 
The Spider Catcher

Redemption Book 1

By A.L. Tyler
More Books by A.L. Tyler

http://addisynltyler.blogspot.com/

The Waldgrave Series

Arrival of the Traveler

Deception of the Magician

Secrets of the Guardian

Redemption

The Spider Catcher

Rabbit Bones

Serpent's Bite

Pale Hound

Lion's Shadow

Shattered Minotaur

Fox Blood (coming January 2016)

Hawthorn Witches Novellas

Demons & Dracaena

Sorcerers & Sumac

Werewolves & Wisteria (coming December 2015)

If you want to get emails about new releases, follow this link (note: this is only for news and new releases from author A.L. Tyler, and you can unsubscribe at any time): http://eepurl.com/btupaT

copyright and Dedication

*****

The Spider Catcher

Redemption Book 1

Copyright 2013 A.L. Tyler

2nd Edition

Story © A.L. Tyler 2015. All rights reserved. http://addisynltyler.blogspot.com/

Swirls brushes by Obsidian Dawn, http://www.obsidiandawn.com.

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination and used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

*****

This one is most definitely for the editors, who agreed that the original first book had too many flashbacks.

Here is the story, in order of how it happened, as far as we know...

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Epilogue

Preview

About the Author

Prologue

When Ember Gillespie was six, she already had a crick in her neck from looking up at all of the adults in her life. Unfortunately, Ember was also frequently ignored.

"Mom, can I--?"

"One at a time, Ember." Gina didn't even turn to look. She had picked up a cookbook and pretended to read it while she shot poisonous glances at Danielle Cassington, the shopkeeper, who was behind the counter at the back of the store unloading and sorting a new shipment.

Danielle knew she was receiving dirty looks, but didn't care. She only smiled. Gina hated everyone on the island, excepting her own mother, her two daughters, and Charles, the grocer. Nobody counted Charles, though. He was an outsider.

Hugging her books to her chest, Ember pursed her lips and looked back and forth between Danielle and her mother.

Gina had Thalia firmly by the hand, and Thalia was also staring at Danielle. Barely ten months Ember's senior, Thalia was the other daughter; the one that didn't read, much less demand new books. Having Ember's exact appearance and Gina's demeanor, Thalia was who Ember often worried she should have been in life.

Thalia was staring at her now, with her wide, calm eyes. Ember licked her lips and turned her attention back to her mother.

If history was any indicator, Gina wasn't planning to stop glaring at Danielle any time soon. Ember stood diplomatically in front of Gina and stared up across the many furry bulges of her faux rabbit coat at her mother's sour face. She tugged at the waist of Gina's dress until her mother looked down with green, calculating eyes.

"They're short books," Ember reasoned, holding up the books, which really weren't that short. Living on an island where there was little else to do, Ember had become adept at reading, and that made all books far too short. "I'm going to finish this one by tomorrow, so I'll need this one--Mom!"

Gina was looking at Danielle again. She glanced back at Ember before returning her gaze to shopkeeper, and Ember looked over, too. She watched as Danielle took one dog-eared book from the box and then another, looked over the binding and then put them in their respective stacks. Ember didn't know where Danielle ordered used books from. On the island, there weren't enough people reading to warrant a new book store, let alone a used one. In her mind, she secretly wanted to believe there was a warehouse somewhere that turned out used books, with workers lined up in rows to add notes in the columns and rub each one down with dust, coffee stains, and the faint smells of old people.

Ember's attention snapped back to Gina, nearly causing her to strain a muscle in her neck. She had to stay focused on the books, or tomorrow promised to be painfully boring. "But, I need two this time, because this one is short, and...Mom, look at how short it is..."

"One book, Ember," Gina repeated quietly, without looking.

"One book," Thalia echoed, looking Ember superiorly in the eye. They had the same eyes, light blue, though when Thalia acted the way she just had, Ember couldn't imagine her own eyes ever looking so simple. "That's the rule."

Frowning at her sister, Ember stamped her foot. "Will you please look at how short the books are?!"

Gina looked down at Ember, who stole one quick glance at Danielle, who was now openly grinning as she went about her routine. Gina tried to tame the snarl on her lip as she turned her burning gaze on Ember.

"One book," she said with finality, snatching one of the books from the girl and slapping it onto the shelf before grabbing her upper arm and dragging her from the store.

"Ouch!" Ember screamed. "You're hurting me!"

Gina wasn't actually hurting her, and both Ember and Gina knew it, but the girl continued to shriek like she had been set on fire. As Ember dug her heels in against the grain of the carpet in the store, and then the tile by the door, and then the wood plank walkway outside, Thalia remained unflustered, pacing along while dutifully holding Gina's other hand.

When they had cleared the town, Gina let Ember go and watched the girl pout and swing her arm angrily down to her side before hugging her one book to her chest. Crouching down before her, she rested her hands on Ember's shoulders. "I told you, one book. That's the rule. You will apologize for yelling and making a scene."

Ember stared solemnly at the book in her hands until her mother took it away. She looked up and caught the slightest glimpse of Thalia standing behind her mother, her tiny hands tucked into the woolen pockets of her blue jacket, an expression as serious as death on her face. Thalia's hair was done up in a fancy braid because she could hold still long enough; Ember's was in a sloppy ponytail, because she couldn't. She hated the feeling of the brush yanking on her hair, and Gina's sharp, claw-like nails digging at her scalp, but every day she envied Thalia's pretty hair, and the way it sat untouched atop her head.

"Why do you pay more attention to Danielle than you do to me?" Ember asked quietly. Her nose was cold, and she reached up to use her sleeve to wipe at it. She was always drippy in the cold, and her eyes were on Thalia once again. Thalia's nose never dripped.

"Because I don't like her," Gina replied simply, touching Ember's cheek to redirect her gaze. "You will apologize before you get your book back."

"I think Danielle's nice. She lets me borrow the books and orders the ones I want," Ember mumbled at her hands, her cheeks blushing pink as the cold set in. It wasn't usually so bad when they kept moving, and Gina seemed to like to use the cold as a tool to gain faster obedience. "If you didn't like me, then would you look at me more?"

When her mother didn't answer her, she looked up. Ember expected her to look angry or upset, but instead, Gina was frowning. She looked distracted again as her eyes darted back and forth across her daughter's face. Ember sighed deeply; she had never understood her family. It seemed that they were constantly interested in her during her most mundane moments, but could never spare a second when she actually wanted their attention.

Ember looked back down to her chilled, red fingers, snaking them together for warmth.

"I'm sorry I yelled and made a scene," she said without any real regret.

Still frowning, Gina pressed Ember's book back to her chest and pulled her into a hug, planting a warm kiss from her rough chapped lips onto Ember's cold brow. She carried Ember home on her hip like she was a much younger child, with Thalia still holding her other hand.

She didn't set her back down until they reached the entryway. Excited to get at her new adventure, Ember made for the stairs.

"Ember!" Gina called after her. "What's the rule about books?"

"Only one!" Ember called back.

"What's the other rule about books?"

Ember stopped, turned, and rushed into the kitchen, her shoes making clapping, scratching noises against the grime-worn wood floor. She placed the book carefully into her Nan's hands as the old woman smiled down at her. Gina walked into the kitchen, throwing on her apron.

"Oh, my!" Nan exclaimed, turning the book over in her hands before flipping it open. "This is a short one, isn't it?"

Ember waited for her mother to sigh and turn around, looking at the two of them with an exasperated expression as she shook her head.

"I told you so." Ember grinned.

"'Lia, take Ember and go play in the garden." Gina retorted.

Nan ran a hand through Ember's hair, compulsively attempting to groom out her rebellious streak, and then turned her toward the door and gave her a swat on the behind. "Go on--I'll read it over and you can have it back after dinner."

Thalia came and took Ember by the hand, and they opened the back door and balanced down the stone steps into the garden.

The other rule about used books was that adults had to read them first. After having had several mildly risqué titles approved, Ember had decided that Gina wasn't worried about the content of the books themselves, but rather the notes in the columns. It was fine to read about inappropriate things, so long as they were written by famous authors and not bookworm nobodies—if there was ink in the margins, the books weren't approved.

The garden was a large space behind the house that was fenced off by a great, hand-stacked stone wall. The wall was fully closed from the back of the house to where it wrapped around the side yard, and small animals often nested in the largest gaps between the flat stones. In the summer, Gina's garden was filled with all manner of fruit trees, flowers, vegetables, and greenery. Bright red apples and yellow lemons hung heavy on the branches in the cool summer mists, and snap peas and beans climbed up the stacked wall to escape over the other side. There was a section for growing potatoes—both the white ones for mashing and the orange ones for fries—and a vegetable garden with carrots, cabbage, broccoli, rhubarb, and squash. The tomato plants grew so tall that they had to use a small ladder to collect the fruit from the upper boughs.

However, now it was late October, and things had mostly died down to a large pile of dead foliage and old pine needles. Thalia picked up one of the jump ropes, shaking off the dead leaves with little fear of the creepy crawlers that might have been hiding there, and immediately started to trot around the yard with it. Ember pushed her hands deep into her pockets as her teeth chattered against the dropping temperature that came with a premature northern night.

Thalia's feet crunched on the leaves. "One, two, three, four, five..."

Thalia didn't like to play with others, and often neglected her sister, who might have preferred the company. Ember liked to trick herself into believing that Thalia liked being alone. It wasn't really that she liked being alone--she liked being with her mother and Nan. She just didn't like being with Ember, and oftentimes, Ember feared that Thalia thought she was a figment of her imagination. Once or twice, she had lived in real fear that Thalia would become bored with her someday, and she would dissolve into nothing like a forgotten pretend game.

But as a real flesh-and-blood child, Ember was incapable, as many times as she had tried. Sometimes, when it was time for bed, or when Ember found herself alone in a corner, she would shut her eyes tight, pretending that she really had been a figment. With the world blacked out to nothing, she would imagine that she was Thalia, the girl with the pretty hair and the perfect demeanor, and that Ember had been someone that she had only dreamed up.

But it never came true.

"...seventeen, eighteen, nineteen..."

Alone with herself, Ember stared up at the sky, and the trees, and she felt the breeze blowing through the fabric of her jacket and clothes and touching her skin. She shivered with both the cold and the sensation.

"...thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three..."

She walked to the wall at the back of the garden and started searching for birds' nests or signs of ground squirrels in the gaps and holes. She stared intently, hoping they hadn't all gone away to wherever they hibernated, though it was getting late in the year and late in the day. Dragging her hand along the wall as she went, over the sharp edges and unforgiving hardness, she turned the corner into the side yard and heard her Nan and mother talking about something. It was something upsetting and serious, by the sound of it. Ember sighed heavily, and then looked up to stare at the sky as she tried to ignore the voices. The sky was darkening, but it was still too light for stars.

When the vertigo finally made her dizzy, she looked back down at the far end of the side yard. Where the alleyway made by the stone wall ended, there was something red on the wall, and the presence of the red thing piqued her interest. It wasn't a natural red, like one would see on flowers or birds. This red was artificially bright. It was not from her mother's garden.

She walked toward the pretty thing and picked it up. It was a scrap of cheap ribbon, like the kind used to tie a child's helium balloon to their wrist.

"Hello."

Startled, Ember looked up to see a boy sitting on top of the wall. She was sure that he hadn't been there before. He was older than she was, though not as old as her mother. He wasn't quite old enough to be an adult, but almost. He had dark hair and deep, dark eyes, and long limbs which he had composed around himself like casual accomplices.

Ember smiled at his friendly confidence. The stranger smiled back.

"Hello," Ember said, intrigued with the turn of events.

She quickly turned around to be sure Thalia wasn't going to ruin her fun. She wasn't even in sight.

"Is this yours?" Ember asked, turning back and holding out the bit of ribbon. It seemed rather a melancholy treasure without its balloon, frayed at one end and clipped straight at the other.

"Yes." The stranger smiled more broadly, revealing starkly white teeth. "But I'm giving it to you. Do you like red?"

Ember stared back down at the red ribbon, and suddenly realized that she liked the color red very much, though she had never considered it before. She was also oddly pleased that the stranger would find the bit of ribbon of enough value to give to someone like it was a gift. Her mother would have called it a piece of trash.

"Yes, I like red. Red is my favorite color."

"Mine too," the stranger said with another grin that never touched his eyes. "What is your name?"

"Ember Gillespie," Ember said wistfully, rubbing her head against her shoulder to push a stray bit of hair back behind her ear.

"Ember Gillespie," the stranger repeated back to her without blinking. "May I come into the yard, Ember?"

With a pleased smile, Ember nodded. "Yes. You can come down."

He dropped from the top of the wall to kneel down on ground before her. He had black hair and a handsome face, like a prince from a storybook. He brought his hand to touch the part of the ribbon that hung from Ember's hands. "I like red, too...though I believe I like a different red than you."

"What's your name?" she asked, trying to stifle a laugh. He was a very handsome young man, but the way he talked reminded her of the riddling characters Alice had met in all her adventures.

His expression twisted into a smirk and he raised his eyebrows as he stared at her, shaking his head; this time, the smile came through his eyes instead of his mouth. Suddenly, his face contorted and he raised his arm defensively.

Ember frowned, wondering what she had done to displease him. "What's wrong?"

"Ember!"

She turned around to see her mother running toward her in long, graceful, gazelle-like strides, her bare feet crunching on the leaves. She reached Ember and scooped her up. Ember saw the kitchen knife in Gina's hand. As Gina passed her daughter off to Nan, Ember turned in time to see Gina strike the knife one quick time across the stranger's face. It made a sound like nails on a chalkboard, and the stranger reached up to grab at the dark, bleeding cut in shock.

Gina pointed the knife at his chest. "Stay away from her."

"Why?" he replied with a hiss, pulling his hand away from his face and rubbing the dark blood between his fingers in disgust. "I didn't hurt her."

Gina shook her head, once again raising the knife to gesture at his face. "You know why."

In her grandmother's arms, Ember disappeared around the corner, clutching her gift ribbon in her hand. The next day, they put her on a plane to the contiguous states, where she went to a private boarding school and received a first-rate education. Ember didn't see the stranger again for many years afterward, and when she finally did, she didn't recognize him.

She only knew he was someone important to her. He was the first person to show her that even damaged things could still be treasures.

Chapter 1

Ember held on to the ribbon long after it had lost its childish charm, using it as a bookmark. In her school dormitory room, there were paperback novels hidden in every drawer and tucked away behind her textbooks on the shelves. Amidst her uniforms and shoes and jackets in the closet, there were even more.

She kept her desk neat and clean, with a stack of college-ruled paper and a cup of pens and pencils for homework. There was a window opposite the door, closest to Ember's little bed, and in the morning the light cut a straight wedge in the middle of the desk. She liked to think that someday, she would get a plant to sit in the wedge of sun, and it would do well. Of course, Ember was eleven then, and she would be moving to the junior-high dorms in a few years—long before 'someday' was ever likely to come, and her imaginary plant would never bask in that wedge on the desk.

At such times, Ember wondered if she had a gift for growing plants. Her mother was a fantastic gardener. She had drawn a picture in crayons and watercolor in art class two years ago of her mother's garden. The assignment had been to draw a memory of home. The fruit trees and the vegetables in the garden had been the only image she could muster; that, and the bookstore. Her teacher had said that the bookstore didn't count, and that she had drawn Alaska wrong, because gardens like that didn't grow so far in the north.

When she closed her eyes and thought hard, she could still see the strawberries and the mint patch. It might have been a figment of her imagination, like the notion that her mother gardened, and in that case getting a plant might have been riskier than she wanted to believe.

"What are you looking at?" Tiffany asked, turning over in her bed and rubbing her eyes.

Tiffany was the same age as Ember, and had short, blond hair. When they had met at the start of the year, Ember had told her that she was an orphan in the care of a nun who had sent her to the school. Her last roommate had asked incessant questions about Ember's home, and her parents, and her sister, and Ember hadn't been able to answer any of them. Luckily, Tiffany believed just about everything she was told.

"Nothing." Ember shrugged. "Do you think they'll have pancakes today?"

Tiffany shrugged in turn, rolling over to hug her pillow. "Maybe. I like pancakes."

"Me too," Ember agreed.

Tiffany was simple, and easy to please, and Ember liked her. When there were pancakes, they would take great ceremony in properly buttering and drenching each in the stack with more than enough syrup. Eggs were made to be eaten on toast, and bacon was eaten last so that the taste lingered on the tongue. They agreed that the apple juice in the cafeteria was too sweet, their English teacher was so old he was likely to die at his desk one day, Jason in Social Studies was the cutest boy in their grade, and having any more than one piercing on each ear was too many.

They stayed roommates until just after the sixth grade, when Tiffany had gone searching for her history book in Ember's closet, thinking that she must have put it away by mistake, and found the generic birthday card that her mother had sent her. There, beneath a stack of old papers and on top of the box that held Ember's patent leather shoes that were only for recitals and special occasions, their friendship had ended.

As Ember stood in the doorway, with her hair braided down her back just as Tiffany had left it that morning, she stared at the card in Tiffany's hand. It was signed, not just by her mother, but by her sister and grandmother as well. Sincerely, Mom, Thalia, & Nan. Tiffany had stared in betrayal as Ember turned bright red; there was nothing to say.

No one believed that a mother could do what Gina Gillespie had done, and Ember hadn't seen her since she was a little girl. She had chosen one daughter to keep and love, and given the other away to be raised by the ever-shifting tide of teachers and mentors that came and went over the years. Ember wasn't even allowed home for the holidays, breaks, or the summer. No one believed that a mother could hate her child that much, unless there was something wrong.

That was the look that Tiffany had in her eyes then, asking Ember why she would hide such things. They accused her of being a freak, or a pathological liar, and at the very least, not a true friend.

Ember snatched the card from Tiffany's hand, running from the room to lock herself in the janitor's closet on the second floor, where she ripped it up into pieces no bigger than quarters, and stared at the bright bits of paper on the floor around her. Sinking to her knees, she pushed them back into a little pile and collected them, wishing she hadn't done it. Those signatures might have been the last she would ever see of her family.

She cried for herself, for the card, and then for Tiffany. They never spoke to each other again.

After that day, Ember decided that she didn't need friends who were close enough to go through her closet. For good measure, she properly disposed of everything her mother sent her, using the trashcans in the common areas and never the ones belonging to her personal room. It was easy, because she only sent a total of two cards each year. One came on Ember's birthday, and the other around halfway through December. They only ever said "Happy Holidays", causing Ember to worry during her early teenage years that she was supposed to be either a non-practicing Catholic or a Protestant.

She joined every club and organization she could, less out of interest than to prove to the other students that she wasn't a freak. She cooked and served for the homeless, visited with the elderly, and did science projects for the city fairs. She kept her hair and her clothes clean, and once wrote to her caretaker to ask about getting braces to straighten her teeth.

The only true part of the story she had told Tiffany years ago concerned the nun who looked after her. Sister Helen managed the trust fund that had been arranged to cover Ember's expenses, and would continue to do so until Ember turned eighteen.

Keeping her appearance and behavior strictly groomed, Ember gained the respect of the other students and her teachers. People remarked at what a wonderfully mature young woman she was becoming, and how bright her future was.

When she was fourteen, Ember decided that someday, she would go back to her mother's home to prove herself worthy. Whatever Thalia had been up to, it would pale in comparison to Ember's achievements, and then her mother would be forced to allow her to come back. They would work in the garden together, and Ember would finally have a family, and a home that she could tell people about.

When she was fifteen, Ember finally got up the courage to ask Sister Helen about the address of her mother's house. She wanted to send a letter.

The nun kindly told Ember that she would send the letters on for her, and realizing that she had no other recourse, Ember agreed.

The letters went, one after another, one every week. Week after week, Ember waited for a reply that never came. She stood at her door, looking hopefully at the floor advisor as she walked down the hall handing out letters or tucking them under doors. The woman smiled at Ember every day as she walked by with nothing to put in her small, anxious hands. Ember turned and went back into her room, frowning, and looked at herself in the mirror.

Her new roommate, an awkward, quiet girl who went by Heather, had started an insect club that she attended every afternoon. It spared Ember the embarrassment of having to wait in nervous excitement and then trudge in embarrassment in front of anyone but her own reflection.

She stared at herself, wondering if her mother would write back if she sent a picture. Somewhere, years ago in a psychology book, she had read that people were more likely to respond to faces than to flat text, regardless of the emotional pleas within. Ember had a build that was still more athletic and girlish than womanly, but she had a pretty face—perhaps, she thought, it should only be a face shot.

She wondered if she still looked like Thalia. She wondered if that fact would make her mother take her back.

Carefully pulling her hair back into a ponytail, she wondered how Thalia wore hers these days, or if Thalia had pierced ears. She made a note that she would have to ask her nun if she could pierce hers, because most girls her age did have them, and then she could wear some modest gem studs to accentuate the blue in her eyes.

Grabbing a paperback and sitting on her bed, she tried to figure out who she could ask to take her picture. Heather was the closest thing she had to a friend at school, and perhaps she could do it. Heather, at least, would take the picture without asking what it was for.

Heather had started the bug club that she attended. Heather, as of yet, was the only attendee, but she was happy enough to go sneaking through the underbrush, sticking her hands into dark holes, alone. The girl wasn't afraid of mysterious things, which made Ember unendingly grateful for her company. When they first met, she had asked Ember where she came from.

"Alaska," Ember had replied, knowing what would come next. Is that where your family lives?

But Heather had only stared at her with a disinterested expression, and said, "Oh. I'm from Vermont."

And that was the end of it. Heather wasn't a girl who needed, or even liked, to talk about things; things were just as they were, and that was good enough for her. They respected each other's space, didn't borrow clothes or books or school supplies from each other, and generally got by on small talk and niceties.

However, outside of their dorm room, Heather and Ember couldn't have been more different. Heather didn't care what people thought of her quiet eccentricities, but Ember always put on a smile and tried to be nice to people. She volunteered for a wide range of clubs, mostly because she didn't like saying 'no' to the people who asked her. She hadn't joined Heather's bug club because she knew Heather liked to be alone, even if she didn't know why. She had only named it a club to give teachers an excuse as to why she needed an hour every day to chase her creepy-crawlies in the fields and barn.

Sometime later, Heather came back, happily toting a jar filled with grass, sticks, and a large hairy spider. She set it on the nightstand that divided their beds and grinned at Ember from under long, brown hair that constantly hung in her face.

"You need bangs and a headband," Ember said to her, not for the first time. "Good haul today?"

"Wolf spider," Heather replied, with a flourish toward the glass. "Second biggest spider I've ever caught. One time in Florida I caught a huntsman spider, though, and that one was the biggest."

"Do huntsmen spiders kill wolf spiders?" Ember mused.

"What?" Heather's brow furrowed.

"Never mind." Ember shook her head, grabbing the bit of red ribbon from the nightstand and shoving it into her book. She sat up properly on the edge of the bed. "Do you think you could use your camera to take a picture of me?"

Heather looked down at the digital camera she kept clipped to her belt. Normally, it was exclusively reserved for taking pictures of bugs too delicate, dangerous, or difficult to collect and document. "Sure, I guess. What am I going to do with a picture of you?"

"It's not for you." Ember tried to give her a winning smile. "I just need one to send...home...to my family."

Heather shrugged. "Sure. Whatever."

She plopped onto her bed and pulled the spider jar over to sit on the pillow next to her head. Ember grinned inwardly as she grabbed her nightclothes and her toiletries and walked down the hall to the bathroom area. She changed, and brushed her teeth, and then wandered down to the kitchen. The students each had a water bottle with their name written on it in the refrigerator, and Ember liked to collect hers for the night in case she got thirsty.

She went back up to her bedroom, and found Heather already dressed and ready for the lights out check. She sat on the edge of her bed, slowly turning the spider jar in front of her face. Ember folded back her comforter and slipped off her shoes. When she sat down and picked up her brush, she saw that Heather had put the spider down, and was watching her.

"What?" she asked, trying not to be too forceful.

Heather raised her eyebrows and shook her head. "Nothing! Just...you said you wanted to send a picture to your family?"

Ember stared warily at the spider on the desk, tasting the bile creeping up her throat. "Yes."

"Why are you sending them a picture?"

Ember smiled; Heather was just being her usual odd self. She didn't understand that families liked having pictures. Or at least, normal families did. "I think my mother would like one, is all. She could look at it and think of me."

"Oh." She picked up the spider jar again, shaking it lightly. "Does it bother you having a spider in the room? It would bother most people, I think."

Ember shrugged. "No."

"Not at all?" Heather pressed.

Ember looked up sharply, staring first at Heather, and then at the spider. She looked Heather in the eye. "It's a spider. It's in a jar."

"What if it wasn't in the jar?"

Ember swung her legs into the bed and between the sheets, wondering where Heather's sudden curiosity had come from. It wasn't a bad thing, but it certainly wasn't her typical behavior. "I guess it would find a corner and do what it does, and eventually one of us would catch it and shoo it out a window."

When Heather didn't respond, Ember stared at her significantly. Their gazes locked for an uncommonly long time, but Ember never blinked.

"Oh," Heather said finally, and then, "Goodnight, Ember."

"Goodnight."

Ember switched off her bedside lamp as her roommate did the same. She twisted around under the covers to face the window, and heard Heather shuffle around for a moment before settling.

"Ember?"

"Hm?"

"If you told your mother you weren't happy here, she would let you go back."

Ember furrowed her brow, stuck somewhere between amazement at Heather's sudden epiphany and annoyance with the intrusion into her personal life. She shook her head, twisting around again to face her. Heather's face was a pale island in the dark bedclothes she had cocooned herself in, illuminated by the moonlight through the window.

"You don't think I'm happy here?" Ember said with a frown.

Heather slowly shook her head. "Anyone who's paying attention knows that you're miserable. But if you told her that, if you told her that you want to leave and go back to Alaska, I think she would let you."

"You don't know my mother," Ember said, deflated.

Heather stared at her for a moment, and then shrugged, Ember was forced to concede—she didn't know her mother, either. She laid on her back, staring at the ceiling, and the jagged pattern that the popcorn texture made in the slanted light. Eventually, she drifted off to a dream that felt like falling, causing her to start in surprise and jerk awake in the night. It was hours later, and Heather had fallen asleep with her spider jar clutched to her chest like a teddy bear.

They never spoke of Ember's family again. The next day, Heather took the photo, and their biology teacher arranged to have it printed on the glossy photo stock paper along with Heather's homage to webs in the barn. Ember wrote her letter, explaining in a genial tone that she wanted to come back to Alaska. As a last thought, she added the line about being unhappy, and tucked it into an envelope to give to Sister Helen.

No one ever replied.

But when Sister Helen came for an unscheduled visit in the middle of the week, Ember knew something was different. The nun had come to see her—not the school guidance counselor about her classes, or the teachers about her grades—her.

Her mother wanted to see her for a visit. She was invited back to the island for the summer vacation.

On the walk back to her dorm room, Ember was stunned and speechless. Even as clueless as Heather usually was, she noticed.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

"I'm going home," Ember replied, still hardly able to fathom the idea. She looked at Heather. "It's because of you. Because of what you said, about telling her that I was unhappy."

Heather cocked her head. Her eyes didn't even bidge from the nature magazine she was reading. "You're unhappy?"

Ember scoffed, and then smiled and laughed. "Come on—really? You told me that everyone knows..."

Heather flipped a page, and then looked up at her with her, as detached and unaware as always. "I didn't know. And I didn't say that to you. You must be confused."

Frowning, Ember waited for Heather to laugh, or smile, or give her a look. She had to be joking. But she was just sitting there, leafing through the magazine before pausing to study a picture of an enormous beatle.

"You really don't remember?" Ember asked, suddenly unsettled.

Heather looked up again, and seemed to search her mind, just to be doubly sure. She licked her finger before returning to the glossy pictures before her.

"Nope. Whoever it was, it wasn't me."

Chapter 2

Whatever apprehension Ember had felt about Heather's sudden lapse of memory dissipated as summer approached. She eventually decided that her room mate must have been sleep talking, and the excitement of getting to prove herself to her family eventually washed away all of her concerns.

Gina and Thalia stood on the rocky shore, two somber women with blonde, frizzy, tied-back hair, in hippy skirts and walking sandals. They were framed by the early summer fog, like a very small family portrait. Ember tried to swallow the nervous lump in her throat. She was wearing her best slacks and cardigan, carefully applied makeup, and had meticulously styled her hair with mousse.

The strong family resemblance was nearly unrecognizable.

She dropped her bag in the water while trying to get off the little boat that had been commissioned to get her to the island. Gina and Thalia didn't try to help her as she struggled to the shore. As Ember appraised her mother, she recognized the familiar, emotionless expression that was directed back at her. Thalia's expression was lost somewhere between surprise and fear.

"Hey," Ember said quietly, trying to smile warmly at her sister. She was her sister, after all, and Ember wanted to believe that even if they didn't know each other, they could still be friends. All of her favorite television shows told her so. "Where's Nan?"

Gina eyed her with a critical glare, her green eyes wandering from Ember's wet, impractical shoes to the artificial mess of hair on her head. She stared at her soaked bag, and her wide eyes, and the look of sheer fear on the girl's face.

With a short shake of her head, Gina turned and walked away. "She's back at the house."

Thalia turned and walked with her, and Ember took a few quick steps to catch up to them.

"It's nice to be home..." Ember said to their backs.

Neither stopped, and neither responded. Thalia snuck one quick glance over her shoulder, but refused to make eye contact.

Ember fought the new ballet flats she had bought for the trip as they slipped on the rocks underfoot, and wedged herself between her mother and her sister. "Do you think I could come home more often?" Ember prompted.

"This isn't your home, Ember," her mother explained, pulling the shawl around her shoulders a little tighter to keep it from touching her younger girl. Ember was shivering; she should have brought a coat. "This is Thalia's home. Your home is back in Pennsylvania at the dormitories, and wherever you wish after that. I'll pay for it. You have the entire world to explore and live in, and I don't want you to waste your life on this little island."

They walked a few paces in silence, and Ember wondered if this forced conversation was going to be the highlight of the next three months. Her mother's tone wasn't unfriendly, but Ember noted that she hadn't smiled at her once. She wasn't happy to see her.

"So why don't you ever visit me at my home?" Ember asked meekly. She looked down and noticed that the shirts they were wearing had the same stitched hem around the cuffs; it wasn't a regular pattern, like something that could be bought at a store. They made their own clothes.

"My home is here, too," she said, as if this point were obvious.

"But maybe you could go on vacation or—"

"I don't vacation," she said curtly. "Neither does Thalia. You've done fine without us—everyone says so—and I'm sure you'll continue to do so."

Continue to do so. Even being young and naive, Ember had grasped her mother's meaning immediately. She wasn't staying, so her plan to ask to stay was pointless. Her mother only required one daughter, and she had her, and Ember would just have to do without them, elsewhere.

All hope the hope that she had nurtured when her mother had cared about her being unhappy died like a flower after the frost. This woman didn't want her to be miserable, but she didn't want her here, either.

As Ember looked back and forth between the two women at her sides, she realized that they felt nothing for her, and as strange as it was, she felt very little for them. They were strangers, and a small twinge of disappointment struck in her heart as she mourned the family she had imagined in her mind.

The house was different than Ember remembered it, with a forgettable grey pigment slathered on the wood siding and a roof made of worn, waffled metal of some sort. Gina directed Ember her bedroom, and told her they would call her when dinner was ready. She could hear Thalia downstairs, talking and banging the pots around as she helped to fix the meal.

Ember hadn't expected them to invite her to join them, because they weren't the family she had thought they would be. Even looking back, the concise notes around her birthday never engendered much hope that people on Tulukaruk had missed her, or that they had even noticed her absence. She sighed and shook her head, wondering why she had ever wanted to come back.

She unpacked her clothes, hanging them over the wrought iron bedframe to dry, and hoping that the sea water hadn't damaged anything. There was a humming in the hall, and Ember opened the door to see her Nan, pacing back and forth, humming a lullaby as she ran her hand along the stair banister.

"Oh," The old woman whispered in a creased voice, her small eyes staring out from the wrinkled tissue paper of her brow. "And who are you?"

"I'm...Ember, Nan, you don't remember me?" Ember stuttered. No one had mentioned in those brief birthday notes that Nan was losing it. "You used to read my books?"

"Ember? Ember, Ember, Ember..." Her brow wrinkled with thought. "Ah!" Her eyes lit up as she acknowledged Ember's face. "You're the little girl from the bookstore, aren't you? Who let you in the house, I wonder?"

Ember tried not to let her disappointment show. Nan had been her only friend. She was the only one who might have been on her side, or at least less than disappointed to see her.

"You look so much like my granddaughter," she crooned, taking Ember's face in her hands and turning it right and left, comparing her to Thalia. She pursed her lips. "But my granddaughter is prettier."

Ember flinched.

Nan walked away down the stairs. "Gina, there's a strange girl in the spare bedroom!"

"It's okay, I already know!" Gina called back without further explanation. She wasn't going bother trying to make Nan understand. She wasn't planning for Ember to stay long enough to warrant an explanation.

Realizing that the old woman that had pre-read her books was gone, Ember took a moment of silence to grieve, and then resigned herself to reading alone in her room. It was going to be a long summer with these strangers who didn't want her.

That night at dinner, Thalia introduced Ember to her grandmother as a guest staying for a few months. Her mother didn't say much. They assigned her a set of towels and explained the system for washing clothes and dishes, and asked that she please confine her possessions to her room. Sending things on after the fact might be a problem, her mother said, so it was better if everything stayed where it wouldn't get lost.

After dinner, Nan had set to work making a quilt out of old, worn out blankets as Gina took a brush from a drawer and sat on the couch. Thalia had dutifully stationed herself on the floor in front of her mother to have her hair brushed out.

Staring at them all from the kitchen doorway, Ember wasn't sure if she should join them or not; none of them were talking. Thalia's glazed eyes were fixed on the fireplace across the room as her head steadily bobbed with each draw of the brush through her shiny blonde hair. Her unblinking, obedient expression was almost disturbing.

"Is this—"

Gina looked over sharply, and Ember felt herself blush. She hadn't realized how loud her voice would sound in the silence.

"I'm sorry...Is this how you spend the evenings? With everyone in the living room?"

Thalia's unfocused gaze slowly started to turn in her direction, but her mother used a gentle hand to keep her head still as she continued to brush.

"Yes," she whispered. "Family time. You can tay if you like, or go upstairs."

Rubbing her palms flat against the stiches, belt loops, and irregularities on the sides of her pants, Ember quietly excused herself to the stairs to fetch a book to read as everyone sat in silence. Once she was in her room, however, the muted silence of the house compelled her to stay there.

Ember went to bed early. In the sitting room below, she heard her mother comforting Thalia that it was only for the summer—after that, she was hopeful that Ember would find somewhere else to go. Somewhere where she would be content, and safe, and where she wouldn't trouble the community anymore.

Ember knew it wasn't a normal thing for a mother to say about her child, or even a complete stranger. She wasn't sure how she felt about any of them. Her mother, sister, and grandmother had hardly been present in her life; she was a foreigner now, and the people she remembered were only memories.

Nan was gone for good, and Ember's last moments with her had been stolen away by one untimely fit at the book store. Gina had taken away the relationship she should have had with her sister, and Thalia had grown into the awkward adult-child downstairs who stared warily at Ember, as though she were a thief come to rob them.

Ember closed her eyes and shook her head. She had been on her own for a long time. Now, she was going to be on her own forever.

She was okay with that. Blood aside, these people didn't want her. She didn't need them, and she wasn't going to bother trying to impress them anymore.

Her grandmother had gone long ago, and it was easy to hate her mother. This was all her fault. But Thalia, the sister she should have had...

Ember bit her cheek. She didn't know if it was better to make a clean break and never talk to any of them, or else risk a friendship with her sister and have to deal with her mother by association on every visit.

Sixteen years old, lying in bed that night—or evening, as it was, because she had gone to bed so early—there came a light tapping at her window. She was listening to her would-be family talking in the living room. At first, Ember thought it was raining; the light, steady tapping of drops hitting the window pane. Then a rock the size of a large walnut sent tinkling shards of glass across the wood floor like a horizontal waterfall.

Ember felt herself bounce on the bed as she leapt in surprise. The sound made by the breaking window was like an explosion in the weird silence of the house. Even as her heart went racing, no one in the living room missed a beat of conversation.

Cursing under her breath, Ember slipped on her shoes and walked to the broken window to gaze out at a group of teenage boys trying to stifle their laughter. She slid the empty window frame open and leaned out.

"Excuse me!" she bellowed, her voice echoing around the forest as she took stock of the situation. There were three of them, and they weren't even slightly embarrassed.

"The prodigal daughter returns!" the one closest to the house called at her. He was wearing a red sweater. Pacing lightly from foot to foot, he toyed with a small stone in his hand before letting it drop to the ground. "We just wanted to introduce ourselves and invite you out for the evening!"

Ember cocked her head in confusion and then closed her mouth. She searched her mind for an appropriate response, but her learned manners failed her. Three boys had just broken her window, and were now attempting to ask her out to dinner? "And your name is...?"

"Isaac!" he called, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"Do you have a problem with front doors, Isaac?" Ember yelled, but she had lost her force. Her voice trembled with doubt, but she was too polite to call them out forthright. They laughed off her implied accusation.

"Ember!" called the one with the dark hair. He was wearing a black suede jacket that had worn down to a soft grey around the elbows. "I am sorry about the window. Come out with us so we can make it up to you. Let us welcome you home. We've waited for years to meet you."

Ember stared them down. Boys like these were the gateway drug to cussing and sloppy dressing. However, as she looked down on them like a princess in a tower, she felt that to deny them her presence was somehow so rude and pretentious that it would make her a horrible person for refusing their offer. They wanted to welcome her home. At least someone did.

She pursed her lips in indecision.

As if on cue, a girl with shining blonde hair walked out from behind a tree to greet the group, filling the summer air with ringing laughter as she rested a hand on the shoulder of the last young man. His hair was a similar color to hers, though they obviously weren't related. She leaned in to kiss him politely on the cheek before he turned his easy, amiable smile on Ember.

Placated by the presence of another girl, Ember found herself with no excuse to decline joining them for the evening. Without even pausing to tell them her plan, she ran from the window to grab her coat and clamored down the stairs so loudly that the noise almost broke the spell she had come under.

"Stop!" Her mother yelled from the living room as Ember's hand hit the knob and wrenched open the front door.

Ember froze in place.

"Turn."

Her hand left the handle and she turned towards the living room. Her mother strode forward, arms crossed and confusion clouding her expression.

"Explain."

Perhaps it was the influence of the house where she had been a terror of a child, or maybe she was angry that her grandmother and sister were gone forever. Ember rolled her eyes at her mother before her grooming took over.

"I'm going out with friends," Ember said. She immediately wished she would have paused long enough to make up a lie.

"You have friends here? Who?" Gina's tone was as calm as ever, but the way she twitched when her daughter said "friends" was a definite sign to Ember that she had caught her off guard.

"Isaac," Ember said once again, closing her eyes in regret. She was used to lying, but only about her family. Maybe that was why it was so difficult.

Her mother cocked her head. "And?"

Ember looked at the floor, defeated. "Some other guys."

Gina made a show of thinking over the proposition for a moment, her gaze caught halfway between Ember and Thalia as she started to turn back to the living room. Then her airy blue eyes flicked back to Ember. "You're staying in."

Ember and Gina locked stares. Thalia got up to stand behind her mother, gawking at Ember as though she was about to commit a heinous crime. Ember could hear the beat of her own heart beneath Nan humming "Mary Had a Little Lamb" in the kitchen, keeping rhythm like an organic metronome.

But then she heard her new friends laughing outside. They were carrying on like normal teenagers with friends and happy homes. She felt the weight that had been dislodged in her brain upstairs give way and drop free of her being, crashing through the soles of her feet. The last moment that her mother controlled her life had already come and gone, and Ember couldn't remember it. It certainly wasn't this moment.

"I'm going out," she said with finality. "I'll see you later."

Thalia stepped forward and caught her hand on the door, gripping her wrist so tightly that it hurt. Ember glared at her. She was shaking her head. "Mom said no. Don't go out. Just go back upstairs..."

But Gina had stepped forward, also shaking her head, and pried Thalia's hand off of Ember's, shooting each a look of severe disappointment. Thalia was looking to her mother for guidance as she let her grasp go. Gina was looking at Ember with her jaw clenched, but didn't say a thing. She wasn't going to stop her.

Ember had a sneaking suspicion that she knew what Gina was up to, and it made her lip curl in disgust. Gina didn't want her to go out, but even more, she didn't want her to stay in. She wanted Ember out of her house.

"No," Gina repeated in a low whisper. "Stay in."

Ember closed her eyes as her sweaty palm threw the door all the way open, and she bolted. Her feet pounded the dirt pathway and her heart was no longer ticking the rhythm of a nursery rhyme, but pounding like a heavy bass. When she cleared the property line, she turned and looked back. The door was still open, but Gina and Thalia were nowhere to be seen.

The boys were laughing again. Ember could hear their voices drifting towards her as she stared at the gaping hole in the house the open door left. It was like she had ripped a piece out of it, and for one fleeting second, she wondered where her mother was. It seemed odd that no one was closing the door.

Where had they gone?

The blond boy, whose name Ember didn't know yet, clapped a hand around her shoulder, and she could feel his cold, stony grip through her jacket. "Well done, Ember! I see you have a problem with front doors as well..."

Ember finally tore her gaze from the house and turned to look at the people standing in a circle around her. Isaac was taller than she had expected. He had deep brown hair and a gangly, casual composure, made even more casual by the worn and scraggly red sweater with bits of yarn pulled out at odd angles. His face was angular in a way that made his eyes peak like he was nervous about everything, and the way he pushed his hands down into his pockets made his shoulders hunch up and he looked even taller.

He had a habit of staring at the ground, but he would look up anxiously every few words, as if he wanted to be sure Ember was listening to him.

He introduced the other two boys as his brothers. Asher was the shorter, sturdy, blond one with perfect teeth, and Acton was almost as tall as Isaac, with dark, almost black hair and deep set eyes. He wasn't gangly like Isaac, but still thinner than average; he was wearing his black suede jacket, but Ember could tell he was more muscular than Isaac. He looked decidedly younger than the other two, but there was something in the way he offered his hand, the enigmatic, tight smile curling on his lips, and the way he was wearing newer, neater clothes, that made her think he was the oldest.

"Ember," he said, taking her hand and lightly kissing it, his eyes always on her face. "Our lady of the shattered window."

"Um, yeah..." she stuttered, trying to think of something equally clever to say back at him. The feel of his lips against her hand was new, and both frightening and exciting. It made her feel adult beyond her years. "Acton. It's...it's nice to meet you too."

Acton smiled politely before turning back to the group. He released his grasp, but didn't remove his hand, so that Ember's still rested lightly atop it. It was as though he was presenting her as a debutante.

He used his free hand to gesture. "And this is Kaylee, Asher's girlfriend—"

"Vindictive harpy," Isaac muttered at the ground. He glanced up, first at Kaylee and then at Acton, and then used one hand to cover his mouth as he went back to studying the forest floor.

Kaylee was wearing black leggings and a pink puffy jacket, and she was built like a cheerleader: short, muscular, and perky. She smiled a lot. Standing next to her, Asher's own muscular build seemed much more graceful; he could have been a dancer.

"Thanks Isaac," Kaylee smiled sweetly. "You know I love you too, sweety."

What captured Ember's attention most was their eyes. Asher's were a light blue, and Isaac and Acton's were hazel, but they all had copper flecks in them. Once she had noticed it, it was hard not to stare. They were long striations, reaching all the way from the center to the rim of the iris—tiny ruddy brown veins of copper and what could have been little green flecks of verdigris. She had never seen eyes like them before, and the contrast the red-brown made against Asher's light blue was stunning.

Acton's patient smile made her realize she had been quietly staring at each of their faces for a conversational turn too long.

"I'm sorry..." she said, laughing nervously and shaking her head.

"It's okay, they're used to it." Kaylee batted her eyes. "The Knox boys have quite a reputation around here. Be careful or you'll become part of it."

Asher and Isaac broke into laughter as Kaylee raised a playful eyebrow, and Acton joined in. Not wanting to single herself out, and happy that her moment of embarrassment had passed, Ember gave a smile and a laugh as well. She had no idea what she was laughing at.

They started to walk into town. Asher and Kaylee fell back as Isaac chattered on about cars or farm equipment—Ember wasn't quite sure which. He was using words like torque, belt slippage, alignment...things that Ember wasn't entirely familiar with, but she didn't care. She was lost in the thrill of having friends to be out on the town with, and it kept her from thinking. Acton stayed constantly on her other side, not talking, with a little reassuring smile in her direction every time she looked over at him. He didn't need to talk. Ember felt like she had known him forever, or at least almost, even though she knew it was silly.

Every time she looked over, he would give her that little smile and nod just slightly. He kept his hands tucked into his pockets and matched his pace to hers, and soon Ember found herself looking to him, not just for his smiles and nods, but because he seemed to have some vague idea what Isaac was talking about, and Ember matched her expression and reactions to his. Acton didn't seem to mind, even though he must have realized what she was doing.

They stopped in front of the one little pub that existed on the island—The Garden. Ember hesitated, glancing skeptically at the warm light flowing out of the windows onto the misty streets, the noises of happiness and frivolity flooding her ears.

"I'm not old enough to..." She didn't want to finish the sentence and ruin the evening. Things had been going so well before.

The warm light and the welcoming noises suddenly made her sad as she turned to look at Isaac, Asher, and Acton again. She must have misjudged them. They could have been late in their teens, just a few years older than she was, but they might also have been in their early twenties. She analyzed Acton with consternation, desperately trying to figure out if he was her peer or not. It was hard to tell sometimes with the working classes. Men started working on the fishing boats young and stayed fit as a matter of survival. They didn't act like the boys back in Pennsylvania, or what little Ember knew about boys and how they acted. They looked young, but they had confidence, and Ember was fairly sure that most of the teenage boys she had encountered had been more arrogant than confident.

What was worse...they were all watching her expectantly. Kaylee gave her an impatient nod, as though they were waiting for her to walk into the bar so that they could follow.

"I..." Ember started, looking around at them desperately. She wondered if she had it in her to walk back to her mother's house, in the dark, alone. She hardly knew the island, let alone the way back. "Um..."

Acton suddenly stepped in front of her as she started to turn beet red. "Go on ahead and save a table." When no one moved, his tone became more commanding. "We'll join you in a minute."

Kaylee opened her mouth to say something, but Asher grabbed her by the shoulders and quickly steered her through the door. Spinning lightly on his heel, Isaac gave Ember a glance and a fleeting smile before following.

Standing alone on the street, Acton turned to face Ember. With a strange mix of anxiety and gratitude flooding her system, she smiled in relief. "Thanks."

"No problem," he said lightly. He watched her patiently.

Ember shrugged as she started to explain. "I don't drink. I'm sorry, I'm not really popular or good at talking to people or making friends—"

Acton broke out in a smile, and then laughed. "We're not here to drink unless you want to. My mother owns the bar."

Ember blinked, looking back the bar door. "She does?"

Acton nodded. "We visit her at work some nights. She's always wanted to meet you."

"Me?" Ember asked. No one had ever wanted to meet her. People simply knew her or didn't, and this woman most certainly didn't.

Acton crossed his arms, leaning in toward her. "Because of your mom. She's...different."

Ember looked at the ground; she hated being the center of attention. Her voice quavered. "She wants to know what's wrong with me, you mean. Because I got sent away, and Thalia didn't."

Despite Ember's quickly deteriorating mood, Acton's tone stayed light. "I think most of us here would like to know what's wrong with your mother and sister. They want to congratulate you for getting out."

Ember looked back up at him.

"You're the first one to ever fight Gina and win. Everyone wants a look at the great Ember Gillespie," he said her name like she was more legend than reality.

Ember only pursed her lips and nodded her head. They thought she was a freak, and they had brought her to town to put her on display. Acton had to duck down a little to see the frown on her face as she stared at the familiar sight of her shoes.

"It's not like that," he said with another laugh. "You're a hero here. You didn't get sucked into her delusions like Thalia."

