
#  STRENGTH

Mark of Nexus - Book 1 

#  Copyright © 2013 by Carrie Butler

STRENGTH (Mark of Nexus #1)

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior permission of the author.

www.carrieabutler.com

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, brands, places, and events are either a product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Cover Photo (Female) by 2s

Cover Photo (Male) by Yuri Arcurs

Cover Photo (Background) by Stnazkul

Cover Design by Carrie Butler

#  Table Of Contents

## STRENGTH (Mark of Nexus #1)

### by Carrie Butler

Title   
Copyright   
Praise   
Acknowledgements   
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   
Chapter 28   
Chapter 29   
Chapter 30   
Chapter 31   
Chapter 32   
Chapter 33   
Chapter 34   
Chapter 35   
Chapter 36   
Chapter 37   
Chapter 38   
Chapter 39   
Chapter 40   
Chapter 41   
Chapter 42   
Chapter 43   
Chapter 44   
Chapter 45   
Chapter 46   
Chapter 47   
Chapter 48   
Chapter 49   
Chapter 50   
Thank You   
Glossary   
Sneak Peek - Book 2   
The Mark of Nexus Series   
Other Books by Carrie Butler   
About the Author

#  Praise

"Carrie has a very fresh voice, full of quirks and humor." ~ Penny Reid, USA Today bestselling author

"This first novel of the Mark of Nexus series was a refreshingly different story, and I really enjoyed it." ~ Erin, Autumn Review

"A heavy, character-driven paranormal New Adult that has all the potential to be an entertaining series. Action, suspense, intrigue, humor, snark, romance, and two engaging protagonists whose witty banter and sexual tension will keep you on your toes." ~ Tori, SmexyBooks

"Carrie Butler has an amazingly unique voice as a writer that reads so naturally you forget you're reading ... Butler doesn't try and put a new spin on Vampires or Werewolves. She invents her own world of secrets and superpowers. It's refreshing to read something with a new and creative plot in the paranormal romance genre ... I was literally carrying the book around with me everywhere. To my delight, it just kept getting better and better." ~ Jessica Therrien, author of _Oppression_

"Carrie Butler's debut novel is brilliant, riveting, imaginative and seamlessly written." ~ Lisa Regan, author of _Finding Claire Fletcher_

"I love when a 'bad guy' has me feeling unsure about his 'bad guy' status. I won't say more, as to not give anything away, but Butler does a fabulous job walking this line." ~ Kelley Lynn, author of _Fraction of Stone_

"I devoured this book in two days–staying up until the early hours because I didn't want to stop reading!" ~ Kyra Lennon, author of _Game On_

"I freaking loved every last word on every page." ~ Scelest's Journal

"...This is Carrie Butler's debut novel, and I have to give her full praise for the way she writes. The characters really came alive for me, and I could totally 'hear' their voices. The storyline moves quickly, without any slow points, but isn't rushed. I was really hooked on this book from the very first pages." ~ Read It, Reviewed It

#  Acknowledgements

First, a shout-out to God. Without Him, none of this would have been possible.

I would also like to thank:

My parents, whose unflinching love and support have always meant the world to me. I hope to one day be half as cool as you guys. My sister, who sparked my imagination by convincing me our living room was home to carpet-dwelling crocodiles; my brother-in-law, who helped me stay on target—round after round; my nephew, who provided the comic relief; and the rest of my family and friends who lent their support. You believed in me, even when I didn't.

Amy Lichtenhan and Katie Henson, who first gave this book a chance; my former publishing family, who still continues to support me; the many editors, critique partners, and beta readers who shared their time, knowledge, and feedback. You shaped _Strength_ into the book that it is, and you'll always be a part of it.

Dave Taylor, who suffers the beast; Melissa Maygrove, who shall henceforth be known as the Goddess of Grammar; Lisa Regan, who waited over a year to sport her Team Wallace t-shirt; Nancy S. Thompson, whose candor makes me grin on a daily basis; Laura Callahan Tom, who taught me how to count (chapters); Iain Carter, whose reactions are priceless; and two of Wallace's first fangirls—Lindsay N. Currie and Trisha Leaver.

My beloved street team, Team CHAOS—Raina Campbell, Laura Carter, Teresa DiLillo, Giulia Esposito, Brittany Ferrell, Taneesha Freidus, Ellen Gault, Nadia Hassan, Tobi Helton, Kanettra Holmes, Magen Corrie Lirette-Chambers, Diana Long, Hannah Membrey, Diana Ramsey, Chie Relosa, Farrah Sayyed, Antonietta Nette Silveira, Ava Smith, Tracey Spiteri, and Jovon Tucker.

Last, but not least, high fives to the blogging community, my NA Alley family, the #NALitChat crew, and you! 

#  CHAPTER 1

Reid Hall boasts many amenities in its brochure—privacy isn't one of them.

Of course, that revelation comes after you find yourself crammed in a ten-by-ten room with a roommate, a barred window, and some institution grade furniture. Suddenly, college isn't the safe space for growth and expression you thought it was. The scent of burnt popcorn lingers, noises carry down the hall, and sooner or later, someone's patience is going to wear thinner than the walls.

These are things you learn as a freshman, not the second semester of junior year. So, why had my friend Aiden begged me to help him finally confront the guy who lived next door to him? Because he was too "chicken poo" to knock. His phrasing, not mine.

See, word got around last semester that muffled screams and thuds were coming from this guy Wallace's room every night—and not the kinky kind, either. He'd been isolated since his roommate went off the radar in September, and from what I'd heard, never had visitors. For all any of us knew, he'd built a torture chamber in there and smuggled his victims in at night. What were we supposed to think with all that noise?

Complaints were issued, but only resulted in a dorm-wide e-mail reminding everyone to be considerate of their neighbors during evening hours. God only knew how much of our tuition went into that brilliant solution. It had no effect whatsoever.

Fear threaded through the spreading rumors and wove the tapestry of our own, personal urban legend. Right here in Wilcox, Ohio. By the time winter break rolled around, the story had been stretched and pulled beyond all recognition. I got why Aiden wanted to nip it in the bud now, before classes started up again.

What I didn't get was why he insisted on using a five-foot-two enforcer...

Sure, Wallace was probably some scrawny little recluse in pedo-glasses, lurking around the dorm in one of those throwback tees from the '80s, but that didn't mean he couldn't catch me off guard. Whenever I've stood in their common room, waiting for Aiden to answer his door, I've always felt Wallace's tunneled gaze—his eye tracing my every move through the peephole. At any given moment, he could rip his door open, clamp a hand over my mouth, and drag me inside.

Rena Collins—another virgin sacrificed to the gods of campus chaos.

Okay, with that mindset, maybe I deserved to become a statistic. I wiped my hands on my pants and drew in a shaky breath. Idling here wasn't going to make this any easier. If I didn't rip off the Band-Aid, I'd lose my nerve.

Pulling my shoulders back, I lifted my chin and strode around the corner. It wasn't like I'd taken those self-defense classes for nothing. If Wallace jumped out and tried anything, I'd give him a taste of my heat-seeking knee. The poor fool wouldn't know what hit him.

I straightened my spine and took another step toward the door. Heh. Yeah. Maybe if someone actually stood up to—

Hinges creaked and something slammed into me full force. The impact burned my nose and forehead as the world tilted back in a sickening blur. It all happened so fast. I hadn't even seen the door open.

And, just like that, everything stopped.

Something—no, someone—grabbed my shoulders in a death grip and steadied me on my feet. I lurched forward, struggling to right my balance, and found myself nose-to-chest with a stranger.

Concern tightened his features as he bent down and tried to meet my eyes. "Are you okay?"

My pulse protested, hammering in my ears. Was I okay? I opened my mouth to speak, but it was as if every word, every unintelligible utterance, had escaped me.

His eyes narrowed, dark lashes obscuring an electrical storm of emotion. I'd never seen anything more caged—flickering and surging beneath the surface. Brooding cerulean one moment, hypnotic blue the next.

It was all I could do to suppress a shiver as the warmth of his breath danced over my skin, his scent clouding the air between us. God, it smelled so familiar, like the air before a downpour. I took a deep, shuddering breath and forced myself to look up.

Raven hues played across hair that'd been spiked without any obvious effort. Overlooking the lack of product, his haphazard style could've probably been described as a faux-hawk. If he cared enough to label it.

I shook my head, letting my gaze slip past the hardened planes of his expression. A silvery line stood out from the rough, morning stubble that peppered his jaw. I swallowed. A small part of me was intrigued beyond measure, but it was so foreign I couldn't place it. Instead, I let a much more familiar emotion run rampant through my system, the one that'd been building for the past thirty seconds—panic.

"I-I..." I stammered, unable to form a coherent thought to save my life.

Something changed in his eyes, and for the briefest of seconds, I thought I caught a glimpse of hurt. Just like that, the spell had been broken. He tore himself away from me as if I'd burned him, straightening to his full height.

I hadn't even realized I'd been leaning in until he pulled away, and I barely caught myself. What was I doing? I'd been standing there, gawking, and had yet to utter anything resembling English. I couldn't even begin to imagine how depraved I looked.

"Sorry," he muttered in a low voice, catching me off guard.

"I-I, uh...no, it was my fault." I took a step back, so I didn't have to crane my neck. "My bad." _My bad? Who says that?_

"No, I didn't—" He seemed uncomfortable, looking past me. "Sorry." Without another word of explanation, he edged around me, taking long strides down the hallway.

I blinked—not once, but twice—at his retreating form. Who was that guy?

And what the hell just happened?

I took my time, retracing my steps to the elevator. Aiden's plan would have to wait. I couldn't face him like this, not after the embarrassing stutter-fest I'd had with his visitor. Since when did he have hot friends, anyway? He could've just had that guy confront Wallace!

Mid-morning light poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows, tingling against my burning cheeks. In the few minutes I'd been gone, the sunlight had transformed last night's dusting of snow into sparkling white glitter. Campus looked picturesque from the seventh floor—a nice little postcard impression for the parents moving their kids back in.

It was what they were paying for, after all. Buildings, a mix of old and new, conforming to the same, brick standard. White columns and wide, cement staircases; modern lobbies and pretentious adornments. As advertised, a blend of tradition and innovation.

Without those things, or maybe because of those things, Wilcox is just another dot on the map—one of a dozen sleepy college towns in Ohio's northeastern snowbelt. Houses are modest, crime is negligible, and football is a widely practiced religion. Not the most exciting place to live.

Unless, of course, you share a dorm with a madman.

I shook my head and caught a glimpse of my reflection in the glass. Jade eyes cringed and peered back, rimmed with exhaustion. I looked like crap.

I tried to run a hand through my hair and got caught in a tangle. The edgy layers had already dried into a blond haystack. Aiden's friend probably thought I looked like some mangy, wet dog who'd wandered in off the street; or, at the very least, someone too lazy to dry her hair.

Great.

I heaved a sigh and retreated to the fourth floor. My roommate Gabby had been sprawled out, dead to the world, when I left, and I hoped to find her in the same, semi-conscious state. I wasn't ready for her interrogation. Not yet. I fit my key into the lock and gave it a gentle twist, easing the door open. The TV was on, blaring a teaser of the news to follow at noon. Another drunk had been found beaten in Columbus. Surprise, surprise. Thank God I didn't live in the capital—

"Girl, please tell me you did not leave the dorm with that hair." Gabby looked up from her magazine, lifting one perfectly arched brow.

Crap.

"I just ran upstairs to help Aiden with something. What are you doing up?"

She shrugged, fishing her hand around inside a box of Lucky Charms. "Eating."

"Thanks. I would've missed that." I crossed the room, rolling my aching shoulders.

She went back to mindlessly flipping through the magazine as she ate, collecting marshmallows in the crease. God only knew how she'd missed her mouth. "So, what did he need? Help sharpening his number two pencils?"

"I didn't actually make it that far."

She paused and tilted her chin, probably half-listening. "Why?"

Childish as it was, there were times I hated the girl as much as I loved her. She was the only person I knew who could wear wrinkled pajamas and still look like an extra from a Gap commercial. Thin, without looking anorexic. Dark hair falling in waves around her shoulders. If the chick from "La Vida Loca" has skin the color of mocha, Gabby has skin the color of a caramel freakin' macchiato. Her perma-tan makes me look like I've never seen the light of day.

I blew out a sigh and stretched my arms over my head. "I met this guy. Well, I didn't meet him exactly. I just sort of—"

"In sweats?" I had her full attention now.

My lips pinched together. "Yeah?"

She slumped with an exhale. "Rena, we just came back after a month off. Everyone's going to be between Christmas loneliness and Valentine's Day desperation. Do you really want to be seen running around in sweatpants?"

"Okay, first off," I began, ticking points off on my fingers. "I don't like the way you said sweatpants. Second, they're not sweatpants. They're yoga pants." I kicked my favorite pair of sneakers under the bed. "Third, there'd be nothing wrong with them if they were sweatpants."

There was an awkward pause, as if she were trying to digest my words. "And you think these"—she wrinkled her nose in disgust—"yoga pants attract men?"

I rolled my eyes, collapsing back onto my bed. "Believe it or not, I'm not trying to attract men." As soon as the words left my mouth, I wanted them back. Swearing off men wasn't the most effective argument against your bisexual roommate.

A wide grin pulled at her features. "That explains the sweatpants."

I flung my pillow across the room. "Gabriela Felicia Hernandez!"

She cackled, ducking her head down. "Calm down. You sound like my mother."

Hardly. In the two and a half years we've lived together, I've only been around her mother twice. She's a sweet woman, but her accent is thick and she talks eighty miles an hour. I couldn't imitate her on my best day.

An abrupt chorus broke the silence, and Gabby leaned over to grab her phone off her desk. "Hold that thought. Aiden's calling."

I felt my lips twitch as she brought the phone to her ear. It was funny how close the three of us had become over the years—especially those two.

When we first met Aiden, freshman year, he was this hopeless nerd with a shock of copper hair and thick, black glasses. Back then, people in my English class would make jokes about him—the cruel, obvious-to-everyone-but-him kind—and I kind of snapped. So the guy had a laugh like a chain-smoking horse—it wasn't his fault. The details are hazy, and I don't remember who set me off, but I ended up bitching out the whole class.

That was the week our professor suggested I try independent studies.

It was worth it, though. Aiden gathered his nerve and brought me his lecture notes as a thank you. I invited him in, introduced him to Gabby, and we've all been friends ever since.

"Yeah, she's can't do it now. Huh uh. Yeah, okay, whatever. See you then." She hung up before I could process the time lapse. "He wants to grab lunch."

"Was he mad I bailed on him?"

"Does Aiden get mad?"

Valid point.

She tossed her magazine aside and leaned forward. "Now tell me about this guy."

I should've known she wouldn't let that little detail slip. Before I could rethink my exit strategy, I lunged for the door.

"Later. I have to pee!" Pee, of course, meant hide in the bathroom until it was time to go.

"Don't think I'm gonna forget about it, Ree," she bellowed as I shut the door. "You owe me details at lunch!"

Yep, the semester was off to a great start already.

#  CHAPTER 2

Sam's Diner was packed and alive with ambient chatter. I guess I should've expected that, since the dining hall wouldn't reopen until Monday. That only left a handful of restaurants down Green Avenue, and Sam's is the best. To us, anyway. We can't afford much else.

The place is a time warp to an era with gingham curtains and Formica countertops. We love it, and fortunately for us, Sam loves us, too. He managed to get us into our usual booth in the back—the one closest to the kitchen and all of its greasy, tantalizing aromas. Some days I want to live there.

Sam is a big guy in his mid-fifties, with a potbelly that stretches his apron so tight it's a wonder it hasn't busted any seams. Aiden's convinced he used to be a mafia hit man. There's no evidence to support this, but I'm afraid to speculate one way or the other. What the man did in the past is his own business. I'm content to remain oblivious.

I shuddered and took a swig of my water.

Aiden peered across the table as he squirted hand sanitizer into his palm. "Rena, you look pale. Do you feel okay?"

"This, coming from Casper's understudy," Gabby muttered, smacking the bottom of the ketchup bottle. A red, smeary blob made its way down the side, and we all watched with mild interest.

"I'm fine," I said, turning back to Aiden, "and I'm sorry about earlier."

He shrugged, rubbing the clear, goopy mess into his hands. "Maybe another time."

Gabby gave the bottle a final pump before she set it off to the side with a huff. "Aiden, you smell like a hospital. Put that away."

I snickered. If there were two people I could count on for a distraction, it was these two. More than an hour had passed since the hallway incident, but I still couldn't get it out of my mind. Why did the thought of that guy make me so uneasy?

I picked at my French fries and stole a glance across the table. Maybe I'd bring it up. Hashing it out would help the memory fade, and I could just play it off as idle curiosity—which it was, mostly.

Aiden was busy wiping his silverware with a napkin.

Gabby must've caught my line of vision because she looked, too. "Sam's going to be mad if he sees you doing that."

His eyes widened, and he sank down in his seat. "Shh! I saw a water spot."

"Uh huh." She rolled her eyes and bit into an onion ring. "Tell him that."

"Shut up, Gabby! He'll hear you."

I laughed at the rosy circles brightening his cheeks, and my phone rang. I dug it out and glanced at the caller ID. _That's a Cleveland area code._ I hit the green button as I brought the phone to my ear. "Hello?"

"Good afternoon, Ms. Collins," a woman said in a pleasant tone. "I'm calling on behalf of R.S. Tobler Laboratories."

I must've made a face, because I found myself staring down two curious expressions across the table. "Okay?"

"We're contacting area college students about our influenza vaccine program. There are two free events coming up in—"

My spine straightened with indignation. "You called my _cell phone_ to tell me that?"

"It might be the only way to protect yourself, Ms. Collins. And those you love."

I gritted my teeth. "Sorry. Not interested." And with that, I hung up. Gabby and Aiden continued to stare.

"The stupid school must be selling our numbers," I grumbled and slid my phone back into my pocket. "Have you guys gotten any calls about flu shots?"

Aiden shook his head. "No, but I've already had mine."

"Shocking," Gabby said with a grin. "You? Hide from germs?"

"You had one, too!"

She scoffed. "For my _program_."

Oh God. I needed to change the subject before they wandered down that path again. "So, who was the guy who came to see you this morning, Aiden?"

"What do you mean?" He tilted his head to the side. "Nobody came to see me this morning."

Was he on crack? "I thought I saw a guy leave your suite."

"When? Wait. You came?"

I shrugged, flinching at the dull ache that'd settled around my shoulders. "Briefly."

He paused, fork in hand. "What did he look like?"

"Uh, tall, dark hair, blue eyes..." _Menacing, intense, devastatingly handsome._

Aiden slapped his hands down on the table, nearly lunging over the top. "That was _Wallace_ , Rena." His eyes looked like they were about to bulge out from behind his lenses. "Wallace!"

My heart stopped.

"What?" I froze with a fry halfway to my mouth. "What do you mean?"

Gabby leaned toward me. "You saw the seventh-floor psycho, and you didn't tell me?"

"No," I snapped, before I realized what I was saying. "I mean, yes, I saw him, but I don't think he seemed psycho in person." I fixed my bewildered gaze on Aiden. "Right?"

He looked taken aback. "How would I know?"

"You're his suitemate. You share a bathroom with him." My anxiety began to bubble over. "Does he hide bodies in the shower? Has he ever been escorted out in handcuffs? Think. Do you ever talk to the guy?"

Hot Guy couldn't have been Wallace. There was no way.

They both stared at me.

"What?"

Gabby was the first to recover, patting my arm. "You're kind of freakin' out, girl."

"I am not."

Aiden adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat. "To answer your questions—no."

My heart was racing. I felt like a detective who'd just stumbled over a lead. Why it mattered to me, I didn't know, but I was going to find out. "Why don't you talk to him?"

He blinked. "You know why. Believe me, if you had to hear the things I hear every night, you wouldn't talk to him either."

"So, what? You just ignore him?"

"Why are you so interested now?" Gabby cut in, looking at me as if I had grown two heads.

"I'm not interested. I'm just curious." I sighed. "Can't I be curious?"

"I don't ignore him," Aiden continued, rubbing the back of his neck. "I mean, if I see him at the sink in the morning, I give him a nod or say 'hey'. Then I just find a reason to leave."

"Why?"

"Rena! Geez." Gabby shook her head. "Give the boy a break. What's your fascination with the psy—er, what's his name?"

"Wallace," Aiden and I answered in unison.

She gave us a look and took a sip of her Diet Coke. "Whatever. I think we should just stay away from him. The guy could be dangerous."

"Fine." I wasn't going to tell them the rest of the story. The way they were talking, they'd probably have me report it to the school, and what complaint would I give them? That he'd activated my girl parts? It was best to just drop it.

"Hey, I got it!" Gabby straightened in her seat, inspiration lighting her features. "Maybe he's a nymphomaniac."

So much for dropping it.

I looked down at the table and pinched the bridge of my nose. "And what makes you say that?"

"Aiden's always hearing muffled screams and growls, right? That's rough sex. And you know how he rarely leaves his room? Solo sex! Duh."

A queasy feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. The thought of Wallace being a sex fiend was even more horrifying than the thought of him being a psychopath. "Okay, nobody calls that solo sex, and it doesn't matter, anyway. It's none of our business."

Aiden turned to Gabby, fighting another blush. "I don't think he's a...a what-you-said, anyway. I've never seen him bring anyone back to his room."

Gabby's eyes widened until I thought they were going to pop their sockets.

"Oh my gosh! What if he's got them chained up in there?" Her hand flew to her mouth, as if she were really considering it.

"Them?" I asked, already cringing.

"The girls he's sneaking in there. Or the guys. What if he's forcing them to act as sex slaves?" Gabby started fanning herself with a napkin. "Girl, Aiden will just have to come to us. We're not wanderin' around up there anymore."

I let out a deep breath. "Gabby, he honestly didn't seem like a sex offender."

Oops.

Her motions ceased, and she turned to face me. "How would you know? I thought you just caught a glimpse of him in the hallway."

"I did." The corners of my mouth pulled back in a grimace. "It was just kind of close up."

Neither of them said anything, waiting for me to continue. _Sigh._ "Okay, I ran smack into the guy, and he caught me."

"What?" Aiden looked aghast. "You let him touch you?"

"Is that what I said?" I pursed my lips. "He caught me when I lost my balance. It's not like I asked him to grab me."

"Oh my gosh, Rena!" Gabby's eyes were as wide as saucers. "Was he creepy? Do you think you're his next victim? Does he know where we live?"

I took another deep breath before answering, hoping to soothe my frazzled nerves. "He wasn't exactly creepy, but I was definitely scared for a second. I guess he's just kind of..."

"Intimidating?" Aiden offered in a dry tone.

"Yeah." I shot him a look, wondering where this attitude was coming from. "He was big and intimidating." I turned back to Gabby. "I doubt he knows where we live, and I have no intentions of becoming a victim, okay?"

She looked uncomfortable, but nodded anyway. The situation had been blown out of proportion, but there was nothing I could do about it now. Maybe if I stayed away from the seventh floor, I wouldn't have to worry about it. I mean, I went a whole semester without running into the guy. What were the odds I'd ever see him again? As far as I was concerned, Aiden could fight his own battles. The whole thing was over now. Done.

#  CHAPTER 3

That night, I awoke to a blaring alarm. I threw back the covers and gritted my teeth. "I hate people!"—a pretty routine reaction, considering Reid has more fire alarms than any other dorm on campus. Somehow we ended up with all of the drunk, immature pranksters this year. Lucky us.

Gabby cursed for a solid twenty seconds as she rolled out of bed, shielding her eyes. At least, I assumed she was cursing. It was all in Spanish and could've been part of a song, for all I knew.

A flashing light seared my retinas as I fumbled around. How people prone to seizures made it outside, I'd never know. It was something I'd have to ponder when the alarm wasn't threatening to shatter my eardrums.

I got up, shoved my socked feet into sneakers, and dropped my lanyard around my neck. We had the heat cranked up in our room, so I'd been sleeping in a black tank top and cartoon pajama pants. That'd go over really well outside.

I stumbled toward my wardrobe, flung the doors open, and grabbed the first hooded sweatshirt I saw. "C'mon!" I yelled over the alarm, making a break for the door.

The strobe continued to flicker as Gabby hurried across the room in incongruous, slow motion. "This sucks."

"I know." I jerked on the handle and propped the door open with my throbbing shoulder. "Go."

She muttered something and shoved the suite door back, before rushing to join the disheveled herd of coeds at the end of the hall. Our Resident Assistant was barking orders and ushering everyone toward the exit with a clipboard-turned-cattle-prod. "Come on, people!"

I wanted to throat punch whoever pulled the alarm.

We crowded down the narrow stairwell, our grumbles echoing off the walls. At each floor's landing, more people flooded the stairs, and everyone struggled to make room. God forbid we ever had a real emergency. We'd all die.

By the time we got to the lobby, I was sweating. I would've liked to have blamed the cramped passage, but the physical exertion probably had something to do with it. There was no need to bother with the sweatshirt. I was burning up.

Gabby caught the door, and I was right behind her. The winter air felt crisp, almost damp—a nice little wakeup call from Mother Nature. Too bad my own mother would've had my head, had she known I was outside in a tank top in January.

We followed the mass of people toward the parking lot and stopped beneath one of the street lights. Sirens screamed in the distance, but nobody seemed to notice. The whole thing had become standard procedure.

"Oh my gosh, Rena!" Gabby jerked me to the side.

"What?"

She lifted my arm with disbelief written all over her face. "Are these bruises?"

I blinked. Sure enough, there were markings around the sorest part of my shoulder.

"I don't know." A stupid response, but I really couldn't remember seeing them before. They weren't there when I showered this morning.

Her eyes widened, and she stepped around me. "Girl, what the hell have you been doing? They're on the other side, too!"

Okay, that was just weird. Faint, purplish blotches marked both shoulders, with five distinctive spots on each arm. They almost looked like—

"Are those handprints?" she shrieked, and a few guys turned around to look at us.

I felt my face heat up. She was going to make people think I was abused or something. How the hell was I supposed to know what'd happened to my arms?

"Rena?"

I looked up and spotted Aiden and his roommate, Josh, walking toward us. Aiden, I could've picked out right away, but Josh blends in with a crowd—light brown hair, hazel eyes, and skin like a humanoid chameleon. The boy just isn't memorable.

Forcing a smile, I gave a quick little finger-wave. "Hey."

Oh crap. They were closing in, and Aiden's eyes hadn't left my shoulders. How was I supposed to explain the bruising? Knowing him, he'd want a whole dissertation on the subject.

Without a plan in mind, I threw the sweatshirt over my head and backed toward the nearest escape route. "Um...sorry, guys. I think I, uh, see someone I know. I'll catch up with you in a minute."

I spun on my heel and swallowed the guilt forming in my throat. Since when did I run from my friends? I jerked my arms through the sleeves. And why did it feel like the crowd was closing in on me from every direction?

The influx of nervous energy propelled my feet into motion, and I broke through the crowd—making for the birch tree at the edge of the lot.

"Are you okay?"

My heart kick-started a wild rhythm as I whirled around. One hand automatically shot up to block my face, and the other fisted tightly. "W-What?"

"Whoa, whoa." Hot Guy—I mean, _Wallace_ —lifted both palms in defense, gesturing he meant no harm. "I wasn't trying to sneak up on you."

I lowered my fists and clutched a hand to my chest. "We've got to stop meeting like this."

His features darkened as if suddenly overcome with shadow. "Yeah, about that..."

#  CHAPTER 4

He was working up to something—I could tell by the way he shifted from one foot to the other, blue eyes locked on the barren, gnarled branches above. What could he possibly have to say that was that difficult?

I watched as strong, well-defined arms crossed over his chest and creased his t-shirt. For the early hour that it was, that shirt should've been wrinkled. Slept in. The temperature rose as my gaze lowered. His gym pants were twisted, and his shoes hadn't even been tied. Had he been wearing _anything_ when the fire alarm went off?

As soon as the image registered, I jerked my head down—too embarrassed to look him in the eyes. Maybe Gabby was right. Maybe he really was a sex fiend. So, why did he follow _me_?

He cleared his throat, and I jumped.

"I didn't mean to hurt you earlier."

I tilted my head back. "What?"

His expression softened with an indiscernible emotion. "Your arms."

My now-covered arms? When did he see them?

"What makes you say that...?" I paused, motioning for him to fill in the blanks. There would be no case of mistaken identity, this time.

"Wallace." He started to reach out and hesitated. "Uh, Wallace Blake."

I grabbed his hand and gave my strongest handshake, ignoring the tingling sensation that spread throughout my palm and up my wrist. My fear was morphing into adrenaline. I could do this. I could take the madman. "All right, Wallace Blake, what makes you say that?"

He pulled his hand back. "You're already bruising."

"How do you know?" I crossed my arms and spread my legs into a stance so wide, my line of vision dropped to the center of his chest. It probably wasn't as intimidating as I'd hoped.

The sirens got louder as the trucks rounded the corner and came to an abrupt stop.

He clenched his jaw. "I saw your arms." With a tilt of his head, he gestured toward the other side of the parking lot. "I didn't mea—"

"That?" I cut in, too uncomfortable to hear the rest. "That was nothing."

Urgent flashes of red dashed over his face, but he didn't so much as blink—his gaze determinedly locked on mine. "You sure?"

He wasn't getting it.

"Look, I appreciate you coming to check on me, but I'm fine. Really." Without thinking, I pushed on his chest, just as I would've Aiden's or my brother's. "You've atoned."

He didn't budge.

My mouth came unhinged as I realized how the gesture might've come across, and I ripped my hands away. "Sorry, I didn't mean to push you. Or try to push you. It was more like I was pushing your concern away. Not that I don't appreciate your—"

His dimples betrayed the slightest of grins, and he shook his head. "I get it. It's fine."

My heart skipped a few beats. For a second there, I thought I was going to have to run. As much as I wanted to downplay his reputation, I was still bracing for some kind of psychotic meltdown. Gorgeous or not, the guy could be a time bomb.

I needed to come up with an excuse to get away. Whatever he was doing, it was starting to have an effect on me. I couldn't afford to let my guard down—not when I was this tired.

He studied me for a moment. "So, it doesn't hurt?"

"Dude, just let it go," I pleaded before I realized what I was saying. It was obvious he was forcing himself to stand there and make small talk. Why prolong the torture?

"Let what go?"

"This." I gestured between us, before smoothing my hair against the wind. "I told you I'm fine, so there's no reason for you to worry about it. It's not like we're friends, where you have to keep prodding about it."

"Fine." His gaze lifted over my head, and he nodded toward the building. "Looks like they're going in, anyway."

"Good." I glanced over my shoulder. Sure enough, everyone was starting to swarm the entrance. Well, almost everyone.

Gabby came charging through the crowd. "Hey!" She waved her arm back and forth. "I've been looking all ov—" She stopped short a few feet away. "Oh, hi."

Ah, hell. I knew that look. She had no clue who he was, and she was undressing him with her eyes.

"Gabriela Hernandez." She looked up through her lashes, flashing a demure smile. "I'm Rena's roommate."

He furrowed his brow like he was trying to decipher her words.

"I'm Rena," I cut in, hoping to avoid further confusion. "Rena Collins."

His gaze slid back and forth between us, and he finally nodded. "Ah."

Gabby didn't miss a beat, sidling up beside him as we wandered toward the line at the door. "And you are?"

He didn't seem fazed by the blatant attention. "Wallace Blake."

She jerked her chin back, looking explosive. "The crazy guy?"

"Gabby!" I slammed my palm against my forehead. "Filter."

Her eyes widened. "I-I...well, I just..." She bounced on the balls of her feet, eyeing the diminishing crowd. "Oh look, there's Aiden."

Before I could say anything, she darted ahead, leaving me to deal with the consequences. Great. I ran a hand through my hair and glanced up at him. "She didn't mean..."

He offered me a grim, emotionless smile. "Hey, don't worry about it. It's not like we're friends, right?"

Guilt rushed past on a frigid gust, and all at once, it hit me. Her assumption had hurt him.

_My_ assumption had hurt him.

I was wrong, and I couldn't remember the last time I felt so bad about it.

#  CHAPTER 5

_Fweeeeet_!

My body jolted and I gripped the mattress, struggling to place the shrill, skull-piercing sound. I cracked one eye open. "What the—"

"Could you hear me, if I were getting attacked?" Gabby stood by the door, holding a small, silver tube to her lips. "Do you think it gets attention?"

"We'll soon find out," I said in a rough voice, "Because I'm going to kill you."

She gave a cutesy little grin and flopped down on her bed. "Hey, rape whistles are the first line of defense. You should be happy." The metal glinted in the light as it dropped to her chest, following the weight of her keys.

I wasn't happy.

My head was throbbing, and she wasn't making any sense. I pushed myself into a sitting position. "Remind me again why I'm happy."

"Uh, I woke up early and walked all the way to the security office in the snow?" She reached into her pocket, produced a second whistle, and tossed it in my direction. "Put that on your lanyard. It'll help protect us from Wallace."

_Wallace..._

I caught the whistle with both hands and flinched, recalling how the night had ended. After Gabby's little faux pas, his entire demeanor had changed...

No, that wasn't right. I'd been the one to hurt him; her outburst just brought everything out into the open.

He didn't say another word after that, not even when we crowded into the same elevator. I'd been given the silence I asked for, and it was suffocating. By the time I made it back to our room, my stomach was in knots.

I didn't say anything when I collapsed onto my bed. I just lay there, praying the whole thing had been a dream. Gabby must've interpreted that as me being miffed about what happened. The whistle was her peace offering.

I got up and straightened my pajamas. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

It was a typical exchange. In a room this small, there's no place to hide tension. One of us always ends up buying the other's forgiveness.

"So, what were you guys talking about last night?" she asked.

I drew in a slow breath and forced the whistle onto the tiny, metal ring. She had to bring it up. "He apologized."

Her gaze lingered on my shoulders. "For running into you?"

"Yes, and before you ask, I don't know why I bruised," I said. "I'm probably just vitamin deficient or something."

Her brows knit. "Ree, that's all that happened, right?"

"Yeah, I told you that."

"Okay, because he's a really big guy, and you're pretty little. I just don't want to think about him shoving you around or something. I mean, if he did...you'd tell me, right?"

I felt offended. I shouldn't have, but I did. She didn't think I could take care of myself—even worse, thought I would lie about it. "He didn't lay a hand on me, other than to keep me from falling." I held up my hand like I was taking an oath. "I promise."

And if she didn't buy it, I was going to smack her with my oath hand.

She eyed me for a moment and sighed, crossing her arms. "Okay, I believe you, but Aiden's going to need some convincing. He doesn't trust that guy."

"He doesn't trust anyone." I stretched with a yawn. "He'll be fine."

"I don't know, but I definitely didn't expect the infamous suitemate to look like _that_." Her eyes went round, and she fanned herself. "Boy's got some serious tall, dark, and handsome going on."

I crossed the room, too brittle to feign nonchalance. "I guess."

"Oh, whatever. Don't act like you didn't notice. Those big Neanderthal types are right up your alley." She snickered, back to her usual self. "If he weren't bat shit crazy, I'd go for him."

"How do you know he's crazy?" I yanked the cabinet doors open and surveyed my wardrobe. A thrifty, colorful mess—just like me. "Everyone keeps saying that, but how do any of us know?"

"Well, it's not like there's any other explanation. The school isolated him. He's always screaming and growling to himself in his room. He's gorgeous, but nobody talks to him. You think any of that's normal?"

I made a face. She had a point. "I don't know. I just feel bad writing him off like that."

"Do you like him or something?"

I spun around. "Are you serious? I don't even know the guy. I'm just trying to be fair."

She raised one eyebrow. "Okay, but you never had a problem with it before."

_Ouch._

I turned around, grabbed a random t-shirt, and bumped the doors shut with my elbow.

"Well, maybe it's because I've got a face to put with the stories now." My stomach twisted. "It's like those commercials raising money for kids in third-world countries. You see them and feel like a jerk." Not my most poignant speech.

"I guess." She shot me another look. "I just don't get why you're defending him all of the sudden."

Oh my gosh. I had to leave before I started having PMS-induced, homicidal thoughts again. "I'm gonna hit The Rec," I said, cramming things into my gym bag. "We can finish this later."

"What's your problem?"

"I don't have a problem." I hoisted the bag over my shoulder and headed for the door. "I'll see you later."

• • •

For the past five semesters, the Fitness & Recreation Center has been my sanctuary. I mean, I love my friends, but this is the only place I can go off the radar. Nobody bothers me here. I think it has something to do with the smell—a mix of sweat, leather, and chlorine _._

I fished around inside my bag until I found my red wraps. For now, I had the bag room to myself, but it probably wouldn't last long. With quick, practiced movements, I bound both wrists and hands before shoving them into black gloves. I'm not much of a fitness freak.

I may frequent this facility, but it's not in pursuit of anything admirable. To be honest, I'm just a vice girl. When things get tough, I tear into a heavy bag. It's the only socially acceptable way to indulge in my love of hitting things.

Oh, and it's a workout.

I shadowed punches for a few minutes, releasing sharp breaths through my mouth. I'm the first to admit I'm a novice. I mean, I know the basic techniques well enough; I'm just leery of someone coming in to scrutinize my form. I've never dealt well with criticism—constructive or otherwise.

I looked up. The bag hung there, smug, ready to accept the challenge of my abuse. I flexed my fingers before forming tight fists and dropped into a familiar stance. This was my meditative time. I needed this.

The speakers cranked a rock song, and I tried to absorb the heavy, pounding rhythm into my heart. _One, two, three, four—jab, cross, hook, uppercut._ My breaths came in perfect time as I slammed my fists into the worn material. The bag swung, and the chain creaked.

For whatever reason, the whole Wallace fiasco had me worked up. He probably hated me after the way I'd acted last night, and who could blame him? I wiped at my forehead with the back of my arm. _Plus, Gabby and Aiden are convinced I'm caught up in some conspiracy._ All I'd done was run into the guy. Twice.

I gritted my teeth and really lit into the bag. It wasn't fair. Nobody knew Wallace—not even me. Someone just decided he was dangerous and _bam_. The guy was socially blacklisted. Aiden hadn't intended the stories to get that far out of hand, had he?

My breath caught in my lungs, and I paused with one arm extended. The guilt made sense now. I'd been one of Wallace's condemners. I'd let that prejudice affect my actions, even though he'd been nothing but respectful of me. No wonder I'd hurt him. I narrowed my eyes and punched the bag again for good measure.

Sometimes I hated being right.

So, what could I do about it? I couldn't just waltz up to his room and say, "Hi, remember me? Well, before we met, I defamed you and lived in fear of your existence. No hard feelings, 'kay?"

"Stupid," I growled, throwing a hard right. It wasn't like I'd done anything to cause the guy physical harm. Why did I feel so bad about it? No one else did.

Maybe Gabby was right. I was taking the whole thing way too personally. It'd be better for all of us if I just forgot about it. What else could I do at this point, anyway?

For once, I was actually looking forward to the start of classes.

• • •

When I got back to the dorm, it was already evening. I'd put off my return for as long as I could. Shuffling past the hallway windows, I took a quick peek out at the parking lot. Irrational as it was, I felt compelled to check on my car every now and then. God forbid anything ever happen to it. My brother would kill me.

I'd been driving the thing for six months, but it still felt like I was borrowing Drew's car. He'd reluctantly parted with The Beast after his ultra-prissy girlfriend, Brittani, refused to ride in it. Apparently it was too juvenile for her—whatever that meant. It's a shame my poor, idiotic brother is so whipped. If she'd said that to me, I would've rolled up to her house in a school bus.

Oh well. He'd cut me a deal, and in return, I kept his '03 Sentra in the family. I grimaced, imagining Drew's adamant correction, "Se-R, Spec. V!" Like I knew what that meant. I rolled my eyes and shifted the bags in my arms. I'd stopped to pick up a few things on my way back, and if I didn't keep moving, I was going to lose something.

I took a few steps, somehow managing to balance the bags and jerk the suite door open at the same time. I staggered inside and threw everything onto the old loveseat.

Then I saw it.

There, on the doorknob, was a neon orange scrunchie, circa 1990. The presence of this hair accessory meant one thing—Gabby was _entertaining_ a visitor. I couldn't go in.

With a groan, I hefted the bags and stomped back to the elevator. _No choice now._ By the time I got to Aiden's room, I was losing feeling in my right hand. I kicked at the door until he answered.

He took one look at my frazzled expression and moved out of my way. Bless him.

I grunted a thank you and dumped the bags by his bed. "So, Gabby has a friend over."

"Already?" Aiden shut the door and sat down at his desk. "We haven't even started the semester yet."

"She's ambitious," Josh called over his shoulder, eyes glued to his computer monitor. I caught a glimpse of some half-naked chick hacking away at a monster and knew he was gaming. Fortunately for us, he wasn't wired to his headset tonight. That usually involved a lot of yelling. And flinching, on our parts.

I fell back onto Aiden's plaid bedspread, making myself at home. "Sorry for disappearing last night."

"That's okay. Gabby called this afternoon and told me what happened. She said you'd flip out again if I brought it up."

"I didn't flip out." I crossed my arms over my chest. "I just think we should give the guy a chance. I feel bad." A moment of silence ticked by, and I added, "I don't think he's crazy."

"See if you say that in a few minutes," Josh mumbled.

I propped myself up on one arm. "What's in a few minutes?"

Aiden glanced at the clock and then back at me. His shoulders lifted as he took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "You'll see."

"Cryptic much?" I glanced up at the clock, just as he'd done. Eight thirty already? No wonder I was hungry.

"So, you went shopping?" He gestured toward the mess I'd littered in front of his bed. "And...to the gym?"

I almost laughed. The boy had a way with conversation. "Yeah, I was feeling a little cagey."

"Oh, so Gabby got under your skin, and you fled the scene." He flashed a cheeky grin. "I'm getting better at this stuff, right?"

I chucked a pillow at his face. "A little too good."

It skidded over the top of his head and landed with a soft thump on the floor. He laughed and opened his mouth to retort but was silenced by a muffled cry.

I blinked, looking around the room. The TV wasn't on.

Aiden's mouth formed a thin line as he eyed their shared wall, concern lining his forehead. I followed his gaze and felt my blood run cold. The sound had come from Wallace's room.

We listened for a moment, and a loud growl emanated from the far wall, followed by a thud. I could practically feel the color drain from my face. Wallace...

_THUD!_

I jumped as a hoarse scream penetrated the barrier, echoing in my mind. "What's going on?"

"Do we really want to know?" Josh tilted his head back but didn't take his eyes off the screen. "Just turn on some music to drown him out."

_Drown him out?_ I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "What if he needs help?" I sat up with a sick feeling gnawing at my insides.

"He doesn't need help, Rena," Aiden cut in, giving me one of those you're-too-naïve-to-understand looks. "It happens every night."

"You've never checked on him, though, have you?" I flinched as something slammed into the wall, followed by a broken gasp.

"The first couple of nights, we figured he and his roommate were in a fight or something. It wasn't like we were going to get in the middle of it."

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. _Bystander mentality_. "And after his roommate moved out?"

"We called the front desk when he got loud," Josh offered, mindlessly banging away at his keyboard.

Aiden nodded vigorously. "Yeah, we called the front desk and reported it. The first time, they sent out that e-mail. The second time, they said they were already aware of his condition, so we let it go."

"So, you're telling me you were both too scared to walk ten feet and knock on the guy's door? That's why you wanted me to confront him?" A strong sense of injustice wracked my nerves as I sat there, fingers twitching. "And what do you mean by 'his condition'?"

He shrugged. "They didn't say, and since they made such a big deal about confidentiality, he's probably got some mental illness. It's not like they can kick him out, because they'd be facing a discrimination suit. We're just stuck ignoring him, for now."

My blood pounded in my ears as he spoke. I knew Aiden wasn't a cruel guy, but his indifference made him a stranger. _Was that how I sounded last night?_ I put my head in my hands. Hadn't I decided to stop dwelling on Wallace's problems? We weren't friends. We had nothing to do with each other.

I bristled. That was it. We didn't have anything to do with each other, because I'd drawn a line between us before we ever met. We weren't friends, because of my choices. What was wrong with me? I wasn't upset with Aiden; I was disgusted with myself.

A tremendous weight sank into my shoulders, where the bruises had formed. What right did I have to criticize anyone, when I was just as guilty? Because of our stupid assumptions, we were forcing some guy to suffer through the entire year alone. "I'm done."

Aiden looked up. "What?"

Nervous energy pulled me to my feet, and I began to pace, trying to work it all out in my mind. "We can't be those people, Aiden."

He looked confused. "What people? What are you talking about?"

"I don't want to look back and regret my time here." I threw a frustrated gesture, flicking my hand out. "I don't want to be the reason some mental guy's scorned all over campus."

"Why would you be the—"

" _We_ are the reason." I stopped and looked him in the eye. "We sat back and let those stories go viral, without bothering to find out the truth. We don't even know what's wrong with him."

Another tortured scream penetrated the walls, resonating in my heart.

"Screw it," I said. "It doesn't matter what's wrong with him. We're not going to act like he doesn't exist. Not anymore."

"Well, I guess I get what you mean." He stood up and leaned against his dresser. "But you've been acting really touchy about this whole Wallace thing. Is there something you're not telling us?"

"Do you live inside a Lifetime movie, Aiden?" I snapped, crossing the room. "I swear, I can't say anything around here. If you guys won't deal with this, I will."

Josh jerked his head back to look at me, like I'd completely lost it. "What are you going to do?"

"Watch." I gave the door handle a jerk and stormed into the common area. My fist shook as I raised it, giving the wood grain a sharp rap. _C'mon, c'mon. Just let me get this over with._

One minute passed and then another. I shifted my weight and knocked again, listening to the muffled groans from within. Wallace wasn't making this any easier.

Aiden cracked his door open and peered out with a grave expression. "When I asked you to talk to him, I meant in the daylight hours."

"I'm not doing this for your benefit." I pounded on the door, and we both jumped as something made a loud crack.

He heaved a sigh, glancing at the other door. "Well, it seems like he'd rather be left alone."

I stared at the door, slowly lowering my arm. How could I retreat after making such a bold declaration? Why couldn't Wallace just open the door and assure me it was all a big misunderstanding?

With a half-defeated sigh, I plunked down on the sofa wedged in the corner. "I'll just wait until this"—I gestured toward the door—"passes."

Aiden sighed again, slipping past the door to sit beside me. "It'll be another twenty or thirty minutes. You might need some company."

I looked at him out of the corner of my eye and felt my lips pull back in an unexpected smile. "Thank you."

#  CHAPTER 6

After the screaming subsided and the noises stopped, I took a deep breath and pounded on the door again—mentally preparing myself for another bout of waiting. It wasn't like I had anywhere to go. Gabby was still _occupying_ the room downstairs. I had all the time in the world.

Not that he'd ever answer the freakin' door.

I was about to retreat to my spot on the sofa, when the door jerked open with a barely-perceptible whoosh of air. My hair fanned at the abrupt vacuum, and I swallowed, feeling everything I'd planned to say disappear with a single glance. "Wallace..."

It looked like he'd just escaped a brutal assault, leaving half of his face swollen, red, and glistening with sweat—his left eyelid lowered at half-mast. "What?" he snapped, swiping the back of his wrist under his nose.

"I...I..." My voice jumped an octave. "Are you okay?"

His narrowed, unfocused gaze met mine. "I'm fine."

He didn't look fine. He looked dead.

"I just thought I heard something and wanted to check on you." My adrenaline fed off of his fearsome exterior, burning my legs with the desire to run. It was like meeting the manifestation of our fears for the first time. He seemed so different from last night. "I-Is there someone with you?"

His austere features darkened, and he shifted from one side to the other. "Sure you wanna ask the crazy guy?"

_Ouch. Okay, I deserved that._

He gripped the doorknob and tilted his chin, looking past me. "How about you?"

I turned as Aiden paled and backed away.

"N-No," he sputtered. "I-I mean you're not crazy. You're just..." He rubbed his hands on his pants and jerked his head toward his own door in a gesture for us to go. "We'll leave you alone now."

My heart raced. I was petrified, but my mind was reeling with possibilities. If I left, I'd have to forego what little ground I had already gained. Was it worth it? I couldn't just spout idealistic lectures and then punk out when it came down to it, could I?

"Look, I just wanted to see if you were okay." _Also, please don't hurt us._

"Well, you've done your good deed for the day." Wallace stepped back and started to close the door. "You'll sleep well tonight."

"Wait! That's not what I—"

"Goodnight." He shut the door with a soft click.

That was it. The discussion was over, and so was my visit to the seventh floor.

I stumbled back to my room in a daze of frustration, not caring about the orange scrunchie on the doorknob or Gabby's extracurricular activities. All I wanted to do was crash in my own bed and figure out what happened. My face was still burning.

I jerked the key in the lock and kicked the door back. With what little balance I could muster, I grabbed all of the bags and made my way inside. "Don't mind me."

The room was dark, but I could see silhouetted forms from the window's glow. Worse, I could hear the rustle of sheets off to the left. I groaned and charged ahead, avoiding eye contact. "Seriously?"

"Yeah," a male voice muttered, followed by a distinct _zipping_ sound. "I'm out."

I nearly snorted, tossing my bags beside what felt like my bedpost.

"Jinx, wait!" Gabby called, her voice rough with desperation. Something hit the floor, and I heard the pad of hurried footsteps. A second later, the light flicked on.

I recoiled, throwing an arm up to block the light.

There, standing two feet from the door, was a man who could've easily passed for some celebrity stunt double. His skin was smooth umber poured over hardened muscle. As he bent to shove his socked feet into boots, he snatched his shirt off the floor. "I'll call you."

He wasn't going to call her.

With that, he swept out the door, leaving the two of us alone. I slid my gaze back to Gabby, raising one eyebrow. She was clutching a sheet around her body, and her dark hair was mussed, sticking every direction. Smudges of mascara circled her eyes, where it'd rubbed off like a raccoon. The girl was a mess.

"Rena!" Her eyes lit with Latin fire. "Didn't you see the scrunchie?"

"Saw it, left, came back." I bent to paw through my gym bag, sorting out things to toss in the hamper. "And did you seriously just sleep with someone named _Jinx_?"

She huffed, smoothing her hair back. "His name is André Jenkins. _Jinx_ is his stage name."

"God help us all." I turned away from her, sorting through my supplies. "Stage name for what?"

"He's a dancer," she replied. "I'm dressed."

I couldn't stifle a snicker as I straightened, moving to stuff a load of packaging into the bin. "Why doesn't that surprise me?"

She rolled her eyes and flopped back on her bed. "Whatever. So, why'd you come back early?"

I carefully blanked my expression. "I just didn't feel like hanging around Aiden's place anymore."

"Why?"

"What do you mean? I was tired, Gabby. I've been running around all day." I opened my dresser and rooted around for something to wear as pajamas. It wasn't like I was lying. I really _was_ tired.

"Did something happen?" She walked over and threw the deadbolt on the door. "Did you guys get into a fight?"

"How often does Aiden fight?"

She considered it for a moment. "Good point."

I couldn't tell her about Wallace—that he was every bit the nightmare we'd imagined him to be. The shock was still fresh. I hadn't processed it yet. The only thing I did know was that I'd been wrong. _Again._

#  CHAPTER 7

I sat in Social Policy Analysis, chin resting in one hand, pencil poised in the other. My eyes were closing of their own accord, and every few seconds, I jolted in alarm. It wasn't the most exciting class I'd ever taken.

We'd spent the first hour going over the syllabus and the second hour digging into a PowerPoint. _Bleh._ The material was dry, and the textbook smelled like binding glue. It was a wonder I didn't pass out sooner. Why couldn't I substitute the class for field work?

Just when I'd given up all hope of staying attentive, the last slide projected onto the screen. I perked up, embracing my second wind as the professor strode down the center aisle.

"All right. It's 11:40 A.M. I'll give you the last ten minutes to start your assignment. You can either do it here or take it—"

The screech of twenty chairs, as they were pushed back in near-perfect synchronization, interrupted her speech. I gathered my things and crammed them into my messenger bag. With any luck, I could get to the dining hall before the big rush at noon.

I stood up and hastily buttoned myself into my purple, clearance-special pea coat. It pleated at the waist and had big, funky buttons down the front. Slinging my bag overtop, I merged into the line for the door. _Go, people!_

It's one thing to have a legitimate reason to hold up the flow of traffic—like, maybe someone is on crutches or something. That's fine. Well, except for them. It sucks for them. But pausing to have a conversation in the doorway? I blew out an aggravated sigh. _Un-ac-cep-ta-ble._

"A little impatient today?" a smooth voice cut in, interrupting my thoughts.

Was someone talking to me? I cast a quick glance over my shoulder and found a pair of amused brown eyes taking in my every move. My cheeks burned. "Uh, yeah, I guess."

The guy grinned, studying me like he had some kind of divine insight. Laugh lines creased the corners of his eyes, and his warm gaze smoldered. "And it's only the first day of class, sweets. How are we going to make it through fifteen weeks?"

I blinked. Was this guy for real? Who starts up a conversation like that out of nowhere? I wasn't shy or anything, but the familiar language was throwing me off. "I guess we'll have to manage."

"Of course we will." He leaned back against one of the tables as the line started to filter past him. His sandy blond hair was a little on the shaggy side, with stray tufts sticking out beneath his knit cap. Where I'm from, we call it a toboggan, but up here, they call it a beanie. Either way, it worked for him.

He wore a wrinkled t-shirt with a plaid button-up thrown over top. For some reason, he'd opted to wear a gray scarf but skipped the addition of a winter coat. If he was going for the casual, unkempt look, he'd achieved it.

I flashed a polite smile and turned around as the line moved forward. _That was awkward._ At least I'd have something to talk about at lunch.

When I finally made it out into the hallway, I started booking it for the west doors. Somewhere, there was a tray full of tater tots with my name on it. I needed to take a shortcut.

"So, what's your name?"

"R-Rena." I flinched as the guy suddenly flanked my side, casually strolling with his hands in his pockets. _Curse my little legs and their inability to take long strides!_

He nodded. "Maverick." I must've given him the crazy stare because he went on to continue, "I go by my last name. I mean, if your name was Johan, wouldn't you?"

"Okay." I laughed, shaking my head. "I'll give you that one."

He grinned, jumping ahead to open the thick, metal door. "Ladies first."

"Thank you." I squinted at the bright snow, slightly disoriented as we made our way down the sidewalk. "Johan, huh?"

He shrugged. "My grandfather was Swiss."

"That's cool." I shoved my hands into my pockets and tromped through the bank of snow that separated me from the parking lot. I'd sacrifice comfort for my tots.

"You going to the dining hall?" He followed without blinking as I ventured off path.

The cold soaked into my pant legs, and I shivered.

"Yeah, I'm supposed to meet my friends." _Hint. Leave._

"Cool, cool. I've got time to kill. Mind if I tag along?" He put a hand behind my back and steered me around a parked SUV. "Of course you don't, right? Let's hurry. I've got a hankering for French fries."

I opened and shut my mouth like a fish out of water. How did that just happen? And why would anyone choose fries over tater tots? Nothing made sense today.

Maverick started humming, and I zoned out as we made our way to the dining hall. It was just one lunch. Not even an hour. I could do this...

The sound of Gabby's fake laugh assaulted my ears—the one she used when she was trying to be witty. I blinked, barely remembering getting from point A to point B. We were all seated at our usual table, having already gone through the line, and Maverick was busy making friends.

"So, I said to the chancellor, 'No, your _hat_ is an abomination!'" He grinned and tucked his arms behind his head, stretching his long legs under the table.

Gabby burst into a fit of giggles, nearly choking on her Diet Coke. She'd been leaning in since the first whiff of male pheromone. Of course, to her, it would've been the same had it been female pheromone. She gets a little manic around strangers.

I shot Aiden a pointed stare, and he shook his head. He looked pretty uncomfortable with the sudden addition to our lunch reservation. I wish I would've had time to warn him.

