer. At least until she could decide how she felt about possibly confiding in Jacquie.

As if The Three were trying to send a message, when she started to stand, her legs buckled. Before she could trip or even wobble, Drew was behind her, his hands closing on her elbows. From somewhere echo-y, she heard him say: “Totally saw that.” “You sure you feel okay?” Cayne asked, skeptical. “You don’t look it.” Julia laughed, a little wobbly. “Thanks, Romeo.” Cayne whipped out the intense stare, which Julia decided to declare illegal the next time they were alone. “Julia,” he murmured. “I’m fine.” “You should get some sleep,” Drew said, bowing out. Cayne stepped to her, brushing her hair back

from her slightly clammy face, and she thought he would say something. But he just stood there, being all caring, and she felt terrible for withholding information from him. Also, just plain terrible; since she’d almost fallen and Drew had caught her, the pain had gone from a horrible pressure-ish headache to a neck ache to a chest ache, too. She could feel it behind her ribs, like a slowly growing tumor swelling, pushing other things out of its way; as Cayne made her pulse thrum faster, even her heart seemed to hurt. Cayne rubbed her back. “Let me walk you to your room.” She waved him off, or tried to. “I’m okay.” He took her hand and she focused on not wobbling. “I’m tired. Missing Suzanne and Harry. I wish I could snuggle up with you,” she murmured,

although it would be a strategic disaster because he might hear her moaning in her sleep. But so would Mer and Carlin… “Snuggling,” Cayne agreed. “It’s legit.” He walked her slowly past the couch and an end-table where antique-looking books were displayed, along with a lamp topped with a leather-looking shade. “I wish we were somewhere else,” she whispered. “It’ll be better.” He kissed her, his face stormy, mouth pressed tight, like the subject was closed—or he couldn’t stand to think about it anymore. “Goodnight, my heart.” As he opened the door for her, she was surprised and warmed to hear the sweet endearment, and the thick emotion behind it.

CHAPTER ELEVEN The sun was setting, and Nathan paused to watch it slip behind the horizon. Alexandria was to the northeast, far enough away that its resorts, its minarets, its hovels looked like a spec of light against the darkening eastern sky. If he was correct, the drive there would take them about an hour. “Nathan?” EcKland—Daniel—was frowning. He was tall and fair-featured, with a ring of freckles that made him look like a gangly kid— even though he was probably nearing 30. “We ready?” Nathan glanced past Daniel at the three Land Rovers, idling. Behind them rose what appeared

to be a small pyramid. Only maybe 30 feet of it appeared above the ground, and there were no adornments to mark its significance: the original Sanctuary for the Chosen, kept hidden from the rest of the world through means Nathan could only guess. It was tiny compared to the true pyramids, but underground it was far more vast; a hive of tunnels and rooms that, even a week after arriving, Nathan still couldn’t navigate. EcKland waved. “Nathan? Are you all right?” “I’m fine,” he snapped, and EcKland recoiled, as if struck. “Sorry Daniel,” he quickly said. “I can’t control it, you know.” Since arriving at Egypt, many of the Chosen’s gifts had amplified; Nathan had always used his voice to command others, but now sometimes it stung like a whip. “And yes, I am ready. Let’s go. You drive.”

Four other Chosen were waiting for them in the modified SUV, and six in each of the other two. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Clarissa, a middle-aged Shepherd with short red hair, groaned. “EcKland’s driving. There goes any chance of this getting done without someone dying.” “I could always knock you out until we get there,” EcKland threatened. His gift was putting people to sleep. “Please?” “What do you think boss?” Nathan knew he should make a joke. His people were tense, anticipating the conflict that waited for them 4,000 miles north. He fastened his seatbelt. “Maybe you could tell us one of your water polo stories instead.”

“Shoot me now,” Gabby groaned. She was 22, a Shepherd with the gift of camouflage. “Only if Nathan tells me to,” Clarissa joked. “So this one time, at water polo camp…” “I’m sorry I said anything,” Clarissa laughed. “You don’t have to punish everyone else.” “Forgiven,” EcKland said as he pulled onto what passed for a road out in their patch of desert. They would spend twelve miles bumping across packed earth before they reached pavement. “Does the driver get to pick the radio station?” EcKland asked. Nathan pretended to consider, then said, “Maybe when we’re closer to Alexandria.” He hated the radio. It reminded him of the differences between him and most of the other Chosen. Unlike them, he’d spent his whole life in

the compound, so he’d never heard any of the pop songs growing up, and unlike Drew, who’d come to the compound even earlier than Nathan had, he had never been able to catch up. He remembered when Julia has asked him, incredulously, if he had ever been to school. The look on her face still filled him with shame. Nathan stared out the window, struggling to control his emotions. He couldn’t afford to indulge any of them. They were travelling to Alexandria, then to Switzerland. What happened there depended on Julia, and whether he could get her to agree to leave the rebel stronghold. If he couldn’t… Well, there would be a use for the hundred some odd Chosen who were, group by group, Land Rover by Land Rover, plane by plane, making their way to St. Moritz over the next few days.

Enough to infiltrate the traitors’ base, subdue them, and destroy their powerful, demonic allies. Enough to capture…The One. Nathan felt only dread. Two days previous, Adam had made his report—not to Nathan, but directly to The Three. They had summoned Nathan, then, the first time they’d spoken to him since descending into their…Nathan could only think of it as a pit. It was deep, and accessible only by a terrifying tunnel barely large enough for one person to walk through. The tunnel originated below a boulder in one of the incense-laden meditation chambers, where it was guarded by several of the compound’s fiercest and most gifted guards. Torches flickered along the pressed-dirt walls, and when Nathan walked, his gray shoes made a snickering sound against the floor, which grew

damper as he traveled lower and lower. The path was all curves, but unlike the tunnels at the compound, which were designed for easy navigation—after one traveled them a while— these paths seemed designed to confuse. When the tunnel spit Nathan out in a wide, square antechamber, his fingers ached from clenching his fists, and his mouth felt too dry. He’d beheld The Three before, but each time was as unpleasant as it was exhilarating. Even standing in the empty, dirt-carved room, Nathan could feel their crushing power. Their unimaginable giftedness. Their raw might. He felt a thrill at serving such wise, beneficent beings; then the fear was back on him, and he had to force himself to move forward. The only exit from the antechamber was a small, square hall; the ceiling came so close to

Nathan’s head, it sometimes brushed his chestnut-colored hair. Dirt crumpled off the walls, forming small dust clouds he could see only by the light of an occasional torch. After what felt like an eternity, he heard lapping water. Déjà vu clawed at him, the familiar sensation of his mind racing in anxious preparation for encountering The Three—a preparation that was always wholly inadequate. A few more steps and he was at the top of a wide, flat staircase that disappeared in fog. A little like The Three’s realm in the compound, this place threw his senses off; like there, he could see, against the room’s dim, amber light, the writhing reflection of water. But unlike at that place, here he couldn’t tell exactly where it was. There were stairs, and there was

fog…and somewhere below, there must be water. He took the stairs slowly and found himself thinking of Meredith. It was happening with more frequency, and over time a strong urge to learn of her wellbeing had built into almost panic. Had she made it safely out of the pyramid? He’d asked one of the guards, a pony-tailed woman named Elsbeth, if she had seen Mer among the dead; Edan knew she secretly thought Meredith’s antics were funny. Elsbeth had told him no, but it wasn’t good enough. Not nearly. Eventually the fog lifted, and the stairs ended at a flat, endless, jet black lake. Without the fog, he could clearly see the domed ceiling, stretching hundreds of yards above; the water, flat though it was, reflected off the hard packed dirt, squiggles

of light that cast the vast room in shadows. There was nothing in front of him. Nathan swore there wasn’t, but his eyes deceived him, because an instant later, The Three appeared, seated on their same, tiered throne. The eldest was elevated between the left and right, his thin white beard rolling down the tiny stairs that led to his lofty perch. His eyes were as always lost in the wrinkles of his face. The brothers, on either side, looked almost as old. Their faces were just as lined, but they were able to see—they stared directly at him, their dark eyes unblinking. Nathan bowed before them, kissing the ancient one’s beard. “Is one a Shepherd if he loses his flock?” Morgah, the one on the left, asked suddenly. His voice echoed.

“But he has lost more than that,” Isiag, on the right, said. “My brother speaks truth,” Morgah said. “Do you know what you have lost?” And there was anger in his voice. Nathan had never heard it before; he had even thought The Three had somehow evolved beyond emotion, as he had rarely heard any inflection in their wizened voices. But the heat was very real, and it terrified him. “I…I don’t know what you mean,” he admitted. Most of the Candidates were dead or unaccounted for. It was a crushing blow. Nathan felt each lost personally. “Shepherd Adam informed us that he located four missing Candidates,” Isiag said. Nathan’s heart jumped. Meredith. “Including The One,” Morgah intoned.

Nathan was thunderstruck. The One. “Julia.” “Correct.” He had suspected, but why hadn’t they told him? If he had known he wouldn’t have let her out of his sight. “I will leave immediately,” he said. “I’ll bring them all back.” “If you rush to correct your mistake, you will repeat it,” Morgah said sharply. “She is among enemies,” Isiag said. “The rebels who work against us.” “It was they who informed the Nephilim of our locations,” Morgan said. “What!” Nathan gasped. He knew of the other Chosen; it was a popular rumor among some members, although he and the other Shepherds were always quick to quash it. “Are you sure?” They were silent, and Nathan cursed himself.

“I mean…what do you want me to do? “You must assemble a force,” Isiag said. “You must find The One, and you must destroy those who oppose us.” “Of course. Immediately.” “Leave tomorrow. And Shepherd: Do not fail us.” “I would—” “You have!” The brother said at once, and their raised voices thundered through Nathan’s skull. He fell to his knees, clutching his head. “We do not accept failure a second time,” Isiag said. “I won’t fail,” Nathan had said. “I swear.” “Do not,” the brothers has warned, and then all three had vanished, leaving Nathan alone and panting. He had selected the team—several dozen

other Chosen, each with at least some combat experience but a violence-must-be-justified attitude—and thrown himself into planning the largest mission he’d ever been tasked with. There were lots of details, and not much time, so he was able to avoid dwelling on the worries that now consumed him. Julia. The One. And a more reluctant Candidate he couldn’t imagine. Except Meredith. Who was with her. Who was her friend. Drew was there too, with Carlin. And Cayuzul. Nathan clenched his fists. How could The One, The One, have feelings for that monster? Some things he would never understand—but then he didn’t have to. He’d been tasked with a mission—find and bring back The One—and

he’d carry it out, regardless of anything personal.

CHAPTER TWELVE After seeing Julia to bed, Cayne opened the door that connected the two suites. He paused to listen; the quiet living area where he would spend his nights was empty except for him. He walked into the kitchenette and sat on one of the elegant bar chairs. He sighed, letting himself slump onto his elbows, rested his head in his hand, digging his fingers into the short cut before sitting up and running his hands through his hair—something he never did unless he was alone. It was reassuring—because it reminded him of his mother. His hair had been long and unkempt, and she liked to untangle it. He felt something

close to longing, or maybe nostalgia, but like the memory of his mother’s fingers, it came from somewhere distant. Buried by his time with Samyaza. The Nephilim king’s conditioning plus two centuries did a lot to strip one of his history. Among other Hunters Cayne had never indulged his humanity—the mortal half of him that, left to its own devices, might have done something different than kill. He had found affection again, with Kat, and it had made him weak. Samyaza had found them and killed her. The guilt he felt was overwhelming. But it paled in comparison to the complex swirl of emotions he felt about Julia. They were good and bad. Love was the strongest, even though he was loath to admit it to himself. It’s what stirred everything else up: lust,

anger, happiness, fear. And now he was consumed with worry, which was awful. He could tell everyone else, even Julia, thought he was being over-vigilant. He just didn’t know how else to be. His feelings might as well have been his very first, as raw as they were, and until they found some way to help her, until he was sure she was safe, he was going to be on edge. Edan had told him it would only get worse. Cayne was prepared to take the pain, to have Edan transfer it to him the way he’d discreetly done in the hostel. But Edan claimed he couldn’t siphon it for long. Eventually it would become too great for him to touch. He remembered Monte’s skeptical expression when the others had told him of Edan—and that Cayne understood. There were a lot of things off

about him and his story, but Cayne still didn’t consider the guy a threat. If he wanted to screw them over, as Julia and her friends liked to say, he would have done it already. Still, why had he disappeared as soon as they’d reached the House? And he had disappeared. Holed up with a woman, Samyaza’s ass. Something was going on, and Cayne was going to find out what. Bring Edan back into the fold so Cayne could focus his attention on the Chosen. Find chinks in their armor and be sure he knew their game. For his happy little visit to the hostel, he pulled on black jeans and the shell that went under his black ski jacket. He tried the girls’ bedroom door and found it locked, the way he’d left it; he listened, and heard only breathing. Good. He’d be back quickly.

The lights in the hallway were dimmed, so the red carpet looked brown, and the pictures on the walls only revealed parts of themselves—half a lake, a shadowy forest. He walked briskly, his jeans making a swishing sound that faded into the ancient choral music coming from the speakers in the ceiling. The music reminded him of Killin, and once again his mind spun over the place’s disappearance. It was gone the year he’d been born. But it hadn’t been gone the last time Cayne visited, nearly sixty years after he’d left. He’d actually gone into the village and recognized one of the girls. She’d been an old woman, of course, but a girl when he’d known her. He didn’t go back again until the night with Julia, and according to the sign he found there he never saw that girl. He never lived in Killin at all.

Impossible. But the alternative seemed implausible. Someone had managed to hide almost a century of Killin’s history—they’d managed to destroy it. The question ringing through Cayne’s head: Why? Samyaza had told him he was no Nephilim, the possessed girl (he’d decided since meeting her she had to’ve been) had alluded to the same. When he considered his life, and his recent history, his doubts about himself only grew. How had he survived Samyaza’s attack, when the Nephilim king had come after Cayne and Kat, following Cayne’s defection? He’d honed his skill for millennia; he’d killed everything he’d ever set his sights on. But Cayne had survived. He exhaled loudly, sticking his hands in his pockets as he stepped onto the elevator, where

the music was louder. The rhythm was slow, the voices ancient, haunting. He loved it. Even recognized some of the words. They reminded him of another time… Another life… Somairhle Mochridhe. That had been his name. His Celtic name, given by his sentimental mum, who loved the old ways. He hadn’t planned on sharing it with anyone but he’d found himself writing it, reclaiming it as his “real” name, before Cayuzul. Somairhle Mochridhe. It nagged at his memory, like a whisper from some dark time. The elevator shuddered open on the ground level, its marble floors and red-carpeted halls silent. Three young Stained at the check-in desk played cards labeled “Uno”s. He slipped by them without notice, following a series of signs through

a curved hall that led to the back of the building, toward the tram connection. If any of the few employees passing noticed him as a Nephilim, none stopped him. The tram was big and over warm, with large windows that looked out over the slopes, which glowed green with artificial light. He slouched into a gray bucket seat and glanced out at the fluttering snow as the tram fired up, a woman’s voice prompting him to choose a destination. “Jacquie’s House Hostel.” He pressed the big, orange button for that destination, buckled when prompted, and the tram set off. It smelled of plastic and women’s perfume, and it was silent except for the whoosh of its own motion. He propped his boots in the seat in front of him and shut his eyes, hoping fiercely that he’d

made the right choice leaving Julia behind. He didn’t know what he’d do if he had to take her back to The Three. He didn’t know if he could. Which was why he must find Edan. “Somairhle Mochridhe.” His name echoed through his head, unbidden. A teasing voice… Dread in his belly… A grating, hopeless feeling… Something startling. Suddenly, Cayne couldn’t get to Edan’s room fast enough. He was on the edge of some insight, and he was sure Edan was involved. He made a hasty decision: He used his pseudo-camouflage ability to get past the entry desk and glide up the stairs. Room 202 was down the right hall, at the end. Cayne knocked hard once. Twice. Three times. No answer. Tentatively, he opened the link he’d created in Scotland, queasy at the thought of touching Edan’s strangeness—but it was

necessary. And yeah, Eden was definitely behind the door. “Edan.” Cayne knocked once more. “Let me inside.” No answer. “Edan.” He heard a shuffling sound and struggled to squelch a wave of rage. He tried a softer approach. “I only want to talk…buddy. Let me in.” When, after another minute, no one answered, Cayne followed the curved hallway back to the staircase. He walked out the front of the building, into fluffy white snow that came up almost to his knees. He walked to the end of the building, called forth his wings, and jumped. As soon as he snapped Edan’s window off its

hinges, he heard a “Whoa!” and spotted the bastard sitting on the floor, wearing nothing but his skin, holding an oddly shaped remote, watching computerized people do something on the screen and eating croissants that smelled of cinnamon and butter. The guy’s eyes danced, as if he knew he had been caught and it excited him. “Sup buddy?” He waved at the television. “I’m playing Mass Effect. This X-Box thing is amazing.” Cayne sent his wings away and began hoisting himself through the window, speaking through gritted teeth. “I need to…talk to you, ya bastard.” As he dropped onto the gray carpet, Edan’s gaze returned to the busy screen. “No can do, dude. Sovereign is attacking the Citadel.” Cayne dropped onto a narrow bed and

rubbed his face, which had started to go numb with cold. For once, he hesitated to speak. He glanced up at the clock above the desk beside the TV and thought of Julia. Then he shoved off the bed and stood over Edan, arms folded. “I want some answers, starting with who you really are and where you came from. Don’t tell me you’re the son of a female fallen and a male human. I’m not stupid.” Edan cocked a brow, as if to say touché. “That seems a little unfair, don’t you think? You haven’t told me your whole happy history. Who are you, Somairhle Mochridhe? Do you even know?” he smiled slyly, and Cayne’s blood boiled. Two seconds later Edan was pinned to the floor. “If you were the girl in my cell and you are fucking with me, so help me,” he growled.

