 
Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2010 Jamie Magee

All Rights Reserved

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the author.

Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book. This purchase allows you one legal copy for your own personal reading enjoyment on your personal computer or device. You do not have the right to resell, distribute, print or transfer this book, in whole or in part, to anyone, in any format, via methods either currently known or yet to be invented, or upload this book to a file sharing program. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

WHERE TO FIND JAMIE ON LINE

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ONE

EDGE SERIES READING ORDER

Alphas Rise  
Dark Lure  
Sacred Betrayal   
Risen Lovers  
Fall of Kings  
Queens Rise

COMBINED WEB OF HEARTS AND SOULS READING ORDER:

Insight  
Embody  
Image  
Whispers of the Damned  
Witness  
Vital  
Vindicate  
Synergy  
Enflame  
Redefined  
Rivulet  
Imperial  
Blakeshire  
Derive  
Emanate  
Exaltation*  
Disavow

The Witches   
Revolt  
Scorched Souls

*If you are a fan of Adult Paranormal Edge can be read with the Web of Hearts, before of after Exaltation--the stories share the same characters.

INSIGHT READING ORDER:

Insight   
Embody   
Image  
Vital  
Vindicate  
Enflame  
Rivulet  
Imperial  
Blakeshire (Drake's Story)  
Emanate  
Exaltation  
Disavow

SEE READING ORDER:

Whispers of the Damned   
Witness of a Broken Heart  
Synergy of Souls  
Redefined Love Affair   
Derive (Aden's Beginning)  
A Lovers Revolt   
Scorched Souls

CONTEMPORARY NOVELS

Deploy

Disengaged

Impulsion

Friction

Love is a sweet tyranny, because the lover endureth his torments willingly. ~Proverb

I know the answer to a question that's plagued every generation.

Is there life after death...?

We all want to know the answer. At the same time we don't. Fear stops us from absorbing the reality of this query. I'm not talking about heaven or hell. What you believe or what I believe. I don't care to debate myths, ancient or modern. I will not dispute how the mystic has represented itself in every story we recount to the generation that befalls our own.

We all know the unexplained is real. And we all know how to turn our head and go about our busy lives, acting as if the body we haunt is immortal and the crisis of today is more valuable than the state of our soul.

When we lose someone the brutal truth of mortality stills us. It focuses our attention on the moments we let pass as if they were ordinary. Some take this lesson to heart; they change for the better—after their sorrow hurts less, that is. Others don't.

Death touches everyone.

Only few have seen behind the veil that lies between the unknown and us. Some are cursed with this vision. They feel the residual vibration of our ancient world. Some cringe in agony. They draw in as they feel the artic chill of a spirit loom closer. Emotions overtake them. Their senses are stimulated to a point where their minds shape what others cannot see. I've watched 'sensitive souls' channel a spirit so violently that their life were hanging by a thread.

For every cursed soul who cannot ignore the thin veil they sense draping our perception, there are others seeking answers. Hunters—callers. Each of these paranormal investigators can tell you the exact moment when they turned from a skeptic to a believer. Fear resonates in the tone of their voice, the glint in their eyes, how they draw their arms close to their body and stare into nothing. Sometimes I think they hunt to prove to themselves they're not crazy.

I'd imagine very few have convinced themselves they were mistaken. The truth is, the more you look, the more you see. When you open a door, the unknown will step through. Like in our world, the wicked show the least shyness. I've found most of those beings are petrified. When death came they rooted themselves in our plane of existence fearing the hell they were sure their acts deemed them worthy for. No one wants that kinda zip code.

For them, forming attachments to dwellings, artifacts, people—they adore paranormal hunters almost as much as sensitive souls—it means survival.

I'm not a sensitive or a hunter calling out to the dead, not really.

They called me.

I can't recall a time when I didn't notice the dead. Even before I started to look for others like my crew and myself I knew I was different. I knew to act as if I never perceived the hidden world lacing through my own.

My crew...

Two of my best friends and the guy I knew was cut from my soul have always been there. Our families were friends and had lived through their own tragedies long before we were ever an idea.

My crew is like me.

Kinda, at least. We all hear the darkest of souls whisper around us. We've all found our own way to deal with it. When we call out to the dead, when we glare down the darkness—we never see—sense the same thing. Madison sees and feels the emotions of the souls, she knows what kind of shade they're throwing—what they really mean. Aden sees every missed chance to the path of righteousness the souls feel was robbed from them. His twin, my guy, Draven, sees the evil corners of the damned—he feels the torment of the damned and its victims—every moment that shocked the soul, or lead to it.

I see it all. I can absorb an entire life in a glimpse.

We say what we see, the highlights at least, a word here or there. If the damned don't want to be, if they take a second to remember they were not meant to be, they'll move on when they hear us.

For a long time we only watched. Spirits hate that. I can't blame them. No one likes to be ignored. I'm pretty sure it was sometime right after puberty they attacked first. They knew then that we'd passed the threshold of awareness childhood gives us all, and we were still staring them down, daring not to tremble—even when the room was so cold our breath fogged from our lips and our skin hurt from the layers of chills.

This attack destroyed more than our innocence, it forced us to tell our parents what we could do. I often ponder if they were surprised at all. It's so hard to know, especially with my mom. She's a pro at staying busy with her all too important career. She likes to point out how she's a single mom and I should be grateful for all she's done for me. I don't talk about the dead with her. I know better.

It hasn't been an easy road since the first attack. Every day I felt something drawing closer and every single day I felt less prepared for it. No matter how much research I did, I came up with more questions. When I couldn't find answers in the lore recorded in myths across the globe I turned to the damned. The more ancient of a damned soul I crossed, the longer I held on to them.

Mostly my crew and me see the life the damned lived in their mortal body. Rarely do they show us what they see and know now. By accident a year or so ago, I saw into the life the damned lived as a spirit. Masses of spirits were pushing against the space between them and us. The spirit I helped witnessed others being obliterated. They turned into a mist and then drew into a current of air, vanishing like something inhaled them. The vibe around the most feared souls was drenched in shock as they all shrank back. I sensed something powerful looming around them—herding them like cattle, farming them for the only possession they had—their vim, the dwindling energy of their souls.

What could make the damned quiver? This was my question and my quest. I never openly said it, or really explained what I saw. I didn't have to.

My crew and me see more than the lives of the dead. We can see into the lives of the living too. It's easier when we do it by accident, when we just go with what our gut tells us about someone around our space. When we try, to really peer into someone, it's hard to believe you're really seeing their life and not something your overactive imagination made up. When you ask if what you saw is legit—it freaks people out, you get that whole 'how did you know that?' look that makes you feel like a creep.

Most times, we don't ask. I don't know about the others, but I really don't 'look' unless it's the first time I meet someone. Once I decide they're cool, or if I want them to keep steppin' I try not to look again. I mean, I'm pretty much invading their personal space when I do.

With my crew, if I'm worried about them, I look. If they want me to see what's up, they'll leave their walls down long enough for me to see what they can't say.

I'd left my walls down, at least halfway, when I started to wonder why it felt like no matter how many souls we helped we never seemed to cleanse an area—not even the ones we went to every day. I silently invited my crew in on this discussion topic. When I started to find answers I had no choice but to slowly raise my wall higher every day.

I'd broken a cardinal rule. I opened a door and left it unguarded. I sought an enemy I wasn't ready to understand. One I wasn't equipped to defend myself from.

This tragic mistake stole everything from me.

They tried to erase me. I know that now, but I didn't when I found myself in the ER...ago.

Is there life after death...?

Yes. Only someone wants me to forget there is, or rather, become petrified of those who lurk there.

# SIX Days Ago

My skin chilled over. I knew that sound. It was my curse, the whispers of the damned. It was lurking in the shadows of my ER room daring to explode from the darkness. Like crickets on a summer night, they hummed louder when my attention fell on them.

I never should've trusted Bianca. 'No big deal—just a few people. Your mom will never know.'

Why did I give in to her?

I had a reason. I had a plan. Somehow my plan went wrong—really wrong. Obviously, I'm in an ER, and my mother was very aware a party went down. What reason? What plan? Hate and love for Bianca went to war inside of me.

I wanted my headphones. I needed my music. It was my weapon against the blaring whispers—against life in general. They've never been this loud. I was pretty much forced to read my mom and the doctor's lips.

I reached my hands to my ears rubbing them. If someone told me I'd just spent hours beside a blaring amp at a metal concert—I'd believe them. The separation between the real world and me, the bubbling echo of the whispers, was unreal.

The doctor shined her light in my ear once she drew my hand away. My mother stood up a little straighter; a glint of warning hit her eyes as she glanced to me then said something to the doctor.

Did I go to a concert?

No. I was home.

Logic told me the pit in my gut that was twisting as it sunk lower was because I was in trouble. I have the strictest, most overprotective mother ever and I pulled the classic 'party at my house' gig. Logic also said I shouldn't hear whispers others couldn't hear. I might've been in trouble with my mom, but I was pretty damn sure she was the least of my worries right about then. Not knowing what you're petrified of puts the word anxious in all caps.

Rewind, rewind, my mind wouldn't listen. I couldn't get it to backtrack, and when I did—I denied what it showed me. It felt too fake.

Why did I have a party? Graduation, yeah that's happening. Wait. This approaching day felt epic to me, beyond the obvious reasons. Why?

A shooting pain sliced through my head and in the next beat I remembered sitting on my bed with Bianca, listening to music. She started to talk about our summer trip to Cancun...

Cancun? Was I going to Cancun with her?

No, no way.

If this was a legit memory, I wasn't going. The beach sounded like an atrocious idea. I don't know why, it was like I was too wrapped up in something to take chill time. I didn't know what—exams were done. I didn't have a job or anything.

This. Sucks.

I let out a frustrated breath then scooted toward the end of the table to climb off so I could get my hoodie—headphones, aka my sanity, were in the pocket. A wave of dizziness and a searing pain in my head caused me to sway.

Okay, maybe this was a bad idea, I thought.

The dark whispers laugh at me. Asses.

They started to chant my name like this was a rock concert and they were waiting on my next big move. I was out of moves, and out of tolerance.

I closed my eyes and tried to remember a sound, one with a screaming guitar, one that could take me away. The second I had one playing in my head, my fingers began to move against the table like I'd magically learned to play music and knew what I was doing.

As my mind chilled I thought back over my short, now over, friendship with Bianca. She was kicked out of some private school and landed in my school in the last semester of senior year. The chick had every single class with me, her locker was below mine, and her parking space was next to mine.

She was a triple threat to any girl: beautiful, seductive, and smart in a manipulative kind of way. If I had a guy there'd be no way I'd let her land in his zip code. That is exactly why Bianca setting me up with her guy friend Britain was a no go. One day, very soon, Bianca was going to figure out I mean what I say when I say it. Her stubborn determination to get Britain and me to hook up was the plot behind the party that landed me here.

He was an all right guy, I guess. Britain was easy on the eyes, athletic, and filthy rich. His edges were a little too polished for me.

Another sharp pain sliced through my head. The thought of Britain being an 'all right guy' crashed into a vision of a stranger with jade eyes laced in black, my heart thundered as they stoically stared back at me like I was the creator of their destruction.

Get it together, Charlie, I scolded myself.

For an instant I felt isolated, on the outs with my mom and the two people who had lingered the closest to my life over the last few months. Then I thought of Madison. She didn't live in the city, but our hometown, Salem. We talked every day through text, face time, posts, all the ways possible. When we could she'd come here or I'd go there. We'd been tight since before we knew how to talk.

Maybe I was channeling her 'hater' vibe when it came to Bianca. Madison couldn't fake it—if she thought you were a poser, you knew. I needed to call her. I'd heard my mom on the phone with hers a bit ago. We usually took responsibility for each other. Our parents knew that. Madison was probably in as much trouble as I was even though she wasn't at the 'party' that turned out to be Bianca and Britain and a few guys I'd never seen before. They'd blame Madison for not saying something. At the very least they'd make her feel guilty as hell. I'd been drugged. If my mom hadn't of showed when she did—I can't say for sure what would've happened to me. I can't even say what DID happen to me.

I don't know where whoever put whatever drug. I just knew that I was never—ever—going to put my guard down again.

The doctor gave up on looking for something in my ears or a reason I kept rubbing them, she moved her small flashlight to my eyes, then she listened to my heart and had me take in deep breaths.

"Do you have pain in your ears?" the doctor asked me.

"Just my head," I said under my breath.

The doctor put her tools away. "That's normal. I'm sure everything is a little foggy right now. It'll take a few days to completely overcome this experience. You need to stay hydrated and get substantial rest. I'll schedule a follow up with your primary in a week."

The doctor entered a few notes into her computer then looked at my mom. "I'll look at the test results again before I send the file to her doctor, but I do not think she ingested very much. The effect on her was powerful because she's so petite."

I rolled my eyes, like I could help it that I was short.

"I'm going to let her go home..." the doctor said, looking at me again. "Are you sure there isn't anything else troubling you?"

I heard the whispers laugh. My cheeks blushed.

"She's not acting like herself," my mom said. "Could these drugs have affected anything else— caused permanent damage? Is she going to remember tonight?"

"It's hard to say," the doctor said as her eyes filled with sympathy. "Our mind has a way of blocking out trauma. I assure you, her body wasn't assaulted. The others that were with her are suffering from the same ailments. Keep her in routine. With your follow up you can speak to your primary about counseling." She eyed me. "Sometimes 'almost trauma' resonates as deeply as transpired trauma. You're a lucky girl. Don't test fate twice, protect yourself out there."

She was acting like I was at a bar and let someone buy me a drink. I was at home, with people I knew. I grimaced when I realized that was her point. I was living in a generation where trust was a luxury afforded to few.

When the doctor ducked behind the sheet that divided me from the rest of the ER, I scooted off the table, pulling the IV with me. I wanted my headphones and clothes, and I wasn't going to wait for some nurse to finish her coffee break and decide to take it out of me.

"Sit down," my mother said firmly.

She walked over to the chair and picked up my skirt and top and tossed them at me. I slid them on then reached for my hoodie, pulling my phone and headphones out.

"Have I not taught you anything?" she asked, reaching to turn the volume down before crossing her arms as she loomed over me.

"You're in trouble now," the shadows taunted.

Anger washed down my expression. "Whatever," I mumbled to them before turning the sound up again.

"Don't 'whatever' me. Do you have any idea how hard I work to give you the life you have, the sacrifices I've made?"

I bit my lip. I knew if I told her that I wasn't talking to her, but to an invisible darkness, she'd think I was insane. I had no choice but to act like I meant to say that to her.

"Heard the speech a few million times," I said dryly. "I guess my dad should've died before he got you pregnant. Then you could've moved on without the burden of me."

My dad died before I took my first breath. His tour bus crashed killing everyone aboard. The crappy part was it was his last tour. My mom loved his talent but hated his lifestyle. For her, for me, he was going to produce music, find the talent—he'd already launched his company. A new life was waiting on him when death stole him from her.

She glared at me with disbelieving eyes. "You...you're us. When I see you I know he's real." She winced. "Charlie what have you gotten yourself into?"

I couldn't help the angry tears that glazed over my eyes. I didn't know.

The nurse walked in and the moment I was free from the IV, I bailed.

"Wait for me in the lobby," mom said as I left.

I pulled the hood up on my hoodie and walked out of the room as fast as I could. The lobby was swarming with people. There was nowhere to stand. The crowd pushed my anxiety button. A sick feeling came over me.

I bolted.

I didn't go very far, just to the entrance where I could feel the air of the sliding doors whoosh by me.

I fumbled with my phone, fighting with my trembling hands. My sister, Kara, had called me three times—the text messages were pages long. Kara was the result of my mom's first heartbreak. Mom had her at seventeen and struggled through school and work, all alone because the guy ditched them. Right when my mom had become a 'responsible adult' and shed the shadow of 'teenage mom' my dad came around. Kara remembers a man I'll never know. The ten years between us pretty much makes her a second mom to me. Most times she was the middle ground mom and me used to communicate even though Kara was in Salem and we were in the city. Kara got us both and did her best to explain where the other stood.

Before I dug myself out of the pit of shame my mother had buried me in I had to check on Madison. I didn't want her burned because of me, of all freaking people, became a victim of peer pressure.

I texted, Are you up?

Madison texted back immediately, Yeah!! I was on my way there but your mom told us to stay here. Are you on your way home??? Wth.

I furrowed my brow, when Madison said 'home' she meant Salem. Why would I go home? It was hours away. I had graduation.

I texted back, Home? What? No. The only place I'm going is to bed.

A second later, my phone rang. It was her.

I answered and said, "Hold on, it's loud in here."

I saw a cop outside the door and figured I'd be safe close to him. It was the dead of night, and a breeze was blowing. As I felt the wind, I saw the shadows across the ground begin to move, almost slither, in my direction. The stress of everything I'd been through tonight supplied the glare I gave them.

"Are you there?" I said as I put my phone to my ear.

"How loud?"

"I was in the lobby of the ER. I couldn't hear over them."

"What did you do? Is it quiet now?" she asked like I was defusing a bomb.

I glanced to the shadows across the ground, hearing their echoing laughs. I tried to remember if talking about this defect of mine with Madison was the norm. How would she not know about them? I wasn't saying anything until I was sure clarity was back.

"Um...I walked outside?"

She hesitated before she spoke. "Your mom said she thinks...she said you're not you. Like you're erased or something."

"My mom said that?" doubt was weighing down every word.

"In your mom's way, she did. I don't know what she walked in on but it scared the hell outta her. She said she asked you to explain but you didn't know what she was talking about."

I squinted my eyes closed. I remember my mom crashing into my bedroom; she pulled me away from Britain. We were...we were on my bed.

I choked down the sick sensation in my throat. No, I couldn't see myself explaining that one to my mom on a good day. What the hell was I doing?

Madison didn't say anything for a minute or two. I thought she was giving me space to fess up but I heard her whispering to someone. I was pretty positive anything I said then could and would be used against me in the court of mom. Madison's mom would relay it all after she sucked every word out of Madison.

"Madison. I'm tired. I'll just call you tomorrow," I said giving us both a way out.

"No. Wait. I think we should come get you. They're talking to your mom. I'm trying to see what she says."

"We? They? What are you talking about? You're not driving two-and-a-half hours in the dead of the night to see me. I'm fine. It was no big deal. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Did you seriously just ask me who 'we' was? Oh my God, you really are messed up. Wrong place? You were at your house!" She paused. I heard her open and close a door then she began to whisper. "I told you this was a bad idea that you needed all of us."

I hardly heard her as I braced through the shooting pain in my head "Madison, I don't remember much of anything now."

My phone beeped. I glanced at the screen to see Bianca's name pop up on the ID.

I stared at the number for a second. There was no image on the screen. I could've sworn I had it to where her image showed up when the phone rang. Come to think of it, there was no image with Madison either. Where the hell are my photos?

"Charlie? Charlie, where did you go?" I heard Madison say.

I pulled the phone to my ear, ignoring the incoming call. "I'm right here. Bianca was beeping in. Madison, something is wicked wrong with me. I think my phone was janked with, too."

"Don't talk to her," Madison said firmly. "If this girl wants to play mind games, then she's going to have to play them with all of us. What did she do? Tell me right now. What do you remember?"

"Nothing good. I think those drugs dropped my friend zone. It could've been bad if mom didn't come."

I'd told Britain we could be friends, without cool benefits, but he wasn't my gig. He got me; at least he said he did. I just knew there was something too draining about Britain and Bianca. I wasn't me with them and I was determined not to lose me.

With that thought another sharp pain promising the migraine from hell shot through my head.

"Oh, crap, Charlie. Not good," Madison said. "It's not your fault—it's not like you were looking to hook up."

"Nothing happened," I stressed, like it was critical for her to believe me. "Nothing like that."

"Come home, Charlie," Madison said in a soft voice.

"Soon as I can," I swore hanging up. My 'soon as I can' meant after graduation, after my head cleared up. I knew if I stayed on the phone she would convince me her soon—ASAP—was the better idea.

At once, the whispers became silent and the shadows took the normal shape they were meant to. I canted my head to the side. That's right...they're always quiet when—, I glanced over my shoulder right as Britain reached to get my attention. I was glad it was him and not Bianca.

Critically, I stared up at him questioning why my curse was silenced around him and her. Maybe that was why I put up with them; my subconscious needed the silence, the breath of sanity that moments without fear supply.

"I gotta go," I said as I cagily looked through the doors to the ER, willing my mom to push through the crowd.

"Charlie, I swear I didn't know. I didn't do this," he pleaded as his steel blue eyes drew me in. It wasn't allure or seduction that trapped me. It was an obsession I had to understand the weirdness of him. Guys that look like him don't notice edgy girls like me. They don't stick around when they figure out there's a missing 'benefit' package. This made him odd in the normal world. The silence around him, the old soul with endless patience, made him stick out in the darkness of my reality.

"Right," I said distantly, like I knew he wanted to hear that and it was best that he did. "Mom's coming."

He refused to give me anymore room. "Bianca told her dad the Chinese delivery guy must've given it to us. She claims he was going to come back and rob us."

"And your high-powered defense attorney father believed that?" I asked sarcastically.

"I'm sure he didn't, but her version leaves us all innocent," Britain said as he dared to smile.

"'Innocent' is not a word in my mother's vocabulary. She isn't going to buy that story."

"Clearly," he said, cocking a brow and trying not to laugh.

"What?" I asked, dreading to know the answer.

"She threatened to sue our parents, but they countered that they would sue her for hosting the party. It was a screaming match, but once my father started citing case history, she stopped arguing and went back to you."