In her mind, her mother had won the day she had sent Ember away. She had never considered that it could have been her victory over Gina.

"I'll take you home if you like..." Acton said with a displeased frown. "Or we can go in the bar, say hello to my mother, and have some fun. Seeing as you've just broken free from the ivory tower, I would think you would want to do some living while you have the chance."

He stepped back away from her, and towards the bar door, laying one hand on the large, brass handle.

For a moment, Ember looked out across the abandoned street of Main, on the tiny, lost island of Tulukaruk. It was easily the most exciting place she had ever been, and even as far as the night had progressed, the most adventurous thing she had ever done. It had taken a lot to push her as far as she had come, and she knew that if she turned back now, she might never have the opportunity again.

She turned back to look at Acton. He knew about her family, and still wanted to be her friend, because he understood.

"Well?" He asked. "It really would be my honor, Ember Gillespie."

Ember walked towards him and nodded, hardly able to keep the excited smile from her face. Acton opened the door for her.

She stepped into the bar, and Acton followed close behind her. The music was loud, the air smelled like beer and moldy peanuts, the flashing lights felt dirty, the shadows seemed dangerous, and Ember suddenly felt very small and out of her element. Through it all, Ember could still see the heads turn.

"They're looking at me," Ember said quietly, her stomach knotting up.

"You scare too easily," Acton breathed into her ear from behind. She could hear the amused smile in his words. "They're looking at me. Come on—I'll introduce you to my mother. She'll like you."

"You?" Ember asked, confused.

Acton walked up next to her and winked. "The Knox reputation."

He started into the room, and she tried to stay close behind him. Asher, Isaac, and Kaylee were so absorbed in conversation that Ember was sure they had already forgotten her. The crowds pushed in, and she felt Acton put an arm around her to keep her on track as they made their way through the clouds of body odor, thumping music, and kaleidoscope lights. She tensed up at his touch as he pushed her towards the bar. He smelled like suede, burning wood, and mint.

As the space became tighter, he pushed her in front of him so that they were single file. He moved his hand from her shoulder to rest on her back, and Ember's heart started to race. She had never had a boyfriend, and Acton was much too close. The feel of his hand against the soft curve between her ribs and hips was new and strange.

"Sorry—so sorry," he muttered close to her ear again, letting go as soon as there was room.

He settled her into a corner of the bar and let her have the red pleather stool closest to the wall. Acton gave her another genuine smile, and her anxiety started to fade away. She took a deep breath and looked around, much more confident against the wall than in the middle of the room.

Adventure, she said to herself, this is an adventure.

Acton leaned out across the bar, gesturing down the way. Ember followed his gaze, and it felt like the room, and everything around her, slowed down.

The woman tending the bar was the most provocative person that Ember had ever seen. She had bright red lips the same color as the corset that bared her shoulders. A black eyelet lace skirt fringed her delicate ankles, and black ribbons from the ballet slippers she wore trellised up her legs.

As she walked towards them, Ember felt herself smile, but she didn't know why. The woman was stunning, and scandalous, and Ember already knew she was going to trip over her words. If she could get this woman to take her under her wing, she might have a chance at being liked on the island. Women like this one couldn't be ignored for all the right reasons.

The shiny bun of coiled braids on top of her head quivered like medusa's snakes as she smiled. She leaned over the bar to hug Ember. Balancing on her lower abdomen, the beautiful woman's feet left the peanut shell-littered floorboards as they embraced. "And you must be Ember...we wondered if we'd ever see you again!"

She smelled like wine, baby powder, and cinnamon. Ember's head was swimming, and it was only then that she remembered Acton had brought her here at this woman's request.

"You're...the mother?" Ember said, dumbfounded. She blushed. "You don't look...old enough."

The woman only smiled and winked, lowering her voice to a cheery growl. "Plastic surgery is an amazing thing."

Acton cleared his throat. "Zinny, Ember. Ember, my mother, Zinnia Knox. The mother of the Knox reputation."

"Oh, now, you hush!" Zinny touched her cheek, feigning embarrassment, but winking at Ember at the last second.

Ember looked back at Acton, astonished and feeling like the heat in the room had just gone up by several degrees. Acton shrugged and smirked, and Ember looked back at the reprehensibly young and sexy Zinnia, called Zinny and not 'mom' by her son. A bottle had appeared in one of Zinny's hands, and two glasses in the other.

"Schnapps, Acton?" She frowned when she saw the expression on Ember's face. "Or perhaps something less alcoholic...?"

She disappeared to the other end of the bar, and Ember looked over at Acton to see him smiling as he shook his head. "What?"

He shook his head. "You look like a doe in the headlights."

"Headlights. Ha. Ha, ha," she responded, taking one last look at Zinny in her corset, and he laughed again.

"How old are you?" she blurted. Ember flinched as she realized that the sudden voicing of her uncensored thoughts was happening a lot that day. She made a concerted effort to look at Acton as though it were a perfectly normal continuance of conversation, trying not to let her smile appear too sheepish. "I mean, because, your mom—Zinnia—Zinny, I mean, she just looks..."

"I get that a lot." Acton stood and reached around to the other side of the bar, fishing beneath the counter until he brought up a bag of salted peanuts, and set them in front of Ember.

Zinny set a tray of drinks down in front of them, the glasses clanking against the metal tray as she set them down—two waters and two glasses of schnapps. Acton picked up a schnapps as Zinny winked and slinked back away down the bar, her bare shoulder blades dancing.

"Old enough to drink?" Ember asked, somewhat deflated.

"I think so." Acton smiled as he downed the drink. "That's all that counts."

Ember was horrified. Seeing her face, Acton frowned and quickly set the glass down as he cleared his throat again. His tone was understanding. "So...your mom?"

She had almost forgotten. As her evening deflated a little further, she reached out and grabbed a glass of water to occupy her mouth for a few extra moments. Acton waited patiently, his eyes seeming to beat with anticipation as he cornered her into her seat with his knees, blocking the bulk of the rest of the bar from her view, and she was once again grateful. Trying to ignore the room full of people, she focused on Acton's face.

"Yeah..." she started. "My mom."

"We can talk about something else if you like," he said with a shrug.

"Yeah..." she repeated, desperately searching for something else to discuss, and realizing that her entire life could be boiled down to her academic record, a handful of volunteer events, and her broken family. She wasn't even sure she knew how to talk about why she had been sent away, which was undoubtedly the most interesting thing about her. She didn't even understand why her mother wanted her to leave, beyond the fact that she wasn't allowed to consider this island her home. Sitting in The Garden with Acton, her academic devotion suddenly felt cheap and pretentious. The ivory tower—that was what he had called it.

Ember sighed. Acton was still patiently waiting for her to say something. He had taken her out on a pity date because he knew her mother...and how she was. That thought alone made Ember want to crawl under a rock and die. He was trying to do her a favor by getting her out of the house, taking her to the hot spot in town, introducing her to his mother, and offering up alcohol. He had mistakenly assumed that she would jump at the opportunity. He had assumed that she was someone interesting.

Across the room, Asher, Kaylee, and Isaac were all talking and laughing like the life-long friends Ember was sure they were. They were completely at ease in this malted environment, and it only made Ember feel more awkward.

Asher looked over, his arm still casually draped around Kaylee's shoulders like he was an accessory to her outfit, and nodded at her. It was in that brief acknowledgement that Ember realized that even though she had never been an interesting person, the moment had arrived where she had the power to change the fact.

Her entire life, she had tried to fit in, because she thought being normal would make her family take her back. But here, in the only bar on Tulukaruk, she was the village oddity, and it felt good to be noticed. She was never going to win over her mother, but she had a chance to win with everyone else. And her entire life, she had been missing out on that opportunity.

Ember knew that if she got drunk that night, it would mean a lecture the next morning. Or would it?

Staring into Acton's hazel eyes, the red-brown color pulsing behind them as the bar lights reflected off them, she realized that a lecture wasn't such a bad thing. If her mother was going to make her leave, Ember intended to make an unforgettable reputation for people to remember her by. The Knox boys' reputation.

As Acton watched, his eyes sparkling with amusement, Ember raised up the schnapps and tried to swallow it in one gulp the way he had. She choked, and most of it went dribbling down her chin and front.

She sputtered and took another gulp of water to kill the burn in her throat. Ember wondered what she had been thinking seconds earlier while attempting the stunt. She had never drunk alcohol before.

Acton was in a fit of laughter as he grabbed a wad of paper napkins from behind the counter and started wiping the booze from Ember's face and shirt. His laughter had once again relieved her embarrassment, and she started to laugh with him. As they both started to settle down, Ember was charmed by the way that he seemed so taken with her. She was beginning to like the feeling of excited disquiet that came every time he reached out to touch her.

"What was that?" he asked with one final laugh.

Ember raised her eyebrows. "When we walk out of here, they're going to be looking at me."

Acton gestured for Zinny as Ember tried to sop up the rest of the mess she had made.

"Maybe another water for—"

"Schnapps," Ember interceded flatly.

Zinny raised an eyebrow at him, but Acton only smiled and shrugged. "Her choice. I swear I had nothing to do with it."

Zinny left the bottle, and Acton refilled her glass.

She continued to drink another few ounces of schnapps, and then somehow they ended up at Isaac and Asher's table. Kaylee was playing with Ember's hair while the boys traded stories on all the stupid and reckless things they had done for entertainment on the island, and Ember couldn't stop laughing. She was so giddy that she was hardly thinking. She convinced Zinny to let her do a few shots before the bar mistress convinced her to stop, saying she "didn't want to bring down Gina's wrath."

Ember was so happy that she hardly noticed it was after midnight, and Asher made a joke about needing to get her home before she turned into a pumpkin. Ember laughed so hard that she vomited, though later she couldn't recall where. It was probably everywhere. Zinny very graciously never brought it up after that night.

She didn't remember leaving the bar that night. Later, she thought that Acton might have loaned her his jacket to keep warm. There might have been a motorcycle ride involved, though she didn't know how Acton managed to keep her balanced the whole ride. All she remembered was the bitter wind scratching past her face as she tried to bury herself in the supple, warm, musky suede of Acton's jacket.

She didn't remember anything clearly until lunch the next day. Thalia glared at her fiercely across the table, cutting through the hazy and painful stupor, clearly angered that Ember had defaced her public image, and her mother begged—literally begged—her not to go out again. Then there was screaming, and threats. Then came the explanations to Nan, the lectures on how Ember "hadn't been raised to act like this," and Ember's angry rant that she hadn't been raised to be anything. Not by her mother, anyways.

As Ember had climbed the stairs to go back to bed, her clammy hands sticking to the bannister and her head simultaneously throbbing with its own weight and threatening to float away, she didn't have the energy to wonder if it had been a mistake. As she opened her door, swaying dangerously along, she didn't think about the science behind her hangover. As she collapsed onto her bed, she didn't wonder at the fact that she had managed to go from being a little girl to a teenager in a single night.

The only thought in her head was Acton Knox. Everyone had been watching as she left the bar the night before, but he was the only one that counted. She wondered what he was doing now, and reached for her cell phone...then remembered that she didn't have any friends.

Except that now, she did.

You have a cell? Let me see...

Nearly breathless, Ember remembered the sparkling excitement in Asher's eyes as he had taken the phone from her hand to program in their numbers. The glow on the screen had been magical in the dark, misty night; the moon had been out and full, and with Acton's arm tight around her shoulders...

The moon? In a bar?

Ember closed her eyes, squeezing them shut until stars popped in front of them, trying to press out the story of the evening prior. There was the bar, and the drinks, and then...Kaylee had braided her hair. Yes, because she hadn't used any hair ties, and it had been a mess in the morning. Knots all over.

But at least the braids had kept it out of her hair when she had thrown up.

"Better get her home before she turns into a pumpkin."

Ember had laughed when he said it. Asher always said the funny things. Isaac was a poet. Acton didn't laugh. It took her hours to realize that when he smiled, it never touched it eyes. His lips had smiled, but his eyes hadn't.

"I've got time, and so does she. I want to take her for a tour."

The tour of the island—that's right, they had left the bar. People had clapped for her, and whistled, and she had made a grand bow at the door as they exited.

Ember cringed, pressing her face into the pillow. She had bowed to the townsfolk.

After the bar, everything was bathed in icy moonlight and freezing mist. Laughter boomed through the forest. There was a fire, something old and rusted, and the feel of Acton's suede jacket against her cheek.

The feel of the grass in her hair.

Ember raised her hands to her hair. Her eyes shot open. They had been lying down in the grass.

She rolled over onto her stomach, pressing her face into the pillow. It was there, somewhere in her mind, buried deep.

"Where are we?"

"Are you one of those shallow girls? The ones who never think about life?"

Ember wasn't one of those girls. She would have said so.

"Do you love your mother? Does she love you?"

She remembered staring up at the stars, trying hard to think of something clever to say, but all of her wits seemed to have evaporated. The air around them was so cold, but the mist was hot. Not mist—steam, from the ground, was rising in wisps all around them. The mist was making her eyes water, and then she had started to cry.

"I wish she was dead..."

Fortunately, Acton was happy when he was drunk. He had started laughing, and then she had started laughing.

"You're not afraid of anything."

"No."

"And you really wish she was dead."

"Sometimes. Most times. It would be easier than explaining, or wondering..."

And Acton had looked her in the eye. The two of them, lying on their stomachs facing each other in the tall grass. The steam was swirling around them, and the night sky was above them, dawn making a pink fringe on the horizon.

"Okay."

That's all he had said about it. It took her breath away how simple his acceptance was.

"Okay."

Chapter 3

At some point, someone in the house had tapped a large chunk of cardboard over Ember's broken window pane and swept up the shards. Over the next three days, she created a nest for herself in her bedroom that she only left to eat and shower. She read the books she had brought with her, and for the first time, all of the plot lines were too simple for her to enjoy. The heroes wanted all of the wrong things, and the villains didn't seem so villainous.

She paced the room, wanting some noise, or at least a different book. Her mother's house had no radios, and no television. The electricity in the house was limited to the kitchen, the furnace, and the water heater. There was one light on a switch in the lower hall, and one the second story near the top of the stairs. Thalia had grudgingly fetched a lamp from the attic for Ember to read by, but she had been forced to go to the grocer's herself to get a bulb for it.

She had walked into the living room the evening before, coming down for dinner, to find her mother patching clothes on the living room couch in the dwindling light. When she had flicked on the downstairs light, her mother had squinted up at her in the sudden brightness.

"Has it always been this dark here?" Ember laughed nervously. "I don't remember it being so dark inside the house back when I was...was here."

Gina's eyes had hardened, drilling in to Ember until she finally directed her attention back to the pair of Thalia's pants that she was hemming.

"We kept more lights in the house when you were little because you complained about it," she said with another steely glare. "Kept the heat turned up, too. You were a sensitive child, and expensive to keep. The money I save on the things I had to do to keep you here pays for your tuition now."

Ember tried to ignore her tone. She walked around the back of the couch to sit next to her mother. "I was a sensitive child?"

Gina stood to reseat herself a little further away. She set her sewing aside, and folded her hands in her lap, giving Ember the same appraising look that she had on the dock. "Ember, honey, you really want me to like you, don't you?"

Ember smiled, looking down to smooth her blouse as a smile crept onto her face. She opened her mouth to speak, but Gina beat her to it.

"It will never happen."

Ember felt her frown stretch all the way from her mouth to her wrinkled forehead. "What?"

Gina leaned back on the couch. "I moved to Alaska to get away from people. Needy people, like you, who can't take care of themselves."

"But Thalia—"

"—looks after herself," Gina finished. "She's been a fantastic companion for me. She helps me in the garden and doesn't mind sweeping or cleaning windows."

Ember's jaw had dropped to the floor, and she felt herself choking on her own words as Gina stared in annoyed boredom, until she finally forced a sentence out. "I could do those things."

"Oh, honey..." Gina leaned forward to give her a pat on the cheek that was just a little too hard. "You could, but you would only do it to make me like you, and that's pathetic. I was hoping a swift kick into the real world would do something for you, but it's only made it worse. I brought you back to see if maybe, just maybe...but you're just the same needy little girl you've always been. When you couldn't get your approval from me, you went out and got it from the first boy who looked at you." She stood, grabbing the pants from the couch arm. "I don't hold it against you, of course, but you have to understand that I can't respect you, and that's why I'll never love you. It's a kindness to send you away. You'll go and find someone out there who will love you, I'm sure, with all the other needy people."

Ember felt tears of embarrassment stinging just under the surface. "I didn't—I just—the window—"

"The window, yes," Gina said with a sudden scowl. Her eyes searched the room, as if she were looking for something, before she finally crossed her arms. "Someone has to pay for it, and I don't intend to go chasing your new overnight friends. I'll remove it from your trust fund."

She walked away toward the kitchen. When Ember turned and stood and started to follow her, Gina only raised a single finger and shook her head. Her eyes said everything. The conversation was done, and so was the relationship.

Feeling thunderstruck, Ember managed to get back to her bedroom. She pulled on her shoes and a coat, and shoved a wad of money into her pocket, holding it to the light coming in through the window to count the bills. She turned to go, but then stopped.

The light coming through the window.

She turned back, and goose bumps raised on her skin, because the window was still boarded up. No light was coming through it. She went back over and dragged her hand over the cardboard box, trying to back-pedal the last minute in her mind.

Deciding that drinking really did kill brain cells, and she needed to sleep more, she brushed it off.

When she came back out, Thalia had opened her bedroom door, and was standing in the frame.

"Going somewhere?"

"Out."

"Apparently," she stood in front of Ember. Her eyes, the same as Ember's, wandered over her mismatched accessories. "Where?"

"Bookstore."

Thalia nodded, stepping aside. "Get home before dark. The house goes in to lockdown, and Mom isn't opening the door for Acton Knox to dump your defiled body on the couch again."

"He didn't defile me!" Ember huffed, clattering down the stairs.

At the front door, she paused when she heard a quiet noise in the kitchen, and was shocked when she turned to see her mother, bent low over the sink, holding a damp towel to her face. She was crying.

Nan was standing behind her, slowly rubbing her back. When the older woman noticed Ember staring, it only took her a few long strides to arrive at the front door, blocking her view.

"This is because of you!" she snapped, and Ember felt her spine jerk to attention as her grandmother waved a threatening finger at her. There was a vein pulsing in Nan's neck, and her left eye twitched. "Get out of this house! Get out, and don't come back!"

Ember bolted out the door, stopped fifteen feet from the house, and started to heave. She wanted to believe it was still the effects of the alcohol she had consumed, but that had been several nights before. Her family was poisonous.

When she heard the front door slam open, and saw her grandmother standing there with a confused look on her face, she bolted before she could catch another verbal assault from the woman that had once been her best friend.

Halfway between her mother's house and Main, she found a less wet fallen tree to sit on, and wondered if she was allowed to go home again.

Not that it was her home. It never had been, and it certainly wasn't her home now.

Looking around, even the forest was alien. The fog that made the forests around Tulukaruk seem magical was absent this evening.The bark on the trees was cold and wet, and the gritty forest floor clung to her shoes and pants cuffs, caking on in a way that Ember was sure would make them dirty forever. It wasn't just the mud. It was pine needles and twigs and small chips of bark and gravel. Too much to wash out in the sink or the washing machine, because the particulate would never drain. This kind of dirt had to be scrapped off by hand.

The coat she had grabbed before leaving wasn't nearly thick enough. The damp permeated everything.

She thought about going back to school in Pennsylvania, and bedding down next to Heather with her spider fetish, and supposed that was what she had to look forward to. She would go back to school, finish out high school, and be accepted into any college she wanted—her grades were perfect, and she had a good memory for academics. She could quote sections of text books that she had only read once. While other students were picking majors they thought were easy, Ember would become whatever she wanted. A surgeon, or a software developer, or a preschool teacher—it didn't matter. It was all easy.

And whatever she chose to do, she would have to do it alone. She had spent her childhood on Tulukaruk, too sheltered to meet anyone. She had neglected to make any school friends, fantasizing about the family that had abandoned her. Now that she knew they didn't want her, the weight of her solitude was collapsing in on her.

She had no one, and that was how her life was going to go on.

Wiping a chilled hand across her cheek, she realized that her tears had finally broken through in silence, and cold snot was beginning to freeze under her nose. She tried to sit a little straighter, and cleaned herself up as best she could. No one else was going to take care of her, or look after her anymore. Now was the time for bravery.

"Charming."

Ember quickly removed her sleeve from under her nose. Acton was making his way through the trees, wearing a knee-length black wool pea coat and carrying something in his hands. He stopped before her, staring at her sternly.

His shoes were practically new, and the pants legs visible beneath his coat were dark corduroy.

"Acton," Ember said thickly.

His eyes wandered from her dirty shoes to her red face and messy hair. Ember was suddenly very away that she hadn't done anything with it beyond brushing it out, and the humidity made it frizzy. Acton's eyes fixed on her face, and Ember compulsively wiped her cheeks.

"Ember," he said flatly.

She picked at the lining of her pants, and then pulled the sleeves of her jacket down to cover her wrists and part of her palms. She tried to keep her teeth from chattering, but the cold was seeping under. "You look nice."

Acton looked down at his coat. "My mother bought this for me, but I haven't had occasion to wear it."

"What's the occasion?"

Acton slowly held out the bundle of cloth that he was holding. As Ember accepted it from him, he withdrew a folded umbrella from his coat pocket. "Trying to impress the new girl."

Ember stared at him. He wasn't smiling. He wasn't joking. But he was clearly disappointed, in the most stern way possible, that the sentiment wasn't returned.

"I—um—" Ember looked down at the thing he had given her. It was a red wool jacket with large, pearl-like buttons. With her mouth still hanging open, she looked back up at Acton, and said the first thing that popped into her mind. "I'm in trouble. I think they just kicked me out."

"You're a mess," Acton replied. He slowly and deliberate opened the umbrella. "You should clean up before we go out again. They jacket belonged to my mother, but I want you to have it."

"You stole it from her?"

"I asked her blessing." He watched as she stood and belted the jacket around her waist. "She never wears it, and you don't have enough clothes appropriate to the weather here."

Ember smiled, wiping at her face again. "I love red."

"You told me while you were drunk," Acton replied. He gestured for Ember to join him under the umbrella as the rain started to trickle down. "Don't worry about your mother. She'll take you back."

"Maybe," she said, feeling her voice quaver. She looked at him, wanting to explain what had happened, but she knew it would be rude to tell Acton that he was the root of it.

Acton waited for her to speak, but when she didn't, he only nodded and started to walk. Ember followed his lead to stay beneath the umbrella as the downpour thickened around them.

"Where are we going?" She asked over the sound of the rain.

Acton stared straight ahead. "To the bookstore."

"The bookstore?" Ember started. "How did you know that I was going to the bookstore?"

"I didn't," Acton replied. "You told me, before, that you liked books. I thought it might improve your mood. You talk a lot when you're drunk."

"Oh..." Ember felt the blush creeping up her neck. As much as she hated it, at least the blushing made her warm again. "I'm sorry. I really shouldn't have—"

"Ember." Acton stopped abruptly. "Getting drunk is what we do here. There's nothing else to do. Are you saying that you don't want to go out with me again?"

"No!" Ember said compulsively. "I mean, yes, I want to, I would love to, but I don't think—"

"Excellent." Acton said with a smile. "The coat looks good on you. You don't have to drink if you don't want to. You're not one of those religious nuts, are you?"

Ember shook her head, laughing. Acton held his out towards town, another calm smile gracing his lips.

"After you."

Ember led the rest of the way to town. When they reached the bookstore, Acton held the door for her. He shook off the umbrella, closed it up, and then followed her in. As Ember explored the shelves, trailing her fingers over the spines of her childhood as she smiled and wanted to cry for all the times she had dreamed of this place, she almost missed Danielle Cassington.

As timeless as the books she kept, she was stationed behind the same counter that she had been years before. When Ember looked up and saw the chilled expression on her face, she frowned. Mrs. Cassington had let her borrow the books, but Ember didn't think that she would remember her anymore.

"Ember," Mrs. Cassington said quickly. Ember immediately smiled in relief. Mrs. Cassington's sharp grey eyes shifted to Acton as he walked up to stand next to Ember. "Mr. Knox."

Ember had to stifle a laugh as she looked over. Acton only gave the shopkeeper a slight nod and a smile that neared sarcasm.

"Mr. Knox?" Ember said finally. "Seriously?"

Mrs. Cassington's already cold expression soured further as Ember looked back to her in confusion. "Your family may own this island, Miss Gillespie, but the Knoxes own everyone and everything on it."

Chapter 4

Ember frowned. "What?"

With a small smile, Acton took her by the arm, and nodded at Mrs. Cassington. "If you'll excuse us, Dani."

Danielle Cassington wadded up the towel she had been using to dust the shelves, and tossed it onto the countertop, muttering to herself as she slipped into the back room. "Fine with me. I don't want my name mentioned, I don't want any part..."

"Dani?" Ember said in a hushed laugh as Acton took her by the arm and led her down an aisle. "My family owns the island? Like owns it owns it?"

"Your mother owns the island," Acton said as he lightly pushed her toward a chair. "And you either dress very poorly for an heiress, or she never intends for you to have any of it."

Ember felt her jaw hanging open as she contemplated what he had said, but she didn't have a response.

"She never told you," Acton said impatiently.

"No," Ember finally mustered. "She didn't."

Acton lowered himself to her eye level, smiling lightly. "That makes you angry."

Ember tried to meet his gaze, but she was suddenly having trouble keeping her lips from trembling. Her mother said that she had moved to the middle of nowhere to get away from people, but she had obviously lied. If it was her island, then she was letting everyone else, all the people she claimed to hate, live here with her. Even as much as she hated all of them, she couldn't stand Ember.

Suddenly, it all made sense. Ember had always wondered where the money for her schooling and board came from, and it must have been from Tulukaruk. There would be taxes, or rent, or something. She had tried when she was younger to make the money run out on new clothes and books and fieldtrips, but the nun never said "no." There was always more money, and Gina had used every cent necessary to keep Ember away.

Sitting stark still and unable to speak, Ember felt the shaking in her arms first. Then her stomach went to jelly, and she felt like she was going to throw up. Acton stepped away from her with a slightly disgusted look on his face.

"What is it now?" he asked.

The bookstore was spinning. Ember had never fainted before, but she was suddenly very glad that she was sitting down.

"She doesn't want me," she whispered as the lights flashed too bright and then burst into darkness. "She just...doesn't want me."

When Ember came to, all she could see was boxes and rafters. She furrowed her brow as she started to sit up. A hand landed on her chest.

Her eyes wandered up to find Acton's face. He was sitting next to her, holding a paperback open in his other hand. "Where am I?"

"My mother's bar," Acton said, flipping another page. "Would you like a drink?"

Ember allowed her body to collapse back onto the floor. She raised her hand to her forehead, and then sat bolt upright. Her head snapped to look at Acton so quickly that she pulled a muscle. "What time is it?"

"After dark," he said lightly. "I don't think you care much, beyond that."

Ember cringed; the doors were locked. If she wanted to go home, she was going to have to beg, and even then it was doubtful that anyone would let her in after the evening's exchanges.

"They'll let you in," Acton said, his eyes never moving from the page. "Gina may hate you, but she's not a monster. She would give a bed to any poor soul who came knocking."

Shaking her head, Ember pulled her legs under her body to sit. "That's just it, isn't it? I'm not their family. I'm just...just..."

"A stranger," Acton finished, turning another page.

Ember nodded at him. He still hadn't looked at her, and she wondered if he was only there because it was the right thing to do. Abandoning a girl who had passed out wasn't something one could do and still feel right with oneself.

She stared at the floor, listening to the steady sliding of each page against the next.

"I should go," she said finally, getting to her feet.

With a small sigh and a sardonic smile, Acton set his book on the box next to him. "Go where? You don't have a home. You don't have a family, or anywhere to go to."

Ember looked around, and then clasped her hands in front of her; she forced them to her side when she had the unsettling thought that the only hand she had to hold any more was her own. She had to be strong now.

"I'll leave the island," she said bravely.

Acton's smile only broadened. "And then?"

"I'll finish school, and get a job, and an apartment."

"And a cat?" Acton mocked. " Ember, people are only people because of their stories. Families, and histories. You don't want any of that?"

She held her hands out in the air, unsure what he wanted her to say. "I don't have any of that."

"But you want it."

"Doesn't everybody?"

"Of course they do," Acton said, getting to his feet. "So why are you so willing to give up on it?"

"They don't want me here," Ember said with another shrug. "And she apparently owns the island, and she doesn't want people around that she doesn't like so..." Ember paused, and then looked up at Acton. "Wait. She hates you. Why do you get to live here?"

Acton leaned back against a wall, flicking open the lid on a box to pull out two green bottles. He twisted the cap off of one and handed it to Ember, and then gave a shrug. "First and foremost, hate is a strong word, and I don't suppose your mother hates me more than anyone else who lives here. She definitely hates you more than she hates me." He kicked some boxes around on the floor to create a space for them to sit, and then gestured Ember down. "Second, she does not now, and nor has she ever, owned the entire island. The Knoxes have been here longer. We own our plot, and we are joint owners of a lot of Main."

Ember sniffed at the neck of the bottle.

"It's beer," Acton said with a frown. "Drink it. It will make your life easier."

Ember eyed him with a flicker of anger, but took a gulp anyways.

Acton leaned back on his box, letting his body fill the space as he rested his head against the wall. "However, I suppose your mother could evict us, or worse, if she chose to. But she won't, because she needs us."

"Well," Ember said bitterly. "That's arrogant of you."

"You're a mean drunk."

"I'm not drunk yet."

Acton only raised his eyebrows. "As much as she may hate me, my mother, or my brothers, the Knoxes run this town. We're a necessary evil to your mother. So as long as we keep everyone in line, we get to stay. And as long as we stay, no one bothers Gina Gillespie in the little commune she's made for her precious family."

Ember sneered. "Yeah, precious. I feel so precious."

"Precious is overrated," Acton replied.

"So then what are you proposing?" she grunted.

He leaned forward again, and offered Ember the bottle he had in his hands. She looked down in confusion, and realized her own bottle was already empty. She didn't feel drunk, but pushed the new bottled away in dismay.

"I propose that you embrace being the reject," Acton explained slowly. "Come be a Knox for a while. I can assure you a good time, and in return, you'll have a family here."

"A family?" Ember said, incredulous. "The Knox family?"

Acton shrugged and nodded.

"And I would have to do what?" She blinked. The world was tilting. The alcohol was starting to take hold.

"Tolerate my ungainly appearance and company," Acton said with a laugh. "I will arrange some outings, which you will attend and participate in. I will deliver you back to the Gillespie household, safely and with escort, every evening. Your participation is entirely voluntary, and you may decline any invitation you wish."

Ember leaned against the stack of boxes next to her, trying to unfold all of the sentences as the alcohol made each one slip from her grasp. "I should go home."

"So you'll go with it?"

"Go with what?" she half-whined, laughing and shaking her head. "It sounds like dating. I don't understand what you're getting out of it."

"It's just a wish of mine, Ember. Like a birthday wish—I can't tell you, or it might not come true. Will you help me get my wish, if I help you get your family?" Acton smiled genially. He reached out to take her hands, and slowly helped her to her feet. "You and I, we're not worthy. It would pain your mother to think that the two of us had worked out our differences, because it would be a threat to her tiny kingdom. It would mean that the two of us might stand to take it all away from her, and her precious Thalia, because she wants Thalia to have it all. You deserve your half."

"My half?" Ember laughed as she stumbled in his arms towards the door. Acton grabbed the book on their way out, shoving it deep into one of his pockets. "Why should I do this?"

The rain outside had slowed to a cold drizzle; the mist was so fine that it seemed to sneak right through her clothes to land on the skin beneath.

"Why is always wet here?" Ember spat. "Maybe I don't want half of this. Why should I help you hurt my family?"

Acton turned her, holding her up by her shoulders as she swayed on her feet.

"You'll help me because they aren't your family," he said earnestly. "I'm your friend now, and the Knoxes are your family. We want you, and you don't know for a fact that anyone else ever will. The Gillespies won't. You'll help us because we are your family now, and because that's what family does."

Chapter 5

The trip home was a mess. Despite Acton's best efforts, Ember managed to slip and fall twice, covering herself in mud. At least the cold and the damp had sobered her enough to stand on the stoop, alone, when they arrived back at the house.

The misting rain was collecting on the leaves, eaves, and pines, and every so often a drip would drop with a splat to the forest floor. It made Ember wince and glance around her. Even though she knew it was only rain, the sound was unnerving. It was like a hundred tiny fairies, snapping twigs and crunching leaves as they surrounded her in the dark. With the clouds blocking all the stars and the moon, the only light was cast from the one dim bulb above the door, and it only served to make Ember feel like she was under the interrogation lamp of the universe.

She only had to knock twice. When the door swung open, it was Gina standing on the other side.

"You're going to wake up your sister," she said. Her eyes narrowed in annoyance, and her voice was stern. "You smell like beer."

Ember shrugged and nodded.

"Thalia told you to be home by dark."

Still standing in the rain, Ember once again nodded.

Gina looked her over, pausing on her wide, tired eyes. "You broke the rules. Good night, Ember."

And she started to close the door. With a yelp, Ember lurched forward, shoving her body in the disappearing gap. She felt the heat from the house as it flowed past her and into the night.

"I'm sorry!" she squeaked. Gina hadn't stepped back when Ember forced her way between the door and the frame, and their faces were close. Ember could see the twitch in her mother's left eye. "I meant to be back on time, but I ran into someone, and we were talking, and—"

Gina lowered her gaze. "Who?"

Ember paused, trying to figure if she should lie. Gina was waiting.

"Acton Knox." Ember licked her lips and said a silent prayer.

Gina stared into Ember's eyes, and blinked away a distant look into outright hostility as she stepped away from the door. "Get in this house. Stay away from Acton. You're trouble, and he has enough of it on his own. I don't want that kind of mess on my hands."

As Gina held out her hand, pointing toward the stairs, Ember stood and peered through the door, looking for the trap. Like a shy animal, she eventually edged over the threshold, and bolted for escape up the stairs.

"Ember!"

She froze. She could feel Gina's eyes boring into her back.

"Don't knock on this door after dark again. Thalia needs her sleep, and it gives her nightmares."

Ember sighed, turning around. "You can't stop me from going out."

Gina crossed her arms. The same distant look she'd had before was on her face. Her jaw hung slack for a moment, but then she pursed her lips and looked down at the floor.

Ember turned back to go up the stairs. She took three more steps.

"I'll get you a key," Gina finally said in a high whisper. "But you have to promise to use it. Don't knock. I don't want you going out after dark, but if you're going to do it, you're going to use that key to come back in every night. I want you to have a way to get inside this house, when you need to."

Without turning or looking, Ember nodded. She went up and put her muddy clothes in the bathtub, and went to bed.

When the key appeared on her nightstand the next morning, she couldn't bring herself to touch it.

Small and bronze, Gina had attached it to a length of string, wound into a ball and laid neatly along the side. Ember stared at it as though it were a coiled snake about to strike.

In the morning chill, she looked around her room. It was darker than it should have been on account of the taped up window, but there was still enough light to see without flipping a switch. It was a small room, and Ember was nearly sure it wasn't the one she had been in when she was a child. The memories were hazy, but she thought that she had shared a room with Thalia, and there surely wasn't enough space in this room for two beds.

Ember pressed her eyes shut and concentrated. She could remember the nighttime routine—dinner was eaten, the table cleared, the dishes done, and then there was family time in the den. Nan would sit with the paper, and Ember would either read it over her shoulder or sit in the corner with a book. Gina would run a brush through Thalia's hair, and then the two would sew clothing or plant potted seeds that would grow in the south-facing kitchen window until spring, when they were transplanted to the garden.

When it was time for bed, they went upstairs and brushed their teeth. They changed into their pajamas, Gina read them a story, and then tucked them in to bed, and sang them songs until they feel asleep.

Ember opened her eyes. She could remember the smell of Thalia's hair as they laid in bed. She always slept with it in a braid, and it looked so much like a fancy braid that Ember often found it hard to keep from touching or smelling it. They had shared a bed when they were little.

Now, Thalia could hardly stand to be around her.

Ember looked back at the key on her nightstand, and her clothes strewn about the floor, and suddenly didn't want it. It made her feel like she was falling into the sky, as through gravity had shut off. The key meant that she had no anchor anymore. She could leave when she wanted, and return when she wanted, if she wanted, because Gina wasn't looking out for her anymore.

Refusing to touch the key, Ember slipped out of the bed, holding her comforter around her like a poorly-fitting winter jacket to keep the morning chill off of her skin. She picked up some clothes from the floor and went to the bathroom to shower, turning the water so hot that it made her skin pink and painful to touch. After too much hot, the cold felt good. It made it easier to change clothes.

With her hair still wet, she walked downstairs to breakfast. Thalia and Nan had been laughing about something, but Thalia's smile vanished when she saw Ember standing at the end of the table.

"I told you to get home before dark," she said.

"I know." Ember paused. "I'm sorry."

Thalia stared at her a moment longer, and then went back to eating her oatmeal. Nan was giving them both suspicious looks. The frown marks made deep trenches in the wrinkly skin on her face, from the height of her brow to the tip of her chin. Ember leaned to peek into the kitchen, and was about to ask where Gina was, when she spotted something outside the kitchen window.

"Is the back yard on fire?" she asked, squinting.

Thalia turned to look, and then shrugged. "Mom had some stuff to burn."

"Stuff?" Ember asked, looking her sister in the eye.

Thalia shrugged again as she chewed on her oatmeal for a little too long. When she finally swallowed and opened her mouth, Nan cut her off.

"Old boxes from the shipments," the ancient woman grunted, sending a small streamer of spittle to settle on her chin. A tiny half-bit of oatmeal sat right at the end of it, like an exclamation point. "She burns them—the boxes and the crates. We've got nowhere to put them, and they pile up in the side yard, and then the damn spiders start nesting in them."

Ember tried not to stare as Nan wiped off her chin with the back of her wrist.

"Some people think spiders are good luck," she mumbled absently. "They say a spider hid the Christ child from Herod when he was born."

Nan leveled her glare on the girl, and Ember suddenly felt three feet shorter. Nan had picked up a butter knife to point as she spoke. "You're a Christian, girl?"

Ember looked from the knife in her grandmother's hands to her accusing eyes, and felt the air escape her lungs like it had been sucked out into the vacuum of space. She turned to Thalia.

"We're a Christian household," Thalia offered. The way she said it was almost robotic.

"Yes!" Ember gushed in relief. "Yes, I'm a Christian."

Nan contemplated for a moment; her eyes danced around Ember's face as she pressed the flat of the knife to her lips. Slowly she set it back down on the table. "You're a liar. Real Christians don't need permission or prompting. Damn Christians go around telling damn well everyone what they think and who's right and who's wrong......"

Nan hoisted herself up from her chair, and grumbled herself into the kitchen to put her dish up in the sink. Ember looked back at Thalia.

"She's more devout some days than others," Thalia said quietly, looking at the table.

"The problem," Nan continued, walking back out into the dining room, "With Christians, is the same as the problem with spiders. You're going along fine in your life, and then, bam! They drop off the ceiling and scare the crap out of you. You're swatting them with newspapers to make them go away, and the lucky ones escape out the door. A perfect afternoon of reading is ruined, and your coffee's all over the damn floor..."

Ember waited until the older woman had ambled up the stairs before turning back to Thalia.

"She doesn't really think that Christians drop from the ceiling," Thalia said seriously.

"Are you sure?" Ember asked, raising her eyebrows.

They had just started to smile—both of them, together, for the first time in Ember's memory—when the back door slammed open.

"Yow!" Gina yelled, grabbing at the door handle as another gust of wind threatened to bounce it off the wall. She kept talking as she turned to shut the door and lock it behind her. "It's a cold one today, I'm going to have to talk to—"

When their eyes met, Ember felt the fun sweep from the room, like it had gone with the wind out the door. Gina's eyes glistened momentarily, and then she looked at the floor as she walked into the kitchen.

Ember looked back to Thalia, whose lips had sunken to a sullen frown.

"Excuse me," she whispered, standing and moving toward the stairs.

Gina rinsed off the dishes in the sink, and shut the water off, wringing her hands on the rag that rested over the sink divider. Taking a deep breath, she turned and stared Ember straight in the eye as she walked over to fetch Thalia's plate and fork. With the plate in hand, she paused, her nostrils flaring slightly, and then turned to go back to the sink.

"Are you going to yell at me?" Ember finally asked.

"Why would I yell?" Gina asked levelly. "You've got your key. Take it, use it, and enjoy your vacation. You've got school again in the fall."

"I don't want the key," Ember said, taking a few steps toward her.

Gina took a few steps back. "And I don't want you here, Ember. We've been over this. Do you remember?"

They both froze. Gina slowly brought her hand to rest on her stomach, and then stood up straight. "It's neither of our faults."

With the morning sun angling through the window, making both of their faces bright and without shadows, Ember felt exposed. It was like they were standing there, staring at x-rays of each other's souls.

"That's what I've been trying to tell you. What I never had the words for," Gina continued slowly. "You can't be my daughter any more than I can be your mother. I wish you no ill, and I hope you have a happy life. But you are not my daughter, and you'll have to leave. You'll have to leave the key when you leave, too."

Ember nodded, and looked at the floor.

"What is it?" Gina demanded.

Feeling much smaller than she was, Ember looked back up, and shrugged. "I won't have a family. I'll be alone."

Gina turned back to the sink, and flicked the knob to turn the water back on, picking up the brush to wipe down Thalia's breakfast plate. "If you want a family, then be a good person. Finish school, get a job, and live a normal life. You'll find someone. You'll have some kids. That's your family."

Ember shook her head. "But, I won't have a legacy. I won't have a history, or a past—"

"The past doesn't matter!" Gina snapped, making Ember jump. "You have a future. That's all that matters. Go and live your life. That's what I gave to you, and what I can give to you now: your life." She paused, gripping the sink as she stared at the bits of oatmeal and toast clinging around the lip of the disposal. "I wish things were different, but they aren't. Take it, and go, and be happy. Then we'll both be happy. That's what you really want, isn't it?"

Ember had shut her eyes; her jaw was throbbing. When she realized she was clenching her teeth, she opened her mouth and forced herself to exhale. When she opened her eyes, she saw that Gina was watching her.

"You own the island," Ember said, surprised at the vehemence in her voice.

Gina turned her back to the sink, crossing her arms as she leaned back against the counter. "That's what you want? The land? The money?"

Ember continued to glare at her.

"You can have the money," Gina said, almost too calm. "But the island belongs to Thalia. Believe me, you wouldn't want it anyways. You need to leave this place, and never come back."

With a sneer she couldn't suppress, Ember turned and left. She didn't bother to get a coat. She slammed the door behind her as she stomped from the house and into the wild. It was cold outside, but the heat running in her veins was still too much.

She didn't go home for lunch that day, and had no intention of going back for dinner. She got lost twice, but eventually found a high point that allowed her to spot the dock that hung off of Main; with her bearings back, she made her way through the thicket, intending to go to The Garden. She didn't have her wallet, but Zinny would know she had money.

Apparently, everyone knew she had money.

Huffing as the cold air raked her lungs, Ember rolled her eyes at her own stupidity. She had to be the only girl in history to be raised by paid strangers who hadn't figured out that she was rich.

"Hey, little girl. Want some candy?"

Ember's heart leapt in shock as she spun around. Isaac was twenty feet behind her and off to the left; he rolled up the magazine he had been reading, and awkwardly rose from the log he had been sitting on. His eyes remained on the needle-strewn ground as he took short, deliberate steps toward her, smiling nervously.

"Isaac," Ember said as he stopped in front of her. His magazine, an old copy of American Mechanic, was torn and nearly wrinkled and weathered to death, and the sleeves of his brown sweater weren't in a much better state. Ember frowned as her eyes moved from Isaac's uncombed hair to his watery eyes, and finally to his pale and dirty feet. His toes stuck out like bleached white bones from the cuffs of his ripped jeans.

He wasn't wearing any shoes.

"Are you okay?" She asked, her eyes snapping back to his face. "Isaac, what hap—"

"You shouldn't be out here," he mumbled, taking a step back as she moved toward him. He waggled his ratty magazine at her. "You're supposed to be back at the house. You were out late with Acton. He told me. He tells me everything, tells me—tells me..."

Isaac froze, as if he had heard something in the forest. As Ember stared at him, she saw his face relax, and then his shoulders. It was like watching an ice cream cone melt.

"Isaac!" She lurched forward to catch him as he started to faint, but just before he lost his balance, his leg shot out as if it had a mind of its own. Isaac recovered, and straightened up to face her in one of the most unnatural gestures she had ever seen.

Ember kept her hands on his shoulders, gripping the wide weave on his sweater. "Are you okay?"

Isaac nodded, his eyes staring directly into hers, until he laughed and shook her off.

"I apologize, Em," he said, tucking the magazine into his back pocket. "I come out here sometimes to be alone with my thoughts. Just me, the island, and a little inspiration."

"And you don't wear shoes?" Ember raised her eyebrows. "I mean, it's like fifty degrees out here."

"Yeah," Isaac said with another nervous smile. "And I have low blood pressure—it gets me sometimes when I stand up too quick, as you saw, and the cold doesn't help."

"The cold does that?"

"It does," he said, putting an arm around her shoulders as they started walking again. "You're going to lose yourself at the Garden tonight?"

"Lose myself?" Ember laughed. "Fancy talk for a car guy."

"Ember, Ember, Ember, Ember..." He shook his head. "Do you see any cars around here? I like taking things apart, and seeing how they work. The mechanisms beneath the surface are amazing, and biologic mechanisms are the most interesting."

Ember smiled and nodded. "So you like to sit in nature, and contemplate what makes the universe tick."

"Or something like that." Isaac smiled back.

"How very poetic of you."

"You read poetry?" Isaac asked.

"Only what they assign in school." Ember confessed. "I think it's kind of boring. I mean, okay...Emily Dickinson, and Edgar Allan Poe, stuff like that is okay. But most of it I just don't care for."

"Emily Dickinson..." Isaac said, taking a step forward and spinning to face her. He pressed his hands together, shutting his eyes in thought. "You like dark things. Emily and Edgar were both fond of graveyards, weren't they?"

Ember frowned, pushing past him. "They made death seem beautiful."

His smile never slipping, Isaac followed after her. "If you say so."

Chapter 6

He walked with her back to town, and just as dark was setting in, they found their way to The Garden. Ember looked at the sign and sighed. The thought of drinking didn't bother her anymore. She was beginning to look forward to it.

As they slid through the door, Ember saw Isaac nod to someone across the room. He was already halfway to the bar when Ember spotted Kaylee's blonde head amidst a group of other girls at a table in the corner. She swung her arms, not sure if she was supposed to follow him or not, until her eyes wandered to the other side of the room.

Acton was sitting at a table alone, staring down at a book on the table, with one hand raised in the air. Just as she saw him, and without looking up, he motioned to her with his raised hand. Ember smiled in relief as she went over.

"You look lonely," Acton said to his book.

"You haven't even looked at me," Ember said, taking the chair across from him.

Acton slowly closed his book, frowning. "I can see loneliness across a room, especially when it's radiating from Miss Ember Gillespie in visible waves. How have you been?"

Ember had clenched her fists and blushed when he said her name, enunciating each syllable like he was using it as a curse. "I think that pretty well covers it, actually."

A smile spread across his face as he took her in. "Then you've come to the right place. Welcome home."

Ember smiled, leaning forward in her chair. "So you're not trying to impress the new girl anymore? What happened to your coat?"

Three glasses slammed down on to the table, and Asher slid into the chair next to her.

"It was destroyed," Asher grinned, "In an unfortunate gardening accident."

"A gardening accident?"

Acton scowled. "It was ripped while I was climbing a tree."

Ember turned back to him. "You climb trees?"

"He does when I've stolen, and then hidden, something of value to him in said tree," Asher said, pulling a glass toward himself.

Ember laughed as Acton glowered. "What did you take?"

"Something he holds very dear," Asher said with a self-satisfied grin.

"In any case, it doesn't matter." Acton cleared his throat. "You're not wearing the coat I gave you, and that's a far deeper insult. Did you get the books I left for you?"