“What girl?” Edan swatted at his head, and Cayne tightened his grip a second before letting the guy go. Panting slightly, Edan rubbed his neck. “I’m not a chick, dude. Check it out.” He looked down at himself, and Cayne looked away. “Get dressed,” he snapped. “And you will answer my questions. I’m not leaving till you do.” “Your wish is my command.” Edan whipped a hand back through his caramel waves and stepped into some gray sweats. He pulled on a red hoodie and held his arms out. “Now tell me what you want. I’ve got a girl coming over in a while and I’ve got a game to play.” Cayne rubbed his eyes roughly. “Why did you ask me that? ‘Who are you’?” Edan shrugged. “Just being existential, ya know?” “What do you know about me?”

Edan shook his head. “Besides being whipped by a wee Chosen,” Edan said in a mocking Scottish accent, “I don’t know shit about you.” He looked casual, but there was something in his voice that raised Cayne’s hairs. “I’ve been told I’m not a Nephilim.” “You look like one to me.” Cayne sighed. “Why did you separate from our group?” “Girls, man. You know, I was kept away from them at the Compound.” “Bullshit.” “I thought so too.” Cayne growled, then stopped himself. It was a habit he was trying to kick at Julia’s insistence. She said it scared people. Then he realized he didn’t care whether Eden was scared.

“Why were you afraid of the guards we saw outside the resort?” He growled. Eden puffed himself up. “I don’t know what guards you’re talking about, and I’m—” “You think I bought your story about the café?” Edan looked confused, then his eyes widened. “They did. They stole my money!” “You’re lying.” Edan shrugged. “You don’t believe what I say, I see no point in continuing our conversation. Maybe you should hit the bar, dude. Loosen up a little.” Cayne tried another angle. “I’ve got a past of my own. If anyone’s going to listen with an open mind, it’s me.” A look passed over Edan’s face—a rippling that eventually became a smile, but Cayne

suspected could have come out uglier. “Bro—can I call you Bro? Of course I can. So here’s the thing, Bro: there’s nothing to tell. Maybe my origin doesn’t make much sense to you; it hasn’t to me—but it’s the story I know. Think what you will, but I am who I am. And I can’t help Julia. I’m not sure who can lift a curse.” He rubbed his forearm, looking irritated. “I’ll catch you later.” Edan walked to the door, but Cayne stayed put. “You need to come back with me. We have two suites—both nicer than this room.” “No can do my man. Like I said, I’ve got a date later. I’ve gotta get ready.” Cayne walked to him, intentionally intruding on his personal space. “I don’t know why you decided to come with us in the beginning—” “You’re all such good company.”

“Shut up! I spoke for you then, and now you owe me.” “I’d say that made us even.” “Then how about this: If you don’t come back willingly, I’ll drag you back.” Cayne hadn’t really expected the guy to comply, but he was surprised by the darkness in Edan’s eyes. No, they actually did darken, turning almost black as he stood straight. “That is not something you want to try,” he warned. Cayne held himself in check. He couldn’t force Edan to do anything. So he gritted his teeth and he did it for Julia. He said, “Please.” Edan looked torn. For about a second. And then he simply said, “I would if I could.” Cayne flexed his hand. Balled into a fist. But instead of smashing into Edan’s face, the way he wanted to, the way he would have in the past…

He walked out.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN As she watched herself writhe against the binds that pinned her to the chair, Julia had an incredible sense of déjà vu. She’d been here before. The sting of the ropes rubbing her skin, the feeling of being trapped with no escape—it was familiar. But she didn’t know how. Adrenaline raced through her, her mind bounced, her whole body twitched, and something must have happened, because the next second she was running—fast. I have to get to Cayne! He was swathed in fog—so much of it she almost couldn’t see him. The wisps wound around his body like tentacles, puffs of white

against a dark landscape. Somewhere nearby, she heard the sloshing sound of water lapping rock. She stepped closer, and the space cleared around his face. She gasped. It was blue. Lifeless. She lunged toward him, but he and the fog vanished, and she tripped, fell onto her knees. Her head was pounding, and her hands were wet. She pulled them to her face. They were covered in gold. On the ground was what looked like splatter paint. She touched it and found her fingertips pressing into woven gold: the net. It shifted as she moved, sending heat through her body, and soon she was hot, too hot and getting hotter. She felt herself fraying from the inside, her pieces ripping— Julia awoke in a cold sweat with her head

pressed into Carlin’s side and one of her legs tangled with Meredith’s. The first thing she thought was: She’d had that exact same dream before—when she’d had her headache the first time, back in Scotland. She looked left, and found Mer’s wide brown eyes fixed on her. “Holy cow,” Meredith whispered, “I just saw you in my nightmare.” Julia propped her head up on her arm, but she was shaking and she didn’t know for sure if she could speak. She widened her eyes in response. “Julia, you were doing what I do. I was having this dream about…” She chewed her lip. “I was dreaming about Nathan. He had this really bad feeling. Confused and terrified.” Meredith’s voice cracked on the word. She rubbed her eyes and sat up a little, clutching the blanket to her chest.

Carlin resituated behind Julia, and Mer dropped her voice to a softer whisper. “Sorry—Nathan turns me into a big crybaby.” She rubbed her eyes. Inhaled. Exhaled. “So anyways. He was walking on top of dark water where I see him walk sometimes, and he was really upset about his family. He was really alone…and sad. And then all of a sudden you were there. I saw your pink shoes first, and you were standing sort of behind him, in the fog. You looked right at me and you said, ‘Did you know that he’s been to see The Three? That’s what this water is. It means he’s in their grasp.’ Then I woke up, and you were waking up to!” Julia shook her head. “I was dreaming something completely different.” Carlin, lying on her stomach, pressed one palm over her ear, and Mer grabbed Julia’s arm.

“Let’s go somewhere else,” she whispered. Sitting up and scooting off the bed made Julia’s vision dapple, but she gritted her teeth and followed Meredith to the bathroom, where her friend gave her a kind, parental look. “I can tell your head is killing you. Wanna try a hot shower? I’ll stand on the other side of the curtain and we can talk about your freakish new dream walking abilities.” Julia groaned. “I am so a freak. And I was right—dream me: I think the foggy that foggy stuff and the water must be where the Three hang out. Or hung out.” She shrugged, wincing as the motion sent a bolt of pain into her head. Meredith had grabbed a paddle brush and jerked it through her long hair, prancing like an anxious horse. “You said he’s in their grasp. What does that mean? I never really thought

about him seeing them—not that he ever admitted it. I just thought he was just this annoying, holier-than-thou kind of guy, but now I don’t, and now I’m worried. Julia, it’s terrible. I am so worried about him. He’s a good guy. I’m sorry if that’s hard for you to see.” “It isn’t.” Julia grabbed the brush from Mer’s hands and pointed to the dark marble Jacuzzi. “Sit down.” As Meredith did, Julia sank down to the floor, facing her friend, leaning her back against the cabinets below the sink. “Honestly, I do think Nathan is a decent guy. I don’t know anything about The Three…not firsthand anyway, but I think it’s probably not good that he’s so… That he’s in such close contact.” “He’s such a dumbass,” Mer groaned. She wrapped one arm around her gown-clad waist and used the other to wipe her eyes. “I told him

to come with me. Why does he always have to follow the rules? Do you think they’re angry? That we got away? ’Cause if it’s part my fault, I don’t know how I could—” “No. No way.” Julia didn’t want to shake her head, so she wagged a finger. “I think you should remember it was just a dream. When I saw you a long time ago in my vision, you were on an Amtrak. Cayne and I later took the Amtrak to D.C. but we never saw you on it—you or Nathan.” “Sometimes the dreams get jumbled together. You don’t know for sure what it means. But I want to know.” Meredith was up again, and pacing. “Have you had visions? Ones like Drew?” “No. I didn’t even know that I could…do the dream thing.”

“I call it dream walking,” Meredith said miserably. Julia puffed out her breath. “So maybe I really am The One?” “Um, Everett’s powers didn’t work on you and neither did Thierry’s, and now you can walk in people’s dreams? I’d say so, chicka.” Meredith flipped her smooth mane over her shoulder. “You can’t stay in denial, Jules. We need to pow-wow about this soon.” “I know.” Meredith stepped closer, her brown eyes shining with sympathy. “Want me to go and let you get a bath? I can bring you some medicine.” Julia nodded. “I’ll try the bath.” She cracked a tiny smile. “But not until you leave. I am so not a group-bathroom-trip girl.” “And yet…” Mer smiled.

“I know. At least it’s only us and not Carlin, too. And neither of has used the toilet, thank Jesus.” Mer’s smile grew wider. “I can’t believe you dream walked. Before we know it you’ll be doing everything.” “I’m a freak. A big, freaky freak.” “You’re multi-talented.” Mer’s brows wiggled. “This isn’t the circus, Meredith. They’re called abilities,” Julia said in a gruff voice, amused with her own Nathan impression. Mer slumped against the counter, big-eyed and miserable, and Julia felt like an idiot. “Do you think he’s really okay?” the other girl asked softly. Julia nodded, but before she spewed a bunch of insincere B.S., she reached into the tub and

turned the faucet knob, wanting to think about her answer for a minute. Water gushed out, smacking the marble tub and making it difficult to think around her pounding headache. She turned back to Meredith. “I think he can handle it. And, you know, the dream might have been about anything. Maybe they’re…” Sending him on some mission, she was going to say, but she realized that if they were, the mission was to get her. Why else would she have been there, accusing him? “Julia, are you okay? You just kinda stopped talking.” “Sorry.” She forced a tight smile. “I’m just tired and headachy.” “And worried. You can’t fool this girl. What are you worried about?”

“Nothing the bubbles can’t handle.” Julia didn’t feel right about dumping her stuff on Meredith yet. “Go. Skedaddle?” “…Skedaddle?” “Scamper off.” Meredith laughed as she stood to go. Julia said, “Try not to worry too much about Nathan. Maybe Jacquie can ask…what’s his name, Stone? Maybe she can ask him how Nathan is.” Standing in the half-opened doorway, Meredith nodded. “I’ll try not to worry. Do you want to talk about your dream? I didn’t even ask.” “It was nothing. Just a regular nightmare.” Meredith yawned, speaking around the hand that covered her mouth. “Well regardless, wake me up if you need to.”

Julia nodded, but she wasn’t sticking around. The moment her friend was asleep, the bath was off and she was on her way to find Edan. * Switzerland was cold. Like…freezing. So maybe she should have worn her snow suit, but Julia didn’t like the bulky, claustrophobic feeling it gave her. Instead, when she was sure Meredith was sleeping and she’d left a note and walkie talkie on the bedside table, she slipped into a pair of butt-hugging black jeans (a fad in St. Moritz) and a black leather jacket. Maybe it was a little much, but the thing was warm and cozy and its square-ish shoulders happened to be very flattering; Carlin had picked it out—and she knew what she was doing. Plus, the black helped with the night-time subterfuge.

Before she sneaked out the door, she opened a box of cheap airport boutique earrings they’d bought in Zurich Airport and popped some tiny faux diamonds in her ears; no reason not to look cute. She slid one of the walkie talkies in her back pocket and looked over at the door that joined the guys’ and girls’ rooms, feeling guilty for what she was about to do. But she would be back fast, and the resort was safe, and if she could get Edan to heal her again, she wouldn’t have to tell anybody else about her problem. They needed time to feel these Swosen out, and she didn’t want anyone else pushing her into anything before she could get her own read on them. Even Cayne. The hall was quiet except the low hum of music over the speakers. Brown and beige ceramic wall scones cast a gentle amber glow

over the gleaming wood walls and plush red rug. Julia’s head pounded with every step, reminding her over and over again that she really was The One. Reminding her that she had no idea what that meant. Reminding her how important it was to get her leash removed. She’d more than earned a right to her own life. She stood in the corner of the elevator, leaning against its mirrored walls, with her arms tucked around herself and her eyes closed. The headache was doing its spreading thing again, burning through her upper body. It made her feel nauseated and weak. The doors trembled open and a whoosh of colder air hit her, but she didn’t move. Even her chest hurt, a deep, almost numbing feeling that was immediately forgotten as she heard a shout, followed by a round of clapping.

She stepped out into the hall and glanced over to her left, where, behind the counter, she saw a girl and a guy hovering around a computer, and a flatscreen behind them showing a room full of people on computers. “WoW,” the girl giggled, smiling shyly at Julia. “Want to play? You look kind of lost.” “No thanks. But can you help me find the tram?” The girl’s delicate red brows clenched. “At this hour? You must have a boy problem.” Julia laughed, a burst of pain. “Something like that,” she croaked. The nice, strawberry-blonde girl gave her directions, but she had to stop in the rounded hallway before she reached her destination. Her knees were trembling. In fact, her whole body was crying out, like she’d been run over by a

train. She wanted to sleep… Just sleep. She wanted it so badly, it was kind of scary. She would have to find a Red Bull… or one of those Rockstar drinks. Something to help her hide from Cayne, she thought blearily. The thought made tears pool in her eyes, because she knew how unhappy he would be if he knew the truth. She would sit here on the carpet for just a second longer, and then she’d go find Edan. He could help her. Except… as she glanced once more down the hall, she found herself staring up at Cayne.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN Hot damn, that was definitely him! Julia reacted like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar. She hopped up so fast her head roared with pain, her cheeks flushed, and her stomach bottomed out. Fluffy black spots danced in and out of her field of vision as she ran her hands over her clothes and tried to smile. Fail. Her mouth was so dry, she couldn’t meld it into a smile, and it was too late anyway. Cayne had noticed her, there on the floor, and now she watched his expression morph from furious to shocked…to furious. His mouth lolled open like

a goldfish, and she knew he was trying to decide how to react as he strode closer. When his hands caught her elbows, everything but concern flew off his face. His short, dark hair emphasized his handsome features, making him look starker. She looked into his gorgeous green eyes and wondered how she was going to tell him. She was still looking there when she saw him realize for himself. “It’s the headache, right? I can see it there.” He motioned to her face, around her eyes. Julia’s mouth trembled, but she bit her lip and nodded, determined not to cry. He came in close beside her, wrapping one arm around her back and using his other hand to clasp hers. “You came looking for me? I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” “For Edan,” she whispered.

His brows arched. “Is it that bad?” “Only recently.” Julia stared over his shoulder, at a wall scone. “It was only there a little, and then tonight it started getting worse.” Her voice sounded small, so she swallowed. “I’m not going back to The Three.” “You won’t.” He assured her, and then he mutter something about Edan. “What?” she said, suddenly wondering what he was doing wandering halls. “I just talked to Edan. He left.” “What do you mean?” She frowned. “It’s a long story. We got into it.” “You had an argument?” Cayne nodded, looking angry. “He’d rather play television games.” Television games? “Don’t worry. I’ll take you back to the room

and then I’ll find him.” “Cayne…don’t.” She wrapped her aching arms around him. “Can we just stand here for a minute?” They were right in front of a window; she could see the slopes, lit with green lights, below the contour of his bicep. His arms, around her back, tightened, and he buried his face in her shoulder. “Julia, I’m so sorry. I would do anything to take this away.” “I know.” Her fingers stroked through his short hair, and he kissed her jaw. “I love you.” He squeezed her tighter, and Julia felt her feet rise off the ground. “I love you, too. You are my heart.” She leaned her head against his chin, feeling loved and a little more hopeful. “I’ll get better. We’ll figure it out.” She was so tired, so content, and so relaxed, she didn’t notice they were

literally floating a few inches off the ground until a cry rang out, Cayne whirled around, and a body guard barreled toward them. Their feet hit the floor a second before he throttled Cayne. It was one of Jessica Stanton’s guards—the one with the pale blond hair, crystalline blue eyes, and hard, flawless face. Julia barely had time to register his black jeans, black boots, black jacket before he was on Cayne like a second skin, landing hard and violent punches that made awful crunching sounds. Julia’s heart raced—her head killed—as Cayne bent over, but then he reared up, smashing a fist into the guard’s amazing face. It might have been an illusion caused by her headache, but Julia could have sworn they both moved so fast they blurred—like coyote and roadrunner in those old cartoons. But no…it wasn’t an illusion.

