“It’s going to be okay, Bishop. I’ll help you.”

He looked at me with surprise. “You will?”

“Of course.” I reached for his hand.

The moment I touched him, a strong crackle of electricity coursed up my arm.

I gasped.

And then a vision slammed into me like I’d just been flattened by a truck.

A city in darkness, melting and draining away like water in a bathtub—falling into a dark hole in the centre of everything. People, thousands and thousands of them, trying to run away but getting pulled into the vortex. There was no escape.

Bishop was there trying to help. To save everyone, including me. I reached for his hand as he yelled my name, but he was swept away from me before I could touch him.

Then it was all over.

Where there had once been a city, there was nothing but darkness.

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Dark Kiss

Michelle Rowen

www.miraink.co.uk

To Eve Silver … the journey continues!

prologue

This is going to hurt like hell.

The grim thought was confirmed by the look on the gatekeeper’s face, but Bishop didn’t want anyone’s pity. After all, he’d volunteered for this.

“Are you ready?” the gatekeeper asked.

“Yes, I’m ready.”

“And you know your mission.”

“Of course.”

Bishop glanced over his shoulder at the expanse of bright white behind him. This was as far as he could go before leaving Heaven entirely. He’d left before, many times, but this was different. He pushed aside a sliver of fear. He would return soon—this was not the end for him. It was only the beginning.

The gatekeeper studied Bishop as if looking for any sign of weakness. “You’ve been warned that there will be pain?”

“I have.”

“And disorientation?”

“Yes.”

Traveling to the human world was not normally a huge ordeal. However, there was nothing normal about this mission.

An invisible barrier shielded his destination, preventing any supernatural being from entering or leaving the city through normal means. Bishop had been told this gatekeeper had the ability to help him breach the barrier—but it wasn’t going to be pleasant. The minds of the others would be protected to prevent any harm, but not his. He was the only one who would remember what needed to be done.

Bishop was positive he was more than strong enough to handle whatever was to come. All the better to prove his worth.

This was going to be very good.

“First you must find the others,” instructed the gatekeeper. “If you don’t find them within seven days, they’ll be lost forever.”

“I know this already.” He didn’t even try to keep the sharp tone from his voice. Patience had never been his strongest virtue.

The gatekeeper pursed his lips and his expression soured. “Do you have it?”

“Yes.” A golden dagger was tucked into the sheath he wore strapped between his shoulder blades. It was all he needed to take with him.

The gatekeeper nodded. “Come closer.”

Bishop did as he asked. The gatekeeper pressed his pale, long-fingered hand against Bishop’s chest. Bishop grimaced as an unpleasant burning sensation sank into him. He gritted his teeth to keep from showing discomfort at whatever protection the gatekeeper was searing into him to help in his journey.

Finally the gatekeeper stepped back. He didn’t smile. It was quite possible that he never smiled.

The oldest angels were usually the least pleasant.

“Well?” Bishop prompted. “Are we done here?”

“We are. May your journey be—”

Before the sentence could be completed, the solidity beneath Bishop dropped away. He hadn’t had a chance to brace himself.

Bishop had imagined what this might feel like—a cleansing pain that would help him focus on the all-important task that lay ahead.

Instead, it was an agony unlike anything he’d ever experienced. He struggled against it, but it was too much, and he had his very first doubt about his success.

But it was too late for doubts. Too late for fear. Too late for anything.

As he continued to fall with no way to stop his torturous descent, he felt his mind begin to rip away.

The instant he slammed through the barrier surrounding the human city, Bishop realized he’d never before heard himself scream.

What of soul was left, I wonder, when the kissing had to stop?

—Robert Browning

chapter 1

“This is going to be an amazing night, Sam!” Carly shouted over the music blasting all around us.

“You think so?” I yelled back.

“Best night ever!”

Sure. My throat already hurt and we’d only been here for a half hour. So far it felt like every Friday night at Crave, elbow to elbow with other sweaty kids on the dance floor.

Don’t get me wrong, as one of the only all-ages clubs here in Trinity, it was a decent place to hang out—especially with my best friend—I just didn’t think it was going to change my life or anything.

Anyone looking at us would think that Carly and I were the polar opposite of each other in looks and attitude. Carly Kessler was a curvy, flippy-haired blonde with a sunny personality whereas I was a skinny, nonsunny, long-haired brunette. And yet we were still best friends and had been forever.

After a few more minutes enveloped in the hot nightclub, Carly clutched my arm, her face flushed with excitement. “Heads up. Stephen Keyes is looking right at you.”

I glanced over my shoulder and saw him standing at the floor. edge of the dance He was looking at me. Or, at least, he seemed to be looking at me.

I turned back around, my heart pounding.

Everyone has that one crush, the guy they can’t stop thinking about even though it’s totally hopeless. Stephen Keyes was mine. He was nineteen—two years older than me—and utterly gorgeous with jet-black hair and caramel-colored eyes. We grew up in the same neighborhood, him two doors down from me. He mowed lawns in the summer. I watched from my bedroom window.

It was such a cliché, really. The weird, unpopular chick with the massive crush on the hot, older jock.

As far as I knew, Stephen was supposed to be at university in California, two thousand miles away. I’d even watched his parents help him pack up his car when he left town at the end of August. I wondered why he was back only a couple of months later.

Suddenly he wasn’t just lingering at the edge of the dance floor looking distant and delectable. He was standing right next to me. Carly watched, her eyes widening as Stephen leaned close enough for me to hear him over the loud throb of the music.

“Can I talk to you?” he asked.

“Me?”

He nodded and smiled. And I, the girl who shunned and mocked romance in all its forms—movies, books, real life—went weak for a hot guy I had a crush on. Whenever I’d really liked somebody in the past—which, not including Stephen, had been only twice before in my entire life—it hadn’t ended in true love. The two other boys I’d fallen for hadn’t liked me in return and I’d ended up ignored, brokenhearted and humiliated both times.

However, that hadn’t stopped me from liking Stephen. A lot.

Stephen didn’t wait for my reply. Instead, he walked away, weaving through the labyrinth of sweaty dancers.

Something wicked this way comes.

The line from Macbeth, our current read in English class, flitted through my head. The quote suited Stephen perfectly. He might be the boy next door, but to me he was also wicked. And dangerous.

I didn’t do dangerous. Not anymore. Even little dangerous things tended to lead to big trouble. Six months ago, I’d been busted for shoplifting—my dumb way of psychologically dealing with my parents’ divorce—although I wasn’t arrested for it, thank God. I’d learned my lesson in a very big way that sticking your hands in dangerous places would get them chopped off.

“Go,” Carly urged. “This is so awesome!”

She wasn’t much help. Carly would storm headfirst into danger if she thought it might mean that she’d have a good time. When she was a kid she’d stuck her hand in a beehive because she wanted to taste the honey. It hadn’t turned out so well, of course, but I had to admire her for … well, going for it, despite all the signs not to. She didn’t second-guess herself. She didn’t regret anything she tried—even the crazy stuff.

With a last look at Carly, I followed Stephen off the dance floor. I was insanely curious what he wanted to speak to me about. I mean, despite us living very close to each other, he didn’t even know me.

He led the way up a spiral staircase to the second-floor lounge, which was surrounded by glass walls with thin, swirling frosted patterns on the otherwise clear surface. Up here, away from the crowd and deejay and loudspeakers, I could actually hear myself think. The lounge had a couple of pool tables and red couches and chairs. Stephen leaned against one of the couches and studied me. He wore a black button-down shirt and dark jeans. His hair was slicked back off his handsome face. My stomach fluttered.

“So …” I began when he didn’t say anything. “Do you come here often?”

Oh, God. I was normally proud of my smooth comebacks, my witty one-liners, and that was what came out of my mouth? I wanted a do-over.

Stephen grinned, showing straight white teeth. “I’m here every single night, lately. Even weekdays.”

“Every night? Really?” I twisted my hair. “Cool.”

Cool? Really? I was not handling this well at all. My brain and my voice weren’t working in sync.

“Um, what are you doing in Trinity?” I asked. “I thought you were in university now.”

He shrugged a shoulder. “I’m taking a bit of a break, trying to decide what I really want to do with my life. Thought I’d come back here for a while.”

I just nodded and tried very hard not to say “cool” again.

“You come here every Friday, right, Samantha?”

A flush of pleasure went through me. I was totally okay with friends calling me Sam, but I liked hearing him say my full name.

“Usually.”

“You like it here?”

I looked around. There weren’t many people in the lounge tonight. It was the first time I’d even come up here, myself. A couple on the far couch glanced over at us every so often as if curious why Stephen Keyes was talking to me. The majority of kids were downstairs on the large dance floor and at the bar area, both visible through the glass wall that circled the lounge. I could even see the top of Carly’s blond head from where I stood.

“Yeah, it’s okay,” I said.

“Just okay?”

I shrugged and rubbed my dry lips together, turning to face him. My lip gloss from earlier was long gone. “Some nights are better than others.”

Stephen reached out a hand. “Come here.”

If he hadn’t made it sound like a charming invitation, I might have resisted. But I walked closer to him, until I was a few feet away. There was something strange in his gaze as he studied me. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but a chill slid down my spine.

I cleared my throat. “You said you wanted to talk to me about something?”

“So you’re the special one, are you?”

That was the last thing I expected him to say. “Special?”

“That’s what she said. That’s why she wants me to do this. I normally wouldn’t, since you’re so young.”

She? She who? I frowned at him. “I’m seventeen.”

“Exactly. That’s young.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Trust me, Samantha. It is.”

He slid his arm around my waist so that his hand rested at the small of my back, and he drew me closer to him. His touch sank into me, cool against my hot skin.

It was suddenly difficult for me to breathe. “Who said I’m special?”

He didn’t answer. When I looked up at him I realized he was leaning closer to me, closer and closer, and then his lips brushed against mine. I gasped and he pulled back a little.

“Is this okay?” he asked. “May I kiss you?”

My cheeks warmed. “I … um …”

He spoke softly into my ear. “I should warn you, it’s a very dangerous kiss. It’ll change your life forever, so you have to want it.”

If I wasn’t feeling so flustered, I might have thought he was being cocky. I mean, please. A kiss that could change my life forever?

But I kind of believed him. And after months of trying to be a perfect angel after the shoplifting incident, I wanted to push the edges of my comfort zone just a little bit.

And this was special—a boy I liked who might like me in return. I couldn’t just walk away.

This time I kissed him, tangling my fingers into his black hair and pulling his mouth toward mine as if I couldn’t resist. I hadn’t kissed many boys before, so I hoped I was doing it right. It felt right. In fact, it felt really right. My lips parted as the kiss deepened. His fingers dug into my waist. This felt like something out of a movie—one of the romantic ones I never watched because they made me feel uncomfortable. I didn’t want to try to relate to all of those emotions, those declarations of love and eternal devotion. I mean, spare me the drama.

“You’re delicious,” Stephen whispered before he kissed me again and my heart felt like it was pounding right out of my chest.

And then it got weird.

The cool sensation from his touch turned icy and spread to the kiss, and I shivered. That iciness slid down my throat to my stomach and branched out to my arms and legs, chilling my entire body. Goose bumps formed on my arms. Dizziness swirled through me. It was jarring, but I couldn’t exactly say it felt bad. It was exciting, a rush, like being on a roller coaster in the middle of winter.

I lost track of time. Nothing existed for me except Stephen. His lips never left mine—and I never wanted them to. Minutes, hours, I didn’t know how long it was that he kissed me. All I knew was that I couldn’t stop kissing him even if I wanted to.

But then, finally, he stopped kissing me. He held my face between his hands and stared at me for a heavy moment. His eyes looked very dark in the shadows up here. “Sorry, kid. Really.”

Then he let go of me and walked away.

Kid?

Time slowed to a crawl as he disappeared down the stairs, the dance music becoming a hollow echo in my ears. My face burned even though my chest now felt like ice.

The scent of sweat mixed with perfume slowly pulled me out of my daze. To my left I could see the multicolored lights above the dance floor. Even up here, the ground shook with the force of all the kids stomping down there.

Carly appeared at the top of the stairs and approached me, glancing back in the direction Stephen had gone. “Sam! What happened?”

I tried to find my voice. “Stephen Keyes kissed me.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh, my God! You’re so lucky!”

He’d kissed me. And then he’d called me a kid and walked away.

“Lucky,” I repeated, just before my eyes rolled back, my knees gave out and everything went black.

chapter 2

In my dream, something moved beneath me, twisting around my ankles like long, cold fingers. I didn’t know what it was, but the thought of being dragged down into the black, bottomless hole terrified me. Before it took hold of me completely, someone grabbed my hand.

Frantically I looked up to see a boy. I couldn’t see him very well since it was so dark, but he was definitely not Stephen.