I felt my stomach turn. I could only imagine how my mother felt standing up to those men. We didn't come from old money like they did. We were a middle class family from Salem. Everything we had come from my mother's strides in the business world. She had literally climbed every ladder there was in her company. Which was great except I never saw her. Even when she was home, she was working. I'm sure she felt belittled by them, and I would bear the brunt for that as well.

"Perfect," I said sardonically, stepping away from him.

He closed the gap between us and put his hands on my shoulders, trying to get me to look into his eyes.

"Why are you so mad? This is not our fault. She'll get over it."

I didn't know if he was talking about my mom or Bianca sinking to a new low when it came to getting Britain and me nice and tight.

"Not cool," I said through my clenched jaw. "I need space from this."

"The meds still bothering you?" he asked tilting his head like he could see the damage inside.

"Charlie," I heard my mother say as the doors whisked open.

I felt her clinch my wrist before I could respond.

"Step away from my daughter before I give your father a believable excuse to sue me," she warned as she grabbed my arm and pulled me away.

The whispers made themselves known paces away from him, echoing a sinister laugh. I fumbled to turn my music up and put my headphones in as my mother hailed a cab.

My mom talked to Kara almost the entire ride home, not about what she saw when she came for me but what the doctor had said, what Britain's parents had said, others things too, I wasn't paying attention.

My phone was my lifeline. All my music was on it, my photos, conversations that I liked to re-read. Like me, it had been jacked with. All my photos were gone. Most of my music was. There were less than ten contacts. Britain and Bianca were at the top; mom, my sister and Madison were the others. I struggled to get the case off so I could make sure my phone wasn't wet or cracked.

Right as I popped the hard plastic shield off a paper floated down onto my lap. The sensual addicting aroma of a guys cologne wavered up. Rapid-fire images rushed through my mind. All of eyes, lips, arms. Nothing whole that I could grasp, I picked up the paper with shaking hands.

"No matter what ocean is between us, you'll always be in my heart, my dreams, and on my mind. Fly safe, baby. I love you. Oh, and when you wake, hold fast to the dream you think you never had. Because that's me, holding you there."

Wide eyed I stared at the note, crumbling it when I felt my mother's attention hammering into me.

What the hell happened to me?
Chapter Two

I felt a splitting headache and heard the annoying whispers long before I opened my eyes. I was still tired, but I was so thirsty I couldn't lie still anymore. I sat up and blinked a few times, trying to figure out how it was still dark outside. I looked at my clock, only to find it unplugged. I felt around my sheets for my phone, wanting to drown out the whispers around me, but I couldn't find it anywhere.

As I focused my eyes, I realized my room had been invaded. Someone had cleaned it! Every single carefully made pile of my things was gone. Furiously I shook my head. I knew my mom didn't decide to chisel out time to organize my creative clutter. She was looking for something, anything, to explain my out-of-character defiance. I wavered as I tried to remember more details, what I was missing, but everything was just as foggy. It almost seemed worse than it was before I went to sleep.

I took a deep breath then tore through my covers looking for my phone, hoping I'd simply pulled my headphones from my ears in my sleep. Anxiety cracked through my soul when I realized my phone was nowhere to be found. I heard the whispers laugh. I furrowed my brows in anger, but it was just an act. I was terrified.

I closed my eyes and started to remember the song I'd fallen asleep to. I could barely hold the memory in my mind, but it was enough to give me the courage I needed to look calm in front of this darkness.

I had to get a drink. My mouth felt like sand paper. Once this 911 was behind me I'd follow the breadcrumbs my mom had left and talk to her. It was the only way my phone was coming back into my life.

The apartment was dim, but I could see the light from the TV in the front room at the end of the hall. I crossed the hall to my mom's room to see if she was asleep. The clock on her nightstand said twelve AM. I turned on the light, too afraid to cross the dark room without my music. I walked to her bedside table to look at the date on the clock. It was Saturday, or at least it had been for the last minute.

How did I sleep all the way through Friday?

I searched her bedside drawer for my phone, with no luck. I stepped into the hallway and reached for the light, turning it on before I began to walk toward the front room. I watched as the shadows of the hall snaked themselves against the wall, avoiding the lit path I'd given myself.

Before stepping into the living room, I reached my arm around the corner to turn on the light then scurried to the kitchen just ahead on the left.

The main light in the kitchen was on, but I went out of my way to turn on the one above the sink and the stove. I heard the snickering from the shadows as they subsided away from the new light. "Laugh all you want," I whispered at them.

I could see my mom out of the corner of my eye at her desk in what was suppose to be our dining room. Blankly she stared at me whispering to myself. The TV in the den across from the room she was in was muted. I had no idea why she bothered to turn it on. The woman hated sound, craved silence.

I had almost devoured an entire bottle of water before she finally approached. She walked over to the cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Tylenol and handed me two pills. I took them, thinking I may've overestimated the ill mood I was positive she would have.

"If I fixed you something to eat, would you eat it?" she asked.

"Eat, Charlie..." the whispers taunted in an annoying, overlapping sequence.

I shook my head no, determined not to eat simply because they wanted me to.

"You're not hungry at all? You missed three meals and you're not hungry?"

Seeing that this was going to lead to a conversation about how I should take better care of myself, I chose the lesser of the two evils and reached for my box of cereal that was on the bar. She opened the refrigerator and pulled the milk out. I ate as slowly as I could, hoping she was getting too tired to discuss anything with me.

"Your gown and dress are hanging in your bathroom," she said as she pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge.

I continued to eat my cereal in silence.

"Everything else of yours is packed and in your sister's trunk," she said just before she casually took a drink of her water.

I almost choked. Once I coughed myself through that, I looked at her like she was crazy. "Kara's here? What? Why are my bags in her car?"

"Noooo," the whispers hissed.

Their disapproval brought a smile to the corners of my lips. Sometimes doing the opposite of what they say makes them silent, and not having any idea where my phone was, I needed silence.

"Where did you think you were going to spend the summer?" she asked dejectedly.

I stared blankly at her. Not a clue...

"You knew Kara wasn't going to miss your graduation."

"Um, yeah, I guess, but why are my clothes in Kara's trunk?" I asked, halfway smiling as I heard the whispers begin to quiet themselves. Was she lonely or something? Kara was married but Robert was deployed.

Mom struggled with words for a second then finally said, "This city is not good for you. I don't understand what Bianca and Britain have done to you, but we have to end this."

"I'm fine, Mom. I'm not going with Kara. I need to be here."

I drew up right after I said those words. Why did I say that? Why did I think going home would be a bad idea? Like I had just swam in bad mojo and needed some kind of holistic cleansing to erase attachments before I went to my safe place?

I got nothing. Nothing but a gut feeling that was over me showing up without the script to my life.

"You need to get away from them, Charlie. I thought about skipping your graduation, but I didn't raise you to be a coward who runs. We're leaving the moment you walk the line."

"Mom. Seriously. You don't understand. I can't right now. I'm not done."

"Done with what?" she asked shortly as she crossed her arms.

"I can't take this back to Salem with me," I answered finally.

My mom closed her eyes like she was listening to a sacred prayer and holding on to every word like it was her last breath of air. "Charlie...there are battles we're meant to face alone and there are ones we're not. No matter which one you've invoked—you need time to heal. The city is infectious. At home your real friends will bring you back."

"Ask Madison to come here for the summer. That's a compromise."

Mom's face flushed, "Madison? No one else?"

"You can ask Kara to stay if you want."

She took in a shaky breath then turned to put her water back in the fridge. "Home, Charlie. Discussion is closed."

"Can we open a discussion about my phone?" I asked as she walked away.

Nothing.

***

Kara, leaning across me caressing my cheek, woke me hours later. Her bright blue eyes were sparkling, and her long blond hair was tied to the side. She looked just like my mom, only younger. Some people have a hard time believing I belong to this family at all. I'm short, my hair and eyes are jet black. I looked like my dad. Well, except for the short part. I think the only reason I'm small is because I was premature, but who knows how genes work anyway?

"Today is your big day, Charlie bug," Kara said, grinning widely.

"Charlie...come, Charlie, you tease—you hear I see it," the whispers taunted as my skin chilled.

"I can't go, Kara. Help me talk Mom out of this."

"I'm taking Mom's side on this," Kara said like she'd just told me something was terminal.

"This is the one time I need you to take mine. I got stuff to handle here. Demons to fight."

"What demons are we talking about, Charlie?" Kara asked as she leaned back.

I pulled myself up and stared blankly in the distance. "I don't know. Just fears. Isn't that what demons are?"

"You would know," she said as she stood. "I don't know why you're trying to handle this on your own."

I furrowed my brow.

"I'm really worried about you, Charlie—everyone is—but I've been assured that letting you find your way back to the Charlie you were before those drugs, or whatever happened to you, is the only way you'll get better."

"I'm fine...just a little foggy," I swore.

"I think I could find a stronger word than that."

"You're a writer. I'm sure you could," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Fair," Kara said as she twirled her wedding ring on her finger. "Listen to yourself right now, to the emotions you're feeling. That'll be the fastest way to make you better."

"I agree. My emotions are telling me to stay here."

"You're safe in your father's house, whether you remember that or not." Her grin was vague. "Mom is following us back to have lunch and get you settled. Don't give her a hard time Charlie; she feels bad enough you were hurt."

"It's not her fault."

"You'll never convince her it's not."

"You hear me Charlie..." the whispers beckoned.

"Can you at least get my phone back?" I asked.

"I'll try."

The crowded gym we were packed into as they organized us for our march to the auditorium was a buzzing bliss for me. The conversations overlapping and echoing brought silence to my curse. It was the only good part about the entire ordeal.

I never really let anyone too close but I wasn't a hater either. I could get along with anyone. One by one people I hadn't talked to since my life was invaded by Bianca came up to me. I smiled for the selfie and signed their yearbooks. That was the easy part. The hard part was knowing they were looking for damage. Hearing them tell me they always had a bad vibe and knew it wasn't legit when I shut them all out.

One night had forever tainted how my graduating class would remember me. Not cool.

I was making my way to sit on the bleachers with all the other "M's" my Myers last name slotted me with when the roar around me, the buzz of deadly whispers, vanished.

I felt Bianca hook her arm through mine. I glanced to my side to see her huge blue eyes smiling at me. "I know you're not mad at me?" she said, grinning.

"I am."

Ignoring my response she went on. "Did you sleep? I've been texting you like crazy. I came over, but your mom wouldn't let me in," she said as she straightened my robe.

"Tell me your version," I said in a harsh tone.

"My version of what?"

"What did you do to me?" I seethed.

"Nothing. I thought it was Valium. I just needed you to relax. You're so uptight all the time."

"That wasn't Valium, and that wasn't what you were trying to do," I snapped as I looked away from her.

"What was I trying to do, Charlie?" she asked innocently.

I moved my head from side to side.

"Seriously? The silent treatment. You better get over that before our flight next week."

"Plans cancelled." No way in hell I was traveling with her.

Anger morphed behind her grin. My gut told me to pull back that my aces that were showing. Playing dumb and confused might be the best way to shed this chick.

"I think your mom has messed with your head. You'll feel better in a day or so. Why don't you and Britain go out tonight? Spend some time alone."

"I have plans."

"With?"

I glanced to the sea of humanity around us. "I have a life outside of you."

"Do you?" she said, laughing casually. "I've spent almost every waking hour with you for the past three months. The only person you talk to besides us is Madison, and well, you need to get over that girl."

"Yeah," I said looking across the gym. "Anyway. I'm keeping a low profile now. My mom has never been this mad at me before. I don't have my phone anymore. If I get it back, I'll text you or something."

"What?" She pointed her brow at me. "You're close enough to eighteen. You're about to get your freaking diploma. Tell her to suck it."

The principal blew the whistle for us to line up.

The march into the auditorium, the speeches, the sound of my name being called to receive my diploma were moments I should cherish, but I didn't. I focused on taking small breaths and trying to play a song in my mind. I couldn't make out what the whispers were saying, but it was clear they were enjoying the agony they were putting me through. Once the final words had been said and the caps were soaring through the air, I turned and hugged the people next to me before looking for my mom and sister.

When I found them, Kara took pictures of my mom and me as we posed as the happy, accomplished family.

"I'm going to check my locker before we leave. I think I left a hoodie in there," I said to Kara as I blocked another shot from her flash.

"OK, hurry up. We have a long drive," she said, scanning her camera to make sure she had properly captured the moment.

I expected all the lights to be on in the school, but they weren't. I stood at the entryway to the hallway my locker was on. It was barely lit enough for me to see my way. I thought about just leaving whatever was in my locker behind, but then the frustration of giving in to my fears took over. I unzipped my robe and laid it on the floor, took in a breath, then ran. The shadows reached out for me as the hiss sounded more like a roar.

The only thing I found in my locker was a black hoodie. I quickly put it on, covering my black dress. As I started to walk briskly back I fumbled with my hood. Something that I couldn't see pushed it back. I heard the whispers hiss and laugh as I turned, looking for anything or anyone that could've touched me. My heart started to race.

" – you said you'd help," a whisper hissed.

I tried to step forward, but something blocked me. I couldn't step back or to either side. I was horrified. Then all at once, they were silent, and whatever was blocking me had vanished.

I was numb, chilled to the bone.

"Charlie," I heard Britain say.

I turned to see him just a few feet away.

"Are you all right?" he asked as he slowly walked to me.

"I didn't know you were comin'," I said deflecting his question.

"Where else would I be?" he asked, trying to hold my stare.

"I have to go."

"Where are we going?"

"I told 'ya I need space."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm not okay with what went down."

"So I get the blame?" he asked sounding more like a guy my age than he ever had. "Bianca went too far. I'll deal with it. You and me, I'm keeping you close. It's better that way."

I didn't like the threat I sensed behind his words. It was like he was my jailer, didn't really care to hurt me, but would if it meant keeping his interest in line.

Like I said, he was an all right guy. Just not my guy to love or hate.

"Charlie?" Kara's voice echoed down the hall as she briskly walked through the shadows to get to me.

"It's uncanny how she always knows when to show up," Britain said.

"That's my sister."

"Really? You have a sister?"

"Why do you sound so shocked?"

"Never said, I guess," he canted his head taking in Kara still not believing we had any relation. "Thought you had a brother."

"Gotta go," I said not wanting Kara near him. She was the nicest person anyone could know, until she didn't want to be, "I'm comin'," I said to Kara. She was just a few feet away from us now but kept walking, as she looked over Britain.

He reached his hand out to her. "Good to meet you. I'm Britain."

Kara grinned tightly.

"Kara, is Mom looking for me?"

"She's talking to Bianca's parents. It might be a good idea for you to say your goodbyes. We have a long drive."

I felt my stomach tie itself in knots. I tossed a glare to Britain underlining why I was taking the space I needed.

"Where's our long drive to?" Britain asked causally.

My stare pleaded with Kara to be discreet.

"This isn't Charlie's home," Kara said. "We need to go," she said to me.

"I'll text," Britain said.

Kara couldn't help it, she said. "Don't bother, she doesn't have her phone. Your party destroyed it."
Chapter Three

I saw my mom, Bianca, and Bianca's parents by the door.

As Kara and I walked closer, I tried to judge my mother's composure. She wasn't tense at all. She was smiling and nodding along with something Bianca's father was saying. She even smiled at me as I walked up. On the surface this all felt cool, the undercurrent had me bracing for the worst.

"I'll let you know how that case works out," Mr. Nathenson said to us as my mom reached out to guide me toward the parking lot like we were in a hurry to leave.

My mom glanced back and smiled, then reached her arm around my shoulders.

"What case?" I asked once we were far enough away not to be heard.

My mom tightened her arm around me. "Mr. Nathenson was concerned about the delivery boy that brought the food to your party. He asked his friend at the DA's office to look into it. They've linked several cases matching deliveries and robberies. They even made a few arrests."

I was very careful not to let the confusion I was feeling surface in my expression. Bianca had admitted to me that she had given me what she thought was Valium. Now they're saying that her alibi was real?

She squeezed my shoulder.

"My car's over here, ride with Kara. I have a few calls to make. I don't want you to be bored."

In a daze I walked at Kara's side to her car.

I got in, put my seatbelt on, and slouched in my seat. I couldn't keep my legs still. I bounced them along with the rhythm of the song I was playing in my mind. Without even realizing it, my fingers started to move against the seat. I felt my breath start to come back to me. I was still anxious, but I could deal.

Kara climbed in and glanced down at my fingers moving in random order against the seat. I pulled my fingers into a fist. Once Kara got out of the parking lot, she pointed at the radio. "Go ahead, play your music as loud as you want."

"I don't listen to the radio."

She turned the radio up anyway.

A few minutes later, she turned it down and glanced at me. "What's your favorite song?"

"The one I hear right now," I said, pointing to my head, "– is track 1. I don't know the name of the band."

"Track one on what?" she asked, prodding me to open up to her.

"My phone. It's a good song. Great sound. Perfect voice."

Kara looked down at my fingers still moving along with what I could remember of the song. She relaxed in her seat. "Looks like it's helping you."

"Kara, please, no more with the fake bonding."

"Not fake," she said under her breath. "Music was your first voice Charlie; find your way back through it."

I mumbled, "It would be easier if I had my phone."

She didn't respond. Silence took over as the miles passed.

"I should've let you drive," she complained.

I gave a half roll of my eyes. I knew this was another olive branch. I'd taken Drivers Ed and passed with flying colors. I've had my license for almost a year now, but I live in the city. Driving was something I never did. It took too long. Or so my mom said when I asked for her keys.

"What? You don't think I'm driving you around all summer, do you?" she said, winking at me.

I sat up in my seat, not believing what I was hearing, "You're going to let me drive your car—really?"

"I didn't say that," she said, laughing.

Knew it! Olive braches only work when you deliver, Kara.

As we came closer to Salem, shadows from the trees alongside the road took over the sunlight. In my head, they were reaching out for me. Demanding that I help, or worse that I promised I would. No one in their right mind would toy with the dead. I may've a few chapters missing from my head, but I wasn't a fool. I was better off when I ignored this presence of dark—, my inner chant halted when a sharp pain shot through my head.

I guess the side effects were still jacking with me.

Kara reached in her purse and handed me a zip lock bag my mom must've supplied her with. I swallowed the Tylenol inside knowing it was useless. What I needed was a mental jackhammer to help me break down the walls in my head.

My thoughts didn't agree with my gut. It was smart to be afraid, thoughts and gut agreed. After that point, my gut wanted me to face my fears and see them for what they were. My head disagreed, and when it thought it was losing ground—it stabbed me. The pain stole my train of thought and left with a sour disposition.

I was a curse bolting into my hometown. Even though I was a breath away from legal adulthood there was nothing I could do to stop it. Mom wanted me here—I was going here.

An hour later Mom called and told Kara to go to the restaurant first that she was starving. I was hungry, too, but I wanted to change before we went out. I hated wearing this black dress. I looked down at my hoodie covering it and decided I didn't look as uptight as I thought I did. For good measure I lowered my hood and adjusted my ponytail, then pulled it across my shoulder before I raised my hood again.

"Are you really going to keep that hood on?" Kara asked as we pulled in the parking lot.

"Don't worry, Kara. I have lots of these. I'll let you borrow one if you want," I teased.

"Maybe so, but I'm the one who packed your bags."

"What? Tell me you packed them!" I said, not sure if she was teasing or not.

"Calm down. Hoodies, tank tops, and jeans all packed," she said, reaching to pat me on the knee.

My mother parked next to us. She was on the phone and waved for us to go on without her. I was sure it was some business call. She worked every day, all day. As we walked in, I purposely avoided the shadows that were stretched across the sidewalk. My awkward path didn't surprise Kara; she avoided them with me.

I heard the whispers, "Charlie, you promised."

It was almost one in the afternoon, but the restaurant wasn't crowded at all. Kara walked over to the hostess and whispered something quietly to her; the girl nodded, then turned and went toward the kitchen.

"You better not be planning some kinda song or somethin'. I'm serious, don't mortify me."

"No surprises," she said under her breath as she texted at the speed of light. "Not ready."

My gaze was drawn to the dinning room, almost like I heard someone call my name. At one of the tables by the window a guy my age was sitting with an older one. I locked gazes with him, once I did, adrenaline burned through my body. The good kind, the vibe that promises that you're standing in a 'marked moment' that will change your life, one way or another.

My heart had never beat this fast.

This guy...I'd never seen anyone like him. He had striking, hard not to stare features—high cheekbones, a sharp jawline, and those lips...

A beautiful dark angel...

Normally, glancing away is the best thing to do when it's obvious you're checking out someone, but I couldn't. I felt pulled to him. I had to tell myself to stand still—to not walk over to him in some kind of insane trance.

He ticked his chin up in my direction, a silent hello. I almost smiled back, but the move had shifted his dark locks out of his eyes—his jade eyes lined in thick dark lashes.

The cab ride home from the ER, the cologne and note all slammed back into my mind. Seconds ago they were part of the haze I was trying to put behind me. Just like the vision I had of jade eyes looking at me like I destroyed them.

The unknown void in my life left me staring at him like he was a haunt I needed to vanish from my life. I struggled to change my expression, but by the time I did, he'd dropped his eyes to his phone and started to answer the message that had broken our moment.

"Charlie...are you alright?" she asked, stepping closer to me and glancing over her shoulder at the dining room.

"I...I want to go home. Can you just order something?"

"You're home. Let's just eat. You're fine."

I dared to look at the boy again, he was looking my way again. This time I gave him a cagy grin, before I looked away. Marked moment or not, I was damaged goods right about now. I didn't need to be scouting hook ups.