She took a tentative step backwards and sagged against the wall, panting as she vacillated between helping Cayne and throwing up. The fight was surprisingly even, with Cayne staying a half-step ahead on the blow-by-blow, but the guard returning powerful hits that knocked Cayne all around the hall. Julia didn’t understand how that was possible, unless the guard was also a Nephilim, or maybe some kind of special Chosen. The fight seemed to go on impossibly long, too, but maybe it was just a few seconds of the guard banging Cayne into the wall before Cayne landed a brutal kick. The guard nearly flipped before crashing to the floor, and Cayne’s blood dagger appeared in his hand. Do it, Julia thought weakly, not sure how much longer she could stay conscious with her

head throbbing like it was. Cayne didn’t do it. In fact, he hesitated. And then the weirdest thing happened: Out of thin air, the guard whipped out a bow and an arrow, both glowing in what could only be called celestial light — Holy shit, he’s an angel. Julia sagged and clutched her head, because the light made everything vibrate, and it was like being kicked between the eyes. Before the guard could pull his bow back, Cayne stabbed him. At least, that’s what Julia assumed. The guard’s roar made her eyes open, and as she wobbled to her feet, she saw Cayne ripping his blood dagger down the guard’s right side. Just then another bodyguard came flying around the curved hall. Before he reached Cayne, his arrow did. It pierced Cayne’s

shoulder and Cayne reacted like Julia had never seen, crying out in agony and sinking to his knees as both of the guards jumped on him. Julia screamed, and she rushed forward, thinking oh, shit! These were evil angels! Which was the last coherent thought she had before she collided with Jacquie, and the world fell away. * Julia awoke to Performance Today. She knew it was Performance Today before she opened her eyes, because the classical music program had been Suzanne’s favorite, and the voice of the show’s host, Fred Childs, was burned into her brain. She did a quick body check—her head still hurt like leaping lizards—before opening her eyes and frowning at a London Olympics poster. She squinted and realized that the squiggles on the

poster were signatures. Her next thought was CAYNE! She glanced left and right, the motion making the base of her skull throb, but all she found was a table topped with a bunch of trophies and a corner shelf filled with ice skates The room was narrow, with barely enough space for her twin, hospital-style bed amidst a bunch of junk like beanbags, rocking chairs, water guns, American Girl dolls— American Girl dolls? They weren’t even in America. A confused little groan escaped her mouth, and the door flew open—a door she hadn’t even seen behind a human-sized, cardboard Twilight Edward. Cayne was beside her bed so fast it nearly gave her whiplash. For a second he looked like a regular guy, and it made her feel like a regular girl. He stroked her

hair with his big, warm hand, and she looked into his eyes. Then Jacquie stepped in behind him, and he went insta-on guard. Julia glanced at the Swosen leader, who was watching them openly, then back to Cayne. “How do you feel?” he rumbled. “You’ve been out for a few hours.” “Have I?” Julia could see light peeking around the curtain covering a small, round window. Feeling slightly panicked at the passage of time, she did her best to push herself up on her arms without wincing from her headache. Jacquie had stepped a little closer, and was now standing shoulder-to-shoulder with cardboard Edward, looking contrite. “I apologize for the state of your room,” she said. “It’s sort of my own little private infirmary, but it’s also a stockroom for the children. Hence the dolls,” she

added, holding up a Samantha whose dark hair had been chopped chin-length. “I didn’t realize there were so many.” “How are you feeling,” the woman asked gently, as Julia looked into Cayne’s assessing eyes. She felt an uncomfortable flush sweep over her face and neck. “I don’t know,” she said. “What happened?” “I’ll let your boyfriend tell you while I get some tea. I know you may want a moment to collect yourself. If you’re feeling well enough, we can leave this cluttered room and go out onto the couch.” “Thanks.” When the woman left, Julia took Cayne’s hands. “Were those angels?” He nodded, then gave a tight, sarcastic smile.

“They didn’t realize I was ‘friendly.’” “You are so friendly.” Cayne scowled, and Julia grinned. She pointed at his shoulder. “It looks fine now.” “Jacquie had one of them heal it. Not that I asked. It would have healed on its own eventually.” “What a bad ass.” She smiled. “The baddest.” “I think you mean worst.” He wagged his finger. Julia sighed. “So you were fine after that, but I was like…passed out?” “Jacquie said she ran into you. Thought it might have knocked you out. I know that’s not it.” “You thought I passed out because of my head?”

He nodded, his face super serious. “I was frightened.” Julia reached up to caress his prickly jaw. “I’m sorry.” She actually kinda had passed out because of her head, but it was true that she was sorry. Really, really freakin’ sorry to see her tough guy so upset. “My head actually feels a little bit better. We’ll find some help. Maybe Edan, maybe someone here. But right now I want to know the deal with the angels.” Cayne inhaled deeply, nodded. “I’d like to hear more, too. Most of the time you were asleep I was with you, on that beanbag.” “I bet that was a new experience for you?” “The beanbag?” “Yeah.” “Not a fan.” Cayne shook his head. “It was…

unsteady.” Julia smiled as he helped her out of the bed. * Jacquie’s apartment smelled like mint and tea. The Swosen leader, wearing a loose white blouse and a long braid, was already seated on the small couch, and on the glass coffee table was a platter with three mugs of steaming tea and one cup of water. She glanced at the two of them, again with that curious look—like she’d never seen a Nephilim and a Chosen together before (and, okay, to be fair she probably hadn’t). “Hi there, Julia. I’ve talked a bit to Cayne. We have the Authority situation under control.” “Authority situation?” “Angels. Neither of our sides wants the barrier to come down; they would prefer no one taking a

shot at heaven, and we don’t want demons roaming around. You could call us allies.” Julia frowned, still trying to make her brain accept it. “So they’re not bodyguards?” Jacquie shook her head, smiling like she had a secret. “Sometimes they function as guards for some of our more…high-profile guests, because they’re warriors and we can use them in that way while they’re here. “They tend to be…distrustful of Nephilim. It was my fault for not notifying them sooner of Cayne’s status.” “Which is what?” Julia said tightly. “A friend.” Whew. “Is there anything else we should know?” Cayne asked flatly. “Any other alliances?” Julia cringed at Cayne’s tone, but Jacquie

didn’t show any sign of tension. “Just the Authorities. We have twenty-four of them on staff. They almost always stay in Heaven, unless there is a reason for them to be here. When they are, though, it usually means something is coming.” “What kind of something?” “The troubling kind.” Julia wondered if she was the trouble. “But I wouldn’t worry,” Jacquie continued. “We’re ready for anything. We have a lot of alliances. Very old people. Very talented people. People who can do all sorts of things. Offensive, defensive. You’re in a good place,” she reassured.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN Julia and Cayne emerged from Jacquie’s room to find themselves face-to-face with short, bearded, WoWer Henry and tall, blue-eyed, curly haired, dimpled…Curly? Julia couldn’t remember the guy’s name, but she gave him a tired smile, because he and his soccer game were the reason she’d known there were Chosen here. He smiled back and nodded. “Hi, Julia.” Then he stretched his hand out for Cayne. “Ein,” he said. Hesitantly, Cayne took it; compared to lanky, boyishly handsome Ein, he looked so stern and sturdy—a warrior, like the Authorities. Of

course, she realized: He was half angel. And it was weird, for just a second, picturing Cayne’s father…a fallen angel. It made her somehow sad. “Cayne,” he said finally, green eyes flicking up at Henry. Henry patted Cayne’s shoulder. “Sorry about what happened, man. We got them straight now.” Cayne nodded tersely, and there was a moment of awkwardness in which Julia wanted to babble, but didn’t. When Cayne continued making like an island, she gave a quick smile, said, “Nice to see you both again,” and dragged him off. “So that was awkward,” she told him when the elevator doors swished shut. “So it was,” Cayne said cryptically. “I understand if you’re upset about what

happened,” Julia said quietly. “I guess it’s kind of like…racism or sexism or something.” Cayne shrugged. “Not nearly as bad. They have reason to be wary.” Julia groaned. “Cayne, what will it take for you to see that you’re a good guy.” He looked offended. “I meant because I could kick their asses.” “Oh.” “Yeah.” He crossed his arms and looked especially grumpy. “Well other than being mad, what do you think? About the angels….or the Authorities or whatever?” “I’m not doing any dances. How do you feel?” he asked, running his hand down her arm. His brows narrowed. “Is it getting worse? Be honest with me.”

“Not much,” she fibbed. The truth was her whole upper body was aching, and her head was bad enough to bring on black spots at the slightest movement. “We need to tell the rest of them soon,” he said. “Determine what’s best for you. Decide whether to confide in these people—” he said that with a bit of bitterness— “or go somewhere else.” “Somewhere else?” They walked out of the elevator, onto the red-carpeted hall of the fifth floor, and Julia lowered her voice. The windows were pink with the just-breaking dawn, but she didn’t want to be overheard by a housekeeper or staffer. “You heard Jacquie. They have lots of resources here.” “And they have an alliance with Authorities.” “Are you saying that because you’re mad, or

is there really something to be worried about?” “I don’t know. I don’t know much about them.” Julia took a deep breath and shared her fear. “Do you think The Three and the other Chosen are going to try to break me out of here? Maybe it’s only a matter of time.” “We need to find a solution as soon as possible,” Cayne agreed. “Then I can get you out of here and somewhere safe.” He said it like a pledge, but for the first time Julia wondered if there was a safe place. “I’m sorry you’re caught up in all this,” she murmured. “I am this,” he said flatly. “You were this. You’re not now.” “Tell that to Gabriel.” “That was really Gabriel? Like, the Gabriel?”

Cayne snickered. “I was being sarcastic.” “Jerk.” As Julia glanced down the row of doors, something jumped out at her: a wall-calendar done in fancy cursive script. As she ran through the days, she noticed it was October 3, and her heart did a silly little flip. “Guess what?” Cayne took her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. “What?” “It’s your birthday!” Julia winced at her own outburst, looking down at her feet so he wouldn’t see the pain in her eyes. Even looking away, she could hear him frowning. “I don’t know my birthday.” “But I gave you October 3, remember?” Cayne stopped, and she realized they were outside their door. She looked up into his green

eyes, and he kissed her forehead. “Indeed, I do.” “Can we celebrate it? One last hoorah before we tell the rest of everyone about my headaches? Please, please? It would mean the world to me. Just a few hours of fun.” Cayne kissed her head again, this time on her temple. He kissed her on the other side, feather light. “On one condition,” he murmured. “What?” “Birthday spankings.” Her jaw dropped, and she almost winced from the pain. * Edan blocked the warbling voice out of his head and pushed the girl against the slick tile wall. She moaned, the sound echoing through the damp room that housed the resort’s Olympicsized pool. The pool was closed, which meant

the room was dark, and Little Miss Snow Patrol was getting naked fast. She’d found him as he was creeping back into the hostel a couple of hours before dawn, careful because his run-in with the boy had attracted notice from the Authorities. She’d been easy to charm; he hadn’t even had to try. All it had taken was a large mug of hot chocolate, a few welltimed caresses, and half an hour listening to the story of her last failed relationship. Humans were like that: vulnerable. Had to do with their desire for the fellowship of other humans—most of whom were shitheads. He’d watched their masochistic cycle of desire and hurt, desire and hurt, for the last two centuries, and he felt lucky that he had no similar desire. Lucky. He smirked. Almost blessed. He was, however, more than glad to lend his

considerable skill to the occasional human female. He never got too close to any of the Chosen, and he’d gone far too long in the company of the delectable Carlin. Peeling back her expensive clothes would truly be a dark deed, but the Spanish Chosen was forbidden fruit for several reasons. She was too young, too innocent, and too close to business. And yes, believe it or not Edan actually cared. About business. That old-ass voice echoed through his mind again, heating him up inside like a beam of radiation. …is coming. The girl moaned again, grabbing his hair, and Edan moaned with her. … tomorrow. “What’s your name?” she panted. ...your purpose. Defy me and—

“Gabriel,” he smirked, gritting his teeth. Then, with unnecessary force, he severed the link. Methuselah’s connections were always easy to break, but he had a masochistic side; he enjoyed angering the old fart, and he enjoyed wondering what would happen next. Being divine in a world full of lesser beings was so boring, most of the time. “Your hair’s…amazing,” the human whispered.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN Meredith awoke for a second time that night to Carlin’s muttered cursing. She wasn’t a fluent Spanish-speaker, but in California, knowing some was essential, and as a high schooler she’d learned all of the dirty words and phrases. Like this latest one…which Meredith’s bleary mind translated into Your mom shits on my dog! Could that possibly be right? “MEREDITH!” She rolled over, nearly bumping her forehead on the phone, which Carlin held out like a gun. “It’s for you,” she snapped, handing it to Meredith as she flopped back over, muttering

another swear word. Meredith realized Julia was missing as she brought the phone to her ear, terrified that something bad had happened. “Yes? Hello?” “Meredith, it’s me. Nathan.” “Nathan?” Her heart began to flutter and she bolted up in bed. “Nathan. What are you doing?” “I’m here. Room 533.” And she didn’t even think before she blurted: “Omigod! I’ll be right there!” * Getting less than six hours of sleep was not advisable for someone with a killer headache, but Julia was living dangerously. When Meredith gently shook her shoulder, it was ten o’clock— too late to still be sleeping if she wanted to keep

the details of the night before to herself. And she did, until they celebrated Cayne’s birthday. She blinked and glanced around, moving slowly so the pressure in her head didn’t blow it open like a watermelon. Just Mer and her. “Where’s Carlin?” she croaked. “Julia, we need to tell Cayne. Now. You look —” “Don’t say it.” “Okay, I won’t, but I’m worried about you.” “He already knows.” Julia touched her pointer finger gently to her head. “I told him last night.” “Good. We all need to have a pow-wow. About everything.” Julia groaned again. Meredith had this intense look, and Julia knew she couldn’t handle it from her boyfriend and her BFF. “You people. Okay,

we can, but I want to celebrate Cayne’s birthday first. Just a few hours.” “It’s Cayne’s birthday?” “Yes.” Julia staggered off toward the bathroom before Meredith could ask her any more questions. She was grumpy, hurting, and she really just wanted to be alone. Besides that, she had a trick she wanted to try. Once, a few months before she left group home for good, she’d fallen off one of the donated bikes and twisted her ankle. She’d tried to heal herself. It hadn’t worked, of course, but directing her power at herself had made her feel pleasantly disoriented. Kind of…drunk. Julia started the shower and eased out of her clothes, biting her tongue to keep from groaning. The throb in her head extended down her neck

and back, and below that, her stomach roiled. Her ribs ached and the joints in her arms felt swollen and inflamed. I’m being taken over from top to bottom. When the water was hot, she eased herself down onto the chilly tile and crossed her legs. She placed her hands on her knees, and she looked at her own aura. It scared the ever-living crap out of her, how brown it was, but she didn’t let the fear consume her. I can do this. I need this to work. Then she focused on the knot above her head, and she felt a rush like cool water. For a split second, it overcame the pain. She slumped, weak with relief. Then slowly, bit by bit, the pain returned—but behind a veil of…fuzziness. Although the ache was still intense, it was distant.

She finished her shower, then she brushed her long, dark hair, and it wasn’t agonizing. It was pretty painful, but she could do it. She did feel a little loopy, but it wasn’t a bad feeling, all things considered. She had her hair wrapped in a towel and her warm, clean body cloaked in a fluffy robe when she came out of the bathroom. She ran right into Drew and let out a little shriek, pain dots dancing at the edges of her vision. “Sorry,” Drew muttered. He looked less than pleased. Julia glanced around the room, but it was just Drew and her. She noticed he was already dressed for the day, wearing a plaid button-down and thick gray cargo pants. “I like your outfit,” she said. “It’s…mountainy. What do you need? I’m indecent here.”

She pulled the towel off her head, and Drew folded his arms. “I had a vision.” Irrationally, Julia was shocked. “You did? Really? When?” “About half an hour ago.” She looked at his serious face, and decided if there was one thing she didn’t need, it was a frightening premonition. She held up her hands and took a small step back. “Drew, are you sure? Are you sure about…whatever it was? Are you sure I need to know?” “It has to do with Cayne,” he said—and the headache bloomed like red tide. Julia’s hands shook, her mouth went dry, and the room started to spin. “Drew, don’t tell me this.” She walked to the window. Outside, the slopes were people-

dotted. She felt his hand on her shoulder, but she didn’t turn around. “Julia… I think you need to talk to Cayne. I saw a group of us—Mer, you, me, and Carlin. We were travelling…” He sighed. “I don’t understand this, but we were travelling to Hell. And neither Edan nor Cayne were with us.” “Go away, Drew. I can’t handle this right now.” “Well it needs to be handled. We need to meet. Discuss. Just the four of us.” Julia turned all the way around. “Are you implying that Cayne’s not trustworthy?” “I’m not implying anything. I’m just telling you what I saw.” “Well I’m telling you that we’re celebrating Cayne’s birthday—”

“Today’s his birthday?” “Yes, and for a few hours we’ll be like normal people. And then we’ll get down to business. Is that okay?” He nodded. “Fine” “Good.” She glared at him, and eventually he remembered she was in a towel. “I, uh, I guess I’ll let you get dressed then.” By the time Julia finished pulling on her suede boots, soft denim leggings, and a slouchy, comfy gray sweater that still had its outrageous price tag on it, everyone else had gathered in the kitchen. Meredith was dancing in front of Cayne, pretending to sprinkle birthday dust over him. Cayne’s freaked out-but-still-stoic expression was hilarious. “Julia!” Meredith clapped. “I’m planning

festivities for Cayne’s birthday.” “I ordered a cake for the rest of us to enjoy,” Drew said, and Julia relaxed a little. Maybe Drew’s implication hadn’t been that Cayne was a traitor. But wait, did that mean he thought something happened to Cayne? Captured or killed? With Edan…or by Edan? Where the heck was Edan anyway? She needed to find out more about what had happened between him and Cayne. “Julia?” Mer’s brows were wiggling, and under them, her eyes were wide and concerned. “Why don’t you come sit down and help us select our winter sports for the day?” She gave Julia a pointed look, like if you want to put off talking, you will have to cooperate. Julia was willing. She hoisted herself into a bar stool beside Cayne, and it took everything to

keep from moaning as his hand caressed her back, then moved up to her shoulder, squeezing gently. “I vote for the horse-racing,” Carlin was saying. “How is that a winter sport?” Drew asked. “They race on ice.” “Okay, wait a minute,” Julia said. “What are we talking about?” A winter sports festival. Once a month between October and March, the House of the Gods transformed into an outdoor sports arena, and apparently today was the day for October. Thirty minutes later Julia and her crew stood on the back deck, getting pummeled by thick snowflakes and looking out at the ski slopes. Which looked distinctly un-ski-slopey and more like an icy obstacle course.