“Hold on!” His eyes were blue—so blue that they seemed to glow. He was the only thing keeping me from whatever was trying to pull me downward.

I tried to concentrate on his face but still couldn’t see him clearly—only his eyes, which burned into me with their strange light.

“They were wrong, Samantha.” His voice broke as he said my name. “It never should have been me. This is the proof.”

“What?”

“I’m not strong enough for this.” His grip on me loosened. “I’ve failed you. I’ve failed everyone. It—it’s all over.”

“No—don’t let go! Don’t let—”

The next moment, I slipped out of his grasp and fell, screaming, into the bottomless darkness.

“Sam! Wake up!” Carly sounded a million miles away.

My eyelids fluttered open and it took a moment for everything to come into focus. I lay on a red couch on my back and I was staring up at my best friend.

She punched me in the shoulder.

“Don’t do that!” Her thin brows drew together. “You just freaked me out! Did you eat today? I have a Snickers bar in my purse if you need it.”

“No … I’m okay.” I sat up and ran a hand through my hair, forcing my way through a tangle. “What happened?”

“Stephen Keyes kissed you and then you totally passed out for a minute—not that I blame you. That must have been some kiss. Are you really okay?”

How embarrassing. After being kissed by the hottest guy in Trinity, I’d passed out right in front of everyone up here. Several of the other kids had drawn closer to get a look at me. “I was only out for a minute?”

“Yeah. Any longer and I would have called for help.” Her cell phone was in her hand, its screen lit up as if she’d been about to make a distress call. She looked over her shoulder at the others gathered nearby. “She’s okay now. Back off and give her some air.”

They did, their curiosity about the girl who fainted leaving as quickly as it had arrived.

I watched them go back to their couches and chairs, talking amongst themselves. Then I scanned the rest of the lounge with growing dismay at the idea that I’d fainted. I never fainted. “Did Stephen see what happened?”

She glanced over her shoulder. “I don’t think so. He took off. What did you two talk about?”

Our short conversation was now a blur. “Nothing, really. I don’t even know why he wanted to talk to me in the first place. He brought me up here, said I was special or something and then he kissed me.”

Her worried look shifted to one of happiness. “So awesome.”

I cringed. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Stephen Keyes kisses you, you swoon like some girl in an old movie and you’re trying to tell me it’s not a big deal?”

“If it was that big of a deal, he wouldn’t have just walked away.” I wasn’t going to let myself be too disappointed by that, but my throat felt thick and my eyes burned. He’d even apologized. Maybe he was sorry that he didn’t find me very interesting or attractive, or maybe he was sorry that I was a lousy kisser. He had said that I was too young.

And that dream I’d had about falling and the guy with the amazing blue eyes—that had been seriously disturbing.

“Can we go?” I asked. “Sorry, I—I’m not feeling so hot.”

Actually I was feeling cold as ice.

She opened her mouth as if to protest, but then closed it, her expression growing worried again. “You don’t look so good. Yeah, we can definitely go.”

“Thanks.”

“Stupid Stephen Keyes. Who needs him?”

Frankly, I wanted to put the entire experience out of my head. Following the wickedly sexy boy off to be kissed hadn’t led to danger; it had led only to the familiar feelings of disappointment and embarrassment. Stephen was the third boy I’d liked who’d made me feel bad about myself. Three strikes. I was out.

If I looked at it objectively, maybe this was a good lesson to learn. I didn’t need any more trouble in my life.

I didn’t leave my house all day Saturday or most of Sunday and I slept in past noon all weekend. It was highly unlike me to stay in bed so long. I figured I was coming down with the flu. That could explain the passing out and my recent chills.

Late Sunday afternoon, however, I forced myself to go to the movies with Carly. Even though it was only mid-October and the temperature read fifty-five degrees, it felt like it was freezing outside. Carly picked me up in her red Volkswagen Beetle—a gift from her parents for her birthday last month. My dad was generous with my presents and weekly allowance, especially since my parents had split two years ago and he’d moved to England for his law firm, but a few gifts and some cash weren’t nearly the same as getting a car.

We paid good money to see Zombie Queen IV, which turned out to be possibly the worst movie in the history of mankind. As a self-proclaimed horror movie aficionado—with a deep fondness for all things George A. Romero—it took a lot to impress me.

“I’m so hungry,” I said as we exited the theater while the credits rolled over the bloody, severed head of the hero. Even after gobbling down a large popcorn with extra butter, I was famished. It was strange. I’d pigged out all weekend. I didn’t normally have such a voracious appetite.

“Maybe you’re pregnant,” Carly joked.

I eyed her. “Highly doubtful.”

“I guess you’re right. To be pregnant you’d have to actually be getting it on with somebody.”

“Getting it on?” I repeated. “What a lovely way to put it.

Besides, I’m starving, remember? Doesn’t pregnancy make you want to throw up?”

“It would make me want to throw up. Actually, I feel sick just thinking about it.”

Carly hadn’t brought up what had happened—or, rather, not happened—with Stephen at the club. It was appreciated more than she knew. If I could, I’d take a pill to forget about the embarrassment of him walking away after our kiss and leaving me standing there all alone. My crush on him had officially been crushed.

“Hey, Samantha!”

I turned to see a boy from my history class waving at me—Noah. He stood in a line waiting to get into the next showing of Zombie Queen IV.

“Be warned, that’s a ridiculously bad movie,” I said as we passed him on our way out to the lobby.

“I’ll take my chances.” Noah grinned. “You’re looking good tonight.”

“Oh … uh, thanks.”

That was a strange thing for him to say. We’d never really spoken that much before. Maybe he was just being extra-friendly tonight.

Carly didn’t say anything until we’d moved out of hearing distance. “So what’s up with you getting hit on today? That’s the second time since we got here. Am I totally invisible all of a sudden?”

The first time was when a guy named Mike—someone else I barely talked to at school—had sat right next to me in the theater and offered me some of his popcorn after I’d eaten all of mine. I honestly hadn’t thought anything of it, but I guess Carly had noticed.

I frowned. “Who said that? I could have sworn I heard a voice, but I don’t know where it’s coming from.”

She swatted me. “You’re hilarious.”

“I have no idea what’s going on. Besides, he was just saying hi. That wasn’t exactly an official hit.”

“Well, if it doesn’t pass, remember to share with your best friend.”

I nodded solemnly. “Understood. I promise to share with you the wealth of boys who throw themselves at my irresistible feet.”

Irresistible. Right. I already had a theory about why Stephen had kissed me, not that I wanted to share it with anyone, Carly included. I’d decided it had been a dare from his friends to go kiss a weird high school girl who had a thing for zombie movies—not that they’d know that little detail about me.

My stomach growled.

Correction: the weird high school girl who liked zombie movies and was suddenly ready to eat her way through the city. Then again, I’d always been too skinny. “A” didn’t only describe the grades I was striving for, but my bra size, as well. Eating eight thousand calories a day would definitely solve that little problem. Pun intended.

Something smelled delicious. My skin tingled and my mouth watered. I closed my eyes and inhaled, seeking the new scent past the salty, greasy odor of popcorn that surrounded us.

Carly groaned. “I can’t deal with him right now. I’ll just wait over here, okay?”

“What?” I opened my eyes as she wandered toward a movie magazine rack near the concession stand. In her rush to get away, she banged against the island that held the napkins and plastic straws.

“Hope she didn’t leave because of me,” a familiar voice said.

Oh.

“How did you guess?” I turned my head to see Colin Richards, Carly’s ex-boyfriend, standing a few feet away.

Colin sat behind me in English and we’d forged a bit of a friendship since the semester started last month, which was awkward considering how much Carly hated his guts. He’d cheated on her at a pool party this summer and, understandably, she’d been crushed by the betrayal. Colin tended to do crazy stuff when he was drunk. One of the crazy things he’d done was Julie Travis, who’d allegedly had her eye on Colin’s broad shoulders, cropped sandy-blond hair and wicked sense of humor since they’d been in elementary school together. However, once he’d sobered up, Colin had realized his mistake, tried to make up with Carly and failed spectacularly. Carly was a lot like me in that way—she didn’t get over being hurt easily. She put on a good front, but I knew she was still heartbroken.

“New haircut?” Colin asked.

I touched my dark hair, twisting a long piece around my index finger. “Not lately.”

“It looks nice.” When he smiled, my gaze was drawn to his mouth. I’d never noticed what nice lips Colin had. Carly had told me many times that he was an amazing kisser. As far as I knew—and, believe me, I would have been told otherwise—that’s as far as they’d ever gone together.

I moved a little closer to him. “Are you wearing a new cologne?”

He shrugged. “Just soap.”

I pulled myself out of my sudden daze to glance over my shoulder at Carly, who was currently out of earshot. However, she was still giving me the eye. The eye that asked, Why are you smelling my ex-boyfriend?

I cleared my throat. “I need to go. Uh, I’ll see you in class tomorrow, okay?”

He nodded. “Bright and early.”

I turned and walked over to Carly. She put down the magazine she’d been pretending to read. Her cheeks were flushed, which told me she was upset but trying to control her emotions.

“Sorry,” I said.

“Don’t be sorry.” She sent a sneer in the direction of Colin, who’d rejoined his friends on the other side of the theater. “The fact that he’s still breathing isn’t your fault.”

“He really wants you to forgive him.”

“Did he say that?”

“Well, not just now, but it’s implied.”

Her lips thinned. “When he dies, I promise to put flowers on his grave. How’s that?”

“It’s a start.”

I wasn’t certain if Carly was still upset because she really loved Colin or if it was something else. Personally I think what had happened stung so much because he was the first guy to pursue a relationship with her. She tended to hide a bit, feeling fat—which she totally wasn’t—and not thinking she was good enough to catch a hot guy. I knew at least two other guys who’d be happy to ask her out if she’d give them half a chance. Instead, she wallowed. Which was fine, since I was a bit of a wallower myself.

Carly grimaced, her gaze locked on something over my shoulder. “Brace yourself for impact. Jordan’s on her way over here and she looks pissed.”

I tensed up.

Jordan Fitzpatrick and I had been friends for three whole weeks in ninth grade drama class, until we’d started to like the same boy—one who hadn’t liked me in return and had proven this by laughing in my face when he learned about my feelings. He hadn’t liked Jordan, either, so she blamed me for the rejection. She’d then decided that she hated me. Because that made sense.

She’d just exited a neighboring theater with some of her equally unpleasant friends and was headed our way.

Nearly six feet tall with flame-red hair and a few scattered freckles on her nose, Jordan was easily the most beautiful girl in school. I knew from our short friendship that she wanted to be a model. A top model, of course, following in her mother’s footsteps. Her mom currently starred in a soap opera down in Los Angeles, and Jordan had stayed here in Trinity with her father to finish school.

She’d been pursuing the modeling goal every waking moment that she wasn’t at school, and so far she’d failed miserably at it. Just because you were gorgeous and tall didn’t mean you were also photogenic.

Did I mention she hated me?

“I heard what you did at Crave on Friday night, you slut,” she snapped.

“Great to see you, too, Jordan,” I said.

“Julie said you were throwing yourself at him.”

My stomach sank, but I tried to look confused. “Throwing myself at who?”

Her green eyes narrowed. “My boyfriend.”

“Stephen Keyes is not your boyfriend,” Carly interjected. “Not anymore.”

Jordan’s mouth dropped open. “Excuse me?”

Oh, crap. I’d totally forgotten the rumors that Jordan and Stephen had dated over the summer.

Carly might not have a great deal of self-confidence when it came to standing up for herself, but when it involved protecting me, she did a great impression of a cute blonde pit bull. “From what I’ve heard, he dumped you last week, right? Sounds like he wanted to start seeing other people. And, FYI, Sam didn’t throw herself at him—he approached her. So if you want to blame anyone for your object of lust’s lips wandering elsewhere, it would be Stephen himself.”

Jordan ignored Carly like she was a mildly annoying insect and focused on me. I could see the confusion in her eyes. “I guess I don’t understand why Stephen would want to be anywhere near a nobody like you.” Her words were sharp as glass as she twisted them into me.

In the answering silence, my stomach growled again. Loudly.

Jordan’s expression soured further. “You’re disgusting.”

“Yeah, well, you’re—”

“Go to hell, klepto.” She spun around and walked away.

The klepto crack was a familiar insult from her, but it still made me flinch as if she’d slapped me. She’d been at the mall the day I’d been caught and had witnessed my humiliation firsthand.

“What a bitch!” Carly exclaimed. “Just ignore her.”

“I’ll try.” My face felt hot. It sucked to have the subject of the kiss—and my shoplifting embarrassment—brought up by someone I really didn’t like.

“She’s welcome to Stephen, anyway. But I don’t think he’s interested in dating redheaded giraffes anymore.”