"That's so awesome," Gabby said, exhaling the words in a rush as she stared at Maverick. "So, your family travels abroad every summer?"

_Bull._ People with that much money don't go to school in Ohio.

"Yeah." He grinned. "Every summer."

This would be the last time I brought home a stray. It was annoying and disrupted the flow of lunch. I stabbed a tater tot and smeared it through a blob of ranch dressing, idly scanning the room.

The dining area was packed and filled with a hundred simultaneous conversations. I inhaled and took comfort in the delicious, fried aroma. As sad as it was, the promise of tots had gotten me through the morning. It was Monday, and I knew they would be here waiting for me.

Tomorrow would be an entirely different story. They rotated in all kinds of things throughout the week, from pierogies to stir fry. And, of course, there were always classic staples on hand. A salad and baked-potato bar, a deli counter, oven-baked pizza, et cetera. What more could prisoners—I mean _students_ , ask for?

I caught a glimpse of movement in my peripheral vision and turned my head. Of all the people in the lunchroom, I'd unintentionally honed in on Wallace. _Why?_ He maneuvered through the sea of students with more grace than a man his size should've possessed and set his tray down on a table near the wall. I couldn't tear my gaze away as he sat down, alone, without any guise of preoccupation. He didn't have his books out or anything.

For a moment, I wondered how he'd never caught my eye before. Even without knowing who he was, I should've noticed someone like him. I mean, the man had some serious muscles outlined beneath that thermal henley. The thick, gray material was stretched tight across his triceps and the wide expanse of his back. It was all I could do to keep from snapping a photo with my phone.

I didn't, of course, because the memory of last night was still fresh in my mind. Maybe it was a good thing that I hadn't noticed him before. The hot guys were always jerks.

I was about to distract myself with something else, when I noticed someone timidly approach his table. She had porcelain skin and long auburn hair tied back in a ponytail. I cocked an eyebrow. Why would someone wear a dress in the middle of January? Thermal tights are cool and all, but not enticing enough to bust out in the snowbelt.

She plastered on a smile when he looked up, nervously wringing her hands. They spoke for a few moments, and then she laughed. _What the hell?_ If his back weren't to me, I could've seen his reaction, too. For some reason, he didn't strike me as the easily amused type.

Then again, who knew? Yesterday, he didn't strike me as the grudge-harboring, angry type, but I'd been wrong about that one. I hunkered down in my seat and crossed my arms. _Jerk_.

She pulled out the chair across from him, bright-eyed and animated. Were they going to have lunch together? They certainly seemed chummy.

It hadn't even crossed my mind that he could have friends. Sometimes, it's hard to remember that Reid cliques and stigmas don't always resonate throughout the entire campus. It was entirely possible for others to see him in a different light. She probably took one look at his rugged features and made it her mission to cure his brooding ways.

_Yeah, good luck with that, sister._

I felt my brows pull together as I watched them. Were they _together_? Nobody had mentioned anything about Wallace having a girlfriend. Surely Aiden would've said something, if he knew.

_Wait._

What was I doing? I shook my head and stabbed at my plate again, only to hear my fork scrape against the plastic. _Huh?_ I looked down to find nothing more than a white smear where the ranch had been. "What the hell? Who ate my tots?"

"You did." Aiden gave me a strange look. "Or rather, you inhaled them. You totally zoned out on us for a minute."

I laughed in a strained, awkward tone. "Wow. I guess I did."

Gabby grinned at me, programming something into her phone. "Girl, there's something wrong with your head. Did you hear Maverick invite us to hang out Saturday night?"

"I, uh...no." I rubbed my wrist, feeling sheepish all of the sudden. "Sorry."

She rolled her eyes. "Well, I told him we'd come. Aiden's gotta go home this weekend to see his sister's play, so he can't make it."

"Oh. Okay." I took a sip of my water and swallowed a little too loudly. It wasn't that I didn't like Maverick. I just wasn't used to diving into the deep end of the friendship pool. I was more of a wader.

"Good!" Maverick flashed me a grin and stood up, grabbing his tray in the process. "Then I shall see you two lovely ladies in front of Foster around seven thirty on Saturday."

I looked up and forced a smile. "Sounds great." _Freakin' great._

#  CHAPTER 8

Much to my dismay, the week flew by. Before I knew it, I was standing outside of Foster Hall with Gabby. When I'd dressed that morning, boots and jeggings had been acceptable attire. Now, they felt like little protection against the frigid January wind.

I jumped in place, waiting for Maverick to let us in. Our student IDs didn't work in the other dorms, so we needed an escort to get in. Apparently, Wilcox took its security notes from the Pentagon.

"Here he comes! Here he comes!" Gabby squealed, moving aside so he could open the door.

I nearly barreled over both of them, anxious to feel the lobby's warmth. "Thank goodness," I panted, cursing winter for stealing the breath from my lungs.

We showed our identification and checked in with the desk attendant. Being the lucky soul that he is, Maverick lives on the first floor, so we didn't have to go far. He unlocked the door and pushed it open above us. "Ladies..."

"Thanks." I slid past him and stood the middle of the room, feeling more than a little awkward.

Gabby surveyed the area and flopped onto the nearest bed. "Nice place."

"Thanks, babe. We try." He grinned and shut the door. "I don't know where my roommate wen—"

"Right here," an oddly familiar voice called, stepping out of the bathroom. _Oh crap._ It was the guy from the other night.

Gabby's eyes nearly bugged out of her head as she sprang into a standing position. "Jinxy! Hey!"

He eyed her and shot Maverick a look before answering. "Hey, what's going on?"

She twisted her hands. "We, uh—"

"Maverick and I are in class together," I interjected, ready for damage control. "We were gonna hang out tonight, so I brought Gabby with me. Gosh, I had no clue you guys lived together. It's nice to officially meet you!"

Jinx blinked at me and nodded in slow motion.

"You too." He threw another glance at his roommate for verification.

Maverick rocked back on his heels, grinning from ear to ear. "Most definitely."

I gave an audible sigh of relief and quickly masked it with a cough. "So, we all know each other, then. Awesome." _Now get me the hell out of here._

Gabby looked like she'd just dodged a bullet and was practically beaming. "Yes!"

Maverick gave a thumbs up, slipping past us to open a tiny fridge. "Can I offer you ladies a beverage?" He gestured toward the open shelves and then to a milk crate full of various bottles of liquor. "Anything you want. If we don't have it, we can get it."

_Shoot me. I want you to shoot me._

Gabby bounded across the room and dropped to her knees to investigate the selection. "Ree, check it out!"

I rubbed my temples, fighting the urge to throw a chair at someone. Had I walked onto the set of a cliché college movie? Maybe I was in the minority, but devoting a night to getting drunk didn't exactly appeal to me. "Look, I'm really not feeling this tonight. Maybe I should just—"

"Aww! C'mon." She was already clutching a bottle to her chest, giving me puppy eyes. "When was the last time we did anything fun? You never go out with me. I wanna have fun with my roomie!"

The guys gave nods of encouragement, totally enamored by her plea. Of course they were. It didn't take long for people to fall under her spell of social magnetism. She'd made it three to one without trying.

_Fine._ Maybe a compromise was in order. There was no way I was getting out of this without starting some kind of unnecessary drama. I'd just have one drink and make sure nobody slipped any "additives" into the mix. Actually, a drink might be just the thing to make this situation bearable.

I slumped and blew out a sigh. "Okay, but just one..."

A chorus of cheers sounded around the room, and I knew I had a long night ahead of me. _Fantastic._

• • •

Hours later, I was propped up in the corner. "Sloshie, sloshie, sloshie," I sang in a weak voice, swirling my cup until the amber liquid sloshed over the side. I laughed and looked around to see if anyone was watching. "D'you see that?"

No one answered me.

Frowning, I crawled over to the bed and peered up. Jinx was shirtless and sprawled out, sleeping with his mouth open. He hugged an empty bottle to his chest and wrapped a protective arm around his stomach. "Mmhmm."

I snickered and looked over to where Maverick and Gabby were lying. The TV flashed silver hues over their coupled form, and I felt my stomach twist with nausea. "Oh gag."

"Wooow," Gabby slurred, pulling back from the hickey she'd been branding on his neck. "I dunno what...I...came over me." She patted her hair down and giggled.

Maverick sat up with a wicked smirk. "You're a bad girl. Maybe we should send you to your room."

_"¡Oh si, niño! ¡Soy una chica muy mala!"_ Gabby started laughing hysterically, and I had trouble focusing.

_Processing, processing...nope. Nothing._

He stood on shaky legs, gathering her up alongside him. "Well, I think I'll take this one to her room...where she sleeps."

"Where _you_ sleep," she purred, clinging to him for support.

"Gag," I repeated, still on my hands and knees. It wasn't like I was going to stop them. They were consenting adults, and he clearly wasn't taking advantage. It wasn't my problem.

They stumbled out the door, laughing and calling, "Bye, bye, Reeeena Ballerina!"

I shook my head at the nickname and used the desk to pull myself up. There was no way I was going to crash with Jinx the dancer. I'd seen enough of his moves already.

I snatched my coat off the bed and took a few steps toward the door. The room swayed back and forth, rocking like a boat lost at sea. Ah, hell. Was I...? _Nah, I don't get drunk._ I jerked the door open and practically fell out into the hallway, forcing my sore arms into the sleeves of my coat.

_Oops._ That wasn't good.

I braced myself on the wall and crept past the opening to the lobby, holding my breath. I'd been in this dorm before and knew there was a side exit by the staircase. If I could make it there, I'd be home free. It didn't matter if I signed out or not. Nobody would check.

As I crept and skulked in the shadows, I couldn't help but giggle. It all felt so silly, like I was playing a game with the security officer—one he didn't even know we were playing. Yet. I laughed and clamped a hand over my mouth, looking around. "Shh..."

There they were—the double doors of freedom.

I darted forward, tripped over my own feet, and caught myself on the chilled glass. "Ah." I pushed back on the bar, and the door swung open. With a disoriented blur, I flew out into the night.

"Oomph!" Stones and shards of ice cut into my palms as the door came back and hit me in the hip. "Ugh," I groaned, feeling the sting in my wrists as I crawled out of the way. If any door was left open for longer than ten seconds, it gave a high-pitched beep to warn the front attendant. Well, too bad. They'd never take me alive.

Somehow, I managed to cling to the building and find my footing. Had Maverick and Gabby even made it back to our dorm? I looked across the quad, to Reid Hall looming in the distance, and felt my heart sink. _It must be nice to have someone catch you when you fall._

Suddenly, I didn't feel like singing and giggling anymore. I wanted to go back to my room and curl up with the comforter over my face until I felt whole again. Of course, I couldn't. Because of _them_.

I took a few unstable steps and nearly face-planted, flailing my arms around. The path was a lethal mix of ice, packed snow, and the faintest sprinkling of salt. How on earth was I supposed to get back?

There weren't many people outside. The stragglers had their heads tucked down, hurrying to their destinations. _Well, hell._ At least no one would see me fall. I took a few more steps and felt a sickening loss of control.

As if on cue, lazy snowflakes began to descend from the heavens. I looked up and groaned as glittering white essence began to pour from dense clouds, like someone had shaken a snow globe. The snowflakes danced in front of the streetlights, mocking me with their jovial flurry.

"Wooonderful." I reached out and grabbed hold of a light post for support. When my boots slid, I clung to the thing like a freakin' koala bear. I didn't care who saw me. I wasn't going to fall again.

My cheeks tingled in the night air, and I sniffled to keep my nose from running. This sucked. Everything sucked. Why did Gabby have someone to keep her safe and warm right now? I was the one who introduced them. Not fair.

I clenched my fist, willing the notion away. Well, screw them. I didn't need someone to lean on. Hell, I'd be damned if I ever needed anyone for anything, ever again. Nobody was going to—

"Rena?"

I looked up as a figure emerged from the white void of snowfall. The snow dusted his broad shoulders as he took long, measured strides toward me, his black coat flapping in the wind. As he neared, I made out his startled features.

"Wallace?"

His gaze burned with indiscernible emotion. "Are you hugging the lamp post?"

Irrational tears spilled down my cheeks at his words, like a dam had broken inside me. "Wallace, save me. I can't mooove!"

#  CHAPTER 9

For a moment, Wallace looked stunned—the epitome of male panic over a woman's tears—but it didn't last long. The shock faded into scrutiny, and he crossed his arms over his chest.

"What do you mean, you can't move?" His tone was icier than the blustery, nighttime air. "Is someone forcing you to stay here?"

"N-No."

His brows stitched together. "Then you should go inside."

"I caaan't," I wailed, hiding behind the post. _Damn it._ Why was everything turning out so wrong? "Gabby and Maverick are getting their stupid sex all over my room, and Aiden's at the play." I sniffled. "I'm homeless, Wallace. Nobody wants me."

He looked like he didn't know whether to be amused or appalled. "That bad, huh?"

His left eye was still a little swollen, but not nearly as bad as it had been Sunday night. Geez, it felt like an eternity had passed since then.

"Rena." He knelt down, eyeing me as he put both knees in the slush. To anyone passing by, it probably looked like he was trying to meet a timid child at eye level, coaxing her to go inside. "Have you been drinking?" His voice was cautiously low, like he was afraid of spooking me again.

"I..."

_Ugh._ Why was he giving me that look? I hadn't done anything wrong.

"Wallace," I said seriously, nodding toward the ground. "You've got wet on your pants."

He blew out a sigh that vanished as a crystalline cloud between us. "I know."

I peered around the light post, watching for any sudden movements. It was a little unnerving to have him so close, knowing what he was capable of. Actually, now that I thought about it, I didn't really know what he was capable of. "Did you kill your roommate?"

He jerked his chin back in surprise. "What?"

"Your rooooommate," I slurred, emboldened by the powerful accusation. "How did you get rid of him?"

He looked up, mouth agape and eyes incredulous. "You're really asking me that? Do I scare you that badly?"

"Ye—no...no."

"I didn't kill my roommate, Rena. He asked to be reassigned to Foster."

"Oh." The wind bit at my ears, and they started to numb.

"I can't believe that you..." he trailed off, running a hand back through his hair. "Forget it. Do you have someplace to go?"

His words cut through my chest as I stood there, trying to figure out how to take back what I'd said. "No."

With a resigned sigh, he nodded to himself and stood up, dusting off his coat and pants.

"Come on, then." He tilted his head toward our building. "I guess you'll have to hang out at my place until your roommate's friend is gone."

"Don't be nice," I groaned, pressing my forehead to the frozen post. "It makes me feel bad."

"Sorry, I guess you'll just have to suffer."

_Was that a joke?_ I leaned around the post again, staring up at him with what I hoped were veiled emotions. "Are you planning something?"

He ignored my question, rubbing his hands together to stay warm. "So, can you walk?"

I huffed and took a few steps back from my anchor. "Of course I can walk."

No sooner than the words left my mouth, I felt my boots glide over the slick surface. I waved my arms around and managed to catch my balance. Okay, that was it. From that moment on, I swore to only buy ugly, man-ish boots with loads and loads of traction.

He heaved another sigh, and I knew I was testing his patience. Without a word, he approached me and slid an arm around my shoulders. "How much did you drink tonight?"

I felt a pout tug my bottom lip. He still thought I was drunk. _Well, we'll see about that._ I straightened my back to rigid posture and did my best to appear sober and in control. "I, sir, was a victim of happenstance." _Happenstance..._

A giggle escaped my chest. Was that a real word?

The quad lurched to the side, and my arms shot out. _Oops._ Maybe it wasn't a real word.

"Never mind. We'll do it this way." Before the words could fully register in my brain, Wallace bent down and scooped my legs out from under me.

"Hey!" I shrieked, throwing my arms around his neck as the scenery pitched and blurred around us. "Put me down. I can walk." My stomach churned. Why did I feel so freakishly weightless in his arms? "Wallace!"

He strode toward the door, staring straight ahead. "I wouldn't exactly call that walking."

"Shut up."

I was too tired to fight him. If he wanted to play caveman, that was fine with me. Hell, maybe he was wearing a loincloth under the trench coat. I pressed my lips together and buried my face against his shoulder, trembling to suppress a burst of laughter.

He kept a firm grip on my body, letting my weight rest on his forearms. "You okay?"

"Mhmm," I lied. To be honest, the close proximity was getting to me. More than once, I'd caught myself leaning into him, lulled into a deeper level of intoxication. That clean, heady scent of his was stripping me of my inhibitions, one by one. I couldn't help it.

By the time we reached the entrance, I was lost in a warm, comfy daze. My breasts were pressed against his chest, and I felt every breath that rose and fell between us. It was the most intimate I'd been with anyone in a year, let alone a man I hardly knew—why wasn't I freaking out?

He shifted me toward him, and I felt my southernmost border clench. "What are you doing?" The rough wool of his collar brushed against my cheek, and I shivered. "I'm serious, Wallace. I can walk now."

"Uh huh." He ignored me, swiping his card through the scanner. The red light blinked green, and I heard a click as the doors unlocked. He jerked the handle and caught the door with his back, taking the brunt of the impact. "Close your eyes."

Nervous about what repercussions might lay ahead, I complied without question. It was one thing to trust the man when I could see everything around us, but blind faith was a whole other story. I clung to his neck like a second skin.

"She's not feeling well," I heard him say. It felt like he held his arm up, probably to show his card.

"You're not tryin' to pull any funny business, are ya, son?" a gruff voice questioned, somewhere off to the left. "You didn't slip her a mickey, did ya?"

If he did, was I to believe my fate rested in the hands of some goon at the front desk? I was never going to drink again. Ever.

Wallace stiffened like he was thrown off by the suggestion. "Of course not."

_Oh, fine. I'll help._ "Ohh..." I groaned, clutching at the material of his sleeve. I didn't trust myself to say anything more than that. I wasn't entirely faking the nausea.

"Does the little lady have an ID?"

A moment ticked by in silence.

"Pocket," I whispered, ducking my head down.

His fingertips barely brushed against my hip as he tugged on the lanyard, freeing the key ring that held my student identification. I heard the keys jingle and prayed he wouldn't gawk at the rape whistle.

It sounded like a few papers were shuffled around before the guard spoke again. "Well, checks out with me. Go ahead, and take good care of her."

Wallace swallowed hard. "I will."

And that was all I heard. The next thing I knew, someone was nudging me awake. "Rena..."

I hadn't even realized I'd nodded off. I felt so safe and warm, snuggled up in...

In...

Where was I again? I blinked, and a pair of concerned blue eyes swam into focus. "Wallace?"

"Don't you remember?" His brows met and I realized, for the first time, that he looked a hell of a lot meaner than he really was.

"I, uh..." I blinked and looked around. It took me less than three seconds to realize I had no idea where I was floating. Wait. Floating? We were touching. "My leg hurts."

"Rena."

When I looked up, I realized how close his face was to mine—how his eyes exuded an intensity that made me squirm. "What?"

"I lost you for a minute there."

I flinched and hastily searched my mind. What night was it? Saturday? Okay, I'd gone somewhere with Gabby. I squinted, trying to muster a clear image. Oh. We'd gone to see Maverick.

Just like that, the rest of the night's events sped past, locked on fast forward. The drinking, the singing, the abandonment, the wandering, the falling, the crying...

"Rena."

I didn't know what to say. He probably thought I was going to pass out again. Actually, that wasn't a bad idea. Maybe I could roll my eyes back and go limp or something. I wouldn't have to deal with this.

"I'm going to put you down now, okay?" His gaze bored into mine, trying to force the understanding. "Do you think you can stand?"

I nodded, hoping to avoid another embarrassing outburst.

He set me down with surprising gentleness, averting his eyes as I slipped my hands from around his neck.

My fingertips trailed through the beads of moisture that clung to his lapel, and reluctantly, I let my hands fall to my sides. "Thanks."

"Don't worry about it." He let out a slow breath as he straightened, shrugged out of his damp coat, and kicked his boots off at the door. "You're soaked, aren't you?"

I hadn't really noticed it until then, but he was right. I guess I'd assumed the reason I couldn't feel my butt was because it was frozen. My memory was a little sketchy, but I distinctly remembered crawling through a slushy mix of snow and ice. No wonder I was shivering. "Yeah. I think I fell."

"Well, you probably shouldn't stay in those clothes. I don't want someone else to die in my room, hypothermic or otherwise."

I nearly got whiplash, jerking my head back to stare at him. He was—

Kidding. My knees nearly buckled as he grinned and crossed the room to search the contents of his dresser. "Relax."

"Easy for you to say," I muttered, taking the opportunity to get a good look at my surroundings.

Just as I'd heard, he lived alone. There was only one bed, with a navy blue comforter strewn halfway off the mattress and a pillow thrown beside it. His phone was off the hook, dangling over the edge of his desk, and his trash bin was lying on its side. Had someone tossed the place or was he really that messy?

"I know they won't fit, but they're all I've got." He turned around, looking uncharacteristically sheepish as he held up a bundle of clothing. "You can take a shower, if you want. It's not dirty or anything. I cleaned it yesterday."

I froze like a deer in headlights.

"O-Oh." He was trying to be nice. _Say something. Say something now._ "You clean the shower?" _Not that._

He nodded, leaning back against the dresser. "Yeah, I think we're on a rotation now. We haven't really discussed it, so I just clean on the weekends."

I frowned and bent to unzip my boots, setting them next to his. "Aiden and Josh don't talk to you much, do they?"

"No."

Something clenched in my chest. "I, uh, wouldn't take it personally, you know." I carefully placed one foot in front of the other, moving across the room—one stumble and he'd probably take me to the shower himself.

The image presented itself in my mind, and I sucked in a deep breath, praying my face hadn't turned beet red. "T-They're just shy."

"You think?"

Looking up at him, I couldn't bring myself to sugarcoat the answer. "No." The word echoed around the empty room as I took the clothes from him. "But they're pussies, so you shouldn't care what they think."

His lips pulled back. "Why do you say that?"

I shrugged, backing toward the bathroom door. "Because they're afraid."

"And you're not?"

I stopped and thought about it, feeling a ghost of a smile trace my lips.

"I'm here, aren't I?" I took another step back, ready to part on those cool-sounding words, and ran smack into the door. Butterflies flitted about my stomach as I groped for the handle. "I-I'll be back," I muttered, slipping into the other room before he could reply.

_Slick._

I hurried through the shower, lingering just long enough to let the hot water permeate my dulled senses. There wasn't time to relax. At any moment, Wallace could've burst through that door, ripped the shower curtain open, and taken me in all of my soaking glory. No one would've ever known. I replayed the scenario several times in my mind, justifying it as a valid concern, but each time it became more and more like fantasy. I blamed the alcohol.

Even after I toweled off, the masculine scent of his body wash continued to follow me like a crisp, aromatic cloud; it was all I could do to keep from moaning each time I breathed it in. I blamed the alcohol for that, too—even though it'd mostly worn off. The only thing left was fatigue, and that wasn't something I could wash away.

I took a deep breath and cast one last glance in the mirror. The white t-shirt he'd leant me hung shapelessly from my shoulders, but I didn't mind. My bra hadn't had a chance to dry yet, and I wasn't about to hold a wet t-shirt contest in the middle of January. Or at all.

His sweatpants hung low on my hips and the bottoms were rolled in thick, overdone cuffs. I pulled a pair of socks up around my ankles and shook my head. _Of all the times to look like a bum..._

My hair was wet, and all of my makeup had washed off. It shouldn't have bothered me, but it did. Wallace was a reasonably attractive guy—and by reasonably attractive, I mean gorgeous in the most infuriating way possible. It was driving me crazy.

_Crazy_ ...

The word echoed in my mind as I gathered everything up. Maybe this was my opportunity to settle the madman rumors once and for all. Being partially responsible, wasn't it my duty to set things straight? It was obvious they bothered him.

I'd just have to gauge his mood before I broached the subject. If he gave any sign of losing his cool, I'd run out. It wasn't like I didn't live in the same building. If push came to shove, I'd sprint downstairs and kick the naked people out of my room.

I shook my head and pushed the door open.

Wallace was lying on his bed, reading something on his phone with one knee bent and the other draped over the side. He'd changed into clean clothes while I was gone. Black athletic pants stretched the long length of his legs, and he'd donned a white t-shirt identical to my own. I suspected the coverage was for my benefit.

"Feel better?"

I nodded, fighting a grin at the casualness he'd adopted, now that we were behind closed doors. "Thanks." I shifted the damp bundle in my arms. "So, where should I put these? I don't want to get anything wet."

He tossed the phone aside and stood up. "You can just dump it all in the hamper. I'll throw your clothes in with mine this week."

"Oh, um..." I blanched at the thought of him doing my laundry. Really, it was a stupid thing to worry about. It wasn't like I had delicates in there. _Think, think._ "Why don't you give me a call when you're going to do laundry?" I dropped the towel and clothes into the hamper. "I'll meet you down there, and we can just trade then."

"Call you?"

"I-If you want to," I stammered. "If you don't want to, that's okay. I'll just..." I scanned the room and spotted a stack of bright green Post-It notes on his desk. Okay, enough with the docile act. I threw my coat on the floor, grabbed a pen, and jotted ten digits on the top square. "That's my number, if you need it."

He blinked for a moment, before snapping out of it. "Uh, yeah. That's cool."

"Cool," I echoed, toying with the wet strands of hair that brushed my shoulders.

"Want something to drink?" he asked.

I groaned, pressing my palms to my forehead.

"What?"

"Nothing. Sorry." I shook my head. "That was the last thing I heard before I found myself on the floor, singing to my cup."

He bent at the refrigerator and produced a clear, plastic bottle. "Water it is, then." With quick strides, he crossed the room and twisted the cap. "Singing to your cup, huh?"

"Thanks." I felt myself blush again as I took the dented bottle. "Yeah."

"You're a tough one to figure out," he mused, tilting his chin.

"Is that a bad thing?" I took a long swig of water, thankful that I'd peed twice before coming out of the bathroom.

"Not if you ask me." He walked over and sat on the floor with his back to the bed frame. "You can sit wherever. I know this is weird."

"It's not weird," I said in a rush, hesitating to add, "Okay, maybe just a little."

Giving the room another once-over, I opted to join him on the floor with my back against the wall. The trash bin had been righted, and the phone was back on its cradle.

"You cleaned up." I'd intended it as a question, but it came out as a bland statement—a statement followed by a yawn.

He rubbed the back of his neck and gave an awkward grin. "You noticed, huh?"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to insinuate it was messy or anything." I would've been more adamant about the apology, had I not been too tired to care. The room was comfortable, and my Spidey senses weren't tingling with danger. I just wanted to relax.

"No, I should've cleaned up before I left." He looked at the floor and scrubbed a hand down his face. "Look, I'm sorry about last night."

"Huh?" _Where did that come from?_

"You just caught me at a bad time," he continued, lifting his gaze to mine. "I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

I pulled on the hem of my t-shirt. This was it. My golden opportunity. "Is it always...?" My voice rang out in the silent room, and I lowered it between us. "Is it always bad around _that_ _time?_ "

_Please, please tell me he has recollection of these episodes._ I hadn't even considered the alternative. What if he had dissociative identities or something?

His face was grim. "You noticed that, huh?" He blew out a sigh and looked up at the ceiling. "Look, I know you guys think I'm crazy and all, but it's not like that."

I bristled, nerves on edge, ready to make a dash for the door. "We don't think you're—"

He looked me straight in the eyes, and I found myself unable to continue. The poor guy seemed so resigned to the notion. How could he live like that? The guilt crept back in, and I found myself hugging my knees. "Sorry."

"Rena, I'm not crazy," he said. "I know you guys hear all kinds of things during my clusters."

"Your what?"

"Cluster headaches." He pointed to his left eye, as if that suddenly explained things.

I had no idea what he was talking about. "Like migraines?"

His features darkened, and I knew I'd asked the wrong thing. "No. Not like _migraines_."

"Oh."

"It's around the same time every night," he began, leaning back on the bed. "It's like someone takes a hot poker, straight out of the fire, and spears the whole thing through my eye socket."

"That's horrible." I couldn't hide my grimace as I imagined the scenario. "Can you take medicine or something?"

He smiled humorlessly. "I _can,_ not that it makes much difference. Doctors still don't know much about them, so they set me up with oxygen, injections, and a cocktail of pills I can't even pronounce. It's a trial and error deal." He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "Haven't found anything that's really effective yet."

I'd never been much of a nurturer, but at that moment, I felt it start to bloom in my chest. "Wallace, I...we had no idea."

He waved me off. "Don't worry about it. I didn't tell you so you would feel sorry for me." The corners of his mouth lifted. "I told you so everyone would stop freaking out about it."

I gaped at him. "You knew."

"Of course I knew. You think I don't notice that people around here won't make eye contact with me? That they edge around me in the elevator?" He shook his head, a little too blasé about the whole thing. "I'm not stupid."

"I'm so sorry." The guilt felt like a noose, constricting my airways. If I'd recognized him, if I'd known who he was, I would've acted the same way when we met. I would've scorned him like everyone else.

"I told you I didn't sa—"

"And I told you I'm sorry!" Warmth pricked behind my eyes as tears formed and threatened to fall. "The way people treat you...some of that's my fault." I balled my fists and pressed my lips together. "I told stories like everyone else. I-I just...I don't know how to fix it _._ "

He stared at me for a moment without saying anything.

I swallowed and looked away. "So, the clusters are why you're always...?"

"Screaming?" he offered in a dry voice. "Growling? Banging my head on the floor? Drilling myself in the face with anything I can get my hands on? Yeah, pretty much."

"That bad?" My stomach was in knots. It had to affect him way more than he was letting on—it _had_ to—but what could I say? Sympathy felt so patronizing. "That really, really sucks."

"Yeah, well, it happens."

I leaned back against the wall. "I guess." An awkward silence settled between us—one I felt compelled to fill. "I, uh, don't really drink much, you know."

"I could tell."

"No, really." I frowned at the sarcasm. "I can't even tell you the last time I was that tipsy."

He shook his head. "No, I mean, I could _tell._ You're little anyway. It probably doesn't take much."

_Ruffle my feathers, why don't you._ I huffed. "Well, I'm not _that_ much of a lightweight."

"I bet."

I sat up a little straighter. "Hey, what happened to the mild-mannered guy I met a week ago?"

His lips curved into slow grin. "Maybe you're getting to know him."

#  CHAPTER 10

I woke up to blue numbers glowing in the distance. Four o'clock. "Mmmph..." I rolled over and clutched at the comforter, burying my face in my pillow. It smelled so good; I could've stayed there forever.

Wait.

I cracked one eye open. This wasn't my bed. I raised my head and squinted around. This wasn't my room, either.

The night's details slipped back into place as I sat up. Wallace and I had talked until, well, I couldn't remember. I must've nodded off in the middle. Again.

I guessed that meant he carried me to bed. The warmth of the thick comforter increased a notch as I pictured it. For the briefest of moments, I imagined how the bed would have felt with him beside me. The mattress would've dipped down on his side, letting gravity ease us together. Oh God. What if he—

Before I could freak out about his presence, or lack thereof, I caught a glimpse of his darkened form across the room. He was awkwardly reclined in the desk chair with his legs propped up on the desk. Wallace was a big guy, and the idea of him trying to sleep like that was almost laughable. _Almost._

Why did he give me the bed? He could've woke me up and sent me on my way. Hell, he could've let me sleep where I'd fallen on the floor. My heart constricted with something foreign and unwelcome. I didn't even know guys like that existed anymore.

I had to wake him. It was time he claimed his rightful place on the bed. If Maverick hadn't evacuated my room yet, I'd just make him leave by force. I had a score to settle with those two deserters, anyway.

Or maybe that was the sleepiness talking.

My body fell back of its own accord, collapsing onto the mattress. I turned my head to look at Wallace as darkness threatened to overtake my consciousness. If I didn't get up, he was going to be so sore in the...

I blinked.

Sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting a long rectangle on the floor. Dust particles danced in the morning light, mimicking last night's snow. I must've fallen asleep again.

The digital clock read eight-fifty in the morning. I groaned and sat up, patting my hair down. Had I really spent the entire night? With Wallace?

Before I could ponder it any further, the bathroom door opened. Wallace stepped out with an entourage of steam, smiling when our eyes met. He looked nothing short of debonair in a fitted, button-up shirt and a black silk tie. "How're you feeling?"

My mouth tasted like cotton, and I had a headache pounding the back of my skull. "C-Ca..." I cleared my throat and forced a smile. "Can't complain. How about you? And why are you so dressed up?"

It was the kind of sight a girl wouldn't mind waking up to everyday. Maybe with a pot of coffee brewing in the background, filling the air with a heavy, roasted aroma. I shook my head. _No, no. None of that._

He stopped at the dresser, pulling on a thick-banded watch. "It's Sunday."

"Yes, yes, it is." I raised my eyebrows. "Is it dress-up Sunday?"

He laughed under his breath and turned to face me. "Rena, I'm going to church."

I was pretty sure my jaw came unhinged. "Oh, right. Church. Because...we have a church here." I shifted my gaze guiltily. In the past two and a half years, I hadn't once visited the chapel near campus. It wasn't that I didn't believe. I mean, I'd been churched as a kid. I knew Jesus. I just didn't visit Him at His house anymore.

I pulled the covers back and swung my legs over the side. "I'm, uh, sorry for passing out on you last night. You really, _really_ didn't have to sleep in that chair. It must've killed your back." I paused and quickly added, "And thanks—you know—for everything."

"I'll live, and you're welcome." He grabbed his keys off the desk and shoved them into one of his pockets.

"Ah, almost forgot," he said as he tossed my lanyard across the room. "Wouldn't want you locked out of the love shack."

I wrinkled my nose in disgust, barely catching the green and black cord. "Don't call it that. That's creepy."

He made a face and swept past me, stepping into his boots. "Call it like I see it."

"Uh huh." I rolled my eyes and followed suit. It wasn't like I wanted to stick around while he was out getting his praise and worship on. I wrapped the baggy, cuffed pant legs around my shins and zipped my boots up. Talk about classy.

"You ever go to Campus Fellowship?" He threw his trench coat on, and the resultant ensemble looked like something straight out of GQ.

"Uh..." I grabbed my purple pea coat off the floor and tossed it over my arm. "Can't say that I do."

He opened the door, letting me step out into the common room ahead of him. "Maybe you should sometime."

I was still having trouble making sense of the whole church conversation. How could a guy look like sin and chase after redemption? It didn't add up.

Shaking my head, I shoved the suite door open and held it back for him to catch. "Yeah, maybe I should." _If I ever find a flame-retardant dress._

We walked to the elevator in silence, neither one of us truly knowing what to say after that. At least, I didn't. When the doors chimed open, I sucked in a deep breath.

And out stepped Aiden.

"Rena?"

_Crap._ "Hey!" I took a step back and inadvertently put Wallace between us. Whether he realized it or not, he tilted his body to shield me—like his scrawny, redheaded suitemate posed some kind of threat to us. _Well, this is bound to look suspicious._ I peeked out from behind his arm.

"What's going on?" Aiden asked, as he adjusted the thick strap of the weekend bag on his shoulder, teetering at the weight. "Why are you here?"

Great questions. Too bad I didn't have the answers. If I told the truth, he'd freak out and make a scene. If I lied, I'd hurt Wallace's feelings and throw his generosity back in his face. Maybe I could evade.

I took a deep breath and smoothed my hair back.

"What do you mean? I was hanging out with my friend here." I laughed and slapped Wallace on the back, wincing when it stung my hand.

"Oh." Aiden looked skeptical, and from his expression, I could tell that I'd have to explain the whole thing later, anyway. "Well, I guess I'll see you guys around." He pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose and hobbled around the corner, carting his bag along.

_How much did he pack for one weekend?_

"Coming?"

I turned to find Wallace already in the elevator, holding the doors open. "Oh, sorry." I slipped in beside him. "Thanks."

He pressed the buttons for the fourth floor and the lobby, and then leaned back against the wall. "Why do you worry so much about what he thinks?"

The confined space made him even more imposing. He wasn't demanding an answer, but at that moment, it sure felt like he was. Thankfully, time was on my side. I just had to stall for a few seconds. "He thinks he's being protective."

"Oh, right," he said blandly. "I forgot. You're with the crazy guy."

The bell sounded, announcing our arrival on the fourth floor. As soon as the mirrored doors separated to grant my passage, I darted out into the hallway. "Watch your mouth," I snapped, meeting his eyes with a grin. "That crazy guy is my friend."

His lips twisted back. "Yeah? Better be careful."

I gave a taunting little finger-wave as the doors began to close, cutting us off from each other. "Always am."

And with that, I practically flew down the hall. Scrunchie or no scrunchie, I was going back to my room. I unlocked the door and rushed inside, caught up in my own momentum.

"What on earth are you wearing?" Gabby lounged across her bed, having already sent her partner on his merry way. That would've been nice to know a few hours ago.

I threw my coat over the back of my chair and reached inside to grab my phone.

"Funny." I scanned the screen. "I don't see any missed calls from you. Not even a text." I set the phone down on my desk, giving her a pointed stare.

"Aww, you're not going to be like that, are you?" She sat up, protruding her bottom lip. "We were all drinking. It's not like I did it on purpose."

"Uh huh." I unzipped my boots, set them aside, and crawled onto my bed. "What happened to bros before hoes?"

She scrunched her nose. "Only applies to guys, Ree." Her eyes flicked back to my outfit. "So, seriously, what's with the baggy man-clothes? Whose are they?"

I shrugged. "Who says they aren't mine?" Oh, she would suffer through this. She would suffer, and I would enjoy it.

"You're swimming in them! They're not yours. Besides, you didn't even come home last night." She rubbed her head. "At least, I don't think you did."

"If you must know," I said. "I ended up stripping down to my panties and running through Foster last night."

"What?" Her voice cracked, and I flinched at the earsplitting tone.

_Heh._ "I ended up running into this guy on the second floor. Thor."

Her eyes widened. "Thor?"

I nodded, luring her in. "He's studying abroad and barely speaks a word of English." I pulled my lips back into a suggestive smirk. "I saw him and immediately knew that I would have him, right there in the stairwell."

"Omigosh, Ree!" she practically spat. "No, you didn't! Please tell me you didn't. You were saving that, weren't you?" A second ticked by. "Ugh, you did! You did, didn't you?"

"Actually." I leaned back, never tearing my gaze from hers. "I wandered outside and stranded myself in the icy tundra."

"Huh?"

"The quad. Wallace found me and carried me inside." I fingered the stitching on my comforter. "He took me to his room."

Her jaw dropped. "You went back to his lair? What were you thinking? Did he hurt you?"

"He killed me," I replied in a sarcastic tone. "This is my disembodied spirit."

Her eyes turned to slits, and she pursed her lips. "I'm serious."

"So am I."

"Ree!"

I let out a deep breath. "Okay, I'll level with you. Now that I've spent some time with him, I feel kinda bad about everything." I smiled despite myself, remembering how he'd teased me in the elevator. "He's a nice guy."

"Wait, wait. You spent the entire night with Wallace?" The color drained from her face. "You're wearing _his_ clothes?"

My cheeks grew warm. "Well, it sounds weird, when you say it like that."

"Details!" She scrambled off of her bed and lunged for mine, making the mattress bounce us both with impact. "Tell me everything that happened."

_Oh for crying out loud._ "You know me. What do you think happened?" I sat up and hugged a pillow to my chest. "He carried me upstairs and let me take a shower, because I was soaked from wandering around outside." I pinched the thin, white material of his t-shirt, holding it out in front of me. "He let me borrow some clothes, obviously."

"Uh huh." She leaned forward, frantically waving her hands for me to continue. "Then what happened?"

"Gabby, chill. Nothing like you're thinking." I gently pushed back on her shoulders, trying to get a little space. "We sat up talking, and he let me in on his secret."

"You mean how he bruised you?"

I blinked. "Well, no, not that one."

_Why didn't he explain that one?_

"Okay? What was it?"

"He isn't crazy. The reason he's always screaming and banging into things is a medical condition." I tapped my head, smug in my newfound knowledge. "He's got clusters."

She jerked her head back. "What the hell are clusters?"

"That's what I said. Well, almost." I waved it off. "Apparently, they're these wicked headaches that push him to his breaking point every night. That's why he makes so much noise."

It took her a moment to process the information. "So, he's not dangerous?"

I grinned. "Nope."

"Well, shoot." She ran a hand back over her forehead. "Aren't we a bunch of jerks, then?"

"Pretty much."

"So..." Her gaze slid back to mine. "That's all that happened?"

I fluffed the pillow, smacking both sides of the worn cotton. "Of course it is. I mean, I passed out while we were talking. The poor guy carried me to his bed and slept in his desk chair."

"Are you serious?" Her voice raised an octave and decibel at the same time. "He's over a foot taller than you. How the hell did he sleep in a chair?"

Like I knew. "He had his legs up on the desk. It looked really uncomfortable."

"Girl, you snagged a real life, honest to goodness, chivalry knight." She fanned herself, and I didn't even want to know what she was imagining.

"Okay, first off, way to go 180° on the guy." I rolled my eyes. "Second, I did not _snag_ anything. Third, are you lusting after him now or what?" My tone came across a little sharper than I'd intended. The hangover had me on edge.

I peered at Gabby. She drank more than I did. How could she even stand to hear herself talk?

"Um, hello! The hottest guy in the building is suddenly sane? Yeah, I'd hit that." She laughed, and I resisted the urge to punch her. "I mean, unless you've called dibs or something."

"I haven't called anything," I said crossly. "He and I are just friends—go ahead and make another notch on your bedpost."

She gasped, her mouth agape with shock. "Rena Elizabeth Collins!"

"What? The bed isn't even cold from Maverick, and you're already scheming." It was a cheap shot, but I was starting to fume. Wallace deserved a hell of a lot more than a stupid one night stand.

"Why does it concern you?"

"It doesn't," I snapped.

"You're damn right, it doesn't!"

The ensuing silence was painful. I couldn't remember the last time we'd argued so openly. Usually, we'd just play our snarky comments off as jokes, but this time was different.

I didn't like it.

We weren't those unfortunate kids who got stuck together in a random housing assignment; we were the roomies everyone considered biracial twins. Hell, by the end of our first week, we were finishing each other's sentences. Was this _Wallace thing_ worth fighting over?

I took a deep breath, tucking my arms beneath my breasts. "Sorry."

Gabby leaned back against the wall and blew a rogue strand out of her face. "Same."

A moment ticked by before our half-assed apologies sank in. "Well, I guess it's time to break it to Aiden," I muttered, holding my phone up. "He's the crazy one."

Her mouth curled back into full-blown smile. "Ya know, I like that idea."

#  CHAPTER 11

Aiden didn't take the news well. It'd been over half an hour, and he was still struggling to make sense of it all. He sat hunched over my laptop, tapping away at the keys in denial. "Clussster," he sounded the word out slowly, typing it into a search engine. "Headaches."

A myriad of results flashed across the screen, listed in blue underlined links. I chewed my bottom lip, watching as he skipped the Wikipedia articles and self-diagnosis websites. It was better this way. If I wanted to understand Wallace—and sadly, I seemed to be the only one at this point who did—I'd have to understand his condition.

"Hmm..." Aiden squinted at the screen and strummed his fingers, clicking on a support group.

"What is it?" I walked to the other side of the room, a little more anxious than I cared to let on. "Did you find something?"

"Cluster headaches, also known as suicide headaches," he read quietly, "are one of the worst pains known to man."

"What does it say about screaming and stuff?" Gabby cut in, impatient as always.

"Hold on." He looked like he was skimming the page. "It says the attacks can last anywhere from fifteen minutes to over three hours at a time, and they can happen a few times a day. Maybe more."

"And you said Wallace's attack lasts around, what, forty minutes?" I asked before I could stop myself. "Does he have any other attacks during the day?"

It was all I could do to keep from shoving Aiden out of the way to look for myself. Maybe Gabby's impatience was contagious. In fact, the only thing stopping me was the assumption they'd jump to. My interest would become a _thing._ Once those two got a notion stuck in their heads, they tended to go overboard with the torment. Most subjects I could handle, but dating was another story. A story with a past I'd rather not get into.

"He usually quiets down a little after nine o'clock. I don't know of any other times. That's all we hear." Aiden scrolled down through some other information. "Ah, here we go. Posts from sufferers and caretakers."

Gabby gestured a fill-in-the-blank at his back. "And?"

"And it sounds like everyone tends to Hulk-out during these things, not that I can blame them." He winced, sparing us the details.

"Well, there you have it." I crossed my arms and fixed them both with a look. "No more crazy business."

"That's fine." He scooted his chair back and stood up. "But I'm still not clear on when you two became so close."

For the love of all that was right in the world, why did it matter to either one of them? "What's there to get? We met by accident and happen to get along. End of story."

"Except for this." Aiden crossed the room and pulled my sleeve up, revealing the faint marks around my shoulder.

I swatted his hand away. "I just said it was an accident."

"How do you _accidentally_ bruise someone by grabbing them?" He popped his jaw, unable to mask his aggravation.

"I'm fair skinned. Everything marks me."

"Does it?" Gabby grabbed my wrist and squeezed hard before letting go.

What was this? An interrogation? "Okay, seriously, the next person to touch me dies. I'm not even kidding." I glanced down at my wrist, where the red marks from her fingers were already starting to fade. "This proves nothing."

Aiden backed down at my threat, lowering his gaze. "We're just worried about you."

"I get that. I do. Thank you for that." I clasped my hands together, practically pleading. "But you've got to believe me when I say that's all that happened. It was a fluke."

He eyed me for a moment and sighed. "All right."

I turned to Gabby, and she put her hands up in surrender. "If you say so."

"I do say so." I put my hands on my hips. "And that's it."

That wasn't it.

When I showered the next morning, I found bruises along the side of my leg—bruises I had no choice but to ignore, unless I wanted to hear more conspiracy theories. Maybe I had thin blood.

Or maybe not. But dang, those places were sore.

Over the next few days, the bruises faded, and as they did, so did their implications. School was in full gear, and my professors weren't pulling any punches. Apparently, meeting once or twice a week, for fifteen weeks, wasn't enough time to get the gist of an overpriced textbook. My workload doubled.

Thursday night found me seated at my desk, warmed by the unnatural heat of my lamp, and sifting through a mound of assignments. Social work? More like social _paperwork_.

I glanced at the clock. It wasn't even seven yet, and Gabby was already starting to lose her attention span. Her nails tapped against her desk as she waited for something to load on her laptop. After a minute, she started rocking back and forth.

"Problem?" I didn't bother looking up. If I did, we'd get derailed, and the whole night would be lost. All it took was a few shared looks of exasperation for us to indulge in a little distraction. Hell, all I'd done was ask about dinner last night, and we ended up absorbed in some marathon on Bravo.

"I have to look up boring stuff for this paper."

I shot her a sideways glance. "Boring _medical_ stuff?"

She nodded.

"The stuff you've chosen to spend your life studying?"

Again, she nodded.

I closed my eyes for a moment and took a deep breath before I turned to look at her. "Three years in. It's not too late to jump ship."

She scoffed. We'd had this discussion before. In fact, we had this discussion every time she commented on the bland nature of her work. For the life of me, I couldn't figure out why she kept going through the charade.

"I like helping people," she explained.

"Do you?"

"Sort of."

I dropped my head and let out a slow breath. "Gabby, you can't follow a career path just because your parents want you to."

"Why not? They're paying for it, and I will—"

"Uggggh." A familiar heat crept up the back of my neck. The girl was living off an umbilical cord made of money. Didn't she see how easily that could turn into a noose?

Okay, so maybe my resentment had a little to do with the student loans I had piling up. "Sorry," I mumbled. "Reflex."

She sat there, tight-lipped for a moment. "Uh huh."

"Seriously, though. You can't keep this up forever. You'll end up unhappy."

"Not when I'm rolling around in cash."

"Until it's time to pay your insurance, Doctor Hernandez." I poked my tongue out to show my maturity.

"Just you wai—"

My phone lit up and started vibrating against the desk. I grabbed it and read the caller ID

"Aiden?" Gabby guessed, glancing at the clock.

I shook my head. "No clue." Punching the green button, I put the phone to my ear. "Hello?"

"Hey," a low voice answered. "Finally made it down here."

My heart rate spiked. Whoever the man was, he sounded half serial killer, half phone sex operator. I didn't know what to do with either. "Sorry, who is this?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Wallace?"

My eyes grew wide. "Oh! I'm sorry. I just..." Thoughts started fragmenting in my mind, as I struggled to play off my idiocy. "I didn't think..." I shook my head so hard, a few tendrils fell loose of my bun. "I'll be right down."

"All right. I'll catch you in a few."

"Okay. Bye." I pushed the red button a few times to make sure the phone was off. Why, oh why, did I always have to sound so stupid when I talked to him?

Gabby quirked an eyebrow. "Who was it?"

I pocketed the phone and stood up to straighten my shirt. "Wallace. We're going to do laundry."

Before she could say anything, I went for my basket of dirty clothes.

"Wait. What?" She followed me across the room. "He has your number? You're doing laundry together? When did this happen?"

I hefted the basket and balanced it on one hip. My laundry provisions made the thing feel like a freakin' boulder. "I told him to give me a call so I could give him his clothes back."

"Uh huh." A wry smile twisted her lips as I moved toward the door. "Ya know, I have some laundry to do, too."

"Go for it," I said, wishing the opposite. It wasn't that I wanted to be alone with him. I was just leery of letting her anywhere near the guy.

"Good! It's all settled."

_Hooray._

#  CHAPTER 12

"Hey, Wallace!" Gabby called, bouncing into the laundry room. She set her basket down on the bench and rubbed her bicep. "Whew! Heavy stuff."

He was leaning against a line of washers with his load already circling in the window behind him. "Hey..." He flicked a quick glance between us. "Gabriela, was it?"

"Gabby," she purred, flashing him a smile. "Sorry about the other night. You must think I'm awful."

I nearly snorted, dropping my basket to the floor. Her _acting_ was pretty awful. As I rooted around for my quarters, I made an effort not to watch them.

"Don't worry about it," he said.

"Aww, what a nice guy!" If I knew Gabby, she was clutching a hand to her heart right about now.

My eye twitched as I jerked the nearest washer door open and crammed my coins into the slot on the front of the machine. Was she really going to flirt with him in front of me? I twisted a knob, pushed a button, and listened for the sound of spraying water. She had to be kidding me.

The hairs on the back of my neck rose, and I could feel one, or both, of them watching me. I quickly dumped in a cap full of detergent and tossed a color-catching sheet inside. With nothing short of reckless abandon, I began to throw clothes into the basin.

Gabby sidled up beside me, oblivious. "Can I bum some detergent?"

I picked up the bottle and thrust it aside, doing my best to avoid eye contact as I finished loading the washer.

"Thanks." She took it, and I bumped the door shut with my other arm.

"I can't believe people leave these things unattended," Wallace commented.

I looked up, forgetting my vow. Sure enough, several washers and dryers were running with no attendants. "That's a good way to get your clothes strewn everywhere."

"Yeah," he agreed.

Gabby finished loading her washer and returned the bottle to my basket. "Well, it's Thursday. The basement is normally a ghost town at this time of night. They probably figured it'd be okay. I would."

"No doubt in my mind about that one." _Oops._ I'd ventured into the conversation. It was too late to act aloof and read my magazine.

Gabby plopped down on the dingy tile floor without any reservations about its state of cleanliness. For a rich kid, she wasn't all that fussy. "So, what do we want to do to pass the time? Oh, oh, oh! We should play a game."

I shot Wallace an apologetic look as I sat on the bench and pulled my legs up.

She must've taken our silence as consent. "Okay! Let's go around and say one random thing about ourselves. I'll start. Hmmm..." She tapped her chin and looked up at the ceiling. "Okay, I don't like spicy food."

Neither of us said anything.

"And I'm Mexican," she continued with a knowing grin. "Wrap your head around that one. Okay, you go, Ree."

I gave her a blank stare—half for the deliberate abuse of stereotypes and half for starting the stupid game to begin with. "I don't have anything."

"Aww, c'mon! It's fun. What else do you have to do right now?"

I said nothing.

She crossed her arms. "Fine, I'll go for you." She straightened her posture and turned toward Wallace. "Rena got kicked out of ballet for kicking someone."

He raised an eyebrow, and I felt red from the chin up.

"Accidentally," I quickly explained. "I was seven."

She eyed me like the Cheshire cat from _Alice in Wonderland,_ her __ mouth curving into a grin. "Accidentally on purpose."

I felt my jaw drop. "She pulled my tutu down!"

Gabby lifted one shoulder, a little too smug for my liking. "Just sayin'."

Red danced across my vision as I gripped the edge of the bench and fixed her with a not-so-subtle glare. Did she want to dance, too? Because I'd happily take her outside and—

"I could see you as a violent ballerina." Crease lines formed at Wallace's eyes as he grinned, showing a dimple. "I guess I'm lucky you didn't kick me for running into you in the hallway."

"I still might," I muttered under my breath.

He laughed and sat down on the far end of the bench, straddling it. "Duly noted."

Gabby perked up, obviously happy that her game wasn't a total bust. "Wallace's turn!"

"Hmm..." He rubbed at the scruff on his chin.

Was he really going to play along?

"I'm a twin. Does that count?"

I sucked in all of the room's remaining oxygen. "Seriously?"

Gabby pounced. "What? Where's your twin? Does he go here?"

He rubbed his jaw, glancing up at the washer. "Cole? No, he doesn't go here. He lives in Columbus."

She slouched down. "Aww..."

"Well, that's cool," I said. "Do you get to see him very often?"

He paused, blanking his expression. "Not anymore."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

He waved me off. "So, you guys seem pretty close. How long have you been living together?"

"Since freshman year!" Gabby thrust her fist up, like we'd actually accomplished something. "Two and a half years. Can you believe it?"

"I can't," I added dryly, making a face. I'd probably spent half of that time in Aiden's room, avoiding the scrunchie on my doorknob.

She poked her tongue out. "Anyway, Wallace, have you ever kept a roommate or have they always...?"

He shook his head. "I transferred here at the beginning of the year. Before that, I didn't have to worry about it, because I commuted."

"Why'd you transfer?" Gabby asked, not missing a beat.

"I finished my associate degree in accounting," he explained. "I'm doing my bachelor degree up here."

"Accounting?" I tilted my head, imagining this crazy-huge guy, buttoned up in a suit, sitting in a cubicle all day long. It just didn't fit. "I wouldn't have pegged you as the numbers type."

"What would you peg me as, instead?"

_Anything that lists testosterone as a prerequisite._ "I don't know," I lied.

His brow arched in what appeared to be great skepticism, but he didn't call me out on it.

I frowned. "What?"

"Nothing."

Oh no. He couldn't make a face like that and write it off as nothing. "What was the face for?"

"What face?"

"Stop doing that."

A grin tugged at his lips. "Doing what?"

"Acting like you don't believe me."

"Who said I don't believe you?"

I wanted to leap across the bench and choke him. If there was one, inherent ability all males possessed, it was the power to frustrate me. "You made a face."

"What face?"

"Wallace!" I clenched and unclenched my fists, taking a deep whiff of fabric softener. "I will hurt you and make it look like self-defense."

He laughed. It wasn't a snicker or a chuckle this time. The boy let out a deep belly laugh that seemed to resonate in his chest.

I couldn't help but crack a grin.

"She could, too," Gabby added. "You're twice her size. There's no way they'd believe she would be stupid enough to jump you."

How did I forget she was there? "Wait. What do you mean by stupid?" I zeroed in on her, narrowing my eyes. "You don't think I could take him?"

She lifted her lids, giving me a look that clearly displayed her lack of faith. "Uh..."

"You guys suck." I huffed and turned to straddle the bench, reclining until my back hit the wooden board. If I was stuck here for an hour, I was at least going to be comfortable. I rolled my eyes back and tilted my chin, sneaking a glance at Wallace.

He stared back, studying me with an unreadable expression.

I gulped and turned my head to meet Gabby at eye level. "Have any more brilliant ways to kill time?"

