five in the evening, we were able to sneak into the house and wait for her there.
By sneaking, I meant that I scooped up the extra key Stacey always left under the huge potted palm tree on the back patio and we let ourselves in.
I breathed in the faint scent of apples and pumpkin, committing the smell to memory. Stacey’s mom had a thing for wall plug-ins that always made her house smell like a toasty fall afternoon.
Roth trailed behind me and I had a feeling he was checking out my ass. The clothing that he and Cayman had “picked up” for me wasn’t stuff I’d normally wear. Dresses, skintight jeans that I had to lie down to put on, leather pants and a whole slew of second-skin sweaters.
Today I wore a pair of white jeans and a black sweater that made me feel as if I was seconds away from stripping off my clothes and finding the nearest pole.
I glanced over my shoulder and Roth raised a brow as one side of his lips slipped up. “Can you walk in front of me?”
He chuckled deeply. “Not in this lifetime.”
Shooting him a quick glare, I hurried into the living room. Stacey would be arriving any moment and with some luck, Sam would be with her. Both Roth and I figured it would be safer not to tell her I was coming, and we’d circled her neighborhood a half a dozen times before parking three blocks down. Roth had felt that his Porsche was too noticeable, so he’d borrowed Cayman’s car.
Which was a vintage Mustang. Yeah, real inconspicuous there.
I sat on the edge of the couch, clasping my hands together.
Roth lingered by the stone gas fireplace. “Want to be naughty and make out on their couch?”
My mouth dropped open.
“Or we can do it on the kitchen counters.” He winked. “Of course, bedrooms would not only make us naughty, but also very dirty.”
Heat swept over my cheeks, and he laughed. “You should see the look on your face.”
“You’re a pervert,” I said, fighting a grin.
Roth shrugged. “Of all the things someone could call me, that’s hardly the worst.”
“And probably the most true,” I muttered.
He laughed again.
From the front of the house I heard the front door open and I lurched to my feet. I started forward, but Roth beat me to it. He was at the entrance to the living room before I’d taken a step.
Stacey shrieked out in the hallway. “What the—? Roth, you scared the crap out of me!”
“Sorry,” he drawled smoothly.
“Where have you been? Where’s Layla? How did you...?” She trailed off as she appeared in the doorway.
I smiled when I saw her, suddenly weak in the legs. It was relief...sweet, beautiful relief. Her aura was there, like it had always been—a soft shade of green. Not a pure soul by any means, but she was okay. I didn’t understand how since I’d been in constant contact with her, but she was normal and that was all that mattered.
Her backpack thumped off the floor as she spotted me. “Oh my God, Layla, where have you been? I’ve been so worried!” She rushed forward, but I raised a hand, warding her off. She stopped short. “What?”
“Don’t come too close. I’m...well, I’m not sure it would be safe for you to do so.”
She frowned as she glanced at Roth and then me. “Why wouldn’t it be safe to be near you? And where in the Hell have you been? Everyone has been worried. Sam thinks you got kidnapped by those Church people and Zayne has been—”
“What about him?” Roth cut in, stepping close to Stacey. His voice had dropped. Tension dripped off him.
Stacey’s eyes widened as she took a step back. She swallowed hard. “He’s stopped over a few times, asking if I’ve heard from Layla. That’s all.”
My heart pounded against my ribs like a wild animal trying to escape a cage. “How...did he seem okay?”
She looked even more confused by the question. “He seemed normal. Just really worried and upset. Like me.” Her eyes darted over to Roth. “What’s going on, guys?”
“When was the last time Zayne came by here?” The fact that Roth wasn’t referring to him as Stony proved the direness of the situation.
“He stopped by yesterday, around this time. He’s been stopping by every day since—”
Roth swore as he turned to me. “I told you this was a bad idea. We need to leave.”
“Wait!” she screeched, stomping her foot. “No one is leaving until someone tells me what is going on!”
“We have time,” I told Roth. “No one is busting down the doors right now.”
“Yeah, right now.” He faced me, shoulders stiff. “I know you don’t want to think this and while I don’t think he would intentionally ever harm you, I can’t say the same for the others who’ll follow him. Who’ve probably been following him every time he comes here.”
“I do think that, Roth. I’m not stupid. I know we need to leave soon, but Stacey deserves to know what’s going on.”
“Damn straight,” she piped up. “Crown Prince or not, how about sitting down and shutting the Hell up?”
Roth’s brows climbed his forehead and then he laughed. “It’s a good thing I like you.”
“Everyone likes me,” she retorted. Then, taking a deep breath, she looked at me. “What’s happened?”
“You might want to sit down for this,” I suggested.