I snorted. “That’s the best you can come up with?”

“Give me a minute. I’m sure I can think of a better insult.”

Jordan had succeeded in knocking my relatively decent mood right out of me. “I think I’m going to head home. Don’t worry about driving me. I need some fresh air.”

“You sure?”

“Positive. Besides, I have to make myself a sandwich. Maybe ten. I’m starving.”

“If you don’t gain any weight with this new diet of yours, I’m going to be mad. I hate being cursed with a slow metabolism.” She placed her hands on her curvy hips. “Fine, you go pig out and I’ll see you tomorrow. And, Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“Forget about what Jordan said. She’s a troll who’s just looking to get a reaction out of you to give her pathetic little life meaning. And forget about Stephen, too. Seriously. It doesn’t matter how hot he is. If he can’t appreciate how amazing you are, then who needs a loser like him?”

I shook my head and finally managed a real smile. “What would I do without you?”

She grinned back at me. “That is an excellent question.”

Even when Carly was dealing with her own romantic woes, she still did everything she could to make me feel better about mine. It definitely helped to have that kind of support in my corner.

My stomach grumbled again as I headed for home. I didn’t know why I was so hungry now. But I had the strangest feeling that a sandwich wasn’t going to help me very much.

.

chapter 3

McCarthy High was a mile east of the movie theater and I lived a few blocks north of the school. While there were still plenty of shops and businesses in this area, it didn’t have the same cold, gray cement look of downtown. Here there were tall oak trees that were turning gorgeous fall colors and well-manicured lawns, still green, lining the side streets.

I’d lived in Trinity, New York, all my life. After my parents’ separation, my mother and I had stayed in the same house I grew up in. She hadn’t worked when they were married, but since the split, she’d gotten her real-estate license and started a job that quickly took over her life. She loved it, or at least she spent so many hours at it that she should love it. I practically felt like an orphan.

A distant rumble of thunder reminded me that a rainstorm had been forecast for tonight. I wanted to get home before it arrived, so I picked up my pace for a couple of blocks.

Then something slowed me to a stop.

A boy sat with his back pressed against the front of an office supply shop, the closed sign in the window just above his head. His long legs lay straight across the sidewalk in front of me. His hands covered his face. I eyed a couple of people as they passed by, but they didn’t even glance in his direction.

Typical. Everyone minded their own business in this neighborhood. Especially when it came to someone who looked like he might be a street kid. This boy wore ripped jeans, scuffed black boots and a plain blue T-shirt. No coat. I drew my own black trench tighter around me to help block out the chill.

Just after my parents separated and my father moved away, I’d reacted by running away from home after a huge fight with my mother. I’d been sick of her ignoring me and I’d wanted to make a statement, make her appreciate having her only child around a bit more than she seemed to. Even though I’d known that the world didn’t revolve around me, I’d figured that her world should. At least, a little.

I’d lived in the heart of downtown for three days, a couple of miles from here. Early on my second day, some street kids had found me sitting on the sidewalk, crying my eyes out as I felt lost and sorry for myself. They’d taken me under their protection and brought me to a local mission, where I’d eaten a hot meal. That night, they’d let me sleep in the basement of an abandoned house they’d found on the west side of the city. Then they’d told me I should go home, since putting up with a mother like mine was way better than anything they had to deal with. Also, after my frantic mother had contacted the police and filed a missing persons report on me, it was only a matter of time before I would have been found. Still, I was on the streets long enough for bad things to have happened if I’d been on my own the whole time.

I’d never seen them again, but I’d never forgotten what they’d done for me. If I could help somebody like that to pay it forward, then I would give it my best shot.

“Hey,” I said to the boy on the sidewalk. “Are you okay?”

When I didn’t get a response, I leaned over and tapped the kid lightly on his shoulder. I hated to think he might be hurt. “Can you hear me?”

A streetlamp nearby picked that moment to flicker on, and he finally pulled his hands away from his face. He blinked long lashes a few shades darker than his mahogany-colored hair. The most incredible eyes met mine—a cobalt-blue so intense it felt as if he could see right through me to the other side. My breath caught. He was the most gorgeous boy I’d ever seen in my life—and he seemed familiar to me, but I had no idea why.

He was older than I’d first thought. My age, maybe a year older.

His brows drew together. “Who are you?”

“I’m Samantha. Samantha Day. Do you need help? Are you hurt?”

He gazed into my eyes as if hypnotized by what he saw there. I gazed back, unable to look away from him. “I don’t know what to do. My—my head. It’s not working right ever since I fell. My thoughts are all jumbled together.” He grimaced as if he were in pain.

Concern swept through me. “You fell? Did you hit your head?”

“My head?”

I fished in my black leather bag for my phone. “If you want me to call somebody for you, I can totally do that.”

“I can’t find them.” There was pain in his voice, but I wasn’t sure if it was emotional or physical. Either way, my chest tightened at the sound of it. “I’ve been searching night and day. It’s my fault. All my fault. I’m going to fail and all will be lost. Everything and everyone. Forever and ever.”

He said he’d fallen, but I wasn’t so sure about that. If I was placing a bet, I’d say this was either a mental thing or a drug thing.

I studied him. Maybe I’d seen his picture in the newspaper or on TV as his parents searched for him out on the streets, and that was why he seemed so familiar.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Bishop.”

“Okay. Is that your first name or your last name?”

“It’s—just Bishop.”

“You have only one name?” Unless he was a rock star or a chess piece, it was another sign that he was having trouble thinking straight.

“Right—only Bishop. Nothing else now.” The expression on his handsome face was one of deep confusion. “When I volunteered for this, they told me I would be a great leader. They said there might be difficulties, but they thought I could handle whatever happened. It wasn’t supposed to be this hard. I thought I’d go back to normal when I arrived. But this—this is not normal.” He looked angry about “this,” whatever it meant. He frowned and rubbed his temples. “Who are you?”

I felt an irresistible urge to help this boy, if I could. “I told you already. I’m Samantha. So you’re looking for somebody? Is it somebody from your family—your mom or dad? Is there anyone I can call to come pick you up?”

He pushed himself up from the sidewalk. He was easily a foot taller than me, although I was pretty short at five-two and currently wearing flats. His unexpected physical presence overwhelmed me for a moment and I took a shaky step back from him. The T-shirt he wore fit tight across his chest like it was a couple of sizes too small, but he didn’t have an ounce of fat on him. I felt uneasy now that he was towering over me rather than sprawled on the sidewalk, and yet I didn’t turn away from him. Those eyes—they seemed to hold me in place. And he smelled so incredible—spicy and sweet—I couldn’t even describe it properly. His very presence seemed to sink into my senses.

“Samantha,” he repeated.

A strangely pleasant shiver slid down my spine. He cocked his head as he continued to study me with those vivid blue eyes. There was a coldness to his appearance, to the hard lines of his face, but I couldn’t look away.

I shifted back again as he drew closer to me. “What are you looking at?”

He held my gaze. “You’re … beautiful.”

“Uh … th-thanks?” My face flushed at his words and I cleared my throat. “Maybe I should just leave you alone. You look, um, sturdy enough now.” To say the least. I felt an urge to move even closer to him, but there wasn’t any reason for me to feel that way. Confusing emotions battled inside me. He might be in distress, but I wasn’t going to put myself in harm’s way. “But you really should call your parents and tell them you’re okay. They’re probably worried about you. There’s a mission on Peterson Avenue. They can help you if you go there.”

The chill in the air had gotten worse now that it was dark out. I began to move past him, feeling it time to exit stage left. Besides, my strange hunger seemed to be getting worse by the minute. I needed to eat something soon. Even if it didn’t really help, at least it would take the edge off whatever was wrong with me.

“Samantha, wait.”

I froze and slowly turned back to the boy who’d just called me beautiful. Not something I heard every day, that was for sure. Maybe that was why it knocked me off balance so much, especially given my recent difficulties with the last guy who’d showed a fleeting interest in me.

I didn’t move as he approached me again. He smelled warm and clean—I guess he hadn’t been on the streets that long. He smelled good … really good.

Bishop’s expression clouded and he rubbed his temples again. “It’s like a million images are hitting me all at once. Even more now that you’re here with me. All I know is … it’s running out. I have only four more days to find the others before they’re lost to me. But … there’s no one. Nowhere. Maybe I’m alone. Maybe they’re not here. But they’re supposed to be, and I’m supposed to be able to find them.”

My heart pounded hard and fast. It had done something similar with Stephen the other night, speeding up at the idea of spending time with him. But this was different—it felt different. And it wasn’t just because Bishop was a very cute, if disturbed, boy whose path had crossed mine. There was something about him—something I couldn’t place. So familiar. So compelling. Bishop was strange and babbling, but I felt drawn to him like nothing I’d experienced before. I tried to tell myself he was just a troubled kid I’d found on the sidewalk, not someone I should ever be attracted to.

I need to walk away. Right now.

But I didn’t.

“Are you high?” It was a guess, probably a good one. I needed a reason for his odd behavior, to label it so this would make some kind of sense to me.

He looked up at the dark sky. “High, yes. I need to be high above the city. That might help me find them.”

I looked up. There were no stars tonight. The heavy clouds were threatening rain. A bright beam of light shone up above the tall buildings, back in the direction of the movie theater.

“Above the city?” I asked, following his gaze.

He shook his head. “I can’t fly here. None of us can. And it hurts so much—I can’t explain it properly because I can’t think properly. I’m damaged.” He raked a hand through his dark, messy hair. “Why is it like this for me? I hate feeling this way, but I can’t snap out of it and get control. There has to be another way.”

He leaned back against the store window, slouching as if it was difficult for him to remain standing. Concern gnawed at my gut.

I didn’t want to feel responsible for this guy, but I did anyway. I liked to think I wasn’t like the other coldhearted people around here—I refused to let myself be like that. I couldn’t sidestep someone just because they were in trouble and saying crazy stuff.

I let out a shaky breath. “It’s going to be okay, Bishop. I’ll help you.”

He looked at me with surprise. “You will?”

“Of course.” I reached for his hand.

The moment I touched him, a strong crackle of electricity coursed up my arm.

I gasped.

And then a vision slammed into me like I’d just been flattened by a truck.

A city in darkness, melting and draining away like water in a bathtub—falling into a dark hole in the center of everything. People, thousands and thousands of them, trying to run away but getting pulled into the vortex. There was no escape.

Bishop was there trying to help. To save everyone, including me. I reached for his hand as he yelled my name, but he was swept away from me before I could touch him.

Then it was all over.

Where there had once been a city, there was nothing but darkness.

The horrifying image left me shaking and gasping.

Bishop looked down with shock at my hand in his before I pulled away from him. Thunder rumbled in the skies above us.

“No, wait.” He grabbed my hand again.

“Did you see that?” I asked, my voice trembling.

“See what?” He frowned. “I didn’t see anything. But when you touch me … I can suddenly think clearly for the first time in days.”

I stared at him, finding it hard to catch my breath. The strange vision—had it been my imagination? I was shaking so hard that I could barely form words. “You’re crazy.”

His expression held deep surprise. “Not anymore.”

“You’re not making sense.”

“But it’s still true.” There was way more clarity in his gaze now. “I don’t understand how you’re able to do this, but—do you feel it, too?”

“What?”

“We have a connection. The moment I saw you … I don’t know what it is. Maybe you were sent to help me. Maybe they knew I needed you to find me. That has to be it.”

The sharp edges of the disturbing vision had softened in my mind like they were nothing more than a remembered dream. Now holding Bishop’s hand felt … good. Too good. Touching him had chased his confusion away—although that made absolutely no sense. I suddenly realized it had chased my chill away, too. Warmth slid slowly up my arm and through the rest of me. Yet, despite this newfound heat, his touch still made me shiver.

I looked down at my hand in his but didn’t pull it away this time.

“Maybe I’ll be able to find the others now,” Bishop said.

“What others?” My voice sounded hoarse. “Your family?”

“No. The others. They’re … supposed to help me.”

“You’re still holding my hand.”

He raised his blue eyes to mine, and a smile played on his lips for the first time—a really amazing smile that made my heart skip a beat. “You have no idea how good this feels for me.”

I had to admit, it felt pretty good for me, too. Dangerously good.

“I don’t know what you are or where you came from,” Bishop said, “but thank you.”

I felt dazed. “What I am?”

He nodded. “To make me feel this way you must be very special … and you don’t even realize it, do you?”

I almost laughed at that, but what came out sounded like a nervous hiccup. “Trust me, I’m not special. But you do seem better. Not sure I can take the credit for it, though.”

“You have no idea what I’ve been through since I got here. I’m not used to making mistakes, but now it feels like that’s all I do. I hope it’ll be better now.”