"Girl, don't you take that sarcastic tone with me." She clicked her tongue and shook her head. "I'll come up with something even better."

I groaned and closed my eyes, hoping that'd discourage her. Something scooted across the floor, and I heard the sound of pages being fanned.

"Okay, here. I'll read horoscopes. Wallace, when's your birthday?"

"February 27th."

I cracked my eyes open. She was reading my magazine.

"Oo, okay, you're a Pisces," she said.

"Great." He didn't sound too enthused.

"Here we go. 'Deep, fundamental shifts are happening this month, and your best bet is to go with the flow. Don't struggle against the current. You won't regret the journey.'"

"Ooo..." I waved my hands in the air mockingly. "Accepting inevitable change. Spooky."

"Shut up," she demanded, running a finger down the page. "Let's look at yours, Ms. Sagittarius."

"I'm holding my breath."

I heard Wallace chuckle behind me and felt a small pang of triumph.

"Aha! 'A challenge lies ahead for the archer this month. As much as you hate it, you may have to lean on someone. Call upon your reserves of energy and perseverance to make it through.'"

_Talk about a load of crap._ I plastered on a fake smile and stuck out my hand. "Let me read yours."

"Okay!" She handed the magazine over and pulled her legs up to her chest eagerly.

"Let's see, Gemini..." I covered my face with the pages, not bothering to actually read them. "You will meddle in the affairs of others and be punished as a result." Before she could say anything, I pitched the magazine across the room. "Oh my gosh! It was right!"

Gabby's face contorted into something murderous as she hauled herself up and stomped after it.

"Are you guys always like this?" Wallace asked.

"Huh?" I tilted my head back to find his face bent over mine, blue eyes amused. A familiar heat torched my skin as I struggled to form coherent thoughts. "T-That's just how we...roll." _Look away. Look away!_

Something cracked against my knee, and I let out a yelp, averting my gaze.

Gabby stood over me with the rolled up magazine. " _So_ not cool." She shook it a few times for threatening emphasis.

I laughed. Who would have ever thought I'd spend a Thursday night in the basement with these two? Better yet, who would've thought I'd enjoy it?

Fifty-some minutes passed in a leisurely stream of conversation. The only interruption came when Gabby got a call. She finished up and tapped something on the phone's screen. "Okay, gotta jet." She pocketed the device, sprang from the floor, and dropped my magazine on the bench. "Mavey's taking me to The Drag." She wrenched her dryer open and tossed the nearly dried garments into her basket. "You guys want to come with?"

I shook my head. The Drag was a seedy bar on the corner of Lenox St. and Drake Ave. There was no way in hell Wallace would be up for going to a place like that. "He's churchy," I explained, dismissing the invitation.

"Oh, okay." She accepted the excuse easily enough, and I was proud of her for internalizing whatever had gone on inside that warped brain of hers. She bent down to grab her basket. "You up for it?"

"Nah, I think I've sworn off socializing for a while." Socializing, of course, meant drinking—or anything else that made me feel like death warmed over.

She shrugged and sauntered toward the door. "Suit yourself."

"Wait." I cocked my head to the side. "Did you say Mavey, as in Maverick? You're seeing him again?"

It was practically unheard of. Only once before had I seen her encourage any kind of follow-up communication with one of her bed buddies, and that was the D-bag who ended up cheating on her freshman year. She'd acted indifferent, but I knew it really messed with her head.

"Yeah, I guess." She jerked on the door handle. "Is that a problem?"

"No." It wasn't like I wanted to call her out on it. If anything, it was a good sign. Unless..."Hey, make sure you take it back to _his_ room this time."

One of the dryers buzzed as her lips pulled back into a wicked curve.

"I'm serious!" I didn't care if Jinx was in Maverick's room or not. I was _not_ getting kicked out of my room overnight again.

"I hear ya." She laughed, bumping the door back with her rear end. "Catch you guys later. It was nice to see you, Ace!"

The door clicked shut, and another dryer buzzed.

Wallace looked a little confused, hesitating before he moved to get his clothes from the dryer.

"Sorry about that." I got up and pulled my own dryer door open, reveling in the heat that swirled out to greet me. It smelled like fields in bloom, and I inhaled deeply. "She has a thing for giving people nicknames." I glanced around the door. "Sometimes she calls me Ree."

"It's fine." He shook his head and went about his business, not bothering to look at me.

An awkward silence settled between us as I folded my clothes, laid his on the bench, and cleaned out the lint trap. _Gross._ The muted rainbow of fuzz definitely belonged to more people than just me. I shuddered, flinging it into the trashcan.

"So, I'm churchy?" His voice startled me as it echoed around the empty room. "That's my new category?"

I stopped gathering my things to look at him. "What?"

"I guess I should be happy I'm not the crazy guy anymore."

My nerves twitched. I did say that, didn't I? It hadn't even occurred to me that he might've taken offense. "I'm sorry. Did you want to go? I can call her or some—"

"I didn't want to go." He crossed the space between us in two long strides, laying my clothes in a neat pile atop my basket. "I was just wondering what one had to do with the other."

I felt sick to my stomach, realizing how I'd come across. "I just figured, since you're religious, you wouldn't want to go bar hopping with people. I really didn't mean to insinuate anything."

When he didn't reply, I grabbed his clothes from the bench and folded them. "Sorry, uh, here. Thanks for letting me borrow them."

He took them, and his hands brushed mine for the briefest of seconds. "You're welcome."

We stood there for a moment, both hesitating, and I couldn't look away. Sometimes he just stared at me, like he could see into the depths of my soul or something. It was unnerving, but at the same time, stirred some kind of response in me. Time hung in the air around us...

Until the door screeched open and a girl barged in, toting a massive laundry bag.

He cleared his throat and shut both dryer doors before turning his back to me. With quick, fluid movements, he grabbed his basket and set it on the bench. Before I could say anything, he took mine and set it on top of his.

"What are y—"

"C'mon." He hefted them both without so much as an awkward grimace, making the act look effortless as he strode past, eyes locked on the door.

It irked me a little.

"Aww! My boyfriend never carries my laundry." The girl stared at us with googly eyes, her lips tilted in a wistful smile.

"Oh no. He's not my...we're not..." I shook my head and waved her off. "Not my boyfriend, sorry." My face burned as I ducked my head down and trotted past him. With a quick twist of the handle, I opened the door and jerked my chin for him to slip past.

"Thanks."

"You too, Hercules _."_ I followed him into the hall and pushed the call button for the elevator. "You really don't have to do that, you know. I'm fully capable of carrying my own basket."

He leveled me with a heavy gaze. "It's fine."

"Are you mad at me?" _Did I just say that out loud?_

One dark eyebrow lifted. "What?"

"Nothing," I muttered, looking down at my shoes. "You're not just some label, okay?" _Not just some label?_ What was wrong with me tonight? The semi-truck of failure had rounded the corner, and I was caught in its headlights.

_Ding!_

I leapt at the chance to escape the conversation, even though it meant having to hold the doors open. For once, my fear of looking stupid outweighed my fear that the elevator would chomp on my arm. Saving face was more important.

"Don't worry about it." He maneuvered around me to stand in the middle of the small compartment. "It's fine."

I drew in a deep breath and slowly released it, stepping back to press the buttons for the fourth and seventh floors. "I'm just trying to say I'm sorry. I don't know anything about you or your church, and it was stupid of me to assume."

"Do you want to?"

I leaned back against the metal bar, eyeing him. "Want to what?"

"Know." He lifted one shoulder in a shrug, keeping a firm grip on the baskets. "You can come check it out, if you want. Maybe it'll convince you I haven't taken some monk oath."

"Um..." I looked up and watched the floor numbers change. "Sure, I guess that would be cool." Claustrophobic thoughts of a stuffy sanctuary sprang to mind, and I did my best not to shudder. I wanted to spend time with him, but the churches I had been to were so...

"Hey," he spoke up as the doors chimed open on the fourth floor. "You don't have to. I'm just giving you an open invitation." He stepped out into the hallway. "I'd even give you a ride."

I opened and shut my mouth, following after him. "You're going to miss your elevator."

He fixed me with another look—only this time, his eyes softened with the slightest bit of understanding. "Point taken."

"Wait!" I waved my hands out, blocking the doors "No. I mean, sure. What else am I doing Sunday morning? Well, not to say that it's unimportant. I...I will go. Yes." With frazzled nerves, I marched around the corner, toward my suite door. If he'd come off the elevator, he was obviously willing to carry the thing to my room.

A chill shot down my spine. Was he going to come in? Had I left the place dirty? I wrenched the suite door open and bumped it back with my hip. When he caught it, I set to work on the lock, hoping to get in first to make a quick sweep.

"Sounds good." He set the baskets down on the couch and pulled mine off the top. "Want to just meet me in the lobby around quarter 'til nine?"

"That's fine," I said as he loaded the basket into my arms. "Thanks again."

"Don't worry about it." The corners of his lips lifted, and I felt a little lighter. "I guess I'll see you then."

I watched as he grabbed his own basket and shifted it to open the door. "Y-Yeah, okay. See ya." I couldn't help but smile back as he gave me a quick, departing nod and disappeared into the hallway.

He never had any intention of using the neo-chivalry bit to wedge himself into my room. That, alone, could've separated him from half of the male population at Wilcox. Now he was taking me to church? I gave the door a shove and finagled my way inside. The guy definitely kept me on my toes.

And I was starting to like it.

#  CHAPTER 13

By the time Sunday morning rolled around, I'd already talked myself out of a dress. It was just a small chapel outside of campus. Would they really get that bent out of shape over something as stupid as dress code?

_Maybe._

I didn't care, though. After much deliberation, I'd paired my dark, silk blouse with an ash gray skirt, and a pair of black tights. If that wasn't conservative, I didn't know what was. _Now who's rockin' the winter tights, Cafeteria Girl?_ I grinned.

As soon as the elevator arrived on the ground floor, I headed straight for the lobby. For whatever reason, I couldn't stand the thought of Wallace having to wait for me. He'd probably be scorned for dragging in a heathen as it was. I wasn't going to add tardiness to his charges.

"Wow."

I recognized his voice before I spotted him leaning against the wall, one leg bent in a casual stance, looking handsome as ever. I flicked a glance over my shoulder, trying to find the source of his praise. "What?"

"You..." He pushed off the wall and turned his head, carefully avoiding my eyes. "You look good. Not that you don't always...look good. You look great." He forged ahead, pushing the door open. "We should go."

My heart gave a squeeze as I slipped past him. That _was_ a compliment, wasn't it? "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he muttered, shoving his hands down into his pockets as we made for the parking lot. The sun was bright against the snow, and I immediately missed my sunglasses. Thankfully, the one thing I'd gotten right had been my choice of footwear. From the knees down, I was all snug and warm in my gray boots. No heel.

He pulled a set of keys from his pocket and strode ahead to a black, salt-covered Ford F-150. "Sorry, I should've had it warming up." He unlocked the passenger door and held it open, offering me a hand up. "I guess I'm not used to having someone with me."

"I'm sure it'll be fine." I reached up to get a good grip and grasped his hand. The contact, though brief, burned amid the icy temperatures, and I struggled to find the foothold before he hoisted me into the cabin. "Th-Thanks."

He nodded, checking again to make sure I was clear before he shut the door.

I buckled my seatbelt while he walked around the truck. The seat's chill was already starting to seep through my skirt, but it didn't matter. With us being on our way to church, it was probably best to ice downstairs anyway.

He climbed inside. "Ready?"

"Mhmm," I managed, watching as he fastened his own seatbelt.

A low buzz pulsed from his pocket, and he pulled his phone out just enough to see the caller ID. "Ugh."

"What?"

"Nothing," he muttered, cramming it back down in his pocket. "It wasn't anyone important."

The chapel was at least three minutes away and I had, at best, two minutes of small talk prepared. I ran my palms down the front of my skirt as the truck rumbled to life. What else could we possibly talk about?

As if reading my mind, Wallace reached over and twisted a knob on the dash. Familiar music pounded through the speakers, and the tension inside the cabin melted away. _My hero._

We rode without need for conversation and, before I knew it, we were there. Getting out of the truck was a little harder than getting in, but he managed to help me down without incident. Either he was really chivalrous, or he was under the impression that I was helpless. The latter seemed more likely, given our last icy experience.

Not that I blamed him.

I straightened my skirt as we made for the entrance. The scent of fire and brimstone mixed with the crisp, winter air, and I immediately straightened my posture. _I've already renounced excessive drinking, okay?_ I projected the thought like a defensive, anti-guilt shield as we made our way up the sidewalk.

Glancing up at the old, stone chapel, I felt my stomach twist in knots. It was weird going into a service cold, both figuratively and literally. Sure, I'd known Wallace for a couple of weeks now, but that didn't make me comfortable with the arrangement. I was still an outsider.

_Oh well._ It was too late to worry about it now. I'd just have to pull up my big girl panties and act like a grownup. I lifted my chin and took quick, clipped strides toward the stairs that led to the arched entryway. I could do this.

"That excited to get inside?" an amused voice called from directly behind me.

"You know it," I lied, gripping the railing like a lifeline as I made my way to the door.

He chuckled, and I didn't have to see him to know he was shaking his head.

"Good morning!" someone called from the doorway, beckoning us inside. "Chilly one, isn't it?"

_Gah!_ It was Cafeteria Girl. I'd summoned her with my winter tights.

I plastered on my friendliest expression and brushed past her, slipping into the dark foyer. So, _this_ was how he knew her. Or, at least, this could've been where they'd met. It all made sense now.

She was the Mary Poppins incarnate on door duty, stationed to greet everyone who came in for morning services. I turned around. If I figured correctly, I'd be getting a—

"Would you like a bulletin?" Her voice was sweet as candy as she slipped the pamphlet into my waiting hands. "Welcome to Campus Fellowship!"

"Thank—"

"Hey, Wallace!" Her face brightened as she craned her neck to meet his eyes in such close quarters. "How's it going?" She passed him a bulletin without breaking her gaze.

"Pretty good, thanks. How're you, Rach?" He put a hand on my back, urging me forward so he could get out of the doorway. When the door closed, the room dimmed and grew intimate.

_Rach? They're that close?_

"I'm great. Thank you for asking." Her face had to hurt from keeping that peppy expression up all the time. My face hurt, and I'd only been smiling for a minute. "Who's your friend?"

The weight of his hand on my back disappeared. "This is Rena." He edged around me, gesturing between us. "Rena, this is Rachel."

Something about the girl vexed me so. She stood half a head taller than me, with meticulously-combed hair, a flimsy, floral print dress, and a cardigan sweater. In the dead of winter. Oh, and of course, she had worn the tights again.

She nodded, and her hazel eyes were light with mirth. "So great to meet you, Rena! I hope you'll come back and visit us again sometime."

I twisted my lips back and prayed it didn't look as maniacal as it felt. "Maybe."

Wallace rocked on his heels and looked around at the others assembled in the foyer. "We better go find a seat. We'll catch you inside."

"Sure thing." She beamed and peeked out through the glass, readying herself for the next onslaught of parishioners.

_Sure thing, she says._ I took a step back. The foyer was warm and smelled like brewing coffee. Synthetic candlelight flickered overhead, casting a soft glow on the carpet as people milled around, lost in conversation. If I had to guess, I'd say most of them were around my age. They wore everything from sweatshirts and jeans to dresses and ties. Everyone had a different definition of Sunday best, and they were all represented without discrimination.

_I knew I should've gone with jeans._

The sound of a live beat came from around the corner, followed by a guitar riff.

"C'mon." Wallace gestured over his shoulder as he smoothly made his way through the crowd.

I stayed close, afraid of getting separated. On my own turf, I would've had no problem, but here? I had butterflies.

A few people stopped their conversations long enough to nod a greeting as we passed, and I returned them as best I could, but keeping up with Wallace's long strides wasn't exactly easy. I was about to say something, when we turned the corner.

The chapel hadn't seemed this large from the outside. It was like stumbling upon an ancient temple, deep within the recesses of a cave. Pew after pew of rich mahogany stretched before us, tinted in stained-glass shades of blue and violet.

Though the building had to date back at least a hundred years, it had clearly adapted to the modern world. There was a sound booth in back, a couple projectors hung from the rafters, and announcements scrolled across two screens up front. Set up on stage was a band of five guys and two girls, rocking out to some Jesus song and completely lost in the music.

I stood there, gawking, until Wallace came back into view.

"Where do you want to sit?"

I blinked.

"Where do you usually sit? I don't want to take someone's seat." I'd made that mistake before.

His lips twitched. "Last time I checked, there weren't assigned seats."

I scoffed, looking around. There were quite a few people already scattered throughout the sanctuary. I didn't want to sit anywhere prominent. "Doesn't matter to me."

I could've sworn he rolled his eyes as he turned to scan the room.

"All right, let's go with the back." He marched to the right with renewed determination, assuming the most remote spot in the room. "This okay?" He'd half bent, pausing before taking his seat.

"Yeah, it's fine." I sat alongside him, feeling another stirring of nerves. "Sorry, I guess the place threw me off. It's not what I expected."

"What'd you expect?" He shrugged out of his coat and draped it over the back of the pew.

I swallowed. "Uh..." Something about the way he wore those crisp button-ups and ties intimidated the hell out of me. He looked like a man—a grown man—and I didn't know how to act around him. As far as I knew, he was only a year older than me, but sometimes he felt so out of reach.

"I don't know," I answered, laying my coat beside me. As horrible as it was, I hoped it would serve as a deterrent to anyone who might consider the seat beside mine. "It's not as stuffy as most churches I've been in."

"Ah." He nodded as if that made perfect sense. "Yeah, It's definitely on the casual end of the spectrum. The pastor is really cool. He lets a lot of the students run things." He gestured toward the front. "Like praise and worship."

"That's cool," I admitted. "My last church just had one of those creepy, old organs stuffed in the corner. It's probably on some donor list now."

He shook his head, chuckling under his breath. "The way you see things..."

"What?"

"Nothing."

I narrowed my eyes. "What do you mean 'nothing'?"

"Nothing."

"You're doing it on purpose!" I slapped his arm and immediately whipped my head around to make sure no one had seen. "Sorry."

He grinned and leaned in like a conspirator, lowering his voice. "You're going to get in trouuuble..."

"I said I was sorry," I hissed, clutching at my hand.

His laugh was loud and conspicuous, and I found myself joining it. Before I knew it, we were both hunkered down in our seats, trying to contain ourselves over nothing. I held my aching ribs with one hand and covered my mouth with the other. Obviously, the stress had gotten to me. That—or he'd caught me off guard. Again.

Moments like this didn't seem real. Given the way we'd met, the way our friendship had developed, it was almost like we were bound by some invisible cord that kept bringing us together. The notion was ridiculous, and I hated myself for entertaining it, but...

"I'm so sorry, Rena. We need to go."

"What?" I blinked. "We just got here."

"I'll explain in the truck," he told me, gathering our coats as he scanned the room with sudden urgency. "We need to go now."

#  CHAPTER 14

Wallace threw his arm behind my seat and turned to check his blind spot. He'd shaved for church this morning, but a menacing shadow was already starting to edge around his clenched jaw.

Had I missed something? It wasn't time for his headache, and I was fairly certain I hadn't done anything to tick him off this time.

"My brother is in town," he finally gritted out, white-knuckling the wheel as we backed up and headed for the end of the parking lot. "Unexpectedly."

When did he sneak a look at his texts?

"I really hate to do this, and I promise I'll bring you back any time you want, but I need to avoid a potentially unpleasant situation right now."

"With your brother?"

"Yeah, Cole has a way of—"

Something red blurred in front of the windshield at the intersection—too fast to react to, but jarring enough that everything slowed with a jolt of adrenaline. Brakes squealed, the truck shuddered, and something hit me across the chest. _Hard._

My head lolled forward, hair flying before my eyes, as momentum rammed against my restraint. Every breath left in my lungs punched out in one strained gasp as tears stung my eyes. Beyond the glass, the dust settled.

_Crack!_

I followed the sound to find Wallace still gripping the steering wheel with one hand, his other arm extended to hold me back. His eyes had narrowed into slits, his expression contorted into something murderous as he wrenched his door open.

A red Jeep Grand Cherokee idled in front of us, blocking the road at a sharp angle, but miraculously, no contact had been made.

Wallace withdrew his arm, thrust the gear stick in park, and popped his seatbelt. "Are you okay?"

"I-I think so." Or at least, I would be, once I could breathe again and my heart slowed down. "Are you?"

His mouth formed a thin line in profile as he drew in a deep breath, flexing his hand. "Yeah. Will you excuse me for a moment?"

"Sure."

I barely had the word out of my mouth before he was out of the truck. The door slammed behind him, but his muffled voice still boomed throughout the cabin. "You could've killed her!'

Her who? Me her? My brain scrambled to keep up, addled by a rush of feelings one should _not_ experience in a church parking lot.

The man wavered in view behind his Jeep, but he wasn't so far I couldn't make out what was being said. "I'll have you know high speed maneuvering is my forte."

"Cole..."

_Hold the freakin' phone._ Wasn't that his brother's name? I pushed the button to release my seatbelt and scooted over.

Same knit brow, same intense features. These guys weren't identical, but the resemblance was definitely there. _Wow._

_Good genes in that family..._

"—told you this was serious," Cole growled. "I thought it was just me you didn't care about, but apparently Grandma doesn't mean anything to you, either."

Wallace's spine went rigid as the wind whipped the bottom of his coat.

Cole took a step toward Wallace and nearly met him eye to eye. He stood a few inches shorter than his brother—maybe six foot one—but that didn't stop him from trying to stare him down. "I need your help. It's not like you've been answering my calls."

"You know why I don't answer your calls," Wallace retorted, rubbing his forehead. "And you're not going to drag me into another fight by lying, so give it up."

"I'm not lying! They really said they'd kill her."

Sweat dampened my palms against my skirt. Kill who? Their grandmother?

Wallace backed up and shook his head. "That's ridiculous."

Part of me wanted to smack some sense into the guy. Where was the patience he showed when I prejudged him? Where was the gentleness he showed when he took care of me in his room? When faced with his own flesh and blood, he just stood there. Angry, wounded, too stubborn to let go of whatever had transpired between them in the past.

Maybe that was why another part of me—a very small part—had wanted to kiss Wallace then. Both sides of his mouth, between his brows, and every other place those stupid worry lines marred his expression. That part of me had wanted to hold him tight and give him the comfort I knew he couldn't ask for in a building moment like this.

But that part terrified me the most.

"Oh, come on." Cole ran a hand over his militaristic buzz cut. "What do I have to do to prove I'm serious?"

Wallace crossed his arms. "More than this, apparently."

"Then that's what you'll get..." Cole trailed off, his dark gaze sliding from Wallace to me and locking hold. "Who is she to you, anyway?"

My head jerked of its own accord, and I pretended to be interested in something— _anything_ —else. The steering wheel worked. It had a weird shape to it. Actually, scratch that. It had been crushed on one side, cracks branching out from deep, uneven slopes. Was it like that before? It couldn't have happened from the near run-in we just had. There was no impact. Wallace was just... holding it.

"Rena?" Speak of the car-mangler. His voice was close now, right outside the door.

I tore my gaze from the marred plastic to the suspicion hooding his eyes, a ridiculous question on the tip of my tongue. Before I could give voice to the implausibility, however, he pulled the door open. "Sorry about that."

"Oh, no, it's...fine."

Out of the corner of my eye, Cole squinted from me to Wallace and then back again, like he was trying to add something up in his head. I blinked, and he was beside his brother. "Wait a sec. I don't even get an introduction?"

"You get to stay five hundred feet away from her at all times."

"Well, now I'm more intrigued."

"I'm Rena," I interjected, unsure of whether or not I was supposed to offer that information. "Wallace's friend."

He reached out his hand. "Cole Blake. Wallace's bro—ow!"

Wallace had slap-vetoed the gesture with a disapproving scowl. "No touching."

His twin frowned and rubbed the side of his hand. "What is this? Visiting hours at the penitentiary?"

"I think we're done here." Wallace angled around him, into his seat. "I'm taking her home. Give me a call when you spin your next story."

"It's not a story, this time." Cole lowered his voice. "And you _will_ hear me one way or another on this."

Undaunted, Wallace shut the door. "Move your Jeep before I push it out of the way."

• • •

If you didn't count my aching chest or Wallace's sullen mood, we made it back to campus unscathed. Cole had made a show of peeling out of the church parking lot—which I'm sure the congregation appreciated—but he didn't call his brother's bluff.

At least, I hoped that was a bluff.

"I could see my brother pulling a stunt like that, too," I blurted out with an uneasy laugh. "You know, to scare me."

Maybe not the weird, grandmother-in-peril angle, but hey, to each his own.

Wallace squeezed his eyes shut and fell back in his seat. The tension hadn't left his drawn features, but he seemed vulnerable in that moment—a man who had grown weary from carrying his burdens like a yoke across his shoulders.

"I appreciate what you're doing," he muttered, "but you don't have to try and justify his actions for my sake. I know I came across pretty harsh. It's just... there's history there. Cole and I don't see eye to eye, these days."

I wanted to press for more details, but I had a feeling the slightest prodding would end his impromptu share. Instead, I tried to offer what little counsel I could. "I can't pretend to understand your situation, but I do know how cathartic it can be to let go of the past."

"I'm afraid it's not that simple."

"It _can_ be," I insisted. "We make it complicated, but it's a choice like any other—a choice we have to consciously make every day until we learn to accept... what happened."

He didn't have a response to that, and it was a good thing, because I didn't think I could say another word without a swell of emotion straining my voice. Here I was, preaching about leaving things in the past, and my own words had brought tears to my eyes.

Wallace turned to regard me then, a frown tugging at his lips. "You're speaking from experience."

I nodded. Maybe it was the unyielding way he held my gaze, or how he tensed in anticipation, but I felt compelled to keep going.

"I grew up close to my cousin... Arianna." Her name ripped from my throat like a razor blade, reopening the old wound. "We were close in age and best friends."

My heart pounded in my ears. It was a secret locked in the deepest recess of my mind—a place swallowed up by so much darkness no one had dared to disturb it in years. I'd worked through the guilt. I mean, I _thought_ I'd worked through the guilt, but—

No, I couldn't stop, now that I'd started. "Her senior year of high school, after I'd already come up here for freshman year, she was violated."

I shook my head. "No, she was _raped_. Some boy she'd thought was a friend."

His brows furrowed, dark and intense. Had that little prick been in the truck with us, I had no doubt Wallace would've laid hands on him. He'd have to get in line, though.

My fists trembled, balled up against my skirt. "After that, she was numb. No one could touch her. No one could talk to her. And nobody realized what was going on, until it was too late. I didn't even come home, Wallace!"

The tears flowed freely now, spilling warmth down my cheeks. "I had finals, and I thought we'd spend time together over winter break. She just... couldn't carry that weight anymore."

His hand slid over mine on the seat, enveloping me in warmth I didn't know I needed. We sat there in silence as I struggled to compose myself, choking on half-formed sobs. A minute passed, maybe two, before he spoke again. "I'm sorry." He paused, carefully lifting his hand from mine. "I didn't realize."

"No." I wiped at my eyes and licked the taste of salt from my lips. "I should be the one apologizing. I didn't mean to unload on you like th—"

"Rena."

"What?"

He offered me a weak smile. "You were right. What happened between Cole and me isn't worth holding on to, not in that perspective. I'm sorry."

"Oh. Well, I, uh..."

The truck continued to hum, vibrating as it idled. I looked away, scrambling for something to add, when my gaze locked on his steering wheel again. "Hey, Wallace?"

"Hmm?"

I lifted my still-shaking hand and pointed. "What happened there?"

#  CHAPTER 15

"This?" he asked, running his fingers over the marred plastic. "Just... the cold."

"What?"

"I, uh, left the window cracked, and it warped the plastic." He looked up and met my eyes. "I haven't got it fixed yet."

"You left a window cracked in January?"

He hesitated. "Yeah, for...ventilation. You know, when the heat's on full blast."

"Oh." __ I wasn't convinced, but I wasn't going to stick around and push the subject. "Well, we don't want you to overheat again." I reached over and twisted the keys back in the ignition. "There's no need to waste gas out here, when we both live in the same building."

"Yeah." He unbuckled his seatbelt and pocketed the keys. "Good call."

I opened my door and stepped down before he could help me. With the bitter wind tousling my hair and the building not forty feet away, I was feeling stronger, better than I had in a while.

"So, are you going to hear him out?" I heard his door slam on the other side, as I walked around the truck.

He picked up my pace without effort, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Who?"

There was a strange sense of intimacy between us as we walked back, side by side. My confession had left me raw, stripped of my darkest emotions, and he'd hefted the burden without batting an eye—as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Maybe I could do the same for him.

"Cole," I began, clearing my throat. "You said..."

He stiffened, and his breath lingered in the frosty air. "Oh. Right. Maybe."

"Good."

"Mhmm." He swiped his card at the entrance and held the door open.

"If you need a mediator, let me know." I slipped past him and held up my ID for the attendant. "I've taken two classes, so I'm practically an exper—"

"No!" The word echoed around the room, laced with sudden authority. I didn't even get to finish my joke.

The security attendant flinched but didn't say anything as Wallace showed his identification.

"Sorry." Wallace lowered his gaze. "I just don't think that'd be a good idea."

"Hey, it was just a suggestion." I wasn't going to mention that I'd nearly wet myself.

We made our way to the elevators and replaced a group who'd just disembarked at the ground floor. "Okay, important question," I said, pressing both buttons before I attempted to resurrect the conversation, "A fried goods peddler appears. You can—"

He chuckled, and the doors chimed open on the fourth floor. "A fried goods peddler?"

"Or vender. It's a food truck. That part's not important. You can either have tater tots or fries. Which do you choose?"

Wallace angled a shoulder in front of the door. "What kind of fries are we talkin' about?"

"Plain."

"Then, tots. What kind of question is that?"

I gave a little shrug, trying to feign nonchalance as I stepped out into the fluorescent lighting. "Just curious."

He grinned and held my gaze until the doors started to close. "Church and tots next week?"

"Deal."

I practically skipped back to the suite. There were a lot of things I didn't know about Wallace, but one thing was for certain—I liked spending time with him and figuring them out.

"Look at you, all done up!" a high-pitched voice squawked.

I clutched my chest. "Cass! You scared the crap out of me. What're you doing?"

Cass lived in the room next door, along with her half-baked roommate, Whitney. It was pretty rare to see either one of them, other than the occasional bathroom encounter. They're both on-the-go types, and that's fine by me. I'm not a huge fan of sharing.

She put her shoe up on the sofa cushion and bent to tie the laces. " _I'm_ going out for a jog. What are you doing?"

Well, that made sense. She was wearing one of those cold weather tunics, and her dark hair was pushed back by a headband. I was pretty sure it was the first time I'd seen her without hair extensions, since move-in weekend last August. "I just came from church."

Her lips twitched, half caught in a snicker. "No, really, where'd you go?"

The door to my room opened, and Gabby poked her head out. Her hair was sticking everywhere and sleep still weighted her lids. "It's too early to hear voices out here," she chided with a grin. "What's going on?"

"Gabby." Cass turned, straightening. "Where did Rena go all dressed up this morning?"

"She went to church with Wallace Blake."

"The crazy guy?"

My blood instantly spiked ten degrees. "He is not—"

"Please don't get her started." Gabby reached out and grabbed my arm, pulling me inside. "They're BFFs now, and it makes her all pissy."

"He's not crazy," I stressed, giving them both _the look_. "It was just a misunderstanding."

"Uh huh." Cass stretched in place, giving me a look right back. "Well, that's good to know. I'm out. I'll catch you girls later."

"See ya," Gabby called, shutting the door on the conversation.

"She doesn't believe me," I said flatly, staring at the door.

"Give her time."

"Whatever." I spun to face the room and shrieked when I caught sight of our two _very_ _occupied_ beds. "What are they doing here?"

Maverick clicked his tongue in disapproval, hugging a pillow to his chest. "Didn't you just come from church?"

"Shut up." I shifted my gaze to the other side of the room where Aiden was wrapped up in my bedspread, watching TV. "What's going on?"

Aiden shrugged, gesturing to the half empty box of doughnuts at the foot of the bed. "Brunch."

"Brunch," I echoed and shook my head, looking heavenward for patience.

"So, how was it?" he asked.

"Not bad, actually." At least, what I saw of it. I unzipped my boots, kicked them off, and crawled into bed beside him. "Kind of a low-key, casual thing."

Gabby was close behind and had to perform some kind of acrobatic maneuver to snuggle in between us. It was safe to assume the mattress had reached capacity. "Mavey, get over here."

"Don't even think about it," I warned, burrowing down into the warmth of the comforter. My body still held a chill from outside, but I'd sooner freeze than share body heat with one more person. "Gabby, why don't you just go over there?"

She turned to me, lips tilted with mischief. "What, and miss all the fun? Huh uh."

"Besides," Maverick added, making no effort to get up, "put us in the same bed, and we'll forget we have an audience."

Gabby smirked, nodding her head as if to say _damn right_. "So, what happened?"

_Gag._ I inched away from her and wrapped my arms around my stomach. "We went to church."

"Girl, don't give me that generic summary to work with. What happened? What'd he say? What'd he do? What's he drive? Did he have a spaz headache?"

Speaking of headaches, she was about to give me one. I blew out a sigh. If I didn't answer, it'd only get worse. "He drives a big black truck with a cracked steering wheel...something about leaving the window open. We went to church, talked a little, and came back here. The end. What's on TV?"

"What'd you talk ab—?"

"How did his window crack the steering wheel?" Aiden asked at the same time.

I sank down into the mattress, choosing to answer the easier of the two. "The cold air."

Aiden crumpled his brow. "How does cold air crack a steering wheel?"

"Do I look like Bill Nye the Science Guy? How would I know?" I huffed and sat up, tugging at the sleeves of my coat. Okay, so I was still a little frustrated about that one, myself.

"Anyway," Gabby cut in, louder than before. "What'd you talk about?"

"You know." I pulled the coat off and threw it at my desk chair. "Church, siblings...things like that."

I had to be careful with my words. The last thing I needed was an interrogation on something I didn't fully understand myself.

She perked up. "Ooo, that's right. Your boy's got a twin, doesn't he?"

"He's not _my_ anything," I insisted, fighting a blush.

"Uh huh." She glanced between the two guys. "Did I tell you that? Wallace has a twin in Columbus. We...er, _she_ could have twins."

"Oh, for the love of..." I reached across the bed and jerked the pillow out from behind Aiden, brandishing it like a weapon. "I told you guys I don't like him!"

Aiden raised an eyebrow. It was his way of calling bull without confrontation.

"So, does his twin have clusters, too?" Maverick's voice cut in from behind me.

I paused. The thought had never occurred to me. "I have no idea."

"That would suck," Aiden added, shaking his head.

"Yeah." Actually, I didn't know how I felt about it. It was bad enough for Wallace to have a medical condition, without the possibility of his brother sharing it—but a small part of me almost wished he did, just so it'd be fair. Was that wrong?

As we lay there, contemplating the possibility, I couldn't help but feel a little guilty. These two—well, _three_ now—were my backbone away from home, and I'd been keeping them at arm's length. Yes, they liked to pry and tease, but that was normal. Why was I making such a big deal out of it?

I cleared my throat. "I, uh... actually met his brother."

Aiden cocked his head to the side. "I thought he was in Columbus."

"He was. He showed up to tell Wallace something."

"He drove all the way up here to _tell_ him something?"

"I don't think Wallace has been taking his calls," I admitted, propping the pillow behind me.

"Do you think they fight or something?"

Gabby sat straight up. "Oh, that totally means they're fighting. What do you think happened? I bet they fought over a girl. Oh! Or they were conjoined twins, and Wallace got to keep the good organs!"

We both stared at her, and Maverick chuckled.

She jerked her chin back. "What?"

"You cannot be a doctor," I said. "I've lost all faith in the future of medicine."

Aiden was quick to agree. "Same."

Her almost-boyfriend, being the clever man that he was, chose to say nothing.

"Shut up." She pouted, crossing her arms. "I was kidding about that, anyway. There's got to be a real reason."

I made a reaching gesture, grabbing at the doughnuts until Aiden handed me the box. "Well, whatever it is, it's none of our business."

Gabby snatched one and dropped the pouty act. "Well, that's boring."

"Agreed," Maverick chimed in. "Let's have an intervention. We can all write letters like they do on TV. Maybe get a banner or somethi—"

"Are you serious?" Aiden recoiled, incredulity written all over his features. "He'll snap! What if he starts going down the line and punching us?"

Gabby rolled her eyes. "Are you still stuck on that madman business? Stop bein' such a pussy."

"I'm not a p-pansy," Aiden stuttered, tripping over the last word. Vulgar terminology didn't exist in his vocabulary. Whenever he tried to push the envelope, he choked in the cutest way possible.

"I said _pussy_ ," she emphasized.

He went red from the neck up. "I heard you!"

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. "Look, nobody's a pussy, and we're not making this into some big thing." My words sounded distorted, muffled against my palms. "Can we talk about something other than Wallace?"

Seconds ticked by in silence before Gabby piped up again. "Did you guys know Rena got kicked out of ballet for kicking someone?"

#  CHAPTER 16

Campus is always dead on Thursday evenings. The commuters are gone, the partiers are out buying red plastic cups, and the rest of us are left to wander the quad in a slow, academic stupor.

After a three hour lecture on Behavioral Dynamics, I didn't have the energy for anything ambitious. As long as my feet kept moving toward Reid, I'd be happy. I had a ten minute window to drop my books off, run a brush through my hair, and get to the dining hall. Any later than that, and I'd get caught in the dinner rush.

Gabby and Aiden were probably already there. Their stupid classes always let out early. Or at least, Aiden's did. I was pretty sure Gabby just walked out.

A misty gust caught the tattered edge of my notebook and rustled its pages for attention. We were due for another rain, and by the looks of things, it'd be here early.

"I didn't think I'd see you again so soon," a cheery voice called from behind me.

I glanced over my shoulder, not really expecting whoever it was to be addressing me. Unfortunately, Rachel, the tights-wearing bane of my existence, waved and trotted toward me. _There goes my extra time._

"Renée, right?"

I gave her a tightlipped smile. "It's Rena."

"Oh, I was close," she pointed out with a grin, hugging her books to her chest. "You know, it was great to see you at church Sunday. Wallace never brings friends along."

"Really?" _Please._ I knew this trick. She was fishing.

"Yes, I was quite surprised." She kept walking toward the cafeteria, assuming I'd pick up her step. "You two must be close."

"Oh, I don't know about that," I said, trying to feign embarrassment as I trailed behind her. Sure, it was immature, but I didn't want her to think she had the upper hand—not that we were competing.

Her lips thinned as she paused near the doorway. "I guess you're right. I've known him for months now, and he's never mentioned you."

"Maybe you guys aren't all that close, either."

_Wait for it._

"Kidding," I announced in my cheeriest Stepford voice. _But not really._

She giggled and adjusted the books in her arms. "Perhaps you're right."

I couldn't have smiled more if I'd painted it on in clown makeup. The longer we stood there, letting people go in around us, the more it became apparent that she was working up to something. How much longer did she expect me to keep up this charade?

"So, where did you to disappear to before praise and worship?" she asked, failing at nonchalance.

There it was.

"We couldn't wait anymore and decided to make out in the parking lot."

"Y-You..." Rachel blinked, caught off guard.

"Kidding, again!"

"Oh!" Her rich auburn strands glowed like a halo under the fading sunlight, brightening with her expression. "Too funny."

"He had a family thing come up."

"Is everything okay?"

Like I was going to speculate with her. "Mhmm."

"Good." She edged toward the door with a shy reluctance in her step. "Well, I'd better run. I don't want to keep him waiting."

My blood ran cold. Wallace? She was meeting him for dinner? "Yeah, we... wouldn't want that."

Before we could share an awkward, post-farewell trip through the cafeteria line together, my phone rang. _Thank God._ I took a step back, shifted my books, and glanced at the caller ID. _Six-one-four. Isn't that a Columbus area code?_

"Hello?"

"Rena? Cole Blake."

I startled and made weird little movements with my mouth in an effort to speak. "O-Oh, uh... hi."

"Hi yourself." Cole sounded _just like_ Wallace on the phone. The familiarity was disarming. "Do you have a second?"

"Sure?" I was so thrown, it came out sounding more like a question than I'd intended.

"Great." There was a click before his voice echoed, like he'd switched me to speakerphone. "Sorry, I'm driving. Thing is, I'm having a little shindig for Wallace this Friday. Since you're his only friend from college I know of, I wanted to invite you down."

My brows pinched. "For what?"

"Birthday. We're going to Dave & Buster's."

"I thought his birthday was in February."

"It is," he countered, never missing a beat. "That's the surprise. You think I'm going to throw him a party on _my_ birthday?"

"Oh, right. That makes sense."

A muffled horn sounded in the background, and he muttered something under his breath. "Anyway, I know it's last minute, but I think it would _really_ surprise him to see you there."

Me, and not Rachel.

My lips twitched.

"I think I can make the trip."

"That would be great," Cole admitted. "I mean, you saw how things are between us. I'm kind of hoping this will help get us back on the right track."

_Wow._ He was really committed to salvaging this relationship. "Well, it's a great first step. Can you text me the details later?"

Wait a second. "Hey, how did you get my number anyway?"

Cole snickered. "I was going to mention that. The dummy backs his contacts up to the cloud connected to our family plan. I had this whole spiel ready to contact the front desk of your dorm and tell them I was your senile pop-pop, but no. He served your number on a platter and didn't even realize it."

"Well, it's always nice to have contingencies." I laughed, cradling the phone to my shoulder.

"Right?" He sounded like he was smiling, too. "Anyway, yeah, I'll text you the details in a bit. Thanks for understanding."

"No problem."

I stood there in a daze, even after I hung up. Was I really going to show up at his birthday party? I'd have to pick up a gift before then—but what? I had no idea.

Before I could ponder it too much, the cafeteria door banged open, and Gabby barged outside. "She's standing outside the damn door!"

_Oops._ "Hey."

"Don't you 'hey' me." She put her hands on her hips. "What are you doing out here? Aiden texted like six times."

As if on cue, he poked his head around the door. "I thought it was weird that you missed without telling anyone."

"Sorry." I briefly considered sharing what happened but decided against the torment. "Did you guys already eat?"

Gabby looped her arm through mine. "Not yet. Mavey's holding the table."

_Mavey._ I scrunched up my nose as she dragged me inside, books and all. Their antics would be just the distraction I needed. My bravery only came in short bursts of momentum, and if I stopped to over-think my attendance at Wallace's surprise party, I'd bail on the whole thing.

For now, I just had to make it to Friday. 

#  CHAPTER 17

Rain pelted the windshield, blurring the lights of oncoming traffic. The temperature had finally stabilized, so the rain-slicked highway wasn't in danger of freezing. That was the only thing I had going for me.

Despite the two and a half hour drive, my nerves didn't catch up with me until I was within twenty minutes of Columbus. I cranked the heater full blast, but unlike Wallace, didn't bother cracking a window. The chilled air would sting my face, and I didn't need another reason to tremble. _Ugh. I can't believe I'm doing this._

I'd worn a black thermal with my favorite pair of jeans tucked into boots. It was my go-to outfit for confidence. The boots made me feel empowered, and the thermal made me feel like I was some kind of secret agent—kind of fitting, given the whole surprise angle.

If everything went according to plan, Gabby wouldn't find my note until after dinner. She'd realize I cut out of town after class and would hopefully take it in stride. After all, it was Friday. People had plans on Fridays. It wasn't a big deal.

_Tell that to my stomach._

My mind drifted into a guilt-laden fog. What would Wallace think of me seated among his family and friends? Would he be upset that I accepted the invitation, after the talk we had Sunday? He should be grateful he has a friend willing to drive this far, gift in hand.

Okay, not in hand, per se. I planned on picking something up on the way there. Still. That had to count for someth—

_BOOM!_

Ripped from my reverie, I drew a sharp breath as my car jerked left toward the median. "Shit!" I gripped the wheel, struggling to correct myself in the lane as something started thumping.

It pulsed all around me, vibrating in my seat. My heart joined the building rhythm as I veered to the right, forcing The Beast into the next lane. A car horn blasted behind me.

"Gimme a break," I yelled, throwing my hazard lights on. With a hasty glance behind me, I slowed down and maneuvered onto the shoulder. _Seriously?_

I turned the car off and pocketed the keys, fighting to hold back panicked tears. "Not good, not good..." It didn't take me long to retrieve my phone and speed-dial Drew's number. As my big brother, this definitely fell under his jurisdiction.

"Spaz," he answered. "What's up?"

"The car's freaking out," I said, wincing as someone rocketed past, splashing water against the window. "What should I do?"

He didn't say anything.

"Drew?"

"What did you do?" he asked, his tone dripping with accusation.

"I didn't do anything!"

"Then, what happened? Where are you?"

_Ah, hell._ "Columbus," I admitted, sinking down in my seat. "I'm headed to a birthday party."

"What _happened_?" he repeated with more emphasis.

"It just went _boom_ and jerked to the left. Then it started making a thumping noise, so I pulled over." More cars motored past and I felt stupid sitting there, talking on my cell phone.

"You blew a tire," he said matter-of-factly. "You blew a tire on my car."

" _My_ car," I corrected, unwilling to accept the blame for something that wasn't even my fault. "So, what do I do?"

"Do you know how to change a tire?" he asked in a tired voice.

Rain splattered against the windshield, and I looked down. "No."

He let out another breath. "Well, I wish I could help ya, kiddo, but I'm down in Athens. Can you call AAA or something?"

A lump formed in my throat as I nodded, feeling pitiful and deserted. "Yeah."

"Don't get out of the car until they get there, okay?"

"Okay," I repeated, laying my head down on the wheel. "I better go ahead and call, then."

"You'll be fine," he reassured me, and I could almost hear the laughter in his voice. "Don't freak out."

"I'm not freaking out," I groaned. "I just hate this stuff."

"Yeah, I know. So, be careful."

I lifted my head and grumbled. "I will."

"All right. I'll talk to you later."

"Bye." I hit the red button and let out a deep breath. _Great._ Now what was I supposed to do? It was getting late. Should I call Cole?

I scrolled through my contacts list, grateful that I'd put his number in after our last conversation. _Better get it over with._ I put the phone to my ear and connected before I had a chance to rethink it.

"What's up, Rena?" he answered.

His casual greeting threw me off. "Uh, hey...I'm going to be a little late."

"Ah, that's cool. Everything okay?"

"My tire blew out," I explained, feeling like an idiot. "I'm on the side of the road."

"You want me to come get you?" he asked.

I blinked. "N-No, I'm okay. I'm about to call AAA."

"Rena..." The way he said my name made me relax despite my anxiety. It was like we were old friends or something. "There's no sense in that. I'll just come change your tire, and you can follow me."

"Uh..." Was that one of those polite responses, or was he really offering?

He chuckled at my hesitation. "It's fine, really. Where are you?"

Relief eased through my tense muscles, and I melted against the seat. "I-71 South—pretty close to the Gemini exit."

"All right, give me a little bit. I'll be there as soon as I can. Stay put, okay?"

Butterflies flitted about in my stomach, and I tried to keep from smiling. _Talk about a gentleman._ "Okay."

Nineteen minutes later, dusk had settled in, blanketing the already heavy cloud cover. A Jeep Grand Cherokee angled in behind me, and Cole stepped out.

I hurried out of the car and was about to call out a greeting, when our eyes met. My mouth fell open and whatever I was going to say disappeared. I just stood there, entranced, as the rain fell between us.

His hardened gaze held the slightest glint of gunmetal as he approached me, his lips tilted in a cocky grin. Was he this hot the last time I saw him?

I backed up until I could brace myself on the car. "H-Hey..."

"Hey, yourself." His grin pulled at the corners of his eyes as he reached out to shake my hand.

Of course, by then, we were both soaked. My hand glided a little too easily into his grasp, and I forced a smile. "It's nice to see you again. "

He nodded, still holding my hand. "You too, and from the same side of the windshield this time."

About that time, a car sped past, and Cole tugged me close. Muddied water, reeking of city grime, sprayed his back, and he grimaced. "Why don't you go wait in my car?" He let me go and wrung the bottom of his shirt. "It's still warm, and this'll only take a minute."

"Like I'm going to let you get wet out here by yourself."

He barely stifled a laugh as he guided me back, away from the road.

_That did sound bad, didn't it?_

"Well, you're already wet, so..." He motioned for me to stay put and jogged back to his SUV. After a few seconds of digging around in the backseat, he waved something over the top. "You better use this." He bumped the door shut and popped open a black umbrella. "We can't have the damsel in distress getting sick, now can we?"

I'd never considered myself a damsel in distress before. Hell, I'd never even considered myself a _damsel_ , but whatever. "Thanks," I muttered as he handed it over, and rain started pattering against the top. "But what about you?"

"Don't worry about me." He flashed another one of those cocky grins and headed toward my car, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt.

_Of course._

Cole radiated that cool, bad boy sort of confidence—the kind that left most women flustered and ready. I'd never been one for blatant ogling, but the rain had left his shirt transparent. When he reached inside to pop the trunk, I saw every one of the muscles shift in his back. How was I supposed to look away?

He walked around to get the jack from my trunk, and I sucked in a deep breath. Man, Gabby would've loved this.

I _should've_ loved it. At least, more than I did.

Unfortunately, I couldn't ignore the ill-founded guilt that'd begun to ache in my chest. I wasn't doing anything wrong. If anything, I was going out of my way to surprise a friend. Yet, whenever I looked at Cole, it came in waves.

I stared at the battered strip of grass alongside the highway. It was too late to second guess my decision now, but I almost wished I _had_ told Gabby and Aiden about the party. They'd interacted with the birthday boy nearly as much as I had, and they could've been a buffer in case things got awkward. I just _had_ to be secretive.

And what about Rachel? My stomach gave a weird little flip. What if they _were_ dating and I'd ignored the signs? Not only would that be an embarrassment like no other, but I'd be obligated to leave him alone. I mean, that was the code, wasn't it? Single girls and taken guys weren't allowed to be friends. The leash always got in the way.

Was that talk yesterday her way of telling me to back off? If Wallace was keeping his relationship with her a secret from his family, my showing up in her place would be a nightmare.

"Okay, you can just follow me," Cole said.

I jumped. "What?"

He was right beside me, wiping his hands. "We'll get off a little ways up here." He pointed down the road. "Then take the ramp for I-270 West, okay?"

"You're fast," I mused, hoping to distract him from the fact that I'd completely spaced out. "Thank you."

"No problem. You ready?"

I took a deep breath. "Yeah. Let's go."

He nodded. "I'm going to swing past a friend's garage on the way. He'll either repair that tire or hook you up with a new one. You're not driving that donut all the way back to Wilcox. You can just ride with me to the party."

These Blake boys were going to be the death of my inner-cynic.

The ride there was uneventful, and after we left the garage, I felt pretty good about the situation. Cole's friend had given me a healthy discount on a new tire and said he'd get to it after his next work order. The rain had even let up, leaving nothing but the vacant chill of a winter evening.

Cole and I walked back to his Jeep in companionable silence, leaving the garage's noises and glow behind. The scent of motor oil still hung in the air after we rounded the corner, but I didn't mind. It was like inhaling testosterone in its richest form.

He'd parked in a small gravel lot just beyond the streetlight's reach. If it were any darker, we would've had to feel our way there, but he seemed to know where he was going. He trotted ahead to open the passenger door, and I struggled to catch up.

What was with the Blake boys and their chivalry, anyway? Their parents must've raised them pretty old school. "Thanks," I muttered on a yawn, slipping past him.

"No problem." He hesitated for a moment. "Oh, and Rena?"

I paused before climbing inside, glancing over my shoulder. "Yeah?"

_What the...?_

I bristled, caught off guard by his sudden proximity. He stood right behind me, smelling of mint, spice, and the faintest hint of smoke. His chest barely grazed my back, touching me just enough to make my nerves stand on end. I hadn't even heard him move.

He bent down close as I stared ahead, his warm breath less a whisper away. "I need you to cooperate."

The smooth velvet of his voice sent a chill through my body. "What?" I found myself matching his hushed tone, trying to discern his intentions. _Is he...coming on to me?_

With slow, methodic movements, he slipped his hand past my collar, reaching up to caress my jaw.

I stilled, afraid to breathe. "Cole, I don't—"

His lips brushed against my ear. "Be a good girl and sleep for me."

"Huh?" What was that supposed to mea—

Then I felt a needle prick.

My neck burned where the vein had puckered, surging from the injection. I felt my eyes widen, and a rasped scream caught in my throat. I tried to rear back, but his hold kept me flush against him. "Y-You...you..."

I swayed uneasily, clutching onto the edge of the seat. The severity of the situation was crashing down around me, and there wasn't enough time. I craned my neck back. He was going to...

_Oh God._

The last thing I saw was his placid expression, unbothered and innocent. "Good night."

#  CHAPTER 18

Something rustled.

The darkness somehow rippled at the intrusion, tugging on my suspended state. A chill swept past and prickled my skin. At least, I think it did. The sensation faded too quickly for it to completely register.

My mouth was dry and tasted like a nine-volt. I scrunched my face, struggling to make sense of...well, anything. What was going on, again?

Pressure descended over my features in a slow wave, as if awakening each part individually. My eyelids were heavy. Too heavy. They fluttered, but I couldn't seem to hold them open on my own.

"Reeeeeena..." a baritone called out in a taunting, singsong voice.

It was like a dense fog had settled in around me, and I couldn't escape its cover. Fragments of blurred memories danced through my mind, but never stopped long enough for me to catch hold. Was I...dead?

"Come on," the man prodded, and I felt something warm against my jaw. "Wake up for me, sleepyhead."

I licked my lips and felt my nose twitch. Something in the back of my mind was slowly coming to the surface. It was heavy, weighted with alarm. There was something I was missing. Something important.

"The sooner you come to, the sooner we can get this over with. I don't like this any more than you do."

_Come to? Wait._ I forced my lids open, blinking to regain control over my eyesight. The image was blurry, winking in and out like an old time filmstrip. "I..."

"There you go."

I squinted into the darkness, focusing on the faint light that spilled through a couple of broken windows. "Wh-What?" I cleared my throat a few times. Where was I? How long had I been out?

My neck felt sore as I turned to the side. Cole sat there, watching me with an unreadable expression. The light played across his sharp, angular features, and shrouded the rest of his face in shadow.

Recognition crept back in as I held his eerie, glowing gaze. " _You_." The word resonated in my mind, triggering the faded edge of a memory.

My body felt heavier as I sank into the mattress. One by one, I began to notice the old springs jabbing into my back. It was as if someone had flipped a switch inside me, and everything was flickering to life.

"Cole," I rasped. "W-Where are we?"

"How are you feeling?"

The question seemed off somehow, but I wasn't sure why. Hadn't we just...? My eyes widened by the slightest fraction as a barrage of flashbacks assaulted my mind.

"I'll...I'll kill you!" I roared, stripping my throat raw in one breath. Red seeped into my vision, and I used every last reserve of my energy to lunge for him. My arms nearly jerked out of their sockets as something cold caught my wrists and dug into the flesh.

His brows knit in hideous concern. "You shouldn't struggle so much. You'll hurt yourself."

"Screw you," I spat, as my eyes ignited with tears. Did he get off on mind games or something?

His lips curled back into a cruel smile as he held up a glowing cell phone and shook his head. "You're perfect."

"What?" The false bravado was wearing off faster than I liked. My hands were bound over my head by what felt like metal handcuffs, leaving the rest of my body vulnerable. "What are you doing?"

" _We're_ leaving a voicemail," he answered with a shrug, nonchalant about the whole thing. "It's not like we're really going to Dave & Buster's. You think Wallace will just show up on his own?"

A jolt of panic shot through my body, and I rammed my chain against the post. "Wait!"

He blew out a tired sigh, punching a button to terminate the call. "Don't worry. You're fine."

His reassuring words cut through me as if they'd been spoken by Wallace himself.