Over to the right, close to the hostel where Julia should probably be camping outside Edan’s door, someone had carved slides into the snow. Drew pulled some binoculars out of his jacket and aimed them at the slides, which looked kind of like paths that worms had slithered down. “House of Gods – Cresta Run,” he read, using his gloved hand to brush snowflakes off his lenses. “I think that’s the one where they lay face-down on sleds and go head-first.” “I hope that’s a sport for Authorities,” Julia said, looking at the straight-down angle of the run. “You better know what you’re doing,” Mer agreed—and Julia realized she hadn’t yet told her friends about encountering the angels. “Ohhhh, I see that yummy blond bodyguard,” Carlin said—and there he was. Securing a small

deck at the top of the slides, maybe 100 feet up. Julia heard Cayne growl softly beside her. Not metaphorically, but an actual animal growl, and she put her hand on his arm, worried he would charge up the mountain. A few seconds later, a ski lift released a mob of people on the deck, and the Authority was lost in the crowd. “Look at that. Cricket on Ice.” Drew was pointing to a cricket field—was that a field or a block of ice? Beside the cricket pond was another frozen pond, and on this one, people were crouching down with iron bars and what looked like a red roll of cheese. “That’s curling,” Carlin said. “And that looks like another delish bodyguard,” she said, pointing at the curling pond, where a ‘guard’ with strawberry-colored hair towered over every

regular around him. “Guys, what’s up?” The group turned to find Monte striding across the wrap-around deck with what looked like a giant fish hook. He stopped and extended his other hand to Cayne. “You all right?” Cayne, who had been extra quiet all morning, shook it, an impassive expression on his face; Julia thought Monte’s face looked apologetic— probably for what had happened with the Authorities. “What sport to watch,” Carlin said, waving at the scene. “You have any ideas?” Monte shrugged. “Ice skating, curling, cricket…they’re great. And Cresta Run is awesome. But—” he lowered his voice— “someone…er, they saw something…unsavory on the run, so we’re postponing that until the

snow is lighter. We haven’t announced it yet,” he said, pointing to the crowd gathered around the run. “For right now, I say you take a lift up,” he said, pointing to the clouds, “and watch the paragliding and the ice climbing.” He shook the hook in his hand. “Later this afternoon, it’s all about the dog sledding.” Carlin jabbed a finger at Monte’s chest. “The real question is can I ride one of the sleds.” “Me too!” Meredith cried. Monte laughed. “I’ll see what I can do. What about you, Julia? Want a sled ride?” She shook her head. “Not on my bucket list.” “Hmmm… Hey, are you feeling okay? You look a little under the weather.” It took everything she had to laugh. To brush her fingers over the hood of her ski coat, pinching off some snow. “I think I am.”

“You guys need to take better care of this one,” Monte said as he headed off toward cricket and curling. “Stay dry.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN The ski lifts reminded Julia of a row of tiny metal lunchboxes strung up on a black shoestring. Luckily, it wasn’t really shoestring, because the lift carried them high enough to make her stomach bottom out. So high she got nervous, even with Cayne’s arms around her, and her head started hurting badly again. She and Cayne occupied one corner of their twelve-seater lift. He leaned close to her, and Julia burrowed into his warm neck. “I think Monte is onto me,” she said miserably. “Also, I feel…really bad,” she sniffed, and thought she really must be out of it if she was whining to

Cayne. His fingers started gently stroking her forehead. “Let’s go back down. We’ll find Edan. I have an idea of where he is.” “But Ice Cricket.” Cayne shook his head. “There will be other game of Ice Cricket.” “I’m sorry.” “Don’t be. If I’d known it hurt this bad, I’d have never let you put it off.” “I think it got worse again,” she mumbled. “Let’s go find Edan now. This is the best time, if we’re interested in discretion.” He smiled a sweet, soft smile—so gentle and un-Cayne-like, it stole her breath. “It’s my birthday, right?” “It is.” She returned the smile with effort. “This is what I want. I know you wanted to celebrate, but I can see it isn’t working.” His

eyes darkened. “We need to get this taken care of.” Julia didn’t want to find Edan anymore, though. Not after what Drew had told her about his vision. “Do you trust him? Like really?” she asked Cayne. He put a finger under her chin, stroking lightly. “I trust him to help you.” “Fine,” she sighed. “But if he can’t, when we tell Drew and Carlin…” She shook her head, feeling unable to express her thoughts. “When we tell Drew and Carlin, what?” “I don’t want to give up my autonomy for the group. Any choice we make—it should be mostly mine. Even if it does impact everyone.” Cayne nodded. “I’m on your side. Always.” Despite their plans to go back down, they filed

off at the top of the mountain, because the others had filed off the lift before Julia got a chance to mention her plans to them. It was windy and thick with snowflakes. Julia saw the sharp cliff, below which ice climbers waited, as well as a ledge where people were jumping off with gliders that seemed equipped for the snow. There was a little hut where music played, and under its roof a bonfire burned. Julia pushed through a group of men and grabbed Mer’s jacket, and her friend knew what was happening without needed to be told. “Do you want me to come with you?” “That’s okay. Cayne will be with me.” “What do you want me to tell the others?” Drew and Carlin had spotted Jacquie and were walking her way. “Time alone,” Julia said with effort.

“Okay. Find Edan. If it doesn’t work, we’ll do something else. Anything you want, okay?” Julia nodded, and Cayne helped her back into the lift. It was empty except for them, so Cayne took her hands gently and pulled her between his legs. “Closer,” he murmured, pulling her against his chest. “I want you close.” She leaned against him, resting her palms on his thick shoulders. She had just closed her eyes when a gust of cold air flipped her hair back and she turned to see an Authority step in. She hadn’t seen him before, but he was obviously one of them: beautiful and uncommonly tall and thick, with strong arms and chestnut brown hair that reminded her of Edan’s. He slid onto the bench on the other side of the lift without a word. Julia saw Cayne’s face tighten, and then the lift was moving.

For at least a minute there was nothing but the soft thrum of the motor as it carried them down. The snow billowed in a fluffy cloud outside the glass, and as the lift propelled them through the air, their breaths began to fog the windows. Despite her pain, despite her exhaustion, Julia found herself angling her body to stare at the Authority. She simply couldn’t help it. He was fiercely beautiful, awesome in the most literal sense of the word. With his show-stopping blue eyes, chiseled lips, stubble-rough jaw, and impossibly cut body, he looked like…a demigod. Which she guessed he kind of was. She felt like a traitor to Cayne, whose arms were wrapped protectively around her. As Julia pried her eyes away from the Authority and prayed Cayne would be able to hold his temper, the angel turned and fixed her with a star hot as a

torch, intense enough to burn. “Julia, correct?” he asked, in a voice that was totally accentless. She nodded, heart thumping. “Who are you?” “You can call me…Michael.” Cayne tensed, and the authority smiled. “Not my real name. But easy for you to speak.” His eyes, still on hers, seemed to be speaking in a word-less language; knowledge simmered in them—knowledge and a profound thoughtfulness. She had the sense that he was deliberately ignoring Cayne, focusing only on her. “I am here to warn you.” While he stared through her and the words sank in like poison, Cayne tensed beside her, poised for trouble. But that was impossible to imagine. Everything about the Authority exuded calm control. “Did you know that you are the subject of

Methuselah’s designs?” Cayne leaned forward, hands on his knees. “She doesn’t need to know anything from you.” “I am here to tell her,” Michael said simply. “Tell me what?” Julia said. It was all she could do not to walk across the moving floor and kneel at the Authority’s snow-caked leather boots. “You are meant to be a human sacrifice.” Julia shuddered, suddenly less enthralled with the Authority’s beauty. “I already picked up on that.” “But do you know who will deliver the killing blow?” Julia shook her head. “He will,” the angel said, and he pointed at Cayne. Cayne was up in an instant, moving toward the Authority. “I don’t know who you got your

information from, but you’re wrong. I’d cut out my own heart before I’d harm a single hair on her head.” “And yet…” The angel’s long, strong fingers met, forming a steeple. “And yet, what?” Cayne demanded. Julia’s pulse was thundering because now he was standing over the angel, who was looking up at him with a certain…energy. “And yet.” The angel’s mouth twisted in a smirk. Neither he nor Cayne moved as the two waged some silent war. “Your presence wreaks havoc here. You will be its demise.” “Have you told Jacquie any of this?” Cayne asked, quietly. “It’s not her time,” the angel said. “But she will know. Soon.”

Julia was shaking when the doors opened and “Michael” sauntered out. Moving stiffly, Cayne grabbed her hand and pulled her to the crowd. “I know where Edan is. We need to go there now. Force him to heal you. Leave.” Julia thought of Drew’s vision and felt her eyes sting with tears; she didn’t want to go see Edan. “What’s going on?” she cried, lowering her voice when a woman in a blue snow suit stared. “Why does the Authority think that? Have you been hiding something from me?” “I’m not hiding anything. I don’t know what he was talking about.” Cayne sounded as angry as she felt, and his hand around hers was heavy as an iron band as they pushed through a crowd of children sheltering under a snow awning. He pulled her into the main building and led

her down one of the rounded, red-carpeted hallways, which grew less crowded with each step away from the madness on the porch. When the hall cleared completely and Cayne pushed through the door into a stairwell, Julia jerked her hand from his. “So The One has to sacrifice themself, and you’re supposedly involved, and you’ve never heard anything about it ever? I want to believe you, but…” “I don’t know anything, and I don’t care what some angel says about anything. I would never, ever, ever hurt you, and I won’t let you be some sacrifice! I’ll die first!” “It sounds like maybe you can’t help it!” “I can and I will, once we get to Edan. I’ll get this figured out.” “Where is he?”

“He’s downstairs, not too far,” Cayne growled. “Come on.” Once again, Cayne was pulling her, but this time he was gentler. She could see his aura burning with emotion: anger, fear, and love were bold flames; her mind’s eye found his love and focused on it. “I’m scared,” she confessed. His strong fingers pressed against her smaller, thinner, colder ones, and for not the first time, Julia felt like she was fading away, disappearing, dying, while Cayne raged with life. They had reached the bottom of the stairwell, and Cayne’s hand was on the heavy, metal door that led into the basement, when he turned around so quickly Julia gasped. His body was coiled, his face taut, so at first she expected something rough. His hands plunged into her hair,

his head snapped down, his hot mouth covering her own—but what came after was a gentle rain: his mouth on hers, warm velvet, and his lips brushing, his tongue caressing, his fingers stroking gently through her hair. “Julia….” And it shocked her, the bleeding wound of the word. The way he brought her tight against. “Oh…” It felt amazing, leaning on him. Sagging against him, knowing that his hands would keep her on her feet. It felt so good, just letting go. She shut her eyes and exhaled slowly, and when she tried to hug him tight, at first she didn’t realize that she couldn’t feel her right hand. All she felt was Cayne, so warm and sturdy. Cayne, wrapped around her like a blanket. Her fingertips dragged against the fabric of his ski coat, and the epiphany exploded in her brain:

she could feel the texture only bluntly, like the pressure of a dentist’s fingers on a numb mouth. For the first time, maybe ever, she grabbed the reins of her emotions in a firm hand—a very numb, but very firm hand—and she simply shut them down. Using her left hand, she rubbed her right shoulder and eased the hand into her coat pocket, holding Cayne’s gaze as she did. She wouldn’t tell him this right now, not with that haunted look in his eyes. His arms were roving over her, wiping tears that dampened her cheeks. “S-sorry,” she said. “I think I got overwhelmed.” It was like a car-crash, realizing that her fingers wouldn’t work. That whole arm wouldn’t work. But she gritted her teeth, and she tipped

her forehead to Cayne’s coat and let him hold her, rubbing circles on her back before he turned around and led her through the basement door. The sharp detergent smell reminded Julia of Floating, and further back, of being in group home, in the laundry closet. “It’s okay,” he murmured, holding her to his side, their steps in perfect sync despite his much longer legs. “Here he is.” Cayne pushed through a gray door with a window on the top, and they found Edan sitting in a plastic chair beside a row of bright white washers and dryers. Julia’s eyes found his, but his gaze was locked on Cayne’s. “I can’t help her. I told you it would go too far for me.” “It’s only been a day.”

“I have no control over how fast it takes hold.” Edan was on his feet, glancing over at Julia, tipping his head fractionally before stuffing his hands in the pockets of his pants and sucking back a deep breath. “Last time was like warming someone cold to prevent frostbite. It hadn’t sunk in.” Edan’s eyes met Cayne’s and held. “This time, the tissue’s dead. It’s too late.” Instead of feeling fear, Julia simply watched Cayne’s face—the war there. The wanting, oh so much, to grab Edan by the neck and squeeze. The way he swallowed, shifted, rubbed his jaw. “Are you telling me,” he gritted, “there’s nothing you can do?” Edan held his arms out. “It’s moving fast.” He held Cayne’s gaze for just a second before his eyes swung to Julia’s, full of regret. “Going to them is the only option.”

“You mean going to The Three.” “Going to The Three.” He nodded. Now Cayne stepped toward Edan, blocking his escape. “You need to try.” Edan’s hands went out, the classic ‘not me’ stance. His eyes flickered up to something above Julia’s head, and she thought she heard a soft tapping. “That’s my call. I’ve gotta go.” And the suddenly, he was gone. Cayne’s mouth fell open. “How—what?” “Cayne,” Julia whispered, and then she crumpled. He caught her, and the tapping sound grew louder, turning into footsteps. She looked past Cayne’s arm and saw the door open. Monte walked in. “I can help you,” he said.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN Meredith stepped out of the elevator, glancing up and down the rounded hallway before veering left—not right, the way she’d go to reach her own room. Room 533 was just a quick sprint away, a little longer if she speed-walked—and Meredith didn’t think she could sprint in her snow boots without falling on her ass. Besides, her stomach was fluttering so much it was making her feel sick. Good flutters? Bad flutters? She didn’t freaking know. She wished she could’ve gone with Julia and Cayne to track down Edan, the shady bastard.

She would have—on any other day. But she had other plans. These. She reached the door and raised her arm to knock. Her hand felt like it weighed a million pounds. Tap, tap, tap, tap. In the silence that followed, she held her breath, praying no one would walk by. The door opened a second later, and her entire body sagged with relief. “Nathan. Can I come in?” Her voice was high. Abnormal. He nodded, opening the door wider. “Come on.” God, it was weird to see him here. He was wearing olive green pants made of coarse material; they looked like hiking pants, if that could be believed. And over that, a black fleece Northface jacket. Nathan in Northface. What

had the world come to? Then he held out his hand for hers, and that was even crazier. His fingers closed loosely over hers, and oh, my, it was a good feeling. Too good. Meredith yanked his wrist as he led her toward the couch. She needed to put him offbalance, to show both of them he wasn’t a Shepherd anymore. At least not hers. Her gaze skimmed his classically handsome profile, his all-American-boy brown eyes and soft brown hair. She approved. She totally, totally approved. He was looking at her, too, and his thoughts were obvious. Abruptly, as they reached the couch, she dropped his hand and unzipped her ski coat, tossing it over a wing-backed chair. Underneath she wore only a tight, lime green t-shirt that said

Holla. She didn’t know what it meant, had lived at the compound for too long to know what was cool anymore, but she liked its attitude. Nathan was checking her out as he sat down beside her. She could feel it. She scowled and sat back, like she was cozier than cozy and totally at ease. “Nathan, this is killing me. Do you know how hard it is to keep this secret?” Not surprisingly, he looked serious. “I understand what it must be like for you, and for what it’s worth, I’m sorry that I asked you to.” “What’s the plan? I haven’t heard anything from you. I thought you were going to keep in touch.” “Meredith, I only called to let you know I’m here last night.” His jaw worked slightly, not a

quiet display of fury or unhappiness like when Cayne did it, but just a subtle thing. His brown eyes met hers. “How is she?” Meredith shrugged, sorting through her memory for what she’d told him and what she’d kept back. “She hasn’t been feeling well. Do you know why that would be?” She was testing him. She knew Nathan; she knew all his tells: the way his mouth pulled slightly to the right, the way his eyes got vague and distant. She didn’t need her ability to see if he was telling the truth. He just looked at her. “Maybe a virus? After being in the protection of the compound…” He shrugged, and Meredith felt a little sorry for him. “Nathan, I don’t think it’s that. If she’s really The One, the way you say… I think it’s something The Three did.” If he knew about the leash, his face would

show it. She waited, noticing the stubble on his cheeks and chin, thinking how he’d have probably charmed a lot of girls looking for a ‘good’ guy had he gone to high school. If he didn’t turn them off by being on debate team.. “I don’t think so,” he said decisively. “Like I said, they want her back. That’s why they sent me here. Have you talked to her?” Meredith shook her head. “Like I told you… I really don’t think she will. And I don’t think she should. Nathan, no one but you has even met The Three. Why would Julia trust them? Why should she? I know I don’t. And…listen: There’s something I haven’t told you.” Nathan listened intently as she explained about the leash, deciding at the last minute not to reveal who had told them about it; she just said ‘someone we’ve met.’

As soon as she was over, he was on feet, shaking his head. “There’s no way. They wouldn’t harm her.” “This hurt is a headache. A really bad one, but just a headache. You really don’t think they would do that to get her back? If, like you keep saying, this is ‘a war.’” Nathan shook his head. “They don’t need that. They know I won’t fail.” In the old days, Meredith would have scoffed at his classic Hero Nathan-ness. Now she gently shook her head. “I don’t think you can get her to go back.” Nathan’s mouth pressed flat. “I haven’t even had a chance to try. Do you think you can get me that? Get me in to talk to her without anybody going to the people here and branding me as some kind of…some kind of outsider?”