He had been horribly confused. And now, suddenly—because he was touching me?—that confusion was gone. It didn’t make any sense.

“Who are you looking for?” I asked.

His expression grew pained again, and he craned his neck as he looked up into the sky. “I was told there would be columns of light—searchlights—to help lead my way, but I can’t find any. They were to be my guide and I’m lost without them.”

I glanced back in the direction of the movie theater. “Uh … you don’t happen to mean something like that column of light, do you?”

His brows drew together. “I don’t see anything.”

I frowned and thumbed in the light’s direction. “You can’t see that bright beam of light over there?”

“No. But …” He hesitated and gave me a hard, skeptical look. “But you can?”

“I don’t know how anyone could miss it. I thought it was coming from the movie theater.”

“Samantha …” Again, as he said my name, I felt that strange shiver course through me. “If you can really see the light, you need to show me where it leads.”

I remembered the story about Carly and the hive of bees. She’d been stung ten times and the doctor said she was very lucky it hadn’t been worse than that. If it were me, I wouldn’t ever have eaten honey again because of that painful memory. But not Carly. She still loved honey. Then again, Carly’s always been a little bit crazy.

I remembered Stephen walking away Friday night at Crave, leaving me standing there all alone. That had been my first painful bee sting in a long time, and a recent one, too. I was still recovering from it.

“You said you’d help me,” he said. “Did you mean it?”

Bishop wanted me to lead him to the column of bright light that he said he couldn’t see. And I was going to do it because … well, I didn’t really know why, but I was going to do it anyway.

I let out a shaky breath. “Okay, fine. Follow me.”

He let go of my hand as we walked, and the chill I’d felt before began to set in again.

“It’s already fading,” Bishop said, his expression tense.

“What? The light?”

“No, my sanity. So we’d better make this quick.”

“But you feel okay when you touch me?”

He looked disturbed. “Yes.”

“Fine. Then, here.” I held out my hand to him, and when he entwined his fingers with mine again, I was filled by that incredible, blissful heat—and, thankfully, no disturbing vision this time.

He smiled at me. “Much better.”

My face heated up right along with the rest of my body.

I’d been certain the light was coming from the movie theater. Instead, it led us to an alley behind a fast-food restaurant. When we turned the corner, the light disappeared as if someone had flicked off a switch. Weird.

At the end of the short alley, a tall kid with dark blond hair rummaged noisily through an overflowing Dumpster. He looked about the same age as Bishop. I grimaced as he put something in his mouth and started chewing. It looked like a half-eaten hamburger.

Um, gross.

Bishop had stopped in place and was staring at the kid with an expression on his face I couldn’t put a name to. Confusion, doubt and something else. Something bleak.

“Everything okay?” I asked him.

His shoulders tensed and he looked at me. “It will be.”

“Well, good. I assume you know that kid?”

“Don’t worry about him.” He leaned over and looked deep into my eyes. He took my other hand in his, as well. A breath caught in my chest.

“Okay, I won’t worry,” I said.

“I really don’t understand this.”

“Well, that makes two of us.”

“You saw the searchlight when I couldn’t.” He frowned, as if trying to make sense of it all. “You were sent to help me when I needed it most—when I’d nearly given up hope. Thank you.”

I couldn’t help but grin at how dramatic he was being. “You’re very welcome.”

His expression turned tense, and he let me go so suddenly that I nearly lost my balance. It helped break me out of my current daze.

“It’s strange. I thought for a second that you—” His dark brows drew together before he shook his head.

“You thought for a second … what?”

“Something bad. But it’s nothing.” He turned to look at the Dumpster-diving kid before returning his gaze to mine. “You need to go now, Samantha.”

I inhaled sharply. “What?”

He took a step back as if forcing himself to put some space between us. “I need to talk to him alone.”

The distance between us helped to clear my head a little. “But—”

“Just go. And forget you ever met me.”

It felt like I’d just been punched in the gut, and it took me a moment to catch my breath. The cold splash of a raindrop hit my face.

He wanted me to forget I’d met him. But I kind of thought that we …

That we what? Had a connection because a good-looking but kind of crazy guy had called me beautiful? Because he’d said I was special?

My second bee sting of the weekend hurt like hell.

“Fine.” My chest ached. “I guess you should grab your friend before he finds a dead rat to nibble on.”

There was a sliver of regret in his blue eyes—or maybe that was just wishful thinking. He’d gotten what he needed from me and now he was giving me the brush-off. “Goodbye, Samantha.”

“Whatever.” I swallowed hard, then turned and walked away, forcing myself not to look back.

But even as I left the alley, my steps slowed.

Was he some milk-carton missing kid? Did he need professional help to deal with his mental issues? And who was the garbage-eating boy in the alley Bishop had needed a beam of light in order to find? I couldn’t just walk away and forget all about this without having any of my questions answered. Even if he didn’t want me around, I had to find out what was going on.

Ignoring the sharp needles of cold rain, I returned to the small alley and peered around the corner. The boys were close enough for me to hear them.

The other kid finally noticed Bishop and abandoned his secondhand meal, dropping the remains of the burger to the dirty, wet ground. “Who are you?”

Bishop didn’t speak right away. He cleared his throat first. “You don’t know me?”

“No, should I?”

“My name’s Bishop,” he said evenly. “I’m here to help you.”

The other boy eyed Bishop warily. “How are you going to help me?”

“Do you remember who you are? Do you remember anything at all?”

The boy ran a hand through his dirty blond hair, now damp from the rain, his expression tight and uncertain. “I woke up three days ago in a park north of here with no idea how I got there.”

“I know how.”

Relief flooded the kid’s expression. “Yeah? And you can help me?”

Another moment of hesitation. “That’s my job. Come closer.”

Bishop’s voice sounded stronger now, no babbling or disjointed thoughts like before. His shoulders were broad and he stood straight and tall, his back to me, the rain soaking through his T-shirt, darkening it.

The boy moved away from the Dumpster to stand in front of Bishop. They were the same height and build.

“Show me your back,” Bishop instructed.

“My back?”

“Please, it’ll only take a moment. I can’t make any more mistakes, even if I’m absolutely sure who you are.”

The blond kid looked bewildered as he turned and pulled up his shirt. It was fully dark now, and the only light came from a single security lamp on a post against the gray brick wall, but I could still see enough. On either side of his spine was a detailed tattoo of wings, so large that it extended down past the waistband of his pants. I squinted a little and noted that the wings were outlined and shaded in black.

It was trendy for some kids to get a wing tattoo—especially the guys on McCarthy’s football team, the Ravens. But they usually got it on their arms.

My rational mind wanted me to believe it was just a big version of the Ravens tattoo. However, these wings weren’t feathery like a bird’s. They were more webbed and … batlike.

Another shiver raced through me and my teeth began to chatter. My hair was now drenched from the icy-cold rain.

“I’ve seen enough,” Bishop said.

The boy lowered his shirt. Just like Bishop, he wasn’t wearing a coat despite the chill in the air and the falling rain.

“So now what?” the boy asked.

“Now you need to be brave.”

The boy’s attention shifted to the gold-bladed knife Bishop pulled from a sheath on his back that I hadn’t noticed before. “What are you going to do with that?”

“What I was sent here to do,” Bishop said. “My mission.” He plunged the knife into the boy’s chest.

chapter 4

A scream tore from my throat. “No! What are you doing?”

Bishop sent a fierce glare over his shoulder at me. “You weren’t supposed to see this.”

I ran toward the boy and grabbed hold of his arm as he staggered backward. A flash of lightning forked across the sky followed by a crack of thunder, and the rain came down even harder.

“You … You’re a—” The boy clutched at me, his eyes widening with pain and shock. I looked with horror at the blood soaking through his dirty white shirt as the boy’s grip on me grew painfully tight. “A gray.”

“What?”

But then he slipped out of my grasp, dropped to his knees and, with a last hiss of breath, fell face forward onto the pavement.

“Oh, my God! You killed him!” I could barely breathe. My entire body began to tremble. I’d never seen anyone murdered before. Not in real life.

Bishop grabbed me and slammed me up against the brick wall. I shrieked as he pressed the sharp golden knife against my throat.

“A gray,” he growled, and there was nothing remotely confused in his fierce expression anymore. He looked like he wanted to slit my throat right here and now. “I wasn’t sure before … but you are one of them.”

“Let go of me!” I wanted to struggle, but I couldn’t move much for fear that the knife would cut me. His body pressed against mine, effortlessly pinning me. His short hair was now slicked to his forehead from the rain and his eyes glowed—literally glowed—with blue light. Before, I’d found his eyes beautiful, but now they were absolutely terrifying.

And suddenly, I remembered seeing those eyes before—in my dream, the one I’d had when I passed out at Crave. The dream where he’d let me fall into the horrible darkness.

Something slid behind his gaze, past the fierceness. It looked like bitter disappointment. “How many souls have you devoured since you were turned?”

Tears burned my eyes and I tried to press back against the wall so I wouldn’t have to be so close to him. The knife at my neck made it difficult to speak or breathe. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“You’ve been kissed. Your soul is lost. You’re one of them now.”

Kissed.

The bitter taste of bile rose in my throat as I remembered the cold sensation when Stephen had kissed me. At the time it had felt like riding a roller coaster in the winter. Exhilarating and thrilling. It hadn’t been a normal kiss. I’d known it then, but I’d tried to pretend it never happened at all. Even though it had.

I should warn you, it’s a very dangerous kiss, Stephen had told me. It will change your life forever.

Bishop looked pained and the knife eased off a fraction. “I don’t understand why you helped me—why you could help me. They told me grays would be completely controlled by their insatiable hunger. But when you touched me—”

Oh, I’d touch him, all right.

I drove my knee up between his legs as hard as I could. He gasped and let go of me. I didn’t think twice before running away. I ran as far and as fast as I could through the maze of alleys and backstreets we’d taken to get there, before looking over my shoulder. My vision was blurred by tears and rain, but I could see that he wasn’t chasing me.

Bishop was insane. A killer. And I’d led him directly to his victim.

I stopped the first police cruiser I saw and ran to the driver’s side. “There’s been a murder!”

I quickly took the cop back to the alley, but by the time we got there it was empty. Completely empty. The cop looked at me skeptically as I craned my neck, looking for any sign of what had happened here. I knew it was the right alley. The half-eaten hamburger was still lying on the ground in a puddle.

“It happened only a few minutes ago. Please, you have to believe me!”

My insistence seemed to get through to him and he started to take me seriously. He asked me questions about what I’d seen and where I’d been tonight. He told me that there had been a few missing persons cases recently and that I should be careful.

I didn’t read the papers or watch the news, so I’d had no idea. If I had, I never would have walked home alone with my head in the clouds, stopping to help out a good-looking kid on the street. Bishop could be the reason behind these disappearances.

“I’ll come back tomorrow morning to check the alley again,” the cop told me. “Even with the rain, a murder like you’re describing would leave blood evidence behind, but I don’t see any here.” He paused. “Is there any chance this was your imagination? You said you’d gone to see a horror movie earlier, right?”

I opened my mouth to argue with him, but then closed it. He was right. If I said that I’d witnessed a murder, but there was no body, no blood, only minutes after the crime had taken place, then what was he supposed to think?

What was I supposed to think?

He drove me home in his cruiser and told me again not to worry about anything, that the police were on top of it. He assured me that the city was safe and that he was quite sure I’d just been imagining things. I nodded, my brain spinning as I felt sick to my core. He walked me to my front door and waited till I unlocked it and went inside before he went back to his cruiser and drove away. I was soaked to the skin from the rain and shaking from cold and fear.

My mother had a business dinner with her real-estate associates that she’d said would keep her out until at least midnight. I didn’t often want to spend a lot of time with her—we were so different that we had practically nothing in common anymore—but I desperately wished she was home right now.

I wanted to call Carly and tell her everything. I even went so far as to get my phone out of my bag, but the screen flickered and went out as I scrolled through the numbers. Dead battery. I swore under my breath. Before I went for the landline, I had second thoughts. I had no proof that what I’d seen was even real. I didn’t think Bishop had had enough time to pick up the body and carry it away with no trace.

But I’d seen it. I had. I wasn’t going crazy.

I glanced out the narrow window at the side of the front door, past the blind, to make sure I hadn’t been followed.

Grays are controlled by their insatiable hunger.

A sob caught in my chest. I didn’t even know what a gray was, other than a drab color. All I knew was that I was hungry all the time. And I knew, down deep, that it wasn’t just for food.

The blond kid’s face haunted me. He’d looked so alone and confused. I’d seen the hope in his eyes when he thought Bishop was going to help him. Instead, Bishop had stabbed him in the heart.

And then they’d both disappeared.

Despite the fact that I couldn’t stop shaking, I managed to eat three slices of cold pizza before I went to bed. My stomach didn’t seem to care as much as my brain did that I’d been a witness to murder.