"Seriously." His voice softened as he crouched down, meeting me at eye level. "You have nothing to worry about."

My breath hitched like a break in time. I wanted to believe him with every fiber of my being, but I knew that could be a fatal mistake. "Cole," I whispered, praying he'd feel me on some level. "Why are you doing this?"

As soon as the words left my mouth, I wanted to cry. The whole thing had turned into a nightmare. It didn't make any sense. Nobody knew where I was or who I was with, with the exception of the one man I didn't dare to pin my hopes on. The way he regarded his brother, he'd never bother to listen to that voicemail. There was no point.

I choked on a sob, forcing it down against my ribcage.

Would I ever see my family again? If something happened to me, it would devastate them. Over the years, we'd been guilty of letting our schedules dictate our lives, and we hadn't gotten together as much as we should have, but if I didn't come home...

Bile rose up in my throat. I'd never felt so alone. Was this how Ari felt that night?

"Hey..." He looked upset, reaching out to smooth a strand of hair back from my face. "Relax. I don't want you to be scared."

I cringed at his touch, doing my best to hold still. Inside, my nerves were frayed and on end. With every breath I took, I willed strength into my body. "Then tell me what's going on," I said through gritted teeth.

Another icy breeze swept past, bringing with it a metallic scent I refused to recognize as blood. "Cole," I repeated urgently, lacing my voice with more authority than I possessed. "I'm serious."

He stood up, suddenly towering over my supine form. "Are you sure you want to know?" His heavy gaze spoke volumes as he studied me, lips pulled back into a tight line. "You might regret it."

_Shit._ He was talking about the grandmother thing, wasn't he? Neither of the guys seemed to notice I overheard that part. Maybe Cole thought he could trade me for her. To whom, though? And why?

I swallowed the lump in my throat. Something inside me was burning, threatening to overcome my consciousness. It was as if I'd tapped into a well of foreign, suppressed emotion. Fear, obsession, and anger—they paced the depths of my mind like a caged animal.

My life was on the verge of change. I could feel it. It was a rush in my veins—a chill in my bones. Something that told me I needed to keep Cole distracted, if I wanted to see how things played out. "Tell me."

"Knowledge is a heavy burden to bear, Rena." He walked toward the windows, letting his words echo around the room. "You don't know what you're asking."

As he spoke, I caught a scent of something oily in the air and craned my neck. A small, glowing square burned off to the side. A kerosene heater. Was there no electricity?

His silhouetted form paced back and forth.

I squinted, trying to get a quick feel for my surroundings. Decayed boards and exposed brick lined the walls, though I expected there was plaster up somewhere. It lay in dusty piles, strewn across the cement floors.

Wherever we were, it had all the charm of an abandoned depot or a condemned warehouse. The light didn't even dare to reach past the bed, exposing whatever gruesome sights lay in the abyss. I looked away, praying I hadn't heard something scamper in the darkness.

"Where are we?" I asked, hoping to distract myself this time.

"Maybe you don't understand." He paused, and I felt his gaze upon me. "The more you know, the less likely you are to leave."

That shut me up. "Sorry."

Before I could ponder my next move, he appeared at my left, kneeling beside the mattress. "So, what are you to my brother?"

I jumped. The darkness was doing weird things to my eyes. I hadn't even seen him cross the room. _Just act cool. Don't let him know you're afraid._ "W-What do you mean?" I rolled my head to the side, refusing to flinch at his intense gaze. "We're friends."

"Nothing more?"

" _Just_ friends," I emphasized, hoping that was what he wanted to hear.

He nodded in slow understanding. "Interesting."

"Is it?" I squirmed, crossing my legs.

_Wait. My legs?_

He hadn't bothered to restrain them. The realization hadn't even occurred to me. With him this close, I could probably angle myself to get a good kick in.

"Wallace has never been one to get attached," Cole mused aloud, leaning on one arm beside me. "I'm surprised he told you about me."

My heart raced with possibility. I'd only have one shot. If ramming my booted heel into his face didn't incapacitate him, I'd be in for a world of trouble. "Why?" I heard myself ask. "Are you the evil twin?"

He chuckled under his breath, flashing a sexy grin. "Cute."

"I try to be," I replied, careful to keep the edge out of my voice. If I could just keep him going...

"So, what do you know about me? You didn't seem surprised to see us fighting last weekend."

"About _you_?" I raised one eyebrow. "Not much. Wallace said you guys don't see eye to eye anymore, so I saw your throwing him a party as something I needed to support." A second ticked by, and I added as an afterthought, "You can see how well that worked out."

"Fearless little thing, aren't you?" He laughed, shaking his head. "I can see why he keeps you around."

"You bet." I smiled and jerked down on my cuffs for leverage. With a quick contortion, I channeled all the bestial fury I could muster and shot my heel at his nose.

My braced muscles protested the sharp movement as my leg extended awkwardly into the air. I nearly lost my balance, and the cuffs cut deeper into my wrists as I pulled back. He'd disappeared. He'd freakin' disappeared!

Sinking back against the mattress, I felt my heart slam against my chest. I'd failed. My only chance was gone, and now he was sure to be pissed. How the hell had he even moved like that?

"That wasn't very nice, Rena."

I nearly gave myself whiplash, frantically searching the room. "S-Sorry, I didn't—"

Weight slammed down on top of me and knocked the breath from my lungs. I gasped over Cole's shoulder as he pinned me to bed, eyes livid. "Didn't I tell you to relax?"

"Yes." I blinked away hopeless tears, struggling to find a way to recover. "I'm sorry." The words came out as a defeated whisper. I hated it.

"Look at me," he demanded, his face hovering inches from my own.

I tilted my head back, reluctant to meet his eyes. Whatever he said, I'd have to go with it.

"Don't try that again, okay?" His gaze darkened like obsidian flame.

I could only nod in response.

Something about his features softened as he stared into my eyes, searching. "Look, it wasn't you, okay? You wouldn't have had a chance, anyway."

"Why?" I whispered, unable to mask my curiosity. "I want to know."

"You want to know..." he repeated as he extracted himself, careful not to jar me as he rolled off the bed. Considerate, for a captor.

He turned away and blew out a sigh. The ensuing silence seemed to stretch on forever.

I strained to hear muffled traffic noises outside. We had to be near a street somewhere, maybe in an industrial distr—

"Did Wallace tell you our parents were killed?"

My blood froze. "What?"

"A drunk driver," he explained, his voice void of emotion. "We were eight years old."

I opened and shut my mouth. "That's...horrible." The shock didn't want to register in my brain. I struggled to create images of the two, maybe in second or third grade, trying to cope with such a jarring loss. No wonder Cole was callous. Someone had stolen his innocence.

And Wallace...

My heart constricted. Why didn't he tell me? I could've...well, I could've been there. Even if he didn't want my comfort, I could've tried. How many years had he been bottling that pain up inside?

A tear spilled down my cheek, grief-stricken and ashamed. _Damn it._ I wanted to see him. I _needed_ to see him. And as selfish as it was, I could only think of the safety and refuge I'd felt within his arms.

Over the past few weeks, I'd come to take his presence for granted. Despite my adamant protests to the contrary, I enjoyed our time together. Being with him had been easy _._ I hadn't had to explain myself or justify my actions. He'd simply accepted me as I was, even when I was...drunk.

_Oh no..._

"The name of the driver was Roman West." Cole retreated to the far end of the room, slipping into the shadows. "He got six to ten."

I wasn't sure how to respond. Was I supposed to say something?

"Seven years into the sentence, he was released on parole. Do you believe that? That's our justice system." His voice echoed off the walls, laced with latent frustration. "Take two lives—steal a lifetime's worth of memories—and you're held in the pen for less than a decade. Sent back into society to do it all over again."

Honestly, I was glad I couldn't see him. There was an unnerving edge to his tone, and it was setting off my internal alarms "Did he ever try to make it right with you guys? I mean, I know parole is pretty restric—"

"No. Not even at the end."

My stomach twisted. "The end?"

"He was killed," he replied in a flat tone, coming back into view. "Do you know how he died, Rena?"

I bit down on my lip, following his every move. "I-I don't know."

"Trauma." The corner of his mouth lifted, and his eyes glinted, reflecting the heater's small flame. "Horrific, blunt force trauma."

"From what?" I whispered.

"Who can say?" He paused, letting his words linger in the air between us. "They never found the body."

"Oh." It was like he was taunting me, luring me in for something. I didn't know what to do or say or even think. Everything was playing out before my eyes, and I was starting to feel detached from the whole situation. "Then how did you—"

"Do you know how much force it takes to inflict a death blow?" He took a few steps and sat on the edge of the bed.

"No."

"The guy was walking home from the graveyard shift, just before dawn. It was mid-February and snowing like hell. Not exactly the best time to be out on the street, ya know? Though, it must've been all the same to him. He'd already violated his parole agreement."

I was paralyzed.

"He'd scored a forty from one of his new friends at the foundry and was in the process of draining it when he was... _confronted_." He rubbed his chin.

"How do you..." I couldn't finish the sentence. I didn't want to know how he'd learned the case details. I didn't want to hear anything else about it.

"He went missing," he continued. "Never turned up."

"Please stop."

"You wanted to know so badly."

I wanted to throw up. "I know, but please, just...don't."

"We were teenagers at the time, living with our Grandma Clara. Grandpa Freddy had passed away two years before that, leaving us with no one to cling to but each other. It was a struggle to make ends meet back then. For a while, I didn't think we were going to make it."

He got up again, wandering toward the far wall. It was like he couldn't sit still. "Grandma worked through her retirement years, trying to keep food on the table. It wasn't right. She wasn't supposed to have us as her cross to bear."

"Cole..."

"Do you understand what I'm saying?" He put both hands flat on the wall, looking down at the floor. "That bastard was out on the street again, and we were the ones paying for his crime. It wasn't fair. He should have been the one to die!"

His voice was raw and rang out in the empty room. Goose bumps rose on my arms as I watched his shoulders shake with tormented emotion. This wasn't a story. It was a confession.

I couldn't speak. Colorful dots danced before my eyes, and my ears rang. "Y-You killed him."

"No." He didn't bother turning around as he lowered his voice, pausing to let his next words sink in. "Wallace did."

#  CHAPTER 19

"You're lying," I said without considering the consequences. "He wouldn't—"

"He did."

"No!"

Rain began to pound the roof as if the heavens themselves had grieved and torn apart. I shook my head as the sound grew louder, trying to make sense of something...anything. "Wallace wouldn't hurt a fly, and you know it."

" _Now_." Cole straightened and rolled his shoulders back. "You should've known him back then."

"I don't believe you," I whispered into the darkness. I didn't know where I was getting the nerve to talk back, but I couldn't stand to hear what he was saying. It was wrong, impossible.

He walked toward the windows, careful to avoid the streetlight's glow as rainwater slid down the jagged glass in streaks, dripping onto the floor. Had I upset him again? I couldn't afford to make this situation any worse—not when he held my life in his hands.

_In His hands..._

The phrase left a crack in my subconscious, just wide enough for guilt to slip in. Anyone else in my position would've been praying, pleading in a silent vigil for the past hour, and what had I been doing? Provoking my captor.

I blew out an uneasy breath and tilted my head back, picturing the nighttime sky. _Sorry for ditching church Sunday, but as you know, it was pretty much this guy's fault. If you wanted to smite him, I wouldn't blame you._

My brows drew together, and I closed my eyes. _Sorry. Coping mechanism. It's just... if You're listening, I could really use Your help here._

I was afraid to add _Amen_ , like it would sever the connection between us. Sweat dampened my hairline, and I stole another glance across the room. Cole seemed transfixed by something outside.

What was he thinking? He had yet to physically harm me, despite his threats. Was that normal? What were his plans?

Slowly, the raw, seething hatred began to seep from my veins and soak into the mattress. As much as I wanted to see Cole as the enemy, the villain, I couldn't help but feel like we were forced into these roles. By whom or what, I didn't know, but there was a missing link somewhere. There had to be.

I'd have to keep him talking, somehow. Maybe if we connected on some level, like I thought we had before, he'd let me go. It was worth a shot. I mean, what did I have to lose at this point? Wallace was our only mutual link and he...

I couldn't finish the thought.

All the suppression in the world couldn't keep the murder confession from my mind. As soon as the words were spoken, doubt wrapped itself around my heart and squeezed. I'd come full circle then, cowering at the thought of the madman.

"Two days, zero hours, thirteen minutes, and forty-three seconds," Cole muttered from across the room.

"What?"

The bed shifted, and I flinched. He'd caught me off guard again. In the blink of an eye, he'd crossed the distance between us and sat with his back to me, leaning over his knees. "Nothing. So, is it sinking in yet?"

"Is what sinking in?"

"My brother. You don't know him like you thought you did, right?" He fell back over my lap, staring up at the ceiling. "That's a bummer."

Uncomfortable didn't even begin to describe my feelings. I was utterly powerless, doing my best not to squirm beneath him. "Cole." I could barely hear my whisper over the thumping in my chest. "Just tell me why I'm here. I'll help you however I can—just give me something to work with."

I felt him stiffen as he turned to scrutinize me. "You would help me?"

"Yes," I answered a little too quickly, eager to get on his good side. "I mean, it wasn't all an act, was it? When you came to change my tire? You're not a bad person..."

"Don't be so naïve." The faint light played over his angular features and gleamed in his eyes. "I'm a bad person, I just didn't plan this."

I raised an eyebrow without thinking. _Right, so the bed and handcuffs were already here? Unlikely._

"Not until I saw you in his truck," he added, practically reading my mind. "I'd been trying to find a way to get through to him, but he was cutting me off at every pass. He wouldn't hear me out."

"Wallace? Why?"

He studied me for a moment. "We lead different lives now. He doesn't like what I do."

"What do you do?" I asked.

"I'm in commercial real estate." He gestured at the dilapidated ruins around us. "I do a little moonlighting on the side."

So _that's_ how he arranged this setup. I should've known. He didn't strike me as the squatting type. "Wait. What do you mean by moonlighting?"

He appeared almost sympathetic, pressing his lips into a grim line. "What'd I say about knowing things?"

I looked away. "Sorry."

"You can't help it, can you? You're a kitten with the backbone of a tiger." He chuckled under his breath.

The stomach cramps were back. Just when I thought I'd made progress...

He stood up and retrieved something from his pocket.

"I'm up for calling again. How about you?" Tapping a few quick buttons, he dialed the number and put it on speaker. The phone crackled with a weak connection as it rang and rang to no avail.

"Hey, this is Wallace," the recording answered. "I can't come to the phone right now, so leave your name and number, and I'll get back to you. Thanks." _Beep._

"Hey, bro! I'm a little disappointed you haven't gotten back to me. If you don't get here soon, you might miss Rena." He paused before adding, "A shame, too, 'cause she's just dying to see ya."

I swallowed as he tapped the end button, the implications of his words left lingering in the air.

"I hate this," he sighed, and something glinted in the light as he moved toward me. "Why's he so stubborn?"

Slow, glacial panic crept up through my chest, freezing everything in its wake. I couldn't move. "What're you—"

"Listen." He knelt at my bedside and put a cautious hand on my shoulder. "Hold very still for me, okay?"

That's when I saw the blade in his other hand. My eyes widened, and I jerked against the handcuffs. "N-No...no!"

"Shh..." He lightly traced his fingertips over my collarbone, up the side of my neck, and along my jaw line. Finally, he placed two fingers over my mouth, silencing my cries. "It's just an incentive."

I shivered at his touch, trying to convey frantic protests with my eyes. What the hell was he going to do? My body started shaking, and I couldn't control it. "Cole," I began, my lips brushing against his fingers. "Don't do this."

"We need a picture," he stated calmly, shifting his hand to cover my mouth. "Just a little superficial blood. You'll barely feel it."

"Mmmph!" I struggled against him, writhing like a fish out of water. Screw being calm and submissive. There was no way in hell I was going down without a fight.

"Rena." His tone sharpened as he held my head still, knife in hand. "I shit you not. If you keep moving, I'm going to accidentally nick an artery, and you really _will_ die. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Unshed tears stung my eyes as I stilled, unable to stop trembling. I gave a slight nod and watched with absolute horror. This wasn't me. None of this was happening.

The blade flashed again, and a second later, I felt the red-hot slash across my neck. My scream was almost inaudible, muffled, and suffocated beneath his grasp.

On instinct, I made to clutch at the wound and clanked my cuffs against the bar. _Damn it!_ I hissed against his hand, glowering up at the phone he held before me. _Click._ I heard the image capture and shot my murderous gaze back to him. "Mmmphmamo."

"Pardon?" He smiled, retracting his hand.

"Way to go," I repeated in a hiss. "Sending Wallace evidence now?"

"A murderer reporting a kidnapping." He pressed a few buttons on his phone before pocketing it. "You are so cute."

The thought hadn't even crossed my mind. Then again, the only thing I could concentrate on at the moment was the aching throb in my neck. It wasn't bad enough that he crammed a damn needle in there. Now he'd gone and opened it up.

"Relax." He closed the knife and shoved it into his back pocket. "It's just a scratch."

"A scratch," I echoed, shaking my head in disbelief as something warm trailed down the side of my neck. It tickled and burned, and I found myself dangerously close to the edge. "Do you hear yourself when you talk?"

He grinned, flashing perfect teeth. "Sometimes."

Then he disappeared.

No, seriously. He disappeared.

I blinked and tried to sit up. "Co—"

"Here we go." He reappeared with the slightest blur, unzipping a small red bag.

Was I getting delirious from blood loss or something? I felt the burn in my abs and leaned back. Nothing was making sense.

He threw the pack onto the mattress and rifled through its contents. It didn't take him long to find whatever he was looking for.

"All right, so"—he extracted a sanitizing packet and discarded the wrapper, rubbing the wet sheet all over his hands—"I still need to figure out what to do with you. I'm getting restless." He tore into something else, producing a small, sterile pad. "I would've thought...ah, never mind." Without another word of explanation, he reached out and pressed the pad to my neck.

The sudden pressure made me flinch, but I didn't pull away. Was he trying to stop the bleeding? It didn't make sense, but I wasn't going to question it. "What if Wallace doesn't show up?"

Cole didn't answer. His gaze had turned distant, and I knew better than to interrupt his line of thought. The last thing I needed was for him to get angry again. So, I did what any other questionably sane person would do. I lay perfectly still and waited.

A few minutes passed, and he finally pulled away, shaking his head. "He will."

"What if he doesn't?" I asked in a small voice. "Look. I won't tell anyone. I swear."

"If only it were that easy." He discarded the mess, tossing it back into the bag before snagging something else.

"W-What is—?"

"Antiseptic," he explained, leaning in to gently dab at my neck.

I hissed as the wipe made cold contact, barely touching the wound. "I'm serious." I bit my lip and waited for him to stop. "We can forget this ever happened."

"I wish I could believe that." He threw the wipe into the pack and dug around inside. "You're too close to the situation now. It's too late."

I closed my eyes, trying to digest what he'd just said. Another chill swept through my body as he applied a different kind of ointment.

"So, you're going to kill me?" I didn't recognize my own voice. It sounded so resigned, so vacant.

"Yes," he replied, matching my tone. "That's why I'm patching you up—so I can kill you."

I blinked my eyes open, scrunching my features. _What?_

He fanned my neck a few times, drying the affected area before he reached for a gauze pad. "I haven't decided yet."

"Can I help you decide?"

His mouth twitched as he pressed the gauze to my neck and secured it with medical tape. "Nice."

"Didn't hurt to try."

He opened his mouth to reply, but froze when we both heard a loud crash from somewhere below. The entire building shook with its impact, and I heard something crack in the darkness. Seconds later, the patter of rain could be heard against the floor, like a piece of the ceiling had caved in.

My heart leapt into my throat. Was the building falling apart? Had a SWAT team blown off the doors downstairs?

Cole stood, knocking his stool back as he shifted into a readied stance. With his eyes trained on the far side of the room, the slightest hint of a smile curved his lips. He knew what was coming.

"What's going on?" I whispered, squinting into the darkness. A lot of good my recon-thermal did. I felt exposed and powerless. It was one thing to deal with Cole's flighty mood patterns, but now I had to deal with an outside variable? _Please be Wallace...please be Wallace..._

My question fell upon deaf ears as Cole stood there, eagerly awaiting the unknown. Footsteps pounded in the distance, growing louder and louder. What other tricks did he have up his sleeve?

"Seems our time's up," he finally muttered, casting me a sideways glance as he bent to brace himself on the mattress. "How about one last photo-opp?"

"What do you mea—"

Before I could finish, he crushed his lips to mine. Jolts of hysteria shot through my system, and I squeezed my lids shut. _What the hell?_

My body felt like it was on fire, born of shock and embarrassment. It was intense and raw and completely _wrong_. I wrenched my face to the side and tried to pull away.

He was unfazed, keeping his mouth against mine as the footsteps came to an abrupt halt. Whoever it was, they were already in the room. Didn't he realize that? _Get off! Get off!_

As if hearing my unspoken pleas, the newcomer echoed the same demand in a low, dangerous tone, "Get. Off." _Wait._ I knew that—

And then all hell broke loose.

#  CHAPTER 20

My eyes flew open as Cole was ripped back and thrown across the room. His body slammed against the wall with a lifeless thud, and I cringed, hearing bricks shower down around him. It all happened so fast. I couldn't process—

The dark, hooded form of a man stood over the bed, his shoulders heaving with deep, enraged breaths. I opened my mouth to scream but froze as a surge of foreign outrage pulsed through my body. It inhabited me for a moment, synchronizing with the steady pounding in my chest. "Wallace...?"

He ignored me, reaching over my head to grasp the chain between my handcuffs. With one sharp tug, they snapped apart like cheap plastic, and my elbows bounced against the mattress.

My arms were numb and my wrists were raw—still encircled by the cuffs—but I was free. _Just like that. Free._

But what the hell _was_ this guy? I jerked away from him, fear prickling my exposed skin. Whatever he'd done to break those cuffs, it wasn't human. I'd worked on those things for an hour, and they didn't budge. That chain was solid freaking steel.

I scooted back, to the edge of the bed, and didn't realize there was nothing to brace me until I fell. My eyes shot wide as I flailed in a last ditch effort to grab something.

"Rena!" He dove over the mattress and caught my arm at the last second. His grip was strong and possessive as he pulled me upright from where I'd dangled, skull mere inches from the floor. "What happened?"

That's when I caught it—the stormy scent of rain and evening air. I looked up as he released my arm. "It _is_ you." Relief came over me so strongly, I nearly jumped him. Too bad it was eclipsed by pain. _What the hell did he do to my arm?_

"What happened?" he repeated, tearing back the dark hood that'd cloaked his hardened features. Narrowed blue eyes glowed, piercing the shadows.

His terse words cut through me like a knife. There was no pleasantry in his tone. No ounce of sympathy. He hadn't come to save me.

I scrambled to stand up, pushing myself to unsteady feet. "I...uh..."

I rubbed at my arm where he'd caught me and licked the taste of Cole's unwelcomed kiss from my lips. What was I going to do?

"Are you okay?" he asked in a tone that didn't soften as he started around the bed.

I held up my hands in defense, eyeing him as I backed toward the kerosene heater. "Listen..." My mind was racing. What was I supposed to say? "H-He got my number from your contacts and called me."

The cords in his neck bulged, and I put the heater between us. "He said he was throwing you a surprise party, so I... drove down."

"And what would possess you to do something so stupid?" His voice rose, and he ran a hand through his damp hair, making it stand on end. Apparently, he hadn't gotten the hood up quickly enough to avoid the downpour. "You drove to Columbus to meet up with a guy you barely knew. Do you ever _think_ before you act?"

The heater's warmth rose to my face. Was he serious? I'd just said that I'd endured this shit to help him out, and he was mad at me? "Because, obviously, I should've known your brother was a psychopath. Besides, as far as I was concerned, you were going to be there!"

"See, this is what I like," Cole interjected with a laugh, dusting himself off. "One second she's all timid and then _reeoowr_! Hellcat."

"Shut up!" Wallace threw a dangerous look over his shoulder before turning back to me. "I distinctly remember sharing the fact that my brother and I don't see eye to eye anymore."

"And I distinctly remember you saying you were going to let it go," I said through clenched teeth, hoping to mask the hurt in my voice. A wall of tears stung my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. "Look, I came. I thought it was for you, but I was wrong. Why don't I just make this easier on all of us and go?"

_Go call the cops, that is._ I turned and took a step toward the dark end of the room. There had to be an exit somewhere. I was done with this situation. I just wanted out.

"Cole, don't," Wallace warned.

Something slammed into me, jarring my entire body, and hands grasped my arms. I jerked my chin upward, feeling the last shred of my patience wear thin. "Don't touch me."

Cole's eyes creased with sardonic ecstasy, like I'd played right into whatever he had planned.

"I'm serious," I spat, thrusting my arms up to break his hold. They cut through his hazy afterimage, and I blinked. Okay, his reflexes were getting weird. Like, trippy weird.

"Easy there." Cole coaxed from behind me.

I whirled around, falling back into a defensive stance. I'd let my guard down. Again. How did that keep happening?

Wallace stormed across the room, his unzipped hoodie trailing back like a cloak. Before I could say anything, I found myself staring up at the wide expanse of his back as he positioned himself between us. Why would he—

He shifted his weight. "Let's make this clear now. You do not touch her. At all."

"I can 'not touch her' _again,"_ Cole teased, more calm than he should have been.

"Enough!" Wallace reached forward, grabbing his brother by the collar. "This isn't one of your games."

I peeked around his arm, unsure of what to do. Was this the time to run? They were both preoccupied. Maybe I could just slip away and...

"Relax." Cole shrugged him off, straightening his shirt. "It got you here quick enough, didn't it? What'd you do? Sense your girlfriend's distress signal?"

Wallace's posture went rigid. "Shut up."

Girlfriend comment aside, Cole made a good point. We were at least two and a half hours from school, and I was pretty sure the first call had only been a little over an hour ago. Wallace would've had to have left before that, but that didn't make sense. "Were you already in town?"

"What?" Wallace turned to regard me, confusion etched into his features. "What do you mean?"

"How did you get here so fast?" I asked. "How did you even know where to go?"

Something changed in his eyes, and he looked away. "I don't know."

"You don't know?" I snapped, crossing my arms over my chest. "So, you just came here on a whim?"

"Yeah, Wallace," Cole chimed in, stretching out across the bed. "How'd you know?"

I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Cool, levelheaded Wallace was actually allowing himself to be backed into a corner and not in a controlled way like yesterday. He flexed his hands and tightened them into fists, as redness crept around his collar. "Cole, if I were you, I'd—"

"How about this?" Cole sprang to his feet in one, effortless motion. "If you lend me your"—he hooked his fingers in the air like quotation marks—" _expertise_ Sunday night, I won't feel inclined to clean up this little mess."

That wasn't an offer he'd just made on the fly. It was too heavy, too practiced. Before, I thought this was about him needing bait, but it was more than that. I was his leverage, his bargaining chip. If Wallace didn't agree to help him—

"We're leaving," Wallace growled, drawing deep breaths through his nose. I'd never seen this side of him. Hell, maybe Cole was right. Maybe I didn't know him like I thought I did. "And if you think, for one minute, I'm going to overlook this..."

"Think you can outrun me?" Cole quipped, amused.

"Hey," I cut in without thinking. "The hostage isn't going anywhere with anyone, until someone answers my damn questions."

Wallace rubbed his temples and blew out a sigh. "Don't call yourself a hostage."

The chains dangled as I held up both wrists. _Not a hostage, huh?_

His gaze lingered on my arms and then slid over my head. "Give me the key."

"Sure you don't want to break 'em off?" Cole asked. "You already ruined them. That's forty bucks I'll never see again."

"Give. Me. The. Key." Wallace spat the words through clenched teeth, barely keeping hold of his composure. This man was a stranger to me. I'd never seen him so tense.

Something flew past, and he reached out to catch it in midair. Without a word, he manipulated a small silver key in his hand until it faced the right way. "Give me your wrist."

I stood there like a deer in the headlights, conflicted by his request. Part of me wanted to obey without question, and the other part trembled at the thought of his touch.

"Please," he added quietly, holding out his hand.

I cringed, finally giving my mind the ounce of leeway it needed. Doubt slipped in, dark and unannounced, to weigh on my emotions. Had Wallace really taken someone's life? Looking at his outstretched palm, all I could see was blood—slick and crimson, deceitful and cruel. I'd dismissed the notion before, but now I couldn't seem to ditch the Lady Macbeth goggles. Was he...a killer?

"Rena." He lowered his voice, staring at me with a pitiful mix of confusion and bewilderment. It was like staring into the face of a little boy, lost and looking for someone to cling to. "What is it?"

"Nothing." I snatched the key without asking and crammed it into the lock on my left cuff. "Don't worry about it." I could hear Cole laugh behind me, but I chose to ignore it. He wouldn't help the situation.

"A-Are you..." Wallace nearly choked on the words, lifting his brows in disbelief. "Are you afraid of me?"

My hand shook as I twisted the key in the lock, and the metal arm sprang open. I discarded the broken cuff without looking and flinched when it cracked against the floor. "No."

"Hey." He started to reach out and froze, half-bent to meet my eye. "Seriously. You can tell me."

I made quick work of the other cuff. "What'll you do, if I don't tell you?" I forced the words out, knowing I wouldn't have the nerve to bring it up later. "Kill me?"

All semblance of life slipped from his features, and his lips parted in shock. It was like watching someone witness a car wreck in slow motion. Helpless, sick, terrified.

My heart gave a painful squeeze. "Sorry, that was out of li—"

"He told you," he muttered, straightening with vacant resignation.

I looked down, unsure of what to say. It'd become too real. His reaction, the feeling gnawing in my chest—it wasn't just a suspicion anymore. "It's true, isn't it?"

"I...I'm sorry."

I closed my eyes and the tears I'd been holding spilled from beneath my lashes. I bit my lip and shook my head, trying to absorb the information. That wasn't what I'd wanted to hear. All of my illusions of him were shattering, ones I hadn't even realized I'd made.

"B-But why?" _Oh God._ I sounded like I was crying.

He hesitated before speaking, his voice barely above a whisper. "Can we discuss this outside?"

_Outside? Alone? With a killer?_

I glanced back at Cole through a film of blurry tears.

"Is there any point taking her outside?" Cole asked, lifting his chin toward his brother. "Dead girls don't tell secrets, you know."

"I got that the first time," Wallace snapped.

"So, let me ask you again. Are you gonna go with me or not?" Cole's voice rose in irritation. "I need an answer."

Why was I holding my breath?

Wallace stared at me for a long moment before he spoke. "If that's what it takes, then yes—but give me a minute to deal with her first."

_Deal with her?_

"Take all the time you need," Cole said, a smile playing at his lips as he leaned back against the wall. "She's your problem now." When we didn't move, he dismissed us with a flick of his hand. "Go. I'm not gonna stop you. We'll figure this out when you're done."

What had I gotten myself into?

#  CHAPTER 21

Rain pelted the ground in icy streaks, slamming against the sidewalk. Everything was slick, reflecting light and color like a greasy oil painting.

We sat on the steps of what I'd correctly assumed to be an abandoned factory, and the cool stone pressed through my jeans. Thankfully, the recessed entryway was doing its part to shield us from the elements. I couldn't have dealt with the bitter wind, otherwise.

No one seemed to be out and about—not that they'd have any reason to. The street looked to be part of a dated industrial district with no active tenants. There wasn't a soul to be seen in either direction.

"Are you cold?" The rich timbre of Wallace's voice did little to soothe my nerves.

I turned to regard him with all the icy stoicism I could muster. This was not the time for small talk.

He stared at me for a moment, his eyes wandering over my body in slow assessment. Without a word, he shrugged out of his hoodie and folded it over his arm. The gesture, simple as it was, hurt me in a way I couldn't describe. How could he still act like that, when he'd...he'd...I shivered again. _Damn it._ I took the heavy sweatshirt and draped it around my shoulders. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it."

Rain continued to pound the sidewalk, creating static in our silence.

"I never wanted you to be involved," he said.

"You've made that abundantly clear." I pressed my lips together, trying to keep my expression neutral. "And you know what? That's fine. As far as I'm concerned, we can just pretend none of this ever happened and go our separate ways."

_Ah, hell._ He was giving me that hurt look again, like I was driving a blade into his chest. "What?"

"Is that what you really want?"

_Ugh._ "Yes. No. I don't know!"

"Rena." He angled his back to the wall so he could face me. "Don't misunderstand me. I didn't want you to get involved, because of the danger. Look at what happened to you tonight."

"So, why didn't you just agree to help him to begin with?" I asked, pulling his sweatshirt across my chest. "You could've spared us both a lot of grief."

Wallace shook his head and let out a sigh. "Cole has a strained relationship with the truth."

"Seeing as we're not at Dave & Buster's right now, I believe it, but who lies about their grandmother?"

He stiffened. "You heard that?"

"Yeah."

A car alarm went off somewhere down the block. "Let's just say there's more to this situation than you understand."

"Apparently, there's more to a lot of things," I mumbled, kicking at a bottle cap. "You let me make an ass of myself, that night in your room. Were you going to tell me about the drunk driver?"

Wallace winced. "I...didn't know how to bring it up."

"I guess that makes sense. I'm sure Rachel's never given you cause to relive it, being a saint and all."

"Rachel?" he asked, incredulous. "What does she have to do with anything?"

"She...you...well, you're dating, aren't you?" _Smooth, Rena. Really smooth._

"What? What gave you that idea?" A thousand emotions raced past, reflecting in his eyes. "You thought we were...?"

"Well, hell, I didn't know. You guys seemed so close, and she's always sitting with you in the dining hall." I crossed my arms, feeling more and more self-conscious. "I just figured—"

"We're not together," he said in a firm tone. "She doesn't know anything more than you did a few days ago. In fact, she probably doesn't even know that much."

"Oh." The wind howled, grounding me in reality when I wanted, so badly, to retreat into the depths of my mind.

"I do want to confide in you." His strained voice broke me free of my musings. "But, you've got to understand I just...can't."

I shot him a hard look. The cryptic excuses were getting old. "What you choose to tell me is your business. I'm just saying, if you wanted to let me in, you would. That's all there is to it."

Even though he'd confessed to it, I couldn't bring myself to think of Wallace as some cold-blooded killer. Sure, I found myself a little nervous—maybe even fearful—earlier, but a few words from him and it all went away. I knew I was being stupid, but I wanted to feel safe around him again—even if it was a temporary delusion.

"I guess you're right. I don't want to," he conceded, pausing for a moment. "If you hadn't gotten invol—"

"Ugh. Would you just shut up about that already?" I dug the heels of my palms into my temples. "Seriously, I get it. It was a mistake to trust your brother, knowing you two have problems. That's done. Do you understand what I'm saying? I'm already in this, Wallace. It's too late to worry about that now."

He stared at me for a moment, and I squirmed under the weight of his gaze. "What?" I snapped, frustrated by the sudden lull.

"I don't understand how you're dealing with all of this."

I blinked. "Well, I..." _Geez._ When would he stop catching me off guard? "I don't really have a choice, do I?"

He looked down and blew out a sigh. "You know that if I tell you, it's going to change things, right?"

"Yeah." Of course I knew. I'd known for a while now. How I knew, well, that was another story. That one still left me in the dark.

"Before I go on, I have to say"—he met my gaze and gave a heartbreaking smile, resigned and bittersweet—"I really enjoyed our time together."

My nerves twitched.

"What does that mean?" I felt dizzy as I reached out and grabbed his arm. "What are you going to do?" _Was this what he meant by dealing with me?_

He didn't flinch at the contact, and I forced myself to hold on. His skin was warm and hard to the touch, taut with layers of muscle. For a moment, I felt stable, like I could brace myself for whatever was coming.

"Nothing," he finally answered. "What I meant was, you might not feel comfortable around me after this, so I just wanted to—I don't know—thank you."

"Don't say stuff like that." I tightened my grip, swallowing the last of my nerves. "Just tell me."

#  CHAPTER 22

"I don't know where to start. I don't even know what Cole told you," Wallace muttered, blowing out another sigh.

I let my hand fall back, limp at my side. "He didn't say much. I think he was trying to scare me."

"Doesn't surprise me. He's always been like that." He turned and hunched forward, leaning over his knees to draw a slow breath. "It was a Wednesday night. I think we were eight at the time, spending the night with our grandparents."

He wasn't looking at me, but I could practically feel the latent emotion stirring inside him. Already, it was starting to poison my veins with apprehension.

"Mom was a teacher at the middle school, and they were having some kind of parents' night. My dad went along to set up." He paused, pressing his lips together as he swallowed. "They were on their way home when this drunk driver went left of center and hit them head-on. They died at the scene. I-I remember the phone rang, and Grandma started crying. I'd never seen her cry before."

I didn't know what to do. Comforting was never my strong suit. Should I say something?

"It's a little blurry after that. Lots of people came to the house, and we didn't go to school for the rest of the week. There were services and dinners and..." He trailed off. "Eventually, the driver was found guilty of two counts of...uh, something like vehicular manslaughter. There were a few other charges, too. Drunk driving, reckless driving, I don't know."

He ducked his head down, running his fingers through the uneven tufts of hair. "He was sentenced to up to ten years in prison but got out after seven on parole. It's like lives don't even matter anymore. You kill two people and do less time than if you'd stolen something."

I reached out and gingerly rubbed his shoulder. I could only guess how hard it'd been on them, especially at such an impressionable age.

"People talked. In our town, people talked... _a lot_ ," he explained. "Word got around that this guy, Roman, was working the third shift at the foundry. Someone said he was drinking again." A muscle ticked in his jaw. "Cole and I took it too personally. We were upset and wanted—no, we _needed_ —to confront him."

I swallowed hard and forced myself to nod. I knew what was coming.

"We told Grandma goodnight and went to bed like nothing was wrong." He shook his head. "We thought we were so slick then, acting like it was some kind of mission. Now, when I look back on it, I think we just needed that closure. It was always going to be left undone, until we came face-to-face with him, ya know? The monster from our nightmares."

His voice lowered as he continued, "Half an hour before his shift was supposed to end, we slipped out through the basement window, taking the back way on foot."

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I wasn't ready to hear this.

"We took cover behind a dumpster in the lot across the street from the foundry. It didn't take long. He showed up in the parking lot around six, walking some guy to his car. For a minute there, I didn't think we were going to be able to go through with it. It wasn't like we could face him in front of someone."

"Good point," I muttered in a half-assed attempt at encouragement. I wanted to throw up.

"As it turned out, he'd only gone to get something out of the guy's car. A bottle in a brown paper bag." He clenched his jaw. "He slipped him a few bucks and started down the street. I guess he must've lived within walking distance. We waited until the coast was clear to follow and cut him off by the park."

My throat was closing.

"Once we were sure there was no one around, Cole dragged him into the darkest line of trees, near the edge." His shoulders shook, and I felt my brows draw together. "He hadn't learned a damn thing in those seven years. I mean, there he was, drinking his way home." His voice was rough and cracking; he clenched his fist. "Didn't he feel any kind of remorse at all? We just wanted to scare him. To make him think..."

"Wallace," I interrupted in a soft voice.

"He was getting loud and belligerent and I just...snapped. I wasn't even thinking. I just hit him and..." He trailed off.

"You killed him."

"Yeah." His eyes were glossy with unshed tears as he turned to face at me. "Cole told me to get out of there. He said he'd take care of it. I didn't know what to do. I just started running. I got home and I...I just _lost it_. I never meant to hurt him, Rena. Honestly. You have to believe me. I didn't think—"

"I know." I leaned over and carefully wrapped my arms around him, wishing there was something more I could do.

He stiffened, and a shudder echoed through his solid form. "Don't."

"S-Sorry," I stammered, pulling away. What the hell was wrong with me? He confessed to murder, and I hugged him?

He hung his head in defeat. "There's more. Cole carried the body through Smiths' field to these crude oil storage containers on the outskirts of town. They have these manholes on top that aren't used unless the tank's being serviced, and that could be years in between. The company pumps from the outside. There's no need to look in there, unless—"

"Wallace," I interrupted before he veered off course. "How do you know all this?"

"Grandpa used to pump oil. He took us out there a few times when we were younger."

"Oh." I chewed my lip, trying to mesh the two stories together. Their grandfather's name was Freddy, wasn't it?

"Cole climbed up and ditched the body inside," he continued. "He made it home before sunrise, and Grandma woke us up for school like nothing happened."

"Did they"—I twisted my hands on my lap—"ever find the guy?"

"No." His eyes were downcast again. "He was reported as a missing person. Someone came to talk to us about his disappearance, but Grandma attested to the fact that we were both home and in bed. There was no evidence found that said otherwise. The search and investigation went on, but nothing ever came of it."

"Oh."

"It gets worse." As he spoke, he began to rock back and forth. "That summer, lightning struck too close, and the container caught fire. You probably heard about it. It was all over the state news six or seven years ago. Crews had to come put it out, before it spread across the whole field."

My stomach leapt up into my throat. Talk about karma. When Roman got behind the wheel that night, he cast a stone into the water—seven years later, the ripple came back to pull him under. "So, now his family will never know what happened to him."

"Seems that way," he answered.

I thought about it for a moment and straightened, turning to face him. "Something still bothers me."

He met my gaze with weighted blue orbs, like he'd been expecting the objection. "What's that?"

It was going to sound stupid, and I hated to drudge it up again, but it didn't make sense. "You killed him...with one punch?"

His expression turned grim. "That's the other thing I need to tell you."

#  CHAPTER 23

The wind picked up, and I burrowed even deeper into his sweatshirt. Though it'd gotten colder, beads of chilled perspiration were starting to form along my hairline.

"This probably goes without saying, but you have to promise to keep this to yourself," Wallace said, carefully regarding me. "I'm serious."

"Okay." I gave him a strange look, holding my hands up in defense. "What? I get it."

He drew in a deep breath and looked up at the darkened sky. "Remember the bruises?"

What did that have to do with anything?

"The bruises." He gestured toward me with an impatient sweep of his hand. "Your shoulders, your—I don't know—anything else I've touched." He tilted his head and looked at me. "Let me see your arm. The one I grabbed earlier."

"My arm?" I quirked an eyebrow and brought my arm around the blanketing of his sweatshirt. "You don't think—"

"Roll up your sleeve."

I begrudgingly complied, tugging at the soft, black material. "It's just..." I trailed off. A red, slightly swollen handprint covered half of my forearm. "Oh."

"Do you get it now?" A rueful expression marred his handsome features. " _That's_ how it happened. I can't hold back."

"You mean, like, latent anger or something? Something you express with excessive force?" That actually sounded halfway intelligent. Why didn't I think of that before?

"No." He closed his eyes for a long, agonizing moment while I waited with suspended breath. "What I'm trying to say is that I have these gifts— _curses_ , really—that I'm trying to deal with. One of them is an abnormal amount of strength." His eyes opened the slightest crack, like he was trying to gauge my reaction.

My reaction, of course, was a _WTF?_ face. "You're telling me you have some kind of herculean superpower?" I asked. "You're so strong that you can't control yourself?" Nervous laughter shook my shoulders, and I did my best not to roll my eyes. "Anything else I should know?"

"I'm an empath."

Oh, for the love of all that was right in the world. "So, you're not really going to tell me, are you?"

His eyes darted to mine, and his pupils turned to pinpricks. "You don't believe me?"

"Believe you?" I leaned back, giving an awkward half-grin. "You're not serious."

"You're scared," he said, staring me down. "You're so terrified that you're suppressing it. The denial, the laughter, the fidgeting—you don't want to let yourself believe it."

I opened and shut my mouth. His tone left little room for argument.

"I found you because, for whatever reason, I've become attuned to you. I don't need to see you or to be in your presence to know what you're feeling. I've lain awake nights that you've lain awake, just because you were upset over something. From the moment I met you, I haven't been able to turn it off." He ran his hands back through his hair. "I didn't know what was going on when I came looking for you. I just knew you were scared, and I had to find you, okay? That's why he hurt you, and that's what brought me here."

My ears rang, and a colored edge blurred my vision. It didn't make sense. Any of it. "What are you saying? T-That you're not human?" I grasped at the wall for support. "That's how you...? Because you're... you're..." _Wait._ "Then Cole...?"

"He's fast, isn't he?" he asked in a quiet voice, adding, "He heals fast too."

"So, that's how he—" _No._ I couldn't even consider it. I had to stop this conversation before it got out of hand. "Tell me you're kidding."

He didn't answer.

"Wallace," I raised my voice, pleading and demanding in the same breath. "Tell me you're kidding."

Nothing.

"Say something!" I shouted.

"What do you want me to say?" His sharp gaze sparked with electricity, and he pressed his lips into a mulish line. "That I'm a monster? That I'm something you shouldn't have to deal with?" He worked the muscles in his jaw in an obvious attempt to control himself. "I won't give you a reason to run, Rena. You'll have to make that decision for yourself."

I let out a breath I hadn't even realized I'd been holding. "Then _what_ are you?" I raked a hand back through my hair, tearing my gaze from his. "I think I deserve to know that much."

Silence, dense and obtrusive, slithered between us. Its coiled passage left me unnerved, anxious. Was I prepared for this?

"I'm a Dynari," he said. "I come from a line of people with gifts that exceed human limitation."

My cheeks tingled, and I knew the color was slowly draining from my face. Only one word escaped my throat. "How?"

"I don't know. There's no known origin of the Dynari." He paused, furrowing his brows. "At least, not that I've ever known. Even on our family crest, it just says, ' _Divina sum stirpe._ '"

_"Divina stirpe?"_

"It's Latin," he explained, reluctantly meeting my gaze. "The way my grandma explains it, it means 'I am of the divine bloodline'—some kind of arcane influence from my ancestors."

I couldn't bring myself to respond. My words had completely and totally run dry.

"Look, I know it seems like a lot right now, but I need you to believe me. You're the closest thing I have to a best friend, and I don't want you to be afraid of me. Ever. We may call ourselves different things, but deep down"—he thumped his chest over his heart—"we're the same, where it counts, aren't we?"

It took me a moment to find my voice. My brain was too busy misfiring signals, flooding my system with adrenaline. "How many of you are there?"

"I don't know," he answered, rubbing at the back of his neck. The frustration that had been etched into his brooding features was starting to fade away, replaced by exhaustion that lined his eyes and tugged at his mouth. "I've got relatives that I'll probably never meet, just like anyone else. They're scattered all over, and God only knows what they're capable of. Grandma says the bloodline has been torn asunder over the years."

My leg was pumping so fast, I had to slide a hand down my thigh to steady it. "And these abilities, they all manifest differently?"

He hefted his shoulders, looking tired beyond reason. "It seems that way."

"Oh." I felt numb.

"I just wanted you to..." He trailed off, abruptly rising to his feet. Alarm tightened his jaw as he hissed a sharp breath, clutching his left eye. "J-Just..." He ripped a key ring from his pocket and held it in front of my face, letting the keys dangle. "Go lock yourself in my truck. Now."

I stood up alongside him. "What? Why? Is it Cole again?"

His gaze turned a little frantic as he surveyed the area with one eye, searching for something. A split second later, he thrust the keys into my hands and made for the alley. "Just go!"

I jerked at his tone and clenched the keys in my fist, cutting a jagged groove into my palm. Had I said something wrong? The whole thing was a lot to digest, let alone believe, but I was pretty proud of the way I'd handled it. I hadn't even freaked out.

Yet.

My shoes felt like cement as I watched him disappear around the corner. Lock myself in the truck? Why? What was he trying to protect me from?

I crammed the keys into my pocket and looked around. Only half of the streetlights were lit, lending to the rough, industrial atmosphere. Nothing had changed in the past minute, so how could we be in danger?

With a quick tug, I draped the hood of his sweatshirt over my eyes like a cowl and stepped out into the rain. Now what? I had a thousand thoughts racing through my brain, and not a single one of them provided a course of action.

Guilt clenched my stomach as I shoved my arms into the sleeves and rolled them up, before zipping the sweatshirt from my thighs to my neck. Wallace didn't have protection from the rain now. He was going to get soaked, and for what? Was it for my sake?

I skirted the building, making my way toward the edge. The bricks abraded my palms like a slick, petrified sponge, and I grimaced. Did the rain even bother someone like him? _Oh God._ What was I saying?

_Okay, okay._ The plan was to take a quick look on three. If Wallace had already lost me, I'd take it as a sign and go off in search of the truck. If he was there, I'd confront him. That was all there was to it. _One...two..._

_Three!_

My heart hammered in my chest as I peered around the corner, and my gaze locked on his crumpled form. It was dark, but I could make out his rocking silhouette, knelt down on the pavement. I opened my mouth, poised to call out to him, when a tortured scream echoed between the two buildings.

"Wal—" A hand clamped down on my shoulder, and I jumped back.

"Leave him," Cole said, watching blank-faced as his brother writhed in pain.

Something fiery shot through my veins as I whirled around to face him. "Where the hell did you come from?"

"Because _that_ matters right now." He rolled his eyes. "And I was listening from the window, so don't bother feigning ignorance."

_That's it._ Rage consumed my vision as I balled my fist and twisted my hips, throwing a hard right at his jaw. As I should've expected, I caught nothing but raindrops on the back of my hand. He was already three paces back, hands in his pockets, looking highly amused.

"I shouldn't have restrained you before," he mused. "This is way more entertaining."

I didn't think after that. I just lunged. The shadowed scenery twisted, and I crashed onto the sidewalk, growling out my frustrations. _Don't stay down!_ I pushed myself to my feet and braced for retaliation.

My knees and elbows were pulsing with pain that had yet to completely register. There wasn't time. I finally had my captor on even ground. I just needed one opportunity, one hit to catch him off guard, and he'd be out of the way.

Then I'd tend to Wallace. Screw this superpower shit. I was 120 pounds of angry, wet female, and I was ready to fight. Cole wouldn't stop me a second time.

"Rena, seriously." He rounded on me, holding his hands up at his sides. "You're going to hurt yourself, and then my brother over there is going to pay me back tenfold—so, let's avoid that."

"Like you give a shit about me," I spat, keeping my arms up. "You can't just kidnap someone and expect everything to be fine. Obviously, you need Wallace for something, but you picked a fight with me first. I don't care if you bartered my life for his cooperation. I'm not some pawn in your game."

A loud growl emanated from the alleyway, and my desperation kicked up another notch. "That's your brother over there," I berated. "Don't you care what's happening to him?"

Cole looked taken aback, almost insulted. "You act like I can stop it. He's been having clusters since he was seventeen."

"Clusters?" A cool wind slipped past, bringing with it a horrible realization. "It's eight thirty."

"Yeah."

I hadn't even considered it. I'd been so caught up in the moment, the thought never even occurred to me. Another weight stacked onto my load of guilt. "He came all the way here, without his meds, for me? That's so stupid..."

And sweet, on a disturbing level.

"I bet he didn't think about it. He probably sensed your distress and came straight here, without considering the consequences." He shrugged. "Lucky you."

The fear dissipated, replaced by a resentful sense of comfort. It was strange. I felt like I was dealing with my friend's brother, instead of my captor. "You know what?" I asked, trying to change the subject. "I think I'll call you AssCole."

"Cute." The corner of his lips twitched upward as he gave me a once-over, shaking his head. "Gotta say. I wish we'd met under different circumstances."

_Are we seriously having this discussion?_ I eased my stance and rubbed at my temples. "Will you at least answer some questions now?"

He hunched his shoulders, letting the rain soak through his shirt. "Shoot."

It was either a trap, or I'd gained some leverage somehow. "Okay, so, you guys aren't just jerking my chain about this bloodline thing, right? I mean, you're pretty quick on your feet and he's left some bruises, but is he, like, rip-through-a-telephone-book strong?"

"Rena, he could rip through a telephone _pole_ without realizing it. We're not just"—he made quotations in the air—"'jerking your chain.'"

As soon as the words left his lips, I understood. Wallace had snapped my handcuffs apart as if they were a toy. There was no disputing it.

A heart wrenching cry sounded from the alley and before I knew it, my legs were moving of their own accord. I jogged to the corner, without regard to Cole or anything else, squinting into the darkness.

Wallace rocked back as he let out another growl and slammed his head onto the pavement. "Grrrraaaah!" He reeled back, clutching at his left eye with one hand and holding onto the base of his skull with the other.

Even after a night's worth of horrors, it was the worst thing I'd witnessed. He was a man possessed by pain. Gruesome, tortured pain. And there wasn't a thing I could do about it.

"Every night," Cole commented behind me, not bothering to pull me away.

"If he's so strong, how is anything standing when he's like this?" I asked. It was a horrible thing to ponder at the time, but I couldn't help it.

"Wallace is significantly weakened during these episodes." His voice was tight as he leaned against the building. "He's usually out of commission for a while."

"I'm surprised you don't take advantage," I quipped humorlessly. "You know, strong-arm him while he's down."

My hood had fallen back in our near-scuffle, and I hadn't bothered to fix it. Trails of rainwater slid down my face and dripped from my chin. I could barely feel it.

"I'm a lot of things, Rena, but I'm not cruel."

I shifted my gaze to his. "You cut me." Was he crazy? "You pretended to be nice and drugged me with a needle. I woke up in a freakin' warehouse! Are you serious? You used me against him."

Okay, he'd hit a nerve.

He sighed and crossed his arms. "Would you have cooperated otherwise? You were the incentive." His eyes were alight in the darkness, half-mast with subdued interest. "It's not like I really hurt you, right?"

_Aside from mental scarring that will probably take years of therapy to resolve? No, I guess not._ "So, am I to understand that if I don't keep this secret, you'll kill me?"

"No."

A zephyr of hope whirled inside me, stirring a second wind to run on.

"If you tell," he continued, "I'll have to kill both of you."

"What?" I shrieked, wiping the rain from my lashes. "You'd kill your own brother because of me?"

"He accepted responsibility when he told you about us." He paused as if that made perfect sense. "Look, just think about it this way. If you let our secret slip, it'll become a problem bigger than just the three of us. You'd be endangering everyone in my family that carries the bloodline. Who even knows how many that is? The government and media would intervene, chasing us down like lab rats. Sure, I'd get away easily enough, but Wallace? Not without going against his precious sainthood. I'd be doing him a favor."

I swayed uneasily on my feet, running through scenarios that made a disturbing amount of sense. "B-But..."

"That's assuming anyone believed you," he said. "Best case scenario, they lock you up for medical evaluation."

I shook my head, spraying the air with rogue droplets. "No, just...forget I asked."

His lips twisted into a smirk. "Sure."

#  CHAPTER 24

Half an hour later, Cole and I were locked in a shivering stalemate. Neither of us seemed to trust the other enough to walk away, so we waited together. Or at least, beside each other.

The rain drowned out Wallace's groans, but his screams were still fresh in my mind. Over and over, he'd slammed his head against the bricks, tortured and delirious with pain. I couldn't even begin to imagine what he'd gone through—what he goes through _every night_.

I took a shaky step forward and paused, braced for Cole's interception. When nothing happened, I glanced over my shoulder.

"Go ahead," he muttered, jerking his chin toward the alley. "It's over now."

That was all the permission I needed. I sprinted headlong into the darkness, splashing through puddles until my legs gave out and I fell to my knees. "Wallace..." The icy water soaked into my jeans as I knelt before him, panting in the bitter air. "Hey, are you—"

"T-Told you...to go." His sharp words were muffled as he ground his face against the slick, broken pavement, heaving his shoulders. "Go!"

"No!" The refusal was a reflex, a childish sob that caught in my throat. I lowered my voice and tried to sound calm. "Do you need anything?"

He looked up, eyes radiating a startling blue as he pushed himself into a sitting position. Slow breaths worked through his chest as he studied me, rubbing at his eye. "No." His brows drew together, and he wiped at his nose with the back of his sleeve. "Thanks."

Something tightened around my arm in response, like a phantom blood pressure cuff that'd been placed too high. Was twenty-one too young to have a heart attack?

