The back door bangs open, and I race through the dining room in time to see a flash of golden hair before it disappears into the night.
“Wait!”
I race to the open doorway only to stop short when a red-eyed beast steps into view. It looms way too close and is coming at me way too fast.
I scramble backward and bump into something behind me. My free hand touches heaving fur, and I jerk away with nowhere to run.
The red-eyed monster’s gaze shifts from me to whatever’s pressing in behind me.
The stone in my hand grows warm then hot.
“Elidi, don’t open—” Aerina’s voice stabs through the silence then cuts short.
I peer around the beast’s shoulders in time to see a hand appear out of thin air. It wraps around Aerina’s wrist and yanks hard. She loses her balance and begins to fall, but she doesn’t make it to the ground before she’s swallowed up into some sort of black hole.
The grass where she stood is blackened and smoking, but Aerina is gone.
I’m alone.
The beast before me screeches, squeezing into the doorway.
Panic claws at me, and my mind screams for me to run. I turn and trip, having forgotten the furry presence. My face connects with the floor, and the beast shrieks. When I roll over and open my eyes, a large wolf stares down at me.
The wolf shoves me with its nose, and I scramble up, stumbling toward the living room. Behind me, the beast in the doorway bellows in frustration and wiggles against the creaking wood.
The front door bangs open, revealing a second red-eyed creature.
I jump backward, and the stone falls out of my hand. The edge of it catches on the coffee table, and the rectangular stone springs open, becoming a box.
From inside, something dark leaps out straight at me. Before it can land, the wolf leaps, knocking me sideways. My head hits the floor, and everything swirls above me. Something lands on my shoulder with enough force that I scream. I look down and see a dark liquid swirling toward my chest. My skin burns as the liquid burrows through it and inside me. I curl against the wolf, clutching my stomach as the burning grows hotter, spreading over my hip.
The beast at the front retreats to get a running start at the door. The force of its momentum sends it crashing through the narrow doorframe.
The wolf scrambles off me and sinks its teeth into the monster’s front leg. The horse-beast screams so loudly I clutch my ears and close my eyes. However, the worst of the agony emanates from the burning in my chest. Whatever that stone contained, it feels like it’s poisoning me from the inside.
Then, suddenly, everything stops.
The screaming dies. The pain recedes.
When I open my eyes, the red-eyed monsters are gone, and my living room is destroyed.
I lift my head, and something moves near the front door.
The wolf I’d spied from the window earlier. And, it is as huge as I’d imagined it and with thick fur the color of vanilla cream.
Our eyes meet, and the wolf stares unwaveringly back at me.
In that small space lies every single possible future my life contains. I see stars and suns and moons—and death. Lots and lots of death. But I also see love. The kind that moves mountains and melts, well, panties. The kind I’d always thought only existed in movies.
It’s the damnedest, craziest, wildest moment of my entire life. Including any of the psycho daymares that have knocked me off park benches.
Warm breath hits my face thanks to its half-open mouth, and I blink through my tears, certain I’m seeing some sort of panic-induced illusion.
“Am I dead? Because this is crazy, and I think it makes way more sense that I’m dead and you’re . . . an angel?” I cock my head because that doesn’t quite make sense either.
The beast’s eyes widen, and I could swear it quirks a brow at me.
Outside, the rushing of the wind turns into what sounds like the beating of wings. The wolf’s eyes narrow as it glances at the open door. Before I can ask any more questions about my entry into the afterlife, a voice rings out in my head.
If you want to avoid the same fate as your aunt, we have to go. Now.
I shriek and scramble backward into the corner underneath the bar counter that separates the living room from the kitchen. A stool topples over next to me, crashing loudly between us, and the wolf huffs.
Its eyes lock onto mine. I know you hear me. Listen, we have to go. They’re almost here.
Outside, the sound of wings grows louder, and I realize whoever “they” are, the voice in my head is right. They’re getting closer. And after the craziness I’ve witnessed so far, dead or not, I don’t want to be here to meet them. But I’m also not going to go anywhere with a giant, telepathic wolf.
“Stay back,” I yell, but my words are nearly lost over the sound of what can only be hoofbeats. On my roof.
The pain in my chest returns with a pang, and I notice for the first time that the wolf has a matching black spot on his own chest. What the hell was in that stone?
The wolf huffs with impatience and starts walking toward me.
This time, rather than retreat, I bolt. Or I try to.
I straighten too quickly, and the top of my already-bruised head hits the underside of the bar—hard. Pain shoots from the top of my head straight down to my toes. The world spins then tilts, and I lean way too hard to the right.
I go down swinging. My fist brushes along thick fur, and the last thing I see before I’m dragged under is a flash of white light shooting out from my own hand.
Chapter Two
“Miss? Miss, can you hear me?”
I gasp, inhaling frantically as if I’ve been underwater again, and open my eyes. I look around with wild, jerky movements.
“Miss?”
“I hear you.”
The living room is destroyed. The coffee table is in splinters with a large chunk of it sticking out of the couch which is upturned against the far wall. The barstool is charred and smoking lightly at my feet. The front door is completely gone. So is the enormous wolf.