What the guy did do was promise me I wasn't crazy when I adamantly said Britain was not my type. This guy wasn't just a type I dug. He had a vibe that mine recognized. He felt real to me. Like he wasn't afraid of his dark side, or felt the need to hide it—he embraced it.

A dull pain shot through my head as my gut tugged at my attention. My style might've made me seem like someone who liked the wicked, at the very least the eccentric—least traveled path, but I was a poser. I ignored how haunted I was.

The hostess returned then grabbed our menus. She began to lead Kara and me in the direction of the guy's table. I found it easier to breathe with each step. I could feel my body tingle with an energy that was beyond comprehension. My heart was still racing, but I could handle the rhythm.

I liked it.

Thinking about him—this recognition of my soul, was the distraction I needed. The breath of fresh air that told me I was bigger than a moment that happened to me.

I could still hear the whispers behind the hum of the dining room, but they were struggling to make themselves known. Almost like they were busted, and knew it, each second I heard them less.

This guy was saying something to the one he was eating with, I could see his lips carefully shaping each word, but he was staring at me, all around me. His undivided attention made me feel like I could conquer anything. Unseen chains were breaking away. It's crazy to think he had the power to free me from a prison I put myself into, but believing he did helped. I'd take any holistic cure I could find at this point.

He wasn't staring into my eyes anymore. At first, I thought he was checking me out, but then I realized he was looking at the space around me.

The booth where we were seated was two away from them. It looked out at the row of tables by the windows. On purpose, I sat at the edge of the booth so I could steal a glance or two.

Kara ordered our drinks, and when the waitress stepped away I stole another glance. I found his eyes waiting on me. I slowly reached for my hood and let it fall behind me. I pulled my ponytail loose and leaned forward on the table. I wasn't posing, not at all. I'm too shy for that.

It was just that...I didn't feel like I needed the security blanket of my hood. I wanted to see out, and I wasn't scared of letting someone else see in. A grin ghosted across the corners of his lips. Painful anger took residence in the glint of his eyes.

A look I knew, my gut screamed at me as I braced for a headache I didn't want. The pain, like the whispers, stayed away.

I trembled with a fear I didn't understand. This fear stopped me from contemplating exactly how many memories I'd lost.

"If Mom doesn't hurry up, I'm just going to order for her," Kara complained as she checked her phone.

"That call could last forever. You might as well order hers to go."

My mom had a tendency to lose herself on business calls. When she said, "Just give me a second," it always turned into an hour.

The boy and man got up from their table. As they passed us, the older man nodded in my direction. Now that I could see him clearly, I was almost certain he was the guy's dad; he was just an older version of him.

The man carried himself in the manner I imagined my father would if he were still alive, like a free spirit that didn't care what others thought but somehow made people fall in love at a distance. If I had to guess, I'd say that he either inspired or had a passion for music, too. I don't know how I did it, but I could spot a musician from a mile away. They don't even have to dress a certain way. It's just the vibe I feel coming from them.

As the guy came closer, I balled my hands into fists. I didn't want him to go but there was nothing I could do to keep him there. The few and far between whispers stopped harassing me, now the only word on their lips was Draven.

The sound of the name ripped through my head leaving a soaring pain blazing its path. The vision of a wounded, jade stare, the smell, feel of a life force fought to surface but was choked out by the survival instinct that hastens pain, at least the cause of it, as fast as it can.

As he passed my booth he reached his hand out and let his fingers dance across the edge. Everything was in slow motion. One second his fingertips were on the wood, the next they swayed across the flesh of my hand. The high of highs, the relief that absorbs the body the second torment is vacated enveloped me.

"Charlie?" Kara said when I turned to watch him leave.

"I'm not hungry. Can we just go?"

Frustration clouded her eyes as she gave her attention to the menu once again. Through the window I watched his long gate as he made his way down the sidewalk. I'd give anything for an ounce of the confidence he was blaring. He stepped off the curb and unlocked a dark gray Hummer.

The man made his way to the passenger door, which was by my mother's driver side. He looked through the windshield at her and waved. A beaming, relived, smile spread across her face. She ended her call abruptly and stepped out of her car. The man held his arms out, and she reached up and embraced him. My eyes widened as I surveyed the scene.

"Um, Kara, Mom is hugging a man and smiling, like, really smiling." Mom didn't date, ever. I didn't really care about her social life right then. I cared about a link I found. My addiction of choice wasn't lost to the fates anymore.

Kara didn't bother to look up, "Evan Michaels. Your dad's best friend."

I bit my lip trying to reason what she was saying through the pain in my head.

"Charlie," Kara said softly, like she knew any added noise would fracture me. "You've forgotten more than you realize. Some think talking to you straight could be dangerous." She mournfully studied me for a second. "If it were up to me I'd tell you all about the Charlie I know. Who she loves, what her passions are, what drives her. I'd tell you why she's not like any other teen I've ever met." She swayed her head. "But I'm not going to risk losing that girl to this version." She said with a tick of her head toward my fidgety hands and turned in shoulders. "Fight what doesn't feel right. Fight what you're terrified of. The best things resid behind fear, once you step outside of the shock you are using as shield. You can beat this, Charlie. I need you to believe you can."

My eyes glazed over as I tilted my head. "I'm losing it, Kara," I said wanting to run like hell. I felt this girl she was trying see in me, she was deep inside rattling her cage swearing vengeance. I just couldn't find her, not in the thick fog my thoughts were. When I would try to push through my anxieties would roar like an unseen beast ready to devour my audacity and curl back up and try to recount my steps.

She reached for my hands. "No, baby, no. You're getting it back. The cure is worse than the aliment. Face the blocks that are making you cringe. I swear to you there's good behind those walls."

I nodded shakily as my stare was drawn back outside. Coming home still felt like a bad idea, like I was polluting the waters, but I knew I couldn't say something like this to mom. She was strong and she expected me to be the same.

"Draven," she said, only at first I thought it was the whispers saying it. "He's in the driver's seat. Sometimes I get him and Aden backward at a distance."

I vaguely chucked my chin up at him when he glanced my way. I briefly closed my eyes when the sting of pain became a bit too much.

"Aden has dimples. If I catch them grinning I never call it wrong no matter how far away they are."

Mom was explaining something to Draven's dad, Evan. He was nodding along. Draven had his left arm draped across the steering wheel as he leaned toward the passenger seat, listening to them talk.

I had this overwhelming fear that she was telling them that she was hiding me away from some boy. Draven glanced over his arm through the window at me once more. I wasn't a fan of the hint of wrath I saw there. I tightened my jaw and shook my head 'No' once. I think, unconsciously, I was trying to tell him not to listen to what my mom may or may not be saying about me.

"I know them," I admitted even though I didn't have a single clear thought to back up my words.

I was doing what Kara said, facing the walls. It hurt like hell, I was a heartbeat away from passing out, but I was still kicking.

"How," Kara whispered.

The careful slant of my head told her that one question was too much too soon.

"Evan...Draven...Aden...and Nana," Kara said like she was ripping off a bandaid.

I arched a brow. I had no Nana, Kara and my mom was it. I hissed through the pain of headache.

I waved my hand telling her to go on, hit me again.

"No, I think they were right, you need to come at this in your time, not mine."

"Give me the blurb," I spat out. Kara loved writing, but hated blurbs. Summing up things was not her gig. I needed leads though. Something to help pull me out, my gut might've been all about facing my demons, but it wasn't suicidal. I had to figure my deal out before I started adding to my roster of people to keep in check.

Kara arched a brow, made a face then took a stab at it.

"Nana is the twins grandmother—their mom's mom. She died during their delivery. Cystic fibrosis was the ultimate cause. Nana has always lived with them, even when they stay in the UK. A single workaholic parent is one of many things you have in common with that part of your crew."

I raised my hand telling her to stop. I only heard the first part, after that I pushed back to the corner of my mind as thoughts struggled to find their way into my memories. I didn't open my eyes again until long after Kara had ordered for all of us.

I'd felt mom sit down beside me. "Sorry, girls."

"How did that phone call go?" Kara asked.

Small talk, good I could handle that.

"Perfect," Mom said as she dug in her purse, and then pulled out her stash of oils. She might look prim and proper, but I knew this woman was a hippy under it all and wasn't shocked one bit my rock star father had snared her. The aroma of choice was peppermint and lavender. I didn't need her direction. I took the small glass bottle and rubbed a dab on my temples. The onset of my migraine started to numb.

"A little food and you'll be good," Mom said as the waitress put our order down.

"I'm going to go ahead and drive back tonight," Mom said, once we were deep into our meal.

"That's a long drive to make at night, mom. Just stay," Kara said.

"Better this way."

They were the queens of small talk after that point. Mom talked about the business trips she had coming up, Kara mentioned her book and how her hubby was.

Once we finished our lunch, Kara asked Mom. "Do you want to go ahead of us?"

Mom pulled a credit card out of her wallet and laid it on the table. She kissed the side of my head before she stood. "I'll call you if I decide that stopping for dessert will be a good idea," Mom said to Kara.

Yeah, that was odd. I focused on Kara questioning what was up. She grinned. "No more blurbs from me, not today."

Once in the car I slouched low in my seat. All I could smell were peppermints. All I could hear was the bustle of the street behind us. Under it all, I was sure there was a hum of darkness, but it was watching me from afar now. A boundary I didn't trust.

***

Our house was twenty minutes outside the city limits of Salem. As we got closer the tension in my body gave way. I went a second, then another, without bracing for aftershock of my headache or a haunting whispering.

Just before Kara turned on our road I glanced over the treetops. In the distance, I thought I saw the top of a castle. It was a brown brick with wide oval corners that broke out from the house.

"One day I will build you a castle, too. All our own." Those words swam through my thoughts. The voice was deep, velvet, and sensual, pure perfection.

The jade eyes that now had a name behind them, surfaced in my mind, painlessly. I didn't push past this victory seeking another. One second at a time. I was letting it all come to me at its own pace.

There aren't very many houses on our winding road. Most of them are close to a mile apart and just as far off the road. I could always recognize our driveway because halfway down, there was a covered bridge. A small stream that ran beneath it, vines surrounded it.

Past that point, there was a row of trees hiding the brick house I was born in. From the outside, our house only looked like it was a large three-story home. Inside, there were five levels. The floor plan was stacked, the bottom floor opened to two levels, one to the right and the other to the left. Above them was another large level that led to the top level, which was just an open room. It sounds bigger than it is.

It didn't look much different as we pulled up to the house that had been in Kara's care since we moved to the city for mom's work.

Kara followed the driveway around to the back of the house, where the garage was. As we turned the corner, I saw my mother leaning against the side of our house. Kara stopped and put the car in park.

"You're leaving your car here? What's wrong with the garage?" I asked, pulling my seat belt off.

"A little crowded," she said, pulling her keys loose.

I cringed, imagining a summer of organizing this house. Kara wasn't messy in a bad way. She was just creatively distracted.

I hesitated as I stepped out of the car. I could still hear the whispers, but they were so quiet they almost sounded like the wind blowing. A smile came across my face. I was really starting to like being at home.

My mom held her hands behind her back and walked over to me. "I have something for you."

I was hoping it was my phone. If it wasn't that, I was prepared to plead for a trade. She pulled her hands from behind her back and handed me a small black box with a red bow on top of it. I knew it wasn't my phone, but I smiled anyway, thinking that if I was grateful for this I could talk my way into getting my phone back.

I wanted my music back, but I also wanted to break into my case and read that note again. The night I found it was more so a blur, today, seeing Draven, having those flashes in my mind—I need to feel something real in my hands, a proof that fragile mind could not change.

"You didn't have to get me anything."

I opened the box. Inside, lying on a silk pillow was a set a keys. My eyes widened. I tried to say something—to at least ask what they went to, but I was speechless.

"Do you want to see what it goes to?" Mom asked.

"Oh my God yes!" I said, reaching up to hug her.

She squeezed me tight and then pulled me around to the garage. Inside, I saw a brand new dark blue Volkswagen bug with a huge red bow on top of it.

"I can't believe this! You got me a car! I—I just don't know what to say." This was not my mom's gig when I was walking the straight and narrow path. And most definitely not something I'd expect after her coming home and finding me drugged.

"'Thank you, 'Can I take it for a drive' that's a good start," Kara said, laughing at me.

"There's a gas card in the console, and the insurance card is in the glove box. This is all yours. Happy graduation," Mom said, pulling me to her so she could hug me again.

"Thanks, Mom," I whispered in her ear.

"Go ahead, take it for a drive. There's GPS if you get confused. I know you haven't even driven out here before."

"Yeah, but it can't be any harder than learning to drive in the city. I'll wait to take it out. I know you have to leave soon, Mom," I said, running my hands across the body of the car and tasting my first flavor of freedom.

"No, take it out. I'll be here when you get back," Mom said, opening the door and taking the big ribbon off.

I slid into the driver's seat and let my hands run across the wheel as I breathed in the new car aroma around me. I reached for my seat belt before putting the key in to turn the car on. I'd never had anything brand new before. I sorta liked the vintage vibe in what I called my own, but this—I don't know, it was just unexpected enough to make me fall in love with it.

I gripped the distraction of it like it was my favorite vice.

"Wait," I heard Kara say.

I looked through the windshield to see her walking around the side of the house. I thought for a second she was going to come with me, but when she came back around the house, she was carrying my purse. She handed it to me through the open window.

"You need your license."

"Anything else?" I asked, daring to hope that they'd hand me my phone next.

"Drive safe."

I took in a deep breath as I turned the key. The driveway circled our house, so I turned the opposite way from where Kara's car was parked. As I crept down the driveway, I fumbled with the radio, trying to find a station to listen to. All I heard was commercials, so I turned the volume loud enough to cover any distraction that the whispers could possibly bring.

When I reached the road, I turned back the way we'd come before. Madison's house was almost directly across the street from ours. I could see a ton of cars parked down her driveway. She graduated today too. I decided to wait to see her. I needed to scope out how much damage my stunt caused her before I walked in her house all smiley and such.

I weaved through the long roads around for almost forty-five minutes. The sun that had shined all day began to fade as gray storm clouds covered its glare. I held my breath and reached for the radio. As I turned it up, the station lost its signal. Panic came over me as I stared forward at the shadowed road. I heard the hiss of whispers over the radio that was tuning itself in and out.

Of course, cue the anxieties...

The shadows across the road began to change form then before I knew it they looked like large dark figures reaching for me. In my panic, I drove faster. The shadows took over the entire road. I lost sight of where I was going. Knowing the road had sharp curves I slammed on the brakes afraid I was racing toward a tree. As the car started to spin, I squeezed my eyes closed and once the car had stopped, I sat frozen. I could hear the angry hisses and feel my car gently rocking. I started to hum. At first it was just noise, but then I managed to mimic one of my father's tunes. A few seconds later, it was silent. In that instant, I heard someone honk.

I slowly opened my eyes, trying to catch my breath as my heart raced in my chest. I saw a minivan in my rearview mirror. I was at a four-way stop, and I had no idea how I got there. The van honked again, urging me to go. My trembling hands gripped the steering wheel as I pulled to the side of the road to let the van pass. All at once, the station found its signal. The loud, abrupt sound made me jump, but I didn't bother to turn it down. I wasn't taking any chances when it came to hearing this darkness.

I fumbled with the GPS and pressed 'Home.' Nothing happened. I then pressed every single button I could manage to hit. A warning box flashed on the screen, saying 'No signal.' Frustrated, I threw it in the seat then looked up. Two of the paths were dark, covered by the shadows of the hills. One had the aging sun brightly showing its path.

I chose that one, obviously.

As I drove down the road, I passed countless streets. None of them looked familiar. I was completely lost. Right when I was about to freak, I heard the GPS beep, then say "Enter address."

I decided to turn into the next driveway I saw and figure out where I was. I slowed down. All at once the whispers erupted into a violent hiss above the blaring radio. It sounded like millions of swarming insects trying to say my name. It felt like my head was going to burst in two—the sound was unbearable.

I turned into the next driveway. Twenty feet into the driveway, I slammed the car in park. At that instant, I realized they were gone. I slowly reached to turn down the radio, knowing that at any moment I should hear them again.

My heart pounded as I chased the darkness....

The radio was completely off, and I still couldn't hear them. I held my breath, thinking that I was somehow covering the sound, but it wasn't there. It was completely silent. A weight slowly fell from my shoulders. I'd never once heard...silence. The sound of a chirping bird made me jump. Once I realized what it was a smile spread across my face. I looked behind me, wondering how the sound could go from being so violent to absent.

I pulled slowly forward in the driveway, trying to find a place to turn around. I had to follow it uphill to where I thought it opened in the distance. Once the trees passed, I saw the brown brick castle-looking house I'd seen over the treetops earlier. My ears started to burn. Soul-seizing adrenaline rushed through me. Of all the freaking houses, I picked this one. I tried to think of what I'd do if that Hummer was here, if Draven or his dad happened to be outside. Nothing I could come up with made any sense. I was humiliated.

Even though I could see the house, it was still far enough away that I could sneak out of here. I didn't see the Hummer, but I could see the top of a silver car. I decided just to carefully turn around in the straight driveway. I had to turn and back up three times before I managed to turn completely around.

I looked in my rearview mirror to see if anyone had seen me or was outside. I froze when I saw my mom and Evan. He was putting something in the trunk of her silver car. They weren't looking at me. I was sure they hadn't seen me. They were acting too casual toward each other. Evan hugged my mom and opened her car door for her to get in.

I panicked and took off. I looked back to see if they'd heard me, but they gave me no signs that they did. Not thinking, I turned right out of the driveway which meant I was going in the same direction as before. I reached for the GPS to hit 'Home,' knowing I'd lose my signal any minute. The whispers slowly started to come back. I hummed to myself as I read the directions that pretty much said turn around you idiot.

I threw the GPS down in the seat and turned the radio up. The whispers vanished behind the song. Inside, I was falling apart. I knew they'd never go away, but on the outside, I was chill enough. Once I turned around at the stop sign to head back in the direction of the castle, I prepared myself for just about anything.

I sat up in my seat. I had this fear that my mom would pull out as I passed and that I'd be in the awkward position of asking her what she was doing there. I glanced up the driveway as I passed by, but I didn't see anyone coming down it. I relaxed into the seat. A mile later, though, my heart found another reason to race: I was sure I saw the dark gray Hummer coming from the other way. I held my relaxed composure, even though every muscle tensed in my body.

At that moment, the whispers began to grow louder. They sounded like a violent thunder. I couldn't understand the words they were saying across each other. All I knew was that my name was laced within their cries. I started to hum casually to myself as I watched the gray Hummer come closer, and closer.

Draven was driving and in the passenger seat was his twin Aden. They had the windows down and the sunroof open. I could hear the sound of screaming guitars long before I reached them. I stopped humming and focused on the guitars. At that instant, the whispers vanished. As I passed them, Draven happened to look down at my car. A sexy grin lingered on his lips. When I looked in my side mirror, I caught his eyes looking back at me through his mirror. I literally stopped breathing for a second then looked forward and gripped the steering wheel.

He had to be a good guy, right? If I put the breaks on Britain and this guy enflamed my soul then yeah. My issue? Nothing inside of me agreed.

I kept replaying the sound of those guitars in my mind as I drove the last few miles home. When I reached my house, I saw that my mom's car was back. As I pulled my car in the garage, I breathed out and tried to look calm and unbothered as I got out of the car.

I wasn't going to let my crazy destroy my first freedom ride. As far as Kara and Mom would know, I just had the time of my life.
Chapter Four

Once inside I hesitated before I closed the door. The house was silent. Not a single whisper. A calm hum absorbed the vibe. I struggled to remember if home had always felt like this. If it had, I couldn't fathom why my gut was telling me it was dangerous for me to be home.

Kara was at the kitchen table on her laptop. She glanced up as I closed the door and continued to focus on the nothing I could hear.

"You good?" she asked.

I didn't answer. Her concerned eyes danced all over me.

"Where's Mom?"

"Your room."

I started to walk that way.

"Hey," Kara said, standing to stretch. "Madison came by; she wants to take you to a party band thing tonight. I told her you'd be back in a little bit."

"A party, um, that's why I'm here, remember," I said, looking for an excuse not to go anywhere. It would be dark soon. I'd already had a bad enough day. I wasn't going to give the whispers behind the shadows another opportunity to torture me.

"You're in trouble for having a party, not going to one. Mom said you could go."

"You're joking," I said as I watched my excuse wash away.

"Nope," she said, "it's pretty much doctors orders—get you into your routine."

I started to point out that it had been months since I'd been home but couldn't gather the energy to stand my ground.

"Here...take this. She told me to have you look through it," Kara said, handing me one of Madison's tattered sketchpads.

All right then, I thought.

Kara turned back to her keyboard, and I gripped the pad and slowly turned to go to my room. I crossed the living room to the stairs and began to climb. My room wasn't really a room. It was the center of the second large level. When I was little, I moved my room from one of the side rooms to this one. I never felt alone or scared on that level because from that room you could hear the entire house.

It was also the brightest.

If a single light was on, it illuminated the room. It made me feel like I had independence, but I was still connected to everyone. My mom had walls built around the space that was supposed to be a living room area to give me more privacy, but one wall was still short and looked over the floor below and above. Kara hadn't made any changes to the house at all. Even when her husband was in town, they barely left the bottom floor.

My mom wasn't in my room, but I could tell that she had been. A new bedspread was on the bed, and my clothes were hanging in my open closet. Air humidifiers blasting lavender were on each end table.

"Mom," I said loud enough that my voice would carry through the open house.

"Are you back already?"

I tossed Madison's sketchpad on the bed and walked to the short wall of my room and looked down, trying to judge where she was.