Before I could consider it, frustration poured to the forefront of my mind. Gratitude followed right after, warring with humiliation. I wanted refuge. I wanted peace. I wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

_Wait._

My eyes grew wide as I watched him, recognizing the familiar, but foreign surge of emotion. "Can you project your feelings at someone?"

"No," he replied in a flat, lifeless voice as he tried to catch his breath. Resignation weighted his posture as he sat there, no longer adamant about pushing me away.

And just like that, the pressure stopped.

_Well, there went that idea._ "Do you want me to drive you back?"

"No, I'm fine." He scrubbed a hand down his face, and I caught a glimpse of something dark twisting down around his eye. "Give me a minute."

"Take as long as you need," I said, fighting the urge to pull him into a hug. The situation was uncomfortable enough, without my ovaries kicking in.

A few minutes passed before he pushed himself to his feet with a heavy sigh. "Let's just go."

A bone-chilling gust swept past as I got up. If his sweatshirt were anything more than a wet blanket at this point, I would've given it back. It wasn't, so I pulled it close.

"Cole," he called, walking toward the sidewalk. "We'll finish this elsewhere." He cast a quick glance in my direction and added, "Somewhere warm."

Cole pushed off of the wall and nodded. "Let's just go home. It's close enough, and you can't take her back like that, anyway."

He gestured toward me, and I felt my lip protrude in offense.

Sure, my neck was bandaged, my wrists were cut, and I was probably going to die of hypothermia, but that didn't mean I was a complete wreck. _AssCole._

"Fine." Wallace reached into his sweatshirt pocket without looking, his fingers brushing my pelvic bone as he fished the keys out. "We'll follow you."

"Hey, I'm not a hostage anymore." I frowned. "Don't I get a say in this?"

"No," both men answered in unison.

_Twins._

Thankfully, the trip wasn't long, and I got to ride with Wallace. Within fifteen minutes, we were home—wherever _home_ was.

"Wait. What about my car?" I asked as we got out in front of a cozy, white one-story.

Cole had already caught up with us, despite having parked a ways down the street. "I'll take care of it."

"What does that mean?" I lifted my brows. "We can't just leave it there."

He rolled his eyes and pulled a phone out of his pocket. The same one he'd used to taunt his brother hours before. "I'll have him bring it over in the morning. No big deal."

"In the morning?" I repeated, my voice lifting into a shrill whisper. "You mean we have to stay here?" Wallace had said on the way over that we were stopping at his grandma's to discuss things, but he never said anything about spending the night.

"What happened to your car?" Wallace cut in, eyeing me as we walked up the porch steps.

"Tire blew out. Your brother came to change it, and then he led me to his friend's garage—you know, the scene of the crime." I glanced back at Cole, who had lagged behind to make a call. "Now I have to buy a new tire."

The porch light flicked on.

"I said I'll take care of it," Cole snapped and shook his head, pressing the phone to one ear. "I'll get the tire."

"Oh." That was oddly generous, given his track record for the night. "Thanks."

He nodded and looked down, plugging his other ear. "Hey, Jeremy. Can you bring that Sentra over to Grandma's in the morning?" He blinked a few times and waited. "Yeah, I'll get you the money Tuesday night at poker." There was a pause as he listened. "Okay. Later."

I watched him tuck the phone away. "How does he know where your grandmother lives?"

"He lives down the street," he explained. "The three of us went to school together."

"Oh."

The door creaked open before anyone could knock, and an elderly woman pushed the screen open. "Boys! I thought I heard someone out here."

_Oh crap._ I hadn't prepared for this part. Meeting a friend's grandmother was awkward enough, without showing up on her doorstep in the middle of the night. I ducked my head down, pretending to study the green outdoor carpet.

"And who's this pretty girl?" she asked. "Does someone have something to tell me?"

Wallace caught the door, and I felt my cheeks grow warm. "She's my friend, Grandma. I actually have a favor to ask you, if that's all right."

She squinted out at us, and her eyes widened. "Good heavens! You're all soaking wet. Get in here before you catch a cold." She disappeared, and a light flicked on behind her, casting a long rectangle onto the porch.

Cole gestured for me to go ahead while his brother held the door open. _Great._ Not only was I imposing on the old woman, now I had to make a mud puddle on her floor.

I stepped inside and moved over, making room. To my relief, the floors were hardwood, and the entryway was covered with a mat. I took my boots off, and then edged away from the wet spot.

The other two trudged in behind me and when the door slammed shut, the house shuddered. We stood in what I assumed to be the living room, beside a floral print couch that faced the television. The place smelled like roses and coffee and...a hint of Estee Lauder.

"Look at you kids," she said, clicking her tongue. Though she had the telltale hunch of osteoporosis, she stood a few inches taller than me—and her fluffed white curls added another two on top of that. "We're going to have to get those clothes in the dryer."

I straightened. "Um..."

Wallace kicked his boots off and moved to present me. "Grandma, this is Rena Collins. Rena, this is Clara Blake."

Clara's weathered face pinched with wrinkles and laugh lines. "Why, hello there!"

"N-Nice to meet you." I plastered on a smile and reached out my hand. Who on earth could threaten this woman's life? She was practically a Golden Girl.

She latched on, closing her other hand around mine. "You too, dear. I tell you, they never bring friends around anymore. It gets pretty lonesome in this house all by myself, day after day." Her blue eyes twinkled as she pulled her lips back even further. "Please, make yourself at home. I can lend you something while we get your clothes dry."

"Oh, uh..." I looked up at Wallace for help, unsure of what to say.

"Actually, I was wondering if we could stay," he began, rubbing at the back of his neck. "There are a few things we need to discuss."

"Well, honey, I already figured you would. Why don't you boys run along and change now?" She marched toward the hallway, beckoning me over her shoulder. "Just follow Grandma Clara, Rena. We'll get you all set up."

"Yes, ma'am." I cast a panicked look over my shoulder as I scampered to catch up with her. The night kept getting weirder and weirder.

And I had a feeling it was far from over.

#  CHAPTER 25

"It _does_ look lovely on you!" Clara clasped her hands together as I emerged from the bathroom.

The flowing white nightgown brushed my hips as I padded across the carpet. She'd said the thing had been tucked away for forty years, and I believed her. Between the dated neckline and the soft lace trim, I felt like I'd stepped straight out of the silver screen. Or at least, Goodwill. "Thanks."

"Don't think a thing of it," she said, easing herself down onto the edge of the bed. "Do you feel better?"

I did. I'd showered and changed my neck dressing before slipping into the nightgown. She'd had everything laid out for me, like a perfect hostess. "Yes, ma'am."

"Enough with the ma'am business." She chortled, waving me off. "Call me Clara or Grandma."

I nodded, running my palms down the front of the smooth material. What was I supposed to do now? Was she waiting for me to explain what'd happened earlier? I didn't know where to begin.

"I spoke with Wallace while you were in the shower," she said. "There's no need to feel nervous."

I froze. She knew about the threat, and she was still this calm? "I'm not nerv—"

Clara tapped her head with a knowing smile.

"Oh." I dropped my shoulders, the moment sweeping past on an exhale. Was I that transparent?

She lifted her brows, still waiting for something.

"What?"

Another second passed before it finally hit me. The gesture had referred to more than just women's intuition. She was _one of them_.

"Oh," I repeated, taking a step back. "So, you're...I didn't know which side he got his..." _Way to represent human intelligence, genius._

"Yes, I am a Dynari. Has my grandson told you of my abilities?"

I shook my head, too flustered to speak.

Her eyes creased in a thoughtful expression, and she patted the spot beside her. "Like Wallace, I am an empath, but my ability is more—shall we say—mature. I feel the present emotions of others, but I also sense the emotions they leave behind. That is my major gift."

The room swayed, and I sank down onto the bed. "Are there minor gifts?"

"Perceptive of you. Yes, there are minor, complementary gifts that accompany the major."

"I see," I said, trying to remain calm. Next thing, she'd probably tell me she was telepathic or something. I flashed my eyes in her direction, swallowing. _You can't hear me, can you?_

"I can't read your mind, if that's what you're thinking," she said. "I can only sense you're upset, and understandably so. You must feel as if your whole world has been turned upside down tonight."

She didn't know how right she was.

"Would you rather talk about something else?" She put a comforting hand on my shoulder, reminding me of my own grandmother—sans the penchant for bingo and wine coolers.

"No." I shook my head. "I'm already in this far. I want to understand it."

"Very well." She leaned back, bracing herself on her hands. "First, I should mention it's my theory that, in our family, traces of ability reoccur in every other generation. Sometimes it manifests as a minor gift, sometimes it's just a natural propensity, but it's always there in some amount."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Well, look at the boys. Wallace possesses a portion of my ability; he can sense the emotions of others. Nicholas, on the other hand, mirrors the rapid healing ability of my late sister, Faye."

"O-Oh, I'm sorry to hear about your sister," I stammered, lowering my voice. "I didn't know."

She met my gaze with unwavering understanding. "You couldn't have known, Rena. It was nearly forty-seven years ago." A sigh escaped her thin lips, and she glanced across the room. "She was working overseas on a humanitarian mission and...found herself in the crossfire of civil unrest. Things were different back then. We weren't informed until after she'd already been buried."

"I'm sorry," I repeated, unsure of what else to say. Her eyes were glossy with unshed tears, and I didn't want to provoke them to fall. "That's terrible."

After a moment, she patted my leg. "Having gifts doesn't make you immortal. Even with her healing ability, it must've been too much for her to bear. Freddy was just..." She shook her head. "No. It won't do us any good to pore over ancient memories. Do you have any questions for me?"

I thought about it for a moment, recalling what happened in the alley. "Have you ever known Wallace to project his feelings?"

She blinked as she considered the notion. "What do you mean? Did you sense him?"

Okay, now I felt stupid. "No. Well, I thought I did, but I probably just imagined it. You know, since I was trying to deal with all of the information and..." I ran a hand back through my hair, thankful I'd taken the time to dry it thoroughly. "Never mind."

"You know, I've never seen him so protective of another being," she mused, her placid expression unnerving. "And to think, he said you two have only been acquainted for a few weeks. Perhaps you're kindred spirits."

A burst of nervous laughter escaped my lips. "I don't know about that, Clara."

"Who are we to question the workings of fate?" she asked, her lips curving upward.

I couldn't help but smile back. The woman was relentless. "Maybe you're right."

"Then indulge me a little longer." She picked at a thread on her bedspread. "While I have you here, I want to thank you."

"Why?"

She leaned in, dropping her tone. "He's kept himself so distant since _that_ incident—never allowing himself to touch anyone, for fear of hurting them. He hasn't hugged me since he was a boy, and I am far from human, myself. I was worried he'd never find someone to confide in."

My face grew warm. "I, uh..."

_Wait._ She knew about Wallace killing the drunk?

"There's another thing I want to say while I'm at it," she continued. "I apologize for Nicholas' behavior. He's always been overly zealous in his pursuits. Try as I might, I can never shake enough sense into that boy."

My fingers instinctively found the bandage at my neck, tracing the gauzy patch. "It wasn't your fault."

"He knows better than that." She shook her head, looking surprisingly stern. "I didn't raise him to act this way."

"You can't blame yourself for what he does now. He's a grown man. He's making his own choices." I crossed my legs and looked around. "Besides, it's over now."

"Is it?" She pushed down on the mattress as she stood. "Well, then, I've kept you long enough. Why don't you go downstairs and keep Wallace company while I fix a little something to eat?"

"Are you sure you don't need help?" I sprang up as she went into the bathroom and gathered my wet clothes for the dryer. "I could—"

"Go on," she urged, nodding toward the hallway. "It's that second door on the right, as you're walking toward the living room."

I took a few steps and hesitated in the doorway. "Thanks, Clara. For everything..."

#  CHAPTER 26

"Wallace?" I called, looking both ways as I reached the bottom of the stairs. The basement was an open, studio space, offering mismatched furniture, faded sports posters, and very few signs of life. There were two desks off to the left, but no one occupying them.

I turned right, moving toward the beds along the far wall. They had to be here somewhere. "Guys?"

"Grabbed a quick shower," a muffled voice called.

I jumped back as a door creaked open. "What?"

Wallace appeared in the doorway, rubbing a towel over his head. He shot me a lopsided grin as he strode across the room. "Nice dress."

"It's a nightgown," I muttered, my eyes tracing his every move.

He seemed unfazed by the fact that he was standing in front of me, shirtless, rifling through a beat-up dresser. Taut cords of muscle flexed and shifted as he moved, definitive lines disappearing beneath the band of his pajama pants. "Uh huh."

My skin felt unbearably tight as I stood there, staring. He looked completely out of place—a man dwarfing an adolescent backdrop. I swallowed and shook my head. It was just Wallace. My friend. My—

"I know staying here makes things a little awkward," he said, misinterpreting my anxiety. "But it's just one night." He scrunched a t-shirt up his arms and jerked it over his head. "I'll figure something out tomorrow."

What was he saying? _Damn it._ How was I supposed to concentrate with that bump and grind music in my head? "It's fine," I lied, hoping to change the subject. "So, where's Cole?"

He chuckled under his breath, turning to toss his towel in the hamper. "Grandma has him cleaning the garage."

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah, she wasn't too happy with what happened." He gestured for me to have a seat. "She's the only person he'll listen to. I think that's why he moved out. So he didn't have to feel guilty about what he was doing."

I sat on the bed in the corner, crossing one leg over the other. "What was he doing?"

He blew out a sigh and plopped down on the other bed, facing me. "Uh..."

"I'm already in this far," I reminded him.

His expression tightened, and I noticed the broken skin around his left eye. It was still a little swollen from his bout in the alley, but I wasn't going to bring it up.

"I guess you could say he's become some kind of vigilante, taking the law into his own hands." He paused, leaning back on the bed. "Sometimes he goes out at night, looking to pick fights with drunks or thugs or whatever. He gets some kind of a high off it, like it's his duty to teach them a lesson."

"Wait." I leaned forward, my face serious. "Cole thinks he's Batman? Or maybe The Flash. Batflash?"

That got a grin out of him. "Yeah, he says he's doing the world a favor by using his speed to keep these guys down. He doesn't get that it's wrong."

"So, why doesn't someone say something to him?" I played with the lace at my hem. "Someone other than me, because I've already tried to tackle him once tonight."

"You tackled him?"

"Tried to," I corrected, holding up my scraped elbow as evidence. "Didn't go over well."

He put his face in his hands. "Do you have any concept of self-preservation at all?"

"Not really." I shrugged, crossing my legs the other way. "But go on."

"Well, to answer your question, I did say something." He looked up, tracing the scar along his jaw. "About a month ago, Cole talked me into going with him on one of his runs. I know I shouldn't have been curious about the whole thing, but I wanted to see what he'd been up to every night. It didn't even seem that bad until I started having flashbacks."

I sat perfectly still while I listened, afraid even the slightest movement would cause him to clam up.

His lips formed a thin line, and he hesitated a moment before going on with the story. "Cole was scaring the hell out of this car thief—taunting him, disappearing, throwing sucker punches out of nowhere—but I kept seeing Roman. The way his anger melted into terror at the last second. The helpless look in his eyes right before I connected. It was too much. I couldn't take it.

"I jumped in, threw Cole off the guy, and told him that was enough. He told me to stay out of it, so I threatened to turn him in if he didn't stop. That didn't go over well."

_Yeesh._

"He threw everything back in my face, saying I owed him." Wallace rubbed at his shoulder, rolling his arm back and forth. "And you know, maybe I do, but not like that."

"Yeah," I agreed.

"We got into a fight that ended in a stalemate, and we went our separate ways. When he started calling again, I figured he just wanted to finish what we started."

"And now you have to help because of _me_ ," I said in a grim tone, lowering my gaze to the floor.

"Hey..."

I heard the springs whine as he got up and crossed the distance between us. "I should've taken the threat seriously to begin with. Besides, he would've found a way with or without you. You know that, right?"

I didn't look up as the mattress shifted beside me.

"I'm serious," he added. "He would've found someone at random, and it would've ended a lot worse."

I jerked my chin back. "Excuse me?"

"Not everyone is as strong willed as you are." His voice softened as he braced himself behind me, leaning in. "That kind of situation would've broken most people."

"Well." I looked up, and my heart stopped beating. "I'm not most people."

His heady scent was all around me. It was like a spell had been cast, stilling my nerves, and entrancing my mind. I leaned closer still.

"I know." The husky tone of his voice sent a shiver down my spine, and I bit down on my lip.

He lifted his hand to tuck an unruly strand behind my ear, but hesitated at the last moment. I could practically feel the heat from his fingertips, less than a caress away from my cheek; it was enough to push me over the edge.

"It's okay," I whispered, sliding my hand over his.

Everything faded away as he watched me, eyes darkening. "No."

I pressed my cheek against his hand, forcing him to touch me. "Please." The word lingered between us and brought me to an aching realization.

Our friendship was about to change forever.

#  CHAPTER 27

"I can't," he said through gritted teeth.

I held his gaze as blood pounded in my ears, amplifying the erratic pulse of my heartbeat. "Why not?"

"You know why." He swallowed, pain bracketing his features. In one swift motion, he pushed himself to his feet and forced distance between us. "I _can't."_

The spell had been broken. Again.

I smoothed an imaginary wrinkle in my nightgown and drew a ragged breath. My breasts were tight, _too tight_ , burning with an ache I couldn't even begin to address. The whole thing was mortifying.

Not only had I practically begged to have my skull crushed, but I'd made myself sound sickeningly desperate in the process. _Ugh._ It was his fault for staring at me, all gentle and tortured-like. I just wanted the guy to feel normal for a moment. Was that so wrong?

I looked up from beneath the shield of my lashes. He didn't seem much better off than I was. Redness stained his cagey expression as he stared up at the tiny, ground level window. It had stopped raining again.

He cleared his throat. "I, uh, left something in the truck."

Like hell he did. He just wanted to get away from me—not that I could blame him. I'd made things awkward between us. That cool, low-key vibe we had going was ruined now. I opened my mouth to speak but something stopped me.

The tent in his pants.

My jaw dropped, and I looked away. "O-Okay, well, I...uh, I should go upstairs and help, anyway."

He made for the stairs, taking extra-long strides. "Sounds good." Not once did he slow, taking the steps two or three at a time.

When the door finally shut, I let out a deep breath and stood. _Well, this complicates things._

By the time I wandered into the kitchen, Clara was beaming. "Why, hello!"

"Hey," I greeted her, taking in the scent of frying grease. "Need any help?"

"Actually, I was just about to call for everyone." She opened up a cabinet and reached for three plates. "It's nothing fancy, but you kids need to eat."

I peeked at the stovetop. Mashed potatoes and gravy, green beans, and pan-fried chicken. A bead of drool formed at the corner of my mouth, and I hastily wiped it away. "It smells wonderful."

"Help yourself." She passed me a plate. "The boys will catch up."

I loved this woman.

No one had to tell me twice. I filled my plate and took a seat at the table, bowing my head in silent grace. "Thank you."

Her eyes were alight with amusement. "No trouble at all, dear." She set napkins and silverware on the table. "Can I get you something to drink? Tea, water, pop—"

"Water, please." I cut into my chicken with starved enthusiasm. It smelled _so_ good.

She set the glass down in front of me, before taking a seat to my left. "So..."

I stabbed at a piece, nearly whimpering as juice seeped out around the edges. Hunger took the forefront of my mind, and I brought the fork to my lips. _Dear, sweet, beautiful free meal._

"How'd it go downstairs?" she asked.

The chicken fell out of my mouth.

I coughed and brought a hand to my chest, dropping the fork to grab my water.

"Sorry..." I tilted the glass back and took a big swig, praying I hadn't blushed.

"Are you all right?" She couldn't stifle a grin.

How comforting. Didn't she care that I almost choked? No, I realized. That wasn't it.

I eyed her, setting the glass down. She knew. That sneaky, old woman knew. "Sorry," I muttered. "I guess it was still a little hot."

She folded her hands on the table. "Now, now...it's not as if I wanted to be made aware of such things. He _is_ my grandson after all."

I winced. "I'm not going to lie to you, Clara. That's awkward."

Cole, being no stranger to debauchery, swept in through the back door wearing a smirk. "What's awkward?"

"Nothing, sweetie." She waved him off. "Hurry up and get that chicken before it sticks."

He shrugged and set to work filling his plate.

This wasn't happening.

She threw me a quick wink while his back was turned. __ As if I hadn't had enough harrowing experiences tonight, now Wallace's grandmother was teasing me? My memoirs were going to be so messed up.

"Where's Wallace?" Cole plopped down beside me, his posture exuding a casualness he didn't deserve. _Seriously._ He'd held me hostage a few hours ago. Why were we overlooking that?

Clara waggled her eyebrows, and I jumped in, "He had to get something outside."

"Oh." Cole slouched, cutting into his chicken. Not even a second later, he perked up, turning to his grandmother. "Hey, can we have pancakes tomorrow?"

I wanted to slam my head on the table.

They started talking, and I stared down at my plate. Things were going to be weird now. What if I'd just imagined the Wallace thing? I knew Clara had caught on to the situation, but was she referring to him or me?

I picked up my fork and speared a few green beans. No, I hadn't imagined anything. He'd definitely been aroused. There was no hiding an erection of that magnitude. I squirmed and crossed my legs just thinking about it. _Screeeeeech!_

My fork scraped against the plate, and they both turned to stare at me. "Sorry..."

Clara cackled as the living room door swung open and Wallace trudged inside, looking less than happy. _Perfect timing._ He kicked his boots off and breezed through the kitchen. "Smells good," he commented, making a beeline for the counter.

"I'm sure you worked up an appetite." Clara smiled that sweet, grandmotherly smile, but I knew what was behind it. Pure elderly mischief. I wanted to crawl underneath the table.

After we cleared away the dishes, she approached me. "You can sleep in my bed, sweetie. I'll take the couch tonight."

"Oh, no, I couldn't impose like that," I said. "The couch is fine, really." Like I was going to kick an old lady out of her bed. Who could sleep after that?

Cole, probably.

She clutched a hand to her chest. "I wouldn't think of having a guest sleep on the couch."

"She can sleep in my bed," Wallace interjected in a tired voice, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'll take the couch."

"You can't fit on the couch," I blurted out, remembering the night he'd spent in a desk chair.

"Is this the part where I'm supposed to offer my bed?" Cole asked, chuckling as he leaned against the wall. "How long is this dance going to go on? I gotta get up early."

Clara pressed her lips together. "That's very gracious of you, Nicholas. I always knew, deep down, you were a gentleman."

He quirked an eyebrow. "Wait. What?"

"I'll get you some blankets." She padded down the hall, toward what I assumed to be a linen closet. "Rena will sleep in your bed tonight."

Cole went off on a predictable tirade, and I tuned him out. I had other things to worry about, like why Wallace's shoulders had slumped at the news. Was it that much of an inconvenience to share a room with me? It wasn't like he had to sleep at his desk again.

I crossed my arms, more than a little homesick for my own bed. Speaking of which, had Gabby found my note yet? I needed to call her. She probably thought I'd been abducted or something.

Which wasn't too far off the mark.

Unfortunately, my phone was still on Clara's dresser, along with whatever else had been left inside the pockets of my wet jeans. I didn't want to barge back there, like I owned the place.

I nudged Wallace, still a little uncomfortable with his changed demeanor. "Hey, can I borrow your phone? Gabby might freak when I don't show up tonight."

"It broke earlier," he replied without bothering to look down. "Sorry."

"D'you break it after you got my text message?" Cole teased, flashing a wide grin.

Wallace shot a murderous look over his shoulder, and I cringed. I wanted to apologize for the remark, and I hadn't even been the one to say it.

"Boys," Clara scolded, draping a thick, yellow quilt over the couch. "That's enough."

When had I drifted into this weird, alternate universe? Better yet, when had I acclimated to it? I was about to ask about my phone, when something rubbed against my leg. "Gah!" I jumped back.

_"Reooooow!"_

Where the hell did the cat come from? And why did it sound broken?

"Brutus!" Clara threw a pillow on the couch and bent to scoop the pudgy feline into her arms. "You've been hiding from company, silly boy."

The gray mound of fur purred, nuzzling against her. _"Reeoow."_

I took a step back. Cats were possessive, spiteful, sneaky little creatures. It'd probably come to maim the outsider.

"Well, I guess this'll work." Cole walked over and collapsed onto the couch, stretching his legs over the end. "That bed was the only thing I left behind anyway. It's not like it's mine anymore."

"Thanks," I muttered on reflex, hating the fact that I'd acknowledged him at all.

"I believe your cell phone is still in my room, Rena." Clara held up the cat's paw, waving it at me.

I brightened, having forgotten about my phone during the cat-scare. "Oh, yeah, I'll get that now, if you don't mind."

"Go right on ahead, dear. I'm right behind you. It's way past this old woman's bedtime, anyway." She yawned and looked around, probably making sure everything was turned off. "Good night, boys."

"Night," they murmured in unison.

I started down the hall and glanced over my shoulder. Wallace had taken up the rear, headed toward the basement. That is, until Cole caught his arm.

"Just a moment, _brother_. I'd like to have a word."

#  CHAPTER 28

Gabby didn't answer until the fifth ring, right before it went to voicemail. "Hello?" __ She sounded out of breath.

"Hey," I said, shifting the phone against my shoulder. "I just wanted to say I'm not coming home tonight."

"Oh yeah?" She sounded more than a little preoccupied. "What'd you get into?"

"I, uh..." I searched for a neutral place to sit. All I needed was another awkward moment with Wallace. He was still upstairs, discussing God only knew what with Cole. Wouldn't waiting in bed seem like an invitation?

"I'm just spending the night at a friend's house," I explained, tugging at my nightgown in an effort to stay cool. "I wasn't feeling up to the long drive back tonight. That's all." Not a total lie.

"Uh huh." She giggled, distracted by a murmur in the background. "Well, I guess I'll let you go then."

Glad I hadn't counted on her to rescue me. "All right. See you tomorrow."

"Later!" she chirped and hung up. My best friend. My lifeline. Gone.

"Bleh." I ended the call and looked around for somewhere to stash my things. Sharing Wallace's space felt intrusive, like I was trying to Photoshop myself into his photos or something. Maybe I could just use the dresser.

I set everything on top and straightened the pile to obsessive perfection. _Phone, credit card, lip gloss, and driver's license. Check, check, and check. Now what?_

I retreated to the middle of the room, eyeing the staircase for any sign of his approach. What was I supposed to do when he came down, anyway? Apologize? Make plans for the morning? Compliment his Mario Lemieux poster?

"That poster is probably glued to the wall, it's been there so long." His voice carried around the corner as he trotted down the last few steps. I hadn't even heard the door close.

I turned to face him, raising my eyebrows. "Pens fan?"

"I guess. Not so much these days." He crossed the room and fell onto one of the beds. "Grandpa took us to a few games when we were kids."

"I caught a couple of Pittsburgh games before Columbus had a team," I admitted, giving the other bed a long stare. I didn't have the luxury of flopping down like he did. Not without risk of panty flashing. "Have you been to any Jackets games in town?"

"No, I can't really be out around that time." Lines creased his forehead, and he looked away. He must've been referring to the headaches. "Anyway, do you sleep with a light on or...?"

"No, I don't need anything," I lied. Actually, I wanted to sleep in the brightest room in the house, barricaded in the corner, but he didn't need to know that.

He rubbed at his jaw. "Well, I..." He got up and looked around with a tight expression. "I need to sleep with the TV on," he announced after a moment's deliberation, pointing a remote at the small set in the corner. "Will that bother you?"

I shook my head.

He pressed the power button and strode across the room to get the light. With the flick of a switch, everything plunged into darkness fought back by the TV's flickering glow. Flashes traced his outline as he returned to bed and pulled back the covers.

My lips curled into a smile as I turned away. _That liar._ I'd slept in his dorm room before, and he hadn't said anything about needing a TV on. He was trying to make me feel comfortable.

I crawled under the bedspread and pulled it up to my chin. The heat was sweltering, but I welcomed the barrier. It'd make this easier.

I turned to face him, shifting around until I got comfortable. "Hey..."

The light played over his muscular form as he rolled to the side and propped himself up on one arm. "What?"

"About earlier..." I nipped my bottom lip, wishing I'd planned out what I was going to say beforehand.

"Yeah, actually, I was going to say something to you about that," he began, clearing his throat. "It's not...uh, uncommon for someone to behave strangely after a traumatic event. You shouldn't feel embarrassed or anything."

"What?" I sat up a bit more. Why the hell would I feel embarrassed? I wasn't the one rocking a massive boner afterward.

He looked up toward the window. "I wasn't thinking. I should've realized I was just mirroring your arousal on some subconscious level. I let it go too far."

His words twisted like a blade between my ribs, releasing the insecurities I'd stored there. What was this? His way of trying to spare my feelings? Stupid, irrational tears stung my eyes.

"I think you read too much into it," I said in a shaky voice. "The only thing I felt for you was pity. Pity for you and your freakish inability to control yourself."

Another stab.

The room fell silent, aside from the incoherent hum of dialogue from the television.

"Oh."

My heart clenched, and I realized I might've taken things a bit too far. "I didn't mean—"

His voice was rough as he turned away from me, settling into bed. "Let's just go to sleep, Rena."

"Sorry," I whispered, sinking into the pillow. _Damn it._ The night couldn't get any worse.

But morning could.

I woke up drenched in sweat and gasping for air. It'd taken me forever to get to sleep and, once I finally did, I'd gone straight into a nightmarish recount of my capture. I clutched a hand to my chest, struggling to catch my breath. _Maybe I'm not as over it as I thought._

I squinted across the dimly lit room, jarred to find Wallace's stormy gaze staring back at me. He was sitting up, his shoulders hunched forward.

"Is that how it really happened?" he asked. His voice was so thick with sleep, it sounded scary.

I burrowed further beneath the covers. "What?"

"That...whatever that was." He slicked a hand over his unkempt hair, spiking it back. "I saw it."

My heart gave a jolt. "What do you mean, you saw it? You shared my nightmare?"

"I guess," he mumbled, pushing his bedspread back to kick his legs over the side. "First time it's ever happened."

"Oh."

The fog began to lift, and I remembered the last words we'd exchanged before bed. My stomach bottomed out. "Listen, I didn't—"

"Is that how it happened?" he repeated, standing up to stretch. He rubbed at his eyes and drew a deep breath through his nose, like he was trying to wake himself up for something. It was still early. What was he doing?

"Well, yeah, but what does that..." I trailed off as he made for the stairs, giving a stiff nod. "Hey, where are you going?"

"Don't worry about it."

He disappeared into the darkness, and I shot up, getting tangled in my own bedding.

"W-Wait!" I threw the comforter back against the bed. Something was wrong here.

I tore up the stairs and caught the door as it started to close. "Wallace," I hissed, peering around the corner just in time to see him grab Cole by the collar and lift him from a dead sleep.

Cole's eyes shot open, and he tried to pull away from his brother, but it was a wasted effort. His feet dangled a few inches off the ground as he flailed and grasped Wallace's wrist. "What the hell, man?" He sounded half coherent, struggling against him. "Get off me!"

"Did you let Rena go, when she begged you?" Wallace's jaw was set as he moved in front of the windows, casting their forms in silhouette. "I can't believe you. I didn't realize how far you had..." He shook his head and moved to the front door, twisting the knob with one hand. "You know what? Forget it. I can't sleep under the same roof as you tonight."

"What are you doing?" I stage whispered, inching forward as the door swung wide and he bumped the screen open.

"Go back downstairs, Rena." Wallace stepped out onto the porch, and my heart caught between beats. _Oh God._ What was he doing?

I slipped outside behind them, shutting the doors as quietly as possible. Clara didn't need to wake up to this mess, whatever it was. The poor woman had enough to deal with.

Cole shrugged and went lax, plastering on a smirk. "Hey, if this makes you feel better..."

"It does," Wallace growled, pulling him out onto the sidewalk.

I shivered as a cold gust of wind ripped through my nightgown, and I trotted after them in bare feet. _Ick._ Wet sidewalk. "What are you going to do?" I asked, trying not to venture too close. "Anyone could see you. You could be—"

"I don't care," he snapped.

I blinked, taken aback by his tone.

"Now who's the bad guy?" Cole's dark gaze lifted in satisfaction, illuminated by the moon. "What're you gonna do, _bro_?"

"Shut up!" Wallace threw him to the ground, and his skull met the concrete with a sickening crack.

"S-Shiiit..." Cole hissed, rolling over to clutch the back of his head. Crimson seeped between his fingers as he squeezed his eyes shut. "Have you lost your mind?"

My legs nearly gave out as little dots danced before my eyes. Was I dreaming?

Wallace stood over his twin's crumpled form. "She will not be involved in this. Ever. Again. Do you understand what I'm saying? So help me, next time..." He clenched and unclenched a fist at his side. "I can't even think about it."

"Stop!" I cried, latching onto his arm. Fear tore through my system as I smashed the hard curve of his arm against my chest, holding tight with everything I had. "You'll..." My eyes burned, and I looked down, pressing my forehead against him. I didn't want to say the words, _You'll kill him_. I didn't want to acknowledge that he was even capable of it—that he'd killed before.

I had to think of something. Fast.

#  CHAPTER 29

"No one wants to hurt Cole more than I do, but this is just wrong," I whispered against him, too scared to let go. "Please tell me this isn't the real you I'm seeing."

Wallace stiffened and, for a second, I was afraid I'd sent him off the deep end.

"It's not," he finally admitted, taking a deep breath. "Not anymore."

Cole sprang up into a sitting position. "Well, now that that's settled..."

Shock buckled my knees, and I clung to Wallace's unflinching form. "...The hell?"

"What?" Cole stood up, holding the back of his head with one hand. "Oh, this?" He rolled his eyes back, gesturing toward the injury. "Flesh wound. I'll live. Fast healer, remember?"

"But he...you...blood..." I stammered, staring at the slick red puddle on the ground.

"Oh, yeah, you're right." He pulled his hand away and glanced at it, shrugging. "I'll go grab some bleach." He started to walk away and then paused, turning back to Wallace. "Feel better?"

I looked up at Wallace as he took another breath, steeling his features. "Yeah."

Cole grinned, and his image faded into a blur.

I heaved a sigh, and my breasts pressed against Wallace's arm. "Shoot." I stumbled back to cover my chest. "Sorry."

"You were really prepared to stop me, weren't you?" he asked, unfazed.

I rubbed my arms as another wind swept past, tousling my hair. "Well, yeah, if I had to."

"Why?"

"I don't know." I batted a few strands away. "I didn't want you to do something you'd regret, because of me." I thought about it for a moment and added, "I guess I wasn't ready to see Cole die yet, either." _Unless it's by a truck or something..._

"I shouldn't have done that," he said quietly, staring at the ground. "I just couldn't get those images out of my head." His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, whispering the last part to himself, "I almost lost it."

I wrapped my arms around myself. "But you didn't."

"Yeah, what she said." Cole appeared with a jug and a bucket. "You're just a little overprotective of some things." His gaze landed on me, and he raised his eyebrows.

"Gee, thanks," I said. "How's your embarrassing head trauma?"

"I don't know. Look for me." Cole bent and tilted his head down, giving me a clear view.

I shrieked and held my hands up to block the sticky red mess in his hair. "That's disgusting!"

A porch light flipped on across the street, and my eyes widened. "Okay, as fun as this has been, I'm not sticking around to explain it to the police. You better clean your—"

"Already did." He set the bucket on the sidewalk and held up a stained, wet sponge. In his other hand, he shook the jug for emphasis. "Now, if you'll kindly escort your attack dog back to bed, I need to go run my head under the faucet. Some of us have to work in the morning."

I wrinkled my nose and shot a quick glance over my shoulder. Sure enough, the sidewalk lacked the rustic tint it'd held before. "Well, here's to hoping nobody lights up in front of the house," I muttered.

Cole grinned.

I hurried up the front steps and wiped my feet on the mat. If we weren't careful, we'd trigger the apocalypse, sharing pleasantries like that.

Wallace and I made our way back to the basement in silence. The crisis, abrupt as it'd been, was over. That meant there was only one thing left to do.

I stopped between our beds and turned to face him. "You okay now?"

"Yeah." He shook his head as he approached me. "I don't know what came over me."

"Well, he backed you into a corner, and you didn't have a chance to react before. You had a cluster, and we ended up here. It was just a delayed reaction."

"I should've controlled myself," he mumbled, shifting his weight. "I was just so..."

"I get it. Sometimes we do things we're not exactly proud of. We acknowledge those things. We ask for forgiveness. We make the extra effort not to do them again." I tucked my hair behind my ears. "Then we move on. That's how it works. So, stop torturing yourself."

He stared at me for a long moment. "Thank you."

"Hey, don't thank me. My first thought was to say you're only human, but you know..."

He laughed. "Yeah, that wouldn't have been as effective."

I took a deep breath and braced myself while the mood was still light. "Listen, Wallace..."

"What?"

"I didn't mean what I said earlier," I began, lowering my voice. "I know it's hard for you."

Dimples lined his grin as he tilted his head. "Well, if we're being honest, I kind of gathered that after I felt your anger hit me like a brick in the face."

_Damn it._ I'd forgotten he would pick up on that. "Yeah, well..."

"Actually," he muttered, crossing his arms. "I might've exaggerated what I said, too."

That caught my attention. "What?"

"I wasn't...it wasn't that I..." He looked up at the ceiling. "I wasn't feeling particularly empathic at the moment, okay?"

Shades of blue and silver flickered across his features, and my mouth pulled back into a grin. He was embarrassed. He was _really_ embarrassed.

"Well, this is awkward," I laughed, standing less than an arm's length away from him. "Can I ask you a serious question now?"

He looked down, raising an eyebrow. "Shoot."

"Why can't you touch me? I mean, you caught me in the hall, and you carried me across the quad. As you can see, I survived. So, why is it such a big deal now?" The words spilled from my lips as I finally let myself think about it. "And why do you worry about accidentally hurting people, anyway? You never seem to damage anything else. The house is still standing."

"Ah, well..." He edged around me and sat on his bed, eyes distant and contrite. "I've practiced all of this day-to-day stuff, and I know how much pressure to use. I don't even think about it anymore." He shook his head at the thought. "But you should've seen me when I was younger. I destroyed everything in sight. We had to shop at thrift stores to keep up."

I had to stifle a snicker, picturing Wallace like Little Bamm-Bamm from _The_ _Flintstones_. "Well, it's not like it was your fault."

"I guess not, but that's hard to understand as a kid, you know? I felt like this little disaster magnet."

"Little?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, come on. I was your size..." A slow-spreading grin lit his features. "When I was nine."

I huffed and sat down beside him, giving his arm a shove that didn't budge him an inch. "Funny. Now stop stalling."

"It's hard to explain," he admitted. "Interacting with people makes me lose focus. I can't concentrate, and I worry about what'll happen."

I felt my face fall as the implications of his words sank in. "You're still carrying that guilt around, aren't you?"

He nodded. He didn't have to ask what I was referring to. We both knew Roman's death haunted him on multiple levels.

"Wallace, I understand that. I do. But you can't go through your entire life without touching anyone. What are you going to do when you have a family of your own?" I leaned in, looking up at him. "You've just closed yourself off from everyone. It's no wonder you don't know how to—"

"I won't have a family of my own," he said tersely. "I'll never endanger someone like that."

_So stubborn..._

"Look, if I haven't given up on you, you're not allowed to give up on yourself. I think you can get past this."

"I don't deserve to—"

"You are not a freakin' monster!" I yelled in frustration, balling my fists. My blood had spiked to its boiling point, and I knew he could feel it.

His eyes widened and he leaned back, gaping at my reaction. "Rena..."

"Last night, you said you wouldn't give me a reason to run away—well, I'm not giving you one, either! You're not a monster, and you don't deserve to live like this. It's bad enough you have to deal with the damn headaches every day. This." I grabbed his hand and held it up. "This should be something you can get past. I know it's going to be hard, but," I paused, finding little humor in what I was to say next, "you're strong."

#  CHAPTER 30

It was late—early, even—but I felt like we were onto something. If physical contact caused him that much discomfort, he'd gone without it too long. No wonder he couldn't gauge how much pressure to use. When was the last time he'd let himself get close to someone, let alone a human?

Wallace stared at our hands together for a moment, shaking his head. "It's not that simple."

"It can be," I countered, pressing his palm to my thigh. "You just need to start slow. You know, baby steps..."

"Look, I get what you're trying to do, but this isn't going to—"

"It'll be fine," I reassured him, feeling more tired by the minute. "Just try."

"How do you know?" His gaze bored into mine, searching, almost pleading. "How can you be so sure?"

I frowned. "Do you want to hurt me?"

"Of course not."

"Then think about that." I slipped my hand in his before he could protest. "Let's try a handshake. We did it once before. Remember? It lasted all of two seconds."

"Rena," he warned.

I squeezed until my knuckles lost their color. "Come on. You're giving me a complex."

"I really don't wa—"

"Please," I added, pouting my bottom lip. It was an underhanded, feminine tactic, but I needed the advantage here. "I want to try this."

"You're insane," he grumbled, slipping into deep concentration mode as he grasped my hand. "There. Happy?"

"Mhm!" I forced my lips back into a smile. The pain wasn't devastating—kind of like when you're getting your blood pressure taken. There's always that one, brief second when you're convinced the cuff is malfunctioning, and it's going to do you in Boa constrictor style.

"You okay?" he asked in a skeptical tone.

"Totally," I lied, projecting the happiest mojo I could muster. My thoughts drifted to puppies, tater tots, and...shoving Cole into traffic.

A spark of hope ignited in his eyes, and the corner of his mouth lifted. "Really?"

"Yes." I grinned back despite the pain. _Either my bones are about to snap or...gah!_

He ripped his hand from mine and drew his brows together. "Don't do that."

"What?"

"Don't tell me everything's fine and then panic about it." He started to reach for my hand and hesitated. "Did I hurt you?"

I tucked my hand behind my back before he could see the marks he'd left behind. "I'm fine. Give me a little credit here."

"Let me see it."

"No."

"Then we'll do it this way," he muttered, reaching across me. With a flattened palm, he guided my arm toward the front as if I were nothing more than a rag doll. My hand fell to my lap, swollen and flaccid against the white satin.

I was about to speak, when I felt his fingertips ghost over the palm of my hand.

His brow strained as he studied the darkened area, barely touching me at all. The trails he left tingled with electricity, making my heart beat faster and faster.

"See?" I swallowed. "Fine."

The light danced across his features as he turned to me, eyes narrowed in scrutiny. "Are you?"

I knew I was in trouble the second I made eye contact. The connection sizzled through my veins like wildfire, heating every inch of my body. "No," I whispered, hating how breathless I sounded.

"Me neither."

The scent of rain enveloped my senses as he leaned in, his lips nearly brushing mine—but then he stopped. Frustration lined his mouth, and he turned away without a word of explanation; he didn't need one.

Without realizing it, I'd let myself become his burden, my every move a liability. No wonder he didn't know what to do with me. If I didn't stay quiet about all this...

My mouth fell open. _That_ was it. He was struggling, because he was forcing himself to act interested. He was trying to win my silence, through my trust.

"Rena?"

"It's an act, isn't it?" I asked, hearing the words with bittersweet detachment. "This whole thing between us."

His chin pulled back, taut with defense. "What are you talking about?"

"You don't have to pretend you're into me," I said, hardening my heart against his wounded blue eyes. "I won't tell anyone about you."

"You think this is about you keeping my secrets?" Irritation marred his expression as he leaned over me again, bracing himself on the bed. "You'll convince yourself of anything to find a reason to give up, won't you? You just don't want to admit you're afraid."

My back went rigid. "Excuse me? I'm _not_ afraid of you."

"Yes, you are," he shot back. "You're afraid of me and everything I've dragged you into. You're not in control anymore, Rena. You've lost that white-knuckled grip on the wheel."

"Oh, that's really nice." I seethed, fisting the sheets.

"Isn't it?" He worked his jaw. "You can't stand the fact that you can't fix me. I bet you wish you'd never tried to make me one of your charity cases."

"You're not a charity case," I spat. "Don't put words in my mouth."

Something dangerous flashed in his eyes, and he spoke with careful articulation, "Then don't put words in mine."

I could barely hear the TV over the hammering in my chest as we stared at each other, lost in a haze of aggression.

"You know what I think?" he finally asked, lowering his tone.

"What?"

"What you're really afraid of is getting close to me."

My jaw dropped. "That's ridiculous."

He leaned in, and I rocked back. "You think?"

I gave him a hard shot to the shoulder, narrowing my eyes. "Back off."

He didn't budge. "My point exactly." Vertical lines creased between his brows. "Every time we start to relate on some level, you push me away. The same thing happened outside of the dorm, during the fire alarm. You think you're the only one uncomfortable with this situation? Give me a break."

I didn't know what to say.

"Do you think I like endangering you?" he asked, charging ahead with the conversation. "Do you find me so callous that you can't believe I'd hate this situation? That it would make me sick? Someone hurt you because of me, Rena. Sometimes, I..." He gritted his teeth, never tearing his gaze from mine. "I wish we'd never met."

The anxiety refused to settle in my chest, stinging my eyes and charging the air around us. "Yeah? Well, same here."

A lie had never hurt me more.

Seconds ticked by, and his nostrils flared with barely restrained fury. "I can't do this."

"Do what?"

He ground the heel of his palm against his temple, squeezing his lids shut. "I've been struggling, praying to find the will to stay away from you, but I just can't do it. Now I'm getting mad at you, and I don't even know why." He clenched his jaw, and I couldn't tell who he was angrier with—me or himself. "Everything's so screwed up now. I just want you to be safe. I don't care what happens to me."

"What's screwed up?" I asked, trying to catch my breath. "What do you mean?"

"Just forget it. I shouldn't have said anything."

I deflated like someone had pulled my plug. "If it involves me, I think I deserve to know."

Some of the tension eased from his features as he opened his eyes to regard me, too tired to argue. "It's about Sunday night, okay?"

#  CHAPTER 31

Panic pricked my senses. "What about it?"

"Cole wouldn't tell me all of the details," Wallace said. "But he said I should be prepared to help take care of things."

"Take care of things? You don't mean...?" My throat went dry. _Oh God._ "You can't." I shook my head until blond strands fell forward, obscuring my vision. "No."

"I _have_ to," he said, his voice laced with quiet resignation. "I don't have a choice."

"There's always a choice," I insisted, and when he didn't respond, I spoke louder. "Did you hear me? There's always a choice. You just have to make the right one."

"And in the meantime, they'll kill my grandma!"

I blinked at the outburst. "So, you'll kill them first?"

He looked away. "No."

My stomach twisted into knots. There was no way I could let him give away his last shred of humanity. Not over something like this. "Listen..."

I had what was left of his attention.

"Why would someone be after her?" I asked, trying to walk through the situation. "Do you think it's one of those thugs Cole went after? Someone looking for ransom? Maybe we should call the police. I mean, if he's getting harassed—"

"It's one of us."

"What?"

"A Dynari—someone of my lineage. We're not dealing with an ordinary human here, Rena. It's dangerous."

I flinched despite my best efforts to appear unaffected by his words. _Because ordinary humans are such insignificant gnats that they couldn't possib—_

He must've sensed my turmoil, because he shook his head. "You," he muttered, tucking one finger beneath my chin, "are anything but ordinary."

I felt a rush in my cheeks as he held my gaze. "You're touching me."

"Baby steps," he reminded me, his lips tugging into an almost-grin.

_Damn it. Don't melt me now..._

"Okay, how about this?" I asked in an effort to distract myself. "If you're worried about Clara, why don't you just stay the rest of the weekend? Cole can scope out the meeting alone."

"It's not that simple."

I wrinkled my forehead, waiting to hear the rest.

"Grandma refuses to have either one of us 'underfoot' Sunday night," he explained. "She said if these people really wanted to kill her, they wouldn't have announced it as a threat. They need something from us and, if we don't show up, we'll never know how desperate they are to obtain it."

Who knew Clara was such a tough old broad?

His shoulders slumped. "I understand we need to learn what we're up against, but Cole is on this paranoid kick that we're going to get ambushed or something. And we have to leave Grandma behind. I just hate feeling...helpless."

I touched his arm, hesitant at first, and then let my fingertips trail up his sleeve. "Then maybe you should let someone help you."

His eyes sparked in the low light, and I felt smaller somehow, more vulnerable. "Is this the part where you push me away again?"

"No," I whispered. "I'm done pushing you away."

He leaned forward. "Good, because you're the only person alive who could."

I smiled at his attempt at a joke. "How about this? I won't push, if you don't."

"It's not the same thi—"

"Come on," I urged. "Isn't that fair?"

He thought about it, shook his head, and placed a chaste kiss on top of my head. "Goodnight, Rena."

I swallowed hard. "You didn't answer me."

"You got me," he said in a tired voice, moving aside. "I won't push, if you don't."

_Was he serious?_

"Then I guess this is goodnight." I stumbled over to my bed in a daze, unsure if I'd imagined the kiss or not. My heart was racing in my chest, like some stupid teenager with a crush. Of course, in my case, being crushed was a distinct possibility.

I shook my head and crawled beneath the covers. I needed sleep. Lots of it, if we were going to figure this thing out by Sunday night.

The next few hours, including a couple conscious ones, were nothing more than an exhaustion-ridden blur. Before I knew it, I was out on the sidewalk, filling my lungs with bitter, morning air. The sun had managed to escape the eastern horizon's oppressive hold, only to surface beneath a screen of dull, puttied clouds. Man, I knew what that felt like.

"Promise me you'll come back and visit sometime." Clara pulled me into a quick hug, the scent of syrup clinging to her apron. "Under better circumstances next time, okay?"

"Oh, uh"—I glanced over at Wallace before pulling away—"sure." It was a little strange hugging someone's grandmother, wearing clothes I'd been abducted in the day before. Talk about bad first impressions.

"And you," Clara turned her attention to Wallace, throwing her arms around his waist. "Come home more often."

He stood motionless while she expressed her doting affection. "I will."

The scene made my chest hurt. How long had she been waiting to feel her grandson's embrace? Would he ever be able to express his love for her? Hell, would he ever be able to express his love for anyone? He looked miserable.

Before I could speculate any further, something cracked me on the behind, and I gave a little yelp. _What the hell?_ A low whistle turned my head, and I saw Cole leaning against my car, dangling my keys with a smirk. "Gotta jet," he announced, tossing them in my direction. "I need to make it over to my apartment, before I head to the office."

I caught the lanyard with an awkward stretch, nearly missing the throw altogether. "Thanks." _Jerk._

"My pleasure." He crossed the sidewalk and winked at me. "Maybe we can do this again sometime."

My mouth twisted into a grimace, but I didn't say anything. He was provoking me, and I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of a response. I'd just grin. I'd grin like an idiot.

He didn't notice, brushing past me to wrap an arm around Clara. "And I'll see you Wednesday night for pot roast," he said, pulling her in for a hug. "Need me to bring anything?"

"Just your appetite, honey." She patted his face, eyes creasing with grandmotherly pride.

Wallace looked uncomfortable, shoving his hands down into his coat pockets. "Well, we better hit the road. Long drive ahead."

"Are you sure you can't stay a little longer?" she asked. "I could bake something for the road."

Wallace shook his head. "Thanks anyway, Grandma, but I'm sure Rena needs a little time to recover from everything. And I...well, you know."

My hopes for pie died on the sidewalk. There went my grin.

"Well, you two be careful," she said.

"We will." He met her gaze with an apologetic smile, backing toward the street. "Bye."

I took his cue and trotted to my car. "Thanks for having us!" I waved across the top, fiddling with my keys. To be honest, it hadn't been a totally unpleasant experience. Sure, it was a little unnerving at times, but Clara had been hospitable. I couldn't fault her for things out of her control.

"Here." Wallace flanked my side and took the keys from my grasp. He found the slot and gave them a slight twist, opening the door. "Do you want me in front or behind?"

My face turned a thousand shades of red as he handed the keys over, and I climbed inside. _Dirty mind, deactivate!_ "Y-You better lead. I don't know how to get to the interstate from here."

He nodded. "Okay, I'll make sure you can follow me."

"Better get a new phone this weekend." Cole's voice made me jump as he leaned over from the passenger seat, looking up at his brother. "I need you on call tomorrow."

"Get out!" I yelled, shoving him toward the door's opening. "How did you even get in here?"

He didn't bother dodging in such close proximity, bracing himself with one leg out the door. "Relax, Rena," he chuckled. "If you're going to be my sister, you're going to have to learn to deal with these things."

"Are you insane?" I asked him before turning back to Wallace. "Is he insane?"

Wallace rubbed at his temples. "Probably. Cole, get out of the car."

"You guys are so uptight today." Cole held his hands up in mock defense, angling out of the car. "All right, well, I'll be in touch one way or another. We have to—ow!"

Clara pulled Cole out by the ear, making him bend to stumble after her. "You do not just get into a young lady's car without asking."

"Sorry," he hissed, scrunching his face up.

"Not to me. To her." She used her strict voice as she pointed toward me.

I was afraid to laugh.

"Sorry," he ground out, jerking away as she released him. "Man..."

She shook her head. "I raised gentlemen, didn't I?"

"Yes, ma'am." He heaved a sigh, rubbing at his reddened ear.

"Good. Now you better hurry along." The warmth returned to her voice as she smiled, rubbing his back. "You don't want to be late, do you?"

Apparently, real estate didn't sleep in on Saturdays.

"Good point." Cole straightened, his typical smirk back in place. "Later!" His image blurred and stretched down the sidewalk. Of course, I was the only one gaping. The other two were used to the supernatural; hell, they were a part of it.

Satisfied with her part in the matter, Clara shut the door, wiped her hands on her apron, and waved. "Be safe, kids!"

I waved back and patted my jeans to make sure everything was good to go. I had a long drive ahead.

"Are you ready?"

"Huh?" I turned around and blinked up at Wallace. "Oh, yeah. Sorry." I pulled my legs in tight as he shut the door.

He raised a hand in acknowledgment and jogged back toward his truck.

I let out a deep breath. It felt good to be back in my own car, under my own power, having the freedom to do as I pleased. Everything seemed brighter, more colorful. Maybe I'd taken too many things for granted before.

A couple of hours later, we pulled in behind our dorm. It wasn't even noon yet, so the lot was sparse. Just like any other Saturday, most of our fellow Reid residents had yet to return from their Friday night exploits. We snagged two spots near the front.

As I got out and locked up, I couldn't help but notice an overwhelming sense of rightness in the air. The breeze felt cool as it whipped between buildings, mussing my hair. It was good to be home. This home, at least.

Wallace slowed his stride to match mine as we met on the sidewalk. "So, uh..." He had his hands shoved in his pockets again, probably to eliminate the possibility of interaction. Nothing like a little standoffish body language to protect the innocents. "Have you thought about what you're going to tell your friends?" he asked.

I groaned, hunching forward as we approached the side of the dorm. "I spent most of the trip trying to come up with a decent scenario. They're vultures, so it's got to be believable. Of course this"—I pointed to the bandage on my neck—"doesn't make it any easier."

"Or that," he said in a flat voice, nodding toward my hand.

I was quick to dismiss the slight discoloration from our breakthrough session. "It's nothing."

"It's everything," he muttered, looking away.

There would be no mention of the bruise from the warehouse. He didn't need to dwell on things like that. Not after we'd made so much progress. No, if anything, I needed to keep reinforcing the hurdles we'd already passed.

Swallowing my nerve, I reached over and tugged on his arm until I'd freed his hand.

He shot me a questioning look.

"Baby steps," I teased, lacing our fingers together.

His hand went rigid as we walked to the door. "Rena..."

I swiped my card and he opened the door, perfectly in sync as we breezed through the lobby. Neither of us said anything until we were in the hallway, waiting for the elevator. It wasn't exactly the kind of conversation to be had around random bystanders.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly, leaning against the wall.

"I'm fine." I squeezed his hand, struggling to downplay the lightheaded rush of ecstasy that followed. It was the truth. He wasn't hurting me in the slightest.