I couldn’t get to sleep, staring up at my stucco ceiling and finding scary images of monsters hidden there. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to block out my thoughts, but what I’d seen in the alley filled my head like a nonstop horror movie marathon. I normally loved horror movies; they were my escape. But they weren’t nearly as much fun when you experienced them in real life.

When I finally fell asleep, I had another dream about Bishop. This time I could see him clearly as he approached me on the street, his hand held out toward me as if he wanted to touch me.

I cringed away from him. “Leave me alone!”

His face was strained and haunted. “You know I can’t do that. Not anymore.”

I realized I had a knife—Bishop’s knife—clutched in my hand. “Stay away from me or I’ll do it! I’ll kill you!”

Despite my warning, he still drew closer as if he couldn’t help himself.

I didn’t remember stabbing him, but I must have, because the very next moment, he fell to his knees and touched the hilt of the knife sticking out of his chest with shaking hands.

His intense blue eyes locked with mine. “They can’t have you—promise me, Samantha. You won’t let them have you.”

When he fell heavily to his side, the light from his eyes extinguished, and he didn’t move again. A cry rose in my throat. Suddenly I wanted to touch him, to heal him. I wanted to make it all better again, make everything go away, but it was too late.

Shadows began to creep toward me from every direction. As they moved over Bishop’s body, he disappeared as if he’d never been there in the first place.

“You must come with us now, Samantha,” the voices said as the shadows drew closer and closer.

Icy hands gripped me, stripping away any warmth left inside me and leaving only fear behind.

“You’re one of us now. You’ll always be one of us.”

“No!” When I tried to fight them, they began to rip me apart. But instead of blood, darkness spilled from inside me.

I forced myself awake with a blood-curdling scream.

My mother thundered down the hallway and yanked open my bedroom door.

“What’s wrong?” Her face was pale, her normally perfect blond hair a mess. She pulled her bathrobe tighter around her. Dark circles cut under her pale blue eyes. She suffered from insomnia and usually got only a few hours of sleep a night. A screaming daughter didn’t exactly help matters.

I looked at her from my tangle of light pink bedsheets. “Bad dream. Really bad dream.”

“A bad dream? That’s all it was? I thought you were being murdered in here.”

I flinched at her choice of words, wanting to tell her everything but knowing she wouldn’t believe a word I said. Why would she? I barely believed it myself. “Sorry I woke you.”

She leaned her forehead against the edge of the door. “Better now?”

“I’ll survive.”

“Warm milk helps me sometimes. Do you want some?”

“No, thanks.” Just the thought of it turned my stomach. My new hunger didn’t seem to extend toward heated dairy products.

Whenever I’d had a nightmare as a kid, she’d come into my room and read me a story until I got sleepy again. I remembered one in particular about a bunny who got lost in the forest and had to rely on the kindness of strangers—even those who might normally eat him for dinner—to help lead him home. Luckily it had a happy ending. Not all wolves had an appetite for cute bunnies.

For a moment, I had the urge to ask her to read me that story, but I held my tongue. I wasn’t a little kid anymore.

“You scared me,” she said groggily, rubbing her eyes. “But I’m glad nothing’s wrong. Try to get some sleep. Brand-new week starting. Hopefully it’ll be a good one.”

As she left, she kept my door open a crack. It wasn’t as big of a comforting gesture as reading me a bedtime story about rabbits and wolves becoming friends with each other, but it was better than nothing.

I had an old teddy bear named Fritz that had been relegated to the rocking chair in the corner of my room next to my packed bookcase. He was missing an eye, and his left arm was partially detached. I grabbed him and pulled him into bed with me, clutching him to my chest. But whatever comfort he’d given me when I was younger, he failed to deliver tonight.

An hour later, I gave up on sleep. I grabbed my laptop from the floor next to my bed and went to the website for the Trinity Chronicle, searching for the latest news to see if anyone had reported any stabbings or murders. There was nothing. Between this and the dismissive “it was just your imagination” reaction I’d gotten from the cop, it was like it never happened.

But it had.

I read up on recent disappearances, but none seemed related to what had happened tonight. Trinity was a big city with a million residents. Bad things happened year-round to people young and old, male and female, beautiful and ugly. It didn’t seem to matter who or when or why.

I propped my pillows behind me and gathered my thick duvet closer so I wouldn’t feel so cold. Then I did a Google search for gray, but that didn’t give me anything useful. I mean, it was just a color, that was all. But that was what the blond kid had called me. That was what had made Bishop freak out and look at me like I was a monster, when really it was the other way around. He was the monster.

For a moment, I’d thought he was so much more.

I closed the computer, swearing to put him and everything I’d seen and experienced completely out of my mind.

Yeah, right. Like that was even possible.

Monday morning loomed painfully bright and early. I wanted to stay home and hide, but I knew I couldn’t. Instead, I forced myself to get up and get ready for school. My mother had already left for work by the time I came downstairs. I had a breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast—and more toast—none of which made a single dent in my hunger.

When I went to the bathroom to get ready, the full-length mirror on the back of the door showed that I looked exactly the same as I ever had—short, skinny, with long, wild dark hair that I pulled back into a ponytail to keep off my face. A smear of peach-colored lip gloss and a swipe of black mascara was the sum total of my beauty regimen for a regular school day. Same as always.

But something had changed. People at McCarthy High were looking at me differently.

I tried to ignore the curious looks and outright stares I got as I made my way into the school. Maybe they were staring at me because I looked like someone who’d hung out with a gorgeous but crazy blue-eyed murderer last night. A murderer who’d disappeared into thin air along with his victim, making me question my sanity and my own damn eyes.

Or, more likely, the news of what happened with Stephen and me at Crave on Friday night had gone viral. Likely Jordan was spreading the rumor that I was a slut, blowing everything out of proportion to make my life even more difficult than it already was.

“Excuse me, Ms. Day,” Mr. Saunders, my English teacher, said near the end of first period. His thick glasses made him look like a disapproving owl peering down at me from a tree branch. “Are you paying attention to me this morning?”

I straightened in my seat, flattening my palms against the cool surface of my desk, and tried to pull myself out of my thoughts. “Of course I am.”

“Then what did I just say?”

I felt everyone watching me, waiting to see if I’d make a fool out of myself.

“You said—” I gulped and scanned the blackboard for a clue “—something about Macbeth?”

“Is that a question or a statement?”

“A statement. Definitely a statement.”

“Since that’s the play we’re discussing this week, I think it’s a given that I’m talking about it. But what precisely did I just say?”

The walls felt as if they were closing in on me and I suddenly had trouble breathing. I had a very strong urge to get out of there and I didn’t have time to explain why. I’d face the consequences later.

I grabbed my leather bag and books before getting up from my seat. “I’m sorry, Mr. Saunders. I—I’m not feeling so good.”

“Ms. Day?” He watched with surprise as I left my desk and escaped from the room without another word.

The harder I tried to think about something else, the more the memories of last night clutched me like a giant, monstrous hand. I needed some fresh air. First, I hurried to my locker to drop off my books.

“Hey, what happened in there?” Colin had followed me from class. He held his dog-eared copy of Macbeth and his binder casually at his side. “You okay?”

I shoved my books into my locker and closed it, twirling the dial on the lock. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Glad to hear it.”

I crossed my arms to try to warm up. Colin wore short sleeves, which made me think that I was the only one with a temperature problem today. “You left class just to check on me?”

“Well, yeah. Of course I did. I told Saunders I wanted to make sure you’re okay. He seemed concerned, so he didn’t have a problem with it. You’re lucky he likes you.”

No one else had come after me. I didn’t have too many other friends in that class. I didn’t have too many other friends period. “You’re so sweet.”

I could have sworn his cheeks flushed a little. But it was true. He was sweet. Except for his inability to deal with parties without drinking and then making ridiculously bad choices involving stupid, vain cheerleaders, he was basically the perfect guy.

“Listen, Samantha—” He raised his gaze from the scuffed floor to look at me. “I know Carly and I didn’t end on good terms. Seeing her trying to avoid me last night wasn’t fun.”

I tensed at the mention of their breakup. “That’s an understatement.”

He rubbed his hand over his forehead and looked down at his feet again. “And I know you’re her friend—”

“Best friend.”

“Right. Best friend. But you’re still talking to me. You haven’t given me the cold shoulder like her other friends have.”

Good point. I hadn’t. I couldn’t help it, I liked Colin. Him coming after me just now to make sure I wasn’t going to spontaneously combust proved that feeling was mutual.

“I know Carly doesn’t approve,” I said with a shrug, “but I make my own decisions when it comes to people I choose to talk to.”

“Good. So, yeah, I’m not sure if this might cause some friction between you two, but I just have to ask …”

“What?”

He raised his gaze to mine. “Do you want to go out some time?”

I wasn’t sure I’d heard him right. “Go out?”

“You and me, maybe the movies on the weekend. Or we could go to Crave.”

Oh, boy.

I suddenly had the very clear image of me telling Carly about this and her not speaking to me for a few decades, even though it totally wasn’t my fault. Or maybe it was. I was still talking to Colin after everyone else associated with Carly had collectively decided to give him the death glare whenever he was nearby.

He’d drawn closer to me until there was barely a foot separating us. Too close. Anyone who saw us might get the wrong idea.

I twisted a piece of hair that had fallen out of my ponytail tightly around my index finger and inhaled deeply. “Oh, Colin. I, uh, really like you. Seriously, but—”

I stopped talking.

His scent—I didn’t believe it was just soap, like he’d said last night at the movie theater. He smelled … edible. He was too close to me right now. I could barely think straight.

“But what?”

I shivered, now focused entirely on his mouth. “Oh, my God. I’m so hungry right now.”

He grinned. “How is it possible that you can make that sentence sound so sexy?”

“Sexy?”

“Yeah.” He leaned closer to me.

No, he wasn’t leaning closer. I was pulling him closer, sliding my hands over his shoulders and around his nape to tangle into his hair.

Just as his lips were an inch from mine, I came to my senses. I braced my hands against his chest and pushed him away from me.

He looked at me with confusion. “Uh, what was that?”

“I don’t know. Sorry … I need to go.” I swallowed hard and walked away from him. Quickly. I didn’t stop until I passed through the doors of the school and felt the cool morning air on my face. I gulped it in and tried to push against the hunger that had almost made me kiss Colin. The need was nearly impossible to resist.

But I’d resisted.

Something caught my eye. A blond guy stood at the bottom of the stairs by the path that led to the parking lot. He was watching me.

I gasped. It was the kid from the alley last night.

The one Bishop had killed.

He casually turned and started to walk away. Without thinking twice, I ran after him.

“Wait!” I tripped over my own ankle and almost fell before staggering to a stop on the narrow path that wound through school grounds. The blond guy had sat down on a bench and was watching my approach. His dirty and bloody clothes from last night were gone, replaced by clean blue jeans and a long-sleeved black T-shirt.

“Hi there,” he greeted me casually. “Samantha, right?”

“You—” It was difficult to form coherent words. “It’s you, isn’t it?”

“Depends who you mean by you.”

“You’re alive.”

“Am I?” He looked down at himself, holding his arms out in front of him for inspection, then his gaze swept the length of me. “Hey, so are you. What a coincidence.”

A cloud of confusion swirled around me, making me dizzy. “But I—I saw you get stabbed in the chest last night.”

He got to his feet and closed the distance between us in only a couple of steps. I staggered back from him and looked around, realizing that we were all alone.

He cocked his head. “Did you really see me get stabbed?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Are you completely sure about that?”

I glared at him. He was mocking me and I had no idea why. “Completely.”

He rubbed his chest. “Funny, because I feel just fine.”

“I’m not crazy.”

He walked a slow circle around me and it felt like he was studying every inch of me. Like, every inch.

“Name’s Kraven.” His lips curled into a smile that didn’t look friendly. “I’d say I’m pleased to meet you, but that would be a lie. I mean, things like you are the reason for this little mess, aren’t they?”

My stomach churned and I wrapped my arms around myself, trying not to shiver. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I continued to deny it, even to myself. There wasn’t anything else I could do. The moment I accepted that something was seriously wrong here—and with me in particular—was the moment I believed this insanity was real. And I wasn’t quite ready for the asylum.

“Sure you don’t. You’re just a normal girl, right? And that relentless hunger you’ve suddenly developed—what do you think that is? Just a regular case of the munchies?”

I shook my head, trying to block out how much he seemed to know about me. “Bishop stabbed you. I saw it with my own eyes. So why aren’t you dead?”

Kraven’s mischievous grin widened and his amber-colored eyes began to glow bright red. “Because it takes more than that to kill a demon.”

chapter 5

I couldn’t move. Fear crawled through my gut like a fistful of cockroaches. “A demon?”