“Where are your parents?”
I try to focus on the man kneeling before me. He’s not alone. Two more strangers—one man, one woman, in matching jackets—walk into the house. Paramedics.
“Were you alone?” he asks.
I remember Aerina being sucked away into thin air. She’s gone. I am alone.
“My aunt’s not here,” I say.
“Where did she go?” he asks.
An invisible fist grips my heart and squeezes as I remember Aerina’s last words to me.
“No one else is home,” the female paramedic announces as she reappears from upstairs. “Upstairs window is shattered, and the place is a mess just like down here.”
I start to shake, and the man covers me with a blanket.
“What happened here?” he asks, leaning in close to hold my gaze.
“Something was in the house,” I say. “Something loud.”
“Loud how?” he asks. “What kind of noise did it make?”
“Screaming. The sound broke the window.”
“Is that how it got inside? The window?” the man asks.
I shake my head.
“Door was wide open, sir,” the male paramedic says.
“Door’s in the yard,” the female paramedic adds.
“No forced entry?” I look up at the new voice. A police officer stands by the door, looking at the remains of my home.
“Miss? What is your name?” the paramedic kneeling beside me asks.
“Her name is Elidi.” The sound of my name coming from a familiar voice is like a lifeline to me.
“Finn?”
I scramble away from the paramedic, racing across the glass-strewn floor. Finn opens his arms and catches me in his strong embrace. His hands stroke over my messy hair. I bury myself against his flannel and squeeze my eyes shut, shaking and crying.
“Elidi,” Finn says quietly against my ear.
In his arms, some of the panic melts away. I’m not completely alone.
“You guys go to school together or something?” I hear the officer ask.
“Her name is Elidi Brant. She’s homeschooled. I live down the road. Came to check on her when I heard the sirens.”
“Do you know what happened here?” the officer asks.
There’s a pause, and I know Finn’s finally taking in the destruction. “Mother of . . . What happened, El?” he asks.
“Someone broke in,” I say. The words don’t begin to cover what happened, but they’re the closest thing I can say that anyone would believe.
From the yard, an engine shuts off, and car doors slam. I glance out the open door, and my eyes widen at the sight of all the emergency vehicles parked out front. Two ambulances, three police cars, and a fire truck light up the night sky in bright red, white, and blue strobe patterns.
“Who called you?” I ask.
“We got an anonymous tip there was a home invasion,” he answers uncertainly. “It wasn’t you?”
I frown, a few more tears leaking out without my permission. “No. I was busy trying not to get killed.”
“We’ll need a statement,” the officer says quietly.
Finn nods. “Of course. Give us a moment.”
Finn switches his hold on me, scooping me up and carrying me around the corner and into the dining room. He sets me down gently in one of the dining room chairs then kneels in front of me.
The back door is closed and looks deceivingly untouched. I wonder if maybe I imagined the horse-monster trying to fit through the narrow frame, its red eyes glowing and breath puffing from its angry snout. Maybe Aerina’s fine. Just out for a jog or donuts or—
“Look at me, El.”
I look at Finn. His brown eyes stare steadily back at me.
“Tell me what happened,” he says.
His voice is clear, free from any trace of suspicion or disbelief. And just like that, the grief hits.
My bottom lip trembles with the effort to keep from breaking down. My cold hands turn clammy, but I reach for Finn anyway, desperate to keep him from leaving. I can’t lose him too. He’s all I have left.
“Don’t leave me,” I say, and my voice breaks.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises me. His honey-brown eyes swim with worry, but there’s a sort of unshakeable confidence in Finn that I’ve always admired and that I desperately want to borrow now. “I just wanted to give you some breathing room. It’s crowded in there.”
I nod, unable to trust my voice. What would I do without Finn? Especially now?
“Where is Aerina, El?”
“She’s gone,” I whisper, and tears spill instantly down my cheeks.
“What happened?” Finn whispers back. His hands are warm on my knees, and I lean in, wanting to soak up more of the comfort his solid presence offers.
“I don’t know. There was something here when we got home. It followed us inside, and it was screaming so loud. Aerina gave me a crystal and told me to stand inside the symbol.”
“What symbol?” he asks.
“A star or something? It’s in her room. I—I couldn’t stay there. Not when she was down here with it.” My voice breaks again. More tears fall.
I sniffle, and Finn’s hands rub up and down against my leggings. Reassurance. I’m not alone.
“Did you see it?” he asks.
“I saw red eyes. It sounds crazy, I know, but—”
“Not crazy. Different,” he says in a voice I’ve never heard him use before. “Did Aerina say anything before she left?”
I cock my head. “She didn’t leave, Finn. She was taken.”
“Of course. That’s what I meant.” He shakes his head. “Did she say anything else?”
“She locked me in the bedroom. The knob was hot, and I . . .” I blink, my memory flitting from one moment to another. “She said I was the light and that she loved me.”
“How did you get out if the knob was so hot?”
“I . . . I waited, and then it just cooled.” I frown. “What does that have to do with anything?”
He shrugs. “I just want to understand. You’ve been through a lot.”