The table went quiet. For a moment, Ember wasn't sure who the question was directed at.

"Books?" she finally asked in a quiet voice.

"Books," Acton repeated. "You came out yesterday for books, but we unfortunately left the bookstore without you having picked out any. After leaving The Garden last night, a sentimental mood caught me, and I left you a few of my favorites on your doorstep. Do you remember?"

Ember paused. She didn't remember seeing any books when she left, but then, she had been upset at the time.

"Perhaps you should look for them when you go back," Acton offered. "Of course, that won't be until tomorrow, with any luck."

She couldn't help herself and smiled. "I will. Thanks."

He smiled again, but Ember could tell that he was disappointed. She tried her best to remember, but she still couldn't see the books on the stoop in her mind's eye. She had a fantastic memory, and she had walked right out the front door. If there had been books there, she would have seen them.

Between the window that she had thought was unbroken one second and covered over the next, and now the books, she was beginning to feel like she was going a little crazy.

"Isaac seems to be having some luck tonight," Asher said, looking across the room.

"He deserves it." Acton replied back to him, taking a drink.

"What books were they?" Ember suddenly asked. Acton's gaze slowly turned back to her as he set his glass back on the table.

"Two old collections of Shakespeare's comedies and tragedies," he said, shifting in his chair as if she had caught him off guard. "Also, a few of my old paperbacks. Asimov and Heinlein, mostly—just what I had stored in the back room. I felt badly that you almost got locked out, and didn't even go back with what you came out for."

Finally reaching for the last glass on the table, Ember thought over her response. Old paperbacks were important to their owners. "Thank you. Thank you very much, Acton. I'll have to read them, and then maybe we can talk about them."

"Or not." Acton shrugged. "Books are personal. They're not all worth talking about."

"Science fiction is," Ember insisted.

"You're both boring," Asher said, excusing himself from the table.

"You're familiar with the authors," Acton went on, paying him no attention. "Do you like the genre?"

"It's okay," Ember said, trying not to sound too excited.

Another slow smile graced Acton's face. "I agree."

His expression changed as he caught sight of someone behind her. As Acton sat up a little straighter, Ember twisted around in her seat.

"Ember, this is Joseph." Acton said in a quieted voice, as though he were telling her a secret. "He's new to the island, like you. He's also exceptionally lonely, as you are."

He was big, and the coat he wore, and his oily, shaggy, overgrown hair added a layer of padding that made him seem more like a bear than a human. His shoes had lost their laces, and he'd fitted them to stay on with straps of duct tape across their tops. That crude but effective solution coupled with the lacerations on his calloused hands made her believe he was either a fisher or a lumberjack.

However, it was his lips she had trouble looking away from. They were too red, and too small for his round face. They were like puckered children's lips after eating a cherry ice pop. Lips like those had no business on a full grown man.

"Hi, Joseph," she said with a quick smile, turning uncertainly back to Acton. He had a smug look on his face, and Ember wasn't sure why he was introducing her to the stranger.

"Joseph needs some company, so he'll be around some," Acton explained.

Ember slowly turned back to look at Joseph. He still hadn't responded to her greeting, and he was staring at Acton with a sort of disgruntled hatred that made Ember uneasy. She sank a little lower in her seat as she turned back to stare at the table.

"Excuse us, Joseph," Acton said with a wave. "Asher's around here somewhere. He'll keep you entertained."

Ember's eyes darted up to look at Acton's face as she heard Joseph shuffle away, and for the first time, she was conscious of the fact that she wasn't sure if Acton was a trustworthy person.

"Who is he?" she asked, shaking her head as she leaned forward over the table. "He's old."

Acton leaned his chair back so that he could bring his ankle up to rest on his knee. He looked down his nose with half-closed eyes to assess Joseph's back.

"What if I told you that the two of you had met before?" he asked. "Yesterday?"

"No, we didn't."

"Yes, you did. You just don't remember."

Ember paused, and felt a nervous flutter in her stomach. Acton was telling her a thing of wonder, but she didn't think that she liked the look in his eye.

"How is that possible?"

"I won't let anything happen to you, Em, just as I promised," Acton raised his eyebrows, leaning in toward her further. "I like you too much as a toy. Your mother has some good reasons for not liking me, though, and my affliction is at the top of her list. I have a very special gift, one that your mother calls a curse, because I can control what other people do. And my friend Joseph," he pointed, "he has a special gift, too. He can rewrite people's memories. Unfortunately, our gifts only work on certain people. Mine doesn't work on you...but Joseph's does. And using my gift to control his, we've been having a lot of fun with you at your mother's expense over the last two weeks. In any case, I'm sorry you missed the books. I didn't mean to erase that bit. I guess I'll have to try to put it back."

Ember swallowed, feeling herself start to shake. She stood up from the table and started to look for an escape, but everyone else in the bar went about their business like they didn't even notice. Acton didn't even move.

"That's not even possible," she said in alarm, looking back at Acton in panic. "I don't believe you. Why would you do that?"

"It's just what we do for fun around here," he said with a shrug. "You'll get used to it. And I don't care if you don't believe me. You won't remember any of this, anyways."

When Ember woke up the next morning, she followed what had become her typical routine. She cursed the cold and kept her blankets wrapped around her shoulders until the water in the shower ran hot enough for her to step in. She dressed herself and did her hair, and then started down the stairs for breakfast. It wasn't until the last step, when she tried to collect her thoughts to respond to the inevitable question about why she had been out so late, that she had the sudden and sinking realization that she couldn't remember the last sixteen hours of her life.

As her foot hovered over the stair, she had another stark realization. She wasn't hung over. Adrenaline flooded her veins as goose bumps rose on her flesh, and she sat down on the stairs.

She remembered yesterday morning, and the fight with her mother. She had left the house, and hiked for a while, and then run into Isaac, and they had gone to the bar. She had spoken with Acton about books, and a creepy old guy, and then...

Nothing.

She pressed her hands to her head, wondering if it was possible to get drunk enough to black out, and then not have a hangover. She was almost sure it wasn't possible.

An expression of horror spread over her face as she realized that she didn't even remember coming home. She hadn't taken her key with her when she left—that much she was sure of—which meant that someone had let her in. It had probably been Gina, and Ember didn't even remember it.

She jumped back to her feet and raced back up the stairs. She couldn't face Gina without at least having some idea what had happened the night before. If she waited, the memories would come back—they had to.

But as she turned the corner at the top of the stairs to go back to her room, she ran into Thalia, coming out of her room to use the bathroom.

"Oh!" Ember exclaimed as they collided. "I am so sorry—excuse me!"

Thalia only raised a hand to wave her off with a mild smile. "No problem."

But before either of them could shut their door, Ember stopped.

"Hey..." she said quietly. "Shouldn't you be down at breakfast?"

Thalia looked confused for a moment, and then walked over to stand next to her sister. Her eyes were filled with fear as she leaned in to whisper. "Lunch was three hours ago. And you're welcome—I still can't believe you climbed the trellis and got through my window while you were drunk. Just don't do it again. Mom would really freak out if she knew, so remember your key next time."

Ember felt dread in the pit of her stomach as Thalia examined her with wide, innocent eyes before she turned and left her. It wasn't possible; there was no way she could have done those things if she had been drinking. She had trouble walking if she had been drinking. And if she had come in late enough to sleep three hours past lunch without realizing it, it must have been an eventful night.

And she couldn't remember any of it.

Like a robot, she went stiffly back to bed. She laid on her back, staring at the ceiling, begging her brain to bring back anything that would tell her what had happened.

Chapter 7

At midnight, Ember was still lying awake in her bed. She hadn't left her room, not even when her mother had called her down for dinner, and not even when Thalia put a plate of food just outside her door.

As she laid awake, listening to the silence in the house, she decided everyone must be asleep, and slowly opened her bedroom door. She padded down the stairs in her socks, slipped on the first pair of shoes by the door and a coat from the pegs by the door—she wasn't sure whose they were—and slid out the front door, deftly shutting it behind her.

She stared down at the steps that led up to the door. She looked, but couldn't find the books that Acton said he left for her.

Sighing and pulling the coat tighter around her chest, she stared out into the dark. The woods were nearly invisible, except for the tangle of upward reaching boughs that framed the face of the heavens. In all of her life, Ember had never seen so many stars. They were like a billion tiny mirrors in the sky, reflecting back what little hope and light there was on the planet; even as little as they were, they made Ember feel at peace.

Taking one more look to be sure all the lights were still off in the house, Ember trudged around to the side where Thalia's window was located. The trellis was ancient, and made of weathered, rusting wrought iron, and it was entirely grown over by a thorny monstrosity of thick green brambles that, from a proper distance, looked like it was eating the house. The rust had gotten so bad that it ran down the side of the house like massive bloody streaks, adding to the illusion.

Several joints were broken, and the old welding spots had sharp edges. As Ember stared into the vicious mass of thorns and torn metal, and looked from the ground up at Thalia's window far above her, she considered it a small miracle that she was still alive. She laid one had on an exposed, rusty grip, but still couldn't remember any of it. She looked at her palms, but there weren't any cuts.

Shaking her head, she was just turning to go back inside when something in the dark. A speck of something bright on the ground caught her eye. She warily scanned the tree line, and took two steps forward, toward the one lonely bit of white that wasn't in the sky.

A deep chuffing made her stop. She broke into a cold sweet.

It was right next to her. She was frozen in place, and too afraid to even turn her head to see what it was.

It broke from where it had been standing stock-still and made for the trees. Ember's heart quickened to a panicked race. The creature, whatever it was, tromped back into the wilderness.

And then she turned and ran back to the front door, not caring a damn about how much noise she made.

As luck would have it, she had managed to lock herself out of the house. As she frantically pounded on the door, screaming at the top of her lungs, she knew in the pit of her stomach that her mother would never open the door for her, and her key was still sitting on the nightstand.

When the door did pop open, and Ember saw her mother wielding a butcher knife and her grandmother swinging a meat cleaver, she tripped over her shoes as she took a shocked breath in and a quick step back. Shutting her eyes in anticipation of the impact, she felt someone catch the front of her shirt, and then her back slammed against something hard.

When Ember's eyes reopened, she felt a blade against her throat as Gina kicked the front door shut.

"You damn fool!" Ethel hissed as she leaned in closer to Ember's face. "You damn, stupid little girl!"

"Mom!" Gina said, pulling at the older woman's shoulders as her knife clattered to the floor. "Mom! It's Ember, put the knife down! She doesn't know what she's doing, put it down!"

As they continued to struggle, and Ethel continued to hold Ember against the entryway wall, it was the sound of sobs from the top of the stairs that finally made everyone stop.

Ethel's grip loosened enough that Gina was able to pry the meat cleaver out of her hand, and she tossed it onto the couch. She ran toward the stairs and the sound of Thalia's breakdown, hissing under her breath. "She's never going to sleep again. Both of you go to bed—I don't want to hear another noise until daybreak. Go."

Ember stared into the crazed eyes of her grandmother as Gina disappeared up the stairs. As the sounds of Thalia's panicked, short breaths and Gina soothing her drifted down the stairs, Ethel slapped Ember across the face. Then she hugged her. Not knowing what to do, Ember stared at the floor as her cheek stung.

Eventually, the sounds up the stairs quieted, and a door closed, muffling them for good. Ethel walked away like she couldn't remember where she was or what was happening. Ember sank to the floor with her back against the wall, hugging herself in a stranger's coat, and still not knowing whose shoes she was wearing.

The knife her mother had been gripping with white knuckles when she threw the door open was lying on the floor a few feet away from her. She frowned, wondering what her mother had expected to find when answering the door. A monster, presumably, to warrant such a use of force.

It made Ember smile ironically; the only monster on this island was already inside the house. It was Gina.

The next day, no one talked about it. Thalia sat at the breakfast table with puffy, red eyes, twitching at every loud sound and sudden movement. Ethel was oblivious, and Gina sat with no food in front of her, staring out the window.

Ember picked at her oatmeal, her eyes occasionally darting up to the people who were forcefully ignoring her.

"I need you to leave for a while today, Ember," she said, just as Ethel started clearing plates away. She looked her in the eye. "I need you to get out of this house. Thalia needs things to get back to normal for a bit."

Ember smiled sheepishly, feeling the blush creep up her neck. "Where should I go?"

"Out. Away." Gina shook her head. "I don't care where you go. Stay out all night...just give us the day. Just..." Gina hesitated, sucking air through her teeth as she glanced at Ethel. "Stay away from the other people here. They're not the types I want you around."

Gina's words hung in the silence. Several minutes later, Ember calmly folded her napkin and placed it next to her dish.

"So, let me get this straight," she started. "You want me to leave the house, and stay out after dark, and not talk to anyone all day. What am I supposed to do? You want me to walk laps around the edge of the island?"

Gina slouched into her shoulders, looking defeated for the first time in Ember's memory. "Don't go near the water. Or Main, stay away from there, and all the shops. Go for a nature walk. Or else, you can stay here, but only if you can stay in your room and be completely quiet."

"You're being serious," Ember said gravely.

"Very," Gina spat. "It was a mistake to bring you back here. I can't think while you're in this house."

"Mom..."

Gina's eyes flashed at Thalia. "You just need some quiet time, Lia. Ember's going to go for a walk, and think about what she did."

"No," Thalia shook her head. "Mom, what are you saying? Just let her stay here, in her room. It's safer."

Looking caught between amusement and annoyance at Thalia's sentiment, Gina turned back to Ember. "The choice is hers, I suppose. Stay and be quiet, or go for a walk."

Staring around at her family, Ember decided that it was pointless to argue. Gina was nearly crazy, and Thalia seemed to have bought into her delusions that the world was out to get them. Every one of them except Ember, it appeared, because Gina wanted her to go wandering alone in the wild. Seething, she wondered if her mother was secretly hoping she would get eaten or murdered if she left the house.

She walked back up the stairs, intent on having a long day of reading, but her plans were cut short when she found all of her books were missing from her suitcase. She dumped the whole bag on the floor, eliciting a yelled warning from her mother when her shoes landed with a ka-thunk.

Poking around the mess with her foot, and eventually spreading it all out, she stood in the middle of the room, turning slowly. The books were gone, and they weren't the only thing missing.

The red wool coat that Acton Knox had given her was gone, too.

Despite herself, Ember ran down the stairs, making a horrible racket as she went.

"Where are they?" she demanded.

Ethel, Thalia, and Gina were all still sitting at the breakfast table.

"What?" Gina asked indifferently.

"You know what," Ember insisted, trying to keep her voice calm. "The books. My new red jacket. Where are they?"

Gina looked down at the table, shrugging, and then looked Ember in the eye. She didn't speak again, so Ember fetched her key, wallet, and jacket, and let the back screen door clap shut behind her.

She shook her head, shoving her hands into her pockets as she walked away from the house. When she finally looked down from the sky, her eyes landed on a bit of white in the middle of the fire pit her mother had made. It must have been the same thing that she had noticed the night before.

She knew what it was before she even got to the pit, but she was disappointed all the same. In the ring of ashes, neatly trimmed by carefully laid salmon and tan flagstones, just off to the left, was a ripped piece of a hardback book cover.

Ember picked it up, turning it over to look at the cover side, but there wasn't a title. She didn't recognize it, but knew immediately where it had come from. It was one of the books that Acton had left for her.

Her mother had burned the books that Acton had tried to give her. Beyond the fact that they were books, they appeared to be expensive ones.

It was an old red leather book, which was probably why it hadn't burned like it was supposed to. Pressing her lips together to suppress a grimace, Ember looked at the soot that covered both of her palms, and it somehow felt like they ink of the dead book had bled all over her hands. She ached in her chest as she tried to decide what to do with the poor broken thing. It seemed wrong to simply throw it back in the pit, so she tucked it into her back pocket.

She stirred the ashes with a stick, looking for any evidence of the red jacket that had once belonged to Acton's mother, but there wasn't any. Wool burned easily.

When she was done, Ember turned back to the house. Gina was standing in the kitchen window, making no effort to disguise her lack of remorse as she held Thalia's head to her shoulder, slowly stroking her hair.

With a chill already creeping into her dirty fingers, Ember thought she would have felt something...maybe anger, or depression. But looking at her mother and Thalia, all she felt was that she was interfering. Gina was the local crazy woman—she owned everything, and hated everyone that she allowed on her land. She hated one daughter and loved another, and she believed that everyone living around her was dangerous enough to warrant answering the door with a knife.

Apparently, she also burned books.

As Gina turned to walk deeper in to the house, taking Thalia with her, Ember shook her head. Thalia was being raised by two crazy women, and she didn't even realize that anything was wrong. Ember started for the gate to get out of the yard, wondering if she hadn't been the lucky one after all.

She wasn't too far from the house when Acton Knox was suddenly standing in front of her, wearing his old leather jacket once again. There was a man with him that gave Ember pause, but she couldn't place him.

"My crazy mother burned your books." Ember said plainly, producing the cover scrap from her back pocket. "Your mom's coat too, I think. Sorry."

Acton slowly took the fragment, frowning. "I thought she might. You kept this?"

Ember shrugged. "My mom's crazy. Book burning is evil..."

Acton shook his head, running his fingers over the surface. "That's a shame. Are you going to throw this away?"

"It's yours."

"I gave it to you," Acton said, looking up with interest.

Ember held her hand out to take the cover back from him. "No. I'll hide it from her. I like books. Even damaged ones."

Acton smiled as she took it, and then compulsively rubbed his hands together, seeming to notice the ash for the first time.

She meant to ask what had happened the last time she had seen him, and how much she had drunk. She meant to ask something important, about something she couldn't remember, and stopping short on the stairs the next morning. But as Ember tucked the cover back into her back pocket, eyeing the stranger once again, the thoughts calmly slipped away from her. They hadn't been properly introduced.

"Hey," she said finally.

The stranger didn't respond. He kept his eyes on his duct taped shoes.

"Ember, this is Joseph," Acton said, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket to clean his hands. "Have the two of you met?"

Ember tried not to let her expression betray her confusion. She wasn't sure if she had met Joseph or not. She might have, but she might have been too intoxicated to remember him.

"No," she said with a smile, offering her hand. "I don't believe I have."

Joseph's eyes flashed up to meet hers, and a light smile graced his small, damp lips.

"How wonderful," Acton said with a smile. "Joseph is a friend of mine—I'm sure you'll get to know each other very well. You have more in common than you know."

Chapter 8

When Ember's eyes opened, she wasn't sure if the plan had worked or not. She stared at her ceiling, and then her eyes wandered to the window.

It was dark out. The plan had worked.

It had been Acton's idea. He had taken her to The Garden first, where she had insisted on sticking to soda, and then they had gone out to watch the sunset. Acton had suggested that they stay out to watch the stars, and when Ember had protested that she was tired, he laughed and reminded her that she wasn't supposed to go home until morning. Then, he told her that he would keep her up all night, and that she could sleep during the day.

It was a perfect deal—if Ember slept during the day, and stayed out all night, she would never have to see her family. Gina couldn't complain that she was intruding if they were on opposite schedules.

And she had been complaining. The entire time since Ember's arrival, and she had said some terrible things.

When it got cold, the alcohol had finally seemed appealing. They had stayed out in the forest chasing fairies for what seemed like hours.

Ember shook her head. The alcohol had made the lights seem so real.

She knew they weren't real fairies, but somehow, she wanted to believe the magic of the previous night. They had chased fairies, and then Isaac collected a pile of bones——it must have been sticks, or small white stones.

Ember rubbed the sleep from her eyes, smiling. It was morning again...or night, rather, and it was time for another day. It was time to go out and meet Acton again.

She slipped out of the clothes she was wearing, because they were the same clothes she had been wearing the day before, and slipped into a new pair of jeans, a tee shirt, a sweater, and her jacket. As a final thought, she peeled up the corner of her mattress, where she had hidden the burned book cover.

Satisfied that it was still there, she tugged on her shoes and went to open her bedroom door. When her mother's crossed-arm form appeared on the other side, she almost screamed in surprise.

"Where were you?"

"Gina!" Ember hissed. "Don't do that!"

The woman took two quick steps toward her, and Ember backed up.

"It's 'mom' to you," Gina said quietly. "Where were you last night?"

Ember crossed her arms, sneering. "Out."

"With who?" Gina pressed. "Acton? Isaac? Who were you with? Was it Joseph?"

Ember shrugged. "I was with Acton. Sue me."

Gina reached out and grabbed Ember's chin, forcing her to look her in the eye. When Ember tried to pull away, Gina only gripped her harder.

"Ow! Geez, mom, ouch!" Ember finally managed to twist out of her grasp. "What the hell?"

"Since when do you talk like that?"

"Like what?" Ember heard the volume of her voice rising, and tried to keep it down. Thalia shouldn't have to suffer on account of Gina's craziness.

"Were you there when they killed the deer?" Gina said in another whisper. "Did you see them mutilate the body?"

"Hey!" Ember said, finally ducking around Gina and making it out the door. "No, I did not kill or mutilate any animals last night. We mostly hung out and got drunk and played with junk we found in the forest."

Ember took the stairs as quickly as she dared, and heard her mother's fleet footsteps just behind her.

"Ember, this is very serious!" she said. "They are going to kill you! You are going to die, it is not safe to be out there!"

"Mom," Ember said, stopping at the front door. "You're exhausted. Get some sleep, and pretend I don't exist. We'll both have a better time."

"I don't need to—" Gina grabbed her shoulders. "Ember, I don't need to sleep. But I cannot stay here watching your sister and be out there watching you too, and something is going on, and you have to tell me—"

"Mom." Ember reached around her mother's arms to grab her by the shoulders; she waited until Gina had let go of her to speak. "You're candy apple crazy, Gina Gillespie. You've spent my entire life telling me to get out of your house and your life, and I am granting your wish. I'm gone, and I wish you nothing but the best, and I pray that your condition isn't hereditary. Just let me go, and go to bed. God knows I am not willing to be your caretaker. You don't want me to wake up Thalia, do you?"

Gina raised a single finger, pointing at the ceiling. "I am not crazy."

"Thalia!"

"God—damn it!" Gina spun toward the stairs, and the noises of Thalia's distressed waking, as Ember broke and ran out the front door.

It was dark in the forest, but to Ember, it felt bright. There was girlish laughter ringing through the trees; it took a moment for Ember's eyes to focus, but then she saw Kaylee, running through the forest. Isaac was chasing after her, trying to grab something from her hand, and it took Ember a moment, squinting in the dark, to figure out what it was.

It was a dead rabbit.

For a second, Ember's smile faltered. Then, as she stared at the limp body swaying in Kaylee's grasp, she realized that she wasn't looking at rabbit ears. They were socks——white socks—poking from the top of her hand.

"On the one night that Isaac decides to wear shoes, too."

Ember turned around to see Acton standing behind her with someone she didn't recognize. She smiled, shoving her hands into her pockets. It was cold, and her breath made little clouds that disappeared on the wind.

Acton wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pushing his dark hair back with his hand. It glimmered like it was wet, but Ember couldn't imagine being out in the cold with wet hair.

"This is Joseph, my cousin," Acton said, gesturing to the stranger. "He's come to stay with us for a few weeks."

Ember looked down at Joseph's shoes. They were all taped up, and for some reason, it bothered her. He was wearing jeans and a tee-shirt, and he didn't have a jacket, but he didn't look the slightest bit cold.

With a vacant expression in his eyes, Joseph stepped back, and Ember shifted uncomfortably, suddenly realizing that Acton's grip on her had tightened like a vice. As Joseph's large frame moved away, a woman appeared behind him.

"We can do this all night, Ethel, but it won't stop me," Acton said, annoyed. "She wants to be with me. We're only having fun, and I haven't returned her with so much as a scratch yet."

"You're dripping on her," the blond woman said, taking two more steps forward. "She may be one of us, but she's still human. She can die of cold."

Acton's arm jerked tighter, and Ember suddenly felt the chill run down her side. She turned her head as she ran her hand down Acton's sleeve. He was soaked through. She couldn't say why it didn't bother her, or why she hadn't noticed before.

"One more step and there might be a scratch," Acton said, taking a half step backward and dragging Ember with him. "She makes these choices of her own free will, so this isn't a matter for your concern. I've broken no rules."

"She's high on hypnosis," Ethel said. "She comes home comatose and forgetful. You're saying that isn't a mark? You're calling that free will?"

"I'm defending her innocence," Acton said, raising an eyebrow. "I thought you might appreciate the gesture. However, if you want her to start remembering these outings...well, it can be arranged."

Ethel took another step forward, and Ember could see that she was soaking too—as though everyone had gone swimming with their clothes on. Acton's fingers twitched, digging into her upper arm, and Ember let out a yelp.

Ethel stopped. Her lips peeled back into a snarl. Faster than Ember could see, she suddenly had Joseph on the ground in front of her, holding a butcher knife that looked larger than life in the moonlight to his throat. Not knowing what had just happened, Ember withdrew, burying her face into Acton's arm for protection.

She wanted to speak. She wanted to ask what was happening, but the questions seemed to evaporate as quickly as they formed.

"Now, see what you've done?" Acton said forcefully. His grip loosened, just a little, and he ran his hand down Ember's back and laid a light kiss on her brow. "This one is damaged. You have another one, and you never wanted this one to begin with. Let me have my fun, and she'll leave alive, unharmed, and none the wiser. You have my word, Ethel. Let me have this one for the season, and I'll never touch your family again. It's the best deal you're going to get—you know you can't catch me, and you can't kill what you can't catch. Take my mercy and be happy with it."

Ethel's eyes sparked with a sudden rage, and even though Ember could swear that the air around them had suddenly gotten warmer, a chill ran down her spine.

"I'm doing you a favor," Acton added. "I could just take her, but I'm going to let her go."

"We know what you're doing!" Ethel hissed. "I know what his trick is, and two can play at that game. And you'll do what you feel like, Acton, that's always been your problem."

"Well," Acton said as Ember wrapped her arms around him. He looked disdainfully at Joseph, laying patiently on the ground as Ethel's knife dug in uncomfortably beneath his chin. "I suppose I'll face those consequences, if it comes to that."

Ethel shifted, her knuckles turning white around the knife handle. "I will kill him, Acton, and then your game is over."

"Yes, and you'll have a mess on your hands in the morning." Acton laughed. "Go ahead and cut him. If you kill him now, she will remember it in the morning, and she's no hunter, Ethel. She's a little girl from Pennsylvania. She'll spend the rest of her life in a psych ward if she watches you take his head off, and you can go home and explain to your daughter what you did to take away her baby's normal, perfect life. Or, you give me back my ward, we all walk away, and tomorrow she's just another rebellious teen home from a night of drinking and light debauchery. Your choice."

Ethel took several deep breaths, her eyes never leaving Acton's face. When she finally withdrew the knife, and Joseph scrambled away into the dark, Ember briefly wondered if she was about to charge at them.

Instead, she turned and walked away. "I'll be watching, Acton."

"Always," he replied. "I wouldn't expect any less."

As Ethel dissolved into the darkness, Asher appeared in her place.

He sighed, shaking his head as he looked at Ember and offered up Acton's jacket. "You're dripping all over her. Is she going to need a change of clothes?"

"Only if she starts to shiver," he said, taking his jacket from Asher and draping it around Ember's shoulders. "That should be good enough."

Looking around, Asher raised his hands. "And you've lost the stooge. Where is Joseph? You know he can't take care of himself."

"Isaac will bring him back," Acton said, waving him off. "He was here before Ethel arrived."

"Where are the fairies?" Ember asked, gazing around the forest. The world had darkened when Ethel arrived, chasing away the little drifting lights she thought should have been there.

Asher laughed, taking a step forward, but one look from Acton made him stop where he was. Acton turned to Ember, rubbing her arms. "I'm sure they're around, Em, but tonight I want to do something special."

"Special?" Ember echoed.

"Very," Acton said, with a glitter in his eyes. "Tonight, we're catching rabbits."

"Rabbits?"

"I have no doubt that you'll be very good at it. You're a hunter, after all."

"A hunter?"

"So many questions!" Acton said, walking away.

Ember followed him, and at a safe distance, Asher followed her.

"Why are we hunting rabbits?" Ember asked, trying to whisper.

Asher walked closer to her, enjoying the invitation. "Well, Isaac likes to use them, and Acton is giving him a treat for his assistance with Joseph."

Ember nodded, but she was having trouble retaining the details. "His cousin Joseph?"

Asher looked confused for a moment, and then called up to Acton. "Are you going to stick to a story?"

"Nope," Acton replied. "Making them up is too much fun. Although, I did like it when he was having an affair with Zinny, and she was twitching all night whenever he got too close. I think maybe next time I'm going to just make him some guy who's stalking her."

"If you give her a heart attack, I will help Ethel bring you in," Asher said, grabbing Ember's arm as she stumbled and threatened to fall. "I'm not going down for killing a hunter."

"She's not a hunter. Not a proper one, anyways, and we're all going down, Ash." Acton stopped, gazing around the forest. "We're all going to pay with our lives eventually, so you may as well live it up while you can. Take it out on her—she's as close to Gina as you're ever going to get."

Ember staggered along, hardly aware of their conversation until they stopped in a clearing. A small fire was burning, and Isaac was sitting on a log with Kaylee next to him. She was wringing something in her hands as Isaac nuzzled her neck, but Kaylee wasn't enjoying it.

Next to them, there was a large pile of what looked like drowned rats. As Ember got closer, the small dead eyes of twenty dead rabbits stared back at her, and she took a sharp breath in.

"Jesus. Finally," Kaylee said, standing up and thrusting something slimy at Ember. "Make her do it—it's boring when they're already dead."

When the dead ruin of a rabbit slapped wetly against the front of her jacket, Ember starting walking backwards.

"No, no, no, no..."

Isaac's dreamy smile quickly sank into a frown as Kaylee snorted, turning around and tossing the corpse into the fire before wiping her hands off on her shirt. Isaac snatched the rabbit from the flames as she stalked off into the forest, grumbling about Acton's fetishes.

Ember looked to Asher, who rolled his eyes before looking to Acton. As his eyes settled on her, and he gave her a calm, confident smile, Ember felt the weight of the situation settle on her.

There was a pile of cold, dead rabbits sitting next to the fire; Isaac was slowly stroking one of the skinned corpses.

"No, no, no—"

Ember looked down sharply when she felt Asher's hand close like a vice around her upper arm, and felt her stomach sink when she looked up into the cold, cynical expression on his face.

Without knowing what she was doing, or even meaning to do it, she wrenched her arm free from Asher's grasp and darted into the forest. Behind her, she heard Acton barking an order for Isaac to bring back Joseph before the loud buzz of adrenaline and a racing heartbeat filled her ears.

She didn't know what was going on, but she knew it was wrong. She had to get away.

She took ten long strides into the dark, and then turned, hoping that she was going back in the direction of her mother's house, but she wasn't sure—she couldn't remember leaving the house, or which direction they had come from to begin with.

She hurdled a fallen tree and ducked between two bushes, and was almost sure that she had gotten away, when a tree branch sprung out in front of her at the level of her chest. She didn't even feel the impact until she was lying on her back on the forest floor, staring at the stars, and sucking in air as her chest and back throbbed.

"Ash, if that jacket is damaged, I'm making a new one out of your hide."

Ember felt a pair of hands grab her and lift her up from under her armpits, the way someone would lift a small child. She was staring into Acton's face, wondering how he could look so studiously calm and annoyed when she could hardly breathe after her sprint.

"She ran into me. Make it out of her hide." Asher laughed.

Acton's brow furrowed as he gently squeezed Ember's ribcage. When she tried to push him away, he gave her a long, icy stare, and she didn't dare move again—he was checking her for injuries. Even when he set her down, all she could do was stand there. If she ran, he would catch her.

"Ash," Acton said, turning toward his companion. "If you had damaged this jacket, you would be less some skin. But if you had damaged Gina's daughter, you would be less a life."

"I'm not your size," Asher said with exasperation. "And the girl and the jacket are fine! What would you have me do, Acton? She could just as easily hurt herself struggling if I had tried to tackle her."

Ember was already eyeing the next break in the bushes, and wondering if she would be able to slip her arm out of the jacket fast enough if he tried to grab her. The woods were suddenly dark and cold, and the sharp shadows cast by the moon made everything black or white and feral. The air was sharp and wet, and Ember was suddenly so aware of her surroundings that she couldn't stop staring at the glimmering light on every fog-dripping trunk that loomed ahead of her; she turned her gaze back to Acton.

He was staring at her with a small frown. He knew what she was thinking, and he wanted her to run. And as the stars behind him started to glitter like sequins, so bright that it was blinding, somehow, she knew he was making it happen.

She clenched her fists as she stared at him, gritting her teeth until pain shot through her jaw and she could see his face again.

She heard Asher laugh, and it broke her concentration, making her shut her eyes and shake her head at the ground as her knuckles turned white. "Is she actually fighting it?"

"Go help Isaac," Acton said curtly. "Get Joseph back to the beach, and wait for me."

"You're sure—"

"Yes," he snapped, his eyes resting heavily on Asher for a second.

Ember was slowly sinking to her knees, her hands still clenched in on themselves and her eyes shut, shaking her head as she whispered to herself. She had to stay lucid. Something wrong was happening here, and Acton was the cause of it, and somehow he was making her forget things.

She didn't know what, but she knew people kept asking her what she remembered. And that meant that she had forgotten.

Asher took off through the brush, and Acton stared down at the girl on the ground.

"You should listen to your mother," he started, his voice flat. "She must have told you by now that I'm nothing but trouble, but you don't care, do you? Ember, I believe you're the only person I've ever met who wants to prove her wrong more than I do. Is that why you keep coming out here?"

Ember was silent, her arms wrapped around her knees, and Acton's coat was so large on her that the hem was dragging on the forest floor. Acton slowly lowered himself down to her level, staring at the top of her head as she buried her face in her knees.

"You break the spell every night. You know what we're doing, but you keep coming out here." He raised a hand to feel a stray lock of her hair. "You came out here once, and when I didn't come for you, you screamed my name, over and over and over—it was very flattering. But Ember, I'll give you the courtesy of a warning, because I don't play gently with my toys. You should go home."

When she heard him rise and move away, she counted to one hundred before she slowly lifted her head. He was gone. The world was quiet and dark again; the only sounds were her breathing, and the slow pulse of blood in her ears.

"You want me to run, don't you?" she whispered.

The seconds slowly ticked on. Ember was counting her heartbeats in her head, knowing that she wouldn't stop for days now that she had started. Counting things was something she did when the anxiety started, although usually, it was her footfalls that she counted as she walked, and that fact made her legs ache beneath her even more.

When the cold, damp hand laid against the back of her neck, snaking around to her collar bone and raising chicken flesh on her arms and down her back, she knew she had been right.

"And what do you want, Ember?" he whispered, his breath colder than the night air on the back of her ear. "You seek me out every night, and you follow me. You make me babysit you, and keep Asher's hands and Isaac's teeth off of you. If Gina didn't hate the thought of you out here so much, I could swear that you were some trick of hers. Is that what you are? A Trojan horse? Does she intend for me to split you open and find my death inside?"

Despite the bravery she thought she felt, Ember was shaking. She didn't know what to say. "She burned your books."

"Yes, you told me yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that," he sighed.

Ember furrowed her brow. He had only given her the books two days ago...or was it three? The more she tried to line up the events in her head, the more muddled they became. She shook her head, and felt his hand snap away from her. "How long have I been here?"

"Long enough," Acton said, walking back in front of her. "Stand up."

Ember peered up at him, and when she didn't rise fast enough, he grabbed her by the neck of her shirt to force her up.

"Tell me why you came back," he demanded.

Ember stared at him, trying to swallow the dry knot in her throat. When the light caught Acton's eyes right, they flashed, like animals' eyes. "You're...not human."

"Neither are you," he said answered. "Answer the question. Why did you come back here? Why are you chasing me?"

"I'm not!" Ember insisted.

"I went for a walk in the forest, in the dead of night, and you followed me. I went in the water, and you followed me," he said, circling her. "One night, when I wasn't up to babysitting you, Asher told you that I had climbed a tree, and you went up the tree after me. Why?"

Ember was shaking her head, trying to comprehend what he was saying; the water was too cold. No one could swim in it without going in to shock, and she had never climbed a tree in her life. "I don't...I don't remember."

"Does she want me to kill you?" Acton said, stopping in front of her. "So that she has a reason to burn me?"

Ember was still shaking her head. She felt like Alice, fallen into Wonderland, but one where all of the rabbits were dead. She stopped, looking Acton in the eyes for the first time since he had tried to hypnotize her. "What are you, Acton? Are you a ghost? A monster?"

"I'm the only person willing to be your friend here," Acton spat. For the first time since she had met him, his slow, cool smile went all the way to his eyes, and it terrified her. "But that doesn't matter. You won't remember."

Chapter 9

As Ember wavered, standing over the toilet, she knew the nausea was coming again. It was the middle of the day, and she was exhausted. Days had become her nights, and for the last three, she had been too sick to even sleep. She couldn't remember what she had eaten to make her so sick, but doubtless, the alcohol was contributing to the situation.

It came up in clots. Sometimes, there was blood. Once, she thought that there was fur, and for one horrifying moment, she could have sworn that she had vomited up a small family of white mice.

Impossible, her brain had said, impossible, impossible...

And she flushed. There wasn't enough alcohol in the world for her to have done something like that. Her eyes were swollen and tired, and she was probably still drunk, anyways.

Sometimes, Gina would stand by the bathroom door and just watch her. She had stopped talking to her for the most part. Once, when Ember had coughed and screamed in horror at the red mess sliding back up her throat, Gina had rushed in and held her as they both sat on the cold tile floor.

Stroking her hair like she was a small child again, and using wads of toilet paper to clean her face, her voice had been incredibly steady. "It's not yours, baby, it's not your blood. Just get it all out, and you'll feel better."

Afterwards, she would crawl back to her room, and under a stack of blankets nearly as thick as her mattress. She could feel the sun beating down on her, through the roof, the boarded up window, and all of her blankets. It made her head throb, and the thought that the mice were inside her, scratching against her skull to get out, wouldn't let her sleep.

Even in fits and naps, the sleep always came, and as her headaches burned away into darkness, night always came. Sometimes, she was too sick to go out, but it only took time to heal. When she was sick, Gina would sit with her, and sometimes Thalia would stare at her from the open door, her eyes wide with wonder at the living corpse that her sister had become.

When Gina was cooking the meals, she would sneak in to see her sister, perching at the foot of the bed like a nervous sparrow.

"Ember?" she whispered, leaning over the mountain of blankets. "Are you awake?"

Her voice was barely loud enough to make it through all of the insulation. "Hm."

"Can I get you anything?" she asked. "Anything to make you feel better?"

Ember rolled on to her back, staring at the spider that had moved into her room sometime in the last week. He had built a web in the corner above her bed, and occasionally hung within the distance of her breath, dangling from a gossamer thread. She would press her lips close together and breathe out slowly, creating a little wind for the spider, and he would sail through the air with his legs twirling like a ballerina.

Spiders kept the nightmares away, and she was appreciative for her little friend. When she looked at him, she felt peaceful; but when Thalia asked questions about what would make her happy again, it brought her thoughts crashing down again.

"Nothing," she would whisper back at her. "I don't need anything, Lia."

And Thalia would look at the floor and nod, and get up and leave. As night drew nearer, and the headache broke, Ember felt strong enough to be out of bed. She would go down to the kitchen, have a glass of water, heat up some soup, and then dress for the night. But on this night, when she went up to put her jeans on, she found a piece of paper tucked into her pocket.

She stared at it, scrawled in her own handwriting on what looked like an old bar napkin. She remembered being at the bar the night before, but couldn't say when this had happened.

You came back for your family.

He made you eat a rabbit.

Don't trust Acton Knox.

Chapter 10

Later that night, Ember stood in a dark corner at The Garden, staring around at all of the regulars. She remembered their faces, but she didn't know why. She didn't know many of them, but even standing alone and inconspicuous in a corner, they seemed to know her. She crossed her arms, watching as the eyes diverted away from her just as she looked over, the people whispering to each other and snickering nervously.

Once, it would have bothered her. Now, it annoyed her.

A half hour went by, and then another. When two hours had gone by, and Acton hadn't made an appearance, she went up to the bar. Zinnia Knox was there, as she usually was, wearing a metallic blue corset and peacock feathers in her hair. She smiled as Ember approached.

"Ember, sweetie! How nice to see you!" she said, her darkly colored lips spreading into a broad smile as she winked. "You're here alone tonight?"

"Acton," Ember replied with a frown. "Where is he?"

Zinny leaned on the bar to rest her chin on her hand, batting her eyes. "He's out with friends tonight, but you can hang around and help me, if you want."

Ember shook her head. "I need to find Acton. Something's going on."

Though her gaze remained fixed and her lips never budged from their smile, the mask fled from her eyes. "What do you mean, Em?"

Getting up close to the bar, and leaning in to lower her voice, she watched Zinny's face as she spoke. "Did Acton make me eat a rabbit?"

Zinny's smile sank like melting wax. As she slowly stepped back from Ember, her feet crunching on the peanut shells on the floor behind the bar, her expression transformed into a dark-eyed snarl.

"My son would never," she said in a low, deadly tone. "He's the best thing that's ever happened to you. You should be grateful."

"Where is he?" Ember demanded.

Zinny crossed her arms. "Have a seat."

Pursing her lips, Ember crossed her arms to match Zinny's stance. She continued to stand.

"Sit down," Zinny said, this time more forcefully. "And I'll go find him for you. Don't make me call your mother, Em—I'll do it. And I'll tell her everything that you've been doing here."

Ember scoffed. "I'm a lost cause. She won't care."

Zinny slammed her palm down on the bar, making everyone sitting down the way jump and look over. "She'll care about what I have to say, Ember Gillespie, because Acton would never do that thing you said. If you ate a rabbit, it was of your own volition, and your mother will know it. Now, sit down!"

Ember swallowed, knowing that Gina wouldn't bother herself to come and retrieve her. However, the warning stood as a stark reminder of exactly how alone she was, and she sat. As Zinny stalked off, fidgeting with her hair in annoyance as she went, a cold chill ran down Ember's spine.

"My, my..." Asher said, sliding in to the seat next to her. "You're a clever girl. Who told you about the rabbit?"

"I did," Ember snapped, shifting uneasily.

Asher had composed himself to face her, leaning on the bar and letting his knees rest wide. He grinned when she finally looked over.

"You didn't win," he shook his head. "So you couldn't possibly remember. If you assuage my curiosity now, I might decide to return the favor and keep Kaylee from fishing it out of your head later. Who's the traitor?"

When Ember turned back, staring across the bar with determination, Asher stood and launched himself over the bar like a skilled gymnast. He put a beer in front of her as she glared at him.

"Come on, what's got you down today, little birdie?" Asher said, resting his elbows on the bar. "You're usually so happy to see me."

Ember eyed the beer suspiciously. He stood in front of her, refusing to move as he pouted at her, until she finally relented.

"How drunk was I when I ate it?"

Asher's mouth dropped open a half-inch, but then he laughed, picking up the beer and taking a gulp. "You don't remember a damn thing."

"Which means you must have cheated."

The sound of his voice so close behind her made Ember jump. She spun around on her seat, her eyes going wide, and nearly falling down as she tried to find the floor with her feet. Acton was standing so close that there wasn't enough room, and she had to slip back onto the bar seat when she had only gotten halfway off.

"You're getting annoying, Ember," he said crossing his arms and frowning. Ember heard Asher's feet land next to her as he vaulted back over the bar.

"You made me eat a rabbit," she accused.

Acton looked at her for a moment; then, he shrugged it off.

"I didn't," he said lightly. "You can believe me or not. You ate a rabbit because Isaac wanted to give you a present, and you didn't want to insult him. I warned you he didn't cook it long enough."

"I can't trust you," Ember pressed. "There was fur. I want to know what's going on, and—"

Acton took a half step forward, closing what little distance was between them, and laying his hands on her shoulders. His lips twitched in amusement. "Em, this is the third time. I'm afraid I have to demand to know how you're doing this."

"Are you going to have Kaylee fish it out of my head?" she spat back at him.

Asher held up a finger. "That one, I gave her."

Acton took his hands back, crossing his arms across his chest as he paced for a moment. He turned back to Ember, and smiled as her eyes continued to drive into him.

"I'll tell you what..." he said finally. "You apparently like games, and you have a strong desire to prove yourself. Let's play a game, Em. If I win, you'll tell me how you did it this time."

"If I win, I want to know how you did it," she shook her head. "I want to know why you made me eat the rabbit, and what the hell is going on around here."

Acton smiled. "I can accept those terms."

Asher was already walking towards the door. When Acton held out his hand to her, Ember could only stare at him with incredulity. She got down from her bar stool and sullenly followed Asher out of the bar. Acton walked behind her, never more than two steps behind, but so quiet that Ember found herself constantly turning to see if he was still there. He always was.

Once they had left the bar, and walked to the end of Main and into the forest, Acton started talking. His voice was calm and conversational, and Ember was surprised to find nothing but a determined confidence in her mind.

"So tell me," Acton began, taking a few steps to bring them even with each other. "Why are you walking in the forest with two people you think are doing you harm? You're smarter than that."

Ember shook her head. "You won't kill me. You would have done it already. I've been stone cold drunk too many times. You've had too many opportunities."

Ember heard him breathe a smile, and looked over just in time to see him shaking his head.

"I can count the number of times you've been drunk on one hand, Em. The opportunities have been far fewer than you think."

"It's my mom, then," Ember said. "You're afraid of her. You won't hurt me because of her."

When Acton didn't respond for a long while, she took her eyes off the ground to look at him again. His hand shot out to grab the back of her shirt and jacket just as she stepped into a sudden dip in the ground and lost her footing. He hadn't even looked before doing it, and he held her suspended until she found her footing again.

"Keep your eyes down. There's a lot to trip you out here, and as you've kindly noted, I don't get my deposit back if I return you damaged." He looked slightly displeased with the prospect. "Ember, I've never believed in souls, but if I were to make the argument, it would be you. Your mind is a blank slate, but your soul...it knows. You were an innocent thing when we met, but even now, you know you're not that person anymore. You don't remember why, but you know that it's true."

Ember shook her head slowly, trying to count the number of times she had been out drinking and gone home sick, and lost count. It was far higher than five. "Was it drugs, then? Did you rufi me?"

"See—" Acton suddenly threw his hands up. "That term. Rufi. Where did you learn that? It wasn't back at school."

"Around..." Ember shrugged. She had probably heard it from Asher, or maybe Isaac. She was almost sure it was Asher, though.

They walked on for another ten minutes. Acton stayed at her side, although he didn't speak again. Asher and Acton stopped at the same time, and Ember stopped with them, staring at Acton expectantly. Nervousness suddenly rose in her chest when she realized that the time had come for whatever was about to happen. A polite smile came to Acton's lips as he looked to Asher.

"Ash, please excuse us," he said. "Find Kaylee, Isaac—"

"Joseph, beach, yeah, I know," Asher finished for him, looking at Ember with disappointment before disappearing into the dark.

When he was gone, the silence that surrounded them was so oppressive that Ember could hardly think. There weren't any crickets or animals making noise, and they were too far from the ocean to hear the waves. Ember couldn't even hear her heartbeat, but she could feel it, and tried to take comfort in the slow, steady rhythm.

Acton had turned his head at an odd angle, and after several minutes, Ember realized that he was listening to something. However, even as she strained, she couldn't figure out what it was; the night was dead to her.

His eyes flashed when he finally looked back to her. Flashed—like a deer's eyes in the headlights.

"Ember, why would you come back out here after I made you eat a rabbit?" he demanded, shaking his head. "By your own word, you shouldn't trust me, and you came back for your family."

Ember's jaw fell open. She had told him about the rabbit, but the only way for him to know the part about her family was if he had read the note. "You knew I had it all along."

"I made you write it," he said, frowning. "People have begun to question my sanity for the amount of time I've spent with you, novelty though you are."

"Why would you make me write that?" Ember felt her nerves suddenly turn to panic, and clenched her fists, trying to hold on to reality. The edge she had thought she had on Acton was gone.

He chose a large stump a few feet away, and sat. "I don't answer your questions, Em. That's not how the game works."