The numbers over the elevators glowed as the cars raced to the ground level. A second later, the middle doors chimed open, and we stepped aside so people could file out. Wallace caught the door and I slipped inside, avoiding the straggler in the corner.

"Oh my gosh, you guys!"

My head snapped up at the familiar tone. "Gabby?"

#  CHAPTER 32

Gabby's eyes bulged out, fixated on our intertwined hands. "What's this?" She gestured in disbelief, shaking her head from side to side. "Wait. Were you...did you guys spend the night together?"

Our hands darted apart like opposing magnets and I blinked, scrambling to reformat my story. "Hey," I said, plastering on a grin. "What's up?"

She reached over and jabbed the button for seven, disregarding whatever her previous plans had been. "This oughta be good. Let's get Aiden."

A bead of sweat dampened my brow and I scoffed, looking at her like she was crazy. "What do you mean? This?" I nodded toward Wallace with a quirked eyebrow. "What's wrong with us holding hands?" _Please, please act nonchalant._

He moved closer as the doors shut, probably waiting to follow my lead. Too bad I didn't have one.

"Are you guys...together?" she asked, still gaping.

"Are we together?" I snickered and glanced up at Wallace. "Did you hear that?"

"I heard it."

I rested my arm on the wall, trying to laugh it off like it was nothing. "Geez."

Gabby's eyes widened. "Oh my gosh. You are. You are, aren't you? That's why you're always defending him."

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline, and I reached around him, punching the button for four.

"You can go see Aiden," I said. "But I'm going to take a nap. I didn't get much sle..." I trailed off, realizing how bad it sounded.

A suggestive grin twisted her features as the doors opened with a loud ding. "Okay, we'll let you get caught up. I told Aiden we'd go to Sam's for lunch later, anyway." She leaned in. "Why don't you come too, Ace?"

Wallace faltered, throwing a questioning glance in my direction. "Okay?"

The poor guy didn't know what to do.

"Great!" She grabbed my arm, dove out into the hallway, and waved back at the closing doors. "Meet us in the quad at one."

I was in trouble.

I spent the first hour evading her questions by hiding in the bathroom. Sure, I'd wanted to shower, brush my teeth, and change my clothes, but I also needed time to sort my story out. If she found one crack, one hairline fracture, I'd be in for three months of interrogation.

After that, I attempted to ward against her curiosity by means of hibernation. I stretched out, face down on my bed, ignoring the fact that I'd just gotten myself clean and wrinkle free. Of course, that didn't deter her. She sat on the edge of the mattress, waiting to get the latest tidbit.

"Come on," she goaded, poking me in the side.

"I'm sleeping," I murmured, my voice muffled by the soft down.

She gave my shoulder a little shake and whined, "Ree..." The neckline of my shirt shifted, and I heard her gasp. _Crap._

Her fingertips brushed against the tape that held my bandage in place. "What happened to your neck?"

I slowed my breathing and made every effort to remain still. Maybe she'd think I was—

"I know you're not asleep yet," she growled, rolling me onto my side. "You've got me all worried now. Just tell me, and I'll leave you alone."

I groaned and stared up at the ceiling. "Fine."

She leaned in, appearing in my line of vision. "So?"

I opened my mouth to speak and she shrieked, covering her hands with her mouth.

"What?" I asked.

"Wallace is a vampire!"

"Are you kidding me?" I snapped, moving to sit up. "A vampire? I got cut trying to get into the car. I ran into something sharp." _Truth._ It just happened to be a needle that Cole was holding. And then a blade. "For Pete's sake..."

"Oh." Her shoulders slumped. "Well, there goes that theory. What about the rest of your weekend?"

"It's only Saturday. What's there to tell?" I hugged the pillow to my chest, giving a little shrug. "I had a few things to do in Columbus. I spent the night. I came back."

She narrowed her eyes. "What about the note and the late night phone call, huh?"

"It's called being considerate. You know, like when people let other people take naps."

Her dark gaze was calculating, like she was lining up my testimony and plotting three moves ahead. "You sure you didn't go see brother boy?" she asked, tilting her head. "'Cause I'm pretty sure Ace said he lives in Columbus."

Okay, I thought this might happen. _Just stick as close to the truth as possible, without giving away anything incriminating._ I took a deep breath and tried to appear sheepish, like I was embarrassed she'd caught on. "I guess you got me there."

"No shit?" She leaned forward, ready to pounce. "Does he look like Wallace? Is he hot? Where does he go to school? Does he have crazy headaches? Why are they fighting?"

Thankfully, I'd also anticipated this barrage of questions. "No, they're fraternal twins. Cole is a little shorter and a bit more compact in terms of muscle. He's got his hair buzzed short."

"Ooo! Dibs!" She clasped her hands together. "What else?"

I grinned. Maybe this was just the distraction I needed. "He doesn't have cluster headaches, and I think he's done with school. As for why they're fighting..." I paused, giving myself a second to line up my story—omitting things here and there. "Well, you know brothers. They got into it over winter break and were both too stubborn to apologize."

She rolled her eyes. "Men."

"Yeah," I agreed, luring her in. "So, Cole texted Wallace, and he met us somewhere in town. I don't really know where, because I wasn't driving. Do you believe I got a flat on the way there? Cole had to come save me."

"Too cute!"

"I know." _Gag._ "So, they duked it out, and by the time they were finished, it was really late. I was afraid to drive back on that donut, so we took my car to a garage and spent the night at their grandma's house. The end."

When I finished, I almost wanted to give _myself_ a high-five. I really hadn't lied at all. How on earth did that happen?

"Wait. You got to spend the night with two, gorgeous brothers? Girl, I might have to hate for a while." She fanned herself. "Please tell me you slept between them."

"Gabby!" I laughed, shaking my head. "I slept in Cole's bed, Cole slept on the couch, and Wallace slept in his own bed. Nothing happened. Geez." I paused for a second. "Oh, and in case you're wondering, they were raised by their grandparents. Their parents were killed by a drunk driver, so don't bring it up."

Her eyes rounded. "Aww..."

"I know."

"Okay," she said, leaning back on the other end of the bed like she'd just had a big meal. "I'm with you on all of that, but how on earth did you two end up with the P.D.A. in the hallway?"

_Good point._ "Okay, first off," I said. "Holding hands hardly qualifies as a public display of affection. Second, we were just having a little—I don't know—close moment. We'll never know what might've happened, because _someone_ interrupted it." I gave her a pointed stare as she sat up again.

"That's so flippin' sweet," she gushed and pointed so close my eyes crossed. "You guys would make beautiful babies."

"None of that!" I covered my ears and bent to bury my face in the comforter.

She threw her head back and cackled.

Things were back to normal. Or at least, they would be for the next hour or so. There were no guarantees beyond that. Not with Gabby involved.

#  CHAPTER 33

I slid into the booth first and squirmed when Wallace angled in beside me. The benches were far from spacious in Sam's Diner, and we were practically on top of each other. How was I supposed to act cool, pressed to his side like that?

"Welcome to Sam's." A thin girl with a shag of black and purple hair sidled up to the table, fiddling with the ties of her apron. "Can I get you started with some drinks?"

Aiden, Gabby, and I gave her blank stares while Wallace glanced around the table with evident confusion.

"You're new," I said, stating the obvious.

The girl rolled her eyes, her lips caught in half a sneer. "Yeah. The name's Lexie. How about those drinks?"

About that time, Sam brushed past en route to the kitchen. "Aw, c'mon, kiddo. These are my kids here." He clamped a hand on her shoulder and gestured around. "We got a water, a Diet Coke, and an ice tea comin'. I don't know about that guy there. He's sittin' a little close to my girl, lookin' a little suspicious. I might have to come back here and have a talk with him."

I wanted to smirk at the waitress, but I restrained myself.

"This is Wallace." Gabby gestured across the table, stepping in where I should have. _Oops._ "Wallace, this is Sam. He owns the diner."

"You have a nice place here," Wallace commented.

Sam wiped his hand on his apron and reached for a handshake. "I don't wanna see nothin' funny over here, okay? You treat these ladies with respect." He spared a quick glance at Aiden and shrugged. "And that one too."

Aiden cowered in his seat and gave a little nod. He'd been quiet since we met in the quad, and I was pretty sure it had something to do with his suitemate tagging along.

Wallace reached out and took Sam's hand in a quick shake, paler than he'd been a minute ago. "Yes, sir."

I patted his leg under the table.

Sam snorted. "'Yes, sir,' he says. Heh. I like this one. We might be okay back here, table one." Something crashed behind closed doors, and I heard him curse under his breath. "All right, you kids enjoy your meal. I gotta go deal with a buncha dumb-dumbs back here." He muttered to himself and went about his business, shaking his head in disgust.

"I'll get your drinks," Lexie said, letting out the breath she'd been holding while her boss was around. Without another word, she spun on her heel and walked away. _Miss Congeniality._

As soon as she was out of earshot, Gabby leaned forward and I grinned, ready to hear her rip into the new waitress. Sure, it was wrong, but at least the conversation would keep her occupied. No more talk of babies.

"I think she likes me," Gabby whispered, shooting a furtive glance across the diner. "Did you see the way she was looking at me?"

Aiden blinked. "She was looking at Wallace."

"What?" I spat, craning to catch another glimpse. "When?"

Wallace shot me a wicked grin and I faltered. _Ah, hell._ Mr. Empath had his wires crossed. To him, my little spike of protective outrage probably felt like jealousy. Well, it wasn't. She could stare at whomever she wanted, for all I cared. I just wanted my water. Where was that anyway? I sank down in my seat, crossing my arms.

"I'm sorry," Lexie spoke again, and I jumped. She crouched down beside Wallace with a timid smile. "I forgot to ask what you wanted."

"Oh, water's fine," he said, his rich timbre a little too reassuring.

She nodded, practically running to get his order. _Pathetic._

"Do you really think she was looking at you?" Gabby asked, looking a little miffed as she stared at him from across the table.

"I wouldn't know." Wallace shrugged, flipping a menu open.

"What do you mean you wou—"

"Where's Maverick?" I cut in, raising an eyebrow. "I figured he'd tag along."

Gabby scoffed. "He took off in a hurry this morning. Said he had somewhere to be."

"Is something up?" I asked. "I didn't see him in Social Policy Analysis on Thursday."

She threw her hands up in frustration. "Like I know. Boy's been actin' _weird_ lately." No wonder she was ready to pounce on new game. Conflict resolution wasn't her strong suit. At least, not in her own life. "I'm done with dick."

Somehow, I didn't believe that.

Our drinks arrived and, to my chagrin, Wallace was served first. The rest of our glasses were slid across the table with haphazard consideration. _Huh._ So it was true. Lexie the Waitress did have a thing for him. _Great._

"What can I get you?" she asked him, pencil poised and ready over a small tablet.

He smiled up at her inquiry, shutting the menu like the stupid gentleman that he was. "I think I'll go with the double cheeseburger."

"Fries?" she purred, brushing his hand as she took the menu.

He nodded, and I felt my temperature raise a few degrees. Seriously? Could she be any more obvious?

I leaned back and stiffened, realizing that Wallace was resting his arm on the back of the booth. _Awkward._ Should I move?

"And you?" she asked in a bland tone, giving me the stare down.

A slow-spreading smirk found its way to my face, and I realized I didn't have to move at all. No, I'd press even closer. How about that? "Turkey club, no tomato, side of fries. Thank you."

"Right." She turned her attention to Aiden. "You?"

"Um..." He pushed his glasses up on his nose. "Could I get the tomato soup with grilled cheese?"

"'Kay." She scribbled it down on her pad and turned to Gabby. "And what would you like?"

I couldn't even look at Wallace. I was probably emitting vibes like the green-eyed monster. "I'm protective of my friends," I whispered under my breath, knowing he could hear me.

"Of course," he replied, and I felt a tremor up his side. He was laughing at me. That jerk was laughing at me.

"What I want isn't on the menu." Gabby pressed her fingers into a shy steeple, peering up through her lashes.

"Try me." Lexie spun the pencil through her fingers.

Gabby hesitated for a moment and sighed, slumping forward. "I'll just have a salad with ranch and onion rings."

Lexie nodded, overlooking the strange display.

"Got it." Flashing a quick smile at Wallace, she turned and strutted away. "Back soon," she called over her shoulder, shaking her hips as she walked.

"Sure you didn't want to order _chicken_ , Gabby?" Aiden teased before she swatted his arm. "Ow!"

"I just wasn't feeling it, that's all," she grumbled.

"Yooooou still like Maverick," I sang out, giving her a taste of her own medicine. "That's cute. You guys should make babies."

Gabby pursed her lips and met my gaze with a fiery vengeance. "Yeah? Well, why don't you piss on Wallace before she comes back? We won't have to watch you mark your territory every two seconds."

Wallace, who had been taking a long swig of his water, choked and sputtered in a struggle to get it down. I thought his eyes were going to pop out of his head.

My face blazed, and I pulled away from him, plastering myself to the wall. "I don't know what you're talking about." _You stupid, skank-faced whore bag._

"Uh huh," she said.

"Girls," Aiden warned, used to mediating our catty squabbles. He reached inside his pocket and produced a small bottle of hand sanitizer. "Chill."

Gabby met my eye with a treaty shrug. "Sorry, I'm just...eh, forget it. You guys up for a quick trip to the mall after lunch?"

"Uh..." I stole a quick glance at Wallace, gauging his expression. He'd been so cramped in Gabby's Mini Cooper during the three minute drive to the diner, I didn't know how he'd fare twenty minutes to the mall. "Do you care? You could pick up a new phone while we're out."

He considered it for a moment. "That's fine."

"Good, then it's settled," Gabby proclaimed with a sly grin, closing the issue before anyone had a chance to dispute it.

Aiden puffed out his chest. "Nobody asked me."

She shot him a look. "What else would you be doing this afternoon? Homework? Huh uh."

_Great._ This trip had all the makings of a bad '80s movie.

#  CHAPTER 34

I could get used to hanging out in the mall again.

I'd spent a fair amount of time loitering in different shopping centers as a teenager, and the combined aroma of cinnamon rolls, hot pretzels, and shoe leather was oddly comforting to me. It was something I could count on, regardless of the city or time of day. Everything else in my life could spin chaotically out of control, and this one, stupid thing would still be the same.

"Hmm." Gabby hobbled around the store in four-inch heels, eyeing herself in the mirror.

Despite my reservations, we'd sent Aiden off with Wallace to find the Sprint kiosk. What they could possibly find to talk about, given their history of awkward exchanges, I didn't know. "Do you think Aiden is still afraid of Wallace?" I asked.

She rolled her jeans up, modeling the pair of red, strappy stilettos. "Not as much as he used to be. Do you like these?"

"It's hard to say in winter. Ask me again in four months."

"Helpful." She clicked her tongue and sat down on the stool to take them off. "Maybe I'll get a handbag, instead. I need _something_."

_Yeah, like an intervention._

"So, what are you spending to distract yourself from? The Maverick thing?"

Her expression hardened. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Are you serious?" I asked. "Do you feel okay?"

"Rena..."

I blinked. "Did something bad happen?"

She looked down at the shoebox, carefully unfolding the tissue paper. "I know we aren't officially together or anything, but I—never mind. It's stupid."

"What is?" I crouched down, helping her clean up the mess of boxes.

"I think he might be cheating on me," she said in one breath.

"What?" My voice jumped an octave, and a saleswoman peered around the rack to check on us. "What?" I repeated in a hushed tone, leaning in. "How do you know?"

"Well." She unstrapped the stilettos slowly, letting out a deep breath. "I might just be a little suspicious. I mean, I used to get upset when he asked about you all the time, but then—"

"Huh?"

She waved me off. "He just used to ask stuff about you. I got a little pissed, until I realized it was probably because, ya know, you guys have classes together."

"Oh, right. Definitely." _Aside from the fact that we rarely talk._

"But then, last night, he moaned someone else's name...Gail."

"Gail?" I cocked my head to the side. "Who's Gail?"

"I don't know." She took off one shoe and then the other, pressing them into the box at different angles. "She must be one important bitch if he felt the need to call out her name during sex."

I cringed. No wonder Gabby was acting weird. She felt betrayed by the first "relationship" she'd had since the last time she got burned. "Well, maybe it was an accident. Maybe she's just an ex or something."

"I don't know, but we had words about it." She put the lid on. "He got mad and took off. He hasn't been answering his phone since."

I took the box and set it on the floor, doing my best to comfort her without the aid of my associates Ben and Jerry. "I'm sure he just needed a little time to cool off. Don't worry. You guys will get this sorted out." I scratched my head and tried to think of something else to say. Something that didn't hang awkwardly in the air. "If not, screw it and move on."

"You're probably right," she admitted. "He's just got me all on edge today. I tried to put it in the back of my mind, but that's not happenin'."

"You know what that means." I stood up and pulled her to her feet. "More retail therapy."

She flashed me a grin and stuffed her feet back into boots. "Girl, lead the way."

Sixty bucks later, we met the guys near the Sprint kiosk. They were sitting on a bench, and Aiden was pointing at something in Wallace's hand.

"Hey," I called as they both looked up. "Did you find something?"

"Yeah, Aiden was just telling me all about my new phone." Wallace met my eye and mouthed, " _All_ about it."

I made no attempt to hide my grin. "Well, it's nice to see you suitemates getting along."

"I guess we were a little quick to write him off before." Aiden rubbed at the back of his head, a tinge of pink staining his freckled cheeks. "He's kinda cool to hang with. A bunch of girls came over and talked to us."

Gabby snorted, and I did my best to appear unaffected.

"Oh yeah?" I raised my eyebrows. "Either of you Casanovas score any digits?"

"You know it." Aiden fished around in his pocket. "Her name is Macy."

Gabby pushed between them and plopped down with her bundle of purchases. It was a tight squeeze. "Like the store?"

"Yes, like the store," Aiden mimicked, scrunching his nose. "But she's pretty, and we're going to hang out Wednesday night."

She looked skeptical and turned to Wallace. "Can you verify that, Ace?"

"He _did_ get her number."

"See?" Aiden held up a torn receipt with writing scrawled across it.

"What about you?" I shifted my weight, eyeing Wallace. "Get any numbers?"

"A few."

"Dozen," Aiden finished, a proud wingman in the making. "They came up with all kinds of excuses to talk to him."

I could've sworn I saw the slightest hint of a blush as Wallace looked away, shoving his new phone into his pocket. "Want my seat?"

"No, thanks." I looked around at the other stores, making sure there wasn't anything I needed before we left. When I tilted my head, I felt Aiden's eyes on me. "What?"

He gave a start and looked away with a guilty expression. "Nothing."

"What?" I repeated, tracing my fingers over the bandage on my neck. "This?"

"I-I wasn't staring or anything. I mean, I know what happened. Gabby told me about it while you were taking your nap."

Wallace bristled, straightening to rigid posture. I shot him a questioning look, and then it hit me. I'd forgotten to fill him in on our side of the story. He probably thought...

I felt the color drain from my face as I turned back to Aiden, projecting my voice in a hasty, mechanical recap. "You mean how I hurt myself getting into the car, blew a tire, and Wallace's brother had to come get me? Then Wallace showed up and they reconciled, so we ended up staying at their grandma's house? That's what you mean, right?"

Aiden blinked, staring at me as if I'd lost my mind. "Yeah."

"Cool." I forced a smile and turned to Wallace. "Right?"

"Yeah," he muttered with a tight expression, rising to his feet. "Ready to go?"

#  CHAPTER 35

The trip back to campus seemed like it took twice as long. Even stuck beside me, with his knees pressed against Aiden's seat, Wallace hadn't said a thing about last night. I thought he'd at least give _some_ indication of how he felt regarding the edited tale—but he didn't. We rode back in silence and parted on friendly, generic terms.

I hated it when he tried to internalize things. It didn't seem fair. He was allowed to know what I was feeling, but he couldn't return the favor?

Naturally, I spent the rest of the night distracting myself. Gabby and I ordered a pizza, and I buried myself with books. I finished all of my homework, took a practice quiz online, and started studying for next week's chapter test. On a Saturday night.

By the time I finished studying, the words were blurring on the page. I had to reread the same passage three or four times to grasp the meaning, and it just wasn't worth it, so I went to bed—overwhelmed, exhausted, and nursing too many unresolved feelings.

Feelings that bled into my dreams.

"No!" I jolted awake with a sharp intake of air and sat straight up in bed, tears streaming down my face.

A few words, an indiscreet slip of the tongue, and I'd revealed the Dynari to the world. Wallace had been tortured and killed before me, and in the end, I hadn't been able to tell him the one thing I needed to—the one thing I hadn't even told myself. He was everything I never dared to hope for in a man, and now it was too late.

I slammed my fist into the wall, gritting my teeth. "Daaamn it!" A sob broke through my cry as tiny lines of blood split my knuckles and stained the concrete.

"Whoa, whoa, girl." Gabby stumbled across the room in her pajamas, unkempt and horrified. "What's wrong? Did you have a nightmare?"

Trembling, I looked up, trying to hear her through the chaos in my mind. _A nightmare?_

A sudden pounding rattled the door hinges, like the whole thing was about to splinter and give way.

"Who the hell beats on someone's door at four thirty in the morning?" Gabby huffed.

I couldn't answer, possessed by an overwhelming desperation that'd taken hold of my body. Before I even realized what I was doing, I'd already thrown back the covers and bolted for the door.

"Rena?"

_Please, please, please..._ I didn't bother to check the peep hole, flinging the door wide open.

"A-Are you okay?" Wallace filled the doorway, leaning against the wall as he caught his breath.

I stood in his shadow for a moment in complete shock. "You're..." My tears ran anew as I threw my arms around his waist, hugging him harder than I'd ever claimed anyone in my life. His heartbeat pounded against my ear in a strong, powerful percussion, and my knees nearly gave out.

"I'm here," he murmured, the words reverberating through his bare chest as he ran his hand up my back. "Everything's fine."

I closed my eyes for a moment, letting myself come down from the hysteria. He was there. Real and in the flesh. Nothing had happened.

My breaths became deeper, evening out as I pulled away. Or, at least, I tried to.

"Sorry," he said, and dropped his hand to his side. Why he kept his other arm tucked behind his back, I didn't know, but it really didn't matter. There was enough to process, as it was.

I wiped at my eyes with the back of my arm, sniffling. "No, I just..." I shook my head in disbelief. My stomach was a churning mess of conflicting emotions. What was I supposed to say?

Something had changed between us. The tiniest crack had formed in the wall of my defenses, and I couldn't patch it up. The awareness was already there. As much as I wanted to deny it, it was there.

I did care about him.

If I were honest, that was probably a horrible underestimation of my feelings. My arm tightened again, and I ran a hand back through my hair. God, why did it have to be him?

Reluctantly, I raised my gaze upward, past the hard set of his mouth to the unnerving concern banked in his eyes. He was looking at me strangely. I didn't know how to place it.

"Can I talk to you?" he asked.

"Yeah, uh..." The weight of a third-party stare bore into my back, and I turned around. "Would you mind?"

"Oh!" Gabby was quick to recover, patting her hair down. "Y'know, I was just thinking about going upstairs." She scanned the room and grabbed a few things, tossing them into her overnight bag. "It's been a while since I graced the boys upstairs with my presence. Might as well have a slumber party." She gave an awkward laugh, hiking the bag up on her shoulder to edge around us.

The orange scrunchie she slid onto the doorknob did not go unnoticed.

"Take care of my girl, Ace," she called over her shoulder, bumping the suite door back with her hip. "I'm leavin' her to you."

"Thanks, Gabby," I whispered, moving to let Wallace step inside.

As soon as the door clicked shut, I drew a deep breath. Now what was I supposed to do? It was four thirty in the morning, and there was a half-naked man in my room. I wasn't equipped to deal with these types of situations.

There was no need to turn the lights on. Moonlight poured in through the window, flooding the room in a cool, otherworldly glow—a glow that felt eerily reminiscent of my nightmare.

_Our_ nightmare.

It was clear we were still sharing them. There hadn't been any need to explain the reasoning behind my actions; he'd already known. He must've watched himself die, too.

"So, have you noticed?" he began out of nowhere.

"Huh?" I jerked my head up. "Noticed what?"

"This." He held up his left arm, forcing it into the light from the window.

What was he talking abou—

My breath caught in my throat.

A complex band, maybe an inch wide, encircled his forearm below the elbow. It was dark, like you'd find on someone who'd had tribal ink done, but there was a bizarre sheen to it. It was like oil on water—a myriad of colors twisting over the surface.

"A tattoo?"

"No." He sucked in a deep breath and reached forward, hesitantly rolling up the short sleeve of my nightshirt. "The Mark of Nexus."

"What's that?" The soft cotton brushed against my skin, and I shivered in response, following his gaze. Colors raced over jagged lines in an iridescent film around my upper arm, glowing in an unearthly brand. I tried to clear my throat. "H-How?"

"I don't know. I never thought..." He shook his head, a grim smile playing at his lips. "I didn't think it was real."

I felt dizzy, staring at the band on my arm. It was different than his but strikingly similar. In fact—I darted my eyes between them—mine was the exact inverse of his, like a negative image. I rubbed at my arm, hoping to smear the thick black lines.

No such luck.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, averting his eyes.

"Why would you be sorry?"

He was quiet for a moment, collecting himself. "Don't freak out, okay?"

#  CHAPTER 36

I shifted my weight, trying to remain calm. "Okay."

"Grandma used to tell us all kinds of stories when we were kids. One of them was about markings revered as a sign of the rarest and most powerful of alliances—the Nexus." Wallace paused. "A bond between someone of my bloodline and someone...like __ you."

"Human?" I ventured, noting his obvious discomfort.

He didn't answer.

"So, whenever a human and a Dyn...Dyna...uh...?"

"Dynari."

"Yeah, that," I agreed, suppressing my nerves. "So, whenever those two joined forces, they'd wake up with ink, and that was supposed to mean something? And why is mine up here"—I pointed to my bicep, before gesturing to his forearm—"and yours down there?"

"Actually," he said, letting out an uneasy breath as he moved to stand beside me. "I think they're meant to line up."

Sure enough, the dark bands met at perfect height—as if they'd coiled between us. "Oh."

It was hard enough trying to absorb the fact that Wallace was some kind of supernatural being, now I had to believe he'd evoked something in me? The room started to tilt.

"I think we're missing something," he continued, taking a step back to look at me. "I mean, my parents and grandparents weren't bonded, and they represented the union between our kinds. What's different between us? We aren't even..." He trailed off.

It took every ounce of my self-control to keep my emotions stable. If I allowed the anxiety to surface, even for a moment, he'd notice. And then what? He'd feel guilty and try to distance himself again. That wouldn't help anything.

My brows knit as I thought it over. "Wait. Back the truck up. I thought people didn't even know about you guys. How could this mark be revered by anyone?"

"Revered among my people. No outsiders know or, to my knowledge, have ever known about our bloodline specifically. They've mistakenly tied us into different legends and folklores over the years, but they've never truly known of our existence. Only the humans we've taken as mates." He blew out a sigh. "Until now."

"Your people," I mumbled. "Why do you always act like we're so different? Whether you care to admit it or not, human blood pumps through your veins, too."

The question seemed to startle him. "Do you think I like being different? I'd gladly give all of these"—he clenched his fist—" _abilities_ back, to live a life like yours."

"Oh, yeah, because having superpowers must be so damn hard," I heard myself say, rolling my eyes. It was a reflex. I hadn't meant for it to come out, but it was the truth. "We should all be so unfortunate."

"Do you realize how good you have it?" His eyes sparked aglow in the darkness, and I knew I'd crossed the line. "I hurt everyone I touch, Rena. Do you still not get that? I'll never be able to show... _some woman_ I love her. I'll never be able to hold her and sleep with her at my side, because I'll be scared to death of crushing her. I'll never be a husband. I'll never be a father." He panted hard, his eyes boring into mine. "I didn't ask for this. Any of it."

I was paralyzed, overcome with his anger and frustration. The markings on my arm burned, and I realized what he was trying to say. He couldn't reject the hand he'd been dealt. His blessing had become his curse.

"Do you understand why I apologized now?" he asked in a softer voice. "I honestly didn't believe it could happen, but now that it has..." He pressed the heels of his palms against his temples as he began to pace in the dark. "We have to find a way to break it."

I crossed my arms over my chest. "How can I understand, when you still haven't told me what this Nexus thing means?"

He eyed me from across the room. "It means we're bound together. The closest form of intimacy two souls can share. It explains the dreams and why I'm so attuned to you over everyone else."

"And why it feels like you project your emotions at me sometimes," I added without thinking.

"What?"

"Remember?" I fidgeted, suddenly nervous that I'd imagined the whole thing. "When we were in the alley, I asked if you could project things. It was because I kept getting these little surges."

When he didn't answer right away, a flame caught my cheeks and I swallowed. "Never mind."

He took a curious step forward. "Can you tell what I'm feeling right now?"

I shook my head. "No, it's only when you're really worked up about something. Forget I said anything."

"Hey, don't get embarrassed," he said, lowering himself to the floor. "I believe you. I mean, it's a two-way street, right?"

"You know, I hate it when you do that," I grumbled, feeling naked under his perceptive stare. There was no hiding anything from this man. Not my emotions, my dreams, anything. Hey, that was a point. "Why don't I ever share your dreams?"

"How do you know some of them aren't mine?"

"Oh." I hadn't considered that.

Smoothing a hand down the front of my nightshirt, I sank down onto the floor, opposite of him. It hadn't registered earlier that I wasn't wearing pants, but I was hyperaware of it now. Though the oversized t-shirt stopped mid-thigh, it wouldn't stop me from exposing myself if I sat the wrong way. What color were my panties again?

Nervous butterflies flitted about my stomach as I tucked my legs back and pulled the soft, cottony material of the nightshirt over my knees. "So, we've got this soul sync going on. Is that it? I mean, why are you so adamant about finding a way to break it? Don't get me wrong, I'd love to get this tattoo off my arm, but it doesn't seem all that dangerous."

"It _is_ dangerous," he insisted, staring me down. "We can't go on like this forever; we'll get too attached."

My heart constricted in the tight grasp of rejection, and I forced myself to hold his gaze. "Would that be so bad?"

His lips pressed together in a harsh line. "Didn't you hear anything that I said? You don't have a future with me."

"And that's for you to decide?" I shot back, hurt by his immediate refusal.

"Yes, actually, it is." He crossed his arms over his chest in some kind of testosterone-driven sign of will.

I pursed my lips together as agitation swelled around my barrier. Was he serious with this macho, melodramatic shit? "You don't even want to consider the possibility of...anything?"

"That's what I said."

Okay, I'd begun to fume a little. It wasn't like I was nursing some kind of schoolgirl crush, and he'd hurt my feelings. He was keeping me at arm's length because he decided he knew what _I_ wanted. "I thought we agreed not to push each other away."

"I'm not pushing you away," he mumbled in a tired voice. "Look, I'm sorry if it hurts your feelings, but I don't want a relationship with you. Not like that."

_Ouch._ "Are you sure that's it?"

He gave a stiff nod. "Yeah."

A feeling of discord tightened my chest, and I narrowed my eyes. _Liar_. I was going to make him admit it.

"Is it because I'm so fragile that you feel compelled to protect me?" I leaned forward, resting my weight on my hands. "Or do you just not have any feelings for me?"

"Rena," he warned, clenching his jaw. "You know exactly what it is."

"Yeah? Well, maybe I don't agree with your logic."

His dark brows drew together in obvious frustration. "You don't have a choice."

That was the last thing I heard, before I snapped.

#  CHAPTER 37

I lunged, slamming into Wallace with my full body weight—not that I had much to work with. We tumbled back onto the floor, and he braced his arms at his sides. Just as I'd thought. The idiot had let me tackle him.

Hell, I'd known before I even moved that I didn't have the strength to overpower him. So, what did I have to my advantage? Oh, that's right. The fact that he refused to touch me.

I gripped his shoulders, straddling his bare chest as I leaned down. "I'm not as delicate as you think."

He chose to say nothing, staring up at me with guarded blue eyes.

"I'm an adult," I said, fixing him with a serious look. "I'm fully capable of making my own choices, and if I say that I don't mind staying with you, then that's my call. Not yours. Not anyone else's." I shook my head, my heart pounding in my chest. "You say that I push you away when you get too close? Give me a break. You're doing the same damn thing."

"Because you deserve more than this," he said through gritted teeth. "So, drop it."

"More than what?" I knew it was near five o'clock in the morning, and I was raising my voice, but I didn't care. "My best friend? The man I care about so much it freakin' scares me? Someone who's kind and considerate and patient and..." Angry tears burned my eyes, and I looked away. "Ugh! You just have no idea what you're talking about!"

The air sweltered between us as I gripped his shoulders even harder than before. Each of his panted breaths pulsed against the smooth skin of my inner thigh, and I felt my core tighten. _No. No more distractions..._

"So, what?" His voice was tight as he lay there, his face fighting a thousand emotions. "You want to be a martyr?"

"That's not fair," I growled. "You would sacrifice your happiness to protect me, but I can't sacrifice my supposed safety to make you happy? Where does that leave us?"

His grim smile was back in place as he humored my feeble efforts to keep him pinned. "Nowhere. You're not sacrificing your safety."

"And you're not sacrificing our future!" I clenched a fist, realizing for the first time that being with him was an inevitability I needed. Something I wanted. Something I would fight for.

"Our future?" he repeated slowly, pain bracketing his eyes.

Vulnerability knotted my stomach as I looked at him. "Yeah."

He closed his eyes for a moment, letting a deep sigh escape his lips. "It'll change you."

"What?"

"I can feel it," he murmured, and lifted his eyes to meet mine. "This bond between us will change you."

"T-That doesn't matter to me." I couldn't keep my voice from trembling.

"Rena." He breathed my name with such soft resignation, it made me ache. "Look, I don't know what's going to happen tomorrow. All I know is that I can't let you be a part of it. It's too dangerous. We need to find a way to break this tonight."

I stared at him in disbelief. "You think you're going to die."

He shrugged his shoulder, and I felt the muscles contract and move beneath my grasp.

"You're not going to die," I assured him, moving to meet his gaze. "Whatever happens, you're too str—"

"No one is too strong to die."

"Either way, you _won't_."

"Rena..." His apprehension loomed like a storm cloud on the horizon, an omen of things to come. "Please."

I leaned forward, my hands trembling as my tone hovered above a whisper. "I watched you die once. I won't do it again."

He wouldn't look at me. "Then maybe this is goodbye."

Tears spilled down my cheeks, and I collapsed onto his chest, burying my face in the crook of his neck. For the first time in my life, I didn't care what anyone thought of me. I was upset, damn it. Why couldn't he just think of himself for once? Or me.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—"

"Don't go," I pled against him, his stubble scratching my skin. "Make Cole go alone. We'll lay low for a while, let it pass."

He let out an exasperated sigh. "And trust him to take care of it? I can't do that."

"Then I'm coming with you."

"No." His voice strained, and I felt him tense beneath me. "You'll stay here."

"Make me," I muttered, trying to ignore the fact that my nightshirt had crept up over my backside.

"I will, if that's what it takes," he growled. There was a strange finality to his tone as he put a hand at my hip. "I'm serious."

"So am I." I didn't bother to look up, lying in his almost-embrace. "If you have no choice but to face this, I want to face it with you, Wallace." The confession felt like a blade, torn from the back of my throat. Needing him was something I'd never wanted to admit.

"Rena..."

Lying against him made me feel so small, so _feminine_ —a detail I hadn't anticipated in my daydreams. Did this sudden comfort have something to do with the bond, or had we simply reached that plateau of trust without either of us realizing it? I had a feeling I knew the answer, but I didn't want to acknowledge it.

Truth be told, there was probably something at work far beyond the reach of bonds and supernatural powers. What else could provoke such a stubborn conviction in me of all people? I'd developed some strong feelings for Wallace along the way, despite my better judgment. I had a feeling I was falling.

And he was untouchable.

My body lifted, ever so slightly, as his chest rose and fell in a deep, calming breath. The pressure at my hip intensified, but I didn't pay it any mind. I had yet to die from a bruise.

"You're the most stubborn person I've ever met," he muttered.

I raised my head, blinking back stale tears. "Are you serious? I'm lying here, trying to tell you that I don't give a shit about the consequences and all you can do is give a stupid, cryptic response?" My jaw clenched. "Do you even know how hard it is for me to admit these things? I'm in this, whether you want to accept it or not. I want this chance. I don't know why you don't."

"I do," he snapped, gripping my side. "I do, okay? Is that what you want to hear?"

"Yes! That's what I've been trying to—"

"That doesn't mean I can act on it," he interjected in a stern voice. "Do we need to keep having this argument over and over again? These things you want—I can't give them to you. I'm never going to be human, Rena. Why don't you get that?"

I slammed my fist on the floor. "I'm not asking you to be human. I'm asking you to be a _man_!"

Someone banged on the door, and I snapped my head up to glare through the darkness.

"Will you two shut up in there?" Cass bellowed through the door. "I can't sleep with all this muffled shit going on."

"Not now!" I yelled, my voice dripping with threat. If I heard one more knock or interruption, someone was going to get punched in the face. I was tired and cranky and not having any of it.

I heard a huff and a few footsteps, and then the sound of another door clicking shut. _Thank God._ I didn't know who I was more relieved for, her or me.

"I'm not a man?" Wallace's deep voice rumbled in a tone so dangerous, it turned my head.

"I wouldn't know," I retorted, tilting my chin. My feelings were hurt, and I was ready to inflict some damage of my own. "If anything, you're a hypocrite."

His eyes narrowed. "What?"

"How can you with one breath praise God and then with the next, scorn your own existence? Did you leave your faith in your church clothes or what?" A moment ticked by in silence, and I pushed myself up a little bit, staring down into his face. "You might as well be dead, Wallace, because you're terrified of living."

Something hard caught my arm, and the next thing I knew my back was slammed against the floor with Wallace straddling me. The breath caught in my lungs for a few seconds as I tried to grasp what had just happened.

He braced himself on his hands and knees, covering me in shadow. "Is that what you really think?"

I shivered, looking up at him as my heart pounded and struggled to find a way outside of my chest. "Yes."

Pain and fury flashed through his eyes, and he crumpled his brow. "That's not how I want you to see me."

"I know," I admitted, trying not to flinch at how menacing he looked without the passive, gentlemanly expression I'd come to expect.

"You're just so...ugh! I can't even think."

I frowned. "What are you going to do?"

He stared at me for a moment and let out sigh. "Something I'm going to regret."

What was that supposed to mean? "Regret wha—" My words disappeared, murmured against his lips.

#  CHAPTER 38

I was done thinking.

A lifetime's worth of intensity raced past in a dizzying blur as he kissed me, and I blindly threw my arms around his neck. I felt, more than heard, the moan reverberate through his chest as he pressed against me, melding his body to mine.

My lips parted in a gasp that he wasted no time taking advantage of. But when he slipped his tongue into my mouth, I met him with equal vigor. Wet and heated, fighting for dominance. I couldn't breathe. He tasted of wicked innocence—darkness and light. I didn't want to break for air. _Ever_.

Desire ached low in my stomach as I reached up, dragging my fingers through his hair. I needed to feel him against me in the worst way. It was the only thing my fragmented mind could process.

A low growl emanated from his throat as he blurred passion and frustration, bruising my lips. Everything fell away into the darkness.

My lungs burned, deprived of oxygen. _Damn it._ I pulled away, lightheaded and panting for air. It was all I could do to breathe as I looked up into his lust-filled gaze. His eyes were lowered at half-mast and brimming with desire. God, he was gorgeous.

I reclaimed his mouth, not bothering to let him catch his breath. My breasts were tight and sensitive, brushing against his chest as I clung to him. It wasn't enough. "Touch me," I rasped, tugging on his bottom lip

"Can't."

" _Can_."

"Rena," he warned, taking a staggering breath.

Heat pooled between my legs and I squirmed, digging my heels into the carpet. "Please..." I reached down and rubbed the hard swell of his pants, needing his reaction. _"Please."_

His eyes darkened, and he squeezed them shut for a second, swallowing hard. "Tell me...if I hurt you." He carefully moved my hand aside and rocked back on his knees with a serious expression.

"Okay," I agreed breathlessly, pushing the hair back from my face.

With painstakingly methodic movements, he started to slip his hand beneath the hem of my shirt, and I clenched in anticipation. "Okay," I repeated, grasping his forearm in encouragement.

"Anxious?"

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. With each second that ticked by, more sweat dampened my hairline. _Come on..._

His fingers tensed against my sides. "No."

"No?"

"I can't do it like this." He pulled his hand back.

"Wait. Like wha—"

"Is this a favorite?" he asked, fingering the material of my nightshirt.

"No," I managed. Seriously? What the hell did it matter?

Without another word, he grabbed my shirt and ripped it ragged down the middle. The cool air kissed my skin as he studied me with an appreciative look in his eyes. "Sorry, I just..."

"N-No, it's fine." Suddenly, I felt self-conscious lying there, more exposed to a man than I'd ever been before. Did he like what he saw, or was he just humoring me? With his looks, he could have...well, _anyone._ My cheeks burned. _Shit._ What had I started? And why wasn't I scared? I thought I'd be scared.

Still holding my gaze, he bent down and pressed his lips to my collarbone. "You're perfect," he muttered, trailing warm kisses between my breasts. "More than perfect. I hate how perfect you are."

I closed my eyes and savored the feeling. Not just the yearning, but the raw honesty of it all. A few words from him, and I'd been transformed. I wasn't an inexperienced junior, lying on the floor of her dorm room. I was a woman giving in to her most fundamental needs. Sensual, bare, and exposed—I felt beautiful.

He cupped my breast with a surprising gentleness, brushing his thumb over the tip. The soft, pink bud puckered at his touch, a little too eager for attention. I lay there, mesmerized, as he dipped his head down.

This wasn't happening.

It couldn't be.

He traced a tantalizingly slow circle with his tongue, and I clamped down on my inner walls. "Wallace..."

With a prowess I didn't recognize, he drew long and hard, sucking it into the sweltering fold of his mouth. My toes curled, and I raked my hand back through his hair, biting back a moan. I couldn't take it.

Tingles shot up my spine and tightened my stomach as he pulled away. _Whoa, whoa. Why stop?_ I squinted up at his silhouette and let my eyes adjust.

_Oh._

Wallace stared off to the side, relieved—almost proud of himself—but I could feel his growing concern. How long could he keep his hands to himself? This was new territory. What if he lost control?

Before either of us had a chance to dwell on it, he bent down and resumed my torment with renewed fervor. Any inclination of protest I might've had disappeared as he murmured praise against my skin. _Oh, that man._ Strength and empathy weren't his only powers tonight. He worked, and I writhed beneath him.

A few minutes passed, maybe more. My pounding heart had raced time and won, so there was no way of knowing. Finally, Wallace lifted his glowing gaze to mine, and I saw the change in his eyes.

I opened my mouth to speak, but it was all I could do to stare him down, drawing small, ragged breaths. Things were about to get out of hand. _Way_ out of hand. This...this would change things between us. There was no doubt about it. I should say something. I _had to_ say something.

Right?

His smoldering touch slid down, past my navel, to the soft, cottony band of my panties. Sucking in a reverent breath, he hesitated, fingertips barely hooked beneath the material.

I ached with desperation as he idled, bracing himself on my trembling thigh. "What?" My chest heaved, unrestrained as I met his worried gaze. "What's wrong?"

"We...we can't do this," he ground out, pressing his lips into a thin, bloodless line. The man was on edge. I could feel his restless energy caged in my chest, tortured and pacing—ready to explode.

My pulse hammered over the heater's bass hum and built in anxious crescendo. "Why not?"

"You know why."

"But..." I trailed off as the hazy clouds of ecstasy began to lift, letting the first wave of pain reach me. "Wallace, you're—" I couldn't finish the sentence.

How ridiculous was that? I couldn't tell him he was hurting me, because I knew it would hurt him even more. _Stupid, masochistic, lovey-dovey shit._ What was I thinking?

My leg throbbed beneath his possessive grip, and I made an instinctive grab for his hand as dots sprinkled my vision. _Ugh._

"What?" The pressure intensified as he quickly scanned the room, eyes narrowed in misplaced scrutiny. He didn't even realize he was—

"Ow," I hissed under my breath. I couldn't help it.

His eyes widened in sudden, horrified realization, and he ripped his hand away. "Sorry!"

I cringed and moved to sit up, almost overcome by the guilt he was feeling. "Hey, don't worry. I'll liv—"

"Are you hurt?" His rough voice cracked as he pulled back, looking me over. "Answer me."

"No." I reached forward, covering the big, swollen handprint as best I could. "It was just a little uncomfortable for a second, that's all."

The torment buried in his eyes resurfaced like an endless pool of regret, and he pushed himself into a sitting position. "I shouldn't have—"

"Wallace." I crawled toward him. "I'm fine."

"You don't look fine," he grumbled, and crossed his arms.

"I'm fine," I repeated, propping myself against him. We were running low on sleep, and the past hour had left me drained. "Thank you."

He quirked an eyebrow and peered down at me.

I felt my cheeks grow warm again as we sat there, bathed in the moon's surreal glow. "For being, you know..." _An animal. A gentleman._ "You."

His features softened for a moment, humored by my awkward gratitude. "What were you really going to say?"

I swallowed, very aware of the impressive hard-on he was still sporting. "Um..." I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. How could I say it? "Can I be honest with you?"

"You're hurt." He straightened, brows lowering in concern.

"What? N-No," I stammered. "What I meant to say was, well, I've never..." God, this was embarrassing. I was confirming all of his suspicions about my fragility. "Never mind."

"Hey." He carefully tilted my chin so our eyes met. "What is it?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing? Feels like something."

_Damn empaths._ "Feels like I'm going to kick you in the face if you don't stop bugging me about it."

"There she is," he said, chuckling.

_Ugh._ Didn't he realize that every time he gave me one of those lopsided grins, I let go of myself a little bit more? If I wasn't careful, he'd have my whole heart.

"We would've stopped," he said, interrupting my thoughts. "The timing wasn't right. Not yet, anyway."

Not yet? Did that mean...?

"I don't want to be a hypocrite, Rena." He paused, as if carefully choosing his next words. "You were right. I can't atone for the past, if I'm still living there. It's time I do something more than just exist from day to day."

"Like what?" I asked, leaning in.

"Well." He shook his head and laughed at himself under his breath. "I guess it's time to start taking chances, even if they mean regret."

"You said you were going to regret kissing me. Do you regret that?"

He met my gaze and grinned so hard his dimples showed. "Not even a little."

_Damn right._ "So, where does that leave us?" I didn't want to be pushy, but the man had a bad habit of speaking in riddles. I didn't want to risk another misunderstanding between us.

"How about...together?" He laughed again, and I felt a surge of nervous energy flood my system. _His energy_. Seriously? The man was hot beyond reason. Why would he be nervous around me, of all people?

Wait. Together? As in, t _ogether_ -together? I straightened. "What?"

"Rena," he groaned, rubbing at his shoulder. "Don't make this harder than it already is."

"Are you asking me out?"

"Well, yeah." He blew out a sigh. "If you still want to give the relationship thing a try."

Was he serious?

#  CHAPTER 39

I could've exploded into a spray of colorful confetti, but I settled for the biggest smile I could manage. "Well, we've already got these matching tats, so I don't see why not."

Wallace grinned and lifted an arm behind me but thought better of it. The humor slipped from his features, and his arm dropped to the floor without the slightest hint of an embrace.

"Huh uh," I teased, trying to salvage the moment. "You're not screwing me out of my hug." Shifting toward him, I got up on my knees and wrapped my arms around his neck. _Oh man._ He smelled good. If this kept up, we'd be down on the floor again.

Of course, he sat there like a freakin' statue.

"Come on," I prodded, leaning back to look him in the face. "At least make an effort."

He let out a slow breath. "Maybe we should establish some ground rules."

"Such as?"

"I don't know. It's not like I've had to worry about this before," he mumbled, looking down to rub the back of his head. "We just need to remember that being together doesn't change things. I'll have to be even more careful now tha—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," I blurted, ignoring the last part of his spiel. "You're telling me you've never had a girlfriend?"

"Are you serious? I would've killed a girl in high school."

_Comforting._ "Then you haven't...?"

"Right."

"Oh." If I weren't already sitting, my knees might've buckled with relief. "Good to know."

"Good to know," he mimicked in a high–pitched voice, flashing a grin. "Yeah, play it cool, Rena."

_Shoot._ I'd been focusing on his strength and completely forgot about his stupid empath powers, again. "We'll work up to the hug," I said, changing the subject.

"Uh huh." He got up and stretched. "We'll see."

"Where are you going?"

"I'll be back," he claimed, crossing the room. "I just need to take care of something."

I wanted to snort. I could see what he had to take care of; I was just surprised it was still necessary.

"You might want to put on a shirt before I get back," he threw over his shoulder, sauntering toward the bathroom door. "Just a thought."

My eyes shot wide as I looked down at my exposed breasts, framed by the ragged scraps of cotton that used to be my nightshirt. I threw my arms over my chest and hunched forward, feeling my cheeks burn all the way to my ears. "Shut up!"

He snickered and disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. How had I let a detail like that slip my mind, while we were talking? Damn thermostat, making it all toasty in here.

By the time he returned, I was lying in bed, fully clothed in striped pajama pants and a tank top. I was hoping the change in wardrobe would douse the temptation for me to do something stupid. Keyword— _hoping_.

He crossed the room with a sluggish yawn, rubbing at his stomach. So help me, as long as I live, I'll never get tired of seeing that man shirtless. How he stays so humble, I'll never know.

A smile creased his eyes as he plopped down on the edge of the mattress. We both bounced, and I propped myself up on my elbows. God, five thirty never looked better.

"I wish I knew what you were thinking about."

I blinked up at him. "Hm?"

"You're really content over there. I think I'm getting a contact high off of it."

"Do your superpowers ever sleep?" I asked, rolling my eyes.

"Only when I do." He leaned back against the wall, clearly amused. "Or at least, they used to before someone started keeping me up at night."

_Oops._ "My bad." _Did I really say that again?_

"So, I've been thinking," he began, looking up at the ceiling.

Man, I was tired. How did he have the capacity to think at this hour?

"You know my life story, but I don't know yours. I figure if we're going to do this, we might as well do it right."

"Well, what do you want to know?"

"I don't know. What's your family like?"

He wanted to know about my family? Voluntarily? "Well, my dad is retired from the military—he's a Wal-Mart greeter now—and my mom is a cremator." I felt a twinge of guilt as I spoke. Was it hard for him to hear about parents? "Uh, we have a big ol' Alaskan malamute named Wolfie. Oh, and you know about my brother, Drew. He lives down near Athens with his prissy-face girlfriend, Brittani-with-an-i."

"You don't like her?"

"She doesn't like me," I scoffed. "She thinks I'm a tomboy, and I need to grow up."

His lips twisted into an easy smile. "Are you?"

"Am I what? A tomboy?" Gee, there was a question I'd never heard before. "Just because I got kicked out of ballet and switched to gymnastics as a kid, doesn't mean I'm a tomboy. I was just a little more rough-and-tumble than the other girls, that's all." At least, that was what Mom told me. I fell back onto my pillow, crossing my arms.

"Well, that answers that question," he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "How long did gymnastics last?"

"I quit gymnastics before high school. It was cool, but I wasn't into the whole competition thing." That, and I wanted to quit before I ended up a flat-chested teen athlete. Sure, it sounded stupid now, but things like that were important back then. "My dad pushed me into self-defense, instead."

"Your dad's a smart man."

I smiled at his words. "Yeah, he's always been pretty adamant about stuff like that. He didn't like the thought of me leaving home unprepared. It wasn't so bad, though. I ended up liking it and moving on to martial arts classes up here."

He raised his eyebrows. "Should I be scared?"

"Oh, yeah. Totally." I flexed and scrunched up my face. "What about you? Anything you're into?"

"There's not a lot I _can_ do," he said with a shrug. "It's not like I can play sports or hold a regular job. Sometimes I tutor people."

_Tutoring?_ I sprang up. "Hey, I might need your help." Might. As in, I was going to fail my next exam if he didn't help me. As much as I tried, my doodles in the margins never earned me any extra credit with my professor. "I'm not great with math."

"I think we can arrange something." His lips twisted into a dorky grin. "Math, huh? What are you studying?"

"It's just a stupid gen-ed. requirement." That I'd put off. "I'm actually in Social Work."

"Oh yeah?"

"For now, at least. I mean, I want to help people—I just don't know if this is the way I want to do it." It was my turn to shrug my shoulders. "Everyone else is chasing their dreams. I guess I'm just waiting on mine."

"I can relate to that," he admitted.

"What? You didn't dream of being a CPA when you were little?" I asked, trying to mask my yawn.

"Not quite." He closed his eyes, and for a moment, I thought he'd gone to sleep leaning against the wall. "I guess I went the safe route."

The band on my arm tightened, and I tilted my head. "What do you mean?"

"I chose accounting because it doesn't require a lot of direct, physical contact with people."

_Ah._ I scooted closer and moved to lean against the wall beside him. The cool cement pressed tiny indentations into my shoulders, ones that would match the blood-dotted grooves my knuckles were sporting from earlier. "Well, what would you do if you didn't have to worry about it?"

He stayed quiet.

"Sorry." I leaned over, bumping his arm. "That was pretty insensitive."

"No, it's fine." His voice was getting rougher—I wasn't the only one fighting fatigue. "It's stupid, but I've always thought it would be cool to be an elementary school teacher."

I blinked. Once. Twice. "Really?"

"Yeah, my mom was a teacher," he explained. "It's always seemed like something with such a real impact, you know?"

"That's really sweet, Wallace."

"Yeah, well that's all it'll ever be," he muttered. "I can't believe it's going on six."

"We should get some sleep." I rubbed at the knot in my arm. "And this time, you're not sleeping sitting up in some chair. I'm not going to be responsible for you waking up all cramped and sore."

His lids lifted, revealing weary blue eyes. "It's probably time for me to head upstairs, anyway."

Something cold shot through my bloodstream, and I grabbed his hand. "Do you have to?"

"Have to what?"

"Leave?" I asked in a quiet voice.

His expression softened as he paused, his legs already thrown over the side. "You know I can't stay."

"I'm not asking to cuddle," I said, releasing him. "I'm just...not ready for you to go yet." _Oh, that didn't sound desperate at all._

He gave me a long, hard look.

"I don't think it would be a good idea." The rest of his reasoning went unspoken, lingering in the air between us.

"We don't have to touch. We can just lay here with our backs to each other. I mean, I would offer to sleep in Gabby's bed, but I'm afraid of the jizz stain on her comforter."

He grunted, almost giving into a snicker. "Did you just say jizz?"

"That's not important right now." I gave a weak smile and scooted to the end of the bed. "Look, you lie there and face the wall. I'll lie here and face this way. You won't have to worry about a thing."

The odds were in my favor. He looked too tired to argue.

"Fine," he muttered, stretching out onto his side. "But if you feel me move at all, I want you to jump out of bed and wake me up. I'm serious, Rena. You don't know what could happen."

"I get it, I get it." I plumped the pillow and turned away from him. "Relax."

Of course, now that he'd brought it up, it was all I could think about. I pressed my back against his, reveling in the warmth between us. What if he did have some kind of arm spasm in the middle of the night? If he killed that West guy with one blow, what could he do to me without thinking?

My body tensed as I slipped my arm under the pillow. It was almost funny. It seemed like, with each passing moment, I became more and more desensitized to the supernatural. Soon nothing would faze me at all. Except him.

Was I prepared to die over something so avoidable?

"Okay," Wallace groaned in a low, muffled voice. "This isn't going to work."

I sank down into the mattress, embarrassed.

"Sorry." How could I keep forgetting? There had to be some way to censor my emotions.

"It's not your fault." He carefully angled over top of me, straightening once he reached the floor. "You have every right to be scared."

"That wasn't it." I started to get up, but he shook his head.