“Impressed?”

I wanted this to be a movie on TV so I could press the off button and make it all go away. The cold feeling grew deeper, sinking so far inside me I didn’t think I’d ever feel warm again. I was sure all the color had drained from my already pale face.

Other than his eyes, there was nothing that made him seem anything other than human. He had a small freckle at the left corner of his mouth. His hair was the kind of blond color people got if they were normally light brown but spent the entire summer working outside in the sun. He looked so normal. Like a boy I might see at the mall, or the movies, or … eating garbage in an alleyway.

Unlike Bishop, there was no madness in his expression. Kraven was totally sane.

Which meant that I had to be the crazy one.

“Wh-what do you want from me?” I stammered.

“I want to do my job. The sooner the better.”

“What’s your job?”

“Why would I tell you my secrets?” Kraven brushed the front of his shirt, straightening out a wrinkle in the fabric, before his gaze, which had changed back to its normal amber color, returned to my face.

A cold line of perspiration slid down my spine and I took a deep breath before speaking. “I swear, I’m not what you think I am.”

“A hungry little gray with an appetite for human souls?” Kraven touched my hair and I swatted his hand away. Then he grabbed my wrists and pulled me closer to him.

Sabrina, a girl from my afternoon geography class, passed us and I craned my neck to track her. She was notorious for cheating off whomever was seated next to her, including me several times, and she had the As to prove it.

I’d never been so happy to see anyone before in my entire life.

“Sabrina, help me!” I shouted. “Please!”

She didn’t even glance in my direction.

“Why can’t she see me?” I struggled to pull away from him, but Kraven held me firmly in place.

He watched the girl disappear down the path. “Because I don’t want her to. I cloaked us so we could have a little chat all privatelike.” He looked at my mouth for a moment as if mesmerized by it. “Let’s get down to business, sweetness. How many have you kissed since you’ve been turned?”

“None!”

He raised an eyebrow and brought his mouth closer to mine. I could feel his hot breath on me as he spoke. “But you want to, don’t you? It’s a hunger you can’t resist, a raw desire, an … aching need. Tell me the truth. You want to, don’t you?”

“No.” I clenched my jaw, glaring at him for making it sound so dirty, but inside I felt sick and weakened. I’d ached to kiss Colin just now, and it had taken everything I had to pull myself away from him. I’d tried to ignore my cravings, feed them with food each time they’d appeared, but nothing had helped.

Kraven knew that. He shouldn’t have known anything about me, but he knew what I was feeling inside right now. And he saw the answer on my face even though I hadn’t said it out loud.

His smile faded. “Even if I believed you, it’s only a matter of time before you can’t control it any longer.”

He grabbed me by the throat so tight that I couldn’t breathe. I scratched and beat at his arms as hard as I could, but it didn’t do any good. He raised me off the ground so I was on my tiptoes.

No one could see that he was strangling me right in the middle of school grounds. I strained to get a breath, to scream, but I couldn’t. My fingernails dug into Kraven’s iron grip.

“Let go of her,” someone snarled.

Bishop had appeared a dozen feet away by the bench. My eyes widened, and the fear I’d felt the last time we’d been face-to-face came back in full force along with an almost giddy elation.

The demon finally tore his gaze away from me. “Or what?”

“Or I’ll kill you. Again.”

Kraven slowly set me back down on the ground, releasing my throat. I wheezed and gasped for breath. “You know, you’re a serious pain in the—”

Bishop launched himself at the demon, tackling him to the ground and slamming a fist into Kraven’s jaw. Before the next hit landed Kraven grabbed him and twisted his arm away. I recovered enough to leap back as they continued to fight. More students strolled past without glancing at them or at me.

“Some angel you are.” Kraven laughed as they finally pushed apart. “Can’t even take a lowly demon like me in a fight?”

“I can take you,” Bishop growled. “I can end you.”

“Thought we were supposed to be working together like good friends and business partners.”

“Still up for debate as far as I’m concerned. They shouldn’t have sent you.”

“Too bad. They did. Deal with it.”

I’d been a half second from running in the opposite direction, but froze in place at what I’d just heard.

“You’re a—an angel?” My voice sounded pitchy.

Bishop’s gaze shot to me and he took a step toward me. “Samantha …”

I held up a shaky hand. “Don’t come any closer or I’m going to scream.”

He stayed put, his jaw tight and his fierce gaze focused on me.

On my bedroom wall I had a framed poster of an angel by a fantasy illustrator I really liked—it showed a peaceful, beautiful being of light. If anything, I would have guessed Bishop was a demon, like Kraven, from every horrible thing he’d done so far. Seeing him again had knocked every bit of confidence right out of me.

But those blue eyes of his—they were every bit as beautiful as they’d been last night and able to capture me with just a glance in my direction. It was impossible to even attempt to breathe normally at this point. “If you’re an angel, why are you working with a demon?”

His lips thinned. “It’s a long story.”

“Yeah, a really long story.” Kraven was studying me again. “Why’s she so different?”

“I don’t know.” Bishop kept his attention on me. “There’s something special about her. When she helped me with her touch—”

“Exactly what was she touching that was so memorable for you?”

“Watch your mouth.”

A smile tugged at Kraven’s lips and he leered at me in a way that made me feel naked. I fought the urge to cross my arms over my chest. “You’re a mystery, gray girl.”

“Her name is Samantha,” Bishop growled.

Kraven rolled his eyes. “If this is going to work, you really have to loosen up. Like, seriously.”

My mind reeled and my stomach twisted from all of this—from what I was feeling to what I’d just been told flat out. I couldn’t deny that I hungered for something I couldn’t name, and my cravings had been getting worse every hour since Stephen had kissed me on Friday night. When Colin had gotten too close, I’d wanted to kiss him so much that I’d practically attacked him in the hallway. But I hadn’t. I could control it. I had so far, and I’d continue to do so.

Kraven’s smile returned and he moved closer to me again. I froze as he placed a hand on my shoulder. “You know, you’re kind of cute. Maybe I won’t kill you if you make it worth my while.”

“Get your hand off me,” I snapped as my fear turned to anger. I grabbed his hand.

Electricity crackled down my arm. Kraven gasped in pain and staggered backward. I stared at him with surprise.

“What was that?” he managed to ask.

Good question. What the hell just happened?

Bishop glared at him. “Just stay away from her.”

He frowned. “She zapped me.”

“That’s impossible.”

“I didn’t just imagine it. She did.” His grin slowly returned, and he eyed me with that hatefully amused expression. “Curiouser and curiouser.”

For a second I was reminded of when I’d first touched Bishop and the vision had slammed into me—zapping Kraven had felt that powerful and that uncontrollable. My skin still tingled from the shock I’d given him, as if I was slowly recovering from sticking my fingers in a light socket.

“Ignore him,” Bishop said, throwing a look of pure disdain toward the demon. “Samantha, I had to find you again. After what you were able to do last night, I … we need your help.”

“You need my help? You have got to be kidding me. I want nothing to do with you.”

His gaze shadowed. “You’re different from the other grays—I don’t know why or how. But you are. How you found Kraven last night … there are others. I need you to help me find them before they’re lost forever.”

My ponytail had come loose from the elastic and I redid it firmly. I liked Bishop’s voice; it was smooth and deep and it made me shiver. I hated that I liked anything about him, after everything I’d learned. “I want both of you to leave me alone.”

“I know you’re confused, but this is important.”

Emotion lodged in my throat, making it hard to talk without sounding choked. “You’re the one who’s confused, because I don’t care what’s important to you. I hate you, whatever you are. And I want you to stay away from me.”

His gaze began to grow cloudy, like when I’d first met him. He pressed his fingers against his temples. “I don’t know what else to say right now.”

My heart twisted. Damn it. I had an urge to touch him, to make it better since I knew I could, to erase that pain from his handsome face. But I held myself back. “Say goodbye. You were more than ready to say it to me last night.”

“Hey, Samantha!” Carly shouted. “What are you doing out here?”

My head whipped toward her. The shield making us invisible must have disappeared. I turned to look at Bishop and Kraven again, but they were gone.

Just like last night, they’d vanished into thin air.

“Hellooo? Earth to Samantha!”

I composed myself and hitched my shoulder strap higher, and then walked toward her, willing myself to stop trembling. “What are you doing tonight?”

“Me? Nothing. Why?”

I bit my bottom lip. “I want to go back to Crave.”

Carly crossed her arms. “Why?”

“I want to see Stephen again.”

She gave me a guarded look. “Are you sure about that?”

“I am.”

“I just thought … after the other night …” She frowned. “You’re not interested in him anymore, are you?”

I gritted my teeth. “Oh, I’m interested, all right.”

I was interested in getting to the bottom of what had happened to me and how I could fix it as soon as possible. And Stephen Keyes damn well better have some answers.

chapter 6

I’d burned all day with the need to get back to Crave and confront Stephen, but now that I was here I’d started to doubt myself. I guess I’d focused on my plan—weak though it was—as a way to keep from thinking too much about what had happened with Bishop and Kraven.

I wasn’t convinced that I was some sort of soul-devouring monster now. No way. I was still me, nothing had changed that. But something was wrong. Really wrong. And I had to fix it.

“Are you even sure the jerk is here?” Carly scanned the floor looking for him.

“He told me he’s here every night lately, even weekdays. He’s taking a break from school right now, that’s why he’s back in town.”

“Doesn’t he live near you?”

“Two doors down.”

“We could have gone there to check.”

“I already checked. His parents don’t even know he’s in the city.” I’d called his house after school. I’d had a feeling he wouldn’t be there, but his mother’s reply that “he’s at school” was enough to convince me that if I couldn’t find him at Crave, I might not be able to find him at all. Besides, I didn’t want to chance being alone with him. I wanted to confront him in a public place.

“Okay, so where is he?” Carly asked. “Let’s do this.”

She thought my feelings were hurt and I wanted to lash out, and as my best friend, she was ready to back me up.

Just like with my mother, I hadn’t breathed a word to her about what was really going on. I wasn’t sure what was stopping me, exactly. Carly, of all people, would probably believe there were angels and demons roaming the city.

But still I didn’t speak up. She liked to protect me from people who might pick on me. Well, I’d like to protect her from people who might do worse than throw out a few insults. Cruel names might hurt feelings, but sharp golden daggers could kill.

I did wish very hard that I could stop thinking about Bishop. He was constantly on my mind now. If he hadn’t shown up today, I had little doubt that Kraven would have killed me.

It was an incredibly sobering thought. I owed my gratitude to Bishop for saving my life, and yet he’d threatened it himself just the night before.

“I need to talk to Stephen on my own,” I said. “You should stay here and wait for me.”

She eyed me. “Oh, I get it. So I’m just your chauffeur, huh? I don’t get a chance to tell him off, too?”

“Believe me, I don’t think that. Although, I won’t say that you having a car isn’t a nice perk.” I couldn’t help but grin at her mock outrage. “This is just something I need to handle myself. Less embarrassing that way.”

She considered this. “So what if he’s all schmoozy? All, ‘I really want to kiss your delectable lips again’? You’re just going to ignore it?”

“That isn’t going to happen.” Even if Stephen was one hundred percent innocent, his reaction to me after the kiss spoke volumes. I mean, he’d called me kid. No, I had more important things to deal with than falling for some self-involved college guy right now, no matter how cute I’d always found him.

It was funny how completely this had doused my crush on him. Like a bucket of water thrown on a lit match.

Also, my immediate and overpowering attraction to Bishop—and the fact that I couldn’t get him off my mind—had shown me that my little crush on Stephen had been just that. Little.

“You were really into him. What, are you interested in somebody else now?” she asked.

There was a catch in her voice that made me direct my attention away from scanning the dark club to her again. “What?”

She cleared her throat. “Jordan saw you talking to Colin in the hall this morning. She said you were standing really close.”

I winced. Damn Jordan. My personal nemesis and a total gossip. “It was nothing.”

Her eyebrows went up and she finally raised her gaze from the ground to meet mine. I saw relief there. “Really?”

It wasn’t nothing, but getting into details about him asking me out and then me wanting to kiss him probably wouldn’t earn me any brownie points as a loyal best friend.

“I know Colin’s totally off-limits,” I confirmed instead. “I promise, there’s no way I’d be interested in him like that. But why are you worried that I’ve been talking to him?”

“I’m done with him. But …” She rubbed her temples. “My brain is going to explode just thinking about this.”

“Let’s hope not.”

“I don’t want to be with him anymore, but I don’t want him to be with anyone else. Does that make some kind of bizarre, psycho ex-girlfriend kind of sense?”

“Sure it does.”

She laughed before sobering. “No, it doesn’t. I know that. He’s just the first guy who … you know, the first one to really like me.”