"Yeah, where are you?" I yelled down.

"Up here."

I glanced up to see her leaning over the banister of the top level. My heart started to pound. She was in my father's studio. We never went down the 'dad' road. I was pretty positive, despite the unexpected privileges that had been given to me today; she thought I was not only jacked up—but one episode away from the insane asylum.

Before that stupid party I was a pro at hiding how I felt on the inside, even better at never engaging the darkness. Now I was cut raw and didn't know what was what. I'm sure to them it did seem like I flipped a switch and my entire personality changed.

My dad's personal space being pulled into focus could only mean mom was desperate to connect with me. Most times we lived in different worlds, hers was silent and mine used my father's weapons to fight my demons.

The only way to get to the studio was a short staircase inside of my room. I waited for her to come down, but she never did—she wanted me to come to her. I balled my hands into fists and tensely walked to the short staircase. At the top of the stairs, I found the banister she was looking over empty, and the door that led to the studio open.

When I reached the doorway, I saw her adding a guitar to a stand in the middle of the room. There were five lined up there. In the center of the room a black button leather couch sat with a guitar case lying open. Besides a large amp, that was all that was up here. I'd forgotten how the simplicity of this space made it so beautiful. The floors were a light hardwood. The top half of the back wall was a window. It looked out at the distant treetops. They told me Dad never recorded here, clearly, it was far from sound proof, but he'd write for hours—days on end—in this room. I always sensed him in this house, but in this room, I was sure he saturated the walls.

Pride kept me from glancing down in shame. I didn't really feel scorn in the air but if I had a bad habit, it was being hard on myself. I couldn't help it. I'd always felt a step out of rhythm with life because of my ability. Hiding my aliment—the state of shock I stayed in, meant I had to walk the line. People overlook the kids who blend.

"What's going on?"

She glanced at me, then all around me. "Are you all right?"

"Tired," I answered, gazing at the guitars behind her. I felt the pain I'd battled all day knocking on my door, and for once, I didn't acknowledge the ache as memories flooded through a wall in my mind. I knew how nearly all of those guitars felt when they were played. I could fathom the sounds that would cry out of them. My fingers moved against my leg as the vibration of my imagination soared through my body.

One problem. I don't play.

I had a list of reasons why, didn't I? Was it because I was afraid I'd never be as good as my father was? I'd shame his only heir? Did I not want to put Mom through listening to sounds that would remind her of him?

These were the excuses that didn't hurt when I gripped them. That is why I didn't trust them. Today the most healing moments came when I pushed through the pain.

An awkward silence settled around us. Mom was waiting for something, watching everywhere my eyes landed. The air filled with static. It almost felt like cob webs were brushing by me, but it wasn't bad, or scary. My skin didn't chill. My heart didn't race. The only emotions I was feeling were my own erratic ones. The feeling loomed like a sphere around me then vanished.

Mom glanced away then at me like she was at a loss for words.

"Some of your dad's classics," she said with a tick of her chin toward the stand.

"Got an auction or somethin'?" I'd heard stories of how long it took for Mom to get any of dad's royalties after he died. His friends found other ways to help her out. Now and again when they call needing to raise money for a cause they are supporting, she finds a way to let go of something to repay them for their charity concerts they threw for her.

"For you, Charlie."

My name, Charlie Myers, was my father's too. Each guitar set out had the name somewhere on it, at least his initials.

"You need to play, Charlie. It will help."

I swayed my head looking for a steady rhythm deep inside.

"I—," I stopped. How could I tell her that I couldn't play when I had two versions of what I could and could not do in my head?

"It's been a while," Mom agreed. "I saw Evan at the restaurant today," her smile was sad. "He said he'd love to help you brush up." Her eyes landed on the case resting on the couch.

She was giving attention to the one guitar in the room I knew better than any other, according to my rebel thoughts I'd learned to play on it.

"Charlie," Mom whispered when I'd sunk deep inside myself trying to piece together the threads this day had given me. She was right before me when I did focus. "I'm sorry."

I furrowed my brow as my eyes glazed with angry, confused tears that I was determined to hold in.

"I kept you close for a reason," she said, like the words ripped at her soul. "I knew in a blink of an eye you'd be gone, doing what you were born to do. You needed a foundation; a place where you could ignore what tormented you. I gave it to you the only way I knew how." She tilted her head. "It was a mistake."

"Not your fault, Mom. I messed up; don't plan to do it again."

She reached for my hands, a calm surge resonate there. "Someone is always watching, Charlie. Living the way we have was for more than foundation." She tightened her grip. "There are things about your heritage that you will not be given time to understand. I need you to trust the impossible right now and every day that comes after."

On all levels this conversation fit like a square peg in a round hole. Who was this woman and what had she done with my mom? Was she trying to tell me I had a predisposition to drugs or something? I could assume as much if I wasn't a cursed soul. Both my parents had their wilder days.

"What did you see?" I asked in a shaky whisper. "When you came in my room that night—what did you see?"

It was tragically hard to imagine I'd forgotten chunks of my life. I wasn't scared to figure out who or what belonged in those voids. All pain is temporary. On the other hand, each time I went near trying to recall that night it wasn't only the pain that stopped me—it was petrified fear, the kind that shocks you into submission.

I could remember letting Britain and Bianca in, I remember Britain's friends showing up minutes after the deliver guy. Everything else...it was like the doctor said, the mind blocks trauma. For all I knew when the drugs kicked in, my demons stepped out of the shadows.

Mom drew her chin up. The strict woman who never colored outside the lines morphed before me. "A battle not meant to be fought alone."

There was no way to read her answer. When I didn't question what she said she grimaced like she heard tragic news then pulled me closer. "I have to go." When she reached the door she glanced back. "When I get home from this trip," she glanced toward the guitar stand, "you're going to play for me."

I turned white as snow as I watched her leave. The idea of playing for her was more terrifying than anything I'd faced. You simply did not let my mother down.

It was a long while before I moved. I wasn't really there, but inside working on me. I don't know how to explain it but when I did want to leave, I couldn't. I didn't feel a wall, didn't sense negative vibes or hear a thing. I just knew my leaving wasn't welcome.

I edged closer to the guitar on the couch as more memories punched through my mind. Your dad wrote with this one...he gave it to me after we wrote our first song together. He said it asked for me, I hear it asking for you now...

Evan's voice, a man who was a stranger when I woke up this morning, now had roots in my life.

I slowly sat down on the couch. I was starting to trust that I was in a safe haven. As long as I didn't push too hard, I could remember without the pain stopping me. Bravely, I drew the guitar from its case and set it across my lap. The act was natural, the fluidness stopped there. Five simple strings had humbled me.

I toyed with how to hold my fingers, the sounds that came when I moved them just so. It was horrible. I sounded like a kid turned loose in a music room hitting all the wrong chords

I heard the sound echo into something I couldn't have possibly created. Firmly gripped by shock I tried to remember the way I'd touched each string. Frustrated, I let my fingers loosen. I closed my eyes.

The strings beneath my still fingers moved.

My eyes flew open, and I watched as the strings were pushed down and the vibration of the sound echoed around me.

I jolted up and was halfway across the room as the sound played all around me. I stopped at the threshold surprised I'd gotten that far, whatever was holding me in the room before had given way.

I stared at the empty room as my chest rose and fell.

"I need all the help I can get right about now, Dad...if they gave you wings or somethin' send good vibes my way." An unsteady breath blew across my lips. "I don't want to feel crazy anymore."

The looming feeling I sensed before, the static, surrounded me. Silence came. Not from the guitar that I could still hear playing, but from my twisting thoughts. The war between my mind and gut was hushed. I don't know how long I rested there in the calm of my mind.

Kara yelling my name from the first level broke the spell.

When I reached the bottom level, Kara was holding a brown box.

"What's that?"

"You tell me," she said, handing me the box. "A delivery man just brought it for you. He refused to go until I signed your name."

I curiously reached for the box. There wasn't any kind of label. Only a small piece of tape was holding the sides down.

"If that's Chinese food, it's going in the trash," Kara said, crossing her arms.

I felt my face flush with fear. Could they have found me—that fast? What was this?

I pulled the tape loose, and on the inside was a phone with a single red rose lying next to it. A note was taped to the touch screen that read, I think I found most of your bands and put them on here. If I forgot anyone, you can buy them with the password 'Charlie.'

Britain didn't sign it, but I recognized his handwriting. Kara cursed under her breath as she read the note.

"I'm starting to regret Mom taking this from you," she said, pulling my phone from her pocket.

"I knew they'd find me," I said slamming the box shut. Poisoned. I'd brought my plague home.

Shakily I reached for my phone. It was pretty much a diary—drenched in data that highlighted my personality. Now, more than ever, I needed to read the plot my life surrounded.

"Mom only restored the music," Kara said when she saw me clicking away; trying to break into social media apps, only for it to ask for a password I didn't know. "She said when she came back, one way or another, she'd put it all back."

Considering her corporation was with an international cell phone company I didn't doubt she had someone somewhere that could find my lost info chilling in some data cloud. What I did doubt was that she needed days for this to happen.

"Perception is a bitch," Kara said. "What's in those apps is a front. What you wanted others to believe. Now's not the time to fool yourself. Find the answers inside, in what you love."
Chapter Five

Back in my room, I shed my dress and pulled on my favorite jeans and a black tank top, covering it with my hoodie. I grabbed the box with my phones and scooted to the center of my bed. My phone had my headphones wrapped around the top. Like an addict needing her next hit, I unwound them, but then I stopped.

Under the silence I thought I heard the guitar, the same sound that played when I was upstairs. I was determined to soak in as much of the mood I'd found as I could. When it faded, if it faded, I'd start to open the time capsules every song on my phone was. I'd listen to each lyric, every note. With any luck why I loved the song would painlessly flood forward.

I had a theory; no song is heard the same way. What I hear and what Madison hears are going to be two different things. We're coming at it from two vastly different directions. I could've endured something the song was helping me get through. Maybe she hadn't, maybe that song was just noise to her right then, and the one song she was hung up on was noise to me. It's the same with books, movies, and artwork—anything. No one else has the view I have. No one notices the same things I notice.

Kara had a point before—perspective changes everything.

Before I scouted any playlist I ripped the case off my phone and like before the aroma of the note stilled me. My fingers ran across each letter. It hurt so bad to read the words, not in my head, but in my heart. Draven Michaels should be staring in every thought I had after the impact I felt when I was close to him today. The thing was, right now he was a possibility. I didn't want to find out we were history, or why.

It was his eyes, how pained they were when they came to my mind the night of the party. I put that look there, the sick feeling twisting inside promised it wouldn't be an awesome moment to recall.

This note was all I had. Not a single picture of him was in my room in the city. I talked to hundreds of my classmates this morning, no one mentioned any guy I had. Until I broke into my apps and photo albums, so I could stalk the truth behind closed doors, I'd remain in the dark.

Once my note was tucked away I texted Madison telling her I was home. Get Ready was her instant reply.

I reached for her sketchbook wondering what coded message she was trying to slide in under the parental radar but stopped, thought about it, then reached for the box with Britain's phone in it. If I had a prayer of making sure he stayed where he was with Bianca it would come from acknowledging him. I could play out how much trouble I was in for a while, but not answering him would be an insult. Those two are not the type to let you burn them and walk the other way.

I typed the first text ten times and then finally just went with one.

Thanks. More trouble than it's worth. Catch you when I can.

He responded immediately.

I told the messenger to give it to you and no one else.

I texted back. Yeah. That part worked out. Service sucks here. How did you know where I was?

The phone began to vibrate with a silent ring. I glanced to the short wall, knowing Kara would hear whatever I said. I didn't want her to know I was talking to him. I crawled off my bed and walked to my closet.

"Hello?"

"A whisper...," he said in an amused tone. "You really must be in trouble."

"The house echoes."

"Were they mad when they saw the phone?"

"How did you find me?" I asked again.

"It wasn't hard. There's this thing called Google."

"Stalker," I said in a flat tone.

"Did you not want me to know where you were?"

I squinted my eyes closed and balled my hand into a fist. "Space. I can't land in the ER then just chill with the people I got in trouble with."

"Guess I should tell them to hold the house warming invitation."

"The what?"

"Once we get settled in Salem we planned to have a party, meet the town thing."

"You're joking."

He laughed. "Maybe if you spent less time dodging conversation openers you'd know what's going on in my life."

"I had my reasons."

It would be cool if I knew what they were!

"Bianca made a stupid mistake. You can work that out with her." When I didn't fill in the silence he said. "By the time I get there, you and your mom will be cool again. We can start over. Friends do that kinda thing."

"When is that?" I asked in the flattest tone I had.

"Few days. I'll keep you in the know."

"Gotta go," I whispered like I was busted and then hung up.

I opened my closet door, and in a daze walked to my bed and fell across it. I stared at the open ceiling, fighting frustrated tears. I'd landed right on Madison's sketchbook; I pulled it out from under me and opened it up.

The first sketch was of a guy looking out at masses of dark shadows. I turned the page as fast as I could trying to keep myself chill. I'd often imagined what my whispers would look like, if there were only one or two near me, or masses of them. Thinking about it now wasn't helping anything. In my minds eye I saw these damned souls being obliterated. The sick part was, instead of thinking I was freeing myself from them, my jacked up gut was pushing me to defend them.

The next sketch showed another guy. The shadows he was looking at seemed more peaceful. The sad theme in this sketch was the souls were marching down broken paths, not ones that led to visible peace.

In the third sketch, I found an outline of a girl. She was looking at images, too, but Madison had focused on the auras of color around them. In small text at the bottom, she'd written 'emotions speak what I see.'

I bit my bottom lip, wishing I could see what my emotions were speaking. I turned to the next sketch to see another sketch of the girl standing in front of a combination of the other three sketches.

My curiosity caused me to turn the page again, and the next sketch made my heart stop. It was of Bianca glancing alluringly over her shoulder, on her neck the broken heart birthmark she hated blared its way into focus.

I slammed the book closed and rubbed my hands across my face. Did Madison meet Bianca in real life? Why would she sketch her like that?

The sound of a guitar gently playing pulled me out of my thoughts. I focused on the sound, found my way back to stillness. When I emerged again I saw puzzle pieces that fit together, maybe. The twins, Madison, and me—four of us, four sketches looking out at shadows in our own way...Bianca looking like the devil she is.

The clench of my jaw underlined one stray thought. No way, no how, would I ever want Bianca near Draven—near anyone connected to my life. Was that why I didn't want to come here? Did she really make me that insecure? If I went through all this and figured out under it all there was only teenage drama—I'd never freaking forgive myself.

I'd hidden behind the mundane task of showering and getting ready to go out for the last bit. Every few minutes I'd test how long I could endure thinking through impossible thoughts, then fall back into a silent vibe seasoned with a guitar riff. When I came out of my bathroom Madison shocked the hell outta me, I didn't expect her to be sitting on my bed lost in her phone—wait, no, that was Britain's phone.

"Hey," I said to get her attention.

She finished what she was doing on my phone before looking up at me. "Whoa, you look hot."

"What are you doing?"

"This girl is ridiculous," she said in her 'come at me again, dare ya,' tone.

Which girl was not a question worth asking, I knew. "What did she do?"

"She kept blowing it up. I texted and said, going out catch you when I can."

I groaned as I sat next to her on my bed. I knew Bianca was either with Britain or would complain to him that I was going out which would make my argument about needing to stay out of trouble mute.

"Kara said he sent a phone here. I told you this wasn't going to be easy."

"Did you?" I said, looking at her with pleading eyes. "What's not going to be easy?"

Madison always looked a little deeper than most when you had her attention. Right then I felt raw, wide open. "It's not going to matter until you get your memory back."

"Madison," I pleaded.

She tilted her head like my agony was killing her. "I should've...look, you have this deal. You can't accept blanket explanations. You're always digging. You spin in place because you get both sides. There's no right or wrong with you—you think from where every soul stands they're right, at least to them they are. When I saw you tripping, trying to help things that have done no favors for us, I ignored it. I figured you'd come 'round. When you didn't, your walls were up. I don't know all you got yourself into." She leaned forward. "If I push, tell you my way—your way could be lost." She eyed me. "No drug took you down, Charlie. Someone literally edited the hell out of your life. Diffusing the bomb this atrocious act was could be a trap." Her grin was sad. "I can't drink your Kool-Aid right now."

When I glanced away she gripped my arm. "You're a thousand times better than I was told you were earlier. Keep doing what you're doing. We'll beat this."

"I wanted to stay in the city. I couldn't argue my way, not after getting in trouble."

"I heard," she snipped, obviously not hearing my apology for shutting her out like the rest of my classmates, or bringing my bad influences in close.

She squeezed my hand. "I know you hear things that are scary, but trust me when I tell you that you were not scared of them before, or at least you hadn't been in a while." She reached her arm around me. "We're getting through this. We've been through worse, well, maybe not, but still. You're going to be just fine."

I was cool with dark whispers before all this? Yeah right.

The painless thought burned through me—no pain meant no truth. At least I thought it did.

"It's different here, the headaches aren't so bad." I glanced to the empty space. "Quieter."

She nodded to agree. "You're building your tolerance again." She stared me down, I felt like a blog post being sped read. "I'd trust your gut."

When she saw the shock in my eyes she sat up a bit. "Your instinct never got you or us in trouble before. One foul up is no reason to ditch it."

I took a steady breath. "I know I never trusted Bianca," I narrowed my eyes. "Brit, I don't know. He means well, I guess. I just didn't want them on this side of my life, now they are."

This side of my life was the acoustic version. Stripped down. My identity was there in the open. In the city, my image was my front. I never tried to put roots in the concrete there. I knew I was passing through, present by circumstance, not by choice.

"I get it," she swayed her shoulder into mine. "I'm stubborn as hell, too. Them not knowing us is cool—us not knowing about them wasn't."

I bit my lip wondering if that was it. If I knew she'd come to my defense. "If you did," I said meeting her eyes. "We'd both be jacked up now."

"I don't believe that, but arguing it will not untwist you. We gotta charge forward. Get it behind us so we can do our thing."

A dull pain swelled in my head as I tried to grip what our thing was. I did feel like this upset came at the worst time.

The soft sound of the guitar grew louder. I glanced to my side. "Do you hear that sound?" I whispered.

She sat up slowly and held my stare as a serious expression came across her face. "Tell me what it sounds like."

"A guitar. Is that bad?"

She swayed her head, "It's prob why you're looking better than your mom said when she left today."

"You really don't hear it?"

"Charlie, we all have our vices. Guitar isn't mine," she said, nodding to her sketchbook.

I started to speak, but I knew I didn't have the strength to say or understand that I thought my dad was haunting this house. It sounds crazy, but I needed to think he was, that I had angels watching out for me. It made the security blanket of home all the richer.

I reached for my phones and tucked them in my bag before I pulled it across me. Madison glared in question at why I had two. "It's not a leash," I said knowing she would see it like that. "I'd like a heads up if they're close. Keep an eye out for an Austin Martin, Britain told me he had a house here now."

Now we both looked like we were walking through a nightmare.

"What time do I have to be back?" I asked Kara when we walked in the kitchen, heading for the garage door.

Kara seemed surprised by my question. She pursed her lips. "What time were you thinking?" she asked, looking behind me at Madison.

"Hard to say..."

"Well, I guess just let me know if you plan to go anywhere else afterward," Kara said.

"You get a 'F' in the category of supervision. Mom's housekeeper would give me ten minutes to go to the bodega."

"I think she gets an 'A,'" Madison said, pulling my arm to the back door.

"Thank you, Madison," Kara yelled as we closed the door.

I hesitated on the steps—the guitar sound was gone. It was almost silent, only almost because I wasn't sure if I was hearing faint whispers or the wind just outside the garage. I stared at the driveway and watched as the shadows of the trees swayed gently across the pavement. I took in a breath and told myself right now it was only the wind.

"Are you driving?" I asked, knowing that if the shadows attacked again, I'd not only have to worry about my life, but hers as well.

"You're the one with the new car," she said, walking to my passenger door.

"How far is it?" I asked as I pulled my headphones out. I didn't trust a spotty radio signal.

"Maybe forty-five minutes. It's our spot. The field with a stage, screens behind the bands," she said, climbing in the passenger seat.

Painful flashes came to mind, but I didn't engage. Like a victim of starvation, I could only sip my way back to good health.

I slid in the driver's seat. "Call out which way to go, k?"

She must've told me to turn down a hundred different roads. I was sure I'd never remember how I got to where we were going.

"I don't get your gaps," Madison said.

"Not like I can explain it. I don't get 'em either."

"You're fighting it though. Your vibe would say that no matter how high your walls are."

Walls. Walls. Walls. I now hated this word. I didn't know how to take what she meant, but I went with assuming she was pushing me to let her in, tell her every crumb I could remember.

I adjusted myself in the seat. "It hurts, okay? Sometimes...I remember two truths."

"I told you to go with your gut," she said like this topic had been covered. "The mind relies too much on perception. Someone gave you a bad script."

How would she know what was going in my head—, pain stopped the thought. After a tight breath or two I started to imagine all her deep gazes in my direction differently. Was she like a medium or something? Was I? I was running like hell from dark whispers. Was she using them? I knew the dead were different. I'd heard enough to know they were.

Living and dead were both masses of energy; only on the topside we didn't see ourselves as energy. We looked solid, grounded with gravity. I could only guess the reason the whispers could get into my head, know my name—alter my emotions as my body reacted to how close they were was because they saw us as what we were: energy/ vim. It would be like me reaching into a pool of water; how I touched it would impact the ripples.

Cagily I glanced toward her finding her engaging stare on me.