"Stay there." He bent down and kissed my forehead. "I'll just be across the room." He ambled over to Gabby's bed and pushed the comforter back. "But I'm not sleeping on the stain. Sheets clean?"

"Yeah, she did laundry two nights ago." I watched him fall onto the mattress with a heavy sigh.

"Desperate times call for desperate measures," he mumbled, and tossed the pillow back on top of the comforter. "Goodnight." He folded his arms and laid his head down, eyeing me from across the room.

How had I kept my distance before this? It was all I could do to smile at him, at a loss for the eight feet between us. "Night."

#  CHAPTER 40

"What are you doing here?" a voice mumbled.

I struggled to open my eyes, feeling like an anchor had weighted me to the darkest depths of the ocean. Everything was murky and sounds were muddled, but I was distinctly aware of something happening.

"I was in the neighborhood," a second voice quipped, seemingly amused.

I knew that voice. I knew both of those voices.

"Don't start with me, Cole." Wallace sighed.

I cracked my eyes open and rubbed the blurriness away. Sure enough, both Blake brothers were engaged in some kind of stare down in the middle of my room. _What the...?_

I sat up as memories of last night rolled in like a morning fog. "What are you guys doing?"

Cole ignored me and eyed his brother. "It's time." All pretenses were dropped as he crossed his arms. "We need to go."

"You still haven't explained what you're doing _here_ ," Wallace reminded him through gritted teeth. "I thought we were going to meet somewhere."

I stood up and stretched, trying to ignore the ache in my thigh. The clock said it was past two in the afternoon, but it was hard to tell by the dismal sky outside. We were in for more rain.

Cole glanced at me out of the corner of his eye and did a double take. "Whoa..." He came over and bent, lifting my arm in inspection. "That shit is real?" He turned to Wallace, eyes wide. "Is that what I think it is? Show me yours."

"No."

I turned to look at Wallace. He'd showered and changed his clothes in the time I'd been asleep. Did he get any rest at all? I frowned until I realized Cole was still touching me.

"Enough." I moved to shove him and he blurred, reappearing near the door with a taunting grin.

"Feisty," he commented, straightening his clothes. "So, you're really bonded, huh? Wow. Who knew? And with Wallace of all people. That's rough."

Wallace took a menacing step toward his brother. "I'm not going to ask again."

Sick as it was, I couldn't help but shiver at his tone. The man had shown me how intense he could be last night, and the contrast kept me on edge. I wanted to see his guard down again.

"Easy," Cole coaxed, holding his hands up. "I'm just here to make sure you don't back out on me."

Wallace's thermal stretched as he crossed his arms, the black cotton hugging his shoulder blades. "Why would I back out on you, Cole? It's not like you haven't been forthcoming with details." A second ticked by, and he cocked his head to the side. "Oh, wait. You haven't."

"Gimme a break." Cole scratched the stubble on his chin. "It's compli—"

"You said someone called you and threatened to kill Grandma if we didn't show up," Wallace interrupted. "Why don't you start with what he sounded like? Or what he wants in return. Hey, better yet, how about why you let him get by with it?"

Cole let out an uncharacteristic sigh. "Okay, first off, it was a chick on the phone. She didn't say what she wanted, but she made it clear what would happen if we didn't show up. What was I supposed to say? It's not like I can watch Grandma twenty-four-seven. She wouldn't let me, anyway."

My brows pinched together. "But why would anyone wan—"

"I'm not done," he cut in, before I could finish my question. "I didn't tell you guys the rest, because you'd think I was nuts. But, whatever. You have to know everything."

Wallace rubbed his forehead. "Just spit it out already."

"I was getting there," Cole snapped. "Don't get your panties in a twist. What I was going to say is that I've been seeing shit ever since the chick called me—glowing red numbers counting down to tonight."

He closed his eyes for a few seconds. "Zero days, four hours, forty-six minutes, and seventeen seconds. Real comforting right? And when I go to sleep, I see all of this horrible, graphic shit happening to Grandma. I'm not even kidding. I am _this close_ to losing it."

I shuddered. That was creepy to consider, let alone believe. "Then why didn't you just explain that to Wallace in the church parking lot? It's not like you guys aren't familiar with weird, supernatural crap. He would've believed you."

"Oh, so now you know my brother better than I do?" Cole clicked his tongue. "I didn't have time to deal with his trust issues. When I saw the way he looked at you, I knew you'd make the perfect incentive for him to hear me out. Plus, get this—turns out you were great leverage, too."

_Cheeky bastard._

"So, where is this meeting supposed to go down?" Wallace cut in with a scowl. "It doesn't sound like you know."

"I didn't," Cole said, reaching into his jacket to produce a crumpled sheet of paper. "Until this morning. I woke up scribbling lines on this paper, like I was sleep-drawing or something." He turned it around, and we both stared.

It looked like a map. There were lines intersecting all over the place with scrawled names and numbers around them. An arrow snaked its way through the middle, pointing to a series of dots. There were sloppy notes in the margins.

"You did that?" I asked.

Cole turned his palms up, moving the paper as he shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. I was asleep."

"And you came here?" Wallace questioned, his eyes hard and unrecognizable. "If this woman is capable of getting inside your head, she's capable of locating you. You could've endangered everyone on this campus by luring her here."

Cole tilted his chin. "Well, would you have met me if I hadn't come to collect you in person? We have to be there by seven."

Seven? He expected Wallace to meet him in some secluded forest at night? "Uh, forgive me for bringing up the fact that you're a sadist," I cut in, "but how do we know you're not making this up?"

"Rena, I'm hurt." Cole wrinkled his brow. "I wouldn't—"

Wallace held up an arm in intervention, having already lost his patience. "Why do we have to find it by seven?"

"Look at the map. There's an 'X' marked CL." He held up the paper and pointed. "It's time stamped 1900 hrs. That's got to mean something."

"Initials?" I asked. "Or maybe C-L as in the beginning of Clara?"

Wallace's eyes widened. "Or initials using her maiden name. Lawrence."

Cole scrunched up his face. "Who would know that?"

"And who would be able to get inside your head?" I asked. "Have any relatives with freaky projection powers?"

Cole grunted. "We don't really know that much of our family on Dad's side. I mean, Grandma only had two siblings—a sister who died before we were born and a brother we see a few times a year for doctor's visits. Our great-grandfather lives with him, but he's the only other Dynari I know. The rest are spread out."

"Then I guess that leaves us no choice," Wallace said. "We'll have to find out for ourselves."

I sighed. "How far away is this place, anyway?"

Cole started to answer, but Wallace leaned past his ear to mutter a few incoherencies.

I cocked my head to the side as they both turned to stare at me. "What?"

"I need you to stay here," Wallace said, shifting his weight. "I'll call you tonight, if everything goes well."

My lips pulled back as a wave of nervous laughter threatened to escape. "Are you serious?"

Cole slipped past us, headed for Gabby's wardrobe.

"Wallace." I steeled my features. "We've already discussed this. I'm coming with you."

He gave me a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes and took my hand. "We didn't know all of the facts then. Can we sit down and talk about it, first?"

_Right. Talk about it. More like listen to a speech, I bet._

"What about Cole?" I asked as he led me to the bed.

Wallace shrugged and we both sat down, making the old mattress sag in the middle. "It's not like we have much of a choice."

Yeah, it wasn't like he was super strong and could throw his brother out into the hallway. "Okay."

He reached for my other arm and held my wrists oh-so-carefully with one hand. "Rena, I want you to know how much you mean to me..."

Was that his idea of an intimate gesture?

"And you know I'd do anything to protect you," Wallace continued as something blurred in my peripheral vision. "So, if this is what it takes, then so be it."

My blood pressure rose like heated mercury, and I flicked a glance between them. What? Were they going to tag-team me?

I tried to jerk my wrists back, but Wallace held tight with a pained expression. "I'm sorry, Rena, but this is for your own g—"

"You have got to be kidding me." A surge of panic ripped through my system as Cole walked over and tied Gabby's green silk scarf in a complicated knot around my wrists. I fought against Wallace's hold, but he wouldn't budge. "No way!"

"Relax, sis," Cole chided, as he crouched down to hold my struggling legs. "You're getting bound in front this time. The least you can do is hold still."

"Get bent," I hissed, turning to focus on Wallace. "And you, I thought we were in this together."

Wallace let go of my wrists, but he didn't say anything. He just kept that same stupid look on his face, like he'd rather be anywhere but here.

Cole's hands were like ice as he wove a second scarf around my ankles. "If it were up to me, I'd bring you along, but—"

I hit him.

Without thinking, I'd cupped my right fist with my left hand and clubbed Cole in the head—restrained wrists and all. The shock of contact raced up my bound arms as he grunted, clutching his head.

"What the fu—ugh! I just said I would've taken you."

"Cole," Wallace warned in a tight voice as he stood. "That's enough."

"She freakin' hit me!" Cole snapped, shifting his fiery gaze to mine. "I don't know if I'm pissed or impressed, but I would advise against doing it again."

Betrayal swelled in my chest and made it hard to breathe. I didn't care. I'd hit both of them, if I got the opportunity. How could Wallace do this to me, after everything we'd been through?

Cole brushed at his pants and stood, pulling away from my strike range. "Be a good girl and sit tight. I'm sure somebody will be along to find you sooner or later. You have a roommate, right?"

"You think this will stop me?" I asked, trying to find the balance to stand with my ankles bound.

"Rena, _please_." The words seemed to echo as Wallace bent to meet my eyes. "Please," he continued, softening his tone. "Stay here. For me. I can't fight with you there."

"You shouldn't have to fight." I stood up and wobbled, giving a little hop. "Like Clara said, if this woman had the power to really hurt you guys, wouldn't she have done it by now?"

He faltered for a second and shook his head. "We can't count on that."

"Then let me help. I'll—"

"You'll get in the way," he snapped, straightening to his full height. "Just stay here."

_Ouch._ The mark on my arm began to throb as he closed his eyes and drew a deep breath.

"Stay," he repeated, placing a quick kiss atop my head, before turning to cross the room. "I'll talk to you later."

My eyes widened as he opened the door. "Wait. Wallace!"

He stepped out into the common room with his brother close at his heels.

"Cole," I called next, desperation leaking into my voice.

Cole turned around and offered a small shrug. "Later."

I didn't make it in time. The door clicked __ shut, and I tripped in my last-ditch effort to reach it. "Ugh!" My body jarred the second it made contact with the floor, and I rolled over with a groan. That was it.

Someone was going to pay for this.

#  CHAPTER 41

Gabby cracked the door open and shielded her eyes. "Girl, you two better be dressed and de-stressed, 'cause I can't take those geekers any longer."

"Just get in here and shut the door," I hissed, still reeling from the incident.

She uncovered her eyes and blinked, looking around the room. "Kinky." Without breaking stride, she jerked the scrunchie off the door handle and slipped inside. "Where's Ace?"

"He had to go. Come get these off." I held up my wrists. " _Please_."

She tossed her stuff on the floor and knelt down, making quick work of my bindings. "Are these my scarves?" Her eyes widened. "What'd you two get up to last night? Oh my gosh. Don't tell me. You didn't..." She undid my wrists and stared into my eyes, trying to gauge my reaction. "You did, didn't you? You dirty, little—"

"We didn't," I corrected, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice. Time was ticking away, and I had a bad feeling about what was at stake.

"How far did you get?"

"Second base," I admitted. "...ish."

She shrieked and covered her mouth.

A grin tugged at my lips as I bent, freeing my ankles. Like any other red-blooded female, I found a sense of accomplishment buried within a little gossip—especially when it involved me and my new hunk of a boyfriend. I just didn't have time.

I handed her the scarf, and she gave my body an appraising sweep. "Sharpie?"

"Huh?"

She nodded toward my arm, and I froze. _Shit._

"Did he draw on you?" she asked, turning my arm to stare at the jagged lines. Thankfully, the colorful mirage had faded with the light of day. That was one less thing to explain, not that it made things any easier. "Is he an artist?"

"Actually..." _Crap._ What could I say? If I lied and said it was temporary, she'd know within a few days. "We, uh...got matching tattoos last night. This morning, really."

"Are you serious?" She dropped my arm, stunned. "My little bestie is growin' up and markin' her body for a hottie?"

I stood up, rubbing at my wrists. "Afraid so."

"Rena Elizabeth Collins!" She leapt to her feet, ready to hound me for details. "Where? When? Why?"

"You're forgetting 'who,' 'what,' and sometimes 'how.'"

"Shut up." She smacked my other arm and collapsed onto her unmade bed. "Now tell me all about it. I can't believe it's not red or anything."

"Me neither." I bit my lip and turned around, moving toward my dresser. "Guess I lucked out this time."

"And?"

"And we decided to try the whole _together_ thing, okay?"

"No shit? Wow. Were you guys drinking?"

"His parents were killed by a drunk driver, remember?" I sighed and dug through my clothes, snagging a tank top and a pair of jeans. "No drinking."

"So, what do they mean?"

I tossed some undergarments onto my pile.

"The tats? Well, I guess they're kinda like...promise rings." That sounded stupid. "You know, like, to keep us faithful to each other and who we want to be as people." _Worse. Stop talking._

"That's so sweet and...really out of character for you, girl." She leaned back and put her arms behind her head. "Maybe he's corrupting you."

"No doubt," I mumbled, headed for the shower. I needed some time to think. _Alone._ "How're Aiden and Josh doing?"

"Oh, oh!" She sat up again, too excited to say whatever it was lying down. "Get this. Aiden's date for Wednesday night? Tutoring session."

I paused by the door to the bathroom. "Aww. I was kinda excited for him."

" _Pfft_ , don't feel too bad for the guy. Those tutoring sessions can get pretty hot sometimes. Once, I made out with a rocker chick during a Spanish lesson."

"Why would _you_ take a Spanish lesson?"

A wicked grin lit her features. "Exactly."

My eyes rolled so far back in my head, I worried they'd get stuck.

"Like you can talk. Gettin' all kinky and tied up, without even goin' all the way." She waved me off. "I still can't believe he left you there."

My face grew warm. "We're...playing a game. You know, like hide-and-go-seek," I explained, wrenching the door open. "Joke's on him, because I'm going to shower first."

"You and Ace got some closet freak goin' on." She lay back, not even noticing someone had slept in her bed. "I think I like this side of you two."

"I'm thrilled," I said, shaking my head. "I'll be back."

But I didn't plan on sticking around.

After I finished getting ready, I left Gabby with the impression that I would be spending the night with Wallace—which was more or less true. I just didn't have any idea when, or even if, I'd be home.

My hug caught her off guard. I felt her stiffen as I pulled away, but there was no time to dwell on it. I squared my shoulders, took the elevator down to the lobby, and made for the parking lot. I was the rain-tinged breeze. I was momentum. I was strong.

Puddle water splashed my boots as I marched toward my car. Over the past hour, the Mark of Nexus had developed separation anxiety. My arm ached with loss every time I thought about Wallace, pulling my soul toward his. Its urgency bled into mine, and before I knew it, I was a woman on a mission. A real mission.

I would find Wallace Blake, whether he wanted to be found or not.

It wasn't that I didn't understand his reasons for leaving me behind. A little distance from the situation had cut through his act with embarrassing transparency. He was trying to shield me. Again. But the thing was, I never signed up for the Wallace Protection Program.

His intentions were sweet, noble even, but I couldn't stand the thought of being locked away in some tower. His problems were mine now. I wanted to be on the frontlines with him, staring down the barrel of whatever life had thrown our way. Didn't he get that? He didn't have to face things alone anymore.

If the situation were reversed, he wouldn't sit idly by, waiting for me to endanger myself. He'd come barreling in like he did at the warehouse, and God help whoever had come between us. So, why was it different for me? Was it because I was a girl? A human? The more I thought about it, the more it didn't matter. For once in my life, I was going to take a chance on something I believed in.

Us.

I unlocked my car and scanned the lot. No sign of Wallace's truck or Cole's SUV. Apparently, they didn't ride together. I got in and cranked the engine over—or, at least, I tried to. Nothing happened.

"Are you kidding me?" I turned the key again, missing the familiar rumble of power. "Not today," I murmured, and ran my hand over the dash in an attempt to soothe the car. "C'mon, Beast. I need you to work for me."

Another try. Nothing.

"Damn it!" I slammed my fist against the steering wheel and jerked the door open. "Why today, of all days?"

"Rena?" I got out and turned to find Aiden staring at me with a mix of horror and amusement etched into his freckled face.

"Oh, hey."

"Hey," he echoed, eyeing me as I gave the door a hard shove with my hip. "Car trouble?"

"It won't start." I glowered at the sky. Honestly, what had I done to piss off the universe this weekend? Could one thing go right? Just one?

"Looks like you picked up some new dents, too."

"Huh?"

"The hood."

I followed his gaze, and lo and behold, there were a few dents marring the silver finish. My feet moved of their own volition, carrying me to the front of the car. Those hadn't been there before. I would've noticed them. Though currently in my possession, The Beast was still bound to Drew in spirit. If anything happened to it, he'd have my head on a platter.

I ran my fingertips over the surface. "What the hell...?"

"What?" Aiden asked, starting to come closer.

"Nothing," I said in a rush. "Hey, do me a favor and pop the hood." At some point, there had to have been something pressed into the underside. There was a bump between every dip in the metal, and they were evenly placed. Had something snapped off while I was driving?

He gave me a puzzled look, but complied anyway. Seconds later, the hood sprang up, and I slid my fingers underneath. That was when it hit me.

The dents were a handprint—a big, stupid-ass handprint. I tightened my grip as I raised the hood. _Wallace..._

"See anything?"

I nearly jumped out of my skin when Aiden came around the side, inspecting the mess of boxes and wires and other things I didn't understand. "What?"

He cocked his head to the side. "I thought you were trying to figure out why your car won't start."

"Oh, yeah, that." I scanned what I assumed to be the engine and shrugged, slamming the hood back down. "No clue." _Aside from the missing battery_.

"Valiant effort, anyway."

"Yeah," I agreed, locking up. "You leaving?"

"Nah, just have to grab a book I left behind. Why? You need to go somewhere?"

His words triggered an idea, like a flash of lightning in the miserable, pewter sky. I would find my way to Wallace, one way or another. "Yeah, actually, I was about to leave town. You see, a... _friend_ of mine is about to lose someone close to him, and I don't think he'll be able to handle it on his own."

It was the truth. If I didn't get to wherever the hell Wallace was racing toward, he was going to lose what was left of his humanity. A gentle guy like him, in a situation where he might have to take another life? There was no way he'd recover from that. Not this time.

Aiden's mouth pulled down in sympathy. "Aww, man. That's awful. You know you're more than welcome to borrow my car, if you need to."

I crossed my arms over my stomach, trying to contain the guilt gnawing at my insides. Why did I feel bad when I wasn't even lying about the situation? Not technically. I tucked the useless keys into my jacket pocket and gave him a sheepish smile. It was something I'd have to worry about later. "You wouldn't mind?"

"Of course not," he said. "It's you." He gave me a crooked grin, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. "I trust you."

"And I appreciate it." Tears welled up in my eyes, filthy with shame and regret. I took a few steps forward and threw my arms around his neck. "You're a good friend, Aiden."

He stiffened and patted my back with a nervous chuckle. "It's just a car."

I laughed, wiping at my eyes as I pulled away. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"Just let me grab my book." He shook his head and made for the second row of the lot. Oblivious to everything, as usual.

I followed close behind, hating myself for what I was about to do. What could I say to soften the blow? "Hey, you should wear your green shirt for that date on Wednesday."

He turned around and quirked an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yeah, you look good in it."

"You know it's just a tutoring session, right?" He looked down and shuffled toward his Jetta. "I mean, I'm sure Gabby told you."

" _Pfft_." I dismissed his explanation with a wave of my hand. "When is a tutoring session ever _just_ a tutoring session? Anything could happen."

He snickered and threw a glance at me over his shoulder. "Now you sound like Gabby."

I cringed. "Oh, great. I better get out of town before she shows up to gloat."

We both laughed, and I did my best to ignore the weight sinking into my chest. What was I giving up to rush into some battle that wasn't even mine to fight? My steps slowed, and I stared at the cracks in the pavement beneath my feet. This wasn't a game. It was a matter of life and death, and there'd be no turning back after this.

Was it worth it?

"Got it," Aiden announced, and jogged past me, book in hand. "Be careful, okay?"

He tossed me the keys, and I nodded, forcing myself to smile. "Thanks."

That was it. All I could take. I turned away, letting everything I held dear and familiar fade into the background. This—standing at Wallace's side—was what I'd said I wanted.

It was time to prove it.

#  CHAPTER 42

"Where am I going?" I muttered, watching my knuckles turn white as I gripped the wheel. If I were Wallace, the damn thing would've cracked by now. Cold weather, my ass.

I'd been driving for hours, playing hot and cold with the Mark of Nexus, and it was starting to get to me. I'd already turned around twice, trying to follow its weak pulse. Now I was driving around the boonies, and for what? To save my knight in distress?

Maybe I was delusional.

Considering the fact that I'd freaked out and called home a while ago, it was likely. My family was one of the only aspects of my life left grounded in reality. Before I rushed into some supernatural battlefield, I'd needed to hear their voices again.

Of course, I'd kept it brief. The only thing I shared about my current situation was the fact that I'd met someone and was on my way to visit him. My mom was ecstatic—my dad, not so much. I didn't even consider telling Drew. When I called him, it went straight to voicemail. Thank God. I didn't have a story prepared, and the last thing I wanted was for him to get all huffy about my new boyfriend. I'd mentioned something about getting a new tire and hung up.

I glanced over my shoulder to check my blind spot and changed lanes. Was I getting closer? It felt like it, but there was no way to be sure. What if I ended up driving around in circles all nigh—

My phone blasted a song from the passenger seat. _Oh, great._ Drew had probably gotten my message. I sighed and reached over, snatching the phone to turn the speaker on. "Hello?"

"Whatever you're doing, I don't like it."

Wallace's voice hung in the air, and I dropped the phone in my lap. "I don't know what you're talking about."

_Oops, reflex lie._

"Rena, so help me, if you're following us..." he trailed off.

"You'll do what?" I countered, frowning at the road. "Tie me up again? Leave me somewhere? You know, for someone who knows what I'm feeling, you never seem to care."

There was a sigh on the other end of the line. "You know it's not like that."

"Do I?"

"Look, I know you're worried and frustrated and...hell-bent on getting here, but you've got to stop."

My spine cracked into alignment as I straightened in my seat. "Why? I thought we were in this together."

"We are, but this is out of your league. You know that. I've got enough to deal with tonight, without having to worry about you."

I pressed my lips together and took a drag of piña colada air freshener through my nose. Out of my league...right. "Wallace."

"Yeah?"

"You have no idea what I'm capable of."

The Jetta hummed in our silence, content to spend its evening on the interstate.

I flicked my brights off as I came up behind a van and swallowed the lump in my throat. "Anyway, I'm going to go now. I shouldn't talk while I'm driving."

"Re—"

"Don't worry." I punched the end button and tossed my phone at the passenger seat. "Worrying is _my_ job."

It rang again two seconds later, but I ignored it. He and Cole were going to need all the help they could get tonight and, aside from Clara, I was the only other person who knew about it. If showing up made him mad, he'd just have to get over it. I wasn't going back without him.

• • •

Streetlights cast wide, glowing circles on the pavement. I had no idea where I'd ended up, other than it was some state park in the middle of nowhere. I'd been in a trance-like state for the past hour, concentrating on the Nexus' pulse, and it'd led me straight to them.

Or their vehicles, at least. I spotted Wallace's F-150 and Cole's Grand Cherokee near the darkest edge of the lot. Unattended. That was a bad sign.

Without giving myself a chance to back down, I got out of the car and locked up. "Ready or not," I whispered, sucking in a mouthful of cold, winter air, "here I come."

The familiar words exhaled into vapor, and I couldn't help but realize how far Wallace and I had come in the past month. I'd gone from fearing everything he wasn't, to loving everything he was, in a matter of weeks. It was a beautiful one-eighty.

But despite that supposed love, I was still standing around the parking lot, trying to get my nerve up. Why couldn't I be as brave as I felt an hour ago? The clock was ticking. I could freak out later.

With hastened steps, I made for the shadows skirting the lot. Like other parks in the dead of winter, this place was deserted. There wasn't a soul to be seen or heard in any direction, only remnants of food wrappers left littering the ground. Another bad sign.

The trees were ghastly black silhouettes, reaching out from the forest. I could almost feel their pull as I edged around them, trying to squint for sight of something—anything—in the darkness.

_Where are they?_ I stepped off the pavement and onto the tough, winter-hardened grass. Determined or not, walking into the dark was unnerving. Everything shifted around, engulfing me as I abandoned the streetlights' safety. I could almost see the headline now: COED WANDERS INTO FOREST, NEVER TO BE SEEN AGAIN.

_Ugh._

My hands scraped over the bark as I felt my way through, straining to adjust to the filtered moonlight. It seemed like the deeper I went, the stronger nature's crisp, earthy aroma became. The scent stirred each time I tromped over a bed of decomposing leaves or brushed past a stubborn shrub. In a place like this, no one would ever hear me scream.

I blew on my hands for warmth as I maneuvered around a massive oak, my breath painting clouds in the nighttime air. It was colder than I'd thought it'd be when I set out without gloves earlier. Not that it mattered now.

My weary gaze settled on the horizon and the tiniest pinprick of light in the distance. _What is that?_ I crept toward it, weaving through trees, until I came across more—an uneven circle of torches set up in a clearing. _Weird..._

A lone figure stood off to the side, outlined in the darkness. I ventured closer, skulking in the shadows that laid just out of the light's reach. The figure had to be a man; it was way too big to be a woman.

I ducked behind the nearest tree and pressed my cheek against the coarse, scratchy grooves. Now what? The brand on my arm burned, pulsating with an alarm I didn't understand. Had I stumbled upon a bad guy before anyone else did? Maybe the woman's accomplice?

_This is bad._ I drew a shaky breath and peered around the massive trunk. Maybe I could just slink back into the—wait.

"Wallace?" I stepped out from behind the tree. "Oh, thank God." My legs carried me the short distance between us, and I nearly collapsed against him with relief. "I'm so glad it's you. Are you okay?"

He didn't answer.

My insides twisted as I looked up into his stony features. "Okay, look, I'm sorry about earlier, but"—I wrung my hands—"I was really worried about you. You can't just run off, whenever something comes up. If we're going to be together, you're going to have to have a little faith in me."

When he didn't respond, I ran my hand up his chest. "Are you really that mad?"

"Don't," he ground out. "Don't touch me."

I flinched and pulled my hand back. "What?"

"Get out of here." He tensed up, his eyes sparking a dangerous blue. "Now."

"Why?"

"Now!" he demanded.

"Why are you being like this?" I stumbled backward as he took a menacing step toward me, and then another. "I-I came all this way and—"

My back slammed against something hard. I eyed him as he grew larger in my line of vision, approaching with slow, measured strides.

"Rena," he warned, squeezing his eyes shut tight.

"What are y—"

No sooner had the words passed my lips than he twisted back, thrusting his fist overhead with a thunderous crack. I dove to the side on pure instinct, covering my face as a shower of splinters rained down.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I groaned and rolled to my side. Was he really that upset with me? I didn't know whether to be fascinated or horrified. My boyfriend had just punched through a tree. _A freakin' tree!_

He turned and fixed me with a stare so cold, it shot ice into my veins. "Please." There was a predatory grace to his movements as he stalked toward me, fist still clenched at his side.

_Was he serious?_ Conflicting instincts tore a rift inside me as I pushed myself to my feet, mouth agape with shock. This wasn't right. Angry or not, Wallace would never abuse his power to scare me. He wasn't like that. He—

Soft laughter interrupted my musings, and I jerked my head to the side.

There, only a few feet away, stood a tall woman with a mess of dark curls pinned atop her crown. "We thought you might show up." She peered over her glasses, pinning me with the beady-eyed scrutiny of a hawk. "You did not disappoint."

I glanced between them, confusion tugging my brows. "We?"

"Come, Wallace." She crooked her finger in a beckoning gesture, never looking away from me.

He lumbered over without a word of protest, obediently flanking her side.

My nostrils flared as I dropped my leg back into a readied stance. "What is this?"

Her lips twisted into a cruel smile, and I noticed a subtle glow ignite behind her lenses. "Isn't it obvious? A family reunion."

#  CHAPTER 43

The woman rubbed a possessive hand across Wallace's chest and splayed her fingers wide. "I'm his cousin, Gail."

He shuddered, but didn't protest.

"Don't," I warned, darting another look between them. Why didn't he say anything?

She raised a thin eyebrow and looked down her nose at me. "What?" Her nails dragged down the front of his shirt as she stared. "Does this bother you?"

I tightened my fist. "Where's Clara? And Cole. What did you do to them?"

"Pushy little thing, aren't you?" Her voice was painfully cordial. "Yes, it was I who summoned them."

"Yeah, I got that. Where are they?"

She pulled away from Wallace to place a hand at her hip. "Do you really think yourself in a position to ask such questions?"

I tilted my chin back as a familiar defiance began to boil in my blood. "Excuse me?"

"You're alone in the wilderness, standing before the heiress of a powerful bloodline—a bloodline, I might add, that your boyfriend and I share."

_Don't back down._ "So?"

Gail laughed and took a step forward. "So, what are you?"

My lips curled back at the implication. She expected me to be ashamed of my humanity. "Isn't it obvious? I'm...their backup."

Without giving myself another chance to change my mind, I shot my fist toward her temple in a stiff hook. If I could catch her off guard—

Wallace caught my wrist mid-motion, his grip so tight the bones shattered on impact.

_What the fu—ugh!_

Every nerve felt frozen, tingling with an ache so unnatural I couldn't think straight. There was no time to gasp, no time to scream, before I was thrown back—the scenery nothing more than a twisted blur around me. He...

I let out a cry when I landed, clutching my wrist as I tumbled and skidded across the uneven earth. Rocks jutted into my back and I rolled over, coughing to regain the breath knocked from my lungs. "...The hell?" I panted, glaring up at him.

My wrist was limp, swelling with inconceivable pain, and I couldn't even process what'd happened. He'd hurt me. Wallace had actually hurt me.

I wasn't sure what I was doing as I pushed myself to my feet, angry tears distorting my vision, but I knew I couldn't stay down. "You bastard," I grit out, stumbling toward him. "How could you?"

_Guilt, shame, and sorrow..._

_Anger, outrage, and fear..._

My brows knit in confusion until I realized where the foreign influx of emotion was pouring from—Wallace.

When I looked up, he met my gaze with the most tortured expression I'd ever seen. Tears spilled from his glowing orbs in silent protest as he stood there, tall and imposing amidst the fiery backdrop. "I..." He looked up at the sky, caged behind a canopy of twisted branches, and his chest heaved with labored breaths. "I..."

"Wallace," I whispered, daring a step closer. "Why?"

"Wallace." Gail's clipped voice rang over mine. "Restrain her."

_Shit._ My eyes flashed to hers, finally making the connection. She was manipulating him. This whole time, he'd been under her power. _That frizzy-haired, horse-faced bitch._ I was going to kill her.

The band around my arm tightened, and I darted a glance back at Wallace. No, as long as he was under her control, he'd be forced to intervene—so, what could I do? There was no time to think. I had to find a way around this. _Now_.

I chewed my bottom lip and did my best to ignore the gripping pain that radiated from my wrist. _C'mon, Rena. Think._ There had to be a chink in her armor somewhere.

She only looked a few years older than the guys. There was no way she had complete control over her abilities. In fact, if she were anything like Wallace, she probably had problems controlling them—especially when unable to focus.

I stiffened.

That was it.

"Okay, okay..." I edged away from Wallace, circling the two. "I won't try that again, but can I ask you something?"

"What?"

"Why did you think I would show up? You said you had a feeling. Was it like a premonition? I mean, you tricked Cole into bringing Wallace here. Obviously, your powers are beyond my understanding." _C'mon. Take the bait..._

She straightened her posture and crossed her arms over her chest. "If you must know, it was a vision."

"A vision?" I tried to watch Wallace out of the corner of my eye. "Like a dream?"

"Something like that, yes."

I eyed her expectantly.

"What?" she snapped.

"I want to hear more about it. It's not like I have superpowers." _Geesh_. How much ass-kissing was this going to take?

Gail paused. "You mean to tell me you're human?"

"That's what it says on my birth certificate." Okay, it didn't mention that, per se, but my distraction was gaining steam.

She gave me the eye, like I was holding out on her. "Entirely human?"

Uh, wouldn't the alternative be a Dynari? It wasn't like I showed up at her family barbeques and levitated two-liters for laughs. "Yes. One hundred percent, boring, powerless human."

Her brows pinched as she studied me over the rims of her glasses. "My first glimpse of you was two months ago, and that vision suggested otherwise."

"Huh?" How often did this creeper dream about me?

She pressed her lips together. "Three of you stood against us. Powerful, unremitting. Chaos descended from your interference, and the experiments were lost."

Three of who? What experiments? I took a moment to process her words. "So, did I shoot lasers out of my eyes or something?"

"Don't mock me," she hissed in building crescendo. "You might not have exhibited any outward abilities, but I know you had a hand in The Fall. A mere human would've posed no threat to us."

What the hell was she smoking? I rolled my jacket sleeve away from my mangled wrist. "Maybe I just rode shotgun. If Wallace was there, he'd be the one breaking things."

"Your attempts at ignorance are laughable at best, Rena." A breeze moved through the forest, and the torch flames leaned like fallen dominoes. "I expected more from this assessment."

"What assessment?" Okay, now I was the one getting worked up. The adrenaline pumping through my veins numbed my wrist, but everything else was on fire. My muscles were tight, my hairline was damp. If it weren't for Wallace, I would've bolted five minutes ago. "You're telling me you brought us here to check out the competition?"

"Something like that." She flicked her fingers in my direction, and Wallace advanced on me with quickened strides. "Which means I'll need to observe your defensive capabilities."

"Whoa, whoa." I held up my hands and backed away. "He'll kill me!"

"Things react differently once they're under pressure," she stated. "Think of a tube of toothpaste. Squeeze it, and that which has been sealed away must surface."

"Yeah, like my _organs._ " Was she insane? Just because I made a cameo in a few of her whacked-out dreams didn't mean I wasn't human. In fact, I was pretty sure it meant she was some kind of supernatural supremacist. Who says humans can't thwart experiments? I could knock over a few beakers and Bunsen bur—

A shadow fell over me, and I realized I'd backed all the way around the circle. "Crap."

Wallace's hands were rough on my shoulders as he spun me around and fisted the sides of my jacket. I tried to wrench back, but he was already hoisting me into the air. The seams dug in under my arms, and my chest thrust forward. _Shit._

My legs dangled a useless foot above the ground as I tried to meet his eyes. Heart attack. I was going to have a heart attack. Dying at my boyfriend's hands was not one of the scenarios I'd worked out on the way here. How could I fight ba—

"Do something already!" Gail barked, her voice scratchy and irritable. Had she sounded that tired before?

"Like what?" I asked, grasping at his wrist with my good hand. _C'mon, Wallace. It's me. You like me..._

His arms trembled, and I shot a glance over at Gail. Had she faltered?

No. Her eyes were still narrowed like she expected me to sprout wings and fly away. Did she honestly think I'd hold back at this point? If I had any kind of power, I would've used it by now. Repeatedly. On her face.

"Wallace." Her shrill tone echoed around the clearing. "It would appear our guest needs some motivation."

He bared his teeth like a cornered animal, his gaze never leaving mine. "But..."

_But!_ Was that a defiant glint his eyes? A spark of hope? Maybe distracting Gail wasn't the key to this thing. Maybe my best bet was giving Wallace a reason to fight...

"But, nothing," Gail ground out, grasping the nearest stake for support. "You know what you have to do."

I pressed my lips together as the firelight danced over her slick, pallid features. The manipulation was draining her. She couldn't hide it any longer.

"I know what I..." Wallace droned, his brows angled in frustration. "What I..."

I hushed him and ran a soothing hand over his shoulder. Well, almost. The way he was holding me, I couldn't reach. "No."

"No?" He jerked me close so fast, I almost got whiplash. My legs slammed against his. " _No?_ "

"Fight it," I whispered. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere. Just focus on me."

Ragged breaths ripped from his chest as he stared me down. "I..."

"Focus on me," I repeated in a firmer tone. "Focus on us. Focus on how much I care about you. I know you can feel it."

Had I been standing, the chaotic swell of emotions that followed would've brought to my knees. Loyalties and compulsions warred under waves of confusion and struggled to break free. Wallace was fighting. I knew he was.

Beneath my sleeve, the Mark of Nexus burned with relish.

Gail snorted. "You really are a pathetic piece of human trash, aren't you? Useless. Unworthy of our time. I told her, but she just wouldn't listen. The future rarely ever plays out the way it is foreseen. Too many variables, too many choic—"

"Told who?"

"Faye," she snapped, taking a step outside of the circle. "My grandmother."

_Faye...why did that sound familiar?_

"Oh, that's right." Gail pressed her back to the nearest tree as the light in her eyes dimmed. "You people thought she was gone, didn't you? My mistake."

Was she talking about Clara's sister? The one who died before the twins were born? __ "Unless you've been holding séances in your basement, yeah, I'd say she's gone."

Wallace shook his head a few times in my peripheral vision, but I didn't want to draw attention to it.

Gail rolled her eyes. __ "Contrary to what you've been led to believe, my grandmother did not die during her service in South America. Yes, it's true she was caught in the crossfire of civil unrest, but those human physicians were simply too overcome with fatalities to make a thorough inspection of her body. With her gifts, she was able to emerge from a fresh, shallow grave."

"That's believable," I said, not buying any of it. "Because, if she survived, she'd have no reason to contact her family."

She smiled. "So cynical. Funny, for a moment, I thought you'd fled your world to play in ours."

"So..." Wallace cleared this throat and lowered me to the ground. "You're telling us Faye faked her own death?"

My eyes nearly popped out of my skull. "Wallace!"

He let go of my jacket and I staggered back, too overcome with relief to say anything else. I wanted to throw my arms around his waist, to hug him, kiss him, bury my face in his chest—but I couldn't. This wasn't the time to let my guard down.

"Impossible," Gail shrieked, pushing off of the tree. "You shouldn't be moving."

"Yeah?" Wallace's voice dropped to a lethal level. "Well, I am. So, maybe you shouldn't be moving, either."

She huffed. "I took you once. You don't think I can do it again?"

"No." His mouth formed a thin line. "You look a little spent to me."

"And you look guilty," Gail spat. "Tell me, could you feel the bones snap when you grabbed her?"

His eyes flashed and, before I realized what was happening, he'd charged past the torches.

"Wait!" I managed to wedge myself between them and put my good hand on his chest. "We need to figure out what's going on first. Do you know where Clara is?"

Wallace shook his head, and I realized Gail was right. He _did_ look guilty. Really guilty. "No."

"There's a shock," Gail muttered from behind me. "Why don't I save you some time? She's at the lake with Faye."

Again with the zombie grandmother? I glanced over my shoulder. "Why don't you just call her Grandma?"

Gail's lip curled in disgust. "I refuse to refer to our head by such a juvenile title."

"Head of what?" Wallace asked. "And if Faye lived through the South American incident, why didn't she tell anyone?"

_Ugh._ Too many questions.

Gail slipped past us. "From what I understand, she returned to find her 'grieving' fiancé—a Mr. Frederick Blake—in bed with her sister. Not exactly the warm reception she hoped for."

Wallace turned to face her, leaving me with a shadowed view of his back. "Grandpa Freddy was engaged to Faye?"

"Wait," I cut in, and reclaimed my spot beside him. "Why didn't she bust them? If I found my fiancé in bed with anyone, let alone my own sister, I'd destroy him."

Gail shrugged. "I guess she saw it as an opportunity to make a fresh start. We should all be grateful."

"Grateful?" Wallace didn't sound convinced.

"She's since devoted her life to the revolution, a vision both she and my grandfather share. A mission with unfathomable possibility." Gail pronounced each word carefully, her eyes glazed with promise. "We will usher in an era of peace, unsullied by human hands...at least, not in their present state. Our awakened faction shall rise to power, and the days of war and illness will fade."

_Cult much?_ If she busted out sugary, fruit-flavored drinks, I was out of there.

Wallace straightened and crossed his arms over his chest. "How?"

"This world is a troubled place, Wallace. We shall winnow as we see fit, imparting the deserving with the potential to survive—leaving the rest to suffer grievously for their crimes."

"How?" Wallace and I repeated at the same time. We shared an awkward glance and diverted our attention back to Gail.

"It's something we've been looking into for a number of years now. I have foreseen its potential." A wry grin twisted her features. "A metaphorical transfusion, of sorts."

His eyes darkened, and I could feel his unease build inside me. "Explain."

"No need to be rude," she chided, smug in her sudden leverage. "As I'm sure you're aware, there are many things that set us apart from humanity. Given enough study, some of those differences are identifiable—not our gifts, of course, but our senses...our inherit strength and balance...our reflexes..."

She pressed her fingertips together in a steeple. "These are abilities humans already possess to a lesser extent. We've found that manipulating those aspects, based on our superior model, has the potential to yield promising results—a race transformed by the union of two, distinct influences."

"Uh, isn't that what you guys are anyway?" I asked. "Half-human, half-Dynari?"

Wallace stared at me for a moment and shook his head. _Great._

"We're not _half_ anything," Gail corrected. "When we're conceived, our bloodline overpowers and eclipses human development. It's bound into every fiber of our being and does not dilute from generation to generation."

"And these experiments of yours?"

She grinned. "Think of them as enhancements—the subjects forcibly evolved. Some of their human limitations will persist but should be overshadowed by newer, more heightened ability."

I cocked an eyebrow. "Well, someone thinks they're clever."

"Quite." Her grin widened. "Anything else you're dying to know?"

_How about why you're feeding us information?_ She'd laid her cards on the table before anyone thought to call. It was weird.

"Forcibly evolved," Wallace muttered. "What will you do with this army of yours?"

"We've been gifted with these abilities for a reason, Wallace. The world needs restoration. Can't you see that? We will be the catalyst for the new order." She paused, sizing him up. "And Faye thinks you would make a most powerful ally."

A muscle ticked in his jaw. "No."

"Excuse me?"

I felt compelled to position myself between them again. "He said he's not interested."

"You make it sound like he has a choice," she laughed, all semblance of normalcy lost from her features. "If you're not working for us, we'll have no use for you. Either of you. You think what I did to your brother was bad, Wallace? I'll torture you for weeks, months even. Then one day, when you least expect it, you'll get the sudden urge to end it all. Slow and messy. The worst kind of—"

I reached out and grabbed her collar with my good hand, gritting my teeth. "I suggest you shut your mouth, before I shut it for you."

"Don't touch me with your filthy, human hands!"

"Oh, I'll do more than touch you," I spat, jerking her closer. "If you were half as smart as you think you are, you'd walk away. Right now."

"Rena," Wallace said in a soft tone, like he was trying to talk me off the ledge. "I thought we weren't going to do anything rash..."

I tuned him out and glared up into her darkened expression. The brand on my arm felt like it was going to burn through my sleeve, and it was all I could do to force my breaths at regular intervals. "I mean it, Gail. Walk away."

Her livid gaze bored into mine. She was breathing hard, too. "No."

"No?" I looked down to gather what was left of my nerve but instead caught sight of a bulge at her waistband. _Shit._ That changed things.

"Well, then," I heard myself say on autopilot, eyes glued to the weapon. "I can't let you go any farther."

Gail sneered. "Is that supposed to be a threa—"

I let go of her collar, pivoted my hips, and thrust my fist at her face in one big round of momentum. This time, my knuckles made solid contact, and she seemed to fall in slow motion, her eyes wide with shock.

Wallace took a step toward us, but I was already gone.

I lunged for her the second her back hit the ground and pinned her arms against the leaves. Bolts of pain shot through my wrist, and I whimpered, holding down against her struggles. "Wallace!" I yelled, straddling her. "Hurry! She's got a gun."

#  CHAPTER 44

Wallace was at my side in a flash, kneeling down. "What? Where?"

I nodded toward her hip.

"That's not a gun, you twit," Gail snapped. "That's my cell phone."

He lifted her shirt and, sure enough, there was a black phone clipped to the waistband of her jeans. _Oops._

"W-Well, you're lucky," I grumbled, as I turned back to Wallace. "So, what should we do now? Where's Cole?"

"We split up when we got here. He's probably been intercepted by Faye, if she's really here. We need to find him." His eyes kept darting to my wrist, a familiar wave of emotions stirring inside him.

I ignored his concern and tilted my head in Gail's direction. "What are we going to do about her?"

"We can't leave her. We'll have to take her with us."

A strange sensation crept over my shoulder as I tried to nod at him. It pulsed around my mark and slid toward my mangled wrist like a snake, coiling and tightening. I wanted to hit Wallace. No, I _needed_ to hit Wallace. Everything in my body felt off, tormented by denying the compulsion. If I didn't—

My hand lashed out of its own accord, slapping him hard across the cheek. "Shiiiiiit!" I hissed and doubled over, clutching my wrist. The impact had jarred the injury, and now it radiated an ache worse than before. I couldn't even look at him.

Someone latched onto my shoulders for the briefest of seconds, only to be ripped away. I jerked my chin back to find Wallace's side in my face as he pinned Gail down.

"Gail," he growled. "That's enough."

My jaw dropped. She'd manipulated me as a diversion to get the upper hand. How the hell had that gotten past me?

"Okay," she cried, squirming beneath both of us. "Ease up. You're going to break my arms, you big, stupid oaf."

"Are you okay?" Wallace called over his shoulder, ignoring her pleas.

His concern, no matter how needless, still gave me the butterflies. "Yeah."

"Let go!" she yelled at the top of her lungs. "I swear, if something happens to me, they'll kill her."

"What do you mean 'they'll'?" he demanded in a voice that sent a chill down my spine. "I thought Faye was the only one with you."

I crawled off of her and moved to stand off to the side. If he was holding her down, there was no need for me to be on top of her, too. He was unmovable.

She narrowed her eyes. "My boyfriend is there. Who do you think took Clara to begin with?"

"Did they hurt her?" Wallace spoke carefully, restraining the underlying urgency I felt pulse inside me. When she didn't answer, he gritted his teeth. "Tell me."

"I guess you'll find out when you see her," she retorted.

And then the heavens gave way. Rain pelted the earth in a frigid downpour and doused the torches. Great. Just what we needed.

Gail writhed beneath him, squeezing her eyes shut against the stinging raindrops. "If you join us, I guarantee they'll let her go."

"Screw that," I said, shivering and looking around. "I'll go scout out the lake and report back."

"No." Wallace looked up. "I don't want you out of my sight."

"Touching," Gail sneered. "How about you let me up, and I'll lead you there?"

I lifted my boot off the ground. "How about I kick you in the head and pray you only lose consciousness?"

Wallace leaned to the side, and in one swift motion, hoisted her over his shoulder. "We'll take her with us." Without so much as a wince, he rose to his feet and started off in some random direction. "I know it'll be hard for you to see, so stay close."

"I can see fine," I grumbled, trekking after them. "Do you have any idea where to start looking?"

"No." He skirted around a fallen log. "But I have a feeling they want to be found."

And as it turned out, he was right.

Ten minutes later, we came to a bluff overlooking the Ohio version of a beach—a shallow lake edged with caked, probably-imported sand. Several figures stood scattered below, their forms cast in silhouette by the hellish glow of a bonfire. _Well, this has all the makings of a crime scene..._

I wiped my bangs back and followed Wallace down a slick, wooden staircase. He'd wasted no time getting here, taking strides I could only match with a jog. It made me nervous.

Gail was limp over his shoulder, her head bobbing with each step. Thank God she'd exhausted herself with that last stunt. There was no more cult-drivel to be heard, only the soothing whisper of rain on the water as we made our way down the beach.

From the lower vantage point, I could see why their fire was still going. Rocks jutted out from the cliff side, shielding it from the downpour. If only that were their _only_ protection.

"Put her down," a familiar voice demanded, as we neared. "And don't try anything."

_Wait a minute._ I dared a step closer and peered through the flames. "Maverick?"

#  CHAPTER 45

Maverick tensed, his eyes trained on Gail's motionless form. "Put her down," he repeated, not moving from his spot.

What on earth was he doing here, of all places? Didn't he know who these—

Then it clicked.

Gabby had told me Maverick called out another woman's name during sex. _Gail_. _This_ Gail. _She_ was the other woman! I started around the fire, but Cole held his arm out.

"Careful," he said. "They've got—"

"Clara," I finished, my gaze locking on the hostage Maverick held pinned against his chest. She looked positively ashen, standing there with tearstained cheeks. Her eyes met mine, and I swallowed uneasily.

Wallace's voice cut through the fire's crackling hiss. "Let her go." No wonder he was in a hurry. He'd probably felt her distress a mile away.

Maverick slipped his other arm around her neck, and something sinister glinted in the light. "You first."

"CL." Cole gestured across the fire, referring to the letters on the map. "You were right. It was Clara Lawrence."

"But why use her maiden name?" I asked. "Isn't it Clara Blake now?"

"That name was never hers to take," a cold voice responded, as a woman stepped out from the shadows. The golden light flicked across her weathered features, and I sucked in a deep breath. Dark, puckered scars marred the skin around her forehead and closed right eye like a grotesque half-mask. _What the...?_

"Faye." Clara's voice rang out strong, despite the expression she wore. "You know we never meant to hurt you. It just happened."

_That_ was Faye? I gave her a quick once-over. Aside from the scars, there wasn't anything remarkable about her. Her hair was still a bit dark, shot with streaks of silver and in a low ponytail. She wore a simple, flannel shirt buttoned up over a pair of jeans and work boots. Was I supposed to believe _she_ was the orchestrator behind everything?

"Spare me your excuses. You knew I was only a few months away from fulfilling my obligations abroad." Faye's words were tight, laced with hurt that'd gone heinously bitter. "You were going to be my maid of honor, Clara. Don't tell me it _just happened_."

"You were dead," Clara whispered. "Where else could we take comfort, than in each other—the two who knew you best?"

"You wished I was dead! Freddy meant everything to me. After _this_ happened"—Faye jerked her hand back, gesturing to the scars—"he was the only man who would even look at me. I would've given him everything, but you...you..." Her shoulders fell as she lowered her voice in a defeated whisper. "You married him."

"Wait," I interrupted. "Clara, I thought your major gift was empathy. Why didn't you sense her feelings of betrayal?"

"I did," Clara said quietly. "I waved it off as guilt and delusional grief. What was I to think? That the feelings were truly hers and not my own? I've carried that weight in my heart all this time. If only I'd known she survived..." Her words broke off, and another tear spilled down her cheek.

Cole blew out a heavy sigh. "We've already been through this." He nodded toward Gail, still slung over Wallace's shoulder. "Did you guys get anything out of her, other than the same revolutionary bullshit I've been forced to choke down for the past hour? By the way, nice to see you, Rena. I figured you'd show up."

Wallace bent to lay Gail on the ground. "Yeah, apparently she had a vision that we were going to mess up their plans for human experimentation. So, we're being—"

"Tested," Cole finished. "I know. After we split up, I swept this stupid park twice to find Grandma. Two minutes and thirty-three seconds. Would you believe that? These goons actually timed me."

So, Cole was the third person Gail saw in her dream. The whole setup was starting to make sense. Why destroy what you might be able to use? I chewed on the inside of my cheek. This wasn't just a test. It was a recruitment screening.

"Enough." Maverick's terse voice cut through the nighttime air as he nudged Clara forward with his knee, prodding her toward us. "I-I'll...I'll trade you the old lady." He spared a glance back at Faye, eyeing her. "I _have_ to."

"They won't harm her." Faye waved him off. "But do as you please. My sister has already served her purpose here."

"Drop the knife and back away," Wallace instructed, positioning himself between Gail and Maverick. "Then we'll let you have her."

"How do I know you won't pull something once I hand her over?" Maverick asked.

I didn't recognize his new demeanor. Where was that clueless, stoner smile I'd come to expect? Now he just seemed gaunt, sweaty, and paranoid. _Yuck._

"We have no reason to trick you," __ Cole interjected. "You really think you—a human—have the upper hand?" He cast a quick glance in my direction. "No offense."

I nearly snorted. "None taken."

"I'm not human." Maverick threw the knife down and shoved Clara forward, fire reflecting in his eyes. "Not anymore."

Nobody said anything as Cole blurred, catching Clara mid-stumble. His gaze darkened, but he didn't allow any more emotion to impede his expression. "I thought that might be the case."

"What?" I looked between them. "What do you mean?"

Wallace was suddenly at my side, angling his shoulder in front of me. "It means they've already started their experiments."

"You can't be serious." I crumpled my brow, peering around his arm. "What about Gabby? Does she know about any of this?"

Maverick shook his head and bent down to gather Gail in his arms. "Don't you get it, Rena? It was a ploy. All of it."

"All of it?" I blinked as my mind raced over the past month. "How?"

"Gail foresaw your involvement in this." He struggled to find his footing as he straightened, shifting her in his arms. "We just thought if I kept you two apar—"

"What my intern means to say," Faye cut in, "is that we had background information on the twins, but you were an unknown factor. He transferred to get a better feel for you, how you tick, where you would most likely come into play."

Maverick nodded. "It didn't take much coaxing for Gabby to open up about your relationship. Unfortunately, my brand of casual interference—getting you trashed, encouraging you to meddle in Wallace's private life—wasn't enough to keep you two at odds. I should've implemented a second strategy."

"But you didn't," I said, flexing my fingers. "So, what's your next move?"

"Oh no, I'm afraid we've left you with the wrong impression." Faye smoothed a trembling hand over her heart. "Our interference wasn't meant to antagonize you. We were simply looking out for our mission, for progress. You must understand."

Cole snorted and eased Clara behind us, but Faye didn't stop there.

"It was my fault for underestimating you. I never expected you three to be such bright, open-minded individuals. Why, you might even consider joining our internship program. To think, two more Dynari and a..."

She paused and gave me the once-over. "What exactly are you, my dear?"

I could've groaned. Was it that hard to tell? "I'm human, Faye. But thanks for asking."

"Human?" Her nose wrinkled. "You're certain of this?"

"Yes," I gritted out. "Is that a problem?"

"Of course not." She waved me off with a dramatic flourish. "It's just that I'm not in need of someone with your particular...skill set, at this time. It is a competitive program, after all. Only those with the most unique capabilities are admitted."

I bit down on my lip. "Oh."

It wasn't that I wanted to join. These people were obsessed, ethically-damaged science geeks. But that didn't stop what Gail said about killing those they didn't have a use for, from echoing in my mind. Was I a loose thread?

"We're done here," Wallace told Faye, his jaw tight. "I'm not interested in your program, I'm not interested in your mission, and I'm not interested in any other garbage you have to sell to me. Just let us go, and we'll forget this night ever happened."

She tilted her chin. "I'm sorry you feel that way."

I wasn't. "He's right. We'd better get g—ah!"

A sharp tug on my coat sleeve sent me reeling as the material ripped apart. "Hey!" I latched onto the back of Wallace's shirt for balance, trying to right myself. "What the—"

"Hold still." Cole carefully slid the purple sleeve down my arm and over my mutilated wrist. I hadn't even seen him leave Clara's side.

Wallace looked tired, glancing over his shoulder at his brother. "What are you doing?"

"Wool is stiff," he said in a matter-of-fact tone, tearing the sleeve into shreds. "Her wrist should be immobilized. It looks like shit." He reached into his pocket, produced two slightly damp twigs, and tied them to my wrist with startling dexterity. A makeshift splint. Just like that. "So, did I miss a catfight or what?"

"Huh?" Was he going to completely ignore what just happened?

Cole nodded toward Gail as she started to come to, rubbing at the swollen, discolored part of her face. "You're still standin', so I'm guessing it's safe to call this one yours."

I opened my mouth to correct him, but stopped before the words could pass my lips. He didn't need to know Wallace had been the one to hurt me. "Thanks."