"Unless I win," Ember mumbled.

Acton pointed at her as he smiled again, although he didn't seem happy. "See? That's what I mean about the memories of your soul. You don't remember, but somehow, you know." He sighed. "What should we do tonight? Do you want to drink? Climb trees? Run? Or maybe you want to choke down more road kill for Isaac's sake?"

Ember shook her head. "Checkers?"

"Boring." Acton waved his hand and stood to walk around her in a slow circle. "Cold water. Let's go down to the waves—"

"No!" Ember said suddenly, falling to the ground and hugging it as though it might save her. As her heart raced, she didn't know what she was afraid of, but she knew that the beach was a bad thing.

Acton only squatted down next to her, gently prying her hands from the roots and turf they clung to. "Not that beach...a different one."

Ember felt tears streaming from her eyes, but blinked them away as she turned to look at him, and the world went soft around the edges. She shut them immediately.

Acton's voice was annoyed. "Fine. You've said before you don't like it, but you'd better make it quick. You owe me a game."

Ember nodded. Deep down, she remembered that Acton had a sort of gift that she didn't understand for controling people. She also knew that his patience only extended so far, and when he got bored, the games were trickier.

But also knew that she didn't have a mark on her. If they really had been doing this night after night, whatever he had in mind couldn't be too bad.

She pulled herself to her feet, continuing to nod nervously. The world remained cold and dark around them, and he nodded back, offering his arm before leading her off.
Chapter 11

When they got to the water's edge, Acton explained what he wanted her to do.

"You will start out at the edge, and I will ask you questions. For every question I ask, you're going to go a step further out."

Ember swallowed, and hoped she looked worthy of his pity as she stared over at him. "I'm going to freeze to death."

"I won't let that happen," Acton said with certainty. "I'm sure it won't be pleasant for you, but that's the game."

"What kind of a game is that?" she asked.

Acton tilted his head. "I tried to explain it to you once, but you didn't get it. However, you were less sober then than now, so let's try again. Pain is like food to people like me."

"You're a psychopath."

"Probably," he said. "But that's not what I mean."

"I don't trust you."

"You shouldn't." Acton laughed. "But that's the game. It's the water, or else I'm sure Isaac would like to watch you skin a few more rabbits. Take your pick."

Seeing that he was serious, Ember sighed in desperation. "Fine. But I get to ask you a question for everything you ask me."

"If you win, I'll answer as many questions as you want until dawn."

"How do I win?"

Acton brought his hand to his chin, considering. The sound of the ocean was calm, steady, and peaceful, but it sent shivers down Ember's spine. The slight breeze over the shore wasn't helping. "When it's over your head, you win."

"Hips." Ember said quickly.

Acton didn't blink. "Chin. And, I want good answers, with details. No short answers—the whole story, or the answer doesn't count."

Ember considered for a moment, walking to the water, and bending down to dip in her hand. She yanked it back out. The water was frigid. She turned back to Acton, frowning.

"No one could go in there!" she said, crossing her arms. "That'll kill me, Acton. No."

Acton looked at her, unimpressed, and then at the water. "Get in the water, Em."

Nonplussed, Ember took a few steps away from him. "Or what? You won't make me. Deposit, and all that..."

She laughed nervously; Acton's frown deepened, and he shook his head.

"We've been over this before, too," he said slowly, as though he were talking to a child. "It won't kill you, because you're not human. If you remember any of this, then you can ask your mother about it. It won't be pleasant, but it won't be deadly, and I know how much you want to be a part of something. A family. That's all you've ever wanted, and I am offering it to you for a very low price. If you don't want it, then I'll have to take you home, and I'll erase your memory, and you'll stay there. You won't come out again. You'll just be a sad little girl whose mother doesn't love her, and you'll go back to school, and grow up and live under the weight of all the issues your childhood has caused and die alone. Is that what you would prefer?"

Ember stared at him for a long moment, waiting for him to blink, or laugh, but he didn't. He just stared back at her, too serious, and it left her with a bitter taste in her mouth. But even as he stared back at her, there wasn't any judgment or hint that he was trying to threaten her. He was being honest, and somehow, it turned her stomach to think that he might actually have a way to know. She didn't want to die alone.

She took a deep breath, nodding, and knew it was entirely in her hands. Acton had a way of making it easy to see what her life was, and until recently, it hadn't been hers. She was making her decisions for herself now.

It was terrifying, and exhilarating.

"If you walk in to that water right now," he said quietly. "I'll keep you, because I do like you. If you can keep up with me, I'll take you with me every night."

"You're not my friend," she said sternly.

"No," he conceded. "But I can be something, and that's more than your family will ever be to you. You're nothing to them, and it's only a matter of time before you return the sentiment. You never know—perhaps we will be friends someday. Perhaps we'll be more."

She shook her head slightly. Acton shifted his feet, smiling genially.

"It would be a shame for you to die alone, Em. I don't want that to happen to you."

She took a deep breath, cursing lightly as she used the toe of one shoe to hold down the heel of the other, slipping out her feet. She took her jacket off, and then her sweater, and was starting to unbutton her pants when Acton held up his hand.

"No need. I've got a change for you afterwards."

Sighing, Ember turned to the water, and then turned back to face Acton with her heels at the tideline. She took a step back, and felt her socks soak through at the soles before a wave caught her up to her ankles. She gasped, and Acton laughed.

"And so it begins," he said, crossing his arms. "If you had to kill someone, how would you do it?"

Ember's face contorted with distaste. She tried lifting one foot, and then the other, but it didn't do anything for the pins and needles. Her feet were throbbing. "What kind of a question is that?"

"A fair one," Acton replied. "How would you do it?"

"A knife," Ember said, shaking her head. "Ease of availability."

"Step."

Ember took another step back, and the water rose up to her calves. This time when she winced, it was because the water felt like tiny teeth.

"What's the worst lie you've ever told?"

Ember stared down at her legs, shaking her head. She wasn't a liar, and her knees were aching like someone had taken a sledgehammer to them. "I don't know."

"Not good enough," Acton said. "Think about it. But, I suggest you think quickly."

"I don't...I...I told a friend that I was an orphan, once, when I was little. I was embarrassed that I didn't get letters from my parents like she did."

"That's hardly a lie," Acton snorted. "Step. Why aren't you afraid of spiders?"

Even as the water hit her thighs and sent ice shooting up her core, she felt her head snap up to meet Acton's eyes. "How do you know I'm not afraid of spiders?"

"You told me once," he replied.

"I had a roommate who liked them." Her teeth were starting to chatter, and she clenched her jaw when she wasn't talking to keep from biting her tongue.

"So?"

"So?" she spat out quickly. "They're just an animal, like any other animal."

"The skittering legs don't bother you? The way they capture and kill weaker bugs?"

Ember shook her head, and took another two steps back. Acton was about to protest, but instead he laughed and wagged a finger at her.

"Clever." He squatted down on the shore so that he was closer to her height; the water was at her hips. "Have you ever tried to kill yourself?"

"No," Ember said, but when she spoke, her teeth slammed back together in a shiver so hard that she bit her tongue, and she had to bring her hands to her face to control her jaw. "N...no...not until...t...tonight."

She stepped back. Acton grinned as her stomach disappeared.

"Do you want to?"

Ember felt warm tears streaming from her eyes. She couldn't feel her legs anymore. If she couldn't walk, the game was over. Her tongue was bleeding, and Acton had purposefully asked a complicated question.

"Sometimes."

"Not good enough. Like when?"

"When...s...s...sad."

She took a step back. Acton didn't seem satisfied with her answer, but he let it go. The water was at Ember's shoulders, and she was shaking so hard that he was impressed she hadn't passed out. The first time, when Asher had shoved her into the water in jest, he had been sure she was a goner. People didn't often survive in the water for long, but Ember wasn't a person. She was a hunter's whelp, and apparently made of stronger stock.

This would be his last question.

"What's the cruelest thing you can imagine?"

Ember's brain had gone numb, like the rest of her, and she found herself looking up, hoping for something, anything, to come to her. The water had stopped feeling cold. Now, it burned. And as she looked up at a million stars, the image of a dead mouse appeared to her. The school cook had set traps in the kitchen—traps of every variety, to catch a sudden spree of bold mice. One of them had been caught right in the middle, and Ember had walked into the pantry one day to see the poor thing, crushed at the waist, his back half useless as his front legs worked furiously to escape.

The image had haunted her for months, and she had begged the school to use only no-kill traps after that point. The school had conceded, and the cook set out the traps. More than a year later, when the mouse problem was long over with, Ember had been helping to clean out dust bunnies from under the refrigerator when they found a trap that they had forgotten. There was dust and gunk a centimeter thick on top of it, but it was still good, so Ember wiped it off.

Inside, there was a mouse, curled up into a corner. His eyes were gone—long ago having shrunken back into his skull, and the fur was just starting to fall off of his tiny, starved body. The peanut butter they had used to set the trap was gone, and replaced by the mounds of dried mouse poop. The mouse had died, forgotten, emaciated, and thirsty, in his own waste.

She had spent hours wondering what the mouse thought about in the final days, if mice thought. Was there a warm, safe place somewhere in the wall insulation that he missed and wanted to get back to? Did he wonder how or why he couldn't? Did the other mice come to the trap and stare in at him, incapable of doing anything but watching him die a slow, lonely death?

Ember had cried for a week.

She looked back to Acton, her jaw snapping furiously, and when their eyes met, she knew he was listening. "D—d—d—dying, in a t—t—t—trap."

Acton's smile turned into a frown, and she saw him look at the ground as he stood. She slipped as she went to take her final step, but somehow, he was carrying her out of the water. His jaw was clenched and his eyes were sullen.

"Wh—wh—what?" she managed.

"Nothing," Acton said quietly. "I agree with you."

Chapter 12

When he set her down on the ground, the air felt warm. Even the ground felt warm, and she knew she was in trouble if the cold night air felt tepid against her skin.

"Am I going t—t—t—to d—d—d—die..." she asked. Her memory had gone bleary on her again, but the water had evidently sobered her up. "Wh—wh—what—happ—happ—happened?"

"You fell in the water," Acton said gently.

The game was done, and despite what others had said of him, his cruelty did know bounds. There was no reason for Ember to have to remember the torment. Joseph's trick had seen to it that they were friends again, and Acton refused to admit that it was anything more than necessary.

"Here. Put these on."

He threw a plastic bag at her. It had a large, warm, dry sweat suit in it. Ember was shaking so hard that all she could do was curl into a fetal position on the blessedly warm ground.

"Your body temperature is dropping, Em."

Ember rolled onto her back, trying to let the heat of the ground soak into as much of her as possible, and for the first time, realized that Acton was soaked from head to toe. He had taken off his jacket and his shoes before going in after her, somehow, and was now perched on a large rock several feet away. His hair was dripping and his shirt was sticking to him, but he didn't seem to notice. He just stared at her, unblinking, as she laid on the ground like a drowned rat.

When Ember finally managed to sit up, and found her hands shaking too hard to be of any use, he slid down from his rock and helped her. Staring at her useless hands, she wondered at the fact that she could still control them at all.

"Aren't...you...fr—fr—freezing?" she managed as he pulled her shirt over her head. It was full overcast that night, and there were no stars. He wrung her hair out with his hands before grabbing the sweatshirt and yanking it over her head, going about every step of it with the procedural ambivalence of making a sandwich.

Ember undid the button and zipper on her jeans, and laid flat on the ground as Acton pulled at the cuffs to get them off.

"You're not the brightest, Em," he mumbled, struggling to unhook the fabric from her ankle as her foot flopped numb and uncontrolled. "Most people fight for their lives. You walk into life threatening situations like it's your job."

"Oh, for goodness sake, it was an accident. I just fell in on accident," she said, gritting her teeth to keep them from clapping on her tongue again, and curling her bleeding hand around the edge of her sleeve. "At least, I think it was..."

"You bet Asher that you could walk into the water up to your neck. You don't remember?" Acton snorted, throwing the sweatpants at her. "I think you can manage the rest."

She shakily pulled them on, and he returned to his perch on the rock. She eyed him cautiously. "And you let me? I must have been drunk."

"I'm not your keeper," he said. "I'm just the guy who has to keep fixing you up after you do dumb stuff that could kill you."

Ember scoffed, glad to be warm, and ignored his quip. "Do I have nerve damage, or is it actually warm out?"

Acton went back to staring out toward the water, shifting his bare feet on the rock; he looked like a vulture. "There's a spring nearby. It's the only place out here where you can keep warm outside at night."

Ember nodded, looking back to the stars. So many, and they made her feel so small. "You're kind of a jerk. Why aren't you cold? I'm freezing."

"And you're kind of suicidal," Acton replied. "And attention hungry, and desperate, and annoying. And under the right conditions, dangerously flirtatious with the wrong people. I'm not cold because I'm not a weakling like you."

"Liar," Ember retorted. As his words sank in, she shrugged. "About me being a flirt, at least. Why are you so mean tonight?"

"I have been nothing but tolerant of you since your arrival," Acton snapped. But when he looked over at her, his expression softened. "I suppose that was uncalled for. I apologize, Em. Are you warm enough?"

"Will you sit with me?"

Acton climbed down from his rock, and walked over to compose himself in a lounging position next to where Ember was laying in the tall grass.

"Better?" he asked.

Ember shrugged. "You could lay down with me. I'm cold. I need the body warmth."

"I'm wet," Acton replied. "And you just got into dry clothes. I don't want to make you cold again."

"Oh. Right." She eyed him suspiciously. "...and you aren't cold? Really?"

"No," he said with a casual smile. "I never get cold."

"Never?" she said again, incredulous. "Well, thank god I have you. Thanks for pulling me out."

"Always," Acton said, stretching out next to her. "I don't know what I would do without you, Em. My nights would be boring."

Ember laughed, turning over to face him, and smiling as the warmth from the ground hit her cold side. "You're so full of it. I'm nothing special."

"You're actually quite engaging," Acton said. "You tell some great stories, you don't mind my eccentricities, and you have an amazing capacity for forgiveness. I'll miss you when you go back to Pennsylvania."

Ember cringed. "I wish I wasn't leaving."

Acton raised his eyebrows, nonplussed. "You should be happy. I would give just about anything to not be trapped here."

"Trapped?" Ember said. "Then just leave. You can go wherever you want."

Ember's eyes were fixed on the stars, so she didn't notice the fleeting expression of disappointment that crossed Acton's face. Somehow, every time after he pulled her from the water, the conversation circled back to this point. He had found it cathartic at first, but the more nights they had this same conversation, the more depressing it became.

He didn't know why he kept it up.

"It's not that simple."

"Because of your mom?" Ember pressed. "I like your mom. I like your brothers, too, and Kaylee. They're all so nice. You're lucky to have them. Acton, are you sure you're not cold?"

She reached over to touch him, and he let her. His skin was like ice. He laughed at her appalled expression.

"Acton, you need to get dry, you're going to freeze to death!"

He laughed as he grabbed her hand and held it to his cheek. His fingers were colder than the night air, sending a shiver up her spine. "Em, I'm not cold. I'm different. You don't remember?"

Ember quietly analyzed him, everything from his freezing skin to his intense eyes that never seemed to smile. She knew that Acton was different; he was exciting, and accepting, and kind. He had brought adventure into her life. "Different how? Don't you feel pain?"

"Everything feels pain," he retorted, laying back on the grass to stare at the stars with her. "I have talents. I can do things normal people don't do."

Confused, Ember rolled onto her side, once again trying to determine if he was pulling her leg. "Like what? Like walking into freezing water without going into shock?"

Acton only smiled. "Other things, too. I can control people, and make them do what I want."

"Prove it."

"Well, it doesn't work on you. It adds to the challenge," he teased.

"No proof, no truth," Ember said flatly. She hadn't really believed him to begin with, but she was slightly disappointed.

"I don't sleep."

Ember rolled her eyes. "Oh, yeah...because I'm totally going to buy that. You sleep during the days, like me."

"I'm not actually human, even."

"Uh huh. Sure," Ember said, yawning. "And I'm a sleeper agent planted by a foreign government, but I can't prove it to you because I haven't been triggered yet."

Acton rolled closer to her, onto his stomach, so that he could look down at her face. "You'll never believe me, even if I give you proof, will you?"

Ember stared up at him sarcastically. But as she watched his eyes, she noticed that they were reflecting light. One of her teachers back at school owned a Siamese cat whose eyes reflected red when they caught the light just right, and right then, Acton's eyes were doing the same thing.

Ember frowned. Human eyes didn't reflect light like that.

The hair on her arms stood up on end, but she wasn't cold anymore. At the same time, a broad smile had spread across Acton's face.

"So you believe me, then?" he asked. Ember nodded.

"What are you?" she asked.

"I'm your friend," he said, lying back down. "That's all you need to know."

Ember shook her head. She wasn't tired anymore. "Is that why my mom hates you? Why she's so afraid, and why she can't make you leave the island?"

Next to her, Acton was taking slow, steady breaths. The only other sound was the ocean, and nearby, the little trickle of the spring. He took his time in answering, and Ember was on pins and needles.

"Yes, that's why she hates us," he started. "But it's not that she can't make us leave. She kills the ones that do leave, Ember. We're prisoners here. She's a hunter, and she believes it's her place to keep us all in line. So we stay here, or she kills us."

Ember glanced over at Acton's unmoving form, and then gave him a long, hard look. "She's one woman. There's...well, you, and your mom, and your brothers, and..."

"Everyone," Acton finished for her. "Well, almost everyone on the island."

Ember shook her head. "So if there's so many of you, and one of her, then why do you let her do it?"

She stared at the moon, waiting for his reply; it was full that night, and casting a lot of light. Most of the stars were hidden; there had been two shooting stars so far, but no borealis.

"Acton?"

Acton's voice sounded irritated. Always the same conversation, night after night. "I stay because I choose to."

Ember's brow furrowed in confusion. "But earlier, I thought you said—"

"Let's not talk about it anymore," Acton said firmly. "Family is that important to you. You would stay here, even though it makes you miserable?"

Ember heaved a sigh, her thoughts racing as she thought about Gina, so strong and firm in her resolve. She was a prison warden. She mothered Thalia like a grizzly, and in turn, Thalia was as weak and helpless as a dove. Nan was only half there, and when she was lucid, the sharp edges of her unrestrained and rampant opinions weren't always easy to be around.

To Ember, none of them were easy to be around.

"They aren't my family," she said quietly. "Family is more than blood, but blood is all I have. I can't love them. Maybe that's why they can't love me."

Acton nodded, very slowly, listening to the sound of something digging at a stump several yards off. "Family is more than blood. That's true."

There was a long silence, and Ember's breathing had become so long and regular that Acton thought she might have fallen asleep.

"If it makes you so miserable, why do you stay?" she asked suddenly.

Acton closed his eyes, trying to think of something she would believe this time around. Every time he lied to her, and every time, she knew. "It's all mine, Ember. It belongs to me. Your mother has just temporarily usurped it."

Breathing slow, Ember's voice was beginning to sound tired. Soon, he was going to have to take her back to her mother's house. "That's sad."

"No worse than life without a family. Or life with one that doesn't want you, I suppose."

Ember let out a slow breath through her nose, shutting her eyes and squeezing out a tear. It was probably because she was so tired, but she was suddenly overwhelmed by the weight of the world. When she left the island, she would never see any of them again, because she knew this place would leave a gaping hole in her life that would never heal. She would never come back to see her mother, and no one would visit her over the holidays. There would be no more birthday cards, and she wouldn't ever have a sister to call over the phone for advice about boys or babies or fighting with her husband. She was going to go home with a cut up hand, and even with three other people in the house, no one would be there to be concerned for her hurt, or help her with the peroxide and the bandages.

And whenever she thought about how other people had those things, and she didn't, the memory of this one summer on Tulukaruk would hurt like a new, bleeding hole in her life.

"I should just kill myself. I don't want this life. I don't deserve this," Ember said absently. Tears suddenly started streaming down her face. "But the stars are just so pretty."

Acton sat up suddenly, looking at Ember with pain and a touch of anger in his eyes; he'd been a little heay handed with the hypnotism that night, and it made her overly emotional as often as not. He didn't understand why it bothered him.

It wouldn't do to grant her wish, but Gina was going to know about the water, and the cut on Ember's hand from where she had slipped on the rocks this time. She had sobbed like a little girl when she had tripped and cut it.

But as she cried at the sight of her blood on her hand, he had looked at her, so small and pathetic and alone in the world. Her past had been stolen, her future was going to be a string of bad memories and loneliness, and her only friend in the world wasn't her friend.

He knew what physically damaging Gina's daughter meant. Acton had been planning her death for weeks, and now that the night was finally here, he could only think that letting her live would be worse.

His time on the island was done now. Freedom, or nothing, awaited him tomorrow.

He had slowly lifted her chin so that he could look into her eyes, and lifted her injured hand. He knelt down before her, the way that Zinny had done to him when he was little. She said it was supposed to make the hurting stop. Those were the words that he repeated to Ember, hoping that she believed the act.

As she sniffed and wiped at her face with her good hand, he lowered his lips to kiss the cut, long and slow.

Zinny had warned him about hunter's blood. She said it was lethal to demons. One of only a very few poisons that were, and arguably the hardest to come by.

Ember laughed through her tears, pulling her hand back. "Acton, you shouldn't wish that you were dead. You're a good person, and a good friend."

He didn't remember when he had said that to her. He said a lot of things to test her emotional depth—that was all they were for, of course. He hadn't taken to sharing pieces of himself the way she shared herself.

Certainly not.

"It's me," she said, her voice quivering. "I'm a bad person. That's why no one loves me. I wish I was dead."

Acton coughed, licking the blood off of his lips and settling back onto the ground. He felt sick, but she was right. The stars were beautiful tonight.

When Ember awoke the next evening, and saw her little spider dangling above her bed in the organic dream catcher that he had carefully spun, it took her a moment to gather her thoughts. Her body ached everywhere, and she had the fleeting notion that cold water could do that to a person.

She got up out of the bed and started pacing, but her legs were too stiff. She went to the bathroom and filled the tub with hot water, stripping out of the sweat suit that Acton had given her. It was too big for her, and must have been one of his. She set it by the door and got into the bathtub, letting the heat soak through her as she planned her next move.

Not human. The words rang in her head, and she couldn't decide how she felt about it. She thought she had seen his eyes glow, like an animal's eyes, but that could have been a trick of the light. He had made her see things—lights, and beauty in the night and the forest—but that could have been anything from alcohol to something he had put in her drink.

Ember sank lower into the tub, dunking her head under to get the ocean smell out of her hair.

Acton had pulled her out of the freezing water, and it hadn't affected him at all. He had just hung out in the night, and the wind, in his soaking clothes, and he hadn't even looked cold—it should have put him into shock, at least.

That one was harder to explain away.

As Ember tried to puzzle it out, she washed her hair, and when the water in the tub was too cold, she stood up to shower off. When she got out and started to towel off, a different question crossed her mind.

Acton would be expecting her that night, and she wasn't sure if it was safe to go with him. But he was her friend, and he wanted her. Looking at her reflection in the mirror, she tried to smile. It was something to hope for, at least.

She wondered if she should dress up or wear something fit for hiking across the island. As she bandaged her injured palm, she hoped she hadn't ruined the sheets with blood. She should have wrapped it when she got home, but she didn't remember coming home. It was odd, because forgetting that one detail, she remembered more about the previous night than she did almost any other so far.

Butterflies erupted in her stomach when she thought of Acton's lips on her hand, and the sad look in his eyes as he had kissed her. She hadn't really thought of him as anything more than a friend, and now she wasn't sure what he thought of her.

As Ember quietly puzzled, walking back to her bedroom as she contemplated the thought that she might not die alone, she had no warning for what she was about to see.

The room was empty, and it stopped her in her tracks. Her suitcase was gone, and the clothes, and the bed sheets and blankets and pillows. Even the mattress was gone. Her drapes had been stripped from the window, and as Ember walked forward, frowning, she saw the blaze going in the backyard—a pillar of fire that stretched clear to the second story of the house. Tendrils of red and orange curling into the darkening night as sparks drifted like deadly fireflies from every hot wisp.

And down in the yard, pitching in one item after another was Gina, working in a frenzy to empty Ember's suitcase into the blaze before throwing in the bag itself. She hurled in the bedclothes, and finally, a small, bundled wad that looked uncannily like Acton's sweat suit.

Ember stood slack-jawed, now with nothing to wear but a towel as she watched the rest of her things burn up. Gina raised her hands to grab at her hair before lowering her clenched fists to her sides, screaming into the fireball in front of her.
Chapter 13

As Ember stood looking out the window, unsure about what would come next, she heard soft footsteps behind her. She turned to see Thalia next to her, looking out at her mother pacing around the fire with regret.

"She said it was the smell," Thalia said finally. "She could smell them on everything, and she couldn't take it anymore. Not inside the house."

Ember was almost speechless. Thalia was so calm about it. "Is she crazy?"

"She...well, no." Thalia's face had distorted in concentration. "She's just protecting us, from all of the bad people on the island."

"Who?" Ember asked.

Thalia shook her head, looking at the floor. "Everyone. Come on, I'll get you some clothes."

Ember followed Thalia to her room, and was shocked to realize that Thalia didn't have a room of her own after all. There were two beds, identically made with blue quilts, that shared a wide nightstand between them. The walls were covered with an old floral pattern wallpaper, and the lampshade on the light between the beds was so old that it had turned from white to yellow in spots.

"You sleep with Nan?" Ember asked incredulously.

"Nan has her own room," Thalia explained, walking over to a wardrobe that was wedged between the wall and the foot of one of the beds. "I sleep with mom." When she turned around and saw the look of horrified bewilderment on Ember's face, she smiled politely. "I like it that way. It makes me feel safe, and she likes to keep me close. I hope these fit you——they fit me and mom. You just have to roll the waist up, and the sleeves and the cuffs sometimes, and make sure your belt is tight enough."

Ember looked down at the pants and shirt that Thalia had handed her, and her sister shyly excused herself from the room so that Ember could dress. Ember shook her head in disbelief as she laid out the pants and shirt. They were both made from simple cotton. The green shirt had buttons down the front, but the pants operated by a simple drawstring. As Thalia had indicated, they both fit marginally well once they had been rolled up in the right places, but she wasn't about to borrow the underthings of her crazy mother or frail sister—that would cross a line to intimacy that didn't exist.

However, she did look through the drawers, one by one, until she located a small metal box on one side of the nightstand that had a wad of money in it. Ember could only assume that her cash was gone, and she was going to need to replace a few things. Her mother's habit so far had been to take her keep out of her trust fund, so she couldn't see why taking some money would be any different. Fair was fair—Gina had taken her money away, and she was going to take it back.

But as she took the money out of the little box, and quickly counted out more than five thousand dollars, she knew she wasn't going to steal it.

She set it back in the box and closed the lid, staring mournfully at her chance to buy underwear and shoes. Makeup, books, and jeans; Gina had taken it all. But as Ember stared longingly into the nightstand drawer, she saw something else, pushed to the very back behind a little tray of pens and notepads, and next to a little bag of potpourri.

It was a stack of all of the letters that Ember had sent over the years. She picked them up, thumbing through them absently, and hardly believing that anyone had bothered to keep them all. Gina didn't seem like the sentimental sort. Some of them were years old—large letters drawn in crayon on the back of childish drawings, but even from a young age, Ember had impeccable spelling. She sighed, going to put the letters back, but noticed that they had been sitting on top of a stack of photographs in the drawer.

She slowly pulled out each one of her school photos, one for each year that she had been away, ending with the photo she had sent with her last letter. The letter she had sent to her mother to say that she was unhappy at school, and that she wanted to come home.

"Ember?"

Ember looked up sharply to see Thalia's face poking out from behind the door.

"Oh..." she said, sliding into the room and shutting the door behind her. She sat on the opposite bed to face her sister as Ember put the photos back under the stack of her letters and snapped the drawer shut. "Mom wanted to get rid of those, but I asked if I could have them. I wanted to know what you looked like. I guess I could have just looked in the mirror."

Thalia laughed nervously. Ember only frowned.

"Am I going to have to sleep in here with you, and her?" she asked.

Thalia matched her frown, and quickly looked down again. "No, mom doesn't want you getting attached. She said you could have Nan's bed."

"I don't think getting attached will be a problem for me anymore, but thanks for clearing that up." As Ember stood up to look out the window at the bonfire still burning in the backyard, Thalia smiled brightly. "I'm sleeping with Nan?"

"No, just in her bed."

"Where'd she go?" Ember asked, turning back.

Thalia's face grew long and dark as she stared hard at the floor. "They had an argument about you, and Nan left. I don't know when she's coming back, but mom said you could sleep in her bed. But just shower before you get in it, or she might have to burn that one, too."

Ember pressed her hands together, bringing them to her lips. As Thalia sat on the edge of the bed, with her hair pulled back in a ribbon and wearing a simple yellow plaid dress, Ember couldn't help but think that she was naïve to a dangerous extent. She was supposed to be the older sister, but she acted like she was ten, and even living with a maniac like Gina, she was still innocent.

"Thalia," Ember said, sitting down next to her. "Earlier, you said that mom is trying to protect us from the bad people, and that the bad people are everyone on the island. What makes them bad?"

Thalia frowned, shifting and making the mattress bounce nervously beneath them both. She paced to the window and looked out, and then came back to sit by Ember.

"Mom told me not to tell you, but I hate it when you go out," she said in a whisper. "They're demons, Ember."

Ember thought she had steeled herself against anything her sister could have said, and any idea that Gina could have planted in her head. Even so, she felt her eyes go wide. "Demons? As in, fire and brimstone and Satan, demons?"

Thalia nodded solemnly. "But these demons don't like fire and brimstone. They're cold, and they hurt people—"

The door opened, and both girls jumped. Gina stood in the doorway, covered in a fine layer of ash and dust, smelling of smoke, and wearing an impassive expression. "Lia, go downstairs. I need to speak with Ember."

Thalia rushed from the room with her head down. Ember met her mother's stare head on, and refused to blink.

"I am sorry that I had to burn all of your things, Ember." Gina shut the door, and started to unbutton her ash-covered shirt, sweeping sweat off her brow and back through her frizzy hair. "I don't know what came over me. I seem to get this way when you're around. I think it would be best if you left now, so I've arranged for you to take a boat back to mainland tomorrow. You're out of clothes anyways, so it will be better for you to get back—"

"I know what they are," Ember said quietly.

Pausing, Gina took a deep breath. She stared at the wall above the hamper as she gently dropped her shirt in. "Excuse me?"

"Acton," Ember said quietly. "I know that he's not normal."

Gina spun around, crossing her arms over her white cotton undershirt. "Ember..."

"They're not evil," Ember said quietly. "And they're certainly not demons."

Gina pressed her lips together, exhaling slowly and diverting her gaze. Ember waited patiently.

"I don't know what Acton has been telling you." Gina said quickly. "And you couldn't possibly remember, because he's been—"

"Not anymore," Ember said quietly. "I remember last night just fine. I didn't get drunk last night."

"You remember what he wants you to remember!" Gina said with a sudden flare of anger. "Ember, he is using you to get to me, and he is succeeding. I need you to leave now."

"He's the best friend I've ever had!" Ember shouted back.

Shaking, Gina walked over to her, clenching her fists to reduce the urge to grab Ember by the shoulders. "You have come home freezing. You have come home sick. You have had alcohol poisoning, and bruises, and burns—"

"And I remember none of that!" Ember said, standing and walking to the door. Gina grabbed her hand, turning it over to reveal the bandaged cut. Ember rolled her eyes. "I fell last night. It was an accident."

Gina pressed her lips together and shook her head, very slightly. "This cut is more than a week old, Ember. If you don't believe me, look at where it's started to scar around the edges. He makes you do awful things. Things I won't even tell you—"

"You are paranoid," Ember said with finality, pulling her hand away. "And if you really thought he was doing those things, then why would you let me go out? Why wouldn't you stop me? Why wouldn't you stop him?"

The look in Gina's eyes burned—burned, like the fire was inside of her, just beneath the surface—and her lip curled in disgust at the same time it started to tremble. "Because I wanted this to end cleanly, and I didn't want anyone to get hurt, but you seem to be in league with them now. So you go, Ember—go be with your friends. It will all be over soon enough."

Despite the hot tension boiling beneath Gina's skin, an unusual calm had come over Ember. She dropped her hands to her sides. "What does that mean?"

"Nothing," Gina said, taking a deep breath and shaking her head. She turned toward the window, dressed with limp, hand-sewn drapes that reminded Ember too much of the shirt and pants she was wearing. "Go—I want you to go. I can't think straight when you're here. You're throwing your life away. The life I gave you."

Ember had her hand on the doorknob at her back, clutching it like was a weapon that could save her. Gina only seemed interested in getting out of her sooty clothes and into the shower as quickly as possible, so Ember went downstairs, borrowed a pair of Thalia's shoes, and walked out the door.

She went into the backyard and jumped up on the wall to sit and watch her bedroom finish smoldering. As she sat up on the wall, Acton was suddenly standing next to her on the ground outside the yard. He crossed his arms to lean in, watching the fire.

"That's a new look for you," he said finally.

Ember nodded. "She burned all of my stuff."

"I know," Acton replied. "I watched. So why are you so upset?"

"There was a spider in my room. Above my bed, and I think he might have fallen in when she took the sheets and stuff out and burned it." Ember said, staring at the charred mess in front of them, still spewing flames from the red hot spots. "I feel like I should have put him out the window sooner."

Acton stared at her for a moment, considering, and then raised his eyebrows as he went back to watching the fire burn itself out.

"Are you going to hurt me?" Ember asked. When he didn't respond, she looked over to see him giving her the same sidelong look. "It's just...Thalia thinks...well, she said—"

"Demons?" Acton offered for her. "Ember, if I were going to kill you, I would have done it already."

Ember bit her lip, shaking her head. "Why haven't you?"

Acton sighed, turning his back on the fire to lean against the wall. "I had a realization. You're not one of them. You're one of us. Come on—" He offered his hand to help her off the wall, "I'll take you to town, and we'll replace the things you've lost."

She swung her legs over the wall, and took his hand as she slid off. "I don't have any money."

"You have half the damn island in cash, as I understand it." Acton said, laying his hand on her back to guide her into the woods.

"No, I mean, I don't have any on me," she said, looking up at him.

Acton nodded, slightly irritated that she would make him clarify the point. "I'll pay for everything, Em. Stop worrying about it."

She stopped, her hands fidgeting with the front of her shirt. Sighing, Acton turned to face her.

"A demon?" she said finally.

Acton turned his head slightly to the side as he thought. She didn't seem afraid of him. "I've been this way my whole life. It's just who I am, but your mother calls me a demon. Is that what you think of me as well?"

She thought for a moment. Acton waited patiently.

"No."

"No." His lips twitched at a smile. "Then let's get to town. You look like Thalia wearing those things."

Ember pursed her lips and nodded. When he settled his hand on her back as they went, she walked a little closer to him. The forest was quiet the entire way to town.

When Acton stopped on the street, she wasn't sure exactly where they were going until he opened the door for her. She took a step back to look at the sign, and realized that there wasn't one.

"This is Bateman's," Acton said. "He's the only grocer on the island. He supplies gas for the tractors, collects and delivers mail, and sells general goods."

Ember stepped through the door and into a dimly lit store. It looked like a cross between an army surplus and a road trip gas station; there were three small aisles of food, toiletries and hygiene products along one wall, basics clothes, pillows and blankets in a corner, paper goods, a wide selection of tools and repair supplies.

At the far end of the store, there was an old man sitting at the counter, a newspaper open in front of him. He folded one corner down as he glared at the two of them.

Acton whispered under his breath. "Also, he doesn't like me."

"Get out of my store!" The old man growled. Then, his eyes flicked to Ember, and he set the paper down on the counter as he stood up. "Thalia, is something wrong?"

"Wrong daughter, Charles," Acton said, taking a few steps forward to put himself between Ember and the shopkeeper. "This is Ember. Gina just burned everything she has, so I brought her here to pick up anything she might need."

Charles the shopkeeper stared him down. "Your money's no good—she doesn't need anything you want to give her. I'll give her what she needs, but it's a gift for her, not a favor for you. You can wait outside."

"I'll wait by the door," Acton said with a polite smile and malice in his eyes. He turned and strode confidently back to the shop entrance, where he shooed Ember forward like she was a shy child, and then stood with his arms crossed, staring down Charles. Charles was staring at Ember.

What ensued were the most awkward five minutes of her life. As Ember perused the aisles, picking up a hairbrush, deodorant, an all-weather jacket, a bag of socks, and a few other items, she tried to ignore the tense cable of antagonism that stretched across the room from Acton to Charles. When she was finished, she wasn't sure if she was supposed to just walk out the door with Acton, or say something to Charles first.

The former seemed rude, so she took her items to the counter. She smiled nervously as Charles folded the corner of his paper again, and was shocked to see nothing but kindness in his face.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

"You're very welcome," he said with a smile and a nod, removing his reading glasses. "I'll get you a bag for these things."

Ember's grateful smile suddenly faltered; she had forgotten to get a bag. "Oh—a bag, my travel bag, it was—"

Charles held up his hand. "Nope. No worrying now, let's go get a bag."

He walked her over to a wall with mostly camping supplies, and helped her pick out a large bag, which he then proceeded to fill with extra food, some magazines, hair ties, and a few other girly artifacts before going back for her collection at the counter.

"Now, you don't worry about any of this. I'm good friends with your mother, and I know she has hard days," he said, filling up the bag. "If you need anything else, don't hesitate to come back, young lady."

Ember nodded. "Thank you."

Charles picked up the bag to hand it Ember, catching her hand in his to stop her from escaping when she went to take it. He leaned in closer to her, ignoring Acton, who was still standing guard at the door.

"Ember, you need to take this bag and leave the island," he said sternly. "I'm very glad to have made your acquaintance, but you stay away from Acton Knox, and everyone else, and you leave with your dignity."

Ember tried to pull away, but Charles squeezed her hand gently. When she met his eyes, he nodded, just slightly, and let her go. He settled back into his chair behind the counter, and immediately put his newspaper wall back up.

Shouldering her bag, she turned and walked back to Acton. He took a step back to open the door for her exit, and followed her out with one last, long look at Charles.

Frowning, Ember wanted to ask Acton why no one trusted him, but within the first three steps out the door, Asher had already stolen the spotlight.

"Business with the Bait Man?" he asked, stepping up to Ember's other side. "Jesus, Em...you look like Thalia."

Ember heaved a sigh, glaring at him. "I'm dying my hair. Decision made."

"Oh, but why stop there?" he offered. "We could get you some tattoos, some piercings, some scars on the inside and out——"

"Ash," Acton said coolly. "Do you have a message for me, or any point that you're coming to?"

"Nope," Asher replied with a bright smile. "Just waiting for scraps."

Acton looked at him, annoyed, and kept walking. "I have nothing for you, Ash. Not after last night."

"—Oh." Asher frowned. "Right."

Ember felt her cheeks color, wondering if Acton had shared their private moments with his brothers. She supposed nothing very exciting had happened, but a kiss—even one on the palm of her hand—was the biggest thing that had ever happened to her.

"Do we have a plan for the evening, then?"

Acton cut in front of Ember so quickly that she nearly ran into him. As he paced back and forth on the walkway, she stopped and waited, shifting her bag from one shoulder to the other. Acton looked at her, hardly changing his expression as he took the bag from her, pushed it at Asher, seemed to think better of it, and finally shouldered it himself.

He looked at Asher. "Tell Kaylee to meet me at the bar. I need a favor from her."

Asher snorted. "Well, good luck with that."

Acton crossed his eyes as a forced laugh escaped his lips. Running a hand over his face, he fixed his stare on Asher. "Just go and find her."

Asher looked from Acton to Ember, letting his gaze linger slightly too long. Without a word, he turned and left.

Acton turned around and started walking again, taking Ember by surprise. She took a few quick steps to catch up with him.

"A favor?" she asked, trying to break the uncomfortable silence. "From Kaylee?"

"It's for you," Acton refused to look over at her. "You're going to need clothing."

"You think she'll let me borrow some?" Ember said, crossing her arms. A cold breeze came up, making her shiver; before she could even ask, Acton was unzipping the bag and pulling out the jacket that Charles had given her.

"She'll let you have some," Acton corrected. "She lives in a damn sorority house with a flock of girls who have ten times the clothes they need."

He quickened his step as they got closer to the bar, forcing her to stay a few strides behind him, and preventing her from asking any more questions. He took her through the back door, dropping her bag on the floor. She tried to follow him as he went to the door that led to the bar, but he raised his hand to stop her.

"Wait here."

Ember shrugged. "Why?"

He sighed. The crazed humor in his eyes made her take a step back and sit on a crate.

"Just wait."

As he opened the door to the bar, Ember looked out and saw Zinnia Knox, wearing a sunset orange sheath dress and a paisley pattern headscarf, standing with the phone pressed to her ear. As she looked over and their eyes met, she saw her draw in a sharp breath and look away, shaking her head. She covered the phone with one hand to say something to Acton as the door closed.

Ember looked at the back of the door. They were talking about her, and she was almost sure Zinny had her mother on the phone. As guilty as she felt about putting Acton out, she felt more annoyed that her mother knew where she was. Gina had gone years not knowing where she was or what she was doing, only to start caring at the most irritating moment. Ember wondered if Gina had called the bar or if Zinny had called her; both prospects made her want to grind her teeth.

She ran her fingers through her hair; she wanted to cut it and dye it that night if possible...anything to reduce the resemblance to Thalia. They weren't real sisters, and Ember was beginning to regret the reminder.

But of her immediate concerns, her mother's last words to her were falling highest on her list.

Go be with your friends. It will all be over soon enough.

It sounded like a threat. Ember wasn't quite sure who Gina was threatening, but she knew that she had finally lost it. She had burned everything, and she hated the Knoxes; even if they weren't normal, they were doing more to take care of her than Gina ever had. That alone meant they couldn't be that bad. Could they?

Chapter 14

As Ember's eyes explored the boxes, crates, and cleaning supplies in the back room, she noticed a small box up on a shelf that was overfilled with paperbacks. She turned over a mop bucket to stand on so that she could reach them, carefully taking down the box. She sat back down on her crate and started going through them, regretting that the little collection she had brought with her was lost and gone forever in the fire.

"You can keep them, if you want."

Ember looked up. Acton had returned. "These are yours?"

Acton nodded. "I've already read them. Take them."

Ember looked back at the books in her lap. They were older ones, by classic authors that she had heard of, but she hadn't read most of them. She sighed, running her hands down the side of the box. When she looked back up, Acton had tilted his head slightly, looking at her hand flat on the side of the cardboard.

"I don't think they'll be safe with me," Ember said with a frown.

"You can keep them where I live," Acton said, straightening up. He kept his voice low. "How is your hand?"

Ember had almost forgotten. She lifted her hand and inspected the bandage before turning her palm out to Acton. "It's fine. It's healing."

Acton nodded curtly. He held out his hand. "Come on, then. Let's go sit."

Ember set the books down next to her bag, took his hand, and forced a smile, unsure of what was waiting for her out in the bar.

When he opened the door, Zinny was blocking the way. Her glossy lips were forced into a pout as she looked Ember up and down. Then, she reached out and pulled Ember into a hug, grabbing Acton by the front of his shirt to pull him in as well.

"Zinny..." Acton said, his voice full of warning.

"She can't take the clothes back to Gina's," she said. As Ember struggled uncomfortably, Zinny's arms held her like a vice. "They smell like us, and she won't appreciate that. No hunter wants demon scent in their home."

"She's not going around dressing like Thalia," Acton responded tersely. "Besides, those clothes are going to smell like you now. She can't go home in those."

Zinny finally let Ember go, pushing her out to arm's length. She smiled gently. "I'll wash them for you before you go back. You can wear them out of the house and back, and change in the back room into something that's more...well, less Gina. And shower, right when you get home—that's important."

Ember's eyes had gone wide. "It's true? You're not human."

Zinny's smile never moved, but creases appeared around her eyes. For half a second, she looked decades older than the young, vibrant woman Ember had come to know. "Em, we're not bad people."

She let her hands drift from Ember's shoulders down to hold her hands. Her dark eyes smiled again as Ember's met them uncertainly. "Demons?"

Zinny nodded, looking at the floor for a moment. "Yes, that's what they call us."

"She's afraid of you."

A small laugh escaped Zinny's lips. "Your mother has never been afraid of me. Now, go sit down."

Zinny stepped away and back to the bar, bringing a hand up to wipe at her eyes even though she hadn't shed a single tear. Ember's eyes followed her away, and then snapped back to Acton. She smiled excitedly as Acton put a hand on her back and gestured to a table in a corner.

When Acton pulled out her chair for her, she could no longer contain herself. "They're friends, aren't they? My mom and your mom are friends—that's why she has to let you stay."

Acton pulled a chair over to sit close next to her. "No. But I've long speculated that it's the reason she has to let me live."

Ember shook her head. "But how does that happen? I mean, how did they get to be friends—she hates you all so much. And—" Ember paused, looking around the bar. "How many of you all are there?"

"'Friend' is a very strong word." Acton sat low in his seat, putting his arm around her shoulders. He put his free hand on the table, discreetly gesturing. "Almost everyone that lives here. That group is. So is that one. Most of that group, but not the married couple there—they're kayaking tourists from Vermont. Those over there are from the fish processing plant a few miles from the mainland town...none of them are, in that town. But almost everyone here is. Not Charles, he's the one exception that Gina has willingly allowed. She finds ways to get rid of the other humans."

Ember looked over at him. "Why not Charles?"

Acton pursed his lips, glancing at her, but then his eyes lit up. Ember looked over to see Kaylee walking up to the table. Asher was walking next to her, and Isaac was trailing her like a faithful shadow.

Acton removed his arm from Ember's shoulder's, composing himself in his seat. Kaylee stood across from him at the table.

Her smile looked like a sarcastic snarl. "Yes, your majesty?"

He kicked the chair opposite him away from the table, making Ember jump. "Have a seat."

Kaylee eyed the chair, but then her searing green eyes flashed to Ember, who suddenly felt the terror seep from her expression into her being. A slow smile spread across Kaylee's glossy pink lips as she turned the chair around to straddle it.

"She's not my size," she said with a sneer. "And I'll be damned if I give her anything—I may as well burn it myself."

Acton removed something from his jacket pocket, and set it on the table between them. He sat back and crossed his arms as Kaylee eyed the folded hunting knife. The sneer slipped from her lips, but the icy stare in her eyes remained.

Isaac took a step forward. "Acton..."

"Jessica is about her size," Acton said lightly. "Make it happen. She's not going around with me looking like this."

Kaylee had sunk away from the table, and her cool straddle looked awkward. She looked up at Isaac, and then back at Acton. She smiled again. "Acton suddenly wants to play dress up with his new doll. I wonder why...?"

Ember blinked, and then her chair slammed to the wall and clattered to the floor as she shot up out of it. The knife was open in Kaylee's hand, and there were fingers—human fingers—lying on the table where the knife had been. Ember looked from one to the next, counting each perfectly manicured digit as she went; one, two, three...

Thumb.

A thumb had dropped into the mess, and Ember felt dizzy. The fingers didn't look real, and she didn't know why. They were fingers, each one just lying there, no longer attached to Kaylee's hand as she slowly sliced them off. She dragged the blade neatly across the joint of her pinky finger, and plop, down it went, landing next to her index finger before bouncing and settling next to her thumb. The bar lights were reflecting off of the polished pink tips, mirrored again in the enamel table top. She went about the bloody business as though she were peeling a potato, dark globs of black blood oozing from each stump and a shocked look on her face.

Isaac scooped up the fingers with a look and a grunt of indignation, stuffing them into his pants pocket.

Asher had lifted his hand to cover his mouth, looking nearly as shocked as Kaylee as he tried to stifle a laugh. He had moved to block the scene from the rest of the room, but it was so dark, and Kaylee hadn't made a sound despite the screaming expression on her face. Her eyes were wide and horrified as she stared at her mangled hand. Small, choked gasps, almost too quiet to hear, escaped her throat.

No one knew what was going on. Only one of the tourists had looked over for a moment when Ember's chair had banged to the floor.