My heart felt heavy for her. I had to be really careful how I acted around Colin from now on. I didn’t want to give him—or Carly—the wrong impression. “Sorry this sucks so much for you. And you need to open your eyes when it comes to other guys. Paul is crazy about you, but you’ve never even looked in his direction. If you want to start dating again, you should give him a chance.”

She frowned. “Paul? Paul McKee?”

“The one and only.” He was a friend who always ate lunch with us. A pal, really. But I’d have to be blind not to see the very nonpal way he gazed across the table at Carly on a daily basis. Of course, she never noticed, because she was usually gazing somewhere else.

I scanned the nightclub. It wasn’t nearly as busy as it had been on Friday. On school nights it became a restaurant that only looked like a club—like a school cafeteria, but better decorated, with cooler lighting and a sound track. The dance floor was deserted and the place shut down at eleven o’clock instead of 1:00 a.m. A quick inhale brought forth the scent of chicken wings, fries and onion rings. Not healthy, but definitely delicious.

Something else smelled fantastic in here, but I couldn’t put my finger on what.

Souls, a little voice inside me said. You can smell the souls of all the people near you.

The thought nauseated me. Hopefully nobody would get as close to me as Colin had earlier today. That seemed to be what set me off.

“There’s lover boy now,” Carly said, snapping me out of my daze. “You’re right, he is here every night.”

Sure enough, looking every bit as gorgeous as ever in black pants and a white shirt unbuttoned at the collar, Stephen walked along the side of the empty dance floor toward the spiral staircase leading to the upstairs lounge.

“Okay, I can do this,” I said aloud, trying to summon some inner strength.

“Are you going to talk to him?” Carly asked. “Or just punch him in the nose?”

An excellent question.

He’d done something to me—he’d even warned me about it first. He’d given me this hunger I couldn’t get rid of, this craving that now haunted me every moment I was awake and the chill that stayed with me from morning till night.

I was ready to confront Stephen.

Something wicked this way comes.

This time I was talking about myself.

“Wait here,” I told Carly. “Please.”

“You sure you don’t want me there for support?”

“I’m sure,” I said. Kissing Stephen had led to me almost getting killed. It wasn’t something I wanted Carly involved with. Her being here tonight was bad enough.

She nodded. “Good luck. Give him hell.”

I grimaced. Hell wasn’t something I even wanted to consider after meeting a demon today. Slowly, I started up the stairs.

It’ll change your life forever, so you have to want it.

I wondered if Stephen said that to all the girls. But I didn’t want a kiss tonight. All I wanted was answers.

Stephen sat in the corner of the upstairs lounge on a plush red velvet chair. He watched my cautious approach as if not at all surprised to see me again.

“Samantha Day,” he greeted me. “How are you this evening?”

My mouth felt dry. Very dry. I tried to ignore how nervous I was. “I need to talk to you.”

“But you didn’t answer my question. How are you?”

“Not good,” I admitted.

“Sorry to hear that.”

“Are you?”

“Of course I am.” He gave me a charming smile I couldn’t help but respond to. He really was cute, that much hadn’t changed since he’d potentially destroyed my life. He waved at the chair beside him. “Please, have a seat.”

I swallowed hard, wanting to resist, but deciding to do as he said. I glanced around the lounge as I took a seat on the soft chair. There were about a half dozen other kids in this area, scattered around. Some were reading books, as if this was a relaxing hangout. Some were talking to each other. I didn’t recognize any of them.

Doubt clouded my mind when I met Stephen’s eyes again. Suddenly, I felt young—really young—and uncertain.

“You walked away after you kissed me,” I said, and immediately felt silly. Like some jilted teenager who drew hearts in her binder all day long and daydreamed about boys.

What happened to my decision to be strong and demand answers?

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Really.”

His answer surprised me. “You are?”

“I needed to—” his dark brows drew together “—take care of something important. And it couldn’t wait a moment longer or it would have been too late.”

I eyed him skeptically. “What did you do to me?”

“Excuse me?”

“When you kissed me. You did something bad.”

“Is that what you think?”

“That’s what I know.”

He leaned back in his chair, studying me as if looking for clues to the same mystery I wanted solved. “It was just a kiss, nothing more. Sorry if you took it to mean more than that. I like you, Samantha, but like I said, you’re a bit too young for—”

There was no time for eloquence, so I just blurted it out. “Did you do something to my soul?”

His brows went up. “Excuse me?”

“Just answer my question.” Now I sounded impressively strong, considering I was quaking inside.

Stephen stood up and moved toward the glass barrier to look down at the rest of the club. He didn’t reply.

After a long moment, with only the boom of the music below filling my ears, I got up and approached him. “It did something, that kiss. It changed me. Didn’t it?”

“I did warn you,” he said.

I’d wanted him to look confused or annoyed by me talking to him about this. I’d wanted him to not know what the hell I was talking about. But it was all too clear that he knew exactly what I meant. This wasn’t a misunderstanding or an epic practical joke. This was real.

I had to be careful with him. My instincts told me that much.

I chanced a look around the lounge to see that our discussion hadn’t earned so much as a curious glance from the other kids. “You did something to my soul, I know that much. They called me a gray. Why would you do that to me and then just let me walk away with no warning of what might happen?”

“A gray?” He frowned. “Who have you been talking to about this?”

I pressed my lips together. I was the one asking questions here, not answering them.

Stephen went back to the chair and sat down again, grabbed a beer that sat on a black lacquered table and took a swig from it. Suddenly, I wanted to make a joke, maybe something about him having a fake ID. My usual reaction to unpleasant things was to try to be funny. It was a defense mechanism I’d developed during my parents’ very unamicable split. Or so my guidance counselor told me when I’d gotten in trouble for snarking on one of my teachers.

Laughing was way better than crying, as far as I was concerned. At the moment, however, I didn’t feel like doing either.

“Stephen,” I growled. It was pissing me off that he was so unwilling to tell me what I needed to know.

He settled back in the chair, looking like a handsome prince on a velvet throne. “I did what I was told to do, and then I had to leave. I’m not supposed to explain. She’ll tell you all about it when she’s ready.”

I stared at him blankly. “Who?”

His jaw tightened. “You’re supposed to be special. She said you were, or I would have at least warned you about the hunger …” He trailed off and then frowned at me, looking into my eyes. “But you’re able to fight it, aren’t you? Even without me telling you anything about it first. I’m thinking that’s exactly what makes you special. You don’t seem any different than you were before.”

My mind spun. I didn’t understand. “I’m hungry all the time.”

“But you’re not feeding. She didn’t think you would.”

My shivering increased. I knew he wasn’t talking about potato chips or cheeseburgers. “Who the hell is she?”

“I can’t tell you that. Not yet.” He swore under his breath. “I knew you were too young.”

“Tell me what you did to me,” I demanded. “What is this hunger? I keep eating and eating and I can’t get full.”

He shook his head, still staring at me as if my admitting the hunger surprised him. “Food won’t satisfy you. Not anymore.”

My bottom lip wobbled as I started to lose my composure. “What am I?”

He stood up and reached toward me, gently tucking a piece of long, dark hair behind my ear. His expression regained its previous confidence and he smiled. “This is a good thing, Samantha. You’re something even more special now. Something amazing.”

Bishop had called me special, too, shortly before he’d put that knife to my throat. Call me crazy, but the word put me on edge.

“I’m a—a gray,” I said, my throat tight enough that it was difficult to breathe.

His smile wavered and an edge of confusion slid behind his gaze as if he wasn’t familiar with the term. But that was what Bishop and Kraven had called it. “What you are isn’t a bad thing. It really isn’t. But you do have to be careful. There are ways of controlling the hunger through the kiss.” He leaned close to whisper in my ear. “You and me—we can practice now, if you like, without doing any harm. Whenever we want to.”

Practice kissing with Stephen Keyes. A week ago it would have sounded like a dream come true, but now …

It didn’t feel like a dream. Only a nightmare could make me feel like this.

I half expected him to rip off his face to show a literal monster underneath, just before he attacked me. But he didn’t do any ripping or attacking.

When Stephen took my hand in his, I yanked it away from him. His skin was cold and it made me shudder.

He blinked. “Our body temperatures are lower now. You’ll get used to it. It’s one of the side effects of not having a soul.”

Finally—confirmation. He’d somehow managed to steal my soul in that kiss.

“How do I get it back?” My voice broke.

He cocked his head to the side. “Why would you want it back? You’re better now.”

He was infuriating. How could he be so calm about something like this? “Because—because it’s my soul. You took it and I want you to give it back. Now.”

His expression didn’t change as he sat down again. “I can’t give yours back to you. I gave in to the hunger just as she told me to. And now it’s gone.”

Panic twisted inside me. My soul was gone. Something I hadn’t really thought about as a tangible piece of me had been ripped away and destroyed without my permission.

My hands clenched into fists at my sides. “You can’t just steal something so important from me and expect I’m going to be okay with that. Who told you to do this to me?”

His eyes narrowed. “A soul is a burden on a human, an anchor. Trust me … you’re better off without it. I never knew how much my soul held me back, but it did. I was miserable—self-doubting, worried, anxious, living a life others planned for me. I had no control over myself. Now I do. The world has opened up to me. It was my soul that held me back. You’ll come to see that I’m telling the truth. The hunger can be managed. It’s all worth it.”

If that was his sales pitch for Devour your soul? Ask me how! I was unimpressed, to say the least. In fact, I was so mad I wanted to spit.

But, mad or not, it was too late. He’d done it. My soul was gone. And now I hungered to do the same to others as Stephen had done to me. This wasn’t going to get any better; it was only going to get worse. That must be what had happened with Colin in the hallway this morning. I’d been so close … too close …

I turned and stalked away. My mind was a jumble of information and I had no idea how to process it all.

“Where are you going?” Stephen’s hand closed on my upper arm and he jerked me to a stop before I reached the staircase, wrenching me back around to face him.

I guess he was also done with being pleasant.

“Let go of me!” I snarled, trying to fight the burning sting of tears in my eyes.

Unfortunately, no protective zapping occurred to blast him back from me like it had this morning with Kraven.

I half expected his eyes to glow red like the demon’s had, but they remained the same caramel color as always. “I have some questions for you, too, Samantha. You can’t just walk away from me yet.”

I looked around at the other kids for help, but they still weren’t paying attention to us. Considering our heated discussion and the fact he was now physically restraining me from leaving, that surprised me.

“Help!” I called out, loud enough to be heard over the constant musical background to Crave. “He won’t let me leave!”

“Don’t bother,” Stephen said. “They’re all with me—my new brothers and sisters. Your new brothers and sisters.”

A gasp caught in my throat. “But they look so normal.”

“They’re better than normal.”

A second glance showed they were all very attractive, well dressed and had an air of self-confidence. Stephen had said losing your soul was a freeing experience. Looked like these grays agreed with him.

If that was so, then why didn’t I feel that way?

“Now, my question …” He pulled me closer. “Who have you been talking to about this since Friday night? I need to know.”

“Why do you care?”

“If there’s someone out there with knowledge of us, they might not understand. They might try to get in the way. She won’t like that.” His grip tightened. I tried to pull away but I couldn’t. “Answer me, Samantha. Who were you talking to?”

“She was talking to me.”

I whipped my head around. Bishop was standing at the top of the stairs. Our eyes met and held for a brief but intense moment before he shifted his focus to Stephen.

“Who the hell are you?” Stephen snapped.

“Let Samantha go and maybe we’ll talk about it.”

Stephen released me. His tight grip had left a red imprint on my skin. His angry expression shifted to neutral as he eyed Bishop.

“There,” he said pleasantly. “I let her go.”

“You grab girls a lot around here?” Bishop glanced around the lounge area.

Stephen smirked. “Usually it’s the other way around.”

“How nice for you. So you’re the one who did this to her, aren’t you?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Bishop’s gaze flicked to me as I rubbed my arm. “You okay?”

While I was glad he’d gotten Stephen to let go of me, I wasn’t running into Bishop’s arms with gratitude. “Did you follow me here?”

“Something like that.”

I let out a frustrated groan. “Can’t anyone just talk to me straight? Why is everyone avoiding my damn questions tonight?”

Bishop’s brows went up. “Okay, fine. Yes, I followed you here. Better?”

“Yes. Stalkery, but better.”

“I’m not stalking you.”

“Spoken like a true stalker.”

“So let me start again.” Stephen eyed Bishop with distaste. “Who are you and what do you want?”

There was nothing pleasant about the way Bishop studied him back. In fact, he looked predatory. “You’re the one who kissed Samantha, aren’t you?”

Again, Stephen didn’t seem inclined to answer that particular question, so I did it for him.

“It was him,” I said. “Here on Friday night.”

Bishop’s glare turned into a glower. “Why wouldn’t you explain what it meant to her? What she could expect? It was the least you could do.”