For a moment she looked as if she’d argue, but finally she sat. I gave her a quick rundown of what had happened, not offering too much detail on the cage or torture parts. That wasn’t anything I wanted to relive. By the time I finished, she was pale and shaken.
“God, Layla, I...I don’t know what to say. I want to give you a hug, but you’re going to freak if I get that close, aren’t you?”
I bit down on my lip. “I don’t know exactly how I’m infecting people, but it...it has to be me.”
Tears filled her dark eyes. “No. I refuse to believe that. It’s not in you, even if you don’t know how it’s happening.”
I smiled at her, really wanting to hug her. “Thank you, but...”
She shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense. Why aren’t I infected? Or Sam? You’re around us more than anyone else.”
“We don’t know,” Roth said. “But that’s something we’re going to try to figure out.”
Running the back of her hands under her eyes, she sniffed and then dropped her hands to her lap. “What are you going to do? You can’t just leave.”
My stomach ached. “I have to, Stacey. At least until I figure out how I’m doing this.”
“What about school? You won’t graduate. High school, Layla.”
“I think she knows that,” Roth replied drily. “But thank you for pointing it out.”
Her mouth trembled. “I’m sorry, but that’s just a big deal. What will you do with your life? How will you—”
“She’ll be fine,” Roth said firmly.
I sighed. “I don’t know yet. Maybe I can get my GED and take online college classes until I figure this out.”
Stacey stood from the recliner, shaking her head. “That’s not right.”
No. It wasn’t.
She started to pace. “There has to be something we can do. This cannot be your only—”
Roth went rigid as though concrete had been poured down his spine. He swore as he whipped toward me. I was already on my feet, because only one thing would cause that reaction.
“What is it?” Stacey asked, looking around.
“There’s a Warden nearby—close,” Roth answered.
My hands curled in as static danced over my skin. “What time did you say Zayne usually comes by?”
“Around this time, maybe a little later.” Her eyes widened. “He would never hurt you, Layla.”
“I know,” I said, and I hoped we were both right. I had no idea how Zayne would view me now after I’d hurt him.
“A Warden will know we’re here. He’ll be able to sense us.” Roth turned, his features sharpening. “This will—”
A door crashed open and Stacey shrieked. It came from the back of the house, the same one we’d entered through and locked behind us, as if we’d been tracked right up to the door. But I knew Zayne was ridiculously skilled when it came to picking locks. And I knew it was him. The faint winter-mint scent teased my senses.
Roth was suddenly in front of me, but I stepped around him. I wasn’t going to cower or hide. Just as my heart leaped in my throat, a shadow fell across the entry to the living room and then Zayne was standing there.
I had a feeling if a hundred people were in the room, he still would’ve found me immediately. His gaze locked on to mine, and the first thing I noticed was his aura. It was still white and beautiful, but it had dulled a little, like a lightbulb about to go out. And he looked terrible.
Dark smudges crept under his eyes like a faint ink stain. Stubble covered his usually smooth cheeks and there was tension in his jaw. Had I done this to him when I’d taken a piece of his soul?
Zayne stumbled as he took a step toward me, and it was as if he couldn’t move any farther. “Layla,” he said, the one word sounding broken. It was like a bow snapping. Some of the tautness in his body seeped out. His shoulders sagged.
“Were you followed?” Roth asked.
All he did was stare at me, his face pale and his chest rising in deep breaths.
A low growl emanated from Roth. “Were you followed?”
Stacey took a healthy step back. “I feel like I need to get out of the way.”
Zayne shook his head. “No.”
His answer did nothing to relieve Roth. “How can you be sure?”
“They don’t have any reason to follow me,” he said, and then he blinked. “God, Layla, I...I’m so sorry.”
Taken aback, I placed my hand against my chest. “Why would you apologize? I hurt—”
“I know what they did to you.” He finally looked at Roth. “Whatever you did, however you helped her, thank you. I can never repay for you that. Ever.”
Whoa.
Even Roth looked a little knocked off his game by that. There was no smart-ass response. All he did was nod in return, and then Zayne’s gaze returned to mine. He shook his head, and my chest tightened.
A knock on the front door raised the hairs along the nape of my neck.
“That wouldn’t be a Warden, would it?” Stacey asked. “I doubt they’d knock, right?”
Zayne didn’t take his brilliant teal eyes off me. “They wouldn’t knock, but I’m telling you, I wasn’t followed. They think...they think she’s dead.”
Roth’s lips curled, revealing fangs. He started toward Zayne, and I knew that even though he was aware that Zayne hadn’t been responsible for anything, he wanted to shed blood over it—any Warden blood.