"Keep riding that train of thought," she said.

I thought of my day. How I was assaulted in my schools hall and on my first drive in this car. How could anyone use those spirits for good?

"Bad detour," she said as fear had me gripping the steering wheel.

"I don't want to see what I hear," I said glancing to the darkness.

"Charlie, you conquered this."

"When," I spat.

"Kindergarten. Before then nothing scary ever surfaced. Outside of home, away from our parents, it was different." She leaned my way. "You're the reason I'm not scared. You saw the good first."

"We're not hearing the same thing," I swore in a quiet, controlled voice. The cold chill of the void covering the missing hours I was at that party promised me I was right.

"We are, only someone changed the way you're coming at it. They want you to be afraid."

I settled back in my seat and strived to untangle my thoughts as I drove. It was easier when she didn't stare me down. I think she got that; mostly she stayed on her phone or watched the road.

She could preach all she wanted that I wasn't afraid of the evil attachment I had; it wasn't going to help until I believed it. Sitting in near silence, my vibe mingling with hers, a safety net I'd always known, it was easy to think I could glare down the darkness when it came. I knew when I found myself backed against a wall nothing would be easy about it.

"Turn where those cars are turning," she said, sitting up in her seat.

I followed the cars down a gravel driveway, then across a grassy area. Once I parked, I reached for my phones. I thought I felt them vibrate when we were driving.

"Are you not getting out?" Madison asked.

"I'll sit on the hood if I want to see better. Go ahead. You don't have to keep up with me."

I'd passed enough cars with our graduating year written across their windows to get that this field party was a celebration. Madison and me haven't gone to the same school since middle school. I knew the people she roamed the halls with, but not like I used to. I wasn't feeling all that social.

"I'll be back," she said getting out.

Bianca's had texted. Glad to see the jailer is feeling generous. I'll be at Brit's we can hang there. No Id's necessary.

I texted back: Don't you have a vacation to shop for?

I knew she wouldn't get it until I had a signal again, but at least it was sent.

Britain had texted too. The first one said: text when you have the all clear again.

The next one said: Yeah. She's hot now. Good one.

I hesitated, trying to think of what to say back. When nothing came to me, I shoved my phone in my bag.

I glanced up and noticed that a new band had begun to play. I could hear a nervous anxiety in the lead vocalist, but his audience was forgiving as they screamed and danced to the music. By the time he reached the chorus, his anxieties were gone and he took over the stage he was on. It always made me smile when I witnessed someone own their talent.

They played their set, then two more bands played.

Madison kept coming into my line of sight, like she was making sure I hadn't ditched, then she'd fall back into the crowd. This time she kept walking toward me.

"Having fun?" I asked as I got out and pulled myself up on my hood, trying to show effort when it came to this 'fun' gig.

"I guess, hard to say goodbyes."

She stared me down, looking for a response. I was grasping at nothing. It wasn't hard for me to tell my class goodbye. When I got my social apps back they'd all still be there. As I thought about the fall pain spiked in my head. There was something there. For all I knew Madison signed up for a school forever away. I wasn't asking. I didn't even know what I was doing in the fall, which was a mind bender. With the kind of mom I had you'd think my college plan would've been set in stone.

"I think we should go closer for the next band," she said.

"I like this spot," I said. "Who's playing anyway?"

"They don't really have a name...," She lifted her chin. "It's my cousins band. The twins."

I didn't shift my expression to the panic I felt on the inside, but Madison grinned like she saw hope in the vibe I was putting off.

The field went pitch dark right then. Then the screen behind the stage blinked on and off rapidly. Throughout almost all of the other bands, the crowd had lingered by their cars, or was having conversations over the music. They still moved to the music and cheered, making them a good crowd to perform in front of. But their attention was divided. As if on cue, everyone in the field and the cars around us moved to the stage.

The crowd, including Madison, screamed as the shadowed images of Draven and his band came to the stage. My heart pounded against my chest as I studied his perfect silhouette holding a guitar and adjusting his mic. He was just too perfect. The stage enhanced every part of his tall, powerfully lean body.
Chapter Six

The screen behind the band turned black, then a dim spotlight illuminated Draven's guitar. It looked like it was suspended in thin air. As he began to play, the crowd roared. Their vibe hummed through me like an unexplainable surrender. We were all in a million different places when it came to the state of our minds, but in this moment, we were one. We remembered the darkest moment has its end, we remembered how it felt to be alive, invigorated by emotion.

The drums, and then the lead and base guitars erupted, and the stage was lit with a bright light. I was completely captivated by the moment I was in. Draven's presence incased me. I didn't care what I did or didn't know as I stared at him.

His twin, Aden, was beside him. As he took over the lead guitar, I edged forward on the hood, wanting to hear Draven's voice more clearly over the roar of the crowd. His tone was spellbinding. When he sang the lyrics 'My soul intertwined with the divine...an angel I wish were mine,' it was almost more than my body could take.

Madison looped her arm though mine and pulled me toward the bed of a truck that was next to us. The people who owned the truck had rushed to the stage with everyone else. The entire crowd was rocking in perfect rhythm with the music. As Madison pulled me up, my eyes shot to center stage. I was almost certain Draven looked me in the eye. Madison put her arm around me and rocked us along with the crowd. I couldn't believe how alive I felt listening to them play.

Not a single fear or pain had the power to touch me.

When the song ended, he didn't stop to talk to his audience. They just began their next song. I recognized this song, too, but I didn't know from where. Sure that I was hidden in this dark crowd, I moved freely to the music, something I'd normally only do when I was alone. The band played into the next song without pause. When it was over, Draven simply said, "Thank you," then stepped back into the darkness. The crowd screamed for them to come back, but they never did.

A lot of people were starting to leave now.

"Is it over?" I asked Madison when we got back to my car.

"Just a break. Most people just came to see them. The bands that played before have another set."

I knew that would take hours, "I'm not gonna make it through another set. This day's been hell."

I sat down in the driver's seat of my car. Madison walked over to the passenger door, opened it, and leaned in. "What are you doing?"

"Going home. Need a ride?"

Like a viper she reached over and grabbed my keys. "Tell you what," she said, backing out of the door.

I flew out of my door, prepared to fight her to get them back. I knew that look in her eye. She wasn't going to pull a Kara and let me pretend to hide behind my infliction. She was going to walk me right up to Draven.

I wasn't ready.

Madison flung her hand back as far as she could then threw my keys in the field behind us. "When you find your keys, we'll go."

I could've ripped her to shreds! She threw them in grass that was almost two inches tall that cars were creeping across. "Seriously!" I stopped my rant there; she'd already run off. The race was on. I had to find them before she came back.

The cars that were driving over the field she threw them in were starting to thin out. I reached in my pocket and turned up my music as loud as it would go, then stuffed my headphones in. I stared at the shadows the car lights were creating across the grass. Once I was sure they were ordinary, I began to walk cautiously forward, studying the ground.

I tried to take advantage of the light passing cars gave but now they were too few and far to really help. I crouched lower, looking for any sign of the silver on my keys then all at once I saw the shadows across the blades of grass began to slither toward me. I held in a scream that wanted to come out and somehow found anger. "Go away," I spat. They began to grow. I was surrounded by dark figures. My skin chilled, emotions that were not mine sickened my gut, I felt dislocated—like these beings were probing my soul searching for a way to break in and use me.

Under my breath, I began to hum the melody that was blaring in my ears, then out of nowhere, the field I was standing in lit up and the figures instantly evaporated. A sly grin spread across my face as I glanced toward the bright headlights that were shining on me. They turned slightly, revealing the gray Hummer they belonged to. My heart started to beat violently against my chest as I saw the shadowed driver put it in park.

He slowly opened his door and stepped out. I could see him clearly now: it was Draven. He came cautiously closer, stopping feet before me. I reached my hand in my pocket and turned the music down.

This current between us...was ancient—like I'd never known existence without him. The tragedy was, just like with anyone you hold close, once you hit a rocky patch—have it out; you can feel the rips when you approach each other again. The threads that bind you to them either reach to fuse once more, or decide the break was necessary.

"Are you OK?" he rasped.

There was no good way to answer him.

"Charlie...do you really not remember me?" he asked as his eyes, full of a painful anger, danced across my face.

With a pained cant of my head I said. "What truth do you want?"

His gaze drew me in as the silence pounded between us. "We can play it this way," he said finally as he kicked his chin up.

I shifted my weight, confused as ever. "What way?"

"Start over," he said like the words destroyed him.

"Because you can see I'm messed up or because you want to?"

I didn't need his pity. If I hurt him—if we hurt each other, then we both deserved to deal with it when we were on even ground. When I knew who we both were.

"I could never not want you, Charlie." He glanced away lost in his own mind then took a step closer. "I never wanted my edges to cut you. Whatever you did, you did it because you're righteous. You're scared as hell right now. I'm not going to add to it. You want to roll with the 'we're new' card until it doesn't hurt to remember, I'm good with it. You want Madison to help you get there, us to step back, that's fine too."

My hands flinched to reach for him, to spill it all. I don't know how I remained silent. The pains in my head were sharp as hell as I tugged at dormant memories. Anything and everything in my life that would lead to him was absent. The real question was why. Did I want it that way to protect him? Or did something want it that way to make us weak?

"All I have to roll with right now is how I feel," I said. "Logic has been absent for a while."

He smirked like my words were ironic. "How are you feelin', Charlie?"

The words spilled out, refusing to be edited, "Like you're my salvation."

He tensed and looked down before only lifting his eyes. "I'm not."

I knew what real pain felt like then, the crack in my soul made the migraine stabs seem like a sniffle

"You're mine," he said gruffly, turning my entire emotional downfall on its heels. He stepped so close I could feel the heat of his body but he never touched me. "Whoever did this to you is gonna pay."

I broke my stare with him and moved back, swaying my head. "You don't know what you're saying."

"No," he agreed. "I feel it like you do; I'm not scared of what's in the void."

"And if it makes you forget me? Forget what you know now that I don't?" I countered. I'm no badass, but I'm not a coward either. What I faced was unthinkable. It changed my life.

His hand reached for my chest, just the bend of his fingers landed above my thrashing heart. "You remember," he stepped back. "For now, this is new."

I started to protest, feeling more balanced the longer he stood in my personal space, but Madison approached. Her emerald stare shifted between Draven and me. My skin turned crimson, as I owned panic that promised all those I cared about were breaths away from a war they were not ready for.

One slight sway of Draven's head when Madison's questioning eyes landed on him obliterated the bad vibes. The war would come, but tonight we were just kids leaving a concert.

"Here," she said handing me my keys. She shrugged off my glare. "Like I'd really throw them."

"Yeah," I said turning to go to my car. I needed space to process what just happened.

"The GPS has no signal," Madison reminded me, trying to hasten my brilliant escape plan.

I'd taken almost four steps before I felt Draven's hand land on my shoulder, then slide down my waist as he turned me to face him. I drew in a breath as I absorbed his touch, the electric sensation of it.

"Let her ride in my truck. I'll show you how to get back."

I narrowed my stare on him. "Ride in your truck?" I repeated, trying to figure out how this lined up with any of the options he'd given me, or the 'we're new' one I thought we picked.

Madison started shifting in place, clearly judging what my response might be. "Sounds like a plan to me," she said, darting toward his Hummer.

I turned and went to my car. I needed one of those quiet moments so I could zap back in and see how the pieces fit together.

In the driver's seat, I turned up the music in my headphones just loud enough to cover the threat of the whispers. I couldn't believe she'd just ditch me like that!

The lights from the Hummer came up from behind me. I was supposed to follow him, so why was he behind me? I was looking out the driver's side window when I heard my passenger door open. For a second, I thought Madison had realized how cold it was to make me drive back on my own, but when I turned to the passenger side, I saw Draven climbing in.

"What's going on?" I asked tensely, hitting 'Pause' on my phone as I watched him push the seat back so his legs could have more room.

"I told you I'd tell you how to get back," he said, with a rakish grin that surely didn't belong to the guy who was talking all deep and dark to me minutes ago.

What the freak am I going to do if the whispers and shadows attack me in front of him? I was horrified.

"Yeah, but I thought you meant follow you."

I inhaled the addictive, familiar, aroma of his cologne as he leaned closer to fasten his belt.

"For the record, you're my second passenger. Third, if you count my teacher," I said, putting the car in drive. "Let's hope I don't jack up our newness with my untested skills."

He bit his lip, trying to pin a sexy grin from morphing into place. "Yeah, this'll work," he said to himself. "That way," he said, ticking his head to the left.

I turned the wheel then crept down the gravel driveway, fighting the glare of the headlights coming from his Hummer. He reached up and moved my rearview mirror, taking the torture of the lights away. He then gently grasped my ear buds and pulled them out. His warm fingertips brushed against my skin.

I angled my eyes at him.

"Seeing and hearing help when you're driving."

I looked in front of me at the dark road, listening for any reason to put my headphones in.

"You don't need them."

I glanced his way trying to seem like I was as chill as he was. "Making it hard to seem new when you act like that."

He arched one brow.

"Reading me and stuff."

A delicious grin ghosted across his lips. "I can't help how aware I am of you, never have been able to."

He nodded toward the road, telling me to focus. "You know there's an outlet here to plug your phone in so you can hear your music, right?" he said, reaching for the dash to show me.

"I do now." A mile or so later I said. "New or not, I'd mention I saw you talking to my mom today, or listening to her talk. Was it about me?"

His silence told me the juice of the conversation was better left unrepeated right now.

"I heard about this car," He said finally. "And, ah, later...that she asked you to play for her."

I wasn't feeding into this topic.

"Charlie, that's epic."

"Maybe, either way, I'm messing it up." I tightened my hands on the wheel. "What talent I have is lost in the void."

He pointed for me to turn again then let his hands rest on his knee. He simply couldn't keep his fingers still as the played a silent sound.

"Then we'll dig it out."

I glanced to him, he shrugged a shoulder, then changed the familiar tone of his voice to a distant 'getting to know you,' one. "Good thing the guy you're hanging with tonight can play well enough to teach you a trick or two."

I was good right here in the middle. New, but not.

"Lucky break," I said smiling.

He didn't fill the silence as we drove. Mostly he answered texts.

"Popular guy," I dryly teased.

"Checking in at home," he said glancing to me. "You wanna stop for waffles?"

"It's, like, almost one in the morning," I said, looking at the clock on the dash.

"Do you have to get up early?"

"I don't know, what time is my music lesson?" I shot back.

"Are you hungry?" he pushed.

I was hungry, but I knew I didn't have any money on me. I really wasn't even sure I had money at my house. I thought there was a good chance I had twenty stashed in my favorite jeans, but I knew if I didn't, Kara would give me some.

"I have to go by my house first. My sister said to tell her if I was going somewhere else. She'll never answer her phone if she's asleep."

As Draven started to text on his phone, I glanced in my rearview mirror, but I couldn't see the headlights of his Hummer anymore.

"Where are they?"

"Aden had to get gas," he said as a new text came in.

"Are they coming? Did you tell them I had to stop at my house?"

I saw him nod out of the corner of my eye. By the time we got to my house I felt those invisible threads between us start to fuse. I wasn't really looking at him from the outside in; we were back in the same bubble.

I still felt guilty as hell we were broken in the first place. That sucks—not knowing what you did.

"I'm not mad at you," he breathed when I turned my car off.

Slowly I glanced to my side at him; a glint of warning was in my eyes. I needed baby steps.

"That's the memory hurting you, the one you let get close then push away. I'm telling you its okay to move on to another one. It doesn't matter."

I canted my head to the side. As odd as his comment was, it fit perfectly into my crazy. Into the crazy Madison boldly made me realize she was aware of on the way to the concert.

"Give me the quick and dirty version," I said. After a sensual smile started to morph across his lips I edited myself. "The blurb."

"Right," he said looking over me. "We stay here now, Aden and me. In middle school until we graduated last year Dad had us almost always in the UK. You and me, we figured out how to deal with the gaps." He cursed as he settled a bit in his seat. "We were in the same state, a couple hours apart," he tensed, "but you felt like you were in another world. I came up to surprise you. Aden was with me."

Draven reached for my arm as I squinted my eyes closed in pain. His touch helped, it grounded me and stopped anxiety from swallowing me whole.

"You told us to go. It was shady. I wasn't thinking supernatural things. I was thinking you found someone less complicated."

"When," I demanded.

"Thursday, figured we could hang out, get you packed to come back here."

The night of the party...

"I'd been home an hour when your mom called."

"So this—," I said waving between us, "this fight is raw."

"I don't think you stepped out, Charlie."

I swayed my head. I may've voids but I never hooked up with Britain, with anyone. For this I was blameless.

"You're lying," I said. "You're mad."

"I'm furious," he said easily. "Not at you."

"That's not fair."

"It is," he said tightly. "I don't see things the way you do. I gotta learn to say I don't instead of acting like I'm cool with you figuring out something's are better left alone."

"I'm not reckless," I affirmed. "I'm not weak."

I felt his agreement in the vibe between us.

"How can you see me fighting with voids in my head?" I asked. "What else to do you see?"

He swayed his head, a silent call on the play. We were shifting back to 'we're new.' I trusted him. If he thought we needed a break from the topic, then we did.

Inside, I found Kara still sitting at the table, headphones in, writing at the speed of light. I waved my hand in front of her to get her attention.

"Are you good with me going and getting waffles?"

"There's food...," she hesitated as she looked behind me, "waffles sound fun. How was the show?"

I glanced over my shoulder to see Draven standing in the doorway.

"Good," I answered for the both of us.

"Aren't you missing someone?" Kara asked.

"They're behind us," Draven said.

"I'll be right back," I said, walking past her.

As soon as I reached the front room, I heard it again: the guitar. It was even more defined than before, almost like it was reflecting how strong I was becoming. I found my twenty in my jeans and ran down the stairs. When I started to go down the last flight, I saw Draven standing in the center of the front room. I slowed my descent.

His eyes were gazing above him and his body was rocking in perfect rhythm with the sound I was hearing. I quietly walked to his side and touched his arm, pulling him out of whatever thought he was in.

"You hear it?" I asked as my eyes searched his for the truth.

His eyes were hooded, balanced; yet holding every emotion. He tenderly reached his fingertips to brush a loose strand of my hair out of my face.

"Hungry?" he asked quietly.

I nodded stiffly. He reached his arm out and let his hand rest on my back, gently encouraging me to lead.
Chapter Seven

The waffle place was packed when we got there. I recognized a lot of the cars there from the field earlier. Aden pulled the Hummer up along side us a second after we parked.

Madison and me got out at the same time, her once over had a glint of hope in it, but I knew she'd expect my alone time with Draven to bring me up to speed faster.

"New-card-couple is...kinda cute," she said.

I drew back as she arched a brow and said, "Didn't really get 'round to talking about abilities, I guess."

"You mean that you're all mind readers?"

"Relax, you're better than all of us at doing it. You aced putting up the do not disturb signs first too."

"Is the sign broken?" I asked sarcastically?

She swayed her head. "I don't care how he brings you back, I just want you back."

She stepped away before my best friend instincts told me to probe her a bit. Madison was uptight, about me sure, but something else was bugging her too.

Draven was standing in front of the Hummer with Aden. They weren't saying a word, but I knew Aden was in the know. Like Madison, he was going to stand on the stage Draven and me were pretending was my life.

"Aden," Draven said with a shallow tick of his head toward his brother to intro us.

"You should've been behind the drums."

My words were bold, like a critic, but I meant them. This knowledge didn't hurt when I pulled it out of my mind. Aden could play just about anything, but the drums had his soul.

"Better to be out front," Aden said glancing at the night just beyond the lights of the parking lot. "Unpredictable atmosphere."

This coded conversation pointed out the obvious to me.

No whispers. They were not dead silent, hiding, like with Britain and Bianca. They were like they were at my house, just outside a comfortable barrier I could give my attention to, or not.

"Come on, guys, there's a table—someone's getting up," Madison said.

I couldn't believe how many people were out this late at night. I felt the nervous anticipation of walking in. I reached to pull my hood up. Draven gently reached for my hand to stop me. As he looped his fingers through mine, the warm, tingling sensation of his presence swarmed through me. "I gotcha."

Every single person in the room turned to look at us as we walked in. Draven squeezed my hand to remind me that he was there. We followed Aden and Madison to an empty dirty booth in the corner. I could tell people wanted to say something to him, or even Aden, but all they did was smile and nod.

I slid into the booth, thinking that if my back was to everyone I wouldn't be so uncomfortable. I was wrong, though, because in front of me was a window that reflected everything behind me. Draven slid in next to me. The way his body fit against mine, the way we both seemed to relax all at once took the edge off.

Madison and Aden sat across from us.

A waitress came over and began to clear what was left from the customers before us, and another woman came up behind her and took our drink orders. Madison glanced behind me. "This is a bad idea. The docs said her life. We don't hang out like this."

"Yeah, well, he thought my house would be too much too fast," Aden said.

I tracked their words as my eyes shifted. "So me feeling anxious here is the norm?"

Draven laughed as he settled a bit more next to me. I don't think he knew he was doing it, but when he relaxed, he all but told me I was acting like the girl he knew.

"I gotta go shut this down," Madison said, pushing against Aden so he'd let her out.

I couldn't help but tense. Shut what down? Did my mind reader crew see a threat? Did they hear something I didn't?

"She knows these people," Draven said. "Them crowding us will only muddy the waters."

"Since we're friends again," Aden said, "maybe we can take this to go. Play some music at our house or something."

"Slow down, bro," Draven said smoothly.

Aden glanced at me, "Sorry." Then went back to scrolling through his phone.

The waitress came back, and as she set the drinks down she asked what we wanted.