“I don’t know.” She slumped, feeling horribly torn. “Why don’t you believe me? Why do you think they’re so good?: But she already knew the answer. Nathan was practically born at the compound. He’d been one of The Three’s pets for as long as anyone could remember, a Shepherd from the moment he turned 15. Of course he trusted The Three. Like kids trusted their parents. Still, his answer was surprisingly logical. “Because they are good. I’ve never seen them do anything bad. Never heard of any orders given that would hurt anyone.” “And those reanimated corpses?” He rubbed his hand across his face, and rubbed his eyes. “They’re called reanimated Chosen, Mer,” he told her through his fingers. “They’re not violent. They have no will of their

own. I dispatched them myself. They were completely obedient.” And what could Meredith say to that? She nodded. And felt tears fill her eyes. She breathed through them, but Nathan noticed. “What’s wrong?” he asked her, leaning closer. She looked at his hands, wanting them to touch her. Feeling like a traitor. “What are you going to do if you can’t get her to go back?” Meredith asked. Nathan shook his head. He leaned in, all brown eyes, and tentatively, so very tentatively, so very softly, his perfect lips brushed hers.

CHAPTER NINETEEN Julia’s back was pressed against Cayne’s rock-hard chest, and he had his arm around her shoulders, holding her gently to him. Which was a good thing, because as soon as she saw Monte standing in the doorway, Julia’s knees began to tremble. “What do we need help with?” Cayne asked coolly. Even without seeing him, Julia knew his eyes were shrewd. His jaw was locked. He was daring Monte to come out with it. Monte’s poker face was Vegas-worthy. He stepped into the laundry room, reaching behind himself to shut the door but never turning his

back. Then he whipped out his phone and typed something into it while Julia shivered like a wet dog. Cayne turned her around, so her face was in the crevice of his arm and chest, and she was glad for it because she was weak and dizzy. Julia couldn’t see Monte’s face, but she heard the intensity in his voice. “We can help you. We can hide you. We’ve been waiting for The One, too. We consider it good fortune that you’re here with us, not with The Three.” There was a brief pause, as if Monte expected them to thank him. Or something. When neither she nor Cayne spoke, Monte said, “I thought it might be Julia. She has an energy that was hard to miss. Jacquie agreed—her gift is reading people through touch, and she got the same impression when she shook Julia’s hand.” “Why didn’t she say anything?” Cayne asked.

“She wanted to wait until Julia told us.” “Well, she didn’t. And we’re not looking for help with strings attached.” “We’re not suggesting strings you wouldn’t want,” Monte countered quietly. “Don’t count on that.” Julia’s muscles were screaming, every single one of them. Her senses were so overwhelmed by the pain in her head—pain now mixed with flickering numbness that traveled almost to her waist—she could hardly follow the conversation, but she gritted her teeth and hugged Cayne a little harder, and she forced herself to stay present for this talk about her life, her future. She heard a creaking sound, like a door’s hinge. Then a woman’s voice. “Monte? Cayne?” Jacquie. “I think we should move this conversation elsewhere. Maybe back

to Julia’s room? We can talk when we get there.” Suddenly Cayne swept Julia up, and he was carrying her like she didn’t weigh a thing. His eyes flicked down to hers, and she saw love in them. Then he looked back up, and he said, “We can talk on the roof.” “The roof?” Jacquie sounded surprised. “Have you been outside? We’ve just had to cancel the sporting events, something we very rarely do.” “I want a room with windows,” Cayne amended. Julia strained her neck a little, trying get at an angle where she could read Jacquie’s face, although the straining was agony for her head. “A room with windows.” Jacquie’s smile was small and tense. “We can do that, can’t we, Monte? Why don’t you lead the way?” Monte nodded once, and Julia wondered if

he’d always been kind of a tool. She couldn’t remember. “Start talking,” Cayne said. “She needs our help, and we have many resources,” Jacquie said, keeping her voice so low Julia had to strain to hear her. “If she’s suffering from a leash of will, we ease her suffering. Possibly even break it.” “How? Have you had experience with one of these…leashes before?” “There is an ex-Chosen with us that has the ability to create one. Not as strong as Methuselah, though.” “So you might not be able to help her.” “I feel confident we can take care of the pain, at least. Soon, when The Three have been extinguished, she’ll be well again and free to live her life.”

“Soon?” Cayne asked. “Soon.” “Until then?” They were walking now, up stairs. “Until then, this is a war. Julia is free to choose her side, but I can’t imagine it would be theirs.” Monte held the door for them at the fifth floor. Cayne fell back, letting Monte and Jacquie get a few steps in front. He kissed Julia’s forehead, his green eyes wide and concerned. “Are you okay?” He sounded grave. “Yes.” His jaw worked, and his quiet voice was deep with feeling. “We’ll do whatever you want,” he murmured. “There doesn’t seem to be much of a choice.” Cayne shook his head. “Edan is…we could try to force him, but honestly I don’t know if that

would work.” Julia nodded, closing her eyes, and Cayne’s lips came, once again, near her ear. “Everything will be fine.” And that’s when Julia passed out. * “How can you be sure it worked?” The disembodied voice sounded like Cayne’s. Julia felt someone tap her arm. She heard mumbling, followed by the closing of a door and a long sigh. She shut her eyes, too tired to follow. Sometime later she was aware of something warm near her feet. She opened her eyes and found Cayne sitting cross-legged beside her on the bed, wearing a black long-john shirt and looking beautiful and tired. “Where are we?” She glanced around, recognizing the girls’ bedroom. Instinctively, she

pushed herself up, and immediately she realized she could feel both arms. “Omigod. Oh, wow.” Cayne was right there, sliding his arm around her back as tears welled in her eyes, and then she was crying, exhausted and worried and scarred. She leaned her head against his shoulder, realizing as she did that it felt better. Not perfect, but very close. Which made her start laughing. “Cayne?” She giggled. “I feel better. Is that weird?” He shook his head. “I’m glad to hear it, but no,” he told her gently, “it’s not weird.” “Well c’mon.” She sat up straighter, wiped her eyes. “What did I miss?” He inhaled slowly, and anxiety gripped her. “Is it bad?” Fear made her voice shake. “Not on its face. Maybe not at all.” He flashed her a lopsided grin. “You should feel better for a

while. They didn’t fix it permanently, but Jacquie said they can keep it from overwhelming you.” “What did they do?” “Henry has an older brother, name is Blake. He’s a healer.” “So we’re okay? We can stay here?” Cayne nodded. “That’s the biggest catch. You have to stay here if you want Blake to heal you. Jacquie said they can fend off any attack, but…” He pursed his lips. “Julia, it’s not a simple thing, this place. To them, it’s war, and you’re on their side. I don’t know what they might involve. I tried to ask, but Jacquie stuck to generalities. The things all ex-Chosen are required to do.” “That seems like a good thing.” Julia was looking around the room now; it was a wreck, with clothes, shoes, jewelry, and toiletries scattered everywhere. She glanced

down at herself, at her long-sleeved white House of the Gods tee over her ski pants. “I can’t believe I passed out. How embarrassing.” Cayne laughed. “I can see you must be feeling better.” She punched him. Then she leaned over and kissed him. That was the moment someone knocked. Julia recoiled, startled and already anticipating the flare of pain an increased heart rate would cause. When nothing happened, she giggled. “Yeeeesssss?” “Jules! You’re up!” Wearing her own ski pants and a green t-shirt, Mer raced over. “Can I hug you? Are you okay?” She looked to Cayne. “You didn’t tell them?” “I wanted to be sure.”

Julia threw her arms around her friend. On the surface, Mer seemed lighthearted, but Julia felt strongly that something was wrong. She leaned against the pillows behind her and, for the first time in a day or so, applied her whole attention to the moment. “So...we’re okay here? No problems?” she asked, glancing at Meredith. Her friend shrugged. “I told her they wanted her to stay,” Cayne told her. “Ah. Can we just kidnap Blake?” Mer asked. “He’s a little large for that,” Cayne said with the ghost of a smile. “But can you leave, like, even for a day?” Meredith asked. “Maybe for a day,” Cayne said. “They don’t want the Three to get their hands on you. If you

leave for longer…no healing.” “But they’re letting you decide,” he quickly added. “There’s a better way. We’ll find it.” “I don’t mind seeing how things go,” Meredith cleared her throat, and Julia got that feeling again, that sense of her friend’s anxious feelings. “Um, Julia… I have something to say.” Julia’s stomach flipped. “Okay.” Meredith inhaled deeply, then she glanced over at the door. “Nathan is here. At the resort. And he wants to talk to you.”

CHAPTER TWENTY Nathan was there. And he wanted to talk to her. Julia’s chest fluttered with shock, followed by a wild wave of excitement for Mer, followed directly by fear with a big, fat “F.” “Nathan is here?” she squeaked. “He’s here? Like…IN THIS RESORT?” Meredith nodded. “Don’t be scared, Julia. He won’t force you into anything. He says he only wants to talk.” Julia glanced at Cayne, but his face was carefully blank, so blank that even she couldn’t read it. But Julia was already shaking her own head.

She remembered the Chosen zombie that had broken her arm. She remembered who had left her with Dizzy. Who had been absent the day of Dizzy’s rampage. “Mer—” she shook her head. “I’m glad you get to see him again. I’m like, so glad. But…I can’t. I know he cares about you, but I don’t know anything else. Or—wait, yeah I do. He works for The Three, and that’s not where I want to be. Not unless he has some seriously new information. They did this to me, remember?” She pointed to her head. Meredith’s emotion was reflected in her face, which went stark and red as Julia spoke. She nodded twice, fast, and then she pressed her lips together, covering her face with one hand and turning around, toward the door. Her shoulders slumped, and Julia crawled down to the edge of

the bed, where she could reach out toward her friend. “Mer…” “It’s okay.” She tossed her long, black hair over her shoulders, the tips of it flying out toward Julia, and then she stepped toward the door. She turned back around toward Julia and Cayne. “I won’t let him in.” She wiped her eyes and put on a resilient smile. “I’ll try to get him to tell me what he’s here for. Exactly. What the plan is. If he’ll leave or just…decide to stay.” A tear dripped onto her t-shirt. “I’m so sorry,” Julia said, feeling horrible. “Don’t let him in,” Cayne warned. “Maybe later,” Julia said. “I just need a little time.” Cayne’s gaze jerked to hers, as if to say a lot of time, and Mer was out the door.

* Several hours later, Julia was sitting between Cayne’s legs on the floor in front of the wingbacked chair, having her shoulders kneaded. Cayne’s long, strong fingers really did the job, which meant her eyelids were heavy and she was having trouble keeping up with the discussion, despite its life-altering importance. “It should be me who talks to him,” Drew was saying. “I’m a fellow Shepherd.” “Are you?” Carlin said, wrinkling her nose; she was perched on the lit fireplace, sipping an Irish coffee. “I don’t think anyone’s saying baaah anymore, at least not anyone with sense.” Drew rolled his eyes and tugged on the collar of his purple Polo shirt. “Julia,” he said, looking at her. “Meredith shouldn’t have to handle this alone. Wouldn’t you agree?”

As Julia opened her mouth, Carlin jumped up. “I do, too, Drew. I just don’t think we should give the rat a chance! Why not report him to the Swosen? I’m sure Jacquie would be only too glad to throw him out on his stinking ass. Meredith would be upset, yes, but Nathan is bad for her. He’s worked for The Three since he was a small boy! You know it, too,” she said, sinking back down to the stone. She folded her arms over her crossed legs and glared down at the carpet. “Carlin has a point—” Cayne started. “That is damn straight,” she said, grinning at him and sounding very Spanish. “When you were a threat, you were a threat, and I called threat. I have Julia’s best interest in my heart.” “But what about Meredith?” Julia countered. “We can’t do that to her. She cares about

Nathan. Drew’s right. Someone needs to talk to him and see why he’s here.” “What do you think you’ll learn?” Cayne asked. “Can you imagine him saying anything that would help?” “It would help because I wouldn’t be blind,” she said, looking over her shoulder and pulling away from his hands, which had started kneading too hard anyway. “I think he’s still working for the Three. We all know he is. I think he came here to deliver a message, which I want to hear. Then if we don’t like it or we have a problem, we can send him packing.” Cayne stood up and stepped in front of her, staring down at her until Julia lifted herself up into the wing-backed chair. “What’s that stare for, Mr. Mysterio?” Cayne’s green eyes bored into hers and finally

he said, “You really want to know what Nathan says?” She nodded. “Then I’ll go talk to him,” he said. “What’s the room number, Drew?” “I won’t tell. He won’t talk to you. He loathes all Nephilim.” “I won’t be…disrespectful,” Cayne said, looking Julia in the eye. And, oddly, she believed him. “Please don’t be,” she said. “Let him say what he wants to say, and remember Meredith cares about him. I’d like to come, too,” she tried, but it was a halfhearted try; she was horrified of being sneak attacked and spirited away. “I’ll give him your regards,” Cayne said. He walked over to Drew and crossed his arms. Drew crossed his.

“Please, Drew?” Julia said. Carlin jumped up, pulled out a walkie talkie, and pressed the button. “Roger, what room number?” “Five thirty-three.” Mer’s voice crackled. “Is she coming?!” “No, he is. You should come back. Come back now. Roger.” “Uh-oh…”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE Cayne remembered the Stained called Nathan. From the museum yard. And farther back, a potent memory recovered one night when Nathan stood outside his cell at the Stained prison. It was his final assignment, though he didn’t know it at the time. Samyaza had called them assignments with a snarling laugh, and Cayuzul would roll his eyes or look down at the ground below their feet. He knew there was something wrong with his mentor, had known for quite a while, but there was nothing to be done. He had nowhere else to

go. He was schooled only in death, and to hear others tell it, the Stained would find him if he broke off on his own. They hunted Nephilim with their minds. They blinded them. Clipped their wings. Tortured them. Cayuzul knew torture, and he did not wish to be on the receiving end again. The targets on this cloudy day lived in a peach and white San Francisco row house. “This one is important,” Samyaza told Cayuzul, as they descended from the dark cloud where they’d been hovering, watching the early morning traffic trickle toward downtown. “They have children,” he said, in his booming voice. “All must die this day.” Samyaza would take those. Cayuzul had tried, once, to kill a Stained child, and when

he’d hesitated, the boy’s father had nearly killed him. Samyaza had dispatched both, then ridiculed Cayuzul for decades. It was the one weakness Cayne didn’t try to rid himself of. He would terminate the parents, efficiently. They always fought back, but they were never strong enough. Cayuzul thought about the why behind it, as they tilted their wings and glided slowly toward the house’s large chimney. He remembered stories of the Christ child, the way infant boys were killed by a jealous, ancient king, and he had made the mental comparison before. Obviously, the Stained children were a threat. They would become adult Stained, so it made tactical sense to snuff them out early.