I nod. Of course. He’s right. But something about his questions still bothers me. And then I realize something unusual.
The symbol. He didn’t even ask what it looked like. Or what Aerina could have meant by calling me the light.
Through the haze of grief, I realize he’s not asking any of the questions I would have expected. He’s not nearly as confused as I would be. As I am.
I wonder what he’d say if I told him about the wolf who’d shown up to protect me. About the inky poison inside the broken stone and how it knocked us both across the room before soaking right into my skin without a scratch or stain. Or about the flash of light that shot from my own hand just before I passed out.
“What did the monsters look like?” Finn asks again.
This time, I hesitate. Some small voice in my mind whispers a warning, and I listen. Even though I hate the suspicion growing like a third wheel between us, I pretend.
Pressing my lips together, I shake my head. “Aerina’s all I had Finn. The only family left. What am I going to do now?”
Something dangerous and foreign flashes in Finn’s eyes. Something I’ve never seen from him before. It’s slippery and gone before I can catch hold of what it all means.
Finally, he blows out a breath and runs a hand through his dirty blond hair. His eyes do a scan of the room, but I already know he’s not seeing anything here. He’s thinking ahead. Finn always does.
“It’s going to be okay, El. Listen, the cops need to know what you told me. I need to tell them to check the upstairs bedrooms. I’m just going to pass on the information, and then I’ll be right back. They’ll want to hear it from you directly though. I need you to tell them, okay? Can you do that?”
His eyes are soft and so Finn-like that I tell myself I imagined any weirdness.
“Sure,” I say. For Aerina.
“Good girl.” He pushes to his feet then drops a quick kiss to the top of my head before turning for the door. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”
Before he can get two steps, the officer appears, and I know without a shadow of a doubt he’s heard every word we’ve just said. Finn glares at him, and I know he’s just as pissed as I am about it. But he relays my story and then stands beside me while I repeat it one more time.
Then, things begin to move more slowly.
The officer disappears to check the bedroom.
He returns with more questions though none of them involve a weird symbol, and I do my best to answer. One by one, two more officers and the paramedic from earlier come visit me in the dining room with questions of their own.
Thanks to Finn’s digging around, Aerina’s photo is provided and will run on the evening news as a missing person. It’s very surreal.
One of the paramedics examines me. I’m cleared, and they leave.
A social worker arrives. As a minor by only a couple of months, it’s required.
More questions are asked.
Through it all, Finn remains glued to me, and the weight of his hand on my shoulder keeps me grounded. I cry—a lot. But I also manage to answer every question they ask. Finally, the police give up on trying to get me to remember any more details, and they leave. Only Finn and the social worker, Amy-something, remain.
“Finn, do you think you could put some clothes in a bag for Elidi?” Amy asks.
I’m jolted out of my reverie and into the conversation as I realize she’s trying to make him leave the room. “A bag?” I repeat, trying to think through the fog.
“You can come back for more when we have a more permanent place for you,” she says almost like an apology.
“Where am I going?” I ask.
Amy’s expression falls. “You’ll have to stay at Ferndale House until we figure this all out,” she says.
�
��Ferndale House?”
“I went over it with you a few minutes ago.”
“Oh.” My brain is fuzzy.
Amy looks up at Finn who is like a sentry on my left. His hand rubs slow circles into my shoulder blade as she tells him, “Elidi will need enough for two or three days. Can you pack that for her?”
Rather than answer her, Finn drops into a crouch beside me. “El?” he asks, his honey-brown gaze searching mine. “Will you be all right without me?”
I open my mouth to tell him no, but he beats me to it, adding, “Look. Through the window. The sun is coming up.”
I look over, and sure enough, the sky is lightening to a soft gray with tinges of pink showing through the bare trees.
He turns back to me. “Two minutes,” he promises.
At the sight of the sunrise, something inside me uncurls a little, and I exhale, nodding. “Okay.”
Finn rises and steps past me on near-silent feet despite his heavy boots. I look back at Amy in time to see her attempt a smile. It’s tired and fake, and I offer her nothing in return. My insides are still panicking at the realization I’ve lost the only family I had left in the world—and maybe my sanity too.
“It’s going to be all right,” Amy says, but her promise is as empty as her smile.
“Is the lie part of your protocol or just your own personal touch?” I ask dully.
Her smile slips. “Excuse me?”
“The lie,” I repeat. “You don’t know me or my life. I just lost the only living relative I have, and I am about to go live in a home with a bunch of other kids who also have nothing left to live for. How is it going to be all right?”
“Well, I . . .” She looks down, adjusting the papers in her lap, then looks back up at me. “I just think everything will work out for you.”
I snort. “If you think that, you’re more naïve than I am.”
“Elidi, you’re going through something horrible, but life never stays one way for long,” she says. “Trust me. This won’t last. Life will change. It will be okay.”
I sigh, staring down at a spot on the floor. “Whatever.”
Amy uncrosses and re-crosses her legs, leaning forward. “Elidi, I want to ask you while we’re alone . . .” Something in Amy’s tone catches my attention, and I look back at her, wary now. “Your friend. Finn. Is he—You feel safe with him, right?”
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