“Luckily for her, you filled her in on the details. Didn’t you?” Stephen walked an appraising circle around Bishop. “I don’t know you. You’re not one of us, which makes me wonder what business it is of yours what I do.”

“Trust me, it’s my business.”

Stephen shrugged. “She liked it. She was practically begging me to kiss her.”

He was such a jerk. Begging? Hardly.

A muscle in Bishop’s cheek twitched. “She didn’t understand what it meant.”

“She’s with me now.” Stephen drew closer, as if challenging Bishop to push him back. “You got a problem with that?”

“Excuse me?” I snapped. “I’m with you? Not the last time I checked.”

He gave me an amused look. “You’ll get used to the idea eventually. Be happy about it, even.”

“Don’t count on it.”

“Where’s the Source?” Bishop asked evenly. “Is it you?”

Stephen didn’t speak for a moment, but then he laughed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do. The one who created you. Created all of you. I need to talk to him or her. Soon. We have important things to discuss.”

Stephen grabbed hold of the front of Bishop’s T-shirt. “No, what I think you need to do is leave now. And Samantha is going to stay right here with me, where she belongs. Give her a few minutes and she’ll be enjoying herself. She might be only seventeen, but that’s more than old enough for the fun I have planned for her.”

The next moment, Stephen gasped as the tip of the golden dagger pressed up under his chin.

Stephen’s chest moved in and out as his breathing increased. “Get that thing away from me.”

“Why would I? From what you’ve told me so far, I’m thinking you’re just a minion. You’re meaningless. You turned an underage girl against her will and gave her the hunger. I don’t care if she wanted to kiss you or not. She didn’t know what it meant. You didn’t explain it. That she isn’t now consuming souls all over the city is her saving grace in my eyes. She’s different than the rest of you. She’s special.”

There was that word again in relation to yours truly. Special.

Bishop had finally gotten the attention of the others hanging out in the lounge area, but not one made a move to help Stephen. Couldn’t say I blamed them. That knife was very sharp.

And—oh, boy. I think it was glowing a little, just like Bishop’s eyes had last night. That was no normal knife. And Bishop was no normal guy.

But I already knew that.

The corner of Stephen’s mouth turned up in a half grimace, half grin. “You’re going to kill me right here? In the middle of a club full of kids? You’ll never get out in one piece.”

“Nice of you to worry about my well-being. Thanks for that. Now, why don’t you make things easier on both of us. Where is the Source?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then you’re not much use to me, are you?” Bishop dug the sharp tip of the knife deep enough that a thin trail of blood ran down Stephen’s throat.

Stephen’s voice turned pitchy. “She doesn’t just stroll in here shaking hands and kissing babies. I don’t find her, she finds me.”

“At least now I know it’s a she.”

An edge of defeat went through Stephen’s eyes. “Are you going to kill me?”

“And risk opening up the Hollow in here? Not tonight.”

Stephen frowned. “The Hollow?”

Bishop gave him a wry grin. “Guess your boss hasn’t told you everything, has she? Sucks for you. When was the last time you fed?”

“Friday. With Samantha. The others here aren’t feeding.”

“And why is that?” Bishop actually looked amused by this. “You know what happens if you feed too much? Have you seen it with your own eyes?”

Stephen’s expression shadowed and, if you ask me, went a little green. “The one you’re calling the Source tells us what to do. She warned us what could happen if we get too greedy, and most of us believed her.”

“Does she come here?”

“No. This is where I hang out. She’s never been here before.”

Bishop’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t approach Samantha again.”

“I didn’t approach her. She came here.”

“I don’t care. From this moment forward, she’s under my protection.”

“Your protection? Who the hell are you?”

“Tell your boss that this entire city is now protected by me and others like me and I will find her for that conversation I mentioned. I’m sure she already knows she can’t leave—that none of you can. You’re trapped. There’s an invisible barrier surrounding this entire city that things like you can’t breach.”

Stephen frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“That’s painfully obvious.” Bishop finally let him go and Stephen staggered back a couple steps. His gaze returned to the golden dagger as Bishop sheathed it. “By the way, if I ever see you again, I will kill you, whether you’re feeding regularly or not. Have a nice night.”

Then he turned, took my arm and guided me down the stairs.

Nobody followed us.

chapter 7

At the bottom of the spiral staircase, I forced myself to pull away from Bishop’s firm but strangely comforting grip. I wanted to find Carly and get out of here as soon as possible.

He eyed me. “You’re welcome.”

A million insults swelled inside me, battling with gratitude and relief. “You think you can just push me around like that?”

He didn’t look much friendlier than I felt. “What were you thinking, coming here and seeking him out? Are you looking for trouble?”

“Have you been following me? Hiding in the bushes? Do you have a pair of binoculars trained on my bedroom window, too? Trust me … I always pull the blinds before I get naked.” I shivered at how close he stood to me even though his brief touch had filled me with warmth again.

He seemed at a loss for words, as if he wasn’t sure how to reply to my “naked” comment. His eyes burned into mine. “Are you always this irrational or is this just my lucky night?”

I took a deep breath. I wondered when the serenity Stephen mentioned might start. Not tonight, that was for sure. “Where’s Kraven? Is he stalking me, too?”

His mouth went tight. “I’m not stalking you. Once I met you, touched you, I became able to track you. It’s a talent I have—one of the very few I haven’t managed to lose.”

“Oh, that sounds much better. Tracking me. Nothing weird about that.” I was wearing heels tonight, but he still towered over me, overwhelming me with his very presence.

“You could have been hurt confronting that thing up there, you know. Not the smartest move.”

“Says the guy with the big, sharp, glowy concealed weapon.”

“Tell me what happened.”

For someone who just last night had turned from confused yet charming to murderous and angry, he now looked genuinely concerned. After guiding me out of sight of the jerk on the second floor, he took a step back from me and didn’t attempt to touch me again.

Fine with me. Even though my skin tingled from where he’d had his hand on me and I still had a hard time catching my breath being anywhere near him, I didn’t want him to touch me again. No way.

I crossed my arms. “I wanted to know how to get my—my soul back. Before that I wanted to know if it was even true, that it was gone. I don’t feel any different.”

His blue eyes met mine directly. “Yes, you do.”

“What, are you in my head or something? I don’t. I’m hungry, yeah, and I’m always cold, but other than that there’s nothing wrong with me.”

“Which is one of the things that is wrong. You should feel different.”

“But I don’t.”

He scanned the club as if assessing it for incoming threats. I was surprised he hadn’t insisted we leave, but I wasn’t going anywhere until I found Carly again. He was the one who should leave. Even though it was a weeknight, the music down here—as opposed to the shielded upstairs lounge—was loud. I had to stay closer to Bishop than I liked in order to hear him. Close enough to smell him—and he smelled just as good tonight as he had last night. Warm, clean, spicy. Maybe it was a special angels-only cologne.

I forced myself to take a step back.

“How are your hungers right now?” he asked.

“Bad.” They’d ramped up to an impossible-to-ignore level in the past few minutes, actually. I eyed a passing tray of chicken wings. “Maybe I should eat something.”

“You think food will satisfy you?”

“I’m not loving the alternative.” My attention was irresistibly drawn to his mouth. “Unless you’re volunteering.”

Immediately my cheeks heated. Where had that come from?

He raked a hand through his short, dark hair. “Sorry, but angels don’t have souls. I wouldn’t be able to help your hunger very much.” He watched me with cautious interest, as if he expected me to burst into flames at any moment.

My face was blazing, and now I had a vivid and unwelcome image of kissing Bishop lodged in my head and couldn’t shake it loose. Angels didn’t have souls. Okay. I added that to my very limited knowledge about him. “I wasn’t sure who I hated more, you or Kraven, but I’ve decided that it’s you.”

He didn’t seem surprised. “And what brought me ahead in the race?”

“The fact that I originally liked you.” That seemed to shut him up. Nice to know that the crazy angel had no comeback for once. Speaking of … “How’s your head?”

“It’s been better. I don’t like feeling this way.”

“But you’re feeling relatively okay now?”

We were tucked into a corner, away from everyone, but he still looked around to check whether anyone was eavesdropping, even though the music was more than loud enough to shield us. “No. The confusion hasn’t gone away. It’s still circling. It’ll come back … it’s only a matter of time.”

“Kraven seemed fine.”

That earned me a sharp look. “Kraven was protected when he entered the city. I was not. That’s why he had to go through the ritual, so his true self could be returned to him.”

I stared at the darkly gorgeous but annoying angel. “Your lips are moving but I’m not understanding a word.”

“Seems to be the theme of the week.”

I glanced around the club for Carly and spotted her chatting with a couple of our friends. I hoped she’d be done soon so we could leave—the sooner the better. Reassured of her safety, I turned back to Bishop. “So the ritual involves you stabbing him with that big, shiny knife of yours.”

“Yes.”

I shuddered at the memory. “Sounds like the stupidest ritual ever created.”

“His temporarily mortal form had to die in order to be reborn with his memories and his true self returned. And, yes, it has to be done with this big, shiny knife of mine.”

I swear, most of the time it felt like he was making fun of me. “So demons can be stabbed in the chest and just bounce back from it like it’s no big deal?”

“Regular knives won’t hurt demons. They’re immortal, just like angels. This dagger, however, is very special.”

Why was I still talking to him, edging closer to him with every moment that passed? Why couldn’t I just turn away and go get Carly?

I shook my head. “I’m officially not a part of this. I’m walking away, going back to my normal life, okay? And that means I don’t want you anywhere near me—tracking, stalking, harassing, whatever.”

He hissed out a sigh. “You can’t be normal again, Samantha. You’re a gray now. It’s been confirmed both to me and to you. Even though you’re different from the others, it doesn’t change what you are. What you need.”

To kiss someone. Badly. Even a soulless, dangerous, and frustrating angel. My cheeks now flushed more from anger than embarrassment. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know exactly what I’m talking about. I’m here because of grays. That’s why the others are here as well, like … Kraven.” He said the demon’s name with distaste. “Grays can’t leave the city—no supernatural can. I need to find the Source. She’s the one who’s responsible for this new infestation. It’s like a disease that will keep spreading if we don’t stop it. And we’ll use force to stop grays whenever necessary.”

I didn’t think it was possible, but I felt even colder at that. “With that shiny dagger of yours?”

“Grays consume souls. If they give in to their hunger, it can kill a weaker human. Stronger humans can survive losing their soul, but they will become infected—they’ll become a gray, too. Being gray changes them, and grays who feed too much, get too greedy, are incredibly dangerous. I’ve already seen it.”

Fear shuddered through me. “Change how?”

His gaze searched mine as if he was looking for more answers there. “Being soulless seems to strip humanity and reason away from the very start. But if a gray feeds, it makes it more uncontrollable.”

“But I don’t have a soul and I feel the same as I ever did. I definitely know right from wrong.”

Bishop’s dark brows drew together, still searching my face as if he couldn’t look away. “You’re different. I don’t know why or how it’s possible, but you are. Maybe it’s because you haven’t fed yet at all. You can’t give in to the hunger, Samantha, or it will change you.”

I realized I’d moved so close to him that my hand brushed against his. I took a shaky step back. “You’re lying to me. About all of this.”

“Angels don’t lie.”

I gaped at him. “I still don’t believe you’re an angel.”

“Do you believe Kraven is a demon?”

“I don’t know.” I blinked, thinking back to the scene in the alley last night. I frowned. “Do you have a tattoo like he does? Is that some sort of a sign of what you are?”

“It’s not a tattoo. Our wings are made of energy that isn’t visible or accessible in the human world. But their imprint remains on us.”

“Show me.”

He just looked at me. “You can’t just take my word for it?”

“No. Show me your … your imprint, or whatever it is.”

“Will that be enough to convince you?”

“I don’t know.”

He gave me a stern look. “I don’t take orders from anyone. I’m the leader on this mission.”

I felt sick and confused, but determined, too. All I could focus on was one thing at a time or I would be overwhelmed. More overwhelmed.

“Here’s how I see it, Bishop. You were sent here to take care of a problem. I’m part of that problem, according to you. However, you already figured out that I’m different, I’m … special. I saw that light in the sky when you couldn’t—and you don’t know if you’ll be able to. You can’t find the others, not without me. And you have only a short time to find them or they’ll be lost forever.”

He didn’t look pleased by the reminder that he wasn’t necessarily the one in charge at the moment. That gave me the strength to continue.

“That guy up there.” I thrust my thumb in the direction of the upstairs lounge. “No question that he’s a total creep, but he also promised to help me. He said I was like him, like the others. That I had a place to belong now. So my question is, why would I want to have anything to do with you—another jerk who nearly killed me last night—when I can go hang out with my new friends?”

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