"I'll take a waffle. My friend, too," I said to her.

Draven held up the number four to order for all of us. As the waitress questioned him on what else they might want, I glanced outside. I didn't trust any barrier between the darkness and me to hold long.

"Is it bad?" Draven asked Aden with a nod to his phone.

"There's one video, but you can't see it clearly. Downloads spiked, but not much. I told you it would be fine. It was worth it," he said, glancing at me.

The waitress returned with four plates of waffles. I tried to glance at Aden's phone to see what he was looking at as he laid it on the table. I was sure he was checking to see if their performance had caused more people to notice them.

"Jacob's Ladder," I said as the waitress walked away.

I didn't get how I was remembering things without a stitch of pain now, but I was. Jacob's Ladder was exactly what I felt tonight. The music drew me out of the darkest dwelling of my soul and vaulted me toward euphoria, a heaven. I fell right down the same ladder when it was all over, but still. I got the meaning!

I remember the bible story; I remember putting the theory to debate. We all had a ladder to our heaven, and sometimes we fell a bit too far down it. My stare darted to the night beyond the parking lot. Cool band name, I thought. No, no you wouldn't call your band something so ancient. You wouldn't attach the name to such a high vibration, not when the damned already hunted you for salvation.

I swayed my head agreeing with myself. "Anonymous," I breathed. "That's what they call you. What you go with."

Both Draven and Aden were staring me down; Aden broke away first, scouting out Draven's take on the words I spat out, at the very least how to react to them.

I ticked my head toward his phone. "You didn't want the attention. You try to avoid it when you can on the norm. After what—my deal, gave you reason to do more than avoid it." I stared Draven down. "You can reach thousands of souls at once, but you can't. You'd be overrun."

"We," he said. "We."

I stopped right there. I wasn't stumbling into an argument half cocked.

"Are we in more danger now?" I asked, understanding I was a curse. That no matter what they could or could not see or sense about me, they had no idea how cold or dark the beings that lurked in my voided memories were.

"We're good," Draven said ticking his head toward my plate before diving into his like nothing in this universe could rattle his cage, nothing short of me not being at his side.

"Did you call him," Aden asked leaning forward a second after the door opened.

I turned with Draven to see a young guy and girl walking in. They were older than us. I'd guess they were at least in their twenties. They spotted a table on the other side of the room and made their way to it.

Draven turned back. "Kinda, ran into him yesterday. I told him we were playing."

"That's his girl?" Aden asked.

"Crazy, isn't it."

I didn't get what was weird.

Draven swayed his head when he saw my confusion. "I don't think you met Wesley yet. Our friend Austin brought him here."

Austin?

"Don't worry about it right now," he said. "Austin gets our...how we're different. That's all."

Aden glanced at his phone then dropped some cash on the table. "Madison said evacuate."

Draven didn't even ask why as he scooted out and waited for me. My phone went off next.

Head out unless you want to be guilt tripped into going to a party.

You going?

Maybe.

"I'll hang back, talk to Wesley, if Maddie wants a way out, she'll have her chance." Aden said grabbing her food so he could take it to her. "Pick you up in a few?"

Draven passed him a shallow nod as he took my hand and led me out. I hung back once we were outside making sure Madison was good. When I got in the drivers side of my car Draven was toying with my phone.

"What are you doing?" I couldn't hide the panic in my tone.

I knew I didn't lie before about not stepping out, the thing was, if anyone ever heard or saw the way Britain was around me, I wouldn't look so honest. "Adding contacts." He glanced at me. "Some pics. Your phone is looking pretty blank."

"One of many mysteries," I said. "Mom got the music back, when she comes back in town I'll get her to give me what's missing."

As I pulled my belt on I asked. "You don't know my passwords do you?"

He laughed. "Charlie, you post like once a year. Never the real you."

"I'll take all the pictures then," I said as I backed out.

"Maybe not all," I heard him say like he was highly amused with himself. The crimson blush that glided down my body hastened the comfortable vibe. At least it did until the music blared through the speakers I let myself study every song he picked. When someone plays a song for you, they've basically bared their soul. The music he played was empowering and enchanting at once. It made reality seem like a fantasy and an unseen world our true home.

I pulled into my driveway and circled into the garage. I climbed out and leaned against my car. The urge to ask him to come in was overwhelming. I knew if I did, I might come closer and closer to the surface of who I am, but comprehending it would be impossible. I needed time to catch up. Time to make sure my demons hadn't invaded my zip code yet.

He walked slowly around the car, letting his fingertips run across the body. I was beginning to think it was a bad idea just to stand here, that it made me look like I was waiting for him to say or do something.

Maybe I was...

He stepped in front of me; his eyes were starved for recognition. I didn't care how ancient our vibe was, no amount of time could make the electric charge of this guy ordinary.

"I see you," he said tilting his head, leaning closer. He softly reached for my left hand. I could feel pure energy coursing through the warmth of his skin. He looked down at my fingertips and ran his thumb over my soft skin.

"It's been awhile since you played."

Not a single callous was on the tips of my fingers; there was no sign of me pushing through the pain.

"Charlie," he said as our hands folded together. "I'm all for playing for us, keeping it anonymous." He lifted a brow. "But don't you ever hide this part of yourself again."

A nervous blush flamed across my skin. Did I do that? Had I hidden who I was this last semester, right down to music? If I had...I didn't do it on a whim. I went to draw from that notion and argue with him. His finger landed on my lips as he leaned forward.

"You said it was our weapon," he whispered. "Nobody goes to war unarmed."

"Fair enough," I managed. "I don't know how to get it back," I admitted recognizing a vacancy inside of me for what it was.

"Priority number one tomorrow."

I glanced to the darkness.

"Weapons, first," he said. "Then we can talk about your blind spots. Noon?"

I grinned to agree on the time.

He slowly reached his hand to cradle my face, tracing the base of my eye. "When you wake, hold fast to the dream you think you never had 'cause..." he trailed off.

I leaned up, feathering my lips across his. "'Cause that's you holding me."

All the tension left his body as his lips framed mine. The contact made us both groan. He deepened our kiss as he pressed our bodies together. My hands moved up his chest, reaching to outline his face with a passionate embrace.

The sound of his Hummer pulling up divided us.

He gave me one more innocent kiss before he pulled his body away from mine.

"Hold fast," he said walking away.
Chapter Eight

Kara didn't push for details and I didn't offer them as I poked my head in her room to tell her I was back.

I started to hum along with the guitar playing as I walked up the steps that led to my room. With the sound of my breaths, the guitar grew louder, like it had finally been perceived as real and was rejoicing. A smile came across my face.

Once in my room, I slid off my boots and jeans and pulled my phones from my bag. I found a charger for my phone on my dresser. The charger for Britain's phone was still in the box. I plugged them in the wall by my bed and turned on every lamp in the room before climbing under the covers, still humming along with the guitar as it played.

I scrolled through the texts on my phone.

Bianca had texted me back: stop throwing shade see you in a bit.

I wasn't responding.

Britain's last text was thirty minutes ago: Starting to get worried maybe I should just come now...I furrowed my brow and scrolled to the text before that: text me when you get home

I texted back: Asleep.

Instantly, he responded: Good.

This was the norm with us. He was baiting me. Wanting me to ask what he meant by that. I was positive everything he said had a double meaning. Tonight the bait would dangle.

I needed to zone out, and I did.

I kept thinking of who I was when I woke up that morning before I graduated, and who I was now. Then I prayed for who I wanted to be at the end of tomorrow.

I was rattled out of my sleep by a vibrating phone. I squinted my eyes and moaned, prepared to tell Britain to leave me alone and go to sleep, but when I sat up and saw the sunlight coming over the short wall in my room, morning had arrived as charismatically as a blow horn.

With one eye open I read the text. It was a file from my mom. When it opened my camera roll flooded with images. One by one I slid through them. They were of the four of us. My crew. I saw pictures of us across this globe, ones of us when we were just kids.

My mom texted: Late night waffles always cleared my head too

I furrowed my brow as the ghostly music around me elevated as if to agree. I wasn't ready for words, emoji's it was—one laughing face and four hearts were sent her way.

I kept staring at the pictures of Draven and me. There was so much there, a pull that was electric, real. Side by side we looked like we knew what the hell we were doing. I hoped that was a legit perspective.

Realizing noon was minutes away I vaulted up and rushed through my room like a maniac trying to get dressed and straighten the very lived in look I liked in my space.

I heard my phone vibrating and dove for it sure Draven was texting that he was here. Where was this music lesson anyway?

My kick ass start to the day faded when I saw Bianca's text.

It was a picture of Draven and me, one I'd just seen on my legit phone. Hottie. Don't worry. I won't tell Brit. A girls gotta play.

The idea of destroying the phone flared as I aimed my pitch at the wall. Then I stopped. The damage was done. If I had erased my life here the second Bianca and Britain showed it was a fools errand. They were too rich and my world was too modern for me to go black.

I refused to believe that I was insecure enough to think Bianca could make a move on Draven and take him. That couldn't have been my reason. Which left my petrifying void. What the hell did she have to do with it? Why did I fear her more than my haunted life?

No.

I didn't fear her.

I refused to fear her.

I could hear Kara talking to someone downstairs. Warm goosebumps covered my body. Draven was here.

I made a mad dash to give myself a once over and check to make sure I had no unwelcome conversation starters lying around. I'd just kicked the box Britain's phone came in under my bed when I felt the air electrify.

I swung around to see Draven on the top step leading into my room.

Curiously he glanced over me. "Are you all right?"

My smile was a bit too girlish so I slaughtered it as I tossed a 'yeah, I'm trying,' glance his way.

He slowly moved to my side, the silence between us was screaming at me. "What do you see?" I asked.

"Walls," he said biting his lip. "You, still dealing with this alone."

"Buzz kill," I said moving away from him as I rushed my hand through my hair.

"That right?"

I crossed my arms and stared back at him. "I spent serious time staring at pics of us when I woke up. Now...there's this tension."

He chucked his chin up. Silently saying it wasn't him who jacked with my vibe.

I grimaced. "A trick sent me a pic right before you got here. It made me mad."

"Got that much," he said with a slow glance over me.

"I don't want her near you."

"The winning idea that landed us like this," he said as anger flared in his eyes.

Confirmation that Bianca and company were as wicked as my gut told me wasn't helping my bold approach to this day.

"It didn't work. Whatever I did, didn't work. She's got the DL on us by now." I stared him down. "So what does that mean? Should we bail or something?"

He drew his head back in thought then landed his eyes on mine. "We aren't bailing until you are you."

"Don't put that on me. The three of you can't sit here tempting fate, waiting on me."

He ticked his head toward my dad's studio. "Better stock your armory, then. Not touching your blind spots til' you break through this."

I narrowed my stare. "Of all the thing's I've done, of what I've forgotten—forgetting the music trips you up the most, doesn't it?"

He inched closer to me; the heat of his body singed my skin. "Music is your soul. Yes, it bothers me that something was powerful enough to cut that from you." He leaned closer; his lips brushed mine as he spoke. "Music, you—it keeps me pure."

I forgot the topic of conversation when his lips fell on mine and for precious seconds nothing else mattered but the way he made me feel, the way I made him feel.

His hand fell in mine as he pulled me up the stairs to my dad's studio. The sound of the guitar haunting the house amplified, Draven grinned acknowledging it as he strolled toward the windows.

I followed him wondering what he was looking for. He nodded toward his house across the way. "Just checking to see if Aden was up." If I narrowed my stare, I thought I could see Aden lying across the couch.

"Your studio," I said gripping the painless threads of memories coming to me.

"When I play—it doesn't matter if it's the dead of night or the middle of the day—I always look in this direction, at this floor. I know it's good if the lights in this room turn on, and then off."

Hit the breaks!

I was cool with him and me hearing the same sound. I was good with not freaking out as I stood in this room, even though something unseen wouldn't let me leave until I touched a guitar. Calling a spade a spade...I wasn't ready, not yet.

"Blind spot," he said as he turned and moved toward the guitar on the couch.

Determined as ever I reached the couch the same time he did, for the guitar in the same way he did.

"I'll use this one," he said, nodding in the direction of the guitar stand. I moved my hand from beneath his, then walked to the stand and reached for the least intimidating guitar. "Not that one," he said.

I glanced back. He followed me to the stand then carefully reached for one of the electric ones. It was dark gray with smoky black lines running across the body. Intimidating didn't being to explain it. It was iconic, the one my dad played the most on stage. I could feel the vibration of it humming as it lay cold and silent.

"Not ready," was all I managed.

The feeling of static in the air, loose cobwebs and looming energy that was anything but bashful stole my focus.

Draven arched a brow, not commenting on the shift in the air.

"He kept me here yesterday," I warned.

"Sounds right."

"He doesn't scare you?"

Draven slanted his head; silently pointing out next to nothing rocked his balance. I glanced down at the guitar in my hand, then let my fingers grip the neck, feeling the audacity of playing such a beautiful instrument come over me.

Draven took the cord from the amp, and led it to the couch. He moved the case to the floor to make room for me to sit next to him. As I watched him put the strap around himself and adjust his fingers against the strings, I discovered a whole new appreciation for the instrument I was sure he was. The hum of his voice as he toyed with the strings gave me something to focus on, fall into. Something beyond the room and its demanding audience.

I walked slowly to his side, sliding the strap of my guitar around myself before sitting and adjusting my hands. My skin chilled as I felt my fingers being adjusted. Draven glanced up, no expression came from him, but his one look took away the feeling crowding my personal space. Inside I cringed; it's not cool thinking you just shut your dad's ghost down.

Draven reached in his pocket and pulled out a black pick, then handed it to me. I tried to hold my hand steady as I reached for it, but a tremble managed to escape. He gripped my hand in his and locked me in a stare.

I was flying blind, couldn't read minds the way him and the others could, but his frequency was coming through loud and clear. I heard him tell me to chill, that I had this. Every being in this room wanted the best for me. They wanted me to unlock what was inside, what was already mine.

As he arched his fingers around the neck of his guitar, I recognized the chord he was preparing to play.

"C?" I said, asking if that was what I was supposed to do.

He nodded. "C is always first, at least in my book."

I arched my fingers around the neck to get my fingers to line up on the strings. I saw him shake his head no. I knew what I was doing was wrong. My fingers weren't bent the right way. I was deadening other strings by pressing against them. I raised my fingers, only letting my fingertips touch the strings. I felt a burning sensation and the slicing pain of the chord as I tried to hold it in place. I strummed the pick across the strings.

I released my fingers before the sound had a chance to end.

"Listen," Draven said, playing the chord.

One chord. That was all he played, and it was beautiful. It sounded like a perfect beginning, the onset to a beautiful song that could go in any direction. One chord and I felt a wall crumble inside.

"Starting to remember," I whispered.

"Play for me..." he said, letting his eyes fall to the guitar in my lap.

I stared down then arched my fingers again, squinting with the pain. My fingers fell, deadening the strings just as I went to play the chord. Embarrassing frustration blushed my skin. It was just one chord how hard could it really be? I tried again, only to find one of my fingers falling again. I stretched my fingers out as if that would make them longer.

A warm sensation came through my arms and into my hands, and then a gentle pressure closed my hand around the neck. My fingertips lined up across the fret. I played the chord, but I didn't stop there. My fingertips moved on to D, and then E. I flew through those three chords at least five times in random order before the sensation left my hand. I managed to play C and E before I fumbled again.

I nervously glanced at Draven.

"How did that feel?" he asked.

"Not me, I didn't—," he lifted his chin. "Good," I said shortly glancing to the static in the air. I sensed it move back.

"Feel the music and let your fingers play," Draven said, nodding to the guitar.

I raised my fingertips up and stared at the strings. I fumbled through the idea of playing a chord or just playing then I began to move my fingers at random. It was horrifying at first, but then I'd remember what sounded awful and refuse to move my fingers in that way again. After a minute or so, it started to sound like music. I could feel the sound all around me, like I was the core of its existence. I was the music.

When I didn't think I could stand the pain of arching my fingers any longer, I let go. Draven moved closer to me and stared into my eyes as he reached for my hand. It was too numb to tremble as he took it. His eyes fell from mine as he pulled my hand gently to his face so he could see the marks the strings had left on me. Slowly, he let his lips rest on my burning skin.

He let my hand fall and reached his fingertips around the strings of his guitar. "I'll play for you now."

As he played I stared at his fingers. They glided across the strings. The simplest move of his hand would command a sound so powerful you could feel it in your core. He played through at least four songs before he stopped. "Now, you play again," he said, winking at me.

"This is the saddest battle of bands in history," I said as I put entirely too much effort into how to bend my fingers.

I slowly closed my eyes. As I began to play, it almost sounded like a chord, so I decided to just stop thinking about it. I moved my fingertips in a pattern that should have reflected a solid sound, but it didn't. The sound was harsh and unforgiving. I smiled through it with my eyes still closed; telling myself it didn't matter if it was good or bad. It was sound, sound that wouldn't have existed if I hadn't played it. It was an overpowering experience. When the pain became too much, I let go and opened my eyes to find Draven grinning.

"Perfect," he said.

"Closer," I corrected.

When his phone went off he made a face then texted back.

"Everything good?" I asked.

"I don't know," he flicked his jade stare up at me. "Are you ready for Nana?"

My wide-eyes clearly told him it was a debatable topic.

"She wants you to come for dinner."

I slanted my head as memories of her singed through my mind.

"Headaches bad?" he asked.

"Getting easier." An uneasy smile surfaced. "Doc's orders, keep it real and all. Dinner sounds good."

"We can hang out here if that's easier. She gets it."

I started to play; he played with me, hours passed. When I couldn't take the sting in my fingers I fell back on the couch. This was better than finding a second to not think then exploding back into my life with answers I couldn't see before.

"It's a shield," I said turning my head to face him. "You called it a weapon."

Draven relaxed into the couch beside me. "When it gets bad, yeah, you use it as a shield. You can see out, nothing can get to you."

"I used it on you. When we fought the other night, I put you on the outside."

The tight clench of his jaw was clarification enough.

"I didn't want those people near you guys," I said knowing I had nothing to back up my reasons.

"I didn't want you to feel sorry for them," he said as he stood. Pretty much stating what our impasse was.

I stared him down as he put the instruments away. "I don't," I finally said.

He pulled me up. "You do. You've always felt sorry for the damned."

A spike of pain nearly brought me to my knees. "Fine," I said grunting through it.

Draven pulled me against him. "Getting there," he said after a minute.

"I'll meet you at your place in a bit, like six?" I said.

"Yeah," he said distantly. The static vibe in the air vanished; we both glanced up at once. When his eyes met mine again, I saw a boyish grin fill his face as he leaned down at took my lips.

"See you in a bit," he said when he drew away from me.

I stood there for a second staring apologetically at the empty room. "I want to...I'm terrified to see what I hear, but...I want to see you." When the guitar sound filled the air I didn't freak, I grinned then stuffed my hands in my jeans as I made my way back to my room.

Madison was asleep on my bed; I tilted my head questioning how long she'd been there. I nudged her as I climbed in beside her and leaned against the headboard. "Late night?"

She smiled before she opened her eyes. "Spreading good karma. Closing doors." She looked up at me. "Sounded good when I got here. Figure your vice out?"

"Kinda."

She eyed me.

"What do you see?" I asked.

"Your shield in place. Not so sure I like Draven's game plan."

"You don't trust me," I accused, not blaming her. "You think I'll hide what I know, deal with it alone."

She arched a brow. "All I meant was he wants you to have a way to protect yourself. That's always his focus, but I think us seeing what you're tangled in will help. When you have your stride, fine, put up shields. You know I respect your space."

"Very protective," I agreed as echoes of our fight started to move through my mind. Something weird happened during that fight, something weird for us.

I was trying to figure out if it had helped or hurt me when Madison said. "You know they're here, right?"

"Who? Bianca? Britain?"

"I passed an Aston Martin on my way here. Not many of those around here."

I rubbed my hands across my face. "Maybe she's not here—at least, not yet."

"Why does Britain not bother you," she asked a bit defensively.

"He does."

"Not like her."

I shrugged a shoulder. "Bianca is like a live wire, she wants to seem as audacious as hell. Likes it when she takes you off guard, when your shock leads you into a state of blind submission." I made a face as the sour taste for her resonated. I had nothing to back up my opinion. I couldn't list things she'd done, or that I'd heard. I just knew what I knew. She got off on something she shouldn't disrespect.

"Brit," I furrowed my brow. "He's a different kind of predator. Obsessive. He gets so transfixed that I'm sure I can outrun him."

When I sensed Madison draw into herself, I glanced down. Like a fool I got it. She was obsessive too. I wouldn't say she got lost it the weeds, but she did get hung up on things. If she gave you her attention and loyalty it was there to stay. Outrunning someone who looked at life a little deeper would be hard for her. Giving someone shallow, all about the noise, the slip would be easy for her.

"I'm not saying Britain is legit."

"What connects them?" she asked glancing up at me. The tone alone told me she had been tangled up in this question for a while.

"I don't know. It's like Brit is here as a favor or something. Not to Bianca, though."

She rolled on her stomach. "It's all bad, Charlie."

I smirked sure I'd heard those words a million times.

"And good," I said, and then squinted my eyes. "Except for her."

"Play into it for a day or so. They think they chained you. When they think they didn't, they're gonna come knocking."

After Madison left I did some digging in my own room. I found notebooks with songs written down. A few notes here and there, I even found books on lore. Witchy things. I glanced down to a ring I was wearing. When I was playing before I went to take it off, the sharp angle of Draven's eyes stopped me. I assumed then he was telling me to stop complaining about the pain. Now though, as I looked down at the white nugget of crystal on my hand I questioned where it came from, why no matter what I'd worn over the last few days this remained.