"Just promise you'll call me next time. I would've liked to have taken pictures."

"Nicholas," Clara sighed, massaging her temples. "Please be respectful."

He grinned like a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "I'm respecting the art of female combat."

"My God, does he ever shut up?" Gail groaned, pressing her palms to her eye sockets. "There wasn't a catfight. I lost consciousness after abusing my power to manipulate them during the assessment."

I moved my arm and flexed my fingers, testing my circulation. Not bad, actually. My wrist still hurt like crazy, but the sturdiness was reassuring. Maybe I could—

"Rena," Clara suddenly breathed, staring at me in awe.

"What?"

I followed her gaze to the now-visible band around my arm. No wonder everyone had gone silent. The Mark of Nexus was doing that freaky, glowy thing again, emitting an otherworldly spectrum of colors.

Faye moved around the fire, her eyes locked on my marking. "I don't believe it."

Cole's lips twisted into a smirk, and I couldn't help but wonder if he'd revealed it on purpose.

"Impossible," Gail spat as Maverick set her down on her feet. "The Nexus was forged of legend. There's never been a recorded case of an actual, modern-day occurrence. It's an illusion."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, that's it, because we all know I'm totally capable of that." She acted like I was trying to trick them. What would I even get out of that? "If it's not real, why do you guys pass down stories about it?"

"Why do humans pass down fairytales and bedtime stories?" she countered.

"Touché."

Clara reached out and brushed her fingertips across the strange, angular lines. "It's beautiful," she muttered, a ghost of a smile tracing her lips. "Wallace, do you have one too?"

He didn't answer.

"Honey?" She turned to look at him, worry creasing her eyes.

"Cole," Wallace bit out, meeting his brother's eye with an unspoken command. His expression tensed in indescribable emotion as he shifted his weight.

Cole nodded. "Just go. I got this."

_What?_

Wallace didn't look back at me, edging around the others without a word of explanation. He hadn't made it three steps past the fire when Gail spoke up.

"Where do you think you're going?"

He didn't falter, taking long, near-staggering strides toward the darkness. _What the hell?_ Was he mad? Where was he going?

I was about to say something when a strange feeling pierced my consciousness. Dark and foreboding, it pulled for attention as it crept closer. The others started talking, but I couldn't focus on anything they were saying. Their words jumbled together in a dull murmur. Something was wrong.

Hot tears welled up, fast and urgent behind my left eye. "Wallace..." I barely recognized my own voice as I stumbled after him, brushing past their outstretched arms. Yeah, something was definitely wrong.

The light from the fire faded, and icy raindrops welcomed me back into the night. They slid down my face as I followed him, lost in a haze of wispy concern. Somewhere, the voices rose in argument and fell into the background.

There was a heartbeat pounding in my ears. Whether it was his or mine, I didn't really know. My thoughts were fragmented. He was in pain. _Pain_. The word echoed around my mind as he let out a tortured groan from within the shadow of the cliff.

_What time is it?_

I ran to him, tearing through the wet, dirty sand. "Wal..." My words ran dry as a chaotic swell of emotions crashed over me, slowing my step. I couldn't go there. It was like an invisible barrier had separated us, leaving me on the outside.

He'd already slipped into the world of nightmares, lost to his nightly sentence of torture. How had I lost track of the time? A cluster— _now_?

The rain held me in its chilled embrace as I stood there, frozen, watching his darkened form collapse onto the ground. Even as he screamed out, gripping at his head, crushing his eye against the cliff side, there was nothing I could do to ease his pain. I'd never felt so useless.

Now, in his proximity, I could sense the disturbance in our bond. I wasn't experiencing his pain firsthand, but it was something I was intimately aware of. It was like heat lightning. The flashes were there, but the storm was too far away to seem real.

My fist—the good one—clenched at my side.

I couldn't fight the battle with him, but I'd be damned if he'd feel alone. The only thing I could do was wait. Cole said Wallace lost his strength around these episodes. If that were true, he'd be vulnerable afterward.

I'd stay and stand guard.

It was the only thing I could do.

#  CHAPTER 46

I watched as silvery streaks rippled the inky surface of the lake, reflecting hints of moonlight. It felt like more than half an hour had passed, but I had no way of knowing for sure. No one had come after us.

Wallace lay exhausted against the rocks behind me. Watching his struggle had stolen something from me—something I'd never get back. Ignorance. Naivety. Something. The harshness of reality shouldn't have had a place there, among the supernatural happenings of the night. It felt so wrong.

After giving him a moment, I turned and met his shamed gaze. Neither one of us said anything as I trekked through the wet sand and fell to my knees beside him. I closed my eyes and pulled him close, rubbing my hand over his shoulders.

He didn't protest. Soon, his breathing deepened, and I felt his body relax against me. To be honest, I didn't know which one of us was being comforted. It was such a peaceful, removed moment in time. I didn't know how to take it.

How many tribulations were ours to bear? Surprisingly, the thought didn't bother me as much as I thought it would. It didn't matter anymore. We had each other now. Whatever happened, we'd find a way through it together.

Being with him wasn't the sacrifice he'd claimed it to be; it was a blessing that'd come in disguise. It was hard to believe that, at one point, I'd been afraid of him. Now I could only fear what I'd be without him.

Feelings were stirring within my heart—ones I didn't recognize because I'd refused to acknowledge them before. Adoration and longing, gratitude and devotion. They all seemed so simple in theory. Why did I have such a hard time vocalizing them?

I blew out a sigh and opened my eyes.

The rain wasn't cold anymore. It plastered our forms together and washed away the rest of the world. Everything seemed so far away.

He lifted his head and studied me for a moment. The side of his face was swollen, framed with scrapes and cuts where he'd tried to escape the maddening pressure. His weary glaze remained aglow, too stubborn to fade into exhaustion.

The warmth of his breath caressed the side of my face as he watched me, his lips curving into a slow smile.

It made me self-conscious. "What?"

"I love you." He'd said it with a shrug, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

My heart stopped beating. "What?"

"I know you can probably sense it, but I...I guess I just needed to say it out loud." He didn't look away, pain maturing the hardened lines of his face. "I don't know what to do. I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't hurt me." The reassurance was a knee-jerk reaction. Why did he always have to make me so nervous?

His gaze slid down to my wrist, glowing a guiltier shade of blue. "Saying I'm sorry isn't enou—"

"It'll heal," I assured him, still trying to grasp the implications of his words. "It was an accident."

His brows lowered. "There are always going to be accidents with me, Rena. Maybe one of those times it won't heal. _You_ won't heal. Then what?"

We were _not_ having this discussion again. "Wallace, listen to me, because this is the last time I'm going to say it." I met his gaze, banishing any lingering worry to the back of my mind. "I'm in this, assumed risk and all."

He opened his mouth to respond, so I pressed my fingertips to his lips, silencing him. "There will be times when you hurt me, and as much as I hate it, there will be times when I hurt you, too. It happens. _Accidents_ happen. Nobody gets to live forever." I traced down his chin to the strong set of his jaw, lowering my voice. "Not even you..."

_Heart. Stab._

We were both silent for a moment before he straightened with a sigh, pulling me close. "Rena..."

"Think of it this way," I whispered, taking a deep breath of the smoky, rain-infused scent that clung to his shirt. "If one of us dies, the severed bond will make life insufferable, right? Doesn't that make us mutually dangerous?"

He paused. "After that punch I saw earlier, I'd say you're dangerous, anyway."

"Funny." I rolled my eyes, pulling back to look at him. Then it hit me. "Wallace, do you realize that you're—"

"A little weak at the moment?" he asked, dropping his hands to my waist with a tired grin. "Yeah, but it's not for long, though."

"Well, then...we probably shouldn't waste it." My heart fluttered with bittersweet possibility. Would it be wrong to steal just one, forbidden moment of normalcy? We could finally—

"You're right," someone interrupted from the fall of shadows. "We shouldn't waste it." Two sets of eyes blinked into focus as something blurred in my peripheral vision.

Before I could react, Wallace grabbed my shoulders and angled his body over mine. "Move!"

"Wha—" My back hit the wet sand as a loud crack was heard. Wallace's eyes shot open wide, and the slightest gasp parted his lips. A huge chunk of wood fell to the side with a dull, unceremonious thud.

#  CHAPTER 47

"Shit!" I recognized the voice as Maverick's, and as soon as I looked up, I realized what'd happened. He'd tried to club Wallace over the head with a log from the fire, and the thing had broken over his dense skull.

Strangely, I felt kind of proud. His body was solid and able to withstand the stress of his ability. It only made sense that he was able to take a heavy blow like that—even in a weakened state.

A sigh drifted in the breeze as Faye stepped into the fray. "All right. I'm going to make this simple, kids." She crouched down to study us with her good eye, her lips forming a thin line. "I gave you a chance, and you refused. Now we're going to try this a different way."

"This isn't what we agreed on," Gail cut in, her voice a harsh whisper. "I told you. I saw it. They'll form a resistance within the year."

"Hush." Faye smiled at Wallace. "Though your lack of interest is upsetting, I won't hold it against you. We'll simply force your cooperation."

The air caught in my lungs, suspended in anticipation of her next words.

"My thought had been to knock you out and transport you for later study," she told him, gesturing toward the broken log. "Unfortunately, you're more resilient than I anticipated. I thought you would've been a bit more, shall we say, _approachable_ , after eight thirty."

I struggled to get up, but Wallace was shielding me with his body. Even without his strength, he still outweighed me by an easy hundred pounds. _Damn it._

"How did you know about his headaches?" I asked. "Did Gail probe Cole's mind or something?"

Maverick laughed, and my skin crawled. "Gabby shared that little tidbit. Remember?"

Wires crossed in my brain as I struggled against Wallace's grip. "What did you do to her?"

"She's still in the dark about all of this," Gail cut in, her voice bland. "Harming her would only garner unnecessary attention. She poses no threat to us."

_Smug little..._ "So, was screwing her part of the equation or were _you_ in the dark about that?"

She faltered. For the slightest fraction of a second, she faltered. I saw it. She smoothed her frizz against the rain. "Whatever he did, he did in the name of our cause."

"Your cause," I mimicked. "Somehow, I think we missed the name of this cause."

"R. S. Tobler Laboratories funds a pro bono clinic outside the city," she explained, clearly a fan of villain monologues. "It houses an advanced studies program called Project ERA—the E-R-A standing for Evolution Requires Action. Though, you're probably more familiar with its _influenza vaccine_ program. Am I right? "

_That call in the diner!_

How on earth did they get a pharmaceutical company like Tobler to sponsor—

Gail laughed. "I can see the little cogs working in your mind. Allow me to spare you the pain of deduction." A smirk twisted her features as she stepped forward, splashing my face with mud. "The company was founded by my grandfather, Randolph Sebastian Tobler."

I spat and glared up at her towering form. So, Tobler was Faye's husband? My focus blurred as I tried to process the information. If they were in control of the company's operation...

"Enough talk," Faye muttered, groaning as she pushed down on her knees to straighten herself. "We'll take the boy. They need to be separated for the purpose of this analysis. Maverick, be a good little intern and do something with the girl. Keep her occupied for a bit."

Wallace growled low in his throat. "Don't talk about us like we're not here."

"We're done talking, anyway." Faye pressed her fingertips to her scarred lid and lifted the skin there. "Just be thankful the Mark brands your girlfriend as something more interesting than her pathetic bloodline."

I felt the color drain from my face as I stared, struggling to register what I was seeing. It was like looking into a void, with darkness swirling out from its vacant depths. Purple and black, mixed together, like toxic smoke. _What the—_

Weight slammed down on top of me as Wallace covered me with his body. My heart hammered out a panicked beat between us, and his lips brushed my ear. "Listen, I need you to go to the truck. Now. As fast as you can get there," he whispered. "I'm pretty sure Cole has gotten Grandm—ugggh!" He choked and flew back, eyes wide as he grasped at the smoky lariat around his neck.

"Wallace!" I pushed myself up without thinking, and my wrist caved. _Damn it!_ I forced my weight to the other side and scrambled to my feet, clutching my wrist. Did he honestly think I'd leave without him?

"Gail," Faye instructed, holding out a clenched fist as she tilted her chin toward him. "Now."

Gail gave a quick nod and let out a centering breath.

"Right." Her eyes sparked and intensified in the low light, making Wallace's eyes shine a brighter shade of blue.

Was he under her power again? My stomach twisted. Was this part of his plan?

"Go!" he rasped, sounding painfully depleted of oxygen.

I gave a jolt and stumbled back. _Oh God._ My body was shaking. _What should I do?_ I had to go, didn't I? There was no way I could take them on by myself, even if they were distracted. I had to trust him.

_Right?_

There was no time left to decide. Tears seared my eyes as I watched him collapse, ceasing his struggles. I had to go now. With a sudden force of will, I turned heel and ran—legs burning as I barreled down the narrow beach, past where the fire had already been put out. _Which direction was the parking lot?_ I felt so disoriented.

The dark scenery flew past in a blur as I made for the dilapidated stairs at the base of the hillside. My fingertips had just brushed the chilled, metal railing when someone grabbed a fistful of my hair and ripped me backward. "Ugh!" My feet flew out from under me and I gasped, falling back into a goopy mess of sand and soil.

"Sorry," Maverick panted, bent at the waist. "Nothing personal, but—"

"Don't give me that, you...you..." I glowered up at him as I rolled to my side through the thick, gritty mud. "I don't even know what you are now."

He frowned. "Don't be like that, Rena."

"All this time," I muttered, groaning as I forced myself up again. "You knew, all this time, and you pretended to be my friend. I was nothing more than a sacrifice for your initiation." The mud weighed down my already soaked clothing. I felt like a swamp monster drudging toward the stairs. "All for some girl."

"You're not a sacrifice." His expression tightened. "And Gail's not just some girl. She's _the_ girl. Why do you think I went to the trouble of transferring schools to take some stupid elective? I have an IQ of 153, for crying out loud. It wasn't some decision I made on a whim."

I had to contend with a slacker genius? _Great._

"Well, you cheated on 'the girl' with my best friend, so I can't exactly say I'm happy for you." I brushed past him, stomping up the first few steps. "I don't know what makes you think you have the right to toy with people's lives, Maverick." I paused for a moment. "Is that even your real name?"

"I didn't cheat." He was right on my heels, taking the stairs two at a time. "And the only things I lied about were my intentions. I had to get close to Gabby—to get close to you, without arousing suspicion. Don't act like she'll be heartbroken. She knew what that was."

I gripped the railing, angrily making my way up the hill. I didn't know where I was going, but I had to keep moving in some direction. "I liked you better when I thought you were a burn-out."

That was enough to make him hesitate, brows lowering as we fell in step. "I told you, this wasn't personal." He shook his head, dismissing whatever had impeded his train of thought. "And I'd do it all again, if it brought us one step closer to the revolution."

_Great. Another devotee..._

I slowed my steps and took a deep breath at the top. What was I going to do? He wasn't going to just let me waltz away with a few parting words. I had to ditch him.

But how? I couldn't think as I peered into the suffocating darkness, squinting to make out shapes of trees. What was going on with Wallace? Was he okay?

A cold wind whipped past, and the isolation finally started to sink in. I'd left him to fight alone. What if that was the last time we saw each other? The tattoo on my arm was dull and lifeless, like a mark that bore no meaning.

"They knocked him out," Maverick answered, studying my panicked expression. "Don't bother worrying. There's nothing you can do about it now."

Easy for him to say. How would he feel if the situation were reversed? "Imagine someone separated you from Gail, and they knocked her out. Wouldn't you want to go after her?"

His gaze hardened. "Don't compare us with that morbid, whirlwind fascination of yours. He's one of the most potentially dangerous Dynari we have on record. He doesn't deserve your loyalty."

Maim him. I was going to maim him and run. There was no time to plan an attack that might or might not stun him enough to get away. I had to go with a cheap shot.

Screw my wrist. If we survived this ordeal, I'd go to the hospital—until then, it was mine to abuse. I bit down on my bottom lip until I felt the sting of blood, and my eyes began to well up with tears. "Y-You're right."

"What?"

The rain lent well to my performance, streaking raindrops down my cheeks. "I just don't know how I got caught up in this mess!" Forcing a sob, I threw myself against him, burying my face in his chest.

"Hey..." He gave my back an awkward pat as I clung to him, trembling from the cold. "It's not like you can fight fate."

_Wanna bet?_ I took a deep, sniffling breath, pulled down on his shoulders, and...rammed his balls into oblivion.

The action provoked a horrid, guttural roar. He let out a string of curses, as his features twisted beyond recognition. "Re...na..."

As he sank to his knees, wheezing and clutching himself, I turned to run like hell. "Sorry," I yelled over my shoulder, jumping over a fallen log as I barreled into the forest. "Nothing personal."

#  CHAPTER 48

I sprinted across the parking lot—arms pumping, breathing hard—as the rain plastered my hair to my face. My boots slapped the wet pavement, and cold water splashed my pant legs. Where was he? The band on my arm pulsed with awakened urgency.

My muscles burned from exertion as I stumbled to a stop, wiping the stinging rain from my eyes. "Wallace?" I yelled, eyes raking every corner of the vacant lot.

It wasn't the one we'd parked in.

The shadows and streetlights distorted, taking on the shape of a twisted carnival ride, and I bent to catch my breath. Why wasn't he here? I'd felt his presence so strongly a minute ago. Had it been my imagination?

_Oh God._ What if Gail made good on that threat?

"Rena...?" someone called in a weak voice.

My heart stopped. I jerked my chin up, completely unprepared for what was before me. "Wallace?"

He struggled, each limb bound by shackles made of dark, wispy smoke. It coiled around his broken form in a seductive spiral, caressing his cheek—burning his skin.

I staggered toward him. "Are you o—"

"Stay there!" More smoke hovered behind him, darkening as it split to form three vaporous spears. His face contorted in desperation as he writhed, trying to pull away. " _Please_."

I'd never heard a more sincere plea in my life. The spears descended from each side, as if hurled from a vengeful wraith. They pierced his skin, running him through from the back, leaving him impaled and suspended.

"No!" I barely recognized the gut wrenching cry as my own. It was too shrill, too helpless. _I thought...they wanted his help...I thought...this was another test..._

_He can't..._

Just like that, the spears dissipated into nothingness, ripping away his support in streaks of splattered crimson. He fell to his knees in slow motion, eyes impossibly wide as he crashed to the ground.

I reacted without thinking, sprinting the short distance to drop beside him on the slick, broken pavement. "Please, God...no...no..."

Blood pooled around his body as he lay there, soaked and discarded. The smoke hovered around his motionless form like it was waiting—but for what, I didn't know. I dove through the thick of it and rolled him over to rest his head on my lap. "Talk to me." I smoothed his wet hair back, breathing hard. "Hey, look at me. It's gonna be okay."

His vacant gaze met mine, and for the slightest of moments, his eyes softened.

I cradled his head to my chest as the smoke twisted around us. This wasn't happening. It was just another nightmare. Right? We'd wake up soon. We had to.

My breath caught in my lungs, and I knew I was about to be overcome with shock. Tears fell from my unblinking eyes as I began to shiver, empty and bereft. "Wallace..."

"S-S'okay." He smiled humorlessly, his lips barely moving. "Leave...me."

"Don't talk like that." My arms shook as I pulled him close, squeezing my eyes shut. "I-I love you, okay? Did you hear me? I love you. Just, stay here. I'll...I'll figure something out..."

He felt so heavy.

"My, isn't this a tragic scene?" Faye's voice cut through the rain, a sadistic mockery of compassion.

"You..." I managed to choke out, my eyes snapping open. "What have you done?"

The smoke charged and plumed around me, scorching ribbons into my flesh for the rain to devour. I couldn't move.

"I wouldn't get too upset, pet. I wouldn't want anyone else to get hurt."

I couldn't believe what was happening. As I stared at her, my arms began to tremble. The muscles contracted in spasms, giving way to violent tremors as I struggled to shield him with my body. "Leave us alone."

"I'm afraid it's not that simple."

"I swear," I ground out, hating the emotion straining my vocal chords. "If something happens to him..."

"You'll what?" She smiled, taking a step forward. "This is the end of the line, my dear, in more ways than one."

Burning rivulets of tears spilled down my cheeks, and I gritted my teeth. "No."

"No?"

I glowered up at her. "You...you can't..." That's when I felt _it_ snap. Something burst as if freed from a broken dam, flooding my system with energy. The rush turned my stomach, and I clung even tighter to Wallace. "No!"

His body glowed an iridescent blue, and somehow it spread to encompass me. The smoke retreated a few feet to arc around our joined form from a distance. Was it...afraid?

"Wallace," I whispered in an urgent tone, leaning down to press my forehead against his. "What's going on?"

My arms still shook, and I couldn't stop the tears from falling. Whatever was pumping through my body had all of my nerves twitching on high alert. Blood pounded in my ears, and I pulled back to look at him.

His eyelids lifted and fluttered in a struggle to stay open even the slightest crack—revealing the same glowing blue.

Was this what happened at the end? Was his power leaving him? I suddenly felt hyperaware of the blood coating my shirt and skin. _He's...dying._ _I have to do something. Now_!

I jerked my head back and scanned the lot, struggling to find a way out. There was no way I could carry him and escape. I couldn't even call for help. Faye had us exactly where she wanted—isolated and vulnerable. At her mercy.

"Give it up," Faye demanded, having finally shed her cool exterior. "Accept his death as sacrifice, and I'll allow you to run."

_His death..._

Without truly knowing what I was doing, I thrust my arm out and reached for her. Rage, along with the blue glow, hurled from my outstretched fingers and coursed through the night. Like glacial lightning, it bolted straight into her chest.

Her lips parted in a gasp as it took hold, igniting her left eye the same color.

A barrage of emotions tore through my soul at that moment—fear, bitterness, hurt, and, unequivocal hatred. I felt like I was hyperventilating, gasping for breath. My mind was losing focus. I couldn't hold it.

As if invigorated by the atmosphere, the heinous wisps of smoke tore back in search of new prey. They showed no hesitation in turning on their master, lashing her face in red trails. "No!" Her screams echoed throughout the lot as she fell to her knees. "S-Stop..."

" _You_ stop," I demanded. "Let us go."

"Not...yet." She made a futile attempt to shield her face, but the smoke was already there—searing grooves into her flesh. "S-Still need..."

I flexed my hand and fought to control the flux of power. Something was going on here, something I needed to hold on for. Faye could have killed us at any time, but she didn't. She chose to draw it out, to use her body as a gauge of power.

We were still being tested.

The knowledge both infuriated and empowered me. This was our only chance at escape. After everything I'd seen and heard tonight, I had no doubt Faye would eliminate us if we didn't suit her purposes. Whatever I did, I had to make it count.

"Need, need..." Faye babbled against her arms, riding the line of pain and insanity. "Peace...control..."

I took a deep breath and gathered every last ounce of energy left charging the air between us. "Maybe you'll find"—I clenched my teeth as the smoke starting rotating around her, faster and faster—"peace in the afterlife."

Her head shot up in panic. "Wait, no!"

Wallace groaned, and three things happened at once.

The lot swayed, my vision blurred, and my hand fell limp over his chest. God, I was _exhausted_. The glow surrounding us faded and winked out, darkening the night. That was it. All I could do.

"A-An unexpected stalemate." Faye coughed and lifted her hand, struggling to catch her breath. As if summoned, the smoke returned and dissipated in a vacuum. Her fingertips eased the scarred lid closed, and she studied us with pained calculation. "The Mark of Nexus far exceeds my expectations."

"Like I give a shit about what exceeds your expectations." The glow sparked anew, and then faded just as quickly as it appeared. "You turned on your own flesh and blood. You think I'll just let you sit there and watch while he suffers?"

Whatever had happened, whatever I'd done, the lines of reality had blurred between us. She was weakened, and I held some kind of power now. I could negotiate with that, even if it meant bluffing.

"There's a very limited window of time in these matters," she muttered. "Though it's true I possess the power to intervene, the reversal is contingent upon..."

_The power to intervene?_ My previous plans fell to the wayside.

"Do it," I interrupted, not wanting to waste another moment. "Please."

"And what would you give me in return?" She tilted her head. "You know, a favor unto your grafted family."

"I don't care." I held on even tighter, trying to stay coherent. "If you have the power to save him, do it _now_."

"Give me your binding word."

My vision was going hazy. "My what?"

"Your word," she snapped, breaking her calm façade. "Tell me you'll come to me, when I summon you. Even if neither of you join our cause, your bond is mine to study."

"Fine." I heard the word spill from my lips with a sick detachment. "Just hurry!"

Her lips twisted back in sanctimonious pleasure. "Very well." Wispy clouds, glittering with rain and moonlight, rose around us. "I look forward to your cooperation."

"Wha—" Everything went black.

And I knew no more.

#  CHAPTER 49

"—na."

I reveled in the warmth that enveloped me, burrowing closer as a smile tugged my lips. "Mmm..." My pillow smelled _good_.

Someone chuckled, and I felt it rumble against my ear. _Wait._ That was...

"Wallace?" A thick blanket fell to my lap as I struggled to open my eyes, pulling back from his chest.

He grinned as light washed over his features, courtesy of the highway. "Feeling better?"

"Yeah," I muttered, running my fingers through the tangles in my hair. "What happened?"

"You don't remember?" Cole craned his neck back to glance over the driver's seat. "Wallace was at the gates of hell, and you made a deal with the devil."

"Nicholas," Clara chided beside him.

Their voices fell into the background as all-too-familiar memories began to seep into mind. "Wallace," I whispered, and felt at his damp, bloodied shirt. "You're—"

"Fine," he reassured me, covering my hand with his own. "Do you remember what happened?"

The SUV hummed soft vibrations through my body. "You were..." A lump formed in my throat. "Dying." _Oh God._ Everything was going to catch up with me here, where I couldn't escape.

"Yeah, but you didn't let me."

I bit my lip to keep it from trembling. "I was scared."

"I know," he murmured, easing me into his arms. "I'm sorry."

I shook my head. "No, I'm sorry. If I hadn't rushed out like that..."

"Stop." He turned to me, his eyes glowing with suppressed intensity. "If it weren't for me, you wouldn't have been in that position to begin with."

I frowned at him. "There was nothing you could've done."

"We get it," Cole groaned. "You guys lived. You're both sorry. It's over. Let's focus on what we're going to do now."

"Hold on." I leaned forward. "First, I want to know what happened. How did she reverse it?"

"Faye's gift is more emotive than she would have most believe." Clara turned around, and the light from the display outlined her sagging features. "Just as her right eye conjures a dangerous manifestation of darker emotions—her left eye seeks positivity and light, using them to heal and restore. In this case, she drew upon your feelings for each other to heal your wounds."

It was unnerving to think one person—one twisted, crazy person—was capable of such power. "Then the scars..."

"You know, the first time she invoked the darker part of her ability, we were just teenagers," Clara explained. "She was upset over something or another and it lashed out, burning the skin around her eye. She swore then and there, she'd never use it again. It wasn't worth trying to control. The risk was too high." A moment slipped by, and she let out a heavy sigh. "It seems much has changed since then."

"Are you okay, Clara?" I asked. Yesterday, she thought her sister was dead. Now she was not only alive, but hell-bent on forcing Clara to witness her revolution—a scheme I now had a part in. That had to be tough on her.

It was tough on me.

"Oh, I'll be fine, dear." She tried to smile. "What's important is that you kids are all right."

I felt Wallace's heartbeat beneath my palm and nodded, taking a deep breath. _Thank God._ "How long was I out?"

"Like, half an hour," Cole cut in, glancing over his shoulder as he switched lanes and slowed for the exit. "We got there just as the fog started rolling over your bodies. Creepy as hell, I swear. Wallace just sat up like nothing was wrong and you...well, you passed out."

My face flushed with embarrassment. That explained why my wrist didn't hurt anymore. "Oh."

"I heard most of the story after you guys caught up to everyone in the other lot," he continued.

"Everyone?" I asked, tilting my head.

Cole nodded. "Gail had been hiding in the brush nearby. I guess she was the one holding Wallace in mental-paralysis until you showed up. Chick looked like she was about to fall flat on her face. Must've really exhausted herself using that ability all night."

He paused for a moment and gave a bark of laughter. "Actually, it was probably from those two trying to drag Wallace's big ass up the hill. Can you picture that?"

I snickered and shook my head. "Okay, so what? We came back together, like nothing happened?"

"Wallace was still spaced out, carrying you over his shoulder so he wouldn't break you." Cole glanced in the rearview mirror and grinned. "Gail's boyfriend, what's-his-face, came running out of the forest when we got near the cars. He was all crazy, saying you'd kicked him in the nuts and ran off. It was awesome."

My face kicked up another ten degrees. "I didn't have time to deal with him."

"Uh huh..."

Even Clara laughed as we drifted into some kind of business district, weaving through traffic. "It was quite a display."

I scrubbed a hand down my face and stifled a groan. "Then what happened?"

"Faye and I had words." The humor slipped from her aged features as she turned to look out the window. "I know you probably hate her, but I lost my sister once—I wasn't ready to lose her again. She said she was sorry for the rift that had come between us and asked that I support her movement."

"And what did you say?"

She leaned back. "I told her I wouldn't know how I felt about it, until I saw the fruits of her labor. I know she's overly zealous in her beliefs, but somewhere, beneath that hardened exterior...my sister's in there. The one I've been missing all these years."

"We don't blame you." Wallace finally spoke up, the low timbre of his voice reverberating against my hand. "Things are changing, and we're all going to have to decide our involvement in this matter individually. You don't have to justify anything to us."

Slowly, she peered around her seat, studying him with dewy eyes. "Sometimes I swear you sound so much like your father."

Sadness, left dormant for too many years, rippled inside my chest— _his again_. I looked up and he turned away, staring out the other window.

"What about me?" Cole piped up, slowing as he bumped his turn signal.

"You're a special young man, Nicholas."

His voice rose. "What's that supposed to mean?"

My heart nearly sighed with relief when Wallace chuckled under his breath.

"So, wait," I said. "Is someone going to explain the freaky glow thing to me, or what?"

"Glow thing?" Clara leaned around the seat again. "What do you mean, dear?"

I opened and shut my mouth, pausing to look up at Wallace. "Well, I..."

He was careful to avoid my gaze. "I was going to wait and discuss that in private."

"Discuss what?" Cole was interested now, tilting his head back as he drove. "What happened?"

"I'm not entirely sure," Wallace admitted. "Rena has always had this... _effect_ on me."

"Yeah, it's called an erection, jackass. What does she mean by the freaky glow thing?"

"Nicholas!" Clara's sharp reprimand had him sitting up straighter, paying attention to the road. "I don't care how tired we all are. You do not speak that way in the presence of women."

"Sorry."

"What I meant was..." Wallace's tone held the slightest edge as he continued, "Since the day we met, she's been augmenting my power."

"What?" I leaned back. "You never said anything."

"It was something I figured out last night." He lifted his shoulder in a shrug behind me. "I mean, look at what a hard time I've had controlling myself around you...and how quickly I became attuned to your feelings. Something about you strengthens my abilities."

"Oh, great," I muttered. "Strength. Just what you need."

"Just what any of us needs," Cole chimed in, casting another glance over his shoulder. "I figured I was imagining it, but things slow down around you. I'm faster. I can feel it."

I ran a hand through my hair and grabbed a fistful at the end. "So, what does this mean? I have a weird effect on everyone in your bloodline?"

"It's possible," Clara began in a soft voice, her brows drawing together. "I noticed a subtle shift in atmosphere when you showed up on my porch the other night, but you were already so overwhelmed..."

Cole grunted. "Okay, this is all very fascinating, but what does Rena being a supercharger have to do with the freaky glow thing? I still want to hear about that."

"Nothing, apparently," Wallace mumbled. "I thought it was the reason she was able to project my power."

Clara froze. "Rena tapped into your abilities?"

Wallace nodded. "When I was lying there, trying to stay awake, I felt this pull. It was cold, like a wave crashing from me to her. Everything was bright."

He paused, and then shook his head. "I've never even attempted what she did. She just, sort of, threw whatever she'd gathered at Faye. It forced some kind of connection."

"That's when I started to sense her feelings," I finished for him, trying to make sense of it all. "That's why her own smoke attacked her. You were evoking her dark emotions."

"You were," he corrected, rubbing his jaw. "Through me...somehow."

I stared into the darkness surrounding our feet and swallowed. "Maybe the Nexus...?"

"The same thought crossed my mind," Clara said, turning back to face the front. "And it would explain why my sister seemed so obsessed with studying your bond."

Cole nodded, but oddly enough, didn't have anything to add.

"So, where are we going?" I changed the subject, too uncomfortable to dwell on what'd transpired with everyone in the car. Wallace had been right—too right—when he'd said the bond would change me. _What_ was I now?

"We figured it was too late to drive back, so we're going to spend the night in a hotel," Wallace explained. "We'll ride back and get the cars in the morning."

I felt my brows pull tight. "But what if they're there, waiting to jump us or something?"

Cole gave a snort of laughter from the front seat. "I doubt it."

"Why?" I asked him, feeling like I'd missed something.

"Well, apparently Faye devised that whole mess at the end, after she saw your mark. She said she wanted to test the 'bond forged of legend' or some dumb shit like that. Of course, the two little minions started gloating about their success and Wallace got pissed, so he threw their car."

"Language," Clara muttered, rubbing her forehead.

I blinked. "He what?"

"He freakin' marched over to their car, reached under the bumper, and flipped the damn thing over." Cole barely edged the words out through his laughter, whipping into the hotel parking lot. "It was hilarious. You would've died."

"Where was I?" I asked.

"He'd already laid you in the backseat."

I turned to Wallace, raising one eyebrow. "You threw their cars?"

Even in the darkness, I saw a blush stain his cheeks as he looked away. "Just one of them. I was...frustrated."

I laughed. I couldn't help it. The notion was ridiculous, and he looked adorable trying to play it off. "Geez. Now I feel lucky you only dented mine."

He winced and stole a glance at me out of the corner of his eye. "Sorry."

Cole swung into a parking space, still trying to get a grip on his laughter. "I told you she'd see it!"

We were all tired and in various stages of slap-happiness; it seemed understandable.

As we got out and made our way inside, I noticed something. Actually, it was the absence of something—anxiety. It felt so natural to be in their company, despite the fact that they were supernatural beings, and I was...well, me.

Cole covered the arrangements, and I didn't argue—neither did the lone ten dollar bill in my pocket. I didn't want to sleep in the SUV.

Soon, we were checked in and sweeping down a long hallway that smelled like chlorine. "I don't suspect it will be all that bad, you know," Clara whispered, sidling up beside me. "Faye said she wants to note the changes your body undergoes as a result of the Nexus. That's the only study you've agreed to. Remember that."

I tried, in vain, to straighten my damp, blood-soaked jacket. "Oh, um, thanks."

"And I'll be there with you," a low voice muttered overhead. I could practically feel Wallace's presence behind me as we came to a stop beside two rooms. A chill shot up my spine and I shuddered, praying Clara hadn't noticed.

"Grandma, which room do you and Rena want?" Cole asked.

Clara snatched the keycard from his hand and gave it to Wallace. "Don't be silly. We can't separate them, after everything they've been through."

_Oh God._ The woman was getting that look in her eye again. Mrs. Claus meets Yente the Matchmaker.

"Besides, we wouldn't want anyone"—she shot Wallace a pointed stare—"worrying and coming through the door in the middle of the night."

Wallace turned eighteen shades of red and crammed the card into the slot. "That's fine." When the light turned green, he twisted the handle and bumped the door open with his hip. "Cole, I'll settle up with you tomorrow."

His humiliation poured out in waves, but I did my best to keep a static expression.

"That's cool." Cole heaved a sigh and opened the door to the room he would share with his grandmother. Sure, there were twin beds, but that was still going to be hella awkward. I almost felt bad for him. _Almost_.

"Hey, um..." I paused in the hallway, as they made their way inside. "Thanks, you guys. I, uh..." What was I doing? Making a speech? "Never mind. Just thanks." I smiled, and Clara winked at me.

"We'll see you in the morning, dear." _That was code, wasn't it?_

Cole reached out and mussed my already-messy hair. "Night, sis."

I shook my head and followed Wallace into our room. "Night."

#  CHAPTER 50

I practically floated across the room, lost in a hazy cloud of rose-scented steam. My hair was clean, my legs were soft and, for a moment, I forgot I was clad in nothing but a big, fluffy towel.

Our clothes were hung over the curtain bar, dangling overtop the heater. It was on full blast, but it didn't seem to be doing much in the way of drying. We'd just have to hope they'd be done by morning. Until then, we had no choice but to make do with what we had.

I adjusted my towel and padded across the carpet.

Wallace was lying on his back with his eyes closed and his arms tucked behind his head. The worry lines had faded from his brow, softening his features. In the dim light, he could almost pass for vulnerable.

Crisp, white sheets were bunched at his waist, making me wonder if he'd even bothered with the towel. I'd never been artistically inclined, but the sight of him lying there shirtless was enough to give a girl inspiration. In more ways than one.

I shifted from one foot to the other, nervously hovering between our beds. It was the first time we'd really been alone together since the dust had settled. After everything that'd happened, I didn't know how to act.

"Hey," I whispered, bending down. "Are you asleep?"

He didn't stir. "Yes."

"Oh." I started to pull away and froze when I realized what he was saying. "Shut up."

A beautiful grin curved his lips and he reached out, blindly pulling me onto the bed. My body didn't have a chance to react to his _gentle_ urging. I sprawled out across his chest, barely keeping my towel together. "Wallace!"

He laughed, and I relaxed against him. It seemed like it'd been forever since I'd heard such a comforting sound.

"What?" He opened his eyes.

"Don't scare me like that," I mumbled, moving to his side. We both leaned in, posed like gossiping teenagers at a slumber party. "I thought you were asleep."

"Yes, because I always sleep so well when you're overwhelmed." He raised an accusing eyebrow and rested his hand on my hip. "Are you still worried about them coming after us or something? I can—"

I shook my head. "No, I was just thinking."

"About what?" He shifted to lean on one arm, looking into my eyes. "Did something happen?" The intensity crept back into his gaze as he studied me. "When I was captured—"

"Nothing happened," I assured him, smoothing a hand up his chest. "I was just..." I wanted to laugh at myself for how stupid I felt. "I was just embarrassed that I gave in like that, at the end."

As expected, his brows furrowed at my words.

"What could you do at that point? If you hadn't made that deal, I wouldn't be here. _You_ probably wouldn't be here. How could you feel bad about that?"

My towel rode up, and I felt a bruise kneading into the small of my back as he tried to comfort me. Progress, at least.

"I know you're right, but..." I trailed off as my stomach twisted into knots. Could I really say it out loud this time? "I feel like we're in some kind of race against the clock now, trying to stop this thing with Faye before it starts, and I'm just slowing you guys down. There's no way I'll ever be able to keep up with you. Any of you. That power tonight was borrowed." I took a deep breath, feeling better and worse at the same time. "I guess it's just hard for me to find my place in all of this."

"Rena..." His concern blanketed me in sympathetic warmth, and I looked away. How could I stare down such a helpless reflection in his eyes? We were both in a fragile state of exhaustion, and I'd let it get to me. Of course he pitied me for my limitations. I didn't need to bring it up again.

"Hey," he whispered, softening his voice as he angled to meet my gaze. "Your place is with me. That's all that matters."

"So, I'm just supposed to let you protect me forever?" I asked, letting the injustice well up inside me. It wasn't fair that I had to depend on him for everything, because of what I'd been born into. Or, in this case, what I hadn't been born into.

With a look of sheer incredulity, he laid his arm down and sank onto his pillow. "Are you serious? I'll be lucky to keep up with you trying to protect me."

"What?"

"Who took out Gail and Maverick tonight?" he asked, as if patiently awaiting my understanding.

I let out a slow breath. "I get what you're trying to say, but that wasn't anything compared to what you guys can do, and you know it."

I couldn't believe he was forcing me to admit it aloud. It felt like I was rubbing salt into my own wounds.

"Oh, so it wasn't impressive because you used your fists and knees, instead of some big display of power?" His lips formed a thin line. "I'm sorry, but I'm not going to listen to you pity yourself for being human."

I recoiled. Did he have to say it like that? It was mortifying.

"You're the strongest, most beautiful woman I've ever known, Rena." He spoke each word with reverence and careful articulation. "You don't need to feel inferior to anyone. Ever. Okay? I don't care if you borrow my power or use your own. Just watch my back, and I'll watch yours. That's all we need to get through this."

Tears burned my eyes, but I didn't let them fall. God, what had I done to deserve his understanding? He was right. I was being ridiculous and insecure. "Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me. It's the truth." He visibly relaxed, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. "Though, you're welcome to thank me in any way you see fit."

I rolled my eyes and leaned forward, kissing his cheek. "Thank you."

He looked thoughtful at that, tensing in concentration.

"What?"

"I'm trying to think of something else I can say, for you to thank me."

I smacked his arm. He was worse than Cole. "Try focusing on something important, like what we should do."

"About what?"

"About everything!" _Geez._ Was he trying to exasperate me?

He went on, unshaken, "Well, tomorrow we'll go back to campus, and you can return whoever's car you borrowed or hotwired or—"

"Funny," I said, making a face. "It's Aiden's. He let me borrow it."

A humorless smile was lost to his eyes. "Great. He'll have more reason to hate me, after he finds out what you borrowed it for."

"He doesn't hate you." Honestly, how could he even think that? Aiden was a cute little pacifist. Sure, he was easily intimidated and prone to blowing things out of proportion, but malicious? Not even close.

Wallace gave me a look that said he knew more than he'd been letting on.

I tilted my head. "What?"

"What're you going to tell your friends about tonight?" he asked, changing the subject.

I didn't want to lie. I'd just have to find a way to omit the important parts, while staying beneath the umbrella of truth again.

"I'll be vague," I said. "We were out of town because you had some tragic, personal matters to attend to. We stayed with your family afterward. The end."

"Lying by omission?"

"Does it count as lying when it's none of their concern, and the omission is to protect them?"

He mulled it over. "I guess not."

"Speaking of which," I continued. "What're we going to do about Faye?"

It took him longer to respond this time. "I guess we have no choice but to wait until she contacts you and go from there." He worked the muscles in his jaw. "But don't worry about it. We're in this together. I'll be with you every step of the way."

I wish I could've taken solace in his words and left it at that, but there was still too much left on my mind. "Do you think she's given up trying to recruit us?"

He let out a deep breath. "I think she's switching tactics. She's too analytical to kill us without understanding the threat we posed in that vision."

"And once she figures it out?"

"We'll worry about that when the time comes."

How could he be so calm about everything? "What about this movement they're trying to start?" I asked. "Isn't it dangerous? Don't you think we're going to have to do something about it?"

"I have no doubt in my mind we will, but until the time comes..." He pressed his lips to my forehead, calming the anxiety that threatened to spill over. "Don't try to take the weight of the world on your shoulders."

The fatigue was starting to catch up with me. I melted against him, squeezing my eyes shut. "What if I take it on anyway? What if I can't help myself?"

"Then I'll carry it for you."

I sighed, slipping my hand up along his cheek. "I know you will."

"Not that you'll let me," he mumbled, ducking his head down. His dark hair, still slightly damp, stuck every which way.

My brows stitched together. "What do you mean by that?"

He didn't say anything.

"Hey..." I scooted until our bodies were flush against each other, separated by a sweltering barrier of Egyptian cotton. "What's wrong?"

Again, he didn't reply, and I felt a small pang of worry.

"Wallace," I urged, placing a soft kiss at the crook of his neck. "Talk to me." I moved upward, feeling his pulse pound fast and strong against my lips. My own rhythm quickened in response, as I kissed a warm trail to his jaw line. "Please."

He shuddered, and there was no masking his reaction against me. "Sorry," he murmured and pulled his hand away from its place at my hip. "What were you saying?"

We were dizzyingly close as he turned to look at me, less than a breath away. My heart hammered against my chest at his expression. "I-It doesn't matter now."

For a second, I thought I'd caught a glimpse of forever in his eyes—beautiful and just out of reach. I leaned in, unnerved and entranced at the same time. It all made sense now. What my mother had meant when she said when I fell in love, I would just know.

I knew.

I finally freakin' knew.

It resonated in my heart and pulsed through my veins. Wallace had caused something to change within me, and I hadn't even realized it. "I...love you," I whispered, still in shock.

Sure, I'd yelled it before in desperation—trying to force my feelings to save him—but it hadn't been the same. This was the gritty, sick to your stomach, kind of confession that left you empty and whole at the same time. I couldn't begin to describe it.

The band on my arm burned. I wanted more than tonight, more than forever. The joy, the pain, and everything in between. I wanted that.

With painstaking care, he cupped the side of my face and stroked his thumb over my cheek. "I love you, too." The moment hung in the air as he stared into my eyes, before pressing his lips to mine—a loving prelude to the life I knew we'd both been imagining. Maybe it would never come to pass, but it was a delusion worth paying homage to.

I lay there breathing in his scent, memorizing the hard contours of his chest with my hands. Our worlds were blending into one, and I was doing everything in my power to savor it. We both knew it wouldn't last long.

Wallace couldn't quell his anxiety. Each skin-searing touch carried an undercurrent of guilt neither one of us could ignore. Soon, we'd be forced to part, too tired to push any boundaries.

I didn't mind, though. As much as I hated to admit it, I knew it would be better for both of us in the long run. We had to work up to that level of trust—not just in each other, but in his ability to control his strength. Until then, we'd have to cherish what we had. What we'd already worked up to.

He smiled against my mouth and pulled away. "We'd probably better..."

"Yeah." I carefully extracted myself from his possession, clutching the towel to my chest as I stood. "Goodnight, Wallace."

Wistful eyes traced my every move as he leaned toward the nightstand, a shaky sigh escaping his lips. "Goodnight."

I had barely pulled the sheets up around my chest, when something shattered and the room plunged into darkness. _Don't tell me._ "Wallace?"

"Yeah?"

"Are we going to have to pay for a light in the morning?"

"No." He hesitated for a moment. "But Cole is."

I couldn't keep the laughter from spilling out, shaking the mattress. A few seconds ticked by and he joined me, snickering under his breath at the ridiculousness of our situation. We lay there in the dark, laughing like we hadn't just escaped death, like we wouldn't have to cheat it again tomorrow and every day after.

Maybe Wallace was right about the bond. It did change me—for the better.

All because I fell in love with a madman.

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#  GLOSSARY - END OF BOOK 1

**Aiden Ross** —human; Rena and Gabby's best friend; Josh's roommate; Wallace's suitemate

**André "Jinx" Jenkins** —human; Maverick's roommate; Gabby's one night stand

**Cass Winters** —human; Rena and Gabby's suitemate; a character we're unlikely to see again

**Clara Blake** —Dynari; gifted with empathy; Wallace and Cole's grandmother; Faye's sister; Gail's great-aunt

**Dynari** —a bloodline of individuals with various supernatural abilities; origin unknown

**ERA** —(Evolution Requires Action) Faye's project to forcibly evolve humans

**Faye Tobler** —Dynari; gifted with searing and rejuvenating smoke; Clara's sister; Gail's grandmother; Wallace and Cole's great-aunt

**Foster Hall** —the dormitory where Maverick and Jinx live

**Gabriela "Gabby" Hernandez** —human; Rena and Aiden's best friend; Rena's roommate; Maverick's fling

**Gail Frasier** —Dynari; gifted with visions and mental manipulation; Clara's great-niece; Wallace and Cole's cousin; Maverick's girlfriend

**(Johan) Maverick** —human working for ERA; Gail's boyfriend; Gabby's fling; Jinx's roommate

**Josh Noll** —human; Aiden's roommate; Wallace's suitemate

**Lexie Moretti** —human; waitress at Sam's Diner

**Mark of Nexus** —a tattoo once thought to be legend, signifying the rarest and most powerful of alliances

**Nicholas "Cole" Blake** —Dynari; gifted with super speed and health regeneration; Wallace's twin brother; Clara's grandson; Faye's great-nephew; Gail's cousin

**Rachel Ranford** —human; Wallace's friend; Rena's temporary rival

**Reid Hall** —the dormitory where Rena, Gabby, Cass, Aiden, Josh, and Wallace live

**Rena Collins** —heroine; Wallace's girlfriend; Gabby and Aiden's best friend; Gabby's roommate

**Sam Moretti** —human; owner of Sam's Diner

**Scion, Ohio** —Wallace's suburban hometown

**Unidentified State Park** —the perfect place for a supernatural throw-down

**Wallace Blake** —hero; Dynari; gifted with super strength and empathy; Rena's boyfriend; Cole's twin brother; Clara's grandson; Faye's great-nephew; Gail's cousin

**Wilcox, Ohio** —a small town in the snowbelt; home to Wilcox College

#  SNEAK PEEK - COURAGE  
(MARK OF NEXUS #2)

**Rena**

"Almost there," I coaxed, stumbling on my tiptoes as I struggled to keep my boyfriend's eyes covered.

Wallace grunted and bent back so I could reach as we walked. "Is this really necessary?"

"I want it to be a surprise." I frowned, shoving my breasts against his back in an attempt to get closer. So logistics weren't my strong suit. We'd still make it there. "Just a few more steps."

"That's what you said before we ran into the water fountain."

I rolled my eyes and leaned around his arm to see how close we were. "Are you still going on about that?"

He came to a halt in the middle of the hallway, blindly tilting his head back to address me. "Baby, if you had nuts, you'd be going on about it, too."

I slipped my hands back, over his shoulders, and gave him a hard shove. "If I had nuts, we'd have bigger problems than this."

"Funny."

Of course, he didn't budge.

Wallace is a Dynari—a mortal being with supernatural abilities—and his major gift is strength. Ridiculous, accidentally-bruising strength. For the past two months, we've been trying to rein it in, but it hasn't been an easy task. Whenever he loses focus or can't keep a grip on his emotions, hours upon hours of practice go right out the window.

Oh, and apparently I make it worse.

Something about me augments his abilities. His, and everyone else's who carries the Dynari bloodline—which is perfect, given that half of them are batshit insane.

"Can I open my eyes now?" he asked, jarring me from my thoughts.

I leaned sideways and spotted the bulletin board a few feet away. "Yeah, go ahead."

He scanned the hallway, completely missing the lone flyer tacked to the center.

_Men..._

I sidled up beside him and nodded toward the neon green paper. "Check it out."

Following my gaze, he took a step forward and snatched the sheet off the wall. "A dance?"

"Not just any dance," I corrected, pointing at the bottom. "Half of the proceeds go to fund medical research..."

The light swept raven hues over his hair as he jerked his chin back, eyes wide. "Research on clusters? How? Why?"

I could understand his confusion. Hardly anyone on campus knew what cluster headaches were, let alone wanted to donate money toward their research. Hell, I didn't even know what they were until we met in January. Back then, everyone thought Wallace was some kind of madman. They heard the screams and thuds coming from his room every night and assumed the worst—we all did. But we were wrong.

"I have a friend in charge of one of the sororities," I told him. "Alpha...chai latte or something. Anyway, she was looking to adopt a cause to help bury some hazing rumors—you know, before someone decides to investigate and revoke their charter—so I gave her the name of a deserving nonprofit."

He stared at the paper in disbelief. "You did this...for me?"

"Well, yeah." I squirmed, and the band on my arm cinched tighter and tighter. "Should I not have?"

Despite his superior genetic makeup, Wallace has been a sufferer for years now. Every night at eight thirty, he bangs his head against the floor and writhes in pain like he'd rather blow his brains out than suffer another minute of it. His strength is gone for the better part of an hour, and doctors have yet to effectively treat the condition. Was wanting to help him such a bad thing?

Before I could consider it any further, two strong arms pulled me close and the paper fluttered to the floor. "Thank you." The words reverberated against my cheek in a low tenor, bringing with them a swell of emotion.

That was the other weird part of our relationship.

One of Wallace's minor gifts, traced back to his grandmother, is empathy. At any given moment, he could tell you what anyone is feeling. He senses it, feels it in the marrow of his bones, and does his absolute best to ignore it. I guess it gets overwhelming.

My emotions, though—he's locked on those. Just like I, lowly human that I am, somehow channel his. See, once we figured out how we felt about each other, something crazy happened. One minute we were sharing a nightmare, and the next we were both branded with a tribal tat called the Mark of Nexus.

Seriously. I have a dark band around my right bicep that's all jagged lines and slick curves. Mostly, it looks like any other tattoo, but every now and then it shifts like oil on water, a glowing myriad of colors twisting over the surface.

Wallace's is around his left forearm, and it's the exact inverse of mine. Like a negative image. When we stand beside each other, the two join as if they'd been coiled together. Freaky, right? From what I've been told, it's extremely rare. It brands the _rarest and most powerful of alliances_. Whatever that means.

I'm not sure how much of it I believe, but it _did_ allow me to tap into his power when his crazy great-aunt was trying to kill us...

"It means a lot," Wallace mumbled, planting a kiss on top of my head.

I smiled and craned my neck back, practically plastered to his chest as he held me there. "If you want to thank me, find someone to take me to the dance and hang on my arm as eye candy."

"Eye candy, huh?"

"Yeah, it's not like this is high school and I'm going to take some math geek as a pity date," I explained, baiting my favorite accounting major. "I need someone fun to look at."

He regarded me carefully, his cerulean gaze aglow. "And math geeks can't be eye candy?"

"Hmm..." I pretended to mull it over. "I don't know. I guess I wouldn't mind finding out."

The corner of his lips twitched upward. "Is that my cue?"

"You should know by now," I countered and rose up onto my tiptoes.

He met me halfway, his lips brushing mine in the faintest hint of what was to come. "I don't know..."

"Wallace!" I laughed and reached up to jerk on his collar.

He complied, this time crushing his mouth to mine. Everything blurred around us in a chaotic haze as I fell back onto my heels, and he followed the movement, never breaking contact.

I ran my hand over the tight muscles in his shoulder and grabbed a fistful of his t-shirt. We'd been together for almost three months, but every kiss felt like the first time. Magnetic, fiery, wanting. I moaned, and it was all I could do to keep from wrapping my legs around him.

"Rena," he murmured, a smile playing from his lips to mine. "Will you go to the dance with me?"

Butterflies flitted about my stomach in a stupid surge of nerves. We weren't kids, and this dance wasn't a big deal, but the man of my dreams was asking me out. That _was_ a big deal. "I—"

Before I could answer, a flash seared my retinas. My heart kick-started a wild rhythm, and a barrage of garbled, underwater sounds deafened my ears. _What the hell?_ I blinked, struggling to clear my vision, but it was no use. Each bat of my lashes brought his face in and out of focus, like two different images were fighting for dominance.

"Rena?"

I squeezed my eyes shut, inadvertently granting the other side just the power it needed to break through. _A vision?_ Panic set in, and the world went black.

**AVAILABLE NOW!**

#  The Mark of Nexus Series

**STRENGTH (Book #1)**

**COURAGE (Book #2)**

**HONESTY (Book #3)**

**LOYALTY (Book #4)**

#  Other Books by Carrie Butler

**AS WE KNOW IT**

Action / Adventure | Romantic Suspense

Deep beneath the ocean, stretching hundreds of miles alongside the Pacific Northwest coastline, lies the Cascadia subduction zone—a fault on the verge of unleashing a catastrophic earthquake, thirty times more powerful than the San Andreas. Unfortunately, like most tourists, Elena Cordova is oblivious.

She's got her own pent-up stress to deal with, a humiliating breakup that's driven her to end her tenure as a human doormat once and for all. So, when a pickpocket makes off with the last remnant of her relationship, she takes action—only to get trapped with him when disaster strikes.

Now, if either one hopes to survive, they'll have to get past their initial impressions and work together... because in fifteen minutes, half the town will be underwater.

**AVAILABLE NOW!**

#  About the Author

Carrie Butler is an award-winning author and graphic designer. Time away from her desk is spent playing with her dog, yelling at the TV during hockey season, and indulging in various forms of geekery—not to mention wielding a thousand-degree pen!

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www.carrieabutler.com/design

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