But why did Samyaza seem to pick certain children? Certain families? Cayne had never worked out why, because it never seemed to matter…until recently. He had started passing his nights, the time usually spent in a state of rest or pleasure, cataloguing the faces of the Stained whose lives he’d ended. How they were often contorted with pain for their children. They would plead for the children. And for some years, it had made him want to end them. What about their damn kids? Who was he to care? No one had cared for him. But recently, it seemed… He shook his head. It didn’t matter. Couldn’t. Samyaza entered through the attic and kicked out the floor, wood splintering into a

child’s bedroom, a long beam falling atop a crib. The assignment was unpleasant in the extreme. The man and woman were stronger than most, and Cayuzul wasn’t up to task. Samyaza took care of the father. Cayuzul was left with the mother. She held her baby, screaming, and he’d reach to pry the wee bairn away. But he didn’t know his own strength… Walking through the hallway now, so many years later, Cayne put his hand over his chest. He couldn’t bear to think of that. Samyaza killed the mother, too, and then began searching the home, looking for information about other Stained. His head in a drawer when a bloody bairn thought dead had walked through the doorway of his

parents’ room. He held a curtain rod like a sword and pointed it at Samyaza. “You are a demon,” he said through chattering teeth. He lingered in the doorway, staring at Samyaza and Samyaza alone. “Where are my mommy and my daddy? You cannot hurt us. You are a demon and we are Chosen.” And then the boy had stepped forward, a mighty avenger until his eyes swung to the left, where Cayuzul stood amidst the bodies of his parents. Then he started howling. And it was the howling that came into Cayne’s sleep for many nights after, long after Samyaza laughed and lunged at the bairn, and the bairn dashed out the front door, running into traffic, falling and hitting his head and lying

motionless amidst the cars. And the howling would not relent. So Cayuzul did what he must: He defected, and lived alone, and only in his nightmares did he see the boy’s face. He hadn’t recognized the face until that night in his cell. The boy had worn the same expression —that of a wordless howl—and Cayne thought he must have changed greatly, because it made his insides feel as if they were being twisted. He felt that sensation again. * Nathan cursed himself as his hands curled into fists. There was no action he could take against the Nephilim. His ability, the power of suggestion, was meaningless against their kind, and even if it wasn’t, he had to get Julia back. If he attacked the Nephilim now, she would never

agree to leave. A lot of people would die. A long time before, the fierce, Nephilim Hunter had been known as Cayuzul. He was the protégé of the Nephilim king, Samyaza, and together the duo hunted down Candidates and their families. The Chosen had never worked out how Samyaza got his information. He didn’t seem to torture his victims; in fact, they often killed with a single stroke of his dagger. Dissidents and defectors within the Chosen ranks sometimes whispered sacrilege: that The Three worked hand-in-hand with Samyaza, giving him the names of Candidates from some master list. The One would live, and killing the others would simply get them out of the way. Nathan had never believed it, but before his candidacy ended, he had he found it hard not to dwell on the truth that he had survived when his

brother had not. He could not deny that The Three worked in mysterious ways. But he had insight many others didn’t. He had spoken with them, and he knew the ancient one’s true identity. It was a secret he could not reveal to anyone, and he reflected that it was what made his faith stronger. The rebel Chosen seemed to know who he was, too. But they had never spoken to The Three. They had wisdom possessed by no one outside Heaven. Nathan’s muscles coiled as he heard footfall outside the door, and despite his careful control, the core of him recoiled. He could do this, he told himself. He could face the thing that killed his family because he, unlike the Hunter, was righteous. The Hunter knocked, and Nathan took a deep

breath. Then he pulled the door open. His nightmare come to life was enough to drive the air out of his lungs. He almost staggered back, but managed to stay on his feet. Adrenaline rushed through him, the old fight or flight; years ago, he’d fled. Not anymore. “What is your purpose here?” If he’d thought the Hunter looked large inside the tiny cell, he somehow managed to look larger now. Nathan could still see his charcoal colored wings, mighty things that ebbed and flowed in his murderous wake. They weren’t present at the moment, but Nathan knew they could easily rip through the thin black jacket covering the Hunter’s wide shoulders. No longer bloody from the Shepherds’ ministrations, Cayuzul wore black jeans and black boots, which along with the black jacket made his shrewd green eyes seem

to glow. His hair was short, and for the first time Nathan noticed a gruesome scar near the base of his throat. He stared at the Hunter, waiting for his blank face to twist into a scowl. His pulse pounded, and sweat beaded his face. He remembered little of that day, but the blood… “WHAT DO YOU WANT?” “I wanted to warn you.” The Hunter’s low voice was…just a voice. An American voice with a hint of a burr, no other clues that this was a monster speaking, one able to walk the Earth indefinitely maiming the innocent. His jaw tightened, flexed, and his lips cracked peevishly. “I will protect Julia. You will not take her. You will not use her. You will not harm her or even think of it. You will leave this place, and you will

forget her, because you will never have her. Do you understand? No curse, no leash, no headaches will be enough to draw her back to you. I will not let her go. Go and tell your leaders that.” The leash again? Was he the group’s source of information? “Did you lie to my people? Did you tell them that our leaders are hurting Julia!” The Hunter shook his head. “That’s real. You really don’t see it?” Nathan did see red. “Shut your mouth Nephilim scum! I won’t stand by while you pretend to speak out of anything but malice!” “I don’t care what you think. Stay away from her.” “Tell me what you want with her!” Nathan demanded. “What is your purpose?” “To keep her safe,” the monster growled.

“I…care for her.” Nathan watched the scarred throat work to swallow. “And that means keeping her from you.” Surprised gave way to stark outrage. “She is under no danger from us! We would never hurt her! I came to bring her under our protection. Julia will be honored. She will be the one who brings us closer to Heaven.” “I thought she was killing Nephilim?” Nathan scoffed. “Of course not. Your kind may die in the exchange, because you’re everything Heaven is not.” “I don’t think you’re very well-informed. You should talk to the Stained here.” “We’re not Stained,” Nathan growled. “Chosen,” the Hunter amended, “and regardless, Julia is mine.” Sometime in the last few minutes, Nathan’s

head had started feeling hot. Now his cheeks burned, as if someone was holding a heater in front of his face. His eyes watered and his throat felt tight. “I don’t believe you.” He could still remember the sight of his brother’s body—little Casey, not yet two. He’d been wearing his Power Ranger pajamas. When the Nephilim arrived, Nathan’s mother had sheltered Casey between her arms. “I don’t want to look at you any longer,” he spat. “Go away.” The Hunter shook his head, outwardly calm. “Do you really believe Julia will be treated well? Think about it. She’s nothing but a tool to them.” “And what do you think she is to these… defectors! They want to use her, too! Against our leaders, who have done nothing but protect our kind from you! And when the Alpha gets his

chance to judge you— When the Alpha gets a chance—” Suddenly he couldn’t think. He was looking at the monster’s green eyes and his mind went blank and he could feel Samyaza’s dagger in his side, and he could see himself climbing onto the top bunk and wrestling the curtain rod as he bled all over the bed. The comforter was Power Rangers and the curtains were, too; the show had been his favorite. He didn’t know what it was about remembering the show, but when he did—when he remembered the joy he’d felt watching his family’s TV, in the den with his brother and his parents, Saturday mornings eating cinnamon toast —Nathan lost it. He lunged forward and bashed the Hunter in the face, and when he realized his mistake—his grave mistake—he threw the rest of himself into

it, too: smashing the bastard’s nose, socking him in the mouth, going for his head. It took him a minute to realize he was fighting one-sided. The Hunter had his arms up, shielding many of Nathan’s wild punches, but he wasn’t throwing any of his own. Nathan’s chest burned, it burned so strangely. He had the feeling that his soul might crawl out of his mouth. He staggered back, holding his chest, gasping, his gaze on the bloodied monster staring at him with cold eyes. “I should kill you,” he gasped. Blood ran down the Hunter’s chin, dripped on his coat. One of his brows was split in half and his cheek was bruising purple. His jaw, also swollen, tightened imperceptibly, and he folded his arms before his chest. “Maybe,” he said softly. “But I won’t let you

hurt her.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO Late the next afternoon, Julia stood inside her room’s small closet in a long, sage green turtleneck sweater and a thong, and she rifled through her small pile of clothes, looking for her black leggings. “Are you serious?” she asked, peeking out the half-shut closet door. Meredith, who was already dressed in a lilac cloak-dress with fringe around the hemline and the sleeves, nodded; her glossy black hair shone as she moved. “He said he already has an account, and if you don’t want to talk to him in person, he’ll log in and talk to you through WoW.” “Meredith. That is the craziest thing I’ve ever heard of.” Nathan must be desperate, which did

not make Julia feel good. “I’m telling you, I really think he wants to make amends. Something bromance-y happened with him and Cayne. I can tell.” “If it did,” Julia said, wiggling into the leggings, “Cayne did not tell me. He said he talked to Nathan, I asked if it went okay and he said yes, and then we—” Then they’d spent the evening making out in a vacant massage therapy suite. “Then we did a crossword puzzle.” Mer arched a brow. “Pants on fire. And anyway, all I know is Nathan said if you don’t want to chat, he’ll stop going through me because that isn’t fair and he doesn’t want you to feel pestered. But that he really needs to tell you some things.” Julia bit her lip to keep from rolling her eyes. “I really don’t feel like I have a choice, but okay.

Whatever. I’ll friend his NeSlashwild the Orc man. I guess he can’t hurt me online.” Meredith bit her lip, and Julia shrugged. “Sorry, I’m nervous. My head nearly exploded, remember?” Meredith picked at the fringe on her dress, and Julia held up the heeled leather boots, which she’d finally found under a luggage rack. “Can I wear these?” “Of course.” “Please try not to take it personally. I just have to have my guard up.” Mer sighed. “I know. And I’m with you over him, anyway.” She popped a piece of gum into her mouth. “I wonder how he’s even here. How he got in. If they knew who he was, or that he was here, wouldn’t Nathan be on house arrest or room

arrest or whatever? I almost am, and I’m not a bad guy.” “Julia! Neither is Nathan.” Julia covered her mouth. “Sorry… I didn’t mean it that way.” “Yes you did, but I get it.” She rolled her eyes. “I mean, he is kind of a tool. And the answer is, I guess maybe. I haven’t asked him about that.” Julia grinned. According to Carlin, Meredith had returned to the room only an hour before Julia had. (“It was one-thirty in the morning and I was dead asleep,” she’d complained—as she’d soaked, totally immodest, in the tub during Julia’s morning shower.) “Are you sure he isn’t really here just for you?” Mer’s lips quirked up. “I wish.” She leaned over to the mirror and refreshed her lipstick, then grabbed Carlin’s Ricci Ricci perfume.

So Nathan wasn’t here to stay. He was here on behalf of The Three—and that was scary. As soon as she found him online, she was going to have to tell him to get lost. As for her own fate… Jacquie had called the room phone the night before and promised to talk to Julia sometime today about her ‘options’. Cayne would definitely need to accompany her for the conversation, but so far Jacquie hadn’t contacted her. “Ready?” Mer asked. “Do you remember the room number?” “103.” “WoW?” Mer said. “WoW.” Julia linked arms with Meredith and pushed through the door—right into Jacquie. * The Authorities were becoming a problem.

The bastards were all over the grounds, and most of them were burning Edan’s ass. They’d slacked off in the last few hours—probably sensing a change in the Force—but before that, he’d spent the past few days moving from room to room, woman to woman. The Authorities were reluctant to target him in the confines of a private human room. Although they could wipe memories when necessary, a house-cleaning job by an Authority left humans with a negative, pessimistic feeling afterward—and that was likely bad for business at the resort. Edan’s current beneficiary was Dee, a flighty but attractive brunette in her late ’20s. He’d found her in one of the breakfast lounges, listening to folk music on her iPhone, and since then they’d been heating up a sauna. With a haze on the small, square window cut into the wooden

door, the Authorities couldn’t see inside, and unless they tried very hard, they wouldn’t be able to sense him. Edan was endowed with certain… abilities not common to the goody-goodies or their fallen brothers. Just like it was uncommon to find a being of Edan’s magnificence doing what he did. Well, doing what he was here to do. What he was actually doing was Dee. The woman, sprawled across his chest, giggled, her warm breath puffing on his bristly chin, and Edan lifted her easily, wrapping her legs around his waist and pushing her against the door. His lips touched down on her earlobe, traveling lower as his hands— Your behavior is not per the terms of our agreement with your master. You know your —

Edan groaned as he broke the iron-strong link inside his head. Methuselah had put a surprising amount of effort into that one. Dee groaned, too, and he turned his body on auto-pilot while his mind went somewhere else. Ego-fucking-maniac. It was true, Edan’s superior had made his allegiances for him, years ago, back when his original job had gone the way of the dodo. But now his job was back, in the most literal sense, and if his superior wanted that done, he couldn’t be worried about pleasing that ancient ass, crazy ass bastard who wanted him to — Know your place, scum. He recoiled, snapping the lid back on his mental self-control, and put his hand above Dee’s head, on the window. As she pressed her body against his, he wiped it clean.

Maybe it would be refreshing to get his ass kicked. He was rocking Dee’s world, trying to contain his glee over the excitement that was knocking at the door of House of the Gods, trying to keep his mind like a steel trap, when Dee did something amazing and his eyes popped open—just in time to see Carlin walking by, fiddling with her purse and looking her usual confident, although Edan happened to know she was walking the wrong way; only a large supply closet lay at the end of that hallway. Goddamnit, she was beautiful. He kissed Dee one more time and followed Carlin. * “What happened?” Cayne ran his hand up Julia’s arm, then pulled her close, planting a kiss

on top of her head as he pulled the string to the light bulb once, casting darkness over them. He and Julia had stepped into a janitors’ closet a few doors down from the night’s WoW base so she could recount what Jacquie had told her. “She said they might have a solution for the leash. Something about how if you go with one of the Authorities to Heaven’s gates, all your ‘earthly’ binds are removed.” “Your earthly everything is removed,” Cayne said wryly. “I doubt you have a human form there.” “She said she planned to talk to one of them. I think she already has, but I guess maybe this time she meant like…be ready for it.” Cayne’s thumb stroked her temple. “That’s more good news than bad—as long as the Authorities don’t need you for something of their

own. What do you think?” “I think I just wanna go learn how to play World of Warcraft.” “Did she say anything else?” “She tried to explain why they don’t want me to leave. How if The Three got their hands on me, it would be really bad. Like I don’t know that.” Julia rolled her eyes. “I guess she’d die if she knew about Nathan.” “Is there no Chosen that can spot him?” Julia shrugged. “I’m sure there is someone, but maybe they haven’t looked. I doubt Nathan has left his room. I meant to ask you…what happened yesterday with you and him?” “I told him you weren’t going back.” “And he said?” “Not much. He needs to leave.” “It would be better if he agreed to stay.”

“Maybe.” “You don’t think so? You think The Three would be better?” “No—it’s not that.” “You think Nathan is a threat?” Cayne snorted. “Hell, no. Not physically, anyway. As a spy, maybe.” Julia felt the tension in his body, leaning against hers, and frowned. “You don’t like it here, do you? Does it worry you that they don’t want me to leave?” Cayne shrugged. “I’m not ‘worried.’ I could get you out of here anytime.” “I don’t think you’ll need to. I really think that Jacquie has my best interest at heart.” Someone knocked on the door, and Cayne turned. “Hey, man. It’s Henry.”

“How’d you find us?” “Uh…I can do that. You guys wanna come on? We’re getting started.” * It only took about fifteen seconds of Henry’s talk for Julia to realize she didn’t know as much as she thought she did about WoW. She had Nathan’s character name committed to memory, and on the inside of her hand she’d written the rest of the instructions necessary for them to meet up in the game. It seemed like a lot of work for a conversation she didn’t even want to have, but she needed to hear what Nathan had to say so she could tell him she didn’t want anything to do with it. Originally she hadn’t planned to tell Cayne she was contacting him; again, she wanted some element of privacy. But she ended up getting

totally lost, messaging Cayne, and letting him help her—all while he murmured warnings in her ear about what not to say to Nathan, and Henry walked around helping their little crew of newbies with various WoW-related issues. Julia finally found Nathan’s realm and set up a party (with herself as the leader) so they could talk. She glanced around the real world room, feeling nervous that she was doing this in front of so many of the Swosen—some she knew and others she’d never even seen. Did this make her a traitor? Would they be kicked out if Jacquie found out about their ties to Nathan? How had he even gotten in? This was her best chance at peace. With the Swosen, she actually had a fighting chance of getting rid of the leash and going on to live a normal life.

She frowned as Nathan’s first message came in, and Cayne bumped her knee with his. IT’S OKAY, TINIOTHIEL, he messaged, smiling a little as he glanced her way. YOU CAN DO THIS. Julia nodded, and Nathan’s first message rolled in. JULIA? Julia’s temper made it difficult to type. Be cool, J, be cool. YEP, IT’S ME. WHAT DID YOU WANT TO TALK ABOUT? I DON’T HAVE MUCH TIME AND I DON’T WANT TO GET CAUGHT TALKING TO YOU. WE NEED TO DICSUSS YOUR FUTURE. I KNOW YOU DON’T KNOW WHO TO TRUST, AND I DON’T BLAME YOU. SOME SHITTY THINGS HAVE HAPPENED TO

YOU. I UNDERSTAND THAT. BUT I THINK IF YOU KNEW MORE ABOUT YOUR ROLE AS THE ONE, YOU WOULD CHANGE YOUR MIND. O REALLY? I DOUBT IT. HOW MUCH DO YOU KNOW ABOUT THE THREE? Julia held her breath. A LOT. DID YOU KNOW THE OLDEST OF THE THREE IS METHUSULA? HE WAS AN ANGEL WHO CAME TO EARTH ON A MISSION FOR THE ALPHA. WHEN THE ALPHA ERECTED A BARRIER TO KEEP DEMONS IN HELL, HE AGREED TO STAY HERE AND RID THE WORLD OF THEIR SPAWN. That wasn’t the story Julia had heard, of course, but she didn’t even bother telling Nathan

that. She just wanted the conversation over as soon as possible, so she could play a little of the game and make up an excuse to go back to her room. She was exhausted, and she wanted some time alone with Cayne. AND? WE ARE CLOSER THEN EVER. DID YOU KNOW THE NEPHILIM KING SAMYAZA IS DEAD. YEP. CAYNE AND I KILLED HIM. There was a pause, long enough for Julia to write: I GUESS NO ONE BOTHERED TO TELL YOU. LOOKS LIKE MY JOB IS DONE. IF THAT'S TRUE I WASN’T AWARE, BUT KILLING NEPHILIM ISNT YOUR TRUE PURPOSE. YOUR TRUE ROLE IS THE HELP METHUSELAH BRING DOWN THE BARRIER. HE IS ANCIENT, AND HIS BODY

IS WEAK. BUT WITH YOU HE CAN REOPEN THE LINK BETWEEN THE ALPHA AND ALL CHOSEN. YOU WOULD BE THE CHOSEN’S BENEFACTOR. WOULD. Julia dropped her head into her hand and rolled her eyes, then glanced around, hoping Henry’s brother didn’t see her and think she needed more healing. Luckily, everyone seemed to be staring at their computer screens. THE IMPORTANT THING IS YOU ARE THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN DO IT! THE THREE HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU TO ARRIVE. THEY NEED YOU AND SO DO WE. SO WHAT WILL HAPPEN IF THIS NET IS REMOVED? WOULDN’T THAT LET THE DEMONS BACK ONTO EARTH? YOU HEARD THAT HERE, DIDN’T YOU?