Isaac had finally found his voice. "You could have just made her get the clothes!"

"Cooperation is so much nicer than compliance, and Kaylee is going to cooperate." Acton said with a smirk. He turned back to Ember. Her face had gone pale; when he had said before that he could control people, she hadn't ever thought he meant he could make someone do something like that. "Em, you should sit down before you faint."

Isaac had Kaylee by the shoulders, hurrying her back toward the door.

"Ash, get a towel for this."

Asher walked off to the bar.

Acton looked back at Ember again, stopping just short of rolling his eyes. "I'm serious, Ember. Your face is pale, and you're going to pass out. You need to sit down."

Ember felt herself trying to shake her head and nod at the same time, and then grabbing the edge of the table as she lowered herself to the floor. Acton sighed in exasperation, picking up Ember's chair first, and then scooping her up from the floor to set her in it as Asher wiped down the table. As he left with a rag that looked like it had been soaked in tar from all of the unnatural black blood that had come from Kaylee's fingers, Acton put his arm back around Ember's shoulders.

Ember opened her mouth to speak, but all she managed was to lift her hand, staring at the place on the table where Kaylee's fingers had been.

"That was unfortunate." Acton said calmly, leaning over to smell her hair. "Some days, Kaylee needs to be reminded of her place, but I do regret that you had to witness it."
Chapter 15

Ember sat in rigid silence as Asher brought around drinks and a plate of veggies and dip that Zinny had carefully arranged to resemble a teddy bear. Flat slices of carrot made up the body, with little bits of shredded cabbage making the fur, and tiny cut up radishes for the face and eyes. It frolicked through a celery and broccoli forest with a river made of ranch, and as Ember tried to look appreciative while she ate the food, she couldn't help but stare at Zinny. Mostly, she just couldn't bring herself to look at Acton.

We're not bad people. Ember wasn't even sure if they qualified as people. The stuff that had come oozing from Kaylee's hand hadn't been blood. It had been thick and dark, like chocolate syrup. The fact that Asher had laughed at the sight of a girl cutting her own fingers off was grotesque, and if Acton was to be believed, he had made her do it to remind her he was in charge.

She could hear them, sitting next to her, laughing and joking about the tourists and how the wife hadn't figured out yet that the husband was flirting with someone named Beatrice. Asher talked about the women on the island, his loneliness, and Acton made a remark about how his relationships never ended well, and he needed to give up. Then, they were cut short on a conversation about Isaac's latest "work"—Ember wasn't sure she wanted to know what that was—when Isaac walked back into the bar.

He had a dark stain running down the leg of his pants from stuffing Kaylee's fingers into his pocket, but outside of that one reminder, it was all so mundane that Ember almost felt the urge to yawn.

"Hey," he said, taking a seat at the table. He picked at the grime around his finger beds. "What did I miss?"

"Whole lot of nothing," Asher replied. "Trish might get lucky, so we can expect a screaming match by dawn. Might be he'll hang around here a few days extra, if she takes off with both kayaks or something. How's the queen bee?"

"Ah..." Isaac laughed, shaking his head as he stared at the table. "She's pissed."

Asher reached across the table for a bottle of beer, giving Isaac a significant look as he twisted the cap off. "You keeping those fingers?"

"I told her I lost them, but, yeah..."

"You can't lie to a mind reader, Isaac," Asher said, sighing as he watched Beatrice sit down in the tourist's lap. "What the hell are you going to do with her fingers?"

"I don't know yet."

"Huh. You're sick. I've known a lot of sick guys, Isaac, but you take the cake."

They sat in silence for a moment. Ember pretended to eat her food, wondering if she would be alive come sunrise, and wondering what she would do after that point if she was. Acton hadn't spoken a word since Isaac's return. She supposed that was as close to an apology as he would come for causing his girlfriend to be short three fingers and a thumb.

"She's been a trooper."

Ember looked up. Isaac was staring at her with a sort of flat interest in his eyes. Asher had answered his silent question, and was opening another beer and pushing it across the table to her. She reached for it, knowing that the motion looked robotic.

Isaac turned his stare on Acton. "What are you going to do with her?"

Acton sat forward, like he had been startled from his train of thought.

"I don't know yet," he replied in perfect mimicry. Then he looked over at Ember and smiled. "Does this bore you?" he asked. "You look like you're about to fall asleep."

Ember was shaking her head, frowning. She wanted to give him the answer he wanted. "No. No, I'm not bored."

Acton's smile only widened, and he briefly diverted his gaze before giving her a reassuring nod. "Em, finish your drink. We'll leave, and go somewhere that's less boring."

Ember continued to nod, but she felt her blood run cold.

Acton leaned back in his chair, letting his arm fall around her again as he leaned in to whisper in her ear. "It's just out to that place by the spring. You like it there."

She nodded again, clutching the beer in her hands and taking quick sips to calm herself down, but eventually her hands were shaking too much. She went to set the bottle down on the table, but didn't quite hit her mark, and spilled it on her lap. She shrieked as the fluid made contact with her skin, even though by that point it was almost room temperature.

Acton grabbed the bottle before it hit the floor, giving Ember a quick assessment before going to get some paper towels from behind the bar. When he set them on the table, she only stared at them, so Acton turned his chair to face her and carefully dabbed at front of her pants leg.

Asher was on his forth beer, but didn't seem to be even slightly inebriated. "Are you ever going to get sick of playing the babysitter?"

Acton turned around to glare at him, and Asher held up his hands in a disappointed acquiescence. Acton turned back to Ember, who was hugging herself and leaning forward, curling into a ball in her chair.

"Kaylee brought the clothes," Acton said quietly. "They're in the back room. Let's go, and you can change into something dry."

Ember slowly shook her head. "I'm dizzy."

He helped her to her feet, even as she insisted that she felt too sick to move, and she shuffled into the back room, where Acton promptly balanced her against a stack of crates, holding her by her shoulders.

"You're afraid of me," Acton said matter-of-factly. "You should be. But I won't hurt you. Do you want to go home now?"

Ember nodded sullenly, staring at the floor.

"Why?"

Her mumbled response was so quiet that she was surprised Acton even heard her. "Kaylee's hand..."

"Her fingers will grow back."

Ember looked up. "They grow back?"

Acton smiled weakly. "Just like your hair or finger nails. I won't lie to you—cutting them off wasn't pleasant for her. She won't forget it, but she's not permanently maimed."

"That was really disturbing. I'm pretty sure that's the most disturbing thing I've ever seen."

Acton paused, and a smile spread across his face. "That's possible. If I promise to never do something like that in front of you again, would you forgive me?"

"I'm pretty sure your promises are crap, Acton," Ember said with a sudden bold confidence. "You've never had any self-control."

Acton seemed impressed with her outburst, as though something she had said pleased him deeply. He folded his hands in front of him and nodded resolutely.

"That's true, to an extent. But my promises are not crap." He gestured around the room. "I have provided you with new clothes, as I promised. You may not remember, but I promised you companionship once. I keep my promises, even when my debtor was too intoxicated to remember."

Ember took a step forward. "I think I'm slightly intoxicated now."

"I agree," Acton replied. "I'll leave you to change, I'll take you somewhere to sober up, and we'll come back when Zinny has washed your clothes for you. Then, I'll take you home, and it will be at your discretion whether you ever come out to meet me again. No hard feelings. I won't bother you."

He folded his hands as he walked from the room, closing the door behind him. Ember sighed, looking around at the clothes. Kaylee had taken great care in displaying them. She had hung a broom across two stacks of crates to create a hanger for some dresses, and laid out several blouses and pairs of jeans on cardboard boxes in front of them. There was a pair of nice dance shoes—the kind with high heels, that Ember hadn't ever worn before. There was also a pair of knee-high boots, a pair of ballerina slippers, some suede, fur lined clogs, and some strappy sandals.

None of the shoes were good for walking through the forest. Ember wondered if any of the people—for lack of a better word—living on the island ever wore shoes outdoors.

Isaac didn't often wear shoes. She wasn't sure how she had come by that knowledge, but she knew it was a fact.

Shaking her head, and watching both doors warily as she ducked into a corner and faced the wall, she changed into a pair of the jeans, and then went to look through the dresses and blouses.

All of the dresses were covered in plastic, and so clean that Ember would have thought that they were new, except that someone had gone through and reinforced the straps with extra stitching and felt supports. Ember flicked through one dress after the next, each lighter than the next, shivering as she thought about going outdoors in any of them.

When she reached the last dress, she froze. In her reflection on the plastic, she could see a thin, pale face over her shoulder. She spun around, her breath catching in her throat.

No one was there. But as sure as the goose bumps on her arms, Ember knew she had seen a face, white and angry with dark eyes, staring at her from the far corner of the room.

"Acton!" she called hesitantly.

The door opened; Acton's eyes glanced at her, up and down. "You haven't changed."

"I put on jeans," Ember said quickly. "Someone was just in here."

Acton didn't move at first, his eyes wandering around the room. Then, he stepped in, and closed the door behind him, looking at Ember uncertainly.

"There's no one here, Ember."

Ember pressed herself further into her corner. "You didn't even look!"

"Because there's no one here," Acton insisted. "Now change your shirt. I'm getting bored, and that's dangerous."

He stared at Ember. Ember looked around the room, wondering if a combination of alcohol and nervous ticks created by seeing a woman cutting off her own fingers weren't getting to her.

Finally, she looked back to Acton. "Turn around."

Sighing, he obliged. Ember avoided looking at any of the dresses as she ripped the plastic off of each one, and then put on a thin cotton summer shirt. She pulled a long-sleeved blouse over it, and then slipped on a shawl. The shawl was orange and the shirt was white with purple sequins, but Ember didn't care; at least she would be warm.

"Done."

When Acton turned back around, he scowled at her. "You know, those things look nice when Jessica wears them."

"Jessica must not get cold easily." Ember retorted, balling up her clothes before setting them in an obvious spot on a crate. "Now let's go, or you can take me home."

"Empty threat," Acton said, opening the back door for her. "You'd rather be dead than going back there. You've said so more than once."

Walking out the door and closing her shawl as she crossed her arms, Ember chose to ignore the remark. Acton followed her out, putting his hands in his coat pockets. As they walked down Main, dark and lonely and blanketed with stars, Ember was reminded of the first night that she had gone out with Acton. She had been so determined to impress him, and to shed her image as Gina's damaged, outcast daughter.

She wondered if anything she had done had ever impressed him, or if it had all been a trick.

"What are you thinking about?" Acton asked.

Ember looked over at him; her words came out more sarcastic than she intended them to be. "You don't read thoughts? I thought Asher said—"

"Kaylee is a thought reader." Acton cut her off. "It's a common trick here, more common among the females, but I don't have it. However, it does seem to answer my question—you're angry at me for not telling you sooner."

Ember frowned, looking down. "No, I'm not."

Acton spun to stop in front of her, putting out a hand to touch just beneath her collar bone and stop her in her tracks. "Yes, you are. You never used to lie to me, Em. Are you afraid of me now?"

Ember took a deep breath, staring at the damp, packed dirt road under her feet. She shook her head as Acton's cold finger dropped back to his side, and looked him in the eye. He had said that if he wanted to kill her, he would just do it, and she believed him. There was no point in trying to escape, and she didn't want to die a coward or a liar.

"Yes." Ember tried not to flinch as Acton smiled. "You're turning into the guy my mother warned me about."

"I was always that guy," Acton said, his smile stretching wider. "You just didn't realize it."

"And tonight, I watched you make a girl cut off most of her hand using mental telepathy, or something." Ember sighed. "Why shouldn't I be afraid of you?"

Acton took a moment to make it clear he was contemplating the question. Ember suddenly felt like a five-year-old awaiting a gold star for the picture she had painted.

"Because you're a lost little girl with a bad family life, you're secretly excited by the fingers you saw on the table tonight, you're discovering that you're attracted to dangerous things—namely, me—and your personal dogma is survival of the fittest." Acton turned and started walking again, out into the woods. Not wanting to get left behind for whatever demon chose to come for her, she followed after him. "In short, you have potential. But mostly, Em, because I like you."

"Why?" Ember called at his back.

"There's no accounting for taste," Acton responded.

"No—I mean, why do I have potential?" Ember tripped on a rock in the dark and caught herself by grabbing hold of a tree trunk. When she looked back up, Acton was standing in front of her. He had been at least twenty feet in front of her before, and hadn't made a single noise backtracking to where she was bent over, awkwardly hugging a tree.

"You have potential because you're here, Ember," he said, making no move to help her up. "You kept chasing me, begging for my attention and approval, even after I threatened to kill you. Persistence is a key to success."

"Success at what?"

As Ember finally regained her footing, Acton offered his hand. When Ember took it, he wrapped an arm behind her back and another under her knees, lifting her up to carry her.

"Hey!"

As Acton took off at a run, Ember grabbed the front of his jacket.

"Acton!"

He didn't respond; they were moving so quickly that Ember could feel a breeze on her cheeks. She shut her eyes against the wind and tried to move her hands from his jacket to his shoulders as she bounced and jostled along, certain at every bump that he was about to drop her.

When the wind on her cheeks finally stopped, and she felt the ground gently rise beneath her back, she cracked her eyes open. The ground was warm, and there were fewer trees here, and they were smaller, allowing for a panoramic view of the night sky.

Shivering on the ground, Ember stared up at Acton's eyes, eerily flashing in the dim moonlight as he looked down at her.

She shook her head in small, tight jerks. "You can't do that anymore."

Acton settled down on the ground next to her, stretching out so that he could stare straight up at the sky. "I'm not going to change, and especially not because you've told me to. I'm willing to extend you the same courtesy."

Ember looked back up at the sky, suddenly taken with frustration and gratitude she felt at the prospect that Acton would never change, but that he never wanted her to either. She supposed his terms were fair.

"Could you at least make an attempt to not do any more mutilation in front of me?" she asked. "It made me sick."

"It made you worried," Acton corrected. "But you don't need to worry. And no, I'm not changing that aspect of my life. I enjoy it too much."

Ember's gaze traveled around the sky, searching out the constellations that she had learned in school. They had taken a few fieldtrips to study astronomy, and a handful more overnight camping trips, but the stars in a place as rural and unlit as Tulukaruk were spectacular. It made her feel like she was at the bottom of the ocean, staring up at so much weight, just to be under it.

"They make me feel lonely," she said suddenly. "It's like I don't matter..."

"It's the alcohol," Acton said flatly. "And you're always lonely."

Ember glanced over at him. "I thought you couldn't read thoughts?"

"All of us...all of the demons." He hesitated, as if he hated using the word. "We can't all read thoughts, but we can read emotions, and especially painful ones. Those come from somewhere else. We feed on them."

"Ah." Ember rolled onto her stomach so that she wouldn't have to stare into the infinite sky anymore. "So, that's why you like me."

"And I'm the only one willing to indulge your emotional neediness without killing you, so that must be why you like me," he retorted. "Don't judge me. You're so desperate that you would rather make friends with a demon than be alone. You're going to hell."

Ember couldn't help the sarcastic smile that was spreading across her lips. "At least we'll be together. So, how does this work, then?"

"What?"

"This...friendship. Relationship. Whatever it is." Ember paused, trying to order her words to make sense. "What do I do?"

When Acton didn't respond, Ember looked over. He was giving her an odd look.

"I don't know," he said finally. "I've never made friends with a victim before. I suppose you'll come out each night, we'll drink, torture a helpless soul, talk about our horrible lives, and then I'll get you home before dawn."

Ember frowned. "I don't like the idea of torturing."

"Well," Acton snapped, "I don't like the idea of not torturing. If you're going to befriend demons, you need to accept that part of the deal." When he looked and saw the sullen expression on Ember's face as she huddled in the cold next to him, he shrugged. "I'll think about it. I suppose it won't last long, anyways." He paused, and then looked over at her before quickly looking away. "You could go out in the water."

For a moment, Ember wasn't sure that she had heard him correctly. "What?"

It had started out innocent, when Asher had pushed her in. Then it had become a habit, and then, a desire. At first he had told himself that he liked the smell of her better after the water; the salt and cold stripped away all of the soaps and artificial smells, and it felt more like being with an island native. But there was something more to it, and it was in the invitation, and the heat. Every night after he made her go into the water, as she lay on the ground shivering, she would insist that he come and lie next to her because he was going to freeze to death—never mind the fact that he had been the one to put her in the water to begin with. He had refused her offer until the night she had cut her hand, and that was when he discovered the warmth.

He had accepted her offer the next night, and the next. She would press up against him, putting his hands flat on her back under her shirt and doing the same to him. At first he had worried that he would prevent her from warming back up, but he had quickly discovered that there wasn't any stopping her. She warmed herself, and him, and the feeling was close to infatuation. On the night that she had kissed him, he had decided that the addiction would end.

Acton swallowed, shaking his head. "Nothing. Forget it."

Furrowing her brow, Ember looked over at him. "Do you think my mother is going to kill me?"

Acton almost laughed, but it came out as a hiss as he shook his head. "That would be a shocking turn of fate. More likely she would kill me, or Ethel would. God knows she tries."

Ember sat up sharply, looking down so that she could see his face. "She's actually killed people?"

Acton's expression remained impassive. "Ethel has had a few. But your mother...yes, she's killed more than a few of us."

The image of Gina with a knife in her hand as she opened the front door the night that Ember had locked herself out flashed through her mind, and she wondered how lucky she had been. Ethel had asked what was wrong with her before slapping her hard across the cheek.

It will all be over soon enough. Ember wasn't sure if it was a threat or not. The way Gina had said it, she seemed to have meant it more as a promise. It was an inevitability to her, whether she wanted it or not, and Ember was almost sure she knew what Gina had meant now.

She had given up. Gina had given up trying to stop Ember from being with Acton and his friends, and she had already accepted her death. In her mind, she was already one of them.

But as Ember looked down at Acton, spread out so casually in the tall reeds, with the faint sounds of waves and the bubbling of the nearby stream on the breeze, she didn't mind. Even if she was only an amusement to him, she could accept that he was only the same to her. If she was going to die in this place, it wasn't the worst of things. The forest was magic at night when demons were involved. They were brutal, and beautiful, and if she had to do all of her living in only a few weeks, Ember was prepared.

Acton's brown-green eyes watched her carefully, almost hesitantly, as she slowly laid back down, close enough that her arm was touching Acton's but still far enough to allow him his space. He closed his eyes and shook his head, wishing that he didn't want to reach out and take her hand.
Chapter 16

In the cold wet of dawn, Acton stood up and lifted Ember into his arms, walking at first, and then building to a sprint. He harangued her into changing back into the clothes that Thalia had given her, and then carried her and her new bag of supplies back out into the brightening woods. When he set her down several hundred feet from her mother's home, she almost cried.

"I don't want to go back there," she pleaded. "Can't I just stay outside? I could live out here, like Isaac."

"You're one of them, even if you don't act like them." Acton said back to her, nodding toward the house. "That will never change. And I have needs that you don't meet."

"Acton..."

"Just stay in your room," he said over his shoulder as he walked away. The back of his black suede jacket was damp from being on the ground all night, and little bits of dried grass had stuck to it. It was the messiest she had ever seen him. "Come back out tonight, or don't. I'll watch for you either way."

Ember watched him until he was gone, but then turned around, picked up her bag, and slowly trudged back to her mother's house, thinking about how nice the stars looked through the haze of Acton's hypnotism. The world was filled with broad strokes of bright colors whenever he did it; it was like looking at a living impressionist painting.

There was a layer of damp on the stone wall at the back of the yard, and Ember didn't even have the energy to care. She wasn't going to walk around to the gate. She laid herself flat, hugging the wall as she slid over on her stomach, feeling the cold and the grime as they attached themselves to the cotton garments she was wearing.

The fire pit where her mother had created an inferno the night before had gone to a cold grey muck. Ember stared at it longingly; everything she had brought with her had gone into that pit. That was what it all came down to in the end; ash and mud.

She picked up a stick, poking through the mess, wondering if anything had escaped the blaze. It wouldn't be like having it back, but even something little—like a metal button, or a coin—would be enough to remember it all by. She would keep the little souvenir safe forever after, and it would be like she had somehow salvaged a piece of everything she should have kept safe to begin with.

But as she stirred the gunk, she hit on something hard and smooth. She poked at what she thought was a large river stone until it turned over. Two empty eye sockets and a gaping maw of teeth stared back at her.

Ember dropped her stick.

Acton had said that Gina was a killer. He had said that she killed on a regular basis, but it hadn't been a reality to Ember until right in that moment. She wondered what unfortunate soul had gone up in flames with her tennis shoes, underclothes, and cell phone, and felt sick to her stomach when Thalia's words came back to her.

Gina and Ethel had had a fight. Ethel had "gone away," and Thalia wasn't sure when she would come back.

Ember wasn't sure if she was ever coming back.

She crouched down in front of the skull, wondering if she would even recognize her grandmother, inching closer, trying to make her hand leave the side of her body to fetch the bone, thinking that someone ought to give it a proper burial. It didn't deserve to rest there, covered with black-brown goo and grit. It looked like it was in a cesspool.

With her throat gone dry, and just as she had finally convinced her fingers to reach out and brush a glob of fine-ash muck from the skull's brow, the skull moved.

Ember jumped back in surprise, landing on her rump in the mud. She crab-walked backwards a few feet, keeping her eyes on the skull, unsure if she had actually just seen what she thought she had seen.

After a few more moments, as the skull and Ember stared each other down, the skull gently rolled onto its side, and something black started to come out of it.

It wasn't like the mud or the wet ash, or even like decaying flesh. What was slowly inching its way out of the eye socket, like a massive worm trying to wiggle away from the mouth of death, was the same substance that Ember had seen bleeding from Kaylee's hand.

It was alive.

As Ember sat transfixed, the worm slowly gyrating and pulsing as it struggled to birth itself from the eye socket, the skull suddenly exploded beneath the heel of Gina Gillespie's boot heel. She kicked at the struggling black worm, and then tossed a soaked towel over it.

Ember caught a whiff of the kerosene just before Gina struck the match and flames shot up from the ground; the black thing writhed and hissed, like bacon shrinking in a hot pan. Gina beat her hand against her apron to put out the part of her that had caught when she had lit the towel she had carried, and then looked Ember coolly in the eye.

"We've got food, and you're welcome to it," she said. "But I don't want to talk to you, so keep your mouth shut unless you're putting something in it."

Chapter 17

Inside the house, Thalia was hunched over a bowl of oatmeal. Her eyes peeked out from under her brow for a split second before she refocused on her food.

"Lia," Ember said quietly, fetching a bowl for herself from the cabinet and filling it at the stove.

Thalia didn't look up. She didn't move. She just sat there, clutching her spoon and staring into the specter of her breakfast like it held her escape. Ember took a quick look out the kitchen window to be sure that Gina was still outside. She was still kicking and beating at the thing that had squirmed from the skull.

Ember turned back to her sister. "Who was that out there? Who did she kill?"

Thalia's eyes darted up once again, but disappeared again just as quickly.

"Lia," Ember tried again, this time lowering her voice. "Where's Nan? Did mom kill her? They keep calling her a hunter. What is that?"

Without a word, Thalia got up from the table, scooping her uneaten oatmeal into the garbage and putting her dish in the sink. She ran the water enough to fill it and keep the food bits from sticking, and then made a beeline for the pile of shoes by the front door. She pulled on a pair, and turned for the door leading to the garden.

Ember gingerly stepped in to block the door, and Thalia was forced to face her. Her hair hung in pigtail braids today, much as it had when they were little. As their eyes met, Thalia only gave a little nod of surrender.

"You should shower," she whispered, pushing past Ember to join her mother in the garden. "We don't talk about the rest of it. Ever."

Watching her go, Ember sighed, nodding, and looked down at the bowl of oatmeal in her hands. Thalia wasn't going to talk to her anymore, and Ember couldn't blame her. Gina was...well, she was in the back yard, crushing something unnatural beneath her foot while burning it alive.

She wasn't someone that anyone would want to cross.

Ember went up to her bedroom, pausing in the doorway as she looked around the empty shell. She had almost forgotten. She turned and went down the hall, opening the door to her grandmother's room. Without touching anything else, she set the bowl of oatmeal on the nightstand, her bag by the bed, and returned to the hall. As she fetched a towel from the linen closet and went into the bathroom to shower, she felt dead on her feet.

Balling up the clothes Thalia had given her and putting them in the sink, she hoped they didn't stink too badly. Zinny had washed them, but Acton had carried her most of the way home. She washed, paying close attention to her hair, and then wrapped herself in a towel and went back to her grandmother's room.

She looked around at the many artifacts of a life well-lived, and her eyes fell on a set of Russian nesting dolls sitting on the dresser by the window. Ember wasn't sure if her grandmother had ever been to Russia, and for a moment, she felt a pang of regret.

The black slug in the backyard hadn't been her grandmother. Ember wasn't sure why she was so sure, but she was. The thing had been one of them—one of the demons. But if that was true, then where was her grandmother? The woman was old, and Ember wasn't sure that she could take care of herself. Gina had probably sent her away to an elder care facility. That was what she tended to do with family members who crossed her.

When the demons had called her a hunter, Ember had somehow assumed they meant that she carried a gun, or a knife, in Gina's case. But she was a hunter—she hunted them, and killed them, and burned them. They didn't look on her as a normal human, and they were afraid.

And now, Ember understood why.

She opened the drawers, feeling like she was invading Ethel's privacy. For years, she had wondered what would have happened if her grandmother had stood up to Gina and forced her to keep the daughter she hadn't wanted. Now, she realized that Ethel had been little more than a child herself in the situation.

Gina ruled the household. Gina ruled the entire island.

Ember changed into a simple, old woman's nightgown. It was floor-length and had frills around the neck and cuffs that itched, but it was a pretty thing. As she grabbed her cold oatmeal and went to sit on the bed and eat it, she noticed that like the nightgown, the bedspread also had a floral pattern. The pattern was hand-stitched, and raised off the fabric in a way that made it nice to touch.

The entire room was so different from the Spartan simplicity of the rest of the house, Ember wondered if she and Ethel would have gotten along. The room was even set up much the way that Ember's room had been, with the nightstand under the window and the bed pushed into a corner. Cursing Gina once again for robbing her of everything she could have had, her thoughts returned to the thing in the back yard, and she paused.

Gina destroyed or got rid of everything that caused frustration in her life. She killed people for it, and yet, as far as Ember had pushed her, and as difficult as she had made her life, she hadn't forced her back out.

It was possible that their blood relation was the reason, even though it seemed of very little value to Gina. What was astounding, then, was that nothing had happened to Acton yet.

Ember furrowed her brow. Why hadn't Gina gone after Acton? Even if they were friends, which Ember strongly doubted, part of Acton's motivations had to be to use her to get at Gina. Even though Ember didn't know Gina very well, she was certain that Acton would be a slug under her foot if it ever came down to a direct fight.

It was possible that Acton's mind control, or whatever power he possessed, worked on Gina too; in which case, Acton was responsible for everything. He may have been the one who sent her away to begin with, the one who brought her back, and the one who had destroyed her life.

Ember set aside her oatmeal. The thought turned her stomach, but not nearly as much as the next to come into her head.

Acton had been taking her out for weeks, and if Gina's bonfire was any indication, he had been doing it to goad her into a fight. But Gina had refused to fight him, and instead, she had blamed Ember, and begged her to stop going out. It was the same way she acted toward Thalia.

It was the way that mothers acted toward their children, and the way that Gina had never acted toward Ember.

With a sour taste in her mouth, Ember felt her lips contort into an expression of disgust. She turned to close the drapes over the window, but stopped when she saw something sitting outside on the window sill. It was a small overturned glass jar, with a piece of paper tucked underneath it.

Sliding the window open enough to investigate, and saw a hairy spider, about the size of a quarter, hunched and terrified against one wall of the jar. Grabbing the small jar, and the paper beneath it, she pulled the tiny creature inside and gently shut the window again. Setting the jar on the nightstand with the little spider still inside, she pulled the piece of paper out from under to read it.

So you won't get lonely. Remember to free him tonight.

Ember's heart gave a little leap of gratitude as she stared back down at the tiny spider, slowly circling the rim of the glass, searching with his front two legs for a way out.

Even as she quietly wondered who Acton was, and what he was to Gina to be immune to her wrath, she hugged a pillow to her chest and smiled at the small creature he had sent to keep her company.
Chapter 18

The day was spent between fitful bouts of sleep and crawling thoughts of dark shadows in the corners. Twice, Ember awoke and wasn't sure where she was; one of those times, she was sure she heard something slithering across the floor, dragging and contorting and slapping against the bedposts and furniture as it went. Too terrified to look, and unsure if the slug could climb, she sat frozen in terror in her bed, making no sound, for nearly three hours.

When the window finally started to glow with the red rays of sunset, Ember wasn't even sure she would be able to get out of bed. She rolled over, looking at the spider in the jar on the nightstand. He, at least, should be allowed to get on with his life.

Ember stood up, throwing open the blinds and wincing at the blast of heat and light that came through the window. It was almost like one of Gina's bonfires. Inching open the window just enough, Ember slid the note back under the jar and inched it back out onto the sill, tipping it open and giving the spider a light blow to get him moving. She set the jar right side up and pulled the note back in. Just as she was about to shut the window, she saw another note tucked into a gap in the wood trim on the side of the window. She leaned against the frame to get her arm out far enough to reach it.

Pulling it back in, and bracing her hands to push the window shut, she saw Acton leaning against a tree several yards from the house. His hair was wet and shining in the fading sunlight, and even with the glare, Ember could swear he smiled at her as he gave her a small wave.

The whole thing was so normal that it made her skin crawl. If what she had surmised was correct, he was a dark thing on the inside.

They were all monsters wearing human skin.

She threw herself back onto the bed, sighing and groaning. Whenever she didn't sleep well, her body knew it. Her muscles ached and her joints creaked, and the light buzz of a migraine clawed at the back of her right eye.

Acton could help those things. In the presence of demons, a person could saw off their own fingers. The pain didn't mean anything when the world was a jar of fireflies and color.

She knew it was unnatural. She was starting to believe Gina that they could kill her. And even though she knew both of those things were wrong, she didn't care. Her life hadn't turned out the way she had wanted it to, she didn't have rules to play by anymore, and these demons—even if they were demons—were her friends. At least, she wanted to believe they were.

Rubbing at her eyes and opening the note, Ember knew she couldn't stay in bed any longer. Acton knew she was up, and his casual wave and friendly smile still haunted her.

Come out tonight. Isaac has a surprise for you.

Ember slowly shook her head. The young man who had decided to keep Kaylee's severed fingers had a surprise for her. She hadn't quite figured out who Kaylee was to the Knox brothers, but she always seemed to be around. When she had met Kaylee, she had thought she was Asher's girlfriend, but more recently, she seemed to be with Isaac.

As she tried to pull together a plan, she got up and slipped out of Ethel's flowery nightgown and into a pair of pants and a shirt, rolling them up as needed. She pulled open her bag and grabbed her brush, hastily pulling it through her hair. There were more knots and tangles than usual, probably from all of her tossing and turning, and Ember hesitated in front of the little mirror that Ethel had hung above her dresser. When her hair tangled, it got frizzy when a brush was taken to it, and Ember abhorred the fact that today she looked more like Gina than Thalia. She once again wished she had the supplies and knowledge to dye her hair a different color.

She took one of the hair ties that Charles had given her and pulled it back as best she could, and eventually trudged to the bathroom to dampen her hair to make it lie flat. Walking down the stairs, she heard the voices at the breakfast table stop at her approach. Thalia refused to look up at her when she passed the table to go to the kitchen, where Gina was chopping up vegetables and throwing them into a crockpot.

Ember took a glass from the cabinet and filled it at the sink, and then leaned against the counter as she slowly gulped it down and watched her mother. There were carrots, onions, tomatoes, and celery lined up by the chopping board, but as Ember recalled, Charles only sold canned goods.

"Did you order all of those in?" Ember asked, keeping her voice low.

"I grew them all in the garden," Gina said, shaking her head and setting the knife down on the counter unnecessarily hard. "You're not to speak in this house, remember?"

Wiping her hands on a dish towel, she went to sit with Thalia at the table. Wandering over to the window, Ember was surprised that Gina could get such a harvest so far north, but she had never had a gift with plants, so she wasn't sure if it was unusual or not. She wasn't even sure if Gina had only said it to brush her off.

She made herself some toast, ate it in silence, and was inspecting the contents of the knife block by the refrigerator when a thought occurred to her. Finding the butcher knife that Gina had used to threaten her the night that she had wandered out, she picked it up and tried to fit it in her pocket. It was too big, but there was a smaller carving knife that she thought she could hide at her hip if she positioned it correctly down the leg of her pants.

Taking it with her, she held it out in front of Gina at the table.

"Is this what you use to fight them?" she asked. "If I take it with me, could I use it to defend myself?"

Thalia pushed her bowl away and started shaking. Gina pulled her into a hug, glaring at Ember. She didn't say anything, but Ember swallowed hard at the look in her eyes.

If she thought she needed a knife, she was already as good as dead. The knives were only as good as the person who wielded them.

Ember took the knife with her anyways, using it to cut a small hole in the waist hem of her pants to free the pull string and make a catch for the knife to hang on as she tucked it in against her leg. She held her hand as inconspicuously as she could, walking slowly so that she didn't cut herself open as she went out to meet with the Knox boys.

The sun was below the tree level by that point, and the world was stuck between night and day. It was bright enough for Ember to still see clearly, but dark enough that the colors had dulled, giving the world the appearance that everything was on a black and white television screen. Acton was still standing by the same tree he had been when she had seen him from the window.

"You came," he said, taking a few steps toward her. He didn't smile, but his eyes flashed with subtle delight.

"You left me notes," Ember said, hoping she could get her questions answered while she was still within screaming distance of the house. Gina wasn't likely to come for the sake of her rescue, but Ember hoped she would for the sake of the bloodbath. "You've never done that before."

"I had to contend with Ethel before, but she's gone now." A wide grin spread across his face. "Now, it's only Gina. She has to look after Thalia, so you belong to me."

"Was it her, in the fire?" Ember asked, trying to act like the event hadn't shaken her.

Acton seemed to consider for a moment, his smile never fading, and his eyes lingered on the awkward posture of her hand against her side for a moment too long.

He looked her in the eye. "No. That was one of us. His name was Joseph. His absence is the reason you're remembering better. Feeling a little bit sharper, perhaps."

Ember hadn't heard anything, but the goose bumps on her arms told her that someone was behind her. She drew her knife and turned around.

Asher looked down at the knife in Ember's hands and laughed, clapping his hands together and the pressing his index fingers to his lips as he shook his head. "Oh, my god. You're serious."

Ember took a few steps back, trying to get enough distance between herself, Acton, and Asher that she could see them both at the same time. As she walked backwards, a set of cold hands landed on her shoulders, and she spun again.

Isaac was behind her, chewing his lip nervously as he stared at the knife in her hands. He carefully maneuvered around her to stand between Asher and Acton. Asher's face was still glowing as he stared at Ember, brandishing a knife at the three of them.

"Did your mother give you that?" he asked.

Ember hesitated. The look in Isaac's eyes said he had seen a Gillespie with a knife before, and suddenly, she felt foolish, and even a little guilty. "No. I took it."

"Even better." Asher took two steps forward, but stopped in his tracks when Acton spoke.

"Leave her alone, Ash." He walked forward himself. "She belongs to me now. I'll handle it."

He walked within an arm's reach of her. Ember kept the knife between them.

"Are you going to cut me, Ember?" he asked, his voice low and gentle.

"What are you?" she asked, the shaking finally winning over in her voice. "Are you one of those things I saw in the fire? Are you a thing inside a person?"

"I'm who you've come to know," Acton said simply, holding his hands out genially and then letting them drop to his sides. "And I assure you, this body is mine. I was born with it." He turned to look at Isaac and Asher before turning back to her. "Our common affliction allows us to regenerate our bodies if we are injured, and that is likely what you saw. It was the last piece of Joseph, trying to crawl away to heal himself."

"Like Kaylee's fingers." Ember said quietly. Acton nodded. Shaking her head, she held her grip on the knife. "I have another question."

"Ask it," Acton replied. "I reserve the right to refuse an answer."

"You keep calling her a hunter," she said. "What is that? Is she human, or is she—"

"Normal humans don't kill people like us," Acton said with a sudden frown. "I'm afraid the food chain moves in the opposite direction. No, she's not human."

"Am I—?"

"You're human," he said, seeming disappointed. "For now, at least. I wasn't sure before, but..." His eyes wandered, and he gave a nod, looking suddenly sad. "You're most definitely human."

"Why is my mother protecting you?" The words came out harsher than she had intended, and for the first time, Ember felt the resentment that had been brewing in her every time her mother had told her not to go but refused to be a mother and actually stop her. "Is she your mother, too?"

Acton's face went stony and rigid as he clenched his jaw. What little playfulness that had been in his eyes before disappeared, and it was replaced by cold indifference. "That's utter nonsense, Ember. Now, either use that knife or give it to me—I'm done with this game."

He took another step forward, moving an arm out toward her, and without thinking, Ember gave a shriek and thrust the knife out before her.

The world went quiet. With her eyes closed and her heart pounding, she could feel the knife still in her hand, but her thumb and forefinger were resting against something soft. Slowly, she opened her eyes.From where she was cowering on the ground, she could see around Acton's legs to where Isaac and Asher had been standing.

They were gone.

Her eyes drifted up, to where her hand was still holding the knife that had disappeared in Acton's stomach. There was a look of shock on his face, and though Ember found it hard to believe, he was more surprised than she was. He swatted away her hand and wrenched the knife from his gut as Ember scrambled away backwards, staring at the blackened blade as he took several long, slow breaths.

When he finally turned his gaze back on Ember, it was relaxed and deliberate. He was completely calm, and Ember suddenly knew why his brothers had gone.

Acton had been stabbed, and someone was going to die. It wasn't going to be Acton.

She flipped onto her stomach and tried to gain traction on the forest floor, but Acton had her by the back of her shirt before she could even get up.

"It was an accident!" she screamed. "An accident!"

He had one arm around her stomach, and the other her arms against her body in a bear hug. When he spoke, his mouth was pressed close to her ear. His breath was as cold as his words. "You're bolder than I thought, Em. You don't fight. You don't stand up for yourself. You lay down and take it, like you've always taken it, because you refuse to live your life. You didn't want it so you gave your life to me, and I took care of you. I made you mine. Not once, not ever, did I ever think you would stab me!"

"I learned it from you!" she hissed back at him. She hit him hard, right where she had stabbed him with the carving knife, and he let her go.

She took several quick strides before a noise made her stumble. It wasn't Asher or Isaac, and it wasn't Acton coming after her. It was something quieter, like a stifled cough. She looked over her shoulder just long enough to see if Acton was still there.

He was standing there, with his hands in his pockets, laughing. And behind him, Gina was standing there, with Thalia half hiding behind her.

Ember stopped; this was the moment. One of them wasn't leaving this place.

Still smiling as black blood dripped down his pants leg, he bent over and picked up the knife from where he had dropped it. He turned around to face Gina as she reached a hand back for Thalia, forcing her further behind her body.

"Your daughter plays rough," Acton said, casually gesturing back at Ember with the knife. "You shouldn't leave these things lying around where children can find them. Someone could get hurt."

She was holding Thalia behind her with both hands as Acton walked towards her with the knife. "Asher said—"

"Ash brought you," Acton said, stopping an arm's reach away from her. "I'll be sure to thank him. Gina, you didn't even come out when she bled. I'm honored."

They stared at each other. Thalia had crouched down low behind her mother's leg, whimpering. Ember felt herself walking toward them. When Gina's eyes flashed to her, burning a hole in her head, Ember felt herself speak.

"It was an accident..."

Acton must have smiled, because the scowl on Gina's face deepened, making her look years older. She was tired, and for the first time, Ember was aware of the bags under her eyes.

In one swift motion, Acton turned the knife in his hand, holding it by the blade as he offered it to Gina. Slowly, she took one hand away from Thalia, and allowed him to place the knife in her hand. Her eyes moved from the knife to Acton's face, looking caught between gratitude, anger, and confusion.

Thalia's voice was little more than a squeak. "Mom."

Isaac had appeared out of the forest behind them, and though she couldn't see Asher, Ember knew he was there. They were surrounded.

"Now," Acton said quietly. "You can use that knife, or not. But only one of them is leaving here with you. You know my preference."

Thalia stood up, and started pulling at Gina's shirt. "Mom..."

Acton's jaw clenched as Thalia's whines continued to get louder. "Shut her up. We're trying to talk."

Clenching her jaw, Gina's eyes looked from Acton to Ember, and the sadness there hardened. As Ember stared at her, a shadow of the woman who had screamed into a fire, she hoped that she would suddenly flare again, tell Acton to step off, and drag Ember back to the house by her arm.

"Are you doing that?" Ember asked over the sound of Thalia's crying. "Are you making her act like that?"

"No," he responded with a sneer. His eyes never left Gina. She dropped the knife and spun around, slapping Thalia across the face so hard that she yelped and fell to the ground at Isaac's feet. "But I did that."

"Acton!" Ember yelled, trying to run forward. He had out his arm, blocking her from going to her sister.

Gina stood frozen in shock. Bringing both hands to her mouth, she knelt down next to her daughter as Isaac leapt away. "Lia I'm so sorry!"

"It's okay!" Thalia choked through a sob. Her face was red, and the skin on her cheekbone looked like it might have almost broken. She touched it tenderly as Gina whirled on Acton with malice in her eyes.

The knife was back her hand as she spat her words at him. "You want Ember. Fine—take her. But you leave Thalia alone! You take her, and you leave Thalia alone. That's the deal?"

Acton nodded calmly.

"It's a deal," Gina said gruffly. "But you mark my words, Acton. Stay out of my head. Stay out of Thalia's head. And don't you dare turn Ember. Because if you do—if you break this deal—" She had the knife pointed directly at Acton's chest, but as she paused, her eyes narrowed and she turned it on Ember. "I'll kill her. It's kinder than what you have in store. Don't test me."

She took the knife, turned around, and ushered Thalia past Isaac and back toward the house. Acton turned back around to face Ember.

With her jaw hanging open, Ember was still trying to figure out if the things she had witnessed had really just happened. "She...she wants to kill me. She left me..."

"She left you years ago." Acton sighed, looking at the sky. It was almost full dark. "And I'm sure she doesn't want to kill you. She just knows very well that I hate boredom, and you've been keeping me entertained."

Closing her eyes, Ember shook her head. She had known, but this time it was real. Her mother had looked her in the eye, and then thrown her to the wolves. She had chosen one daughter over the other, and it had been easy.

"Don't ever do that to my sister again," she said distantly. She scanned the forest, but Isaac was gone again, and she suspected that Asher was, too. They had probably followed Gina back at a safe distance to be sure she wasn't returning.

"Don't ever stab me again." Acton frowned. "And I am not Gina Gillespie's son, or any other relation to her. There's nothing between us but old insults that need repayment."

Ember shook her head lightly. "She favors you."

"You've mistaken her pointed cruelties toward me for favoritism." A light smile flashed on his thin lips before he looked back at her. He put an arm around her shoulders.

"Cruelties?"

Acton pressed his lips together, but eventually nodded. "I did something, a long time ago. Something unspeakably evil, by your mother's reaction. She told me that she would never kill me. I've seen many individuals come here, and accept her offer of amnesty as long as they followed the rules. Then they broke the rules, and Gina burned them alive. But not me, Ember. She swore to me that as long as the both of us were alive, she wouldn't kill me. She wouldn't let me go. She would just keep me here, forever."

"But—you leave, I know you leave—"

"From time to time." Acton nodded; his voice sounded slow and thick. "But they keep me on my toes. This island is the only place I can rest."

Staring at him, and the look in his eyes, Ember suddenly realized what he was getting at.

"You hate it," she said quietly. "You're pushing her because you want her to do it. You want to die?"

With the light almost gone, Acton's eyes flashed a deep red glow when he looked over at her.

"What I want," he said. "Is to make Gina a liar. And until the day I force her to break her vow, she'll let me do whatever I want."

Ember shifted uncomfortably, but Acton didn't move away. She gave him a sideways glance. "What am I going to do now?"

"You're going to come out with me, like you do every night." Acton shrugged. "You'll help me impress people at the bar because I've got Gina's daughter on my arm, and try on some of the clothes from Kaylee. Then, I'll take you out by the spring and we'll watch the stars because that's what you like, and I'll bring you home at night and you can use your mother's house like a hotel. That's all we ever have to do, forever."

"Forever?" Ember repeated, her heart sinking.

Acton's eyes were fixed on her face. When he didn't respond, she looked over and saw the expression on his face.

"Death in a trap. Of course."

Ember furrowed her brow. "What?"

"Nothing." Acton frowned, taking his arm away from her shoulders. It swung awkwardly at his side until he tucked his hand into his pocket. Ember crossed her arms. "Come out with me tonight to keep me company. I promise I'll let you go when it's dawn."
Chapter 19

Back at the bar, Ember and Acton sat in silence at a table in the corner.

"Asher and Isaac could have kept you company," she said quietly.

He sighed, leaning back. "Do you have somewhere you need to be?"

"No." She looked down at the table, wondering exactly when and how her life had spun out of control. Was it when she had decided to defend Acton to her mother? When she had taken her first drink at the bar? The shattered window? Or maybe it had been long before she had even come back, when she decided she wanted to come back. In any case, she couldn't go home; the situation with Gina was beyond an apology. It was beyond salvation, and even if Thalia would continue to be her friend, Ember wasn't sure if she wanted to risk bringing her sister down with her.

Acton was all she had left, for as long as he wanted her. She had a sinking feeling that he wasn't of a disposition to let her leave until he was done, if he let her leave at all.

The thought made her blood run cold. "Are you going to kill me?"

Acton didn't move. He hardly reacted to her accusation. "No."

"Not tonight, I mean. I know you're not going to do it tonight." She licked her lips. "But eventually. Eventually..."

Finally, he looked over at her, unblinking. "I suppose I could be the death of you, eventually. But as of this moment, I have no intention of killing you myself. I'll protect you, as Gina seems to have left her post. I suggest you don't push me though—I am prone to changing my mind."

Ember stared at him. After a moment, she started to shake her head. "Why would you want to help me?"

Acton looked back out over the bar. When he placed his arm around her shoulders, using his other hand to gesture at Isaac, she didn't bother trying to stop him. "I may have my moments, Ember, but I do occasionally like to entertain. Allow me to entertain you."

Ember tried to relax, but the threads of tension that ran taut through the dark bar every time someone glanced over at her kept her on pins and needles. As Isaac walked up to the table, wearing a sheepish expression and pulling something from his back pocket, she sat up at attention.

Acton filled her in before she could ask. "I told you, Isaac had a surprise for you."

With her eyes fixed on Isaac's intense stare, Acton had to nudge her before she looked down at his hands.

"My book!" she gasped, taking the book from his hands. It was dirty, and the pages were wrinkled like they had been wet, and they smelled slightly of mold and something unsavory, but it was her book. One of the many she thought that Gina had burned.

"I was there the night when she was doing it." Isaac seemed unsure about what to do with his hands now that the book was gone, and they hung awkwardly in the air before him. "She had it all bundled up in her arms, and this one dropped. I picked it up before she could come back and find it, and I was holding on to it, and I wasn't sure what I wanted to do with it."

Ember looked back up at Isaac, too grateful for words.

"I thought you might like to have it," Isaac finished. "As a welcome present."

As she stood up from the chair, Isaac shied away. She took two more deliberate steps forward, and hugged him as he stood stalk still and stiff as a board. Moving away, she saw the horrified look on Isaac's face as he stared at Acton. When Ember looked over, she saw that Acton was smirking.

"What?" she asked.

"He's afraid I'm going to do something, because I told him not to touch you." Acton explained.

"Oh." Ember frowned, stepping away from Isaac and sitting back down. "You won't, will you? I mean, he gave me back my book..."

"Not this time," Acton said quickly. "But don't make a habit of it."

Giving her one more curt nod, Isaac shoved his empty hands back into his pockets and left. It wasn't long before Asher appeared with drinks, and Ember was grateful for the crutch that the alcohol provided. Time started to speed up, and soon she was laughing at jokes, and expressions, and even Asher—just for being Asher. He had a way of making her feel loose and happy.