I went to draw it off, the guitar around me erupted so loud and fast that I thought an amp had kicked on. Taking the hint I left the ring on then flipped through the tattered pages of a book I'd found. A few minutes later I read a passage talking about cleansing and purity.

It had been on my hand this entire time but now, after reading a few words, I felt like a new person, bolder. So weird how what you need is already there, inside, even stranger that it's easy to forget that it is.

I caught up with Kara for a few minutes before I headed out. I stopped at the covered bridge in my driveway. I had to figure out if Madison was right about seeing Britain's car. I could play confused and lost on the phone; in person it would be impossible.

Are you here? I texted Britain.

I looked to the road ahead of me, watching for passing cars, knowing he'd have the audacity to show up here.

Anxious? Was his reply.

Trying to figure out how much you respect me.

Burn.

I rolled my eyes.

Not a bad drive. Want to go out? he texted.

Can't.

Charlie, drive safe. Storms are coming your way.

My stare flicked to the road then to the overcast sky as I turned the phone off that he sent me. For all I knew he was tracking my every move. I sat there for a second twirling my rings and wondering where I could find more witchy books, more charms to ward off the evil in my life.

When the whispers began to call out my name I turned my music up and started my drive toward Draven's.
Chapter Nine

It was dusk. The time of day I hated. The time of day when shadows ruled the world. I sped through the winding roads, ignoring the shadows as they reached out for my car. As the whispers continued to taunt, growing into an evil hissing noise, I hummed louder.

I was so focused on fighting the darkness that I didn't even have the chance to get nervous as I turned into Draven's driveway. No less than twenty feet in silence came, I slowed down and stopped. As I glanced over my shoulder to the edge of the driveway, I could see shadowed figures standing. I didn't understand their boundaries. I was just glad they were in place.

I turned in my seat and pulled forward. I knew that for the next few hours, Draven would be a distraction from everything.

The clock on my dash said five-forty as I pulled up in front of his house. There wasn't a car in sight. I was sure there was a garage around back, but I didn't feel comfortable enough to go in through the back door.

I stared down at my phones resting on the top of my bag. I hated being forced to hide like a coward. To be safe I sent Kara a text telling her I was turning my phone off, to call Draven if she needed me, then I shut down my connection to the outside world.

I stared up at Draven's house as I got out of the car. The brown stones were uneven, adding to the castle image. The windows were all huge and angled in an arch at the top. It was absolutely beautiful. I slowly climbed the wide front stone steps, trying to get my mind here and nowhere else.

With trembling fingers, I rang the bell. As I waited for someone to come to the door, I glanced at a large Ash tree beside the entrance. A few feet from the ground, carved in its trunk were the initials 'C' and 'M.' I leaned closer to make sure my eyes weren't playing tricks on me. There were other initials beneath them, a 'D' and an 'M.' I remembered watching Draven carve this. I remembered the lecture from his dad, telling him we'd hurt the tree, that it was alive. We were just kids.

That memory was not fleeting, a fog that felt like a dream a petrified person could overlook.

At that moment, the wide wooden door that arched at the top opened. I turned and found Nana peering out at me.

She was my height with silver hair. Age had been good to her. Her eyes were so blue that they looked like water. As she reached her arms out to hug me, an excited smile came across her face.

"There she is," she said.

One embrace and she came flooding to the surface of my mind. I still wasn't chill with her, though. I knew I'd done something wrong, broken values she'd taught us. Like with my mom, it was shame that kept me locked inside, waiting to take her cues on where we stood, and how we could get back to where we were.

I blushed and tried to smile. I looked behind her as I heard the electrifying sound of a guitar and the explosion of drums fill the air.

When I glanced back to her, she was reviewing me the same way the others had. I tilted my head letting the details of my memories flutter, and then take root.

We called it 'seeing' we never said we were soothsayers, clairvoyants, or sensitives. We could see what was, what is, but not what will be. Human intent can change any predicted path. Those who thought they could see the future were only reading the forecast of the skies, judging your known patterns.

"I'm blind," I managed to say as I my lip trembled and cold reality slapped me. I'd lost more than I imagined.

Nana's grin was patient. "Nothing can hurt you here...come," she said as her eyes fell into mine again and her smile grew once more.

As I crossed the threshold, a warm sensation absorbed me. Calm. I felt really calm all at once. No stress.

Nana circled me as she nodded at the thin air around me. With that gesture, the warm sensation faded, and in its wake I felt numb.

My eyes shifted around me. The energy in my house was male, dominant and protective. Here I felt a female presence, protective in a different way.

"There you go," Nana said. "It is not with these eyes you see," she said reaching to caress the base of my dark eyes.

"It's alright to be scared. We all need to be reminded of boundaries at times, to understand invincibility is a state of mind." She squared her shoulders. "If we have them, so do they. Now you know to look past the noise."

I focused on the music playing upstairs it chilled my crazy thoughts. "That sounds really good."

Her grin grew. "They got some idea an hour or so ago and have been up there going at it ever since. I'll let you get them when dinner is ready. Come," she said drawing me toward the kitchen.

The entire kitchen was a gray and black stone. The walls were jagged, but the counters and floor were smooth. As I sat my bag down in the corner, I could see she had all kinds of pots boiling at once.

"Slice the fruit," she said, pulling out a stool that was tucked under the island in the center of the kitchen. I rinsed my hands and took a seat, then started to slice strawberries.

"Considering all things, your mom looked great when I saw her yesterday," Nana said, looking over her shoulder as she stirred her pots at the stove. "I did tell her she was working too hard, though. No need for the overkill."

"It fell on deaf ears, I'm sure," I said, reaching for the grapes so I could pull them from the vine.

"My sweet girl, your mother does what she does to protect you. Foundation, independence, a sanctuary...you needed all these things."

"Still do."

Nana set the pot of vegetables down, then glanced to my side and smiled at the thin air. I couldn't see anything, but I knew someone was there.

I started to move to the music I was listening to, Nana did as well. It was really cool to see a woman her age understand the sound so perfectly. I finished making the fruit bowl then helped her slice the bread. We worked in silence, but it wasn't awkward. It was peaceful. It was peaceful because I could remember doing this a thousand times over with her. It wasn't crystal clear, but I knew where everything was in this kitchen. I knew how to work at her side.

"Almost done," she said, tossing the creamy sauce over her pasta and vegetables. She then looked at the ceiling and said, "Sounds like they are, too."

I focused on the sound. The drums had stopped, but the guitar played on.

"You want to get the glasses ready?" she asked as she put pitchers of tea on the counter.

As I pulled them out, I heard Aden say, "Oh no, you have her working? We would've helped."

I glanced over my shoulder to see him kissing Nana's forehead, as he grinned at me. "I heard you rocked out today—good job," Aden said, taking plates out of the cabinet.

"Thanks, but he was lying."

"Will you go and get Draven?" she asked me refusing to let me slide back into 'I'm new' vibe I retreated to now and again.

"Follow the sound," Aden said, rolling down the middle with me. I wasn't new, but I wasn't me yet.

When I reached the door, I glanced back to see them smiling at each other and shaking their heads. I bit my bottom lip and turned to follow the sound of Draven's guitar. I walked through the open front hall to the stairs, which were wide and circled as they climbed to the next floor. Along the walls, there were portraits of Draven and Aden growing up.

At the top of the stairs, there was a wide hallway, and on the wall in front of me there was a beautiful portrait of Draven's mom.

There was a narrow table under the portrait, and I leaned down to look at each picture. A few of them were old. I recognized my mom with Draven's, so young, carefree, and innocent. As I looked at the last picture on the right of the table, I froze. It was one of Draven, Aden, Madison, and...me. I tried so hard to remember that day, but the fog was still blocking me.

All at once, I felt a warm sensation all around me, like an embrace. I didn't hear or see anything but I got the message. My crew needed me. We had plans, and they couldn't be broken.

"Not sure how ready we are, even without..." I stopped before I could point out my failure, how I'd been benched from my own life.

Another message resonated as I heard Draven's guitar scream out. Simply stated it said: then get ready.

I took in a deep breath, then turned to the left and walked down the hall. At the end of that hall, there were stone stairs. I climbed them, knowing the sound of his guitar was up there. It almost sounded like the music was saying 'hold fast to the dream you think you never had'...I smiled, knowing I was probably right.

At the top of the stairs, I found a musician's dream. There were more guitars and amps than I could count in one glance, three sets of drums, and one keyboard. There was a brown suede couch and chair angled in the center of the large oval room. A massive window was on the left side of this room, and Draven was in front of it, playing his guitar as he looked out. I walked softly up behind him.

Over his shoulder on the hilltop in the distance, I could see my house. I could see the studio, the black leather couch, and the stand with all of the guitars. I tapped his shoulder; he glanced back at me, almost as if he were expecting to see me standing there. I let a shy smile touch my lips as he finished the chord he was playing.

"I must've left that light on," I teased, keeping it light as long as I could.

As his eyes moved to the window, mine followed. The light turned off.

He arched his brow as a sexy grin settled on the edge of his lips.

"We see." My expression did its best to hide the rocky emotions inside. "But now I'm blind."

He slowly moved the strap of his guitar from around him and set it down inside the stand under the window. His eyes never left mine. "No...you're not."

I swayed my head but his hands caught my face and pulled my lips to his. My body melted against him as the fire of his kiss electrified me. He was healing me. Every kiss, every push, and every time he relaxed a bit he was bringing me back. He drew his lips away and leaned his forehead to mine. "You don't need to see it right now. Deal with you. You gotta come at 'em strong."

I closed my eyes as the memory of the shadows pushed my panic button. I fought my way passed it. I gave the darkness faces. I gave them lives. I saw them as a pool of water that needed to be reminded how deep it was.

"Hungry?" he asked, sliding his hands down my body as he took my hand.

"You're always trying to get me to eat."

"No, not at all. I just know we have about thirty seconds before Nana comes after us," he said, winking at me.

"Right." I breathed. "I just want to be alone with you."

He gently reached his arms around me once more and pulled me to him. In the silent room, he swayed us back and forth. I breathed in the addictive aroma of his cologne and let myself pretend for a moment that my life could be this simple—that I could feel this calm all the time.

Downstairs, we found Aden and Nana in the kitchen. They'd set the food on the table in the little breakfast nook.

"There they are," Nana said, setting a plate of bread on the table. "I thought about eating in the dining room, but those chairs are just too far apart. This is cozy," she said, reaching her arm out for me to come to her at the table.

Draven tightened his fingers around mine and didn't let go until he pulled out my chair. Nana smiled and nodded at him as if to say good job. I looked back to see him blushing.

We ate in silence for a moment. Everything tasted so perfect. My mom's housekeeper, Rosa, would cook for me, but it didn't taste like this. It was like I could feel the love that went into the meal.

"That sounded good," Nana said, referring to what they were playing before.

"Ideas come from everywhere," Draven said, glancing to his side at me, there was a shy smile there that made my heart melt.

"Did either of you talk to your dad today?" Nana asked.

They both shook their head no.

"His flight landed safe. He wanted to know if either of you had said anything else about your set last night," Nana said.

"He gotta twenty on some paranormal hunters or something?" Draven asked.

Aden pushed his empty bowl away and leaned forward on the table. He glanced at Nana, then at me. "I didn't realize we were already talking about the dark side."

"What is your dad doing?" I asked losing any reminisces of shyness.

"Looking for ancient lore."

"Because of me?" I asked passing a guarded stare at all of them.

"He's always lookin'," Aden said.

"Was this a planned trip?"

They glanced to the thin air.

"They never are," Nana said.

"What lead is he following?" I pushed. I was positive that why they were all cradling me with one hand, the other was poking a demon better left alone.

"The one you told him about," Draven said. "You think there are others like us."

I wasn't buying this easy claim. There were more 'others' like us, lots of people had a thing for hunting the unknown, and even more didn't have a choice in the matter.

Nana, reached for my hand. "You're not afraid to ask questions. Evan is following up on an answer you found."

I held my breath and lost all expression on my face. What did I send him to do? At that moment, thunder clapped in the air. I jumped at the sound of it. Draven reached his arm around me, then gave Nana a warning glance.

"It doesn't have to do with what you got clouding you," Aden said. "Not directly. Dad knows what he's doing."

Thunder rumbled again. Aden got up to help Nana clear away the table. I felt foolish just sitting there, so I started to help, too. Once we had the kitchen cleaned, Nana stretched her arms.

"This old lady is going to bed," she said.

She reached up and kissed both Draven and Aden on the cheek, then walked over to me and hugged me tightly. "I'll see you soon."

Once she left the room, I looked back at them. Aden was moving his hands against the counter like he was playing a mass of chords. "Do you wanna play some more, or would you rather I just disappear and leave you guys alone?" Aden asked, tilting his head and letting his eyes move between the two of us.

I wasn't going to move. I didn't want to give any hidden message in my body language. Draven studied my face for a second. "Let's play. I'll tell you when to go," he said, punching Aden in the arm.

"That's what I wanted to hear," Aden said, grinning as he walked out of the kitchen.

Draven put his arm around me. "Maybe you'll be able to see my favorite audience," he whispered.

I tensed. He let his hand slide down my arm and looped his fingers through mine. "To see...you're going to have to stop that. You're blocking everything," he said looking into my eyes for some kind of understanding.

"I can't help it. The idea of seeing something that is blind to others is terrifying."

"You once told me we were chosen to see what we see for a reason."

The warm vibe in his house came back. Calm came back.

Draven's eyes looked all around me, he smiled confidently at something or someone I couldn't see, then pulled me forward again. The sense of calm stayed with me. By the time we'd reached their studio, I took ownership of it.

Aden was sitting behind a massive set of drums, twirling the sticks.

I let go of Draven's hand and settled on the couch to watch. Draven went to his guitar. The sight of him stepping up intoxicated me. Owning his God given gift, doing something like that, was more terrifying than any darkness. Like the meaning of any song, no one sees our life the way we do. They don't hear the call inside. It's too easy to listen to what others say we should or should not do and ignore the truth we know.

I rocked with the rhythm as they played. The air electrified as the music swarmed around me. It felt like the world was listening with me—they could all see Jacob's Ladder. At least, I wanted it to feel that way. I knew if it was possible for me to find a release in the state of mind I was in, then anyone could. I wanted to show them how. I wanted to give it to them.

Four straight songs later, Aden's beat slowed to a whisper, then Draven's guitar began to cry an almost silent note. He nodded for me to come to him. I can't explain it, but I almost felt pushed to him. Not in a bad, suffocating way, more like someone was nudging me in the direction I needed to go.

I stood up slowly and stared into his eyes as I crossed the room. In that breath, the room was empty and silent... we were the only souls in this world. Once I reached his side, his guitar bellowed one final note, so hard that I felt it tremble through me. His eyes slowly broke away from mine and glanced to the window. I followed his stare and watched as the lights in my father's studio turned on and off again—twice. I stared calmly at the room as the light remained on.

"Do you see anything else in this room?" he asked in a voice just above a whisper.

"I can't see past you," I whispered.

A boyish smile spread across his face. "I can handle that."

I glanced back at Aden, but he wasn't paying any attention to us. He was on his phone.

"I'm sure this would be a good time for you to tell me to go, but Austin just texted me and said that he's at the door and asked should he use that one or another one," Aden said with a sly smirk on his face.

Draven's eyes moved to me, then he quickly sat his guitar down and ran down the stairs.

"Should I go?" I asked.

He shook his head "Draven just wanted to make sure he used the front door."

Thunder and lightning erupted all around the house. I jumped at the sound of it.

"It's getting too bad for you to drive anyways," Aden said looking up at me.

I glanced out the window and watched the trees fight the wind. I was terrified of what I'd face on my drive home. The shadows were furious with me for coming here. I could only imagine what price I'd pay for staying this long.

"Charlie," Aden said.

I jumped out of the thought I was in and looked at him. He stood from behind his drums and walked to me. "Don't worry about what's outside. It can't hurt you unless you let it, and it knows that."

I tried to smile and act like I knew what he was talking about, to pretend that I wasn't fighting this war on my own, but it was clear that he could see the emptiness behind my expression.

"I hope you're right. It sounds dangerous," I said as the thunder crashed again.

"Listen...I don't agree with the slow roll path Draven is trying to take to reach you—if it were me, I wouldn't have the patience. Me and him can't see past the moment we left that night. We're looking at the same void, feeling it the way you do. " He ticked his head toward me. "You made the choice to keep us out before someone made a helluva lot choices for you. The faster you let us see it, the more prepared we'll be."

"I want to see why I held it back in the first place. There might be a justifiable reason I chose to fight it alone."

"It's not safe for you to be alone."

"I'm still standing," I rebutted.

"Charlie, you have no idea how terrified we were that night. Getting that call from your mom." His eyes raced across mine. "Whatever happened, it happened to all of us." His head dipped so he could see deeper into my eyes. "We deserve to know."

Draven came in the door at that moment. He looked sternly at Aden to judge what he was talking to me about. Aden raised his hand to silently say he knew his boundaries, then made his way to the couch.

With Draven was a guy, maybe twenty-two. He was dressed in black from head to toe. The color seemed to bring out his angelic hazel eyes.

"Austin, this is...Charlie," Draven said, nodding in my direction.

Austin smiled oddly as if to say hello. I stared back at him as flashes of forgotten conversations came to me. It was rapid and confusing, the kind of memories I knew I would have to dwell on just because of how wild they were—but I knew the bottom line.

Austin was as human as they came, but he could travel to other dimensions. He found us by accident. For a long time, we'd thought he was our way out. He knew people who were experts on lore, not lore of one world, but all of them. He'd always believed our sight took us beyond the borders of the world we knew.

This was as exciting as it was terrifying. You can go anywhere and find someone who believes in ghosts, evil—you'll find someone who knows someone who crossed a medium or a practicing witch. Finding someone who believes there are pathways to other dimensions and you can break free from the one you're in along with its curses...you won't find someone like that. Not in the mainstream nonfiction section of life, at least.

I heard the swirling arguments. What if we contaminated wherever we went? Could we really leave our families behind? Was running right or wrong?

I rocked back as this awareness slammed into me. My life just got a whole lot more complicated than a few nasty haunts.

I gave Austin a shallow detached nod as I slid back into myself, trying to keep it cool as I unraveled my latest reality check.

Austin's smile fell we he saw my delayed awareness. "Pleasure is mine."

"We just saw Wesley. He looked happy—are they leaving with you?" Aden asked Austin.

Draven nodded for me to take a seat in the chair. When I did, he sat on the arm next to me.

Austin's eyes shifted back and forth between Draven and me as he sat next to Aden. "No, not yet, I," he looked at Draven, "I need to talk to you so I can make sure I know my boundaries," he said looking over me. "I don't want to mess you up."

Aden smirked. "She was the only one that believed you the first time around—even though we all saw you just appear." He almost sneered. "Might be good for her to speed this up."

I drew back as the memory slammed into me. I even looked to the spot I knew Austin had appeared years before while we were all playing.

After a hard glance at Aden, Draven said. "I'll stop you if it's too much. It's not as bad as Aden thinks."

"The hell," Aden muttered.

Austin leaned forward before Aden or Draven had a chance to cross any more words.

"I have people from Chara with me, Charlie...they're eager to meet all of you."

My gaze grew a little wider.

Chara was his home. A home that he told us was full of peace, bliss.

"You're a traveler," I said a bit boldly.

Austin lifted his chin, daring me to go on.

"You move through dimensions, through something called a string. A glowing light that has storms of energy in it. A storm brought you to us by accident, but your world does not believe in accidents. It believes in fate. You're supposed to help us figure out why we can do what we can do."

I leaned forward in my chair resting my elbows on my knees. "I don't know what Pandora's Box I've opened...bringing a curse to your world is not a fear, it's a likelihood.

Austin lowered his head then raised his hazel eyes to look at me. "What can I do to help? I'm not good with knowing someone struck you."

I swayed my head. "I just need time."

Austin eyed the ring I was spinning then glanced up to Draven. "I have more of those."

I glanced between them as Austin stood and pulled more clear crystals out of his pocket. "Chara magic?" I quipped dryly.

"Magic is the belief you put in something," Austin said. "These simply cleanse your vibe." He said handing them to me. "I'll be back in a few weeks to check on Wesley. Sooner if I can."

Draven glanced up at him and said, "Travel safe."

"Always," Austin said then he looked at me. "It was good to see you."

I smiled faintly and nodded.

"See ya, Aden," Austin said, waving behind him as he left.

Aden waved as he stood and stretched. "I think I'm gonna disappear now."

"Maybe I should go—it's late," this was the lamest thing I could possibly say after what just happened, but I was on auto pilot clicking through what I knew as I gripped the stones in my hand.

The thunder clapped again, and the wind charged against the house. "If you really wanna go I'll have to take you. It's not safe," Draven said.

My eyes drifted up to his. "I'd like that."

I wanted to be alone with him. I wanted to understand why I had plotted to escape this world—how that was even freaking possible. I had to know how badly I messed up what we had put in place.

"I'll see you soon," Aden said as we left the room.

Draven looped his fingers through mine as he guided me down the steps.

"Do you need anything out of your car?" he asked.

"Just my phone. I'll get it," I said, letting go of his hand before he could volunteer. I didn't want to explain to him why I had two phones.

I opened the door just as lightning illuminated the sky. I ran as fast as I could, getting completely soaked. I had to search in the dark for where I threw them earlier. Once I found them, I tucked them under my shirt and ran back inside.

"Sure you wanna go?" he asked.