YOU DIDN’T ANSWER MY QUESTION, she typed. THE THREE HAVE A PLAN FOR THE DEMONS. THEY HATE DEMONS. YOU DON’T KNOW THIS BUT THE LEADERS HERE CONSORT WITH DEMONS ON A REGULAR BASIS. I DON’T THINK SO, NATHAN. YOU ARE WRONG. I HAVE A RELATIONSHIP WITH THE THREE. I TRUST THEM. YOU DON’T KNOW ANYONE AT THIS PLACE. I MEAN THAT, JULIA. WE ARE YOUR PEOPLE. AND YOU HAVE A CHANCE TO OPEN HEAVEN’S GATE. “How’s it going?” Cayne murmured. Julia shook her head, feeling tired and overwhelmed. She had to admit, she wasn’t

really even giving Nathan the benefit of the doubt, but even so…everything he said sounded like total garbage. Like cult stuff. It sounded like a line, fed to sheep. And Nathan was a Shepherd, after all. THANKS FOR THE TALK, NATHAN. I APPRECIATE THE INFORMATION. BUT I THINK YOU NEED TO GO BACK TO THE THREE. DO YOU REALLY MEAN THAT, JULIA? I’M AFRAID SO. I’M SORRY TO DISAPPOINT YOU. I’M GOING TO STAY HERE FOR NOW. PROBABLY FOREVER. BUT I CAN TELL YOU FOR SURE, I’M NOT COMING BACK TO WHERE THE THREE ARE. I HAVE SEEN ENOUGH OF THEM TO KNOW THAT’S NOT WHERE I WANT TO BE AND NOTHING YOU HAVE SAID HAS

SWAYED ME. There was a long ‘silence’, in which Julia’s stomach tied itself in knots. She glanced across the small room, to where Meredith and Carlin were laughing about something. Cayne squeezed her hand, and Henry, leaning over Drew’s computer, gave her a perfectly timed wink. It gave Julia the strength to end her conversation. PLEASE DON’T HOLD THIS AGAINST MEREDITH. TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF, NATHAN. PLEASE LEAVE SOON, SO I DON’T HAVE TO TELL ANYONE THAT YOU ARE HERE. At the last minute, she added: THANK YOU IN ADVANCE FOR ALSO BEING KIND IN RESPECTING MY DECISION. IN THE END, IT’S MINE TO MAKE. -JULIA

CHAPTER TWENTYTHREE Carlin was in such a hurry to get wherever she was going, Edan had to clear his throat to get her notice. Her curly head jerked left, and when she saw him leaning up against the wall, she frowned. Ouch. “What are you doing here?” Her delicate brows scrunched. “Shouldn’t you be with some girl?” He held his hands in surrender. “I came to see you.” “I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true.” She glanced down the empty hallway, eyes lingering for a second on the door she was walking to. The group of Chosen playing WoW. “Why?” “I wanted to talk to you.” He grinned his Cheshire cat grin, and Carlin couldn’t resist. She smiled back, just a little, before her face became a mask of incredulity. “Where have you been?! Why didn’t you help Julia? She needed you!” Edan tried to look upset. Like there had ever been an option. “I couldn’t. I wanted to, and I told Cayne that.” He used half-truths, a story similar to the one she’d probably heard, but with his sad puppy dog face. She wasn’t buying it, but she did hesitate.

Edan reached into the pocket of his ratty ass jeans, pulled out a chocolate bar, and held it out. “Vending machines, right?” She nodded slowly. “The sign says they’re down here.” “The sign is wrong, Carlin.” She caught her lower lip between her teeth, and Edan wanted to devour her. What Edan wanted, Edan always got. Except when he had other duties. Most women were immune to his true nature. Some, like Julia, were able to see through him, a frustrating weakness he’d given up trying to understand. Others, like Carlin, were affected more strongly. Drawn to him. He could make them crave him if he wanted. Sure, the effect wore off over time, but Edan didn’t need much tonight.

“Car,” he murmured softly, “I’ve missed you. I know it’s not smart, but…” He stepped closer to her, inhaling her sweet perfume and savoring the feeling of her soft skin under his fingertips. “God, I’ve wanted this.” That part was true. And again, the right amount of truth went a long way. She was flirty as he led her to the van. She even called him a man-whore, which really got his blood pumping. He sneaked them out the discreet back gate, pausing only to dispatch the lone guard. He was in a room, and Edan didn’t even need to leave the driver’s seat to kill him. “I know just the place,” he murmured, as he jetted to a sledding monument half a mile down the road. “Edan, this is so bad!” Carlin grinned anyway, and when he led her to the back seat, his human

gladly followed. He kissed her soundly into sleep and locked the doors, whistling “Shepherd’s Hey” as he dropped the keys in his pocket and jaunted back toward the gate, eager to watch things play out. * Cayne seemed to enjoy the WoW-athon, but Julia convinced him to sneak away. Walking the second floor, they found a tiny private deck on the back of a deep tissue massage studio. The deck was enclosed with glass, and it was heated just enough to be cozy without being stifling. Cayne stretched out in one of the longue-style chairs, and Julia knelt beside him, running her fingers over his bare arm. “I can’t believe you don’t get cold.” He was looking drool-worthy in a hunter green t-shirt and his old, beat-up jeans, with some

brown hiking boots Carlin had bought for him and Drew. (“Every man needs his own hiking boots.”) “I can’t believe you do.” He smiled at her, and within seconds, had her in his lap. He kissed her gently on the neck. “Feeling any warmer?” She giggled. “Yes.” She’d gone all warm and fuzzy when suddenly Cayne’s mouth stopped. Near her ear, he rumbled, “Do you feel okay? About Nathan?” She nodded, turning around to face him. This left her basically lying on top of him, but there were worse predicaments. She placed her hands on each side of his face, using her fingertips to play with his soft, short hair. “It’s weird…the whole thing. I feel like Luke

Skywalker, trying to choose a side. And what I really wish is that I didn’t have to choose one at all. That we could just be. Do whatever we want.” Cayne ran his thumb over her lips. “Maybe we can. One visit to Heaven’s gates, and you could be fixed up. You said you trust Jacquie. Maybe you’re right.” “I’m surprised to hear that coming from you.” “Me too. But they’ve been decent. If not straight-forward.” She rested her cheek on Cayne’s scarred throat, and he locked his arms around her. She was enjoying the view, savoring Cayne’s body next to hers, when the slope, with its green lights, started flashing blue, and from the far corner of the resort, near the hostel and the parking lots, a line of cars filed in.

“Did you know there was a gate back here? I had no idea,” she murmured. And just like that, Cayne was out from under her. Grabbing her hand and pulling her inside. Watching from the window as the slopes turned truly blue and the lights raced closer. “Those are Chosen,” he said. And the first light bomb exploded somewhere above them.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR “No Cayne, back to the game room! The others are there!” “I’m sorry, but I won’t.” Cayne had his arms locked around Julia, and as he spoke he tossed her over his shoulder and set off. “We’re going to your room. That’s the easiest, most discreet point of exit. We’ll fly away and if I find a safe place for you, I’ll go back.” “You have to come back! I can hide out anywhere!” “I’ll do my best. You know I will.” She nodded tearfully, her torso bobbing uncomfortably over Cayne’s shoulder, until she thought she might get sick but ended up having an

attack of temper instead. “Meredith trusted Nathan!” “That was stupid.” “She’s not stupid!” “Julia—” He clutched her legs more tightly, not even panting as he raced up the stairwell— “I didn’t say she was. I said she made a stupid choice.” “She loves Nathan! That bastard! I wish that I could go and freakin’ kill him!” She waited for Cayne’s response, but he seemed somewhere else. “I think we’ll go to Russia. It’s cold, but there’s so much uninhabited land there.” Julia was gasping, panting as Cayne burst onto the fifth floor, where she heard his swift intake of breath and twisted in his arms. Adam, Thierry, and Dizzy waited for them,

along with another brown-haired man, who waved. “Hello. I’m Strong.” Julia saw Monte on the ground behind them, red blood pooling below his head. “Oh, shit!” Cayne took off the other way, barreling back into the stairwell. “The men’s room on the fourth floor had a large window,” he grunted. “We’ll go out that way.” He wrapped both arms around her body and used his shoulder to burst through the door. They came face-to-face with a familiar face: Charles! He was one of those reanimated zombie things! And there were others, some faces she recognized, a dozen reanimated Chosen no doubt all killed in the battle at the compound. Before Cayne could even react, Charles pulled

out a gun and shot him twice. The blast knocked him back, buckled his knees. Julia heard a grunted curse, and then Herbert was on her, and two others joined him, grabbing her arms and legs and hoisting her up, like they were ENTs carrying a gurney. She shrieked as she fought them, but their grips were right. They were carrying her down the hall, she was screaming, and then Cayne was there. He ripped Herbert’s head right off then cut through a dead woman’s right arm. Julia fell, landing on her butt as Cayne wrestled with two more. She was up, looking for some kind of weapon, when Strong burst from the stairwell. “You asshole!” She ran into him with a head butt, releasing a burst of energy without even meaning to. It knocked him down, and Julia

jumped on top of him, ignoring the grasping hands of— oh God Anise! Her face was ghastly, and Strong took advantage of Julia’s distraction. He smacked her across the face and she crashed against the wall. Cayne took care of Anise, but Strong took care of him with a powerful blow. I guess that’s why he’s called Strong. Julia tacked him, sat on top of his stomach and smashed her fist into his face, shocked to watch his dirty aura flare around him as he curled in on himself, his light—oh, God—extinguished. Good, she told herself, spinning, but it wasn’t good and her heart stopped because Cayne was on the ground and they were all on top of him. “Cayne!” Her voice brought him around, and he staggered up, arms outstretched, glazed eyes

looking for Julia. Pain lit up his eyes and blood ran down his chest, but his arms encircled her, and though he groaned, he lifted her and rammed through the nearest bedroom door. He dropped Julia onto the rug, pushed a dresser in front of the door, and stood over her, trying and failing to lean down; blood soaked his green t-shirt and turned his jeans crimson, making her stomach churn and her lips quiver. “Julia…?” He panted. “Are you…okay?” She nodded. “Yes! Are you? What can I do?” He shook his head. “Be fine.” His mouth pulled up on one corner, and she felt heartbreakingly sure he was trying to give her a reassuring smile. “Just…come with me. No…arguing.” He took her hand and led her to the window, and he just stood there, breathing labored, face

pained. “Will you heal?” He nodded. “You’re sure?” “Yeah.” Finally she got the blasted window open, inviting in a burst of freezing air; she could hear the terror-stricken shouts of resort guests as blue light flashed outside and fists banged on their door and suddenly Dizzy’s voice was there out in the hall, shouting Julia’s name. Cayne’s huge wings came out, and they were fine and unhurt—of course!—and he already seemed a little less winded as he scooped her up, leaned through the window, and pushed out into the night. “Fly over the resort first! Don’t leave!” But Cayne was swooping across the snow-

covered lawn. He spun in place briefly, giving Julia a horrifying glimpse of the resort going down like a sinking ship. One of the domes had collapsed; below them, dozens of people were moving like angry ants in the snow. “I’m sorry,” Cayne said, and Julia felt him reposition so he could carry her away. But before he could get far, she heard a mighty boom and felt a whoosh of air as Cayne’s left wing folded, and they crashed into the snow.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE “Cayne? CAYNE?!” Julia’s voice came back and with it a horrifying panic. His blood was in the snow and his wing was crumpled and he wasn’t moving. “Cayne,” she sobbed, grabbing his warm face and leaning over him. “Cayne? Please be okay! Please wake up!” “Julia!” She glanced over her shoulder, saw Meredith was running to her. She turned back to Cayne. “Cayne! Get up!” Meredith pulled her off of him and grabbed her arm. “Julia! Everyone saw you! They saw you fall! You need to go!”

“No way! I have to heal him!” Why wasn’t she already healing him?! She put her hands on his chest and pushed a burst of energy into him. It left her weak and shaking but his eyelids fluttered. “Meredith! I didn’t know!” That deep, insistent voice was Nathan’s, and hearing it made Julia’s adrenaline kick into overdrive. She laced her fingers through Cayne’s and tugged. “Wake up,” she screeched. “We need to leave!” He groaned. “Julia?” “I’m right here.” She caressed his warm forehead. “I swear I didn’t know! I didn’t order this!” Meredith was blocking Nathan, waving her arms wildly and shoving at him when he tried to touch her. “I don’t believe you! Liar! Go away! I won’t

let you hurt my friends!” Nathan grabbed Meredith’s arm, and she started to sob. Cayne was getting to his feet, already looking at the sky, where several levitating Chosen seemed to hold various lookout points over the action. For a half second, Julia’s eyes swept the grounds and she was rocked by the sheer numbers: so many attacking Chosen, so many Swosen, many more human guests. She saw Adam paralyzing a pretty female Swosen in a skimpy gown, then spotted Dizzy, within scary spitting-distance, sitting astride the chest of curlyEin. He clutched his head, and Dizzy laughed. What would be left of this place when it was over? Julia hoped she wasn’t around to see. “I’m not here to hurt them,” Nathan was insisting. He still had Meredith’s arm, and she was trying to pull out of his grasp. “Julia needs to

hide! The people here are after her!” “Are you insane?” Meredith slapped him. She actually freakin’ slapped Nathan across the face. The best part? He went down. * Julia frantically searched Cayne’s aura for knots, finding none that should prevent him from flying. She spun to Meredith. “Where’s everyone? What’s going on?” “I don’t know! Drew was right beside me, and then he wasn’t. I don’t know where Carlin is!” “We’ve got friends,” Cayne said, and his wings were out again, and he was hugging both Meredith and Julia, hunkering low to the ground, ready to spring if he needed to. Jacquie, her ‘pencils’, and Henry were hobbling across the snowy lawn toward them. “Omigod.” Julia had an awful thought: Where

was Blake?! What if he had died? She needed to go look for him! “What is it,” Mer said. “Blake! What if he’s dead!” “No, still alive. I saw him as I was running— there!” She pointed across the lawn, where the husky Chosen was limping toward them, on line to meet Jacquie’s group as they arrived. Julia could feel the tension in Cayne’s body, but he stayed put. Right up until the moment that Jacquie…what the hell? Jacquie waved her arm, and from somewhere up above, an Authority swooped down, all stark white wings and fire. His arrow struck the ground at Cayne’s feet, exploding and sending him flying through the air. Julia and Meredith flew, too, both landing like ragdolls in the snow. Meredith shrieked, and big Blake was there, grabbing

Mer’s arms as that uptight ‘pencil’ lady, the one with the clipboards whose names Julia couldn’t remember, put her hand in Julia’s face, and everything went dizzy. * Julia heard only Cayne’s name. She thought only of Cayne. Her fear was tinged with fury, so when the pencil bitch finally let up, Julia came up swinging. It felt good to knock someone out. Like finally she could do something, and Julia realized she’d been stupid so far. Wasn’t she The One? Didn’t that make her the biggest badass here? She had never thrown blue fire before, but she did now. She saw the curly red-haired Authority flying low to the ground with his arms outstretched, and she had simply to think about doing it and fire was flowing from her fingers.

The Authority went down like a duck, and Julia felt a rush of sheer relief. She spun in the direction of Meredith and Cayne and spotted Drew instead; she realized he was standing over Meredith, who wasn’t moving, and her heart stopped. Suddenly there was something moving over her, and as Julia raised her hands, strong arms gripped her, and she was being lifted. She might have been carried away by a brown-haired Chosen girl with a slick ponytail and a lip ring, but Henry appeared and he grabbed her foot. “Julia!” She didn’t know whether to kick at him and or jump into his arms, and as the levitating woman tugged her, she was fast losing all choice in the matter. “Julia, I’ll help you!”