Even as she sloshed about at the table, and Asher gently pushed her back upright, or off of the table, or back into her chair, she noticed the way that Acton glared at him for it. She was mostly sure that he wasn't touching her except to help her stay off the floor, but as the night went on, she became less and less sure of anything.

It wasn't until the cold blast of air whipped past her face that she looked up and realized that they had left the bar. They were among the tall grass by the spring again; this time, however, they were closer to the water. The sound of the waves was deafening to her overly sensitive ears, and as she watched the hot spring water slowly join the freezing ocean, she realized where so much of the fog was that hung around this place came from—it was steam.

The stars filled her vision, and she felt gravity shift. Acton was sighing.

"You shouldn't drink so much," he said.

"Why do your eyes do that?" Ember asked, a thin, sick smile crossing her lips. "You look like a doe in the headlights."

He laid down next to her, and Ember was surprised when she felt him right next to her as he turned her on her side. "It's because my night vision is better than yours."

Ember tried to roll onto her back. She wanted to drown in the stars again, but Acton held her shoulder firmly, keeping her facing away from him. "Don't—you could choke if it all comes back up."

Ember smiled grimly. "At least it would be beautiful."

"Em, vomit is never beautiful. Never."

"The stars, I mean." She sighed. "I'm going to die here, aren't I?"

Acton kept a hand on her shoulder, but she felt him as he rolled away from her. "We're all going to die here, eventually."

The waves were so loud, and the grass started to glow a faint blue. Ember tried to roll onto her back again, protesting, but Acton rolled her back.

"Don't fight it. Just sleep it off."

"You make it do that?"

"It's my hypnotism, but it's your dream," he said quietly. "You see what you want to see, which is often fairies and glowing things. You're not very original, but whatever does it for you."

"What did you do?"

Acton paused. He sat up, scanning the forest and the ocean. He didn't like being so close to the water, because sounds didn't carry well from the water to the air. Asher had caught him off guard that way too many times. But the loud sound usually discouraged her talking, and made her sleep faster.

"Acton?"

"What do you mean?"

"You said you did something unspeakably evil." She yawned. "What did you do?"

"I said that I had been accused," Acton replied. "And by very virtue of the word 'unspeakable,' we will not be speaking of it, now or ever again."

She coughed a little, and Acton reached over to be sure she wasn't on her back again.

"Is that why she hates me?" she asked. "Did I do something unspeakable"

"No."

"But if she won't talk about it—"

"Em, you didn't do anything. Not that I know of, anyways."

After a long silence, he was almost sure that she was finally surrendering. But then she suddenly flopped onto her back, and he allowed her to turn to face him when he realized she wasn't going to stop until he let her.

"Everything's going to be alright for us, isn't it?" she asked. Her eyes were glassy and her breath was sour from all of the alcohol. "There's forgiveness for people like us, Acton. There's forgiveness for people that can't be loved."

He sighed, and fought the urge to roll his eyes. He tried to keep his voice soft and touched. "Everything will be alright."

She didn't speak again. After a while, she curled up on her side on the patch of grass he had laid her on. It was always a challenge to find an appropriate spot to lay her on this part of the island. The ground was covered in rocks, except for the soft and muddy areas where there weren't enough rocks to raise a body off of the spring-permeated ground. The large ones left bruises on her body when she laid on them wrong, but it was better than when she laid in a puddle for most of the night. The shivering was incessant, and the second time her lips had gone so blue that he had taken her back to Zinny's house and wrapped her in towels and blankets until she had stopped and returned to a normal color.

He left her in the forest that night, exhausted and sore, and eventually Ethel had found her and carried her home. He didn't dare take her back himself—it was one thing to taunt the Gillespies, but quite another to spit in their faces. When Gina came for him, it would be because she had decided to end his life, and not because he had forced her hand.

That was when he had started keeping blankets and clothes hidden around in plastic bags in the grass. When he could get her out of the wet clothes fast enough, she didn't shiver for nearly as long.

He laid back down next to the soft sounds of Ember's breathing. He had sworn that the night that she had mistaken his interest for actual affection and kissed him would be the last time, but he found himself cursing everything from the cool breeze to God as he found himself slowly inching up next to her again.

She was warm. Not as warm as the spring, or nearly as hot as the fires that Gina set to execute offenders. When he laid next to her, he liked the soft warmth that came off of her. It made him want to put his hands inside her stomach the way he had seen Zinny hold her hands in the warm oven when she baked. He had never understood the expression of pure bliss on her face when she did it.

He understood it now. He also understood that he couldn't put a bloody, steaming hole in Ember's stomach without killing her. If she died, the warmth would be gone forever.

But his moods were like the tide, and what went out eventually came back. Like all demons, he was a slave to his mood, and he knew fighting it would only make it worse.

Killing Ember was not what he wanted to do. For now, at least.

Chapter 20

The Gillespie residence was dark and quiet. In the still pre-dawn glow, there were no lights on in the windows, and there was no noise from the kitchen.

She hadn't woken up when he carried her back, and when he set her down on the doorstep, it didn't register that he was becoming particularly bold. He was gone again before she could even yawn, sitting in a dew puddle on the wooden stoop before the front door. When she stood up, wiping her wet hands off on the front of her pants, she realized that Acton hadn't taken her back to the bar to change. It meant that she would need to go straight to the shower when she went in, and find something to do with the clothes.

In her groggy stupor, the idea of the window came to her mind. Acton would come to her window during the day, so if she put the clothes out on the sill, he was sure to find them. Looking straight up the side of the house, the depth of the sky nearly made her fall over backwards. She still didn't know how he was getting to the window, whether it was flying, climbing, levitation...

Reeling forward and gripping the doorknob, Ember clutched at her stomach as a wave of nausea overtook her. She nodded her head furiously as it passed, hoping that Gina had made something good for breakfast. She was only eating twice a day now, once at the bar at night and breakfast in the mornings, and the alcohol and hypnosis always made the cramps worse.

Turning the knob and stepping inside the house, and even in the still, dead dark, Ember knew there was something wrong.

It was a feeling, akin to what one feels when they suddenly realize that he or she is dreaming.

"Mom?"

Nothing had changed inside the house. The furniture in the living room was exactly as it had always been, and there were shoes and coats hung in the entryway. In the kitchen, there were dishes drying on a towel by the sink, ready for breakfast, exactly where Gina had left them after dinner the night before.

But all of the knives were gone. Ember ran to the stairs. "Mom! Thalia!"

They weren't in their bedroom, or in Nan's, or in the room that had formerly belonged to Ember. However, she noted that Gina had taken the mattress from Nan's room and moved it back into Ember's bedroom. She supposed that meant she was moving back into her former accommodations.

Driven by the sudden rush of adrenaline, and without regard for the smell she was likely trailing through the house, she opened every single drawer in her mother's room.

If they had left willingly, they hadn't taken any clothes with them.

She went back to her bedroom, aghast, and collapsed onto her bed. There weren't any linens on it. She was going to have to get the sheets and make the bed herself. As she adjusted her pillow under her head, her hand came back out with a small package—a note wrapped around one lone kitchen knife.

Good luck. Lock the doors. Thalia

Ember frowned miserably, holding the knife in her hand as she ran her finger over Thalia's neat scrawl. Locking the doors wasn't likely to help much, if it helped at all. It was probably something that Gina had done to make Thalia feel safe, when she hadn't ever had any real safety to offer her. Ember hadn't realized that she had taken them for granted, or how much she had counted on the safety net her mother provided.

She went downstairs and heated a bowl of soup on the stove, eating alone in the dead silence of the house. Nothing creaked or banged. No sounds of footsteps or rocks against the window made her jump. It was just Ember, sitting beneath the yellow glow of the lamp that hung over the kitchen table, vapors of soup steam drifting in front of her as she stared out the kitchen window.

Dark was turning to dawn, and with the heat and moisture of the hot soup in front of her face, all she could think about was lying with Acton next to the spring. She could remember the feel of him, pressed up next to her, and his cold breath on her cheek and whispering in her ear. She had woken with him curled around her, his cold, wet forehead pressed against the back of her neck, and his hands tucked under her shirt, splayed wide against the smooth skin on her stomach.

He must have left her to swim at some point, unless it was the steam or dew collecting on his skin. He was always cold and wet in the mornings, and his hands were clammy unless he kept them pressed against her. She was beginning to wonder if he was a reptile.

When she was done, she took her bowl and spoon to the sink and rinsed it off, and set them on a towel to dry, just the way that Gina always did. She went upstairs and got the linens for the bed, made it, and then changed into nightclothes. There was no warmth in the bed, and she knew it was because she had made it herself.

In the absence of her mother's silence, and Thalia's footsteps, quiet as a mouse creeping down the hall to check on her, she had the sinking realization that silence was all that awaited her when she left. The dream of the place that she wanted to go home to had been shattered. There was no place of warmth and noise to welcome her. She would never dream of coming back to this house.

At the age of ten, one of her teachers had gotten her a toy puppy for her birthday. She had wanted a real dog, but loved the toy all the same; she had given it a name and slept with it next to her pillow. It was the kind that ran on batteries and did a jump flip. One day, it had fallen out of her bed, and one of the legs had broken—the little dog couldn't flip anymore. It couldn't even stand right. She had kept it because it was her dog, and she couldn't throw it away like it was a piece of trash. She still loved it, but she had hidden it in a box where she couldn't see it anymore. Looking at her puppy, with its sad broken leg, only made her want to cry.

The house, and her bedroom, felt that way now. She wanted to put it in a box to keep it safe, and never have to look at it again. Having nice things was only a tragedy waiting to happen. Everything eventually broke.

Sometime later, Ember sat up and realized that Acton had left her another spider on the window ledge, with a new note tucked beneath the jar.

A friend to keep you company.

Clutching the knife to her chest, she didn't sleep at all that day. She only watched the little spider crawl and stop, and crawl and stop, feeling the seamless edges of his jar. There was no way out. Ember wanted to tell him that she wasn't going to hurt him.

She knew the only thing he would understand was being set free. She couldn't bring herself to do it; she felt too lonely.

Much later that day, with the golden slants of the day's final sunlight coming through the tiny window in the bathroom, Ember changed out of her nightclothes, filled the bathtub with water, slid in, and waited. She listened to the dead air inside the house, wondering if there had ever been any life here. Thalia's bright hope was stifled by Gina's grim reality, and everyone else was dying in the jar that was Tulukaruk.

The air knew it. It was stale, and so different from the buzz that surrounded her at school. There were bright colors in her dorm, and mementos, science projects, photographs, and the smells of food and hygiene products. None of that was on Tulukaruk, except in the false semi-dream world that the demons could make. Gina had sucked the life out of everything.

The front door creaked. He was back.

As slow footsteps climbed the stairs, she sank lower in the water. They stopped outside the bathroom.

"Em, if you're naked in there, you're going to want a towel."

Ember sat straight up in the tub, and then made a mad dash to grab a towel before he could open the door. "Asher!"

She had the towel mostly around her body when he came in wearing a grin.

"Sexy." He winked.

Ember rolled her eyes as she tucked in the towel and shoved him toward the door. "Get out, you creeper! Where's Acton?"

"Ah. I see. You intended for Acton to find you in the nude?"

He laughed as she blushed madly, shoving him until he cleared a path for her to reach the hallway.

"He's not that into you, Em," Asher said, following her slightly too close as she went to get clothes from Thalia's dresser. "Not that way, anyways. Acton only likes skin when it's cut and bleeding."

She glared over her shoulder, shutting her bedroom door firmly in his face. "Why didn't Acton come?"

"He doesn't like it here," Asher said through the door. "It freaks him out. I've never been inside this house..."

She changed in small fits and jerks, shutting the door again every five seconds as Asher turned the knob and gave it a light push. When the door stayed closed, however, she really started to panic. She yanked her shirt down over her head, folding her ears painfully in the process. She shooed her spider out the window, and then threw open the door. He was gone.

"Asher!"

"Who's room is this?"

Ember spun to see Asher gently tapping at the little mirror hung on the wall in Ethel's bedroom. When he looked over and saw Ember's wide-eyed stare, another grin spread across his face.

Ember knew something was about to happen. "Get out."

Asher looked back at the mirror, and in her mind, Ember saw it happen—the mirror was about to shatter into a million sparkling shards. But Asher frowned slightly, shaking his head as if to clear it, and put his hands firmly in his jeans pockets as he looked back at Ember.

"Ethel's room?"

Ember nodded. Asher nodded back. He went to the other door—Gina's room—and cracked it open, peering inside. Shutting the door, he looked back at Ember, and then a loud clap made her jump. Asher was gone.

Heart racing, Ember looked over the railing and down the stairs, and was checking Ethel's room again when Gina and Thalia's bedroom door popped open. Asher came out, sighing in satisfaction.

Looking at him, and then at the bedroom door, Ember gave Asher a sidelong gaze. "What just happened?"

"Nothing." Asher smiled. "Let's go. Acton's waiting."

Turning to him, Ember closed her eyes, shaking her head. "Acton doesn't...he's not..."

"Acton has only ever had one other, that I know of." Asher crossed his arms. "Still does, to hear her tell it. She's not too happy about you."

Ember felt her face go red. She hadn't ever considered that Acton had a girlfriend, or what she would think about the time Ember was spending with him. She hadn't even considered him a friend, let alone anything more, until just recently. Seeing as she couldn't remember so much of their time together, the relationship was complicated. "She thinks—I'm not—"

Asher held up a finger to her lips. "Hush hush, Em. Acton is waiting, and it doesn't really matter what anyone else thinks. Acton's going to do what he's going to do. You don't want to do your hair, or put on makeup or something?"

Ember swallowed, shaking her head. "I haven't really got any."

Raising a hand to stroke an imaginary goatee, Asher flashed her another smile. "No matter. Let's just go."

He grabbed her hand and started for the stairs.

"Um..."

Asher stopped, looking back at her expectantly.

"I need to eat something."

"Em," Asher said, caught between amusement and disappointment. "Come here for a moment."

He dragged her back up the stairs, and stood her in front of the bathroom mirror. Shifting uncomfortably, Ember watched her eyes dart back and forth between her reflection and Asher's.

"There's no food in here," she said flatly.

"Matter of opinion," Asher replied. "Look at yourself. Your hair is stringy."

Ember rolled her eyes. "It's not stringy. It's wet. I just got out of the bath."

"You look like a drowned rat," he corrected. "And further, you look miserable. Em, you've caught an eye that's hard to catch. Show a little pride. Or at least try to leave an attractive corpse."

She frowned at herself in the mirror. "Fine. Get me—"

Asher had placed the scissors in her hand before she could finish. She stared at them, and then looked back at him.

"I've never done this."

Snip.

She stared at the place in her hand where the scissors had been. Her eyes darted to the floor, where a lock of hair four inches long had just landed on the beige tile.

Snip, snip snip.

Ember's jaw dropped open. Her hands flew to her head. "Stop!"

Looking into the mirror, she saw that he had cut her hair into a short bob. At least, that was what it most resembled.

"You'd better let me finish." Asher laughed as he twirled the scissors in his hand. "Unless you like the mullet look."

Too surprised for words, Ember grabbed at the hair left on her head, and then grabbed fistfuls of the castoffs on the floor. They were real. He had cut off her hair.

Snip snip snip.

Ember flailed her hands around her head to stop him, and then wrenched the scissors from him. Eyes wide and jaw still hanging open, she turned back to the mirror. Her hair was uneven in places, and Asher was definitely not a stylist, but it wasn't horrible. She glared at him.

"No one will mistake you for Thalia now." He gestured at the floor. "If you want to pay Isaac back for that book, you could give him this. Now, let's go see about feeding you."

Following him down the stairs in a daze, Ember couldn't stop reaching for her hair, and shaking her head. It felt so light that she had trouble believing that a little hair could make such a difference.

In the kitchen, Asher was inspecting the contents of the cabinets and refrigerator. Ember walked up next to him.

"What did you do in my mother's room?"

"What do you think I did?"

He grabbed a pitcher of juice out of the refrigerator, and returned to the cabinets for oatmeal and a pot.

Ember cocked her head. "Something unspeakable."

"Acton's the only one who does unspeakable things around here," Asher said, flicking on the tap at the sink to fill the pot before putting it on the sink. "I just rubbed my ass on her pillow."

For the amount of disgust she felt, she also wanted to laugh. She sat down at the breakfast table. "You know, Thalia sleeps in there too."

"She's going to burn it anyways," Asher grunted. "What does one eat with oatmeal around here?"

Ember glanced over to the kitchen. Asher was picking through the pantry, which probably meant that all of the food was going to be inedible by Gina's standards. That was, if she came back.

"They eat it plain," Ember said. "Hey—where are they? Where did they go?"

"Your mother and Acton both suffer from not knowing their own strength," Asher called. "She took Thalia to a doctor on the mainland to fix her broken nose and check for a detached retina. I haven't the slightest idea where Ethel went off to, which probably means a shit storm is coming."

Ember giggled; she wasn't sure why. Thalia having a broken nose wasn't funny. "Are you making me laugh?"

"No, sweetie, that's just your dark sense of humor finally creeping out of the hole you've buried it in. Jesus. How long does oatmeal take to cook?"

Ember shook her head, going to stand next to him at the stove. The water hadn't even started to boil. Asher was looking at her expectantly.

"I don't know." She shrugged. "Ten minutes, maybe?"

Thirty seconds later, Ember was seated at the breakfast table with cold vegetable stew leftovers and a fork. Asher stood in front of her, watching her pick around the peas and carrots to get at the potatoes. "So, is my mom like a superhero or something?"

"She's a pain," Asher said lightly. "Is that a superpower?"

Ember sighed in exasperation. "You know what I meant."

"She's a hunter."

"A hunter?" Ember repeated. "Of demons? Is she saving the world?"

Asher turned his head at a slight angle, unblinking. "She's a prison warden. That's all."

"What's your crime?" Ember asked. She swallowed another glob of cold stew; it was pretty disgusting, but she was so hungry that she didn't care.

"No crime," Asher said, sitting down next to her. The gold flecks in his eyes flashed unnaturally in the incandescent light. "I came here willingly. I stay here willingly. We all do."

Ember considered for a moment, digging out and eating another potato. "I don't believe you. You've done something, or you wouldn't call her a warden."

Asher's eyes danced around her face, before his lips spread into a wide grin. "I killed several young women. I murdered them and cut them up. The law never caught me, but karma did—one of them bit me, and not in the kind of way I usually like. She infected me."

Ember set her fork down. There was a sore spot in her stomach, but she wasn't sure if it was from the cold, slimy stew or not. "Infected you?"

Raising his eyebrows, Asher nodded. "Oh, yes. I was just like you before. Well, maybe not exactly like you, because I can say small children and animals weren't fond of me. The curse straightened me out, so I suppose it isn't all bad. I felt emotions for the first time in my life after that thing took a piece out of my thigh. Ironically enough, I've preferred men ever since..."

Asher was staring at her with such intent earnest that she didn't know what to say. She wasn't sure if he was joking or not, but he wasn't smiling. He had a look in his eyes, cold and present, that occasionally flashed in her mind when she thought of Acton. When Asher let out a loud guffaw, she jumped.

"...As victims, Em." He laughed. "I prefer them as victims. But not since I came here. That's the deal—your mother is the warden, and when any other hunter comes sniffing around here looking for one of us, she vouches. It's the only place in the world where a person of my affliction can live his life without constantly looking over his shoulder, waiting for some damned self-righteous hound to come and rid the world of me."

Crossing her arms, Ember leaned back in her chair, looking up at the ceiling. "That's great. She's condoning murderers, but she can't stand the thought of living with me."

"You're a person who uses the word 'condoning' in casual conversation." Asher shook his head. Ember sneered at him. "Can you blame her? But as I said before, you shouldn't be worried about her, or anyone else. Acton makes the decisions around here, and for today, he likes you. I encourage you to accept his generosity while you have it."

"I suppose it's no use to say I don't want to go?" Ember tried.

"You want to go," Asher said with light smile. "Do you know what it is to be me, Em? To be anyone with this curse? I don't just feel my emotions. I feel yours too, and your pain, and I know you want to go, and so does Acton. You're broken and unwanted, just like the rest of us. We don't judge you for it."

"I've never killed anyone." Ember said, feeling her voice elevate to a yell.

He silenced her with a quick motion of his hand. "I didn't say you did, but don't fool yourself. Hunters are born murderers, and someday, you'll be one, too. You'll be a murderer like me, but your kind justifies it. I know you saw what was left of Joseph after Gina was through. I only said that you were unwanted. But we want you, and Acton wants you. What you want more than anything else in the world is a place to belong, and he's offering it to you. I very strongly suggest that you don't reject his offer, because Gina's already counted you a tragedy. She would be here if she thought there was anything worth protecting."

Staring at the table, Ember felt the knot in her stomach double in size; he had put it very succinctly. When Asher laid a hand on her shoulder, she almost fainted. His eyes were still cold, and lifeless. All of their eyes were that way. Ember had never seen a dead person before, but she imagined that their eyes were the same. They were always unfocused, except when they were looking right at you—it was chilling.

Ember reached for a napkin, wiping her mouth as Asher removed the stew from in front of her. She hadn't realized that her hands were shaking. "So the black stuff—what is that? Is that you, or is it like your blood, or what?"

Walking back out of the kitchen, Asher gestured for her to get up from the table. "Em, I would love to play doctor with you, but I don't think Acton would appreciate it. Shall we?"

Ember took his hand, and let him lead her back out into the dark.

Chapter 21

Asher left her standing in the middle of Main after sundown. She looked around at the ghost town of shops. The only light on the street was coming from Zinny's bar.

"Hello."

Ember lowered her eyes from the stars. It seemed that there were so many more on Tulukaruk. Acton was standing in front of her in the delta of darkness cast by her shadow cutting through the light from the bar window behind her. "Hey."

She stood in tense silence, waiting for Acton to say something. He finally cleared his throat.

"Shall we?" He took two steps forward, gesturing towards the bar.

Ember smiled, looking at her feet and shaking her head.

Acton stopped. "What?"

"Asher said that earlier." She looked back up at him. "Was that you, doing what you do? Controling him?"

"No, I don't force Asher often," Acton said, pleased that she would take an interest in his talent. "He's too unpredictable to be easily controlled, and he has a way of making me regret it."

Biting her lip, Ember put her hands in her pockets and mulled his words. It was cold out, but she wasn't going to go with him willingly until her questions were answered.

"How many times was it you?" she asked. "How many times was I talking to someone, when I was really talking to you?"

Acton sighed, running a hand over his face, and then fixing his gaze on her. "That's an interesting question. Would you trust my answer?"

She shook her head. "Probably not. I guess we'll see."

"Isaac is too wild to be in public most days. He would get himself killed if I didn't lend him some restraint," Acton said, walking closer to her. "Most of the time, you were talking to me, but not the last time when he gave you the book. Asher, on occasion. Anyone here when it suits me, and even Thalia and your mother a handful of times—lightly, of course. But never Zinny, because she would kill me." His eyes narrowed and he lifted his chin. "Also, your roommate. The little girl with the spiders, the night I convinced you to come back."

Nodding, Ember looked at the ground. She had suspected as much. Acton had always been curious about her ambivalence toward the creatures. It was one of the only things he had known about her, and he had used it as a selling point to gain her trust. "Why did you bring me back here?"

Acton crossed his arms. "Your mother said something to Thalia, about me, and I wanted to get back at her. Thalia is her world, and I knew that attacking her would push her over the edge. So—"

"So, you went and found the other daughter." She brought her hand to her face for a moment, but then crossed her arms again. Her cheek was cold, but her fingers were freezing in the light wind. "The one that she cared about less."

"Exactly." Acton gave her a nod. It wasn't exactly true, but he knew that allowing her to run with her instinct was much more convenient than explaining the truth. "Does this mean that you're going to run away now, like any sane person would?"

"What are we doing here, then?" Ember asked. "Are we friends?"

Acton smiled lightly, peaking his fingers under his chin as he started to pace. "No, not friends. We're just me, and a girl I should have killed a long time ago."

Ember shook her head and licked her lips. "Are you planning to keep me?"

"Perhaps," Acton said, stopping behind her. "But likely not. Why, would you like that? God knows you need someone to claim you, and you won't do better than me."

"But?" Ember turned around to face him.

"But you're a lot of work." Acton shrugged. "You need food, and sleep, and you're weak. You can't keep up."

Ember shook her head back and forth. "And if you won't keep me here, then my mother will send me away."

"I strongly suspect so." He leaned forward, white teeth glinting as he smiled wide. "Em, what are you suggesting?"

Ember closed her eyes; she didn't know what she was doing. It felt like she was getting ready to blow out the birthday candles and make a wish, and she was wishing for something she wasn't sure that she wanted. It wasn't something glamorous, or shiny, or amazing. She was wishing for something practical, because after everything she had been through in her life, the last several weeks—most of which she couldn't even remember—were the most memorable.

"I want roots, Acton. I want a family." She tried to slow down the words as they escaped. "I want to stay."

Acton crossed his arms, shaking his head as he looked at the ground.

"You want me to keep you," he said sharply, "until you can prove something to Gina. You only want me until she wants you. I know how psychology works."

"No." Shaking her head furiously, Ember closed the distance between them with one quick step. "I can't be with her knowing that she never wanted me. I can't have them."

"You can never have me, either." Acton shrugged, giving her a sardonic look. "It's no different. Why would you want me to keep you?"

"You've been kind to me. No one's ever been kind to me unless I lied to them or they were getting paid."

"I haven't, and even though you don't remember, I think you know that's true. You feel it in your heart, and I see it in your eyes."

"You've been kind to me in your way," Ember said forcefully. "Which is more than I can say for Gina."

In the silence that followed, Ember felt proud of herself for the first time since she had arrived. If there had been crickets, they would have been chirping, but in their absence, there was only quiet.

Acton took a breath in to speak before he responded. "I'll agree with you on that point. But why should I keep you?"

She knew she didn't have anything to offer to him, other than the torture he could inflict on the Gillespie household, and even that was waning. Gina had all but renounced her.

"Because..." Ember tried to choose her words carefully. "Because, if you do me this favor, I'll do anything you want. I've seen enough to know that you take care of your...your..."

"Go on," Acton said stoically, and Ember knew that she was on thin ice. She didn't know if it was appropriate to call Acton's accomplices friends or colleagues. His own definition of them seemed to change with his needs.

"You take care of Isaac," Ember said, taking a moment to breathe.

"He's my brother, and he serves a purpose," Acton replied. "It's different."

Ember shook her head; she was losing ground. "I don't serve a purpose?"

"You did." Acton was starting to sound bored. "But it's done. I don't have a use for you unless I turn you, and Gina's made her stance on that clear. If I turn you, she'll kill you. I have no use for a confused little girl. You should go back to school. Meet someone, get married, and have kids—make your roots that way. You know what I am, and what I enjoy, Em. I saw your face when Kaylee's fingers fell off, and you saw mine. Why would you want to kept by someone like me?"

He laughed as he said the part about her marrying and having kids. He didn't believe any more than she did that she would ever live a normal life. No one loved her—not even her own mother. She had made friends, and they liked her, but it wasn't the same thing. There would never be a husband, and there would never be any children.

She pulled out the knife that she had tucked into her jeans when she changed. Thalia had left it for her protection. Acton looked down at the blade, glinting yellow between them as it caught the bar lights. To his credit, he didn't try to move away.

"If you try to cut me again—"

"Tell me what to do with it." Ember swallowed. Her throat had gone dry. "Tell me what to do with it, and I'll do it. If that's what I have to do to stay, I'll do it."

With her heart racing, she finally looked up. The expression on Acton's face took her off guard, and she had never seen him taken off guard before. He was glancing down at the knife like it was something dirty and illicit.

"That's why you should keep me," she said quickly. "Because you enjoy the pain, and even Isaac can't give this to you. Tell me what to do with the knife, Acton."

Acton looked back down at the knife she held between them, speechless. He started to shake his head, and Ember panicked. With one quick motion, she took the blade and pressed it to her wrist, dragging hard until she felt it pulled from her fingertips.

She watched her own blood run down her fingertips. It didn't even hurt. It was gushing so fast that it was falling in drops onto the ground. When she finally let her breath go, she felt faint. The air rushing into her lungs felt cold, and a ragged pain suddenly stabbed up the length of her arm. Acton was holding her head to his chest, resting his chin on her head as he quietly shushed her. Looking down at the ground, and her blood seeping into the island, she smiled at the prospect that part of her would never leave. No one could change it now.

The blade of her knife sticking out of Acton's bloodied pocket as he wrapped his hand around her wrist and squeezed. She gasped, turning her head away.

"That was a stupid thing to do..." He hissed in her ear. "Very, very stupid. Never do that again, Em."

He was using his other arm to hold her against him, or she might have tried to pull away. Asher was standing just outside the bar door, she didn't know how long he had been there. He frowned and gave her an impressed nod as the bar door slammed open, and Ember had just enough time to see that everyone had stopped to look toward the street as Zinnia Knox flowed from the door like an angry wind, followed by another woman, younger and sadder, who stayed mostly behind Zinny as she crossed her arms and yelled at Asher to disappear.

"She did it herself," Acton was saying quietly. "I'll take care of it."

Zinny stalked forward, her dark eyes made darker by a thick ring of eyeliner and mascara. "Let me see."

Acton offered her Ember's wrist. She winced, but refused to cry out, because she hadn't forgotten that she had something to prove.

"Hardly even half an inch," Acton said. He tightened his grip again, and more blood oozed out between his fingers.

"Wash it off—"

"Gina's gone. You're aware." Acton shot her an annoyed glare. "It's not like she'll notice."

Shaking her head, Zinny turned to Ember. She laid a cold hand on her hot cheek. "Are you okay, Em?"

Ember nodded. The cut on her wrist was now stinging like someone had drenched it in citrus. She forced a smile.

"I'm fine," she said finally. "It was an accident. I forgot it was in my pocket."

"She did it on purpose," Acton said, lowering his voice even further. "She seems to think I'll keep her if she starts cutting herself."

Cocking her head at him and not blinking, Zinny gave him a accusing stare. "I wonder where she got that idea?"

"You should be asking who screwed her up to make her that desperate for attention," Acton said guiltlessly. "Because that wasn't me."

Zinny withdrew her hand, giving Acton a significant look as she rubbed Ember's blood between her fingers. She held her soiled hand out and away from the ornate orange and copper dress she was wearing. The slack frown on her face, coupled with her meticulously makeup, made her look like she had smelled something rotten.

"Anything else?" Acton finally snapped.

Her expression hardening, Zinny lifted the hem of her dress to wipe her hand on the pale petticoat beneath. "Isaac was looking for you."

She dropped her skirt and turned, slowly walking back toward the bar. The woman with the pale face and the dark hair looked like she was going to be sick. She didn't bother trying to lower her voice. "Zinny, you can't just let him—"

Zinny threw up her hand to silence the woman, and she crossed her arms in disdain, allowing Zinny to take her by the shoulders and guide her back inside.

When the door had closed, Ember finally let her breath go again, and another jolt of pain shot up her arm. "Who is she?"

"No one," Acton said quietly. "An old friend of Zinny's. Did you just try to slit your wrist?"

"I'm not leaving." Ember sucked in more air. She had realized that it would hurt, but she didn't know that it would set her whole arm on fire. "You can't make me, and she can't make me."

"I can," Acton said firmly. "And I will."

"You won't," Ember said, taking a step back from him to look him in the eye. "Because you brought me back here. My family—what I thought was my family—that was my life, Acton. That was the only dream I had, and you killed it. I'm here. You're responsible for me, and that's kind of messed up, but that's all I've got right now until I've figured it out."

Acton frowned. "I'm not a contingency plan."

"And I'm not disposable."

"You are," Acton said quickly. "Your mother did it. I can too."

"Fine." Ember looked at the ground, biting her lip. She had accepted it, and it didn't upset her anymore. "Fine. But it's my life. It's mine to throw away."

Acton fixed his angry gaze on her, and glanced down to grab her wrist again. The bleeding had slowed, but there were still slow drips of blood falling onto the dirt between them. He sighed, letting her hand drop back to her side.

"Fine." He turned his head, and a moment later, Isaac came out. "But only until I decide that you'll leave."

Well aware that neither of them had conceded anything, Ember nodded as Acton turned around to face his brother. Isaac gave him a quick nod and kept on walking, giving Ember a wide berth.

For the second time that evening, Ember saw Acton's brow furrow in confusion as he twisted around to watch Isaac walk past them.

"Isaac," he said calmly. Isaac stopped and turned around, glancing quickly at Ember's face before his eyes landed on her wrist and her blood-soaked pants leg. His eyes went wide and he shoved his hands in his pockets, forcing his gaze back to Acton's general direction. "Zinny said you were looking for me. Was there something you needed to tell me?"

Isaac's head wobbled more than shook. "No."

He turned back around, and continued walking away down Main. When his form had finally become lost in the trees next to the antique shop, Ember saw that Acton hadn't twitched a muscle since Isaac had stood before them.

"That was weird," she said. "Even for Isaac—"

With a gesture reminiscent of Zinny's, Acton held his hand up. "Zinny wouldn't lie to me, and Isaac can't. Something's going on."

Chapter 22

As Ember sat on a crate in the backroom of Zinnia Knox's bar, she bit her lip, wondering if she was happy. Acton and Zinny were standing in front of her, arguing. He wouldn't let Ember leave, not even to go to the bathroom, unless he went with her. He had followed her and washed her blood from his hands before taking her wrist and cleaning it under the tap. She cradled the wound in her lap, wrapped in a clean, scratchy bar towel. The noise was comforting, even as the two demons snapped and hissed at each other.

"I'll take her back to the house," Zinny snipped. "It'll be fine—she'll be safe."

"She isn't any safer with you than she would be with Isaac." Acton paced back and forth in front of her.

"You don't trust me?" Zinny asked, sneering and tearing up at the same time. Her sad eyes turned on Ember. Her mascara was threatening to run.

"I trust you," Ember offered. She didn't, really.

Zinny smiled warmly, squaring her shoulders as she turned back to Acton. "You can't hunt it down while you're dragging her along..."

"Hey!" Ember yelled.

"...Let me take her back to the house, and you can go and do what you need to do." She gave him a winning smile.

Acton's lips twitched just barely. He allowed Zinny a moment to believe he was considering her offer. "No, she's staying with me."

"She's dressed like a whore!" Zinny protested. Ember looked down at the blouse and jeans that Acton had picked for her out of the things Kaylee had procured. They were easily the most modest things in the stash. "Let me dress her. I'll fix her hair, too. Asher shouldn't have done that."

Ember's fingers moved to her hair. She had almost forgotten.

"Her hair is fine," Acton snapped.

"So you're going to drag her along to look for a newcomer?" Zinny crossed her arms. "You'll get her killed. I won't allow it."

"Either you or Isaac just lied to me," Acton said, his eyes narrowing. "Anyone who could make that happen is dangerous. I'm not trusting anyone until he's dead."

Zinny's eyebrows raised in insult. "You're so sure it's a he? Because a woman couldn't possibly have pulled this off?"

Acton smirked as he gestured for Ember to rise. "It's a he because if it were a she, Asher would already know she was here. Asher always knows when there's a new she on the island."

As Acton led her out the back door and Zinny went back to the front, pouting, Ember examined her blouse and pants again.

"Do I really look like a whore?"

Acton didn't look at her, keeping his eyes on the woods. "I don't keep whores, Em."

"You keep Kaylee," she replied, cringing as soon as the words left her lips. She had never called another woman a whore before.

Acton laughed as he looked down at her. "But only for Isaac's sake. Very good, Em. I like you."

"She's not a whore."

Ember spun around. Isaac was standing behind them, gaunt and twitchy as he usually was, with a dark look in his eyes.

"I didn't lie to you." His lip curled as if the thought were disdainful.

"You did." Acton stood up straighter, and Isaac immediately shrunk back. "But you won't do it again. Tell me what you see."

Isaac looked him in the eyes, and his curled lip suddenly transformed into a pleased smile. The circles under his eyes darkened as he lowered his chin, and his eyes darted around the street. "Everyone. Everyone who should be here, and..."

"And?" Acton pressed. "And what?"

Isaac's eyes wandered, and then focused on Acton again. "What?"

"What else do you see?" Acton's voice carried a cold edge of annoyance.

Isaac's eyes flashed as he blinked away confusion and worry. "And nothing, Acton. Nothing. What are we doing?"

Acton stared at him. His hand clenched into a fist, and Ember took several steps backward, frowning as a low whimper escaped Isaac's throat. Acton raised his fist, and then sighed as he released it and gripped Isaac's shoulder instead.

"Nothing," Acton said quietly. "Go find Ash. The two of you stay together tonight. If you see anything odd—and I mean anything—I want you to tell him immediately."

Isaac nodded uncertainly, and breathed a sigh of relief when Acton finally let him go and turned back to Ember. Isaac disappeared in a blink.

"What he sees?" Ember asked with a frown.

"Isaac is clairvoyant. There are a lot of people with gifts here," Acton said dismissively. He started to walk back around to the front of the bar. "We're going to show everyone that you're one of mine now, and we're going to wait for Joseph to come and find us."

Ember paused, furrowing her brow, before taking several quick steps to catch back up with him. "Who the hell is Joseph?"

"An old friend," Acton smiled as he glanced back over his shoulder at her. "The man who's supposed to be dead in Gina's fire pit, but who is apparently more clever than we all assumed, because I think Isaac noticed him hanging around, but he can't seem to remember that he did."

He held the door open for her, and she stepped inside. The long looks that people gave her whenever she appeared at Acton's side in the bar hardly bothered her anymore. She was someone worth remembering to them, and she loved it. She gave a cursory glance around the room before turning back to her escort.

"Is he dangerous—?"

The feeling of Acton's lips pressed against her own caught her off guard. She shoved him hard, but he held her firmly against him until she turned her head away to break the kiss, and then looked back at him in shock, raising an arm to wipe at her mouth. His breath was foul, like mold and rot, and when she looked at him, he was looking away across the room.

She followed his gaze to a pale woman with the dark hair. It was the same woman who had stood with Zinny earlier that night. Even as disgusted as she was, Ember understood. Now, they all knew that she was one of Acton's, and no one would threaten her. No one was looking at them now as they pretended to go about their own business, except for the pale woman with the dark hair. With a chilling realization, Ember remembered seeing her face before, reflected on a plastic garment bag.

"She was one of yours," Ember said quietly, knowing full well that as Acton was staring at the woman, the woman was staring at Ember. "She was your girlfriend."

Acton's gaze stayed fixed on the woman, whose eyes followed them as they walked to their table at the rear of the bar. When they sat down together, Acton gave her a light smirk as he ran his fingers lightly through Ember's hair. The woman stood up from the table where she had been sitting alone, and walked slowly to the door.

"I told you," Acton said idly. "I don't keep whores. Bear that in mind."

Distracted by her own thoughts, Ember hardly heard him. "I saw her once—that time I was changing, and I saw someone behind me, I mean...I didn't see her that long or that well, but her hair—"

"It was her," Acton said, frowning as he turned his gaze back to the door. "But it won't be a problem anymore. I'll take care of it."

Dumbfounded, Ember looked back at him, and he met her gaze straight on.

"You just kissed me," she said. "And your breath stinks. Don't do it again."

"If the others thought we were just friends, they might have still considered you fair game as a romantic conquest. I'm doing you a favor," he said with another shrewd smile. "I'll kiss you when I want to. I mark my territory as needed—if you can't deal with it, then you get to leave. You're willing to cut yourself, but kissing me is too far?"

He winked. Ember glowered.

"Well," she grumbled, sinking lower in her chair as he put his arm around her. "Consider brushing your teeth. What did she do to you? What's her name?"

"She doesn't have one," Acton said quickly, raising his hand to wave at Zinny. "And what she did doesn't matter."

Zinny gave Ember a small wink as she set down two glasses and a bottle of schnapps, and then walked away. Acton poured with his free hand, and then set a glass in front of Ember.

"Drink it."

Ember glanced up at him uncertainly. "I really don't enjoy throwing up."

"I enjoy it," Acton said firmly.

Ember shook her head. "Well, that's kind of gross..."

Acton scoffed. "Demons aren't called demons because they're pleasant, Em. I like your pain, and your depression, and you have plenty. I'm not keeping you to do you a favor. I'm keeping you to do me a favor. Tonight I'm upset by news of Joseph, and I'm looking for a hit. Hit me."

Staring at the glass, Ember was still shaking her head a little. It made sense. He must have enjoyed her company immensely, and she suddenly understood why he had been waiting for her every day, and what he was getting out of it.

"You were going to keep me anyways," she said with a wry smile. "Because I'm screwed up."

With a pleased smile, he gave her a light hug, whispering in her ear. "I was hoping to chase you away, just to make you miserable when I decided to keep you as my prisoner. But you like being miserable too much to leave, so this has worked out better than planned."

She stared at the wood grain on the table. "So..."

"So drink this." He took the glass of schnapps and put it in her hand. "And tell me about the time your roommate found the birthday card."

"What?" Ember hissed, using both hands to hold the glass. She suddenly felt weak knowing that she had shared such a personal and painful memory with him. He wanted her to relive it for his amusement.

"You know who I mean. You told her you were an orphan, and then you ripped up the card." He paused. "It had a picture of a kitten on the front."

Ember frowned at the schnapps in front of her, suddenly wanting to drink the glass, and the bottle, and anything else she could persuade Zinny to give her. A lump was rising in her throat. Acton gave her shoulder another squeeze, but it wasn't to encourage her or prompt her to speak—it was gentle, as though he wanted her attention.

When she looked over at him, all of the glee had left his face. His eyes were dark, and when his mouth opened just slightly and his eyes closed, she knew he wasn't going to apologize.

He wasn't going to apologize, but he was sorry.

Ember slowly raised the drink to her lips, swallowing as quickly as she could. It burned as it went down, and she felt tears sliding down her cheeks, but she didn't stop. When Acton reopened his eyes, a disturbingly serene look was on his face.

"She had lost her textbook, or something," Ember started, wiping her face on her sleeve. "She was looking in my closet, and she shouldn't have been in there, but—"

Acton's frown deepened, and he leaned in close to her, whispering in her ear. "Just be quiet. I already know the story. I already know all of your stories, so just be quiet."

He refilled her glass. He pushed her head down to rest on his shoulder, and despite her humiliation, she let him.

Much later that evening, Acton stood in front of Zinny's bathroom mirror, examining the contents of her medicine cabinet. She was a vain and beautiful woman. She knew things about grooming oneself that even the most self-obsessed demons didn't, because she still cared about others.

The cabinet, and the surface of the bathroom counter, were overflowing with products to tame hair, to eliminate body odors, to change the color of things, to remove hair, or to do god knew what else. He sifted through the mess carefully, trying not to disturb Zinny's messy order, except to take the things he needed.

Rotting meat left an unmistakable odor. Corpses smelled strongly, and they drew every predator in a wide radius. That included demons and hunters. The gases emitted by the decomposing flesh were said to be highly unpleasant for humans, although he himself had never known them to be anything more than a smell that clung to the breath of every demon he had ever known.

Ember wasn't the only one who had eaten flesh off of the rabbit bones in the last several weeks, although she had been the only one who had tolerated it poorly. The bones and flesh were still sitting cold in Acton's stomach, where they would remain until his slow digestion had taken all it could. Usually, it was everything. He had overexerted himself several times in the passion of his youth, spending weeks in a bloated stupor to wait for his system to catch up with him, or else sneaking away to the edge of the water to cough up what he had taken that he didn't need—blood and crushed bone coming up like black and gray rotten hamburger while Isaac knelt next to him, watching and silent, and little Rachelle laughed.

She had only laughed at him once.

He knew it took a long time for the solids to decompose. They were still in there, rotting and stinking.

Carefully, he fetched a half-empty container of mouthwash from amid Zinny's mess, and then found an old used toothbrush and a new tube of toothpaste beneath the sink. It had probably been used once, or a few times, by one of Zinny's many paramours, but it didn't bother him. He didn't even bother to rinse it.

Kneeling over the shower drain, he drank as much water as he could, and then proceeded to empty what he could of his stomach into the pipes. It was a tedious, unpleasant business, but one that had to be done. He didn't need all of those rabbits, and there would always be more. They were preventing him from accomplishing what he wanted to accomplish, and that meant they had to go.

When the last bits of them had gone down the drain, he brushed as thoroughly as he could, and then swallowed several gulps of the mouthwash. He wiped his face with a hand towel, and then discovered a glob of black meat stuck to his shirt. Frowning, he took it off and tossed it into one of Zinny's hampers before going back down the hall.

Ember was lying on the floor in his bedroom. He didn't know why Zinny called it a bedroom, but she did. She was the only demon in the house to keep a bed, and she hardly ever slept in it. Watching Ember's sleeping form, curled into a fetal position on her side in a nest of blankets and clothes that he had thrown down as an afterthought, he supposed he might need to get a bed for her sake.

The house was empty now, and probably would be until dawn. Zinny liked to cook breakfast for herself, and all of her fancy foods were at the house. He had told Asher and Isaac to stay away for the evening.

Acton sighed, lying down next to Ember. She groaned. Four glasses was probably too much, but she talked too much when she was sober. He liked listening to her stories much more than he liked avoiding her questions, but it was hard to illicit one without the other.

Her eyes fluttered open for a moment, her gaze rolling around the room before settling on Acton.

"Staying with me tonight?" She yawned. "No spider?"

"No spider," he said quietly. She was already gone again, but it didn't matter. He examined her face, and laid one hand on her cheek. This time, it was her breath that reeked of apple schnapps and stomach acid.

Slowly, he brought his lips to meet hers, just for a second, and then moved away again, pausing to consider the experience. It wasn't the kiss that he enjoyed. Rather, it was more accurate to say he didn't enjoy it any more or less than just having her near. He liked her smooth skin, and the smell of her, and the soft warmth that she produced, like she had Gina's fire hidden inside of her.

The feel of his hands on her skin made him calm in a way that he had only rarely experienced before. He rolled her back onto her side in case she threw up, and carefully worked his hands under her shirt, pulling her back to his stomach in the mess of shirts and blankets around them.

With his hands flat on her stomach, absorbing the heat from her, he didn't ever want to leave, and he didn't know why. She was only a girl, one of Gina's girls, who would doubtless have a great desire to see him in an inferno someday. But for now, she was just a girl. He wondered if he could find another girl like her, but he doubted it. Other girls would have drowned, or choked, or become witless at the sight of some of the things she had been through, but not this girl.

She had something to prove. She was magic, and warmth, and Acton was almost sure that he would still want to feel her pressed up against him the day she took a knife to him on purpose.

Zinny had often insisted that he was still very young, and he had spent his whole life trying to act older. He was more powerful than almost everyone he had ever met, and the restraint and responsibility had aged him. Maybe it was only a vicarious thrill, but Ember had a way of making him feel his youth.

Running his fingers through her hair, he wondered how long she would survive on the island, and if he should worry about Asher. Isaac was the more likely threat—he had killed more people unintentionally than anyone else on the island, and it was only by Acton's cleverness that he stayed out of Gina's fire. But there were the others, and the strangers. Humans never stayed long on the island. They could sense the danger.

Ember, however, wasn't fully a human, and she was attracted to dangerous things. Her inability to protect herself was likely going to bring about the end of the short and painful story of her life.

Leaning in to smell her hair, Acton wondered if that was what intrigued him—she wanted to get burned as badly as he did. She wanted the end, but it wasn't likely that any demon on the island would stay her execution the way that Gina had stayed his.

She was going to find her ending, with or without his assistance, so he curled up around her as tightly as he could, enjoying the feel of her next to him. He wasn't going to waste the opportunity to enjoy her while she was still warm.
Chapter 23

"Where were you last night?"

Acton looked up very slowly; Asher knew very well where he had been. He just wanted to make him say it out loud.

"I was with Ember," he said plainly. "Here."

"Doing what?" Asher leaned back against the kitchen counter, crossing his arms. "Screwing her?"

"Yes."