Reaching forward, I wrapped my hand around his arm. “Don’t. You know this isn’t his fault. Don’t fight him. Please.”
He eyeballed Zayne as if he wanted to finger paint with his entrails. Finally, he turned sideways and leaned in so that when he spoke, his breath danced along my temple. “Only because you asked. Only because of that.”
Zayne closed his eyes. The knock came again.
“Uh, I’m going to go answer that,” said Stacey, and then she mouthed, awkward.
Roth pulled free. “I’ll go with you.” As he strutted past Zayne, he cast him a look of warning. “Don’t make me regret the fact I’m letting you continue to breathe.”
A muscle popped in his jaw, but Zayne kept his lips sealed. Once Roth and Stacey were out in the hall, I took a breath I didn’t need.
“I...I don’t know what to say,” I whispered, curling my arms around my waist. “But I’m sorry for hurting you. I didn’t mean to. I know that doesn’t make it okay, because what I did was so—”
“Stop,” Zayne said, and his voice cracked. “Stop apologizing, Layla. None of this was your fault. You don’t understand. So much has happened.” He broke off, taking a step forward. “I don’t care what you did to me or what has happened, but it’s not you. It can’t be.”
“Zayne,” I whispered, pleaded really.
“There is a wraith at the house,” he continued, and I blinked, unsure whether I heard him right. “It’s Petr. Geoff caught it on camera not too long after what...God, what my clan—your clan—did to you....” He swallowed thickly and I swore his eyes got misty. “They think you died. Even Nicolai wasn’t confident that he got Roth there in time, but I knew you weren’t dead. I would know in here.” He thumped his hand against his chest. “I would know if a part of my heart was gone.”
I sucked in a breath as the voices in the hall grew closer and then Stacey and Roth had returned. Behind them was a tall and slender Sam, and the air whooshed out of my lungs as if someone had drop-kicked me in my chest.
My knees shook as I took a step back and my brain didn’t want to process what I was seeing, but there was no denying it. In my chest, my heart cracked wide-open.
Zayne’s brows knitted as he focused on me. “Layla?”
The room spun a little. I was vaguely aware of the way Roth was moving, angling his body toward mine so that he was standing beside me, but every ounce of my being was focused on Sam
He stood in the doorway and cocked his head to the side, his expression elusive and a bit curious. Everything about him looked normal. Normal by the “new Sam” standards—his artfully messy hair, his stylish clothes and the shiny confidence he wore like an expensive pair of designer jeans. Sam had changed.
But it wasn’t normal at all.
His smile spread, causing his eyes to twinkle. “Layla? Are you okay?”
The tone of his voice was now like having someone drag nails down my skin. I drew in a breath and suddenly—oh my God—suddenly I understood. It all made sense in a sickening way. I just couldn’t see it until now.
“I know,” I whispered, horrified.
Confusion marked Stacey’s features as she folded her arms. “Know what?”
“Ah,” Sam cooed softly. “The light dawns. About time, too, because I was seriously beginning to doubt your intelligence, sister.”
Ice blasted into the room as understanding swept through Roth and he growled low in his throat.
Sam’s gaze flicked to where Roth stood, but he appeared wholly unaffected by the violence rolling off the Crown Prince. But I was blown away and if I thought my world had shattered earlier, I’d been wrong. It was smashed to pieces now.
There was no aura around him. Nothing. Like with Roth and all demons, there was just a vast, empty space. But with Roth, that was expected. Not with Sam.
Sam had no soul.
Oh, but it was more than that. A human didn’t just lose their soul. They either had one or they didn’t, and if they didn’t, they were dead—wraiths. Only something inhuman could rock the no-soul glow. Or something totally possessed.
Zayne had just said there had been a wraith at the compound. It had been Petr doing those things. Not me. And the crone’s words resurfaced. We had perceived everything she’d said wrong. What we’d been seeking had been right in front of us the entire time and it had been someone who’d always been around me, who mostly had contact with the same people I did. At one point I’d even said it when I’d discovered that the lady in the Palisades had died—that the only other option was that the Lilin was following me around, but I had disregarded that idea, immediately believing the worst of myself.
Paimon’s ritual had worked that night that now felt so long ago. It had never been my virginity that had been the key to the spell. Cayman had hit the nail on the head when he said it only had to be a carnal sin. My blood had been spilled that night, it had burnt through the floor, and there had been a cocoon in the basement of the school, which was a part of the ritual—my blood needed to be spilled.
Bambi had affected my abilities, but only for the good, I realized. She hadn’t caused me to suck out souls by being around other people. She had helped me, because all the terrible things hadn’t been me, but I felt no relief.
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