Julia shot the levitating Chosen woman with blue fire and fell into Henry’s arms. “Where is Cayne?” Henry’s face was sootstained, and Julia realized in a swift second that the largest dome was actually burning; it wasn’t overtaken yet, but blue flames spilled out several first-floor windows. “I don’t know! I haven’t seen him!” Julia remembered Jacquie signaling the Authority, and she shoved out of Henry’s arms. She whirled around, looking for Cayne, and ran, although she hadn’t spotted him yet. She ran around a few ice-crusted trees, slipping in the snow as she turned, and there was Jacquie. “Julia,” she started. But Julia blasted her with a tiny bolt of blue fire; the woman screamed, clutching her shoulder,

and Julia took a few steps back. “Where’s Cayne?” “Behind you.” Julia actually fell for it. The Swosen leader lunged forward and tackled her. She pressed her fingers into Julia’s shoulders, her wavy hair spilling around Julia like a curtain. “You don’t know anything,” she said sadly. “If The Three capture you, the Earth will go to ruin. Julia, they will use you. You’re not powerful. You’re powerless.” Jacquie’s hand caressed her temple, and pain exploded in her head. “I’m so sorry, honey. This was never in my plans.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX Julia’s moan roused her. She cracked one eye open and saw Jacquie’s face, bathed in pale blue light. The woman, battered and bloody, was carrying her feet; someone else had her torso, and it felt like they were moving down a hill. Each step felt like a hammer to her head. Again. All around them, blue fire lit up the icy night. Screams and sirens made Julia’s head ache fiercely. Out of the corner of her bleary gaze, she saw wings flutter in the smoky sky. Julia lay very still, trying to keep her body limp although Jacquie had her feet up in the air and Henry’s fingers, clutching her shoulders, felt like

talons. Oh, and these assholes had betrayed her. Totally. So she really kinda wanted to just blast them both into the sky. Why shouldn’t she? These people, Jacquie and Henry, Jacquie who had served her tea and Henry who’d just taught her how to play WoW —they were going to murder her. She sensed their intent, and she realized she really was a pawn. Just a pawn to everyone. How would she ever trust anyone again? She knew somewhere deep down that she wouldn’t. Because she couldn’t. Because as long as she was The One, as long as she was some hated, exalted tool, she wasn’t living her own life. She was doing something else. But she promised herself, as snow fell on her cheeks, that she would change that. She would not fulfill her purpose as The One. She would not

bring down a barrier the Alpha had placed. She would not cooperate in any scenario where Cayne was supposed to hurt her. And if she had to die to do things her way, Julia figured that she would. Because she sure as hell wasn’t going to do it on anybody else’s terms. The crunching sound below Jacquie and Henry’s shoes gave way to a wet, whooshing sound, and Julia could tell they had reach the parking lot. She took a big, deep breath. She allowed herself a brief peek at the sky, and she hoped against hope that Cayne was up there somewhere, waiting for the right moment to swoop down and rescue her. Not that she needed rescuing. From her prone position, it was easy to fling out both her arms and shoot fireballs at Henry

and Jacquie’s traitorous faces. As soon as she hit her marks, she was dropped flat on her back in the icy parking lot—which hurt like a motherlover, but not worse than The Three’s leash had. Julia scrambled up to find them clawing at each other, screaming and cursing and flailing as they tried to find her. Too bad, so sad. She turned and ran through the crunchy snow, following their footprints, thinking as she bolted that there was no haven. There would never be one until Methuselah was gone. Her head pounded as she scanned the snowy lawn, eyes darting from the sky where Authorities fought levitating Chosen to the formerly manicured lawn, where regulars were screaming and Chosen and Swosen battled using blue fire

and hands whose gifts could not be seen. She heard a cry and Meredith bolted out from between two bushes. Her nose was bleeding, her hair was trailing smoke, and Thierry was trailing her. Julia saw the moment he noticed her; his eyes widened and he lunged forward, bypassing Meredith in a shortcut to reach Julia. Instead of running, she stayed put. She’d figured out how to shoot a fire bolt, but she needed to make sure she took Thierry out. When she’d killed Samyaza, she’d sent her energy out like tossing a metal chain; this time she imagined a fire ball…made of her energy. And when Thierry stretched out his arms, ready to poof her to The Three, Julia tossed it at his legs. She took no pleasure in seeing him go down, but she breathed a big sigh of relief when Meredith reached her, tossing her arms around

Julia. “I think Adam is dead, and Dizzy got dropped on her head by one of the Authorities!” “Are you serious?” Meredith grabbed her arm, pulling Julia through snow-stacked bushes and trees. They ducked to miss a flying fireball and Julia threw one at a Swosen woman who was moving toward them with a harsh look on her face. “Drew got hurt and some cops came but the Authorities bewitched them and Nathan disappeared, and did they try to hurt you? Jacquie hurt you?!” Julia nodded. “Oh my God, Julia, we have to go! Get out of here! But Julia…” Mer’s lips trembled “I can’t find Carlin!” “I know. I haven’t seen her or Cayne! Mer,

where is Cayne?” “Julia, the last time I saw him, an Authority was flying off with him. I’m so sorry.” Julia couldn’t even feel the impact of Mer’s words. She just went numb. “Where is Drew?” “He’s up here, by the gate.” They fell in with a line of regulars fleeing the resort via its massive gates. All Julia could think about was Cayne. His face, his hands, his eyes, his lips, his jokes. She wanted to scream, but she somehow held it in. “This is it,” Meredith said, as they crested the hill and came up on a brick guard post. “This is where I left Drew.” They rounded a small, brick building, and there was Nathan. *

“Oh no, no, no. I’m not healing him.” Julia didn’t know what had come over her, and she didn’t care. She raised her hand, seriously considering blasting Nathan, who was clutching a bleeding leg and breathing hard. She came out of her stupor when Meredith stepped in front of her. “Honey. Honey, no.” “Meredith.” Nathan gritted his teeth. “You have to believe me. I really…didn’t know.” “Didn’t know at all or didn’t think it would happen tonight? Either way, you lied to me!” Nathan hung his head, and the guard post’s door opened. Drew hobbled out, pressing what looked like a woman’s sweater against his chest, and Julia immediately stepped over Nathan to heal him. Somewhere in her head, she heard a buzzing sound, like maybe they should be leaving, but

they couldn’t leave Drew and she wouldn’t leave without Cayne anyway. It didn’t take long to fix the slash in Drew’s chest, and he was asking her questions that she couldn’t really hear, questions about Cayne, and he was rubbing her back. Meredith was talking about a van, and somehow Dizzy was there, and Nathan was stabbing her, and Julia didn’t care. She didn’t care because Cayne was flying over her. There was an Authority on his tail, and one of his wings looked half melted—but he was flying. She stumbled down the lawn, shooting blue fire out her fingertips and screeching Cayne’s name. It never occurred to her that she would run into anyone. It never even crossed her mind that she was putting herself in danger. She only wanted Cayne. So when Jacquie grabbed her by the arm, she felt a mighty bolt of shock.

“Julia,” she said, and Julia saw that her face was badly burned, “we need to talk.”

CHAPTER TWENTYSEVEN “No. We don’t.” Julia had the option of blue fire, but she was so pissed off, she punched Jacquie in the face—and you can bet that bitch screamed in agony. She didn’t even stick around to watch the woman hit the ground. She ran, shooting blue fire from her fingers, looking up at the sky. Cayne was still there, and the Authority was not. Cayne’s wings were flapping normally, and it looked like he’d strapped an Authority’s bow to his chest—which, to her ridiculous delight, was bare.

Cayne swooped down and grabbed her. “Omigod.” She turned into his arms, clinging to his still-bloody torso. “I thought you were dead! I thought you were dead!” “I’m sorry. So sorry.” Despite the crazy flying he was doing, his arms around her were sheltering and gentle, and his lips were on her hair. “Are you okay? I was so worried.” “I’m okay, but Carlin’s gone! We can’t find her!” Cayne was silent for a second, and Julia opened her eyes to see they were flying over the street. “NO, CAYNE! Turn around!” “Let me guess,” he said. “We need to get the others.” But she could hear the smile in his voice. “Drew and Meredith were by the gate… And Nathan.”

“I’m not helping him.” “Fine by me.” “Julia, I found our van. It’s just outside the rear gate. We’ll get it and pick up the others; I can’t fly with everyone.” “We don’t have a key!” “We’ll have to hope Edan left the keys.” He took an angle and dove, speeding them to the van so fast Julia thought she might freeze. It was a good spot—all of the fighting was in the front of the resort—but the van was locked. “Aww man!” Julia moaned. “Stay here,” Cayne said. “Hide, over there—” he pointed to a copse of evergreens with lowhanging branches. “I’ll get Drew and Meredith and meet you here!” “And Carlin!” Julia cried as he took off. “Please look for Carlin!”

He didn’t answer her, was already gone, but Julia had to believe he’d heard her. She ran to her cover, finally feeling the cold as her adrenaline ebbed. She tried to draw herself into a ball as she listened to the sounds from the resort —explosions, screams—and prayed for Cayne to make it back. In what seemed like no time at all he was, carrying a crying Meredith and a wide-eyed Drew. When they landed, Drew staggered away, puffing. “Thanks and all, but next time I’ll walk.” Meredith hugged Julia and wailed, “This is all my fault.” Julia tried to shush her as Cayne said, “We need to move now. I think it would be better if we split up.” “What!” Julia cried. “No way!”

“We could always take the van.” Julia whirled to find Edan walking out from the woods and smiling tentatively. “What are you doing here!” Cayne demanded. He grinned sheepishly. “When the fighting started, I get out as fast as I could. The front gate was blocked, but, same as you, I found this one.” “Why didn’t you leave?” Edan shrugged. “I was waiting for you guys.” Cayne held out his hand. “Give me the key.” Edan fished it out of his pocket. “But I get to come too, right?” Cayne snatched it out of the air and handed it to Julia. “Get in.” Julia got in the driver’s seat and cranked the van, watching through the window as Cayne and Edan talked and Drew and Meredith huddled near each other. Cayne looked once in Julia’s

direction before plucking the string off the bow and tying it around Edan’s wrists. He opened the slider door for Drew and Meredith, then pushed Edan into the van and told Julia to drive. “He says he knows how to get us to the gate,” was the only explanation he gave. Drew grabbed the GPS, asking Edan for the address. But the guy was leaning into the back of the car. “What the hell are you doing?” Cayne snapped. “Trying to wake up Carlin.” “CARLIN’S IN HERE?!” “Yeah, I found her in the hall when the attack started, already passed out.” And that was the biggest mystery of the night. Meredith hadn’t seen Carlin since she went searching for a Diet Coke during WoW. And

Carlin had no memory of anything after that. * Several hours later, they stopped at a little mountainside café that served milkshakes, of all things. Edan had promised Carlin she would like them. He said he’d been to heaven’s gates one time before, many years ago, as part of his duties as an on-again, off-again ‘messenger’ to heaven, and he promised them all that they were almost to the mountain’s peak, a supernatural post where, with the right knowledge and experience, one could travel to a different celestial plane. “I worked for The Three, but I hate those old bastards.” Which was a sharp contrast to how he seemed to feel for Carlin. Since Edan had fished her out of the backseat, sleepy and totally unaware of everything that had happened, he hadn’t left her

side. He then convinced Cayne to loosen his binds by selling him on the usefulness of an Authority bow and arrow; to have a working one, you needed the string. The guy had even apologized for not being able to heal Julia—and for disappearing. Reluctantly, he admitted that he had a history with a few of the Authorities that had been at the resort. “I didn’t want to get my ass kicked, so I pretended I had other things to do.” “So you are an angel,” Carlin said. Edan shook his head, but seemed so sore about the subject, so no one pressed—not even Cayne. Julia planned to talk to Cayne about him once she got to heaven’s gates. She liked Edan, but she’d finally gotten the point: This was a war, and

if she wanted a life—a real one; her own happy, adult life with Cayne—she couldn’t afford to lose it. If Edan had a connection to The Three, even an inactive one, they needed to seriously consider whether he was worth having in their group. And what would happen to the group once she was free, Julia wondered as they sat inside a sunroom, sipping milk shakes and looking out over St. Moritz. Meredith was saying it was over between Nathan and her. She’d already mentioned once that she would like to see her aunt and uncle soon. Everyone knew Carlin wanted to see her family in Spain. And Drew didn’t strike Julia as the kind of guy who needed any handholding. She could see him striking off on his own, backpacking across Europe. Tears filled her eyes, thinking that it might

almost be over—their little group. And then she really got teary, because in a way, that would be wonderful. They would all be free… If they wanted, they could try to fall off the grid and live normal lives. Still, even with the leash gone, The Three would probably always think of her as The One. What would that mean for her? She wondered if anyone at heaven’s gate could give her advice. Carlin, who’d polished off a large chocolate shake, slapped Drew’s hand. “Well? Anybody else want to get on the move?” Drew made a face and playfully slapped her back. “If I can get this vanilla heaven in a to-go cup.” * The peak of the mountain was everything Julia had expected. The road from the café to the top

had been winding, littered with boulders, and slick with ice. Despite her upset-ness, Meredith had driven, and even the seasoned Los Angeles driver had white-knuckled the wheel. Julia and Cayne sat in the two rearmost seats, looking out the back window, holding hands and talking quietly about the attack at the resort. She admitted, with stubborn reluctance, that she would never have expected it. Ever. “I felt so comfortable there. Jacquie was so nice to me.” Cayne stroked her hand and nodded, and Julia dropped her face into her other hand. “I can’t believe how crazy things are now. I mean, yeah, I might be able to just… withdraw or whatever. When the leash is gone, maybe we can just run off, but…I dunno… I feel like some part of me is still there. We were just hanging out in that room and then…bam. And

Nathan,” she said, very quietly. “He told Mer he didn’t expect the attack to happen when it did, and I half believe him. But he obviously knew it was coming.” She sighed. “I hate conflict. And the stupidest thing is I feel bad about what happened to the resort. Like it was my fault.” “That’s where I have to interrupt,” Cayne told her quietly. “None of this is your fault. All of this is Methuselah’s fault. It’s that simple.” Julia nodded. She got a dizzying glance over the railing that ran along their tiny road and averted her eyes down to her feet, still miraculously clad in her old pink All-Stars. They were driving through clouds now, and she knew they must be getting close to the spot. “Cayne,” she said. “Julia.” He gave her a beautiful smile, those green eyes crinkling.

“If they really can remove the leash, what then? Do you think I’ll be able to live free of The Three?” It was a long time before he answered. His hand was warm around hers. Snow had started falling, which was making Julia even dizzier, but somehow she didn’t care. She was riding in a warm car with friends, and Cayne was holding her hand. They’d all made it through the fight. “I think we can try.” He looked at her. “I want to.” Julia beamed. “I want to, too.” And it was just like they were in a movie, because at that moment, Mer said, “This is it.” And their tiny, rocky road had ended, right at the base of a magnificent chimney-like rock, snowcaked and mighty, wreathed in clouds. “You know,” Edan said, with a low chuckle,

“I used to hear that if you look up in the clouds from a mountain like this, you might see angel’s wings. Sure as hell hope that isn’t true.” Everyone glanced out their windows, and then Drew opened the sliding door. “Well, let’s get on with it.” As the others climbed out, Cayne gave Julia a soft kiss on her cheek. “You ready?” She nodded. “As much as I will be.” The wind whipping around the rock was bitterly cold, slicing through the bright red jacket Carlin had bought her at a coat store they’d passed along the way. It tossed Julia’s long, brown hair around her face, even whipping it into Cayne’s. When everyone was standing there, shivering like a bunch of wet puppies, Edan strode forward and pointed at the rock formation.

“There’s a trail here. Snow doesn’t stick to it. Do you see it?” He pointed, and starting at the base of the rock, Julia could see a rocky little trail with no snow. “And we do what?” Meredith said. “Just go up there and…” “We climb as far as we can, and when we get there, we join hands. The energy is conducted from the first in line, and it can be painful, so the guys should go first, with Julia at the bottom.” “Hey, I’m not a weakling,” she protested. “You’re not exactly 100 percent,” Edan pointed out. “Yeah…” It was true. “Well, let’s do it,” Carlin said, smiling at Julia. “I’ll hold your hand.” She winked. Edan went first, and Cayne followed. Then Drew, Meredith, Carlin, and Julia. They climbed

for what felt like an hour, and Julia’s stomach twisted with nerves. Her toes screamed in protest of the cold, and she longed to be near Cayne. Finally, when Julia felt sure she was going to freeze to death, Edan announced that the trail had ended. “So we hold hands now?” Carlin asked. “Yes. That’s how energy is bound, and we need to bind our energy to go to another realm as a group.” Carlin clutched Julia’s hand, and Julia glanced up to the top of the line. Cayne gave her a smile. “I’m sorry for this,” Edan said. “At least a little.” Then there was a blinding light and a roar from Cayne, and Drew said, “What the fuck?!” For a few long seconds, Julia thought it was a mistake. A glitch in the spell. That Cayne and

Edan would be right back…or maybe the rest of them would disappear, too. And then Drew said, “Right before that, Cayne… He. Well, he struggled. And Edan jerked Cayne toward him.” Then, “Holy shit! That’s it. My vision!” And she thought nothing worse could ever happen—until they climbed down off the rock and found their van surrounded by black-clad Chosen guards. Nathan was sitting in the driver’s seat.

EPILOGUE Cayne moaned. It was dark. He was being carried. “You’re awake.” Edan. “You…” “Somairhle, your spidey sense was right: I do know about your past, seeing as I was there for it.” “Wha…” “I know, right? We go way back, you and me. And here’s the best part: I’m finally taking you to meet your Dad.”

ACKNOWLDGEMENTS: I know every author says their readers are the best, but mine really are. I couldn’t in good conscience put out another book without saying thank you to the amazing friends I’ve made since Stained was published last fall. Book bloggers, Facebook followers, writer friends, fans of this series and my other books…each and every one of you make my life brighter. Thank you for the random midnight Facebook pep talks, for the fun fan mail, for the kind reviews, for the retweets and shares. Thank you to the many bloggers who showed me such patience and kindness during an insane six-week blog tour. I remember what you’ve done for me, and it means a lot. If you’re a reader who’s followed me for three books, I

thank you most for that. Fans like that are every writer’s dream. *

ABOUT EDITING: I love almost everything about being an indie author. One of the few things I don’t love is lack of easy and affordable access to the number of editors available to a traditionally published author. Did you know traditionally published books are often edited by two to four different editors? They have editors for storyline continuity and editors for grammar. Indie authors pay their editors out-of-pocket—and they usually have only one. Even the best editor can’t stack up against three or four, and if you’ve read indie books, you’ve probably noticed that they usually have more typos. As an author, I know typos can distract from a good story, and I hate them.

If you find a copy error in one of my books, please e-mail me. My e-mail address is [email protected]. I would welcome your keen eye—so much so that I’m offering to pay you 5 cents for every typo you spot. (The only caveat is we have to agree on its incorrectness). This message is at the end of the book rather than the beginning because I don’t want you to go looking for errors. (There are easier ways to win money from me. Check out my Facebook page; I do giveaways all the time!) But if you are the sort that notices every error, my apology to you is this offer. *

FREE STUFF: In celebration of Chosen’s release, I’m doing several big giveaways on my blog, www.ellajamesbooks.blogspot.com. In many

cases, all you have to do are things such as “like” the book on Amazon and Facebook. (Only if you really liked it, of course!) You can also win gift cards and swag by leaving Chosen an honest review. Some of the items up for grabs include a $10 Amazon giftcard, a $2.99 book of your choice, a copy of my adult romance, Over the Moon, signed copies of Stained and HERE, and a pair of beautiful Cayne’s Feather earrings. Thanks for reading my books! Keep up with me on Facebook at facebook.com/ellajamesbooks for up-to-date information about the release of Exalted.