"Liar." Asher sighed, throwing his hands in the air before taking a seat at the table across from Acton. "Acton, what are you doing? You've picked a very inconvenient time to start acting your age, and it's annoying."

Acton turned his slow gaze on Asher, staring just long enough to make his brother shift uncomfortably. He stood back up from the table. "Acting my age?"

Asher's lip curled just a little, but then he snorted. "You've finally found a girl you want to chase, and you have no idea how to go about it, so instead you're wasting time while Joseph is out there jacking around with everyone. Half of them don't even know what day it is, because you're too obsessed with your new plaything to care." He leaned against the refrigerator and made a mocking gesture with his hands. "Zinny is just over the moon with how cute it is, and Isaac has so jealous I'm surprised he hasn't taxodermied her into a—I don't know—an end table, or a freaking chandelier, or something. You're children. Both of you."

"So?"

"So," Asher said with force, "you built an empire here. Being the king comes with responsibilities. You don't have time for a teenage courtship right now."

Acton walked to the window, trying not to let Asher catch a glimpse of his uncertainty. He was very perceptive, and not for the first time, Acton found that he was jealous of Asher's experience. Asher knew what came next in the pursuit, and even young and naïve, Ember seemed to know, too. "What do I do?"

"Just screw her already." Asher's voice was filled with exasperation. "And then move on. You won't be half so interested when she's turned hunter like Gina, so just do what you have to do and move on with your life."

Acton swallowed, and tried to stop himself from shaking his head. Asher was wrong. She was nothing like Gina. She was nothing like Delia, either. "She's going to be around for a while."

"Fine." Asher nodded, wiping his hands compulsively on the front of his shirt. "Do what you want. But this is weird, even for you. If you're not going to screw her, just go back to Delia and get it out of your system—"

Without another word, Asher stopped, turned, and walked from the room. Frowning, Acton went back to sit at the table as he continued looking out the window. He had known for some time that people found his hobbies unusual. It had never bothered him before, and it didn't bother him now. Asher had made it evident that he was bothered by his interest in Ember Gillespie. What bothered Acton was that he was bothered by his interest in Ember Gillespie.

Asher came walking back through the door, straightening his shirt and pursing his lips as he glared.

"You know I don't like that, Acton," he said, walking back to the table. "You don't want me stealing Isaac's toys again, do you?"

Acton's eyes flicked up. He sat back in his chair. "Isaac is over what you're doing with Kaylee. He thinks she's in on it. He doesn't care, and neither do I."

"He's smart." Asher crossed his arms and lifted his chin, but his frown showed the dent in his ego. "Maybe I should aim higher, then."

"Touch her, and you'll never see it coming, Ash," Acton said with a serious frown. "I'll let you do it, and I'll let you get away. I'll wait for some day when you aren't expecting it, when you think I've forgiven you, and I will skin you alive and give your hide to Isaac. He'll probably make a quilt out of you. Then I'll take whatever is left, and—"

"Yes, yes, I get the picture, but I hardly take it seriously. You forgave me for Delia." Asher sat down. When Acton didn't respond, he sat back in quiet contemplation. "But Delia was a whore. Who is Ember Gillespie to you?"

Acton closed his eyes, shaking his head. Asher was amongst the most merciful demons he had ever met; it was a subtle irony of the universe, given his sordid first life. He hadn't been able to bring himself to kill a girl since he had turned, except for the ones that reminded him of the girl who had bitten him. He let them go. Acton had asked him why once, and he said that the guilt was too much. He saw his victims in his quiet moments, screaming, and pleading, and they haunted the faces of the living.

"She's no one," Acton insisted, looking sharply back at him.

Asher stared at him, and nodded. His joking smile fell into a careful expression of indifference as he slowly rose from the table. He brought his hand to his face again, and then dropped it back to his side as they both looked up to toward the stairs toward the noise. She was awake.

"Is there anything I can get for you?" Asher asked. He looked back at Acton, taking a deep breath, and trying not to shake his head. "Or for her?"

He didn't know who Ember was to him, or why he enjoyed her so much.

"No," he said. "Just keep Zinny away from the house today."

Lying still on her side, pretending to sleep, Ember didn't hear when the door opened, but she felt the air move. She knew Acton was standing behind her.

"I know you're awake," he said quietly. "You should take a shower."

Shuffling in the mess on the floor, Ember rolled over to face him. Her eyes fell on the rolled up pair of pants that had been her pillow, and she picked up a sock and stared at it. "Did I sleep in a pile of dirty laundry last night?"

Acton's eyes moved around the room before he sighed and nodded. "Yes."

She groaned, blinking as the light from the hallway struck up the headache that came with her every hangover. "Where am I?"

"This is my house." He came into the room, kneeling down in front of her to help her sit up with her back against the wall. "I do most of my living out there, but this is where Zinny keeps our things. We each have a room, and this one is mine."

"You don't have any furniture," she said pointedly.

Acton looked at her and smiled ironically. "You don't even have a room. You don't even have a house, or a family."

Shrugging and nodding, Ember held her face in her hands. Her head was throbbing now, but at least she didn't feel sick. Acton's eyes wandered over her, wondering how long it would take before she felt well again.

He had never come to identify with a victim the way that Asher could, but he had turned several against their own families. He could hardly believe that she was in his bedroom. Having stolen her all the way from across the country, she was sitting in his bedroom. She believed that they were friends. Gina had practically gone crazy, disowned her, and then been banished from her own island.

It was beyond spectacular. Acton smiled; he had outdone himself, even if he hadn't planned half of it.

"Come here." He leaned in to wrap his arms around her, and she wrapped hers around his neck as he helped her to her feet. "Come on. You need to shower. I'll find something for you to eat."

He helped her to the bathroom, and got her towels. When he returned from Zinny's bathroom bearing a selection of shampoos, soap, and conditioner, she smiled feebly at him from where she was sitting on the edge of the tub. She looked so weak and tired, almost as though she was about to fall backwards into the bathtub, but she smiled at him.

Acton hadn't realized that he had paused. He set down the things that he had brought, and turned to go.

"Acton..."

He stopped in the door, looking over his shoulder.

She was running her fingers through her hair, trying to brush it out as she gripped the edge of the counter to stand. Unbuttoning her jeans with her other hand, she looked over at him again and smiled, shaking her head.

"Thank you. Thank you for taking care of me."

"You're welcome." He closed the door behind him.

The water was sobering. She let it run hot over her face and body, wondering what it meant to become one of Acton's favored few. He had given her a look, just before he closed the door, glancing down as she had started to undress. It hadn't been wanton. He was curious.

A boy had never looked at her that way before. She had never known any boys well enough that they would stop looking out of respect, even if they wanted to keep looking.

She washed her hair, wondering what her future held. For the first time in weeks, she was oddly hopeful that it might not be awful, or that at least she wouldn't be alone. She might return to school, or she might not. Her fate was in Acton's hands now, and though the thought made her smile grimly, it was a comfort not to have to make the decisions herself.

Wrapping herself in a towel, she realized that she didn't have any clean clothes to change into. Still wrapped in her towel, she wandered down the stairs.

"Acton?"

She peered around the corner into the kitchen, but no one was there. She turned in the other direction, walking into the living room. There was a large sofa, and a love seat situated around a big screen television, but they were the only items in the room that looked new. Everything else was old but maintained—the house was furnished with antiques.

Acton was standing by the window. The trees had been cut back to allow for a rough perimeter around the house.

"Acton?" she asked, timidly stepping up next to him when he didn't look at her or respond. After glancing uncertainly at his face, she readjusted her towel and followed his gaze out onto the rough between the house and the trees.

"Joseph is smarter than I thought he was. I thought he would come for me by now," he said quietly. Looking over at Ember, he smiled. "I thought he would come for you by now."

"Me?" she asked, scanning the trees again. She squinted, trying to see further in the dark, but it was no use. "Why would he want me?"

"Jealously." Acton turned and walked back into the living room, gesturing for Ember to sit next to him on the couch. "The two of you were in it together, for my amusement. You were my favorite, and that's a reason to be jealous. You were his favorite, too, but you picked me, and that's another reason to be jealous."

"I picked you?" Ember's eyebrows rose. She wasn't entirely sure she wanted to know what Acton was talking about. She knew she was missing time, but she had only recently started to realize how much was gone.

"I did terrible things to you." He leaned back, bringing a hand to his lips as he looked away across the room. "You were willing to go further than most people I've ever met. You were so desperate for the attention, and you're stronger than I thought." He leaned forward again, and Ember shifted uncomfortably, tightening her towel. "But those days are done. How did you sleep?"

He reached to touch her face, but she turned away, glancing back at him hesitantly when she realized that he might perceive it as an insult. Acton dropped his hand, and his eyes, looking at her legs for a moment before rising from the couch to pace back to the window.

Her heart was pounding as she stared at the elegant gold inlay on the coffee table, the ghost of Acton's hand brushing her cheek sending goose bumps across her flesh. She wasn't sure if it excited her or frightened her.

Realizing that she wanted to know, she looked over at him, preparing to speak.

"I'm sorry for the things I did to you," Acton said quietly. Ember closed her mouth. "I won't say it again, but I mean it. It's important that the others see me in a particular light. And I know that you're afraid of dying in a cage. I promise you that I won't cage you. You can leave here whenever you choose to, and I will let you go. But I want you to stay, and I will take care of you." He turned back to her. "I'm not going to change. I'm not going to become a kind person, or even a good one. I'll never ask you to change. I will always want you, even though you're broken. I like you that way."

Wide-eyed and taken off guard, all Ember could do was give him a curt nod. "Okay."

"Will you stay?" he asked, his jaw clenching.

Ember licked her lips, looking back down at the coffee table, and then quickly back up at Acton. She tried to smile, but it didn't feel right. There was only one answer, because she had nowhere else to go. "Yes. Yes, I'll stay."

He didn't smile. Returning her nod, he went to turn back to the window.

"But—"

He looked back to her. His stare was as intense as ever, and his eyes were still dead. They were like the eyes on a rabid dog, staring down a threat.

"What did you do to me?" Her voice was a whisper. "And what did you do to make Gina hate you so much?"

He considered her question for a moment, weighing how much he wanted her to know, and then went back to sit with her on the couch. He was careful not to sit too close.

"I took away your innocence, and your trust, and your life. I pretended to be your friend, and I was never your friend. I'm only your superior." He hoped that she didn't want the particulars. "You'll never be naïve again, and you'll never be the same. But in return, I'm giving you a family, and I'll watch over you, and that's everything you've ever wanted. As to your second question, I did the same thing that you did to make your mother hate you so much. I did nothing."

Ember nodded. He hadn't answered the question. "So then, what are we now?"

"You keep asking that question...The truth?" Acton raised his eyebrows. Ember nodded. "I suppose that depends on you. What do you want to be now? Zinny says she wants a daughter, but I wouldn't recommend it. Asher believes I should take you as a mate, and Isaac doesn't want you around because time I spend with you is time I could spend with him. But I don't care. I have no opinion on the matter."

He returned to his station by the window. Ember found it hard to believe that he had no preference at all. He looked at her like he wanted to touch her. Some nights, he had slept next to her. Those weren't things that one did with a friend or a sister.

"I need clothes." She held her towel carefully as she got up from the couch.

"Borrow some of Zinny's. Take whatever you want." He refused to move from the window, but he gave her a small nod. "She likes you, and she'll be honored. It's the first door at the top of the stairs."

Watching him hesitantly, Ember walked back up the stairs, and into the first door. There were clothes strewn everywhere, across every flat surface and strung over the head and foot boards of the bed. They were draped over lamps and the changing screen at the far end of the room. A red sheer scarf had been hung across the window, shading everything in scarlet, and a strong smell of mixed perfumes clung to the air. Quickly digging through the wardrobe closest to the closet, Ember picked out what she needed and retreated back to the bathroom to change.

When she went back downstairs, Acton was sitting at the table in the kitchen. Ember glanced back to the living room. "What about Joseph? Shouldn't you be...?"

"He's had all day," Acton said, as though it should be obvious. "He isn't going to come here while I'm here. He wants to catch me off guard."

"So?"

"So, I'm going to let him." He looked her over, seeming displeased with her choice of clothing, but he didn't say anything. Ember glanced down uncertainly at the jeans and sweater she had pulled from the drawers. "You're going to feed yourself, and then we'll go out to look at the stars."

"Not the bar?"

"Zinny is going to be reluctant to accept your decision to stay unless something makes it more final." Acton stood and opened several cabinets, and Ember started looking through them for something to eat. "Until then, I'm avoiding her."

She took a box of graham crackers from a cabinet, and then poured herself a glass of milk. "Do you eat?"

"Everything eats," Acton responded impatiently. "Eat your food."

"I've never seen you eat," she accused.

"Yes, you have. You said it was disgusting." He sat back down at the table. "I eat. I just don't eat this. This is all for Zinny's fetish."

With a cracker halfway chewed and partly swallowed, Ember nearly choked.

"Fetish?" she mumbled through the crumbs.

Acton looked around the kitchen, every single object contained within it unnecessary to the way that demons lived. "She eats human food."

Ember sighed in relief, finishing the cracker and then drinking her milk and digging back into the box for another cracker. "Please never refer to human food as a fetish again."

"Why not? All of my foods are fetishes to you."

Ember paused, rolling her eyes, and then looked up. Acton was smiling, and she realized that he was joking with her. She couldn't stop herself from smiling.

"What do you eat?"

Acton didn't respond.

"Tell me. I can handle it. I'm going to find out sooner or later anyways."

Acton slowly folded his hands on the table, but then conceded with another quick smile. "I suppose you will, if you can keep up. Are you ready to go?"

"You're evasive." She responded, eating another three crackers in quick succession and then finishing her milk.

"I like you better when you didn't know what was going on."

She wiped her hands on her jeans. "I'm ready."

They walked out of the house, and Acton carried her part of the way when her feet kept finding too many dips and roots on the ground. She tried to ask more questions, but Acton only gave her short, quick answers that made her believe he didn't want to talk. When they finally reached the spot by the spring, she decided to try one last time.

"You don't ever really answer my questions, do you?"

He let his hands linger on her waist for a moment longer than necessary as he set her down.

"I already know about me," he said superiorly. "I'd rather learn about you."

"So that you can use it against me?"

Acton only responded with a small smile before gently pulling her to the ground with him. It was cloudy that night, so there were fewer stars, and somehow the ground seemed soggier than usual.

"It's wet here," Ember said distastefully as the water seeped through the jeans she had borrowed from Zinny.

Without hesitation, Acton rolled her on top of himself. She stared down at him in shock, feeling their bodies pressed up against each other. She immediately pushed herself up and off of him, laughing nervously.

"I meant we should find a drier spot," she said, shaking her head. "And besides, the grass is so tall here, it's not like you can keep a good eye out for—"

"It's private," Acton said, looking slightly hurt. "And Joseph won't come here. No one comes here but me and the hunters. This is where they dump the bodies once all the life is gone."

Ember cocked an eyebrow at him. "Romantic. Thanks. Now I'm thoroughly creeped out."

As her eyes darted around the expanse of the long grass they were lying in, Acton shook his head.

"Please, Acton, take me back—"

He sat up, watching her stand and start to look around. "We'll find a different spot, but you're safe with me. If you stay, I'll answer questions for you."

Ember looked back down at him, caught between worry and curiosity. She put her hands on her hips. "How many questions?"

Standing up, Acton pushed his hands into his pockets, trying to gauge how long it would take her to get comfortable. He could be very patient when the occasion called for it. "Three. Find your spot."

He followed her around as she stepped carefully through the grass, ignoring him as he told her over and over that there were no animals hiding on the ground. After she had rejected five different locations, he finally caught her by the shoulders and turned her around to face him. Trying not to be too obvious about it, he looked her in the eyes and smiled.

The hypnotism that demons could use against people was wide and varied, depending largely upon the skill of the purveyor. Asher had managed to put Acton under a handful of times when they had first met before Acton had bested him with his own trick of stealing free will to get him to stop. After that, Asher had become his mentor in the subject. Acton had never managed to get drunk, but Zinny had once described the effect as ranging from a natural high to an artificial one, but without the hangover.

Ember had become a special case in almost every trick Acton had. It was probably because she was a hunter's daughter. He hadn't been able to take her will, even though he had managed to take Gina's a few times, and Thalia's once or twice. Ethel was difficult, but he had managed to hint her out of the house once, only to have her stop, look around like she was confused, and turn around to go back inside.

Acton had discovered that he could hypnotize her, but unlike most people, she knew very quickly when her reality was shifting. As he stared into her blue eyes, he tried to hold back enough to make it seem like she was just relaxing.

Whether she knew or not, she decided to go with it. Perhaps she was starting to trust him after all.

"Here is fine." She brushed her hair back behind her ear and smiled.

They laid down on the grass. Acton purposely didn't touch her, but she curled up close to him anyways.

"The stars are beautiful tonight."

Acton opened his mouth in confusion. It was still completely overcast. He glanced at her uncertainly, and she smiled back at him. She knew what he had done.

"Sorry." He forced an uncomfortable laugh.

She rolled over to face him, smiling. "It's okay. It's kind of nice."

As his eyes wandered over her face, he realized his opportunity had arrived.

"I wasn't lying before, every time when I said you were beautiful," he said quietly. This time, she didn't pull away when he touched her face. He pushed, just a little harder, with the hypnotism.

Ember frowned, and for a moment Acton thought she was going to withdraw. She leaned down close to him, and their lips touched, just for a moment.

"Stop doing that..." she whispered.

Acton blinked, rolling onto his side to face her. "Okay. Sorry."

He kissed her. She kissed him back. Encouraged, he put his arm around her waist and pulled her closer, right up against him. She had her hands under his shirt, exploring his stomach and chest, and he only thought it fair to return the favor. He pulled away from the kiss and slid his hands under her sweatshirt to rest on her waist, pulling her on top of him as he rolled onto his back.

She laughed as she straddled him, and he smiled in victory. She leaned back down to kiss him again.

"I really do like you," Acton said with another smile.

Ember was glowing as she smiled at him. "Let's go swimming."

She stood and took off in the direction of the water as Acton wondered exactly how hypnotized she was. Granted, he had pushed a little harder than he normally would have because he expected her to fight it. Apparently, she hadn't fought.

"Ember!" He stood and started after her, catching her just before she ran into the ocean. The water was still that night, and there was no wind. "The water's cold. You just think it's warm because you're high."

"There's a spring." Ember said lightly. "That's why there's fog here. Where does the stream go into the water?"

Acton swallowed. His heart was racing, but he didn't know why. His heart hadn't ever raced, and if he didn't know better, he would have thought that she had poisoned him.

"It's over there." He pointed. "But I don't think it's a good idea for you to get wet, because it's so cold out—"

"Screw the cold!" She was running again, and taking off her sweatshirt as she went. Acton shook his head as he went after her.

Seeing her standing nude by the water's edge, Acton stopped. In the dark, there was only the soft glow off of the thin spots of the clouds to illuminate her in filtered moonlight. Her short blond hair didn't touch her shoulders anymore, and she had crossed her arms over her chest as she took her first step into the water, gasping.

"Em!" Acton warned. He dropped his jacket and stripped as quickly as he could without damaging anything. Ember was already in up to her waist when she dropped in all the way and started to swim. Acton panicked and took off after her. "Em, it's dark!"

"You can see!" she called after him.

"It's cold!"

"It's not that cold!" she responded in exasperation.

As Acton swam closer to her, he realized that she was right; the place where the stream went into the water was warmer, but only if they stayed close to the shore. He had never bothered with the temperature of the water before, so he hadn't noticed.

"Em!" He finally caught her arm, pulling her back toward the mouth of the stream, keeping her in the channel where the water wasn't too hot or too cold. "You have a death wish..."

"I have a lot of living to do before I die," she said matter-of-factly.

"You're going to freeze when you get out."

"You'll take care of me," she said, turning to face him. "And I'm not cold now."

He thought he could see the stars in her eyes. Large and wide, she was staring right at him. He didn't even know how well she could see in the dark, but it seemed she was mostly guiding herself by touch as she lifted her hand from the water to find his face. She found his lips and kissed him again.

Feeling the beating in his chest reach an almost human pace, Acton quickly subdued the fleeting thought that he needed to stop. He had never known a demon to die of a heart attack, or anything besides a bonfire, but he had never known a demon's heart to reach such a pace, either, and it was painful. He hissed as he felt her lips on his neck.

"Em..." he said quietly. "This is the hypnotism."

She stopped, laughing quietly in his ear. "You tell me. You really think you're that good at it?"

His pride took the hit, and it didn't anger him. She pulled back to look him in the eye, suddenly seeming completely sober. He didn't answer.

She didn't seem inclined to stop, and even as the aching behind his ribs continued, he didn't really want to stop her. She had her arms around his neck, and he could feel her body pressed up against his in the water, skin on skin, as she lifted herself off the ocean floor to match his height.

He nearly lost his balance on the mossy stones, and she hugged him tighter. Kissing her neck, he looked over toward the shore and realized that they weren't alone.

He immediately turned so that Ember's back was to the shore. She was so preoccupied that he doubted she would have noticed anyway.

Creeping through the trees on all fours, a skeleton covered in a thin film of flesh was approaching the water where they had come in. He hadn't had time to properly regrow himself, and the skin was as featureless as a plastic doll; no fingernails, no hair, and no nose. Just two lidless eyes and a gaping black hole of a mouth on the face of a ghostly pale body with no fat. He scrambled toward them on all fours, like an animal.

Acton kissed her hair as Ember wrapped her legs around his waist, and he wondered how Joseph could even imagine that he stood a chance in the fight.

As the pathetic creature stopped by the water, making no effort to hide himself and waiting patiently, Acton realized that he wasn't there to fight. Joseph was offering himself back into service. Having met the hounds, he wanted protection.

For a moment, Acton considered his offer. With Joseph by his side, the games didn't have to end with Ember. He could seduce her for the first time over and over, and it was a pleasing prospect. However, Joseph hadn't been smart in not coming to him directly. He had chosen to fool Isaac instead, and that made him a liar and a threat.

Without so much as lifting a finger or blinking, Acton thought the actions into reality. Joseph went to his jacket, lying on a rock by the water, and pulled out the little canister of lighter fluid that Acton kept in his breast pocket. He lifted it over his head, and a thin stream of death came pouring down over his head and shoulders. Then he went back for the matches.

As he stood and struck it, his mouth opened wide to scream, but no sound came out. There couldn't be any sound, Acton knew, or the mood would have been broken. He finally knew what Ember was to him, and he couldn't risk losing her.

He felt a shudder run down his spine as Joseph's panic hit him. It wasn't like human panic, because there was nothing that could compare to human panic. Joseph stood still, like a mannequin, as the flames consumed his paper-thin skin. He hadn't had time to fully regenerate, or he might have been more difficult to burn. He hadn't even had time to regenerate his nerves, and there was no pain.

It was the only detail that could have made the moment more perfect.

Joseph fell to his knees, still trying in vain to scream as the flames grew larger and hotter, slowly melting away the skin, and then the few muscles beneath. His left arm dropped from its socket and into a useless pile at his knees, and then his spine gave way.

Acton felt his throat go dry. He wanted to share the beauty and the torment with her, but he knew she wouldn't understand. Or, perhaps she would. She had surprised him before.

Her skin was pressed up against his, and her fingers were in his hair and digging at his scalp. With her thighs pressed against his hips and her arms tight around him, he pressed his lips against her neck. It all felt so natural. She said his name as his arm tightened around her waist, and he watched Joseph slowly burn.

Chapter 24

Ember awoke with a start, grabbing the blanket and pulling it to her chest. She had been having the dream. It was a common dream, but that never made it less unnerving. Falling through space, she had jerked awake just before impact. Staring around the room, she wiped her brow, and then her mouth. She didn't know where she was.

There was a mattress on the floor, and several boxes of books lining the walls. The pile of clothes that had been pushed up next to the closet door gave it away.

She was back in Acton's room, and she was wearing one of Acton's tee shirts. The bag of things that Charles had given her was sitting on the floor nearby.

It took her a moment to gather her thoughts. She had gone to sleep curled up next to Acton, on the beach, next to the fire. That had occurred after the water, and the stars.

Ember laid back on the mattress, sweeping her tangled hair out of her eyes—the stars, and the water, and the kissing...and the rest.

He had carried her to shore, and made a fire to keep her warm as he dug out a blanket that he had stashed in a garbage bag near their spot by the spring. Acton had stared into the fire for a while, and then he had moved to sit by her, kissing her long and deep.

She shook her head, wondering why she suddenly felt so alive, and so safe. Acton had always kept her an arm's reach away, and she had never known if it was because he was trying to push her away.

It was because he couldn't let her go.

She slipped out of Acton's shirt, and then held it to her face and inhaled. He smelled like burning wood and mint. With another light smile, she tucked the shirt into her bag and dressed, walking down the stairs and hearing voices in the kitchen.

Turning the corner, all four members of the Knox family stopped and looked at her. She smiled hesitantly.

"Good morning," she said quietly, demurely pulling her hair back before realizing it was too short to make a ponytail. Acton gave her a nod. She saw him smile as he looked back down at the table.

"Good morning, Ember," Asher responded brightly. "You're looking deflowered this morning."

With her hand poised on the refrigerator door, Ember froze. Despite the confidence she had felt in the bedroom, she felt her cheeks suddenly color with embarrassment as she turned back to glance at Acton, and then at Asher.

"What?"

Asher snapped his fingers, and then held his hand out palm up. His eyes never left her face. "Pay up."

Zinny was shuffling over from the stove, removing oven mitts as she came. Isaac was digging money out of his pocket.

"Ignore them. Good morning, Em," she put one hand on Ember's hair and kissed her temple. Giving her an encouraging smile, she nudged her toward the table.

Ember let her hand fall away from the fridge handle and went to a chair. She glanced at Acton again and then back at Asher, putting her hands on her hips. "You put a bet on...that?"

A wide smile spread across Asher's face. "I put a bet on Acton's stupidity. My next bet has Gina killing him within the week, if you want in."

Acton leaned back in his chair. "He's going to lose that one."

"She's back?" Ember asked, feeling faint as she sat down. Zinny was putting a plate of eggs and bacon in front of her, and she looked up to thank her.

"She was coming back, just as I was leaving," Asher went on. "It was a good thing that I took Isaac with me."

Across the table, Isaac raised and lowered his eyebrows, looking less than pleased that Ember was inside the house.

Zinny was running her hand over Ember's hair again, and she was suddenly very aware that she had forgotten to brush it. After the salt water, she was guessing it was going to take a lot of conditioner to get a brush through.

"A word, Acton," she said with another sweet smile.

Sighing, he stood. "Em—"

"She stays here," Zinny said curtly. Flashing her eyes at Asher, she frowned. "And anyone that makes her cry is in trouble."

With another glance at Ember, Acton followed his mother from the room. Asher waited until the front door had closed behind them to smile.

"So, give me details." He pulled his chair closer to the table.

"No," Ember said, trying not to blink. "You're creepy."

Ember jumped as Isaac slammed his chair back. Glaring at her, he stood and left.

"He doesn't like you." Asher crinkled his nose. "He's afraid that Acton likes you more than him."

Ember shook her head vigorously. "Oh, no, we're not—"

"I agree." Asher smiled. "His fears are unfounded. Even with you in the picture, Isaac is as close to a soft spot as Acton has ever come. But, getting back to last night..."

Ember made a concerted effort to lift her jaw and close her mouth. She resolutely shook her head, refusing to look embarrassed again.

Sitting back, Ember inwardly cringed as she watched him trying to form a mental picture, but she stood her ground. Slowly, his eyes opened, and then they darted back to her. He stood, walking over and laying a hand on her shoulder.

He gave her two pats before walking from the room. "Welcome to the family, Em."

Ember swallowed as his footsteps retreated, leaving her alone in the silence to ponder his meaning.

After finishing the eggs and bacon that Zinny had left for her, Ember returned to Acton's bedroom. Grabbing a box of books, she sat on the edge of the mattress and started to go through them. They were all old, and well-kept, except for the one dog-eared paperback that Isaac had returned to her.

"Em."

She looked up to see Acton standing in the doorway. The house had become so unnaturally quiet that she had been sure that she was alone. Even as she looked at Acton, the sound of Zinny doing dishes down in the kitchen started up.

"You read," she said from behind her box of books. "A lot."

"I like the written word," he replied, folding his arms across his chest. "I use them to study. They're filled with useful information about people, and what they feel, and how they act. I learn how to manipulate my victims through those books."

Ember smiled wryly. "I think you read them to escape."

"Is that why you read them?" he asked loftily.

"Yes," she said, looking back down and running her hand over the spines. She picked up the book that Isaac had given her. "This one is about two sisters. I used to think that maybe I would have a family like that, and a garden like that, and a bedroom like that—"

"A bedroom?"

"Yeah." Ember stopped. "The sisters have this bedroom, with this ornate poster bed and pillows and rugs and drapes. I never even had a foot board back at school. I guess it's kind of silly to dream about those things."

Acton didn't say anything. Ember sighed, shaking her head.

"Acton, I don't know why you want to keep me, and I don't know how long I'll be here, but when you're tired of me, don't tell me," she said, taking a deep breath to look him in the eye. She shook her head a little. "Just do it. Just do it and make it quick, when it's time. I don't want any warning."

Acton walked into the room, slowly dropping down next to her on the mattress. He pulled Ember down next to him, and as she laid her head on his chest, she hoped, just for a second, that he was going to protest.

"We made a deal, Em," he said. "Before any of it started. You agreed to all of this. I wanted to take something from Gina that she swore I never would, and you helped me to do it. In return, you wanted a family. So, here we are."

Ember closed her eyes, but she didn't feel sad, even knowing that it had been part of his plan. It was a strange thing that she didn't feel threatened by him, even though she knew she should. There was a growing tension between them, and even as it pained her, she knew it pained him too. He couldn't cut the ties any more than she could, or they would both go spinning into oblivion.

"What did you take from her?" she asked. "Me?"

When Acton spoke again, his voice was incredibly level. "I'm young, as demons go, and for reasons unknown to anyone but Gina, she decided that I was capable of reform. It only made me want to prove the opposite. Now, I've proved it. You're a Knox, with all of the rights and privileges therein."

With her eyes still closed, Ember mulled the words. It was as close to an open declaration of friendship as Acton, or any demon, was likely to get. "What do I do now?"

"You can do whatever you want." Rolling onto his side, he bent over her to kiss her, and she let him.

When he finally moved away, she stared up at him, slowly shaking her head. "I don't know who I am anymore."

"You're who you always were," Acton said lightly. "You were hiding before. I only helped you to realize it."

She shook her head. "You hypnotized me, and you control people, like they're puppets—"

"No." Acton's voice was calm. "I've never been able to control you, and the hypnotism only works when you let it. It was all you, Em. It was always you. Even on the nights that I made Joseph erase your memory, I'm convinced that you had a choice in allowing him to do it. You wanted to forget those things, but you always remembered little bits and pieces. The pieces that you wanted to remember. I could never take them away. I tried."

Looking toward the window, she watched the clear blue of the sky, hedged along the bottom by the dark silhouettes of the evergreens. It had been a long time since she had seen a blue sky, and somehow, it seemed empty without the stars. She believed him.

"You don't have to decide anything right now. Just come along with me, and I'll take care of you. Someday, maybe we'll take your half of the island from Thalia. Maybe we'll take her half, too. You never know." He lowered one hand to rest on her hip, but broke the kiss when she started to press her body against his. Ember exhaled slowly against his lips and opened her eyes.

Acton disentangled himself and got up from the mattress. Lifting herself up on her elbows, Ember watched him pause in the doorway.

"Asher likes to watch movies," he said, without looking back at her. "He talks through a lot of them. He only watches horror flicks, and I think he thinks he's reliving his glory days. Does that bother you?"

Pursing her lips for a moment, Ember shrugged. She shook her head. "Did he really change? When he was infected?"

"I didn't know him before," Acton replied. "He's older than I am. But, I know he hasn't killed anyone since coming here. He's very fond of you."

Ember nodded, looking down. "Isaac isn't."

"He'll come around," Acton said quickly. "But Asher is going to want to watch a movie later. You can join us, if you want."

He left. Ember laid back down on the bed. Zinny was still clanging around, doing dishes in the kitchen, and she heard Acton having a brief exchange with Asher in the hall. Outside, Kaylee was laughing, though Ember didn't know why, she thought that Kaylee must have stolen Isaac's socks from him again.

Furrowing her brow in confusion, she closed her eyes and concentrated hard, but the image slipped away like fog hit by sunlight. Pushing the silly notion away, Ember smiled.

She finally had a family.

Chapter 25

Three days passed without incident. Zinny counted every minute of every day. Ember accepted their way of life with a quiet grace that was admirable, and even when she was horrified, she was grateful. Isaac and Asher never made a harmful move against her. Acton was experiencing what was probably the longest stretch of non-boredom in his life. Perhaps most importantly, Gina never came knocking.

Zinny waited, every moment of every day, for everything to fall apart, but it never did.

Acton hadn't engaged in her idea of a family life since he had become old enough to struggle free and strike out on his own, but now, he had traded his overnight haunts and illicit trips away from the island for late nights at home with his brothers. He didn't have to go out looking for trouble when he had it living in his home.

Even as Ember's presence brought the dark shadow of Gina's ever present threat to hang over the house, Zinny found herself relieved. She hadn't known a moment without fear since Acton's birth, but now, at least, he was at home. They were all together, and that was how things should be.

The girl was the miracle she had prayed for. When the movies came on, she would bring a book down from the bedroom and sit next to Acton, reading and looking up occasionally. She sat right next to him, with his arm around her, and acted like it was nothing.

No one had ever demonstrated such trust. Acton had never allowed anyone to trust him to that extent. When she fell asleep next to him, he would lie with her on the couch. He allowed her to follow him wherever he went, and walked on her behalf so that she could keep up. He hadn't even extended that privilege to Isaac.

Someday, one of them was likely to be the death of the other, but the calm that ensued when they were together was so overwhelming that it was hard to do anything but watch, wait, and breathe a deep sigh of relief after so many years of tense risk.

Ember gave Asher an audience when he wished to entertain. She ate the food that Zinny cooked, and sat around the fires at night while Isaac skinned rabbits or cleaned the empty carapaces of dead crabs. She was never afraid. Isaac was still suspicious, but with every trinket she left outside his door, he was slowly coming around.

At odd times of the day, Acton would offer to walk with her, and they would leave the house for hours. Zinny wasn't so naïve that she couldn't guess what they were doing. Asher mocked them for it. Isaac became sullen and jealous that Acton's new toy had so thoroughly captivated him. But that was just it—Acton had brought home many new "friends," but none of them had held his attention like Ember. The others were toys, but Ember was different.

He wanted to buy furniture, for his bedroom. For her. Zinny had tried not to laugh at him when he had broached the subject. He was making plans.

After every outing, when she returned slightly disheveled and he was only quiet, Ember would pause as she walked past Isaac's door on the way to Acton's bedroom. She found little things in the forest. They were insignificant to everyone else, but she had figured him out. Isaac was a hoarder, and each smooth stone, piece of oddly shaped bark, and tiny rabbit skull was a small gift.

It was unlikely that she would ever fully win him over, but she had at least broken even on the day that she left him a swatch of her pants leg with dried blood on it. She had caught her foot on a jagged branch during one of their nature hikes, and though the cut was unremarkably superficial, the stain had dried into an odd resemblance of a seagull.

Almost a week later, Isaac came home to announce that there were visitors on the island. Ember looked up from her book on the couch, and then glanced at Acton.

"They know about me?" He asked without looking over.

Isaac nodded. "They want to meet you. At the bar."

"I'm busy."

"They have questions about the—" Isaac paused, staring with consideration at Ember. Them; that was the word he liked to use. When he finished, Zinny was surprised. "The Gillespies. They have questions about the Gillespies."

Acton stretched as he got up from the chair, and started walking to the stairs. "Zinny, you'll need to find something appropriate for her to wear."

That was how Ember came to be dressed in a traditional geisha's kimono and obi on a late Thursday afternoon. Her hair was too short to do anything fancy, but Zinny had styled it all the same. She overdid the makeup, which made Ember laugh. The significance of being dressed like a geisha wasn't lost on her.

Zinny had a somewhat twisted sense of humor.

In a far corner of Zinny's bar, they had pushed together three of the small, circular tables. Isaac was sitting at one, and Kaylee was sitting in his lap, her legs crossed as she filed the nails on her remaining fingers, awkwardly clutching and maneuvering the instrument. She had taken to wearing a glove on her damaged hand to hide her missing digits until they grew back, and smiled overly civilly at Ember when she caught her staring.

Ember sat back in her chair, letting Acton's form block their eye contact. Zinny was on her other side, wearing a gold Elizabethan era dress with a collar that would have made the queen proud, and Asher was on her other side. The people standing in front of them looked like homeless bums.

Their eyes darted back and forth across all of the attendants at the table, assessing whether or not they were to be trusted. Both of the men had shaggy beards and crazed eyes. Ember wondered if they were brothers.

"Well?" Acton prompted.

The one on the left barred his teeth in a snarl, revealing yellow and brown nubs where his teeth had been. "You're Acton?"

He nodded.

"You own this island?" he pressed. "You live with the hunters?"

"There are rules," Zinny said in a cool tone. "They leave us alone and we—well, they leave us alone, as long as there isn't any trouble with humans. Interfere with the humans in a harmful way, and they will return the favor."

Ember tried to suppress a snort. Zinny had almost asserted that they left the hunters alone. That clearly wasn't the case anymore. When her attention returned to the strangers, she saw that all four of their pale, shallow, bloodshot eyes were focused on her.

"She doesn't carry the curse," the first brother said.

"She's mine," Acton said forcefully. Ember didn't see Zinny move, but the tension coming off of her was palpable. She was preparing to launch herself across the table.

"You keep her for fun?" The brother cracked a smile.

"I keep her for my own purposes." Acton did not look entertained. "Don't touch her, and don't try to make your own pet. She's the only exception the hunters have allowed, and they only make exceptions for me."

The smile turned to a sneer, and Ember felt her heart start to race as the second brother remained silent. His expression hadn't changed at all since the talking had started, and Ember was beginning to wonder if he was mentally handicapped or mute. But as their eyes met, a slow smile spread across the second brother's face, and his eyes narrowed and they wandered up and down.

Ember shuddered, looking away.

"And why are you so lucky, boy?" The first brother was asking.

In a blur, the second brother lunged, but stopped suddenly, turning his hungry gaze back on the first brother, who was beginning to look increasingly uncomfortable. The crazed brother's teeth snapped inches from his face.

"I don't like people who disregard my rules," Acton said calmly. "So now you're warned. Try it again, and I'll make you do to each other what he was going to do to her." His eyes turned cold and serious. "That's why I'm so lucky."

The first brother seemed sufficiently convinced, but he wasn't happy about it. "You said humans were protected..."

"She's not human," Zinny said quickly, and Acton looked over. He was annoyed, though it was hard to say if it was because of Zinny's constant interjections or the brothers' general existence. "She's the second daughter of the resident hunter, which is another reason to leave this one alone."

Ember swallowed hard, trying not to let the smell and appearance of the two men scare her. They looked and acted like human incarnations of rabid, mangy dogs. She glanced back and forth between Acton and Zinny, and realized that they were trying to align themselves with the power of the hunters with her presence. She hoped it worked.

"Bullshit..." The first brother said.

"She looks exactly like her mother," Asher added, and for the first time, Ember didn't see him smiling. As if he heard her thoughts, he suddenly sat up straighter, and a gleam appeared in his eye. "Still looks a lot like her sister, too, despite my best efforts. There's the other daughter."

The two brothers turned, and despite her fear, Ember stood up to see around them.

With half her face covered in black and blue bruises, Thalia was standing in the front entrance to the bar, with the late afternoon sun glowing around her silhouette. She was alone, and must have been terrified, but she didn't look it. Across the crowded room of demons, she was only looking at Ember.

Acton gave her a quick nod as she looked over without a word, and Ember rushed from behind the tables to the front of the bar, grabbing Thalia into a hug. The older girl placed her arms lightly on Ember's back as she nearly had the breath squeezed out of her.

"Thalia!" Ember said, finally letting her go, and stepping back to examine her. The bruises were bad. "Are you okay?"

"I will be," she responded, looking at the floor. Her hair was done into herringbone pigtails, which was much fancier than the simple braid or bun that she usually wore. "Mom was afraid because I couldn't see out of my eye for a moment. The doctor said I had a mild concussion, and some shock, and I broke my cheek, but just a little. I lost a tooth."

She pulled back her cheek to show Ember, who cringed, and then hugged her again.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry that happened to you."

Thalia nodded. "It's okay. I know it wasn't your fault. But Ember, I need you to come with me."

Ember looked at her seriously. "I'm not leaving them. They take care of me. They're my family now, too, Lia. As much as you are." She took a deep breath. "Maybe more, even."

Thalia looked like she was going to cry as she shuffled her feet and stared at the floor. She mumbled something.

"What?"

"I said," she started louder. "I think something bad happened to Nan. Can we just go for a walk, and I'll tell you?"

Ember frowned. If Ethel hadn't returned yet, then she had been gone for at least two weeks. "Sure."

She followed her out onto Main, and then into the forest. Ember knew that Thalia was leading her back to the house, but decided she would hear what she had to say first. Acton knew where she was, and she was sure he would come if she called. Even if he didn't owe her any loyalty, she had added a new aspect to his power that she was sure he wouldn't give up easily.

"Are you okay?" Thalia asked.

"I'm fine," Ember responded curtly.

"Are they taking care of you? Feeding you?" Thalia asked urgently. "Did they hurt you?"

"Yes, yes, and no," Ember responded. "They're not evil, Lia."

"Then they're manipulating you." Thalia seemed certain. "Acton is very good at manipulating people. He only wants you until you give up whatever it is he needs."

"He's not the monster you think he is." Ember turned around, taking care to hold up her kimono. Main had disappeared in the trees. It was one of the few days on the island where the fog and clouds weren't threatening to drench everything, and it was beautiful. It was exactly the kind of walk, on exactly the kind of day, that she had imagined taking with the sister she had always wished for. "Well, yeah, he kind of is, but not to me. We have a deeper relationship than that. I kind of get why he does it."

"Why?"

"Mom," Ember smiled sardonically. "Have you met mom?"

Thalia didn't look amused. As she flashed Ember a shocked glare, the contrast of the white of her eye against the black and blue swelling of collected blood beneath it made Ember cringe. "If you knew what he did..."

Ember rolled her eyes. "Am I the only one that doesn't know? Please, Lia, tell me what he did."

Turning to face Ember, Thalia stopped. The look on her bruised face was sad and serious. Whatever Acton had done, it must have been unimaginably bad.

Thalia finally shrugged, looking away. "Ember, I am so sorry. It's just that you can't help yourself."

Ember didn't even have the chance to yell before the cloth landed over her nose and mouth, and she felt strong arms keeping her from running away. The kimono tangled around her legs, and she felt her body going gently to the ground. Her mother's voice was in her ear, filled with sadness as the darkness fell around her.

"I'm sorry, Ember, I'm sorry...there's just no other way..."

Chapter 26

The days went by slower than Ember had ever known they could.

She had managed to keep time for the first two days, awake and screaming, tied by her wrists and ankles to her bedframe. But time wore on, and Acton didn't come for her, and she was starving.

The ropes on her ankles were replaced with chains and padlocks, her wrists were released, and she was allowed a bucket to use as a toilet. Water appeared by her bedside when she slept, announced by the quick retreat of mouse-like footsteps as Thalia ran away.

They didn't know. When they left, the pale woman came, and her face floated like a ghastly specter. She laughed at Ember's pitiful state, but it seemed no one else could see her.

They had removed everything from the room except the mattress, the blankets, and the heavy wrought iron bedframe. The bucket was made of plastic, and too light to use as a weapon or throw through the window.

The sun rose, and set, and rose, and set, and soon, Ember wasn't even sure how long it had been. She was nearly certain that she was going to die in her bedroom, and then Gina would burn her, bury her, and write the school that she wouldn't be returning.

She didn't have any friends. No one would look for her.

It was a cold day, late in the season, when Gina found herself looking up from the last of her tomato crop to see Ethel walking back towards the house with a young man in tow. He had grown since the last time she had seen him, but his face was the same. Round and gloomy, and shrouded with brown hair. He was taller than she expected him to be.

"Theodore," she said, suppressing the surprise she felt and the urge to hug him. "You said you'd never set foot on this island again."

Looking around and blinking grimly, he shrugged. "I made an exception when I found out it was Acton Knox. I'm not staying."

"I wouldn't let you," Gina snorted, but smiled gently.

Theo nodded. "I know."

Ethel's voice was cold when she spoke. She didn't bother asking what had happened to Ember, or where she was, or how she was. She had known all along that it would happen, but she wasn't the kind of person to rub it in when someone else had messed up their kid. "Let's just get it done, then."

Gina nodded, looking at the ground. "They've left us alone since—"

"I don't give a shit, Gina." Ethel pushed past her and towards the house. "You're going to let him do this, or you're going to watch her die. I'm making that decision for you."

With a long, apologetic look, Theo followed her. There was another girl, the spitting image of her mother years before, slowly stirring soup in the kitchen. She stared at the wall as if her life depended on it. She wasn't lost in thought, or daydreaming. She only stared.

"Lia this is Theo," Ethel said shortly. "Friend of the family."

As she looked over, Theo saw the yellow side of her face, where she had taken a hard blow recently. Tulukaruk wasn't a place for humans, the daughters of hunters or not. The girl nodded at him.

"Would you like something to eat, Theo?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

He shook his head, frowning. "No. No, thank you. I'm here to see your sis—"

Thalia turned away sharply, staring out the kitchen window.

Theo turned to look at Ethel, who bore the same stony expression that she had when she had come looking for him. She nodded toward the stairs, and followed him as he ascended. They stopped in front of the second door at the top.

Theo looked from the door to Ethel, and then clapped his hands together. He laughed nervously. "Well, I guess this is it, then."

Ethel only eyed him seriously. "Good luck."

Turning the handle, Theo stepped inside.

Ember was lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling in much the same way that Thalia had been staring at the wall. Her cheeks were sallow, and as she turned her exhausted gaze on him, he knew that she needed help. Bad things had happened to this one.

"Are you a doctor?" she managed.

Theo suddenly didn't know what to do with his hands. He walked toward the bed, swinging them, until he put them under his legs as he sat at the foot of the bed.

"Yes," he said. "Yes, I'm a psychiatrist."

Even in her weakened state, Ember managed to roll her eyes. "Figures. She's trying to kill me."

"Who?" Theo asked.

"Gina," Ember responded, licking her lips. "My mom. She tied me up."

Theo turned around to look, moving the blankets from the foot of the bed. "Ember, you're not tied up."

"She must have taken away the chains last night." Ember shook her head; she sounded so certain.

Theo thought for a moment, and his heart sank. "The demons still visit you, don't they? Someone is making you hallucinate being tied up."

"Who are you?"

"It doesn't matter," Theo said, giving her a long look. "I'm someone who can help you, but you won't remember me. And that's okay—just let me help you."

It wasn't until much later that Gina joined him, sitting on the bed with Ember's head in her lap, slowly stroking her hair as she slept.

"Well?" she asked, eyeing the door warily as Ethel walked in.

Theo was holding his head in his hands. The service he offered was reserved for his most difficult patients, and he had done it many times over the years, but it never failed to make him tired in a way that no amount of sleep would ever cure. It burdened the soul to know some of the things he knew.

"Did you chloroform your daughter?"

Gina cringed. "I can't think. I can't think when she's around, and when she looks at me—"

"That's called guilt. You did terrible things to this girl, Gina."

Gina scoffed. "I didn't ask you to—"

"You didn't ask me to do anything," Theo snapped. "You were going to let it go...No. No, you had already let it go. You treated her like she was worthless. You couldn't even do her the justice of giving her up for adoption. You just ostracized her, and then you fed her to the Knox family."

"That's not true."

He sneered. "From the moment she first met him—"

"And when was that?" Gina demanded. "Tell me. Tell me what she saw. I compared stories with Ethel, and neither of us agrees. So go ahead and tell me what you think I'm guilty of."

He told her. And she laughed.

"Gina, this is very serious."

She shook her head, looking disgusted. "Theo, if he threw a rock through the window, don't you think I would have heard it? You saw that happen and you honestly believe I didn't try to intervene? Ember spent her first night in the living room with us, and I did her hair after I finished with Lia's. We talked about why she didn't want to be away and school and I said I would see about letting her come home more often. I saw her talking with Acton and a stranger, who I later learned was named Joseph, the next day in the garden. It was all down hill from there."

They had taken all of the lights out of the room, but there was enough light streaming through the window to illuminate Gina's pale face as her hard eyes softened, and her hand stopped to rest on Ember's brow.

"I love my daughter, Theo," she took a deep breath, shaking her head. "I had one job to do. Just one. I promised to give her a life, and keep her safe. And I couldn't do it. She came back, and I need your help. I need to train her—"

"No," Theo said flatly. "You don't deserve her. She doesn't deserve the life you want to give her. I took my family away from all of this to keep them safe from the Acton Knoxes of the world. She can come with me."

Gina looked down at her lap, breathing, and trying to steady herself. She didn't remember it that way; in the moment, it had all made sense. Since figuring out what was happening, she had spent days trying to convince herself that neither of them had said or done some of the terrible things that she remembered. "I saw Amy a few years back. She stopped and stayed for a few days, passing through on her way to Russia."

"How many years?"

"Four. Maybe five."

"It's been six since I've seen her," Theo said plainly, cracking his knuckles as he looked to the window. "You know why? She died in Russia. Some man whose name I don't even remember, who I had never seen before in my life and who I have never seen again since, showed up in my office to tell me my little sister had been ripped to pieces. And he was sorry. That's what happens to hunters, Gina. They die for the cause."

Without looking at him, Gina carefully wiped her cheeks on the back of her hand and slid out from under Ember's head, resting her carefully back on the mattress before walking from the room. Theo glared as Ethel walked in, her arms crossed, nodding slightly to herself.

"That make you feel better about it?" she asked, crossing her legs and sitting on the floor. "It's not her fault."

"It's not?" Theo said in mock disbelief. "This girl is a renegade, Ethel. I think you know what she did to her. Her life isn't about duty. She felt that rejection very keenly."

Ethel only shrugged. "I made her send her away. She wanted to keep her, but I know better than most that renegades make piss poor soldiers. As you said, her life isn't about duty, and Gina doesn't understand that."

In disbelief, Theo shook his head. "You do fine."

"We create our own chaos," Ethel said calmly. "That's what she means when she says she can't think. This island only has room for one renegade hunter, and it's me. If I have to suffer so that she can have a normal life, I'm going to do it." She leaned forward, holding his gaze. "Gina won't tell you to do it, but I will. I want you to take it all away from her. Erase it all, and give her an excuse to never come back here, and she can go and became a psychiatrist in Arizona. One with an unlisted number, who's impossible to find when someone needs her."

Theo didn't even crack a smile. "You want me to rob her of who she is. You want me to take away all of her memories of what Gina did, and make you out to be a model family?"

Ethel snorted, smiling and shaking her head. "You just don't get it, do you? Theo, Gina really didn't do those things. I'm saying it isn't her fault, because whatever Ember remembers isn't what really happened."

She gave Theo a hard stare before continuing. "Ember came back on a clear spring morning. She dropped her bag in the water and Gina had to help her fish it out; it just about destroyed all of the books she brought, but she didn't care because she was so happy to be back. The weight from the damn books is the reason she dropped it in to begin with. They came home, and we all cooked dinner together. Ember sat in the living room and taught Thalia how to braid her hair some fancy way, and then she taught Gina how to braid Thalia's hair, and then she got really quiet. She asked why we sent her away, and Gina told her. She told her about the demons, and the life we lead, and the danger. She told Ember she wanted her to leave again, to stay safe, and Ember got very upset about it, and then Thalia got upset about it. Gina, being Gina, got weak and told them that they could talk about it when summer was done. We tucked the girls into their beds upstairs, but they stayed up talking anyways. Life went on, and it was almost like she never left."

Ethel paused, shaking her head and furrowing her brow.

"What?" Theo asked; he was still frowning, but his expression had become distant. He had seen the cracks and odd seams in her mind, but had assumed it was because of her dealings with the demons.

"It was a few weeks later." Ethel looked back at him. "It was the middle of the night, and we found her screaming on the doorstep. I don't know why she went outside, or what happened out there, but that was the beginning of the end. That's when things stopped matching up, and that's close to the time we learned about Joseph. I don't know how long he had been here. He might have been here all along. Gina figured it out, and she claims she caught him, and burned him, but Theo..." She shook her head. "I looked in the fire. There weren't any bones. We fought, and that's when I went for you—you have similar abilities. I thought you might be able to catch him, because maybe you'll cancel each other out. Zinnia Knox told me that Acton burned him when Gina left, and made a gift of the bones to Isaac, but Jesus, I still haven't seen the bones. He's probably still here, screwing with all of us."

"A meddler could do it." Theo nodded, leaning forward. He crossed his arms, looking out the window as he thought. "You're saying he erased her memory, and gave her this illusion to further his goal of luring her away. Ethel, is all of that true? Gina welcomed her back?"

Ethel's expression turned sarcastic as she smiled. "Maybe it is. Or, maybe I'm just saying it to win your cooperation. Does it matter, if none of us will ever know the truth?"

Theo stared at her for a moment, but Ethel only continued to smile serenely. He threw his hands in the air and stood up, starting to pace. "Of course it matters! It matters a great deal."

"It doesn't," Ethel spat back at him, leaning back against the wall. "Because the other day, I found myself standing in front of the house, and I had no clue what I was doing out there. And that's the truth. It's never happened before."

"You're senile."

"Hunters don't go senile, Theodore," she said, without the slightest bit of humor. "Acton has used his tricks on Gina more than a handful of times, and even if she doesn't want to kill Zinnia's little boy, I would have no qualms about it if I could catch the bastard." She pointed to Ember's sleeping form on the bed. "He's using her to cut his teeth on puppeting renegades, and if he manages it, we're up the creek. I'm the only one who still immune here, and that means he's one kill away from running the show if he ever gets the edge on me."

Theo frowned as he turned back to Ember; most of the community looked upon renegades as unmanageable flukes, but Ethel was right. The vast majority of hunters lost their human emotions when they changed, and it was looked upon as a strength to be so cold and decisive. But renegades kept their human emotions, even after becoming hunters. It made them chaotic, but their chaos made them harder targets for demons.

But it would be just like Acton Knox to step up his game. While most hunters were bound by animal instinct to hunt and kill demons, renegades were more human in their emotions; more often than not, it got them killed. Most hunters looked upon them as a runt of the litter. If one wanted to study them, a young and inexperienced renegade would be the place to start. Ember hadn't awakened to her calling yet, so it made sense that Acton would want her for practice.

"I'm not asking you to do anything extreme, Theo." Ethel stood to face him. "I'm just asking you to erase the summer. Give her something better, or boring, or...anything, really, that isn't what she went through. We'll send her back to school, and she'll go on to live a decent life."

"You can't."

They both looked over. Gina had returned to the room. Her face was still paler than the moon, and she used one hand on the doorframe to steady herself, but her resolve had returned.

Ethel's frustration was beginning to show. "Gina—"

"No," she said. "I mean, because there's another reason."

Just within earshot and just out of site, Thalia had crept away from the soup in the kitchen several minutes earlier. No one had told her what was happening to Ember, or what Theo proposed to do to make her better. She only hoped that he could do it. Sitting on a step, she clutched a washcloth in her hands, twisting it tightly and wrapping it over her knuckles again and again.

"A reason?"

Ethel sounded upset. It wasn't often that she stepped up to take any kind of lead, but when she did, she was usually right. The results weren't often good, though. Thalia gulped. She had been afraid for too long, and her whole body shook when she didn't have something to steady her.

Gina's next words put a knife through her heart. "I think she might be pregnant."

Thalia felt a strangled sound escape her throat as she tried to remember to breathe. She was sure they had heard her, but no one came.

"Is that even possible?" Theo was asking.

Ethel remained determined. "It doesn't matter. Give her a memory of a rape, and we'll get rid of it."

"Ethel!" Theo sounded disgusted. "I am not going to—"

But sitting on her step, her throat gone dry and her vision going funny, Thalia didn't hear the rest. Her world had narrowed to a buzzing noise, and a memory of a wish she had made as a little girl.

Ember had never been well-behaved, and she was wild, but she had been her sister. Even from afar, they had been sisters. Thalia had always thought that one day, they would be adults together. They would fight the monsters together, and have their children together—two little girls—and they would raise them together, just as Gina and Ethel had raised them.

Well, just as they had raised Thalia, anyways.

She ran from the house and outside, into the woods. Determined to find them, she ran into the dangerous place, where the monsters lived.

It was a childish thing to think, she realized, because now her sister was pregnant by the monster. Thalia was seventeen that year, and finally an adult. Ember had something growing inside of her that was part of him, and it wasn't a child that she could ever look at without knowing it.

She felt the tears running down her cheeks. They were the last tears that she would ever cry. They were for the sister she had lost, because Ember wasn't having a baby.

She was having an abortion or an abomination, and it made Thalia sick to her stomach.
Chapter 27

In The Garden, the days continued to come and go as they usually did. It was slow, and growing colder. The vast majority of the summer tourists were gone, and aside from stopovers from fishers, the starving times were coming.

Zinny sighed as she watched Acton, huddled and disinterested at the bar, reading one of the books he had read at least a hundred times before. He had let Ember walk out of the bar. They had all known that something was wrong the moment that Isaac shot up from the table, dumping Kaylee from his lap.

Let it go. That's all Acton had said. He had known what Thalia's presence signified, even though the rest of them didn't. Gina was back, and she intended to take back what Acton had on loan. He had sent Ember back to them without allowing anyone a goodbye.

Zinny had watched him from the corner of her eye for days, with doubt clouding her mind as she carefully re-examined every memory. His interest in Ember was something that she had always hoped that he was capable of, but had never really anticipated. The way he skulked around the house after their private outings told her that it had taken him by surprise as well. Acton didn't hide his prizes. He showed them off so that everyone would know what he had and envy him for it.

But with Ember, he kept his mouth shut. He didn't know what he had. He knew that he liked it, but he wasn't sure if an affair with a hunter made him stronger or weaker in the eyes of his subjects. The fact that he had lured Gina's daughter into a daliance would make him a legend.

The fact that it had actually happened the other way around...well, that was something that no one could ever know. When Gina's messenger had shown up to collect the wayward daughter, he had no choice but to let her go. After all, he had taken everything he could from her by that point. Keeping her around would have been an admission that it wasn't about Gina anymore.

Unless, of course, Zinny was wrong, which she had to admit was possible. Maybe it had always been about Gina.

As she pretended to scrub at a section of the bar, she stole quick glances at her son, wondering why he had let her go. Ember Gillespie was the best thing to happen to the Knox family since Zinny had decided to found it. She appreciated good food, thanked the person who did her laundry, gave Asher attention, Isaac gifts, and Acton almost everything else. She wasn't a loud-mouth like Kaylee, a brat like Rachelle, selfish like Delia, or stupid, like most of the girls that Asher tried to sneak into the house.

She was a perfect daughter.

Zinny pursed her lips as Acton flicked another page. He was either very bored or very bothered, and Zinny hoped it was the latter. If he wanted Ember back, then she was coming back.

Zinny would find a way to barter the trade if she had to.

When the bar door creaked open, and a small figure crept inside, Zinny almost didn't see her. But as she walked forward, taking slow, deliberate steps, the bloody footprints were hard to ignore.

Without her shoes, Thalia had apparently been walking through the forest, and taking no regard for the sharp rocks and thorny patches. She had lacerations and rips in her pants clear up to her knees. The few demons who had showed up early that day were staring at her, and all conversation had died.

"Lia!" Zinny gasped, grabbing for a clean towel. "Honey, what happened?!"

Acton turned around to see what was going on just as Thalia stopped in front of him. Her face was still bruised, and she had tired circles under both eyes. When she lifted her fist and slammed it into Acton's face, he tensed his skin instinctively. Everyone heard the bones in Thalia's hand crack as they snapped into pieces from the force of the impact. Acton didn't move; he didn't even flinch.

Zinny lifted a hand to her mouth. "Oh, my—"

Kaylee tried to stifle a nervous giggle; several gasps went around the room.

Slowly lowering her hand back to her side as her eyes and her face turned red, Thalia opened her lips to speak, but she couldn't seem to unclench her jaw.

"She's pregnant," she hissed.

Caught off guard, Acton glanced from Thalia to Zinny, who was still too shocked for words. Somewhere, Asher laughed. When Acton looked back to Thalia, he saw that she was crying...except that the tears never touched her cheeks.

They were evaporating before they even left her eyes. As a halo of heat sheen started to rise off of her body, Zinny jumped the bar, ripping her dress in the process, but she didn't care.

"Everyone out!" she screamed.

No one dared disobey her, scattering like cockroaches under a light as she grabbed Thalia by the arm and started fighting her to pull her out of the bar and onto the street.

It wasn't even a full second after they had passed the door that flames erupted from Thalia's arm, and the girl screamed. She wasn't in pain. She was screaming in rage. As she slapped at Zinny's face and hands and body, the flames were spreading, and it wasn't a normal fire. Zinny cried out as she felt the heat seeping under her demon's skin and sending jolts and daggers up her arm and into her chest.

The girl would go down—Zinny knew she would, because everyone succumbed—but there was just too much fire. If she let her go, she would burn down the entire island, but the fire was so hot that she could see her fingers melting—literally melting—as she wrestled Thalia to the ground.

A hand came flying at her face, and she screamed in pain as her left eye went dark and the smell of burning hair and flesh filled her nostrils. She twisted away, and saw Acton on the other side of the flames.

"Go!" she screamed.

But Acton's eyes were as cool and resolute as ever. He reached out and grabbed Thalia's loose arm, and they both flinched as his skin made a loud sizzle and pop on contact. Together, they held her down until she stopped fighting and went silent.

The first time for every hunter was always the hardest and the most exhausting. With her one good eye, Zinny looked down at the girl and shook her head. She had been a kind girl. She had gentle, wide, wonderful eyes. They were the color of robins' eggs, and wanted to see the best in people.

Thalia would never look at her with those eyes again. When she woke, she was going to be as cold and determined as Gina.

Having cooled her arms in the ocean, and Thalia's unconscious body as well, Zinny returned to the bar and wrapped her mangled arm in a silk scarf that had once belonged to one of Dani's girls. Acton had persuaded Kaylee to bring it for Ember, but she wasn't fond of fine things. She liked pretty things, and practical things, but not ones that were expensive. She was afraid of breaking things.

Zinny sighed as she continued to pad her limb until it looked passably normal. There was precious little muscle left on the charred bones—just enough that her arm wasn't completely useless—but it was going to be ugly for a long time. Things got broken frequently on Tulukaruk, expensive or not, and Ember was going to have to get used to it.

Looking at Thalia's comatose body, laid out on the barroom floor, Zinny supposed it was for the best. She would have been a sad little girl knowing that her sister had taken up with demons, but now she had traded it for a hunter's instinct and outrage. At least those things were easier to feel.

Hoisting her body up into her arms, Zinny found an old tarp to wrap her in. The fire had taken her clothes and her hair, but given her so much in return. Her face was healed, and so was the hand that she had broken on Acton's face. The lacerations that had run down her legs and ripped open the soles of her feet were gone. Thalia was a perfect and whole as the day she had been born. Zinny knew that she wouldn't feel the cold outside that night, and wouldn't feel the cold on the island ever again. Gina was going to save a load of money on the bill she was paying for the furnace and the water heater.

Children were expensive, and the thought that her own bills might soon be higher made Zinny smile.

She knew that Gina wouldn't care about the nudity, either, or not any more than Zinny did. Hunters were animals, like demons, and clothes were only a perception of armor. But that perception—the perception that being naked was being vulnerable—and the fact that an army of air horns wouldn't wake Thalia, was the reason she wrapped her up before carrying her home.

Walking through the forest, barefoot and alone with her thoughts, she tried to work out what she was going to say to Gina.

Ember was pregnant, and that changed everything. It didn't matter what Acton wanted anymore.

Gina wouldn't want it, and Zinny had always wanted another baby. It was almost as though the fates had smiled on them all. Ember would finally have her family, and Gina wouldn't have to worry over her anymore. Ember never stopped talking about how she had always wanted a family.

The door was open when Zinny arrived. Gina was standing in the frame, staring at Zinny with a haggard look that said she would gladly curl up in a coffin, if only the world was finally done with her. But the world wasn't done with her yet, and she would endure another day.

Coming to an exhausted halt three steps before the stoop, Zinny sighed as she shrugged her shoulders. "Hey."

"Hey," Gina responded. Her eyes lingered on the stars, trying to prolong her break from reality before she had to come back to earth. Her eyes flicked down to Thalia's body before settling on Zinny's face.

Zinny tried to smile, but only half of her mouth moved due to the damage from the fire. "Hell of a season, right?"

Thalia had gotten her good. She wasn't going to see anything out of that eye for a couple of weeks, at least.

"Did she take anyone with her?" Gina asked calmly.

Zinny looked down, pursing her lips and shaking her head slightly. She tried not to take it as an insult. "No. She...well, she went after Acton, but..."

Gina lowered her chin and her voice. "You intervened. You want to be held responsible for him? This time, that's what you want?"

"Gina," Zinny went to take a step forward, but Gina held her hand up. "Do you hate me?"

Finally unfreezing from her stance, Gina crossed her arms, swaying a little as she looked back up to the stars. "No. No more than the others."

"We could have been sisters, Gina." Zinny said quietly. "In a past life. We could have been sisters."

"Just put her down," Gina finally snapped. "I'll take her in when I'm done."

Zinny carefully set Thalia on the ground. She looked back up at Gina, carefully holding her hands in front of her.

This time, Gina didn't look down. "What?"

"About Ember—"

Zinny stopped when Gina started to slowly shake her head again. "We're never talking about her again. She's going away. We'll never see her again."

"She's pregnant," Zinny sputtered.

"I wish she hadn't told you that," Gina looked down at Thalia, sighing. "But okay, yes. So what if she is? It doesn't concern you. We're getting rid of it."

"It?" Zinny said through her teeth. She felt a flush run across her skin.

"It," Gina repeated. "Ethel found someone capable of fixing the damage. He erased everything he could of what happened to her here, Zinny. She doesn't remember any of it. It's done. She's going away, and I will never be stupid enough to let her come back."

"No!" Zinny felt her good hand clench into a fist. "No, that is my grandchild, Gina, and I want him or her—"

"It's my grandchild, too," Gina said calmly. "My first grandchild. And Acton Knox was the father."

"You will give her back to me, Gina," Zinny said in a low tone. "I want her, and I want my grandchild, and God help me, I will never forgive you if you take this away from me. She is my responsibility—"

"She is my daughter, Zinny. Mine, and she is nothing to you, and you will never speak to me again about how I intend to raise my daughter." Gina looked at her long and hard, and the light coming from the stairwell behind her suddenly seemed far too bright in the darkness that surrounded them. Without looking away from Zinny's face, she gave a curt nod. "Acton. You have some nerve..."

Zinny spun around, her eyes wide as they focused on the black silhouette of Acton's mask, half hidden in the trees and brush several yards out. The fox took several quick steps forward before the mask dropped, and he was Acton again. He had disappeared after Thalia had passed out. She hadn't seen him since she finally went still. Even though his burns were much less severe than hers, he somehow looked more worn down by them.

He leveled his gaze directly on Zinny. "Go home. I'll take care of it."

Zinny compulsively wiped her hands down the front of her dress, and then remembered that one of them was composed mostly of a silk scarf. She walked forward to him, raising both hands to touch his cheeks. He leaned down so that she could whisper in his ear.

"I want her back."

Acton stood straight again, looking her in the eye but giving her no response. Finally, Zinny walked away.

When she had disappeared into the dark and there was only silence left, Acton walked up to stand directly in front of Gina. He looked down, fighting the urge to nudge Thalia with his foot.

"I'm done," he said quietly. "I told you that I would give her back unharmed. I'm done. I want you to send her away."

"This was what you wanted all along, wasn't it?"

The clarity of Gina's voice startled him, and he looked up. She was a cold woman, and he found it hard to believe that she could still be so objective.

"You polluted her body, and then left me with the choice of how to defile her." Gina nodded, unblinking. "I can kill it or force her to have it. That's what you wanted to do me—force me to make an impossible choice."

Acton smiled ruefully. "I wanted to win, and that's what I did. There's a piece of me inside of her, and you can kill it or let it go. Either way, that's a part of me that's leaving this island, Gina. That's the choice I wanted you to make. Kill me or let me go."

Her footsteps made hollow noises on the steps as she walked down toward him. "I could keep it here."

"Oh, you won't do that." Acton shook his head. "You couldn't bear to look at it, and you know I don't have any use for brats. We wouldn't want something to happen to it. Like what happened to the other four. The ones you're so sure I killed."

As he smirked, her lip curled just enough to remind him of a threatened dog. Slowly, Gina kneeled down before him to pick up Thalia in her arms. It was going to be difficult to convince her not to burn the island down when she woke up, but she would listen. When she met his gaze again, Acton sighed.

"You're going to forgive me," he said bitterly. "After everything I did, after I took your daughter—"

With glassy eyes, Gina only shook her head. "You're different, Acton. You wanted me to kill you. That's what you wanted out of this."

Tasting disappointment, Acton turned and spat. "Why?"

"You're the only demon I've ever known to care about what others think of you," she said, turning to take Thalia back into the house.

"I don't."

"You care what I think of you," Gina said with sudden force, turning back to him. "And don't call it forgiveness. You belong in hell for what you did to her, but if there was ever such a place, then this is it. This is where you belong, and it's not my place to kill you. That's something that only Ember can do, because you've earned it, and that's what I'm telling Thalia to do when I'm dead and gone. No one has the right to kill you but Ember."

The expression that spread across Acton's face was so unsettling that Gina almost dropped Thalia to defend herself.

"She won't," Acton said, suddenly cross. "If I asked her to, she would come back to me, whether she remembered me or not. What we have is special. We belong together, but I would rather see us apart if it means she'll get out of this hell hole." He stopped, shaking his head. "Get her off of this island before I change my mind. Zinny wants that child, Gina, but I don't. Get her out while you have the chance, or Zinny will find a way to make her stay."
Epilogue

Shutting the door behind her, Gina once again lifted Thalia, walking over to set her on the couch before she realized that Ember was already occupying it. She laid them down next to each other, just like she had when they were little. They looked like they were sleeping; it was a shame that neither one actually was. If everything went to plan, they would never see each other again.

"It's done?" she asked quietly.

"It's done," Theo said from the chair across the room. "But he's right, Gina. She didn't want to give it up. I took what I could. She'll still remember them, but she won't know anything about demons. She's a normal teenager again."

Gina nodded, licking her lips. "Acton?"

"He left her," Theo said stiffly. "She woke up alone, and he was just gone. He abandoned her. It's the best I could do without leaving something that would make her suspicious."

Gina took a deep breath, shaking her head and trying not to seem disappointed. "The child?"

"It wasn't rape," Theo said again with more force. "That's not how she remembers it, and I'm not changing it. I'm not putting her through that after everything else that—"

"It's fine, Theo," Gina said, turning toward him and forcing a smile. "I agree with you. Thank you. Thank you for doing what you could."

She excused herself to the kitchen. Theo stood to follow her.

"Gina," he said lightly. "Ethel is gone. She went out, trying to track down signs of Joseph, in case he's still here. I don't believe he is anymore, but he was. He's moved on or dead."

Gina nodded, scrubbing at a pot in the sink.

"Gina."

She stopped, looking over at Theo. His brow had furrowed in a way that made her worry.

"I'm not the first person to go erasing things in that girl's mind," he said quietly. "She's a deep ocean of nothing, and something was there before, but it's all gone now. A massive amount of something is gone now. I think you know that I'm not talking about a meddling, amateur demon that got at her over a single summer."

Gina met his gaze, but didn't say anything. When she started shaking her head a moment too late, Theo's grip on the counter tightened like a vice to keep his feet on the ground.

"Who is she?"

"She's my daughter," Gina said quietly, turning back to the sink. "She's leaving tomorrow to go back to school, and everything is going to be okay."

His eyes scanned the window as he leaned in toward Gina, and watched her swallow her nerves. Pointing back toward the living room, he kept his voice low. "Is she the one they talk about?"

Gina smiled, and then laughed, but looked like she was going to be sick as she shook her head and went back to the dishes. "No."

"Why does Zinnia want her so badly?" His stomach turned to knots; he still wasn't sure that it was all about the child anymore. "She's not going to stop, Gina. Everything I have ever heard about that woman says that she gets what she wants, and she wants that child."

Gina dropped the pan, letting it clatter into the sink. She stared Theo down with such intensity that he took a step back. "Over my dead body."

Preview

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Preview:

Rabbit Bones

Redemption Book 2

Available Now

Prologue

The garden was a large space behind the house that was fenced off by a great, hand-stacked stone wall. The wall was fully closed from the back of the house to where it wrapped around the side yard, and small animals often nested between the largest gaps between the flat stones. It was late September, and things had mostly died down to a large pile of dead foliage and old pine needles. Thalia picked up one of the jump ropes, shaking off the dead leaves with little fear of the creepy crawlers that might have been hiding there, and immediately started to trot around the yard with it. Ember pushed her hands deep into her pockets as her teeth chattered against the dropping temperature that came with a premature northern night.

Thalia's feet crunched on the leaves. "One, two, three, four, five..."

Thalia didn't like to play with others, and often neglected Ember, who might have preferred the company. Ember liked to trick herself into believing that Thalia liked being alone. It wasn't really that she liked being alone--she liked being with her mother and Nan. She just didn't like being with Ember, and oftentimes, Thalia thought she was a figment of her imagination, and if she ignored Ember long enough, she might disappear and go away.

But as a real flesh-and-blood child, Ember was incapable, as many times as she had tried. Sometimes, when it was time for bed, or when Ember found herself alone in a corner, she would shut her eyes tight, pretending that she really had been a figment. With the world blacked out to nothing, she would imagine that she was Thalia, the girl with the pretty hair and the perfect demeanor, and that Ember had been something she pretended.

But it never came true.

"...seventeen, eighteen, nineteen..."

Alone with herself, Ember stared up at the sky, and the trees, and she felt the breeze blowing through the fabric of her jacket and cloths and touching her skin. She shivered with both the cold and the sensation.

"...thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three..."

She walked to the wall at the back of the garden and started searching for birds' nests or signs of ground squirrels in the gaps and holes. She stared intently, hoping they hadn't all gone away to wherever they hibernated, though it was getting late in the year and late in the day. Dragging her hand along the wall as she went, over the sharp edges and unforgiving hardness, she turned the corner into the side yard and heard her Nan and mother talking about something. It was something upsetting and serious, by the sound of it. Ember only sighed heavily, and then looked up to stare at the sky as she tried to ignore the voices. The sky was darkening, but it was still too light for stars; Ember stayed looking straight up until it made her dizzy.

She finally looked back down at the far end of the side yard, where the alleyway made by the stone wall ended, and noticed something. There was something red on the wall, and the presence of the red thing piqued her interest. It wasn't a natural red, like one would see on flowers or birds; this red was artificially bright. It was not from her mother's garden.

She walked toward the pretty thing, and picked it up. It was a scrap of cheap ribbon, like the kind used to tie a child's helium balloon to their wrist.

"Hello."

Ember looked up with surprise to see a boy sitting on top of the wall. She was sure that he hadn't been there before. He wasn't quite a man, though he certainly appeared more of an adult than a child. He had dark hair and deep, dark eyes, and long limbs which he had composed around himself like casual accomplices.

Ember smiled at his friendly confidence. The stranger smiled back.

"Hello." Ember said, intrigued with the turn of events. "Is this yours?" She asked, holding out the bit of ribbon. It seemed rather a melancholy treasure without its balloon, frayed at one end and clipped straight at the other.

"Yes." The stranger smiled more broadly, revealing starkly white teeth. "But I am giving it to you. Do you like red?"

Ember stared back down at the red ribbon, and suddenly realized that she did very much like red. She was also pleased that the stranger would find the bit of ribbon of enough value to give to someone like it was a gift; her mother would have called it a piece of trash. "Yes, I like red. Red is my favorite color."

"Mine too." The stranger said with another grin that never touched his eyes. "What is your name?"

"Ember Gillespie." Ember said wistfully, rubbing her head against her shoulder to push a stray bit of hair back behind her ear.

"Ember. Gillespie." The stranger repeated back to her without blinking. "May I come into the yard, Ember?"

With a pleased smile, Ember nodded. "Yes. You can come down."

He dropped gracefully from the top of the wall to kneel down on ground before her. He had black hair and a handsome face, like a prince from a storybook. He brought his hand to touch the part of the ribbon that hung from Ember's hands. "I like red, too...Though I believe I like a different red than you. Red is a very special color."

"What's your name?" She asked, smiling at the random things he said.

His expression twisted into a smirk and he raised his eyebrows as he stared at her, shaking his head; this time, the smile came through his eyes instead of his mouth. Suddenly, his face contorted and he raised his arm defensively.

Ember frowned, wondering what she had done to displease her new friend. "What's wrong?"

The stranger lowered his arm and smiled, though his nose was wrinkled in disgust. "Someone inside is cooking. That's all."

"Ember!"

She turned around to see her mother running toward her in long, graceful, gazelle-like strides, her bare feet crunching on the leaves. She reached Ember and scooped her up; Ember saw the kitchen knife in Gina's hand. As Gina passed her daughter off to Nan, Ember turned in time to see Gina strike the knife one quick time across the stranger's face. It made a sound like nails on a chalkboard, and the stranger reached up to grab at the dark, bleeding cut in shock.

Gina pointed the knife at his chest. "Stay away from her."

"Why?" He replied with a hiss, pulling his hand away from his face. "I didn't hurt her."

"No." Gina shook her head, once again raising the knife to gesture at his face. "You know why."

In her grandmother's arms, Ember disappeared around the corner, clutching her gift ribbon in her hand. The next day, they put her on a plane to the contiguous states, where she went to a private boarding school and received a first-rate education. Ember didn't see the stranger again for many years afterward, and when she finally did, she didn't recognize him.

She only knew he was someone important to her—the first person to value her as a personal treasure and not a damaged item. She held on to the ribbon long after it had lost its childish charm, using it as a bookmark. She lost the ribbon when she forgot to pack the book she was reading for a trip she took when she was eighteen.

She was going back to Tulukaruk, intending to pay her last respects at Gina Gillespie's funeral.

Chapter 1

"Keep the change!" Ember hollered over her shoulder.

The fisherman who had ferried her across the water was a small, shadowy man. The passage of time had frosted him around the edges: colorless hair on his head and coming out of his ears, white calluses on his hands. Sitting across the boat, he had ogled her relentlessly; he simpered at her with a straight grin and yellowed teeth. Ember had smiled politely, pulling her jacket tighter around her shoulders while angling to grab the fire extinguisher fixed under her seat, just in case she needed something heavy enough to use as a bludgeon.

The old fisherman didn't scare her. She had dealt with much worse. Ember had never considered herself exceptionally attractive, but the creeps and degenerates of the world never seemed to have trouble noticing her. The man steering the boat was nothing compared to some of Stephen's clientele.

She knew how to deal with men who looked at her the way the old fisherman did, and that she shouldn't let him anywhere near her to help her off of the boat. When they were in the shallows, just as the boat stopped, Ember shot to her feet before he could get up to help her.

She threw her bag overboard, and then let out a long stream of profanities as she jumped into the waist-deep, icy water after it. The old man laughed, and the small craft that had carried her across the channel pulled away without looking back. Ember turned and sighed; the few words that she had exchanged with the old man had centered on his unwillingness to take her to the dock because "those island folk are odd."

Staring at her soaked and freezing lower half, she wondered if he would have taken her the dry route via the dock if she had been even slightly more receptive of his advances.

Picking up her bag, she lumbered off-balance to the shoreline. Her gemstone-studded jeans were soaked and her shoes were ruined; they were the only good shoes she owned. Ember cursed again, and then continued ambling along the opening of the river with her knapsack precariously laid over her shoulder. The unstable gravel that composed the shore slithered under her wet shoe, her ankle twisted, and she collapsed flat on her back when her feet skated out from under her.

Sighing in defeat, Ember composed herself so that her throbbing leg and foot weren't underneath her on the jagged, pebbly terrain. It was an ugly coastline compared to the ones she was used to seeing in South Carolina, and it smelled like fish.

It smelled like rotting tuna and old salad. It smelled like bass minus the "b", as Stephen would have said; Ember rolled her eyes.

Stephen was crude, but he was right; as she stared at the charcoal grey sky, she knew that she shouldn't have bothered coming back to Tulukaruk. This place was the one dream she squeezed so hard in her brain that she could feel it suffocating. It was losing all of the loveliness it had once held from her over-analysis.

Closing her watery, red eyes, she could see Stephen sitting on his leather sofa as she stood across the coffee table from him ten days ago, staring out the bay window at the thin line between the sky and the ocean. He was wearing blue plaid pajama bottoms and no shirt as he ate breakfast, because he liked showing off his tan, even when no one was there to see it.

"Why would you do that?" He asked, smearing cream cheese onto his bagel. He stared at her with a bleary, after-party hangover look in his eyes. "You said you didn't know her. Did you ever even live there?"

She had never considered Tulukaruk her home. Most of what she knew about the island had been obsessively researched from what little she could find online. The rest had been painted in her daydreams, and little bits of what she could remember.

It was a small place—maybe thirty square miles of land, some of it under water, part way dissected by a small stream that trickled from a natural spring down to the bay area. It was volcanically active, like many places along the Ring of Fire, and surrounded on all sides by sometimes-frozen Gulf of Alaska water. The summers were foggy and the winters were stormy and harsh. Ember's family had been the only one with small children crazy enough to reside there full time. Tulukaruk was close enough to land that the island was covered with a solid army of trees, and far enough away from the bay town that they were on their own when something unfortunate happened. The economy was all fishing, and the bulk of revenue was generated by supporting the transient fishermen and adventurous tourists. Most of the fishers left in the off season, when the weather came on heavy, before the nearby volcanoes would coat it all with a powdery film of black ash. That time of year, the island became introverted as the citizens settled down to survive until the means to put bread on the table returned.

"Yeah. I lived there." Ember had mumbled back at Stephen through her own morning stupor, squinting at the line at the horizon. The ocean fascinated her. "Not for long, but it happened."

It had been more than a few years. The first six of her life, followed by a short but significant summer when she was sixteen, Ember had lived on the island.

"So why are you going, again?" He asked, exasperated. He had crimson tendrils in his eyes, and shadowy circles beneath them. She didn't usually like to cross him when he had that look, but she knew he was too tired to care. There were always other girls around, and Ember knew that she was replaceable. Even if Stephen like to whisper sweet things in her ear when they were alone, he was going to get bored eventually.

Boys lied and got bored, and Ember knew that she needed to make a graceful exit before he had a need to dispose of her. They were both perpetually hung-over, and Ember couldn't remember the parties anymore. She had been bored for several months, and maybe a year, and possibly since the very beginning; perhaps that was what really compelled her to go back, but she hated goodbyes.

"I don't know," she muttered. "Because she was my mother, and maybe she left me something in the will."

A mammoth, chilly plop of rain hit her forehead precisely, summoning her back to reality. She had the unsettling feeling that the island was acknowledging her. It knew that she was back, and why she had returned.

She was suddenly unsure why she had returned. This place wasn't her home any more than Stephen's condo had been. Perhaps it was the money and the will, but she didn't think so. Perhaps it was the opportunity to make a scene by dragging herself to a funeral, embarrassing her sister where her mother was ultimately unable to come to her rescue—that had to be it. She hated the memories of Tulukaruk for haunting her, and she was putting those memories to bed before starting a new life somewhere expensive, dry, and trashy. Somewhere like Las Vegas, where hard-earned savings went to die for the sake of spectacle.

A rustle in the bushes startled Ember from her thoughts and she looked over sharply, but too late to see what it was. Her brain snapped to attention, and she realized that she had been drifting aimlessly somewhere in her mind. Ember knew there were bears, and surely other predators, on the island—she didn't think something as large as a bear could have hidden so quickly.

Deciding that she would rather have the option to run if she needed to, she got back to her feet. She rose slowly and carefully, trying not to slip again, and started to walk. Her head was dizzy from the lack of sleep from all of the travel, and the slight, lingering hangover of a life with Stephen wasn't helping.

Coming into town, Ember noticed that things hadn't changed much. Granted, the last time she had been there when she was sixteen, she had really only seen it by moonlight. The days had been reserved for sleeping and hangovers.

Log cabin constructs and buildings with faded, peeling paint crammed the one main drag in town like sardines packed in a thin, straight line. It was the only area on the island that was paved, but there weren't any cars. Everywhere that was worth going was within walking distance. There were a few rusted motorcycles and tractors, hidden in the alleyways, which the locals used for hauling heavier loads around. A handful of people owned smaller private boats to cross the channel to the bay, where the other town was just as isolated. Off in the bayside town on the mainland, they at least had a seaplane to get around, and one lone road leading off to somewhere.

The streets were empty, which didn't register as unusual. There would be more people around when dark fell and the bar opened.

With little else to do, and hoping that the light buzz in her head would leave before she had to face her family, Ember stopped at the organic coffee business that sat in the middle of Main. The door clapped shut behind her as the brass bell over the entry clanged an announcement of her arrival. It was still the only place, besides the little general store and the bar, that sold food. Ember didn't know why the store called itself organic. Everything bought and sold on the island was a freeze-dried or frozen import, except fish and non-perishables, so it all tasted like artificial preservatives and smelled like fish.

Ember's shoes and pants were dripping a puddle on the scratched-up linoleum floor; little bits of dirt and crud that had stuck to her shoes floated in her miniature pond like dead goldfish.

Looking at the menu display, she was disappointed. Even since the coffee revolution that had brought whipped, frozen, and caramel creations into existence everywhere else, this place still only served coffee. The menu was so plain it might as well have been a joke.

"I'll have a small coffee," she said, putting money on the counter. It was more of a statement of fact than an order. The clerk, a younger woman with dark hair and a pallid complexion, glared at her without reason. Ember glared back at her with all the surliness she could muster. "Please," she added with indifference.

Somehow, this seemed to clear the barista's mind. "Ember?" Her lips spread into a cautious smile while her unblinking eyes remained fixed on Ember's face.

The money was still on the counter and the coffee was nowhere in sight. Ember nodded and pushed the bills further in the barista's direction, the wet cotton fibers of the bills clinging to her pruning fingers. It didn't bother Ember that the stranger knew her name. Ember's mother had lived on the island her whole life, and until she had disposed of Ember, she and Thalia had been the only children living there. They didn't leave during the winter. Everyone knew them, or at least knew of them, and that their strong family resemblance was only growing stronger with age.

"Well..." She whispered smoothly, eyeing Ember like she was expecting her to say something about remembering her too. Then, sighing and shaking her head, she grabbed a paper cup off the stack and reached for a carafe. "I guess it's true, what they say about you."

Ember shook her head. "I'm sorry?"

The barista gave her another long, solemn stare. "You and your sister. The two of you haven't changed one bit from each other."

She set the carafe down unnecessarily hard as she held out the cup of coffee. There was an odd look in her expression—like she was angry, but pleased at the same time. She used her other hand to push the money back at Ember as she took the cup. "It's on the house. Welcome back. And tell your sister I said 'hi.'"

Ember stared at the coffee like it was going to bite her. Then she looked up to find the barista was still staring, her brownish-reddish eyes blazing as she crossed her arms. As she stared at her, Ember couldn't help but feel challenged. She straightened up to make herself look taller, the vaguest sense of déjà vu nagging at her gut. Maybe during one of those long, cold, strung out nights, she had done something to this stranger.

"What's your name?" Ember asked, taking a half step back.

"Delia."

Ember didn't know anyone named Delia.

Suddenly, the barista cocked one eyebrow and leaned forward just slightly. In that moment, Ember was struck by the very disturbing thought that Delia could kill her, and no one would ever know. No one was expecting her arrival, and Stephen wouldn't miss her return for a month or longer. He might not ever miss her, depending on who he found to fill her place in the condo.

With Delia's burning gaze and disquieting expression staring her down, Ember swallowed. If she went missing right in that moment, no one would know. No one would care; there wouldn't even be a search. There probably wouldn't even be fliers.

She was the soon-to-be ex-mistress of a drug dealer, and people like her went missing all the time. The world went on.

It wasn't anything tangible, but the feeling was there...Ember imagined that she could feel the doors locking behind her and see the knife behind the counter. She could see her death on Delia's face; one quick slice across her throat, blood everywhere, and Ember would be lying on the floor in the puddle her shoes had made, bleeding to death as her screams escaped out the hole in her neck instead of passing her silent lips. Delia would wrap her corpse in a garbage bag, mop up the mess, and wait for dark before going out to the water. She would use a knife to pop holes in the bag so that the gases from Ember's rotting body wouldn't make it float, and then weight it down with rocks before sinking it under the dock.

It was only her imagination, but still, Ember shifted from foot to foot, uneasy.

Delia was making a face. She was caught somewhere between a grimace and a smug smile, her lips so tight they looked like they were seizing as she smiled and yet seemed to be trying not to. Ember was horrified at the thought that Delia might have been imagining the same thing...and she was smiling.

"Um, okay..." Ember mumbled before making a beeline for the door. Normally, she was willing to fight when somebody tried to ruffle her feathers. She would have told Delia to not act like she knew her, because she didn't, and then would have added a few choice words before grabbing her money and taking her business elsewhere. Or nowhere, as her options may have been on Tulukaruk. Maybe it was because she was cold and wet, or just in a sour mood being back on the island, but she didn't want to fight with Delia.

There was an icy chill running down her spine as she sipped the coffee, and it had nothing to do with the actual frost developing from her dip in the ocean. She hoped the coffee wasn't spiked with something nasty. Ember sat down on a rough-hewn timber bench to steady herself. She wasn't sure, but she was betting Delia and Thalia weren't friends. Women got a certain look about themselves, something territorial, when they despised each other; Delia had that look.

Ember glanced up from her coffee to see the clerk from the antique shop across the way standing in the door and staring at her, with Delia standing next to him. Looking down the street, she could see that a group of townsfolk had also stopped to stare. Frowning, all she could think to do was raise a hand and wave, hoping they would take the hint and moved along.

They didn't. A girl with red-blonde hair was openly gawking at her. None of them waved back, and sighing, Ember could see that Thalia had evidently made all of her friends for her since her last visit.

The rude redhead was walking towards her with her head cocked, as though she was confused by Ember's presence. A split second later a man from the cluster of people, maybe in his early thirties with shaggy brown hair and large ears, started to follow her. He ran with a quick lope to grab her arm, and Ember jerked vicariously as he yanked the girl with such force that she lost her footing and turned back to him with an irritated expression.

The bench shuddered, and Ember looked over her shoulder to see who had sat down.

"Acton!" She didn't know why, but her coffee was suddenly on the ground, and her arms were around his neck.

"Ember, Ember, Ember..." He said in a sweetly playful tone. "You've grown up on me."

Ember pulled back, surprised by her own reaction as much as his words. Acton gave her a courtesy smile, but it was clear he wasn't happy. He must have been walking outside for some time, because his skin was cold. Ember ran her fingers down both of his smooth cheeks, and she was surprised that he wasn't growing a beard yet.

Frowning, she tried to count the years in her head; he had to be in his early twenties by now. She carefully looked him over, taking in every detail she had missed since her last dismissal from Tulukaruk. His dark hair was as messy as usual, complete with gritty bits of bark and pine, his hard features throwing into contrast the elegance in his posture. He was wearing the black suede jacket that Ember remembered from so many nights out at the bar.

She felt a shiver run down her spine when she saw his brown eyes wandering over her, giving her a similar assessment.

He finally brushed away her hands, sitting back and away from her. "You shouldn't be here."

"You haven't changed at all!" She laughed, half whining. It had been ages since she had last seen him, but he hadn't changed at all. It was a comfort to think that he had changed so little, but at the same time, the weight of everything that had changed in her since leaving suddenly fell like a brick wall between them.

The small smile he had managed was gone from Acton's face. Ember looked over her shoulder, flipping her hair back to see what he was gazing at so intently, and saw the assembly of strangers moving away down the street.

She turned back to face Acton. "Who were they...?"

But he was already smiling again, his piercing eyes dancing like gleaming flames on the breeze. Ember couldn't look away. He really was the same old Acton, she realized, with a stabbing tremor in the hollow of her stomach.

When Acton smiled, it was all through his eyes; he regarded the world with an amusement that started deep in his soul. It was like life was a joke, and only he knew the punch line. When he smiled all the way down through his lips and teeth, Ember always thought he was going to share the joke with her, but he never did, and it was perfectly charming that he led her on in such a fashion.

As he once again tried to charm her, she was aware that the smile held too many memories for her now.

"Do you need an escort home?" He asked lightly. His voice was too sweet.

Ember immediately backtracked the last minute, closing her eyes with difficulty to regain her focus. She wondered why she had hugged him as she tried to untangle her thoughts.

She wasn't going to let it happen again.

"Acton." She said carefully, stammering out her words. "It's good to see you. No, thank you, I can walk myself...where I'm going, thank you."

She had almost said that she was walking "home," but she had decided long ago that her mother's house was not her home anymore, and God willing, it never would be again. Her mother was dead, and Ember had no idea to whom she had willed the house. She didn't have the faintest inkling what to call it anymore. If Gina had left it to her, she was going to sell it, and perhaps use the money to compensate herself with some counseling, or some alcohol—anything to make the memories stop.

Taking a deep breath, Ember opened her eyes and stared resolutely back at Acton, purposely looking him in the eye to break the spell. She squinted her eyes and lowered her chin, trying to adopt a serious demeanor.

Acton laughed, his teeth like a white picket fence against the darkness behind. "You look so determined!"

"Goodbye, Acton." She got to her feet and started toward the footpath between the bookstore and the neighboring antique shop. She wondered how large the customer base for antiques could be on a pathetic little island with the same residents living there year in and year out. The pit in her stomach was throbbing, and she realized that she hadn't been prepared to see Acton again. She wasn't equipped to deal with him and the uncomfortable memories he conjured. The image of her dead and bloodied body lying on the coffee shop floor flashed back in her mind. It almost made her sick.

"Oh, come on!" Acton's voice was still light and fun, tempting Ember to forget the last time they had met. "It's been two years, Em. Let's talk for a moment, at least..."

Ember gritted her teeth. She spun around, nearly slamming into Acton's chest as he tried to chase after her. He didn't back off.

"We're not talking," she said in a low tone, looking up at him. His expression remained fixed, and he didn't back away from her. "You're not walking me home. I just got back, and I'm not ready for this, Acton. And I don't think Thalia is either, so don't follow me. Please just leave me alone until I've gotten off this stupid rock."

Acton was looking at her with what she guessed was either regret or denial. Thrusting his hands into his pockets, he rooted himself to the spot.

His voice was quiet. "I'll give you time, Em, but we need to talk."

Ember shook her head. "Leave me alone until I'm gone."

She turned and left. It wasn't typical of Acton to give up that easily, but Ember wasn't thinking clearly; she just wanted to get away. Deep down in her stomach, the throbbing told her she should have known better.

It was a fifteen-minute walk across steeper terrain from Main to the house. In her head, it felt like only seconds between the time that Acton had tried to befriend her to the time that Thalia swung the screen door open, appraising her with unwelcoming eyes.

End of Sample

Rabbit Bones: Redemption Book 2

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About the Author

I live in Colorado with my husband, and can most often be found in the library, the garden, or parked on the couch, writing, with a cat on either side of my laptop. I am a huge fan of science fiction and fantasy, whether on the screen or in print, and I believe that breakfast burritos and fried mushrooms are the most addictively delicious foods ever created.

I love connecting with people through my writing. If you want to spy on me, share your thoughts, find out about my other books, or tell me to hurry up with the next book in a series, please stop by my blog.

http://addisynltyler.blogspot.com/