I glanced around his place. It felt safe, but here I was stimulated to remember. At home I knew my space. I could think about what I already uncovered.

He opened a small closet door in the entry hall and reached in and grabbed the black hoodie with a Celtic cross, then slowly reached to take the one that was drenched off me. A warm chill danced down my spine.

"This one's dry," he whispered, holding it out for me to put my arms through.

As I pulled it around myself, I smelled the addictive aroma of his cologne and smiled. It made me feel safe and warm. As he looped his fingers through mine and pulled me through the hall to the kitchen, then into the garage.

His Hummer was backed in next to another one that was solid black. He opened the passenger door and helped me climb in. As I waited for him to walk around to the driver's side, I told myself to just breathe—it was just one short drive home. I wasn't driving, and I was strong enough to ignore the shadows and whispers no matter how violent they were.

Draven slid in and pulled his belt around himself then gave me a once over as he pressed the button to open the garage door.

"Did Aden say something to you while I was talking to Austin? Or did what you remember about Austin freak you out?"

I hesitated before I answered. "Aden...he just wants to get a peek at my horror show."

He put the Hummer in drive. I looked forward into the darkness at the wind and rain thrashing in every direction. I reached for the radio just as he did. He smiled slightly as he turned it up then reached for my hand as he drove to the edge of his driveway.

"Maybe I should just stay here until the storm passes."

He let go of my hand long enough to flip a switch on his dash. Lights beamed so brightly from the Hummer it was hard to see the night. "We're not prisoners of the darkness," he said, glancing at me.

I almost told him about what happened in the school hallway, or even on my first drive in my car, but I held that back. I'd rather believe I'd overreacted.

I focused on the music that was playing as he pulled forward. As we got closer to my house, I let go of Draven's hand and reached for the radio to turn it down. I closed my eyes and focused on every sound I could hear. The whispers were faint, but I could make out words. I could swear I heard, "Draven, Charlie" and the word "Come" overlapping with one another.

All at once, they stopped. I opened my eyes to see us pulling into my garage.

"Safe," Draven said under his breath as he looked at me.

Lightning illuminated behind the garage as thunder crashed above us.

"The problem we have now is that I have no way of making sure you are..." I said as I watched the wind punishing the trees with a raging force. "I think you should stay here until this blows over."

His eyes softened as he put the Hummer in park. "You really want me to stay with you?"

My heart started to pound in my chest. "I—I just don't want you to get hurt because of me."

"You're worth the pain. Trust me." He reached for my hand and laced his fingers through mine, his thumb started to trace small circles on my skin.

"When you do that, I feel your skin hum." I said quietly, watching his thumb move and remembering how magically his hands seemed when he played.

He leaned closer to me; his entrancing jade eyes were just inches away. "Your skin hums, too."

He held my gaze and leaned closer to me.

"Breathe," he whispered.

I did more than breathe. I slammed my lips against his. There was no shock or hesitation that came from him. He leaned to my side deepening our kiss but I was already drunk on him and pushed against him, he let me.

I crawled across the console onto his lap. I leaned my head back as I felt his lips move to my neck, his hands glided from my thighs to my hips, as my fingers threaded through his hair.

This was some kind of wicked power we had. It took next to nothing to draw us into euphoria. I hunted the slightest reaction from him then played on it; it was the same with him. We were proving to each other that there was something we could not see that was binding us. We may be young, wild, and on fire, but our vibe was ancient.

We could've been a thousand people in just as many lives. We both might be blindly reborn with weapons we didn't understand and enemies that lurked in the shadows. None of those insane, deep thoughts mattered. This rich, invigorating sensation between us promised we were immortal. One way or another, we'd find our way to these moments that made every hell worth it.

Thunder exploded in the sky making me jump forward in his arms. His held me tighter. His head was buried in my neck, his hot breath cascaded down my chest.

"I feel all of you here," he whispered. "No divide."

I cradled him in my arms and swayed us back and forth to the rhythm of the wind.
Chapter Ten

Draven's phone vibrated breaking the spell we were lost inside of.

"Kara," he said as I landed back in my seat. "In the garage," he said as he answered.

The back door opened and Kara waved us in. "I was calling to tell you to stay there—we're under a severe storm warning."

"Yeah, it's pretty bad out there," I said, looking back at Draven as I climbed the steps inside.

"I don't think you should drive back until it passes, Draven," Kara said. "Why don't you guys go play music or something?"

"Sounds perfect," Draven said.

She glanced up at Draven; he shook his head no once and the hopeful expression Kara had that I was right as rain now fell.

"I'm done for the night," she said. "If this gets worse, wake me up so we can go down to the basement."

"If we play, is it gonna keep you up?"

Thunder crashed above the house as I said the words.

Kara arched her brow. "I hate storms. Turn the amps up, will you?"

I started to pull Draven toward the living room. With each step we took, the louder the guitar haunting my home became. By the time we reached the stairs, it sounded like we were standing in the center of a concert.

"If she could hear this we wouldn't need to play for her," I said, glancing back at him.

"It's not hers to hear."

When we reached my room, I let my bag fall by the short wall, then followed him up the stairs that led to the studio. He walked to the window and looked toward his house, and pulled out his phone. I cautiously walked up behind him. I could see almost everything in his studio from here. Aden was sitting on the couch with a guitar across himself; he reached in his pocket and pulled out his phone.

"Hey," Draven said as he answered. "I'm gonna stay over here for a while if it dies down before you pass out, will you just bring her car over? We can ride back together."

Draven listened as Aden spoke then responded, "Yeah, it's pretty vicious out there."

Aden waved at me through the window. I smiled awkwardly and waved back. Draven slid his phone back in his pocket.

"It shouldn't be this bad, should it," I said, not talking about any storm cell.

He canted his head as he moved away from me pushing the couch away from the window as he did. He set a path for a guitar.

"I'm making them mad," I said crossing my arms.

He cursed under his breath then sat the guitar in his hand down as his eyes found me.

"I don't answer when they call my name, you don't either." I accused.

"Not in front of you, no."

It was crazy, but hearing he was helping made me proud. Wait. How did I know he was helping?

"What do you say?" the question wasn't really for him, but me. He let me wrestle with it as the static vibe in the air introduced itself once more.

I saw a ripple of water in a still pond in my minds eye; each ripple washed the murkiness away, the sand settled. "You change the wave. You clear the water—free them."

He drew his chin up.

"You think it's a waste of time," I said.

I was on a roll. Peeks and valleys of conversations we'd had alone and with the others came back to me. My skin flushed as a sinking feeling came to me. "It was Jacob's Ladder at first; we thought we were sending out a beacon, drawing more than we can handle in." I swayed my head. "Not playing live, stripping our stuff from the net, all that didn't slow them down." I took a step closer to him. "I told you something was pushing them out of the realm they were suppose to be in. I told you they were hunted."

He crossed his arms. "And I said..."

"Good." My voice trembled. You would've thought the damned was a defective child of ours and he'd turned his back on them. "You said get out of their way; let 'em clear the air so we can play."

He stepped forward full of defense. "You act like I want some kinda world fame, venues and arenas—to be a legend. I'm not shallow, Charlie," he curled his lip. "You wouldn't even let us play in our home." He swayed his head. "You stopped playing."

"I was testing theories."

He pointed to his studio. "We've been playing loud and clear for a while now. You told me taking music from me was like taking my air, for me to play. We were cool," he said wincing with the betrayal I saw in his eyes. "Then I find out you stopped."

"I didn't leave myself wide open on purpose," I argued back.

"Slippery slope, Charlie. You prob' thought, I'll just not play today, then another came, and now its three months down the road and I could've lost you!"

He stormed to the couch and fell into it. The glare in his eye, the way he moved his shoulders, fisted his hands, across the next few seconds had nothing to do with me. Not directly, at least. He was arguing with what I could feel in this room. He must've won, the air stilled and I was positive him and me were alone.

"I'm going to say I'm sorry," I said. "I'm going to ask you to forgive me." I looked away because I felt distance on where we stood with this topic. "I'm not a judge or jury. I only have my clear conscious to count on. I won't stand by and watch something be destroyed, not when I have the power to help it find redemption."

A near growl left his chest before he spoke. "And this force, feeding on the vilest of souls. What do you have against them? How do you know it's not their nature? Natural order and all."

"I don't," I whispered. "But I'm not going to assume."

He glanced back to me.

"Souls deserve every chance they're brave enough to take. That's the natural order I abide by."

He reached his arm out for me. When my pride let me, I moved closer. At his side he pulled me into his lap and for a long while we listened to the storm and the rhythm of our hearts.

"I love you, Charlie," he breathed against my neck. "I want to see it your way." He held me tighter. "But it's hard as hell when you show no self-preservation."

I moved so I could look in his eyes as I settled in his lap. "It's hard on me when you see this as a curse. When you think you've done something to deserve to be punished and you drug us down with you."

He clenched his jaw. Draven saw the darkest part of the souls. At one time I may've been able to glimpse the same but he swore I never saw as deep as him. He promised I was too close to something wicked that was attached to his soul.

I'd called my life cursed, twisted, all bad things over the last few days. Those thoughts didn't hurt. They were what the evil I was fighting wanted me to believe. As I thought through this epiphany he watched and his expression became softer.

"Something is trying to stop you from your greatness," I said to him. "I wasn't going to let it."

His stare moved deeper, I knew he was searching to see if I'd uncovered my cold void. I hadn't. I couldn't even recall a single time I'd actually helped a spirit, much less looked them in the eye.

Wind crashed into the window, thunder erupted.

The guitar sound exploded around us. Draven glanced to the room, as he drew his brow together. "All right, Charlie. We'll face this head on. Together." He stood with me in his arms and slowly put me down. "He said get away from the window.

I knew Draven was trying to shell shock me. "That's not all he said," I accused as Draven drew me to the stairs. "He agrees with me."

Draven glanced back, squeezed my hand then let the subject drift away.

We were lying on my bed, even though the storms quelled hours ago. The tips of his fingers were gliding through my hair. We'd touched topics but never fell too deep into them. My eyes fluttered closed from exhaustion but my mind was racing, it didn't settle until he started to hum, then began to sing a lullaby that he had written for me.

A knock brought me out of guarded sleep. It was daylight now. I doubted I had slept more than an hour, though.

Draven pushed the blanket down, then rubbed his eyes. "You can come up," Draven said.

I sat up in a sleepy haze and saw Aden climbing the last few steps into my room. "It was too quiet...I didn't know if you were sleeping or not," he said as he walked to the bed and sat down next to us.

"What time is it?" I asked as I felt a yawn come out of nowhere.

"Almost seven. Did you guys sleep?" he asked, looking over Draven and me like he could smell the embers of the fight we had during the storm.

"Not long," Draven said.

The guitar sound erupted sizzling the air with an electrifying tone. I watched as a grin spread across Aden's face. "I like that," he said, rocking his head with the rhythm. He moved his hands like he was at his drum set. The creative thought carried him away as he stood. "Coming or not?" he said to Draven.

"I'll be there in a minute," Draven said, nodding for him to go.

"I want to see again," I said to him.

"You're tired, sleep first," he said as he brushed his lips across mine.

I wanted to argue with him, but all of a sudden a calm and total serenity absorbed the room then me. My eyes were heavy. My body grew numb. Draven pulled the covers around me, kissed my brow, "I'll be back around four."

I couldn't hold my eyes open any longer. I let them fall as I felt his lips touch mine.
Chapter Eleven

I don't know that I dreamed. It was more like a working dream, where the day never ended and you kept doing the same thing over and over as you slept.

I reached for the stone.

Draven didn't give me the ring I didn't realize I hadn't taken off. Not really. He threw it at me as he stormed out of my apartment. "Hide that from your boyfriend, too," he'd cursed.

He was so sure I was cheating. No music, no pictures of us, it all sent up red flags. Me telling him he had to go, refusing to let him even grab a glimpse that would prove his fears wrong all but destroyed him.

I grabbed the ring and clutched it. It was a promise. Draven never wanted to leave this world. Running from the darkness dented his pride. This ring with a crystal from a dimension soaked in purity, a place that believed in fate, and the power of a determined soul, was his way of saying he wasn't going to drag his feet anymore. If I thought this was right, then so did he.

I didn't know anymore.

I stretched and pulled myself awake. I stared at the ring for a while, then dug in my pocket pulling out more of the stones. I couldn't fathom how far they'd traveled before they reached me. It was a thought that chased me through my wake up/ shower routine. They were impossible. I had the impossible before me. Courage in a crystal...I'd heard of stranger things.

I had a towel wrapped around me and had almost finished drying my hair when Kara charged into the bathroom. Wrath saturated her expression.

"What kind of game are you playing, Charlie!" she whispered harshly.

"What are you talking about?" I asked totally offended.

"Bianca is downstairs," she said shortly.

A vacant, sick feeling slammed into me. I leaned against the counter, trying to find balance—a clear thought.

"Charlie," Kara said, moving in front of me, trying to snap me out of my scared stare. "Did you know she was coming here?"

"I didn't know she'd show up at the front door. Is Mom here?" I asked trying to remember when she was supposed to be back.

"No. She flies in at three tomorrow."

"I told her you were asleep, that I wasn't going to wake you, but she started crying and said that you and her had a horrible fight and you won't answer the phone."

I heard Madison in my head telling me to ride out the illusion I was blind. Easier said than done. Even if I was on my own turf, I was sure it wasn't what I said or did that would fool Bianca; she'd looked much deeper to make sure the damage she left was holding.

"Where's your phone?" Kara asked, blocking the door so I couldn't leave.

"In my bag. They're off."

"Obviously, ignoring her wasn't a good idea. What happened to 'I have to have my phone so I can hear music'?"

I pointed to the ceiling, calling out the sound I could hear, but she couldn't. "I don't need it for music anymore," I whispered harshly.

Kara's eyes softened as she tilted her head. I knew I'd somehow managed to convince her that I was innocent. "Tell her you're in trouble. Short and sweet, Charlie." She gripped my arm. "Are you strong enough to stand up to Bianca? Do you need my help? For me to play the role of mean sister?"

"That'll just make it worse," I said, finally getting her to move out of my way so I could get dressed.

"I'll let her come up," she said to me as I started to pull my clothes on. I went after my phones next. Any heads up I could get on what was coming my way would help.

"Now you decide to look at your phone," Bianca whispered, obviously trying to keep her voice from carrying.

I didn't answer her. I walked to the bedside table and plugged my phone into the charger. I set Britain's into the dock of my alarm clock so I could get it to play music and cover our conversation. I knew I'd have to be clever when I argued with her, and I couldn't do that if I knew Kara was listening and judging my every word. I turned the volume all the way up. The sound was just loud enough to reach the entire room. I ignored the blue box that said I had twenty-one unread messages and looked back at her and shook my head.

"You really don't have boundaries, do you?" I asked as I started to make my bed.

"Me?" she said in the most surprised tone she could manage. "You've been here for forty-eight hours, and I don't even know who you are anymore. What are they doing to you?" she asked, sitting on the part of the bed that I'd already straightened the covers out on.

"Nothing," I mumbled, refusing to look her in the eye. I started to pick up the clothes across my room and make a pile of things I needed to wash.

"Oh, yeah, I've never seen you clean your room before. That alone should be a red flag."

I cringed as I threw my clothes into a pile. "Listen, you got me in a lot of trouble by knocking on that door. She thought I'd planned it. Why would you do that?"

Bianca stood and started to follow me as I cleaned up. "Charlie, you let them kidnap you."

"No. I didn't."

"Can't blame you," she said with a sly wink. "I'd let rock star boy steal me away too."

I gripped the shirt I was holding and walked the two steps between us. My eyes raced across her face. She must have realized that she pushed the wrong button because her confidence seemed to fade before me all at once.

"You stay away from Draven—from me—this friendship is over."

Her expression was almost fearful. I felt my confidence build.

"If I had known talking you into that party would land us here—fighting like this, I would've found a different way."

"A different way to do what?" I snapped.

"Why didn't you tell me about this place? Why didn't you tell me that this was your real home that you had a past here?" she asked, refusing to answer my question.

"Because it's none of your business," I countered.

"You're my best friend—it's my business."

"I met you three months ago. I barely know you much less understand you. Do you really think I trust you enough to tell you about my past?"

"I guess mommy has gotten to you. Put that latch back on that little glass box I found you in."

"My mom stays out of this." I said through my teeth. "You freaking drugged me."

"Seriously, Charlie. That's absurd. You act like I killed you. You enjoyed every second you were with Britain."

"Get out of my face," I said, stepping back. "You did kill me. I lost memories because of that night and I'll tell you what. You better hope you're as innocent as you claim when I find them because if you aren't—you—will—pay."

Tears started to come down her face as she walked to the side of my bed and sat down.

This was an act.

I never really gave into them in the past, but I at least acted like I believed her front. It was insulting my pride to even attempt to play my part right now.

When I didn't offer to console her the tears stopped, and she just stared at me.

"Britain is furious with me...this is my fault. I need to make it better. Please let me make it better. If you don't, he's never gonna talk to me again. Then I'll have no one. Do I really deserve that?"

I took in a deep breath and walked to the edge of my bed and sat down next to her. "Why is he mad? Because your drugs weren't strong enough? That by the grace of God, my mother came home just in time?"

She pulled her knees to her chest and moved her head from side to side as she stared forward. "Because you can't be forced to hook up with someone like him. Free will, it's a bitch with guys like him."

"Do you hear yourself right now?"

She stared at me for a second, and then hopefully decided I was the chick I always let her think I was. The words free will didn't stick out to me.

With any spirit, you have to give it permission to hurt you, do anything with you. True enough, permission doesn't always have to come from words. Mostly it's about the state of your vibe. Were you closed off? Or willing to do anything to stop the fear you had? It doesn't even have to be about pain or fear. The long and short of it is that we either leave doors open or we close them.

"I don't have a problem with him." I almost told her he wasn't mine to hate or love, but I nipped my words. They had too much personal truth in them.

"Have dinner with us."

"Did you not hear me when I told you that Kara was furious that you were here?"

"Did you not hear me when I said I'm fighting with Britain," a flash or fear I didn't think was fake hit her eyes. "You could at least smooth it over with us before you ditch."

"My mom is flying in."

"When?"

"I don't know, suppose to be today. Might have gotten pushed. When she goes back to the city, maybe."

"No, no way I'm staying in his artic zone that long."

"He's here? At his new house?"

"He texted you he was."

"If I get a chance I'll swing by." I had to give her a maybe or she'd never leave.

I heard Kara's voice echo through the house. My heart started to race. I was sure Draven was here.

A second later, Madison climbed the last steps that led to my room. She was in sweats and a tank top covered by a hoodie. In her hands, she had an energy drink and a stack of movies.

"Bianca? " Madison said like she nearly forgot the name all together.

Bianca looked her up and down like she was some kind of plague. I could feel the tension build in the room, but Madison couldn't care less.

"The girls are gonna love you. A real socialite from New York. You can help us put new looks together. It's movie makeover night! Totally gonna be a blast. Everyone else should be here in a little bit. They stopped by the store to stock up on junk food because there's no way a pizza guy is gonna get over that creek if it starts to rain again," Madison said, setting the movies down on my dresser.

"Who's coming over here?" I asked, oblivious to what she was talking about. Knowing makeovers were not her style at all.

"I told you, everyone. I texted you and said if you had a problem to let me know and you didn't answer. So there you go. We're all coming," she said, crawling on the bed between Bianca and me. She started to run her fingers through Bianca's hair. "One of the girls is a master at hair coloring—do you want some highlights? Maybe a new shade altogether?"

Bianca pulled away and stood up. "No, thank you," she said shortly. "I guess it's time for me to go."

"Wait, no. You're staying. I told you, it's girls' night. Charlie would be heartbroken if she didn't have someone to sulk with," Madison said, wrapping her arm around me.

Bianca looked at me and shook her head. "Sulking huh?"

"Hangover from hell," I snapped back.

"Tomorrow," Bianca said. "It would be nice if you could at least text before then. Otherwise," she glanced around the room. "If he kicks me out, I may have no choice but to observe your makeover night."

Madison leaned back on her arms and watched Bianca leave; completely satisfied with the fact that she annoyed her to that point.

I glanced at her, and she raised her fingers to her lips, telling me not to say anything. She reached to turn down the music. "This is gonna be a blast, Charlie. I think you need highlights in your hair, too," she said louder than she needed to as she walked to the short wall to look over. A second later, I heard the front door open, then shut. Madison broke out into an absurd victory dance.

It was hard not to laugh.

"Perfect timing," I said. "But you're gonna have to cancel whatever plans you have."

She lay back on my bed and stretched out. "Like I would've volunteered for a sleepover girl thing. I know you have plans."

"You know?"

"Yeah, he called me." She said with a shrewd grin. "How was last night?"

"Did he tell you about it?"

"No, but I've heard the two of you hit repeat on the same fight enough times to know the highlights."

"Right."

"Did I make it over in time? Kara was near panic when she called me."

"Kara called you?"

"Do you seriously think I'd leave the house looking like this if it wasn't an emergency?" she asked, pulling her sweats out to show me how ridiculously big they were.

"Brilliant, thanks. I was holding my own," I said as I thought over my argument with Bianca.

I shifted my eyes to her. "How did you sketch her? Did you meet her before?"

Madison shifted uncomfortably.

"What?"

"I was there when you were told about her."

"Who told me?"

She eyed me unsure where I was with my journey back to the real me. "You sorta interviewed someone you were helping out."

"Someone?"

She stared waiting for me to grip the obvious—I had interrogated Casper.

"We both saw her when the haunt showed us. I recorded it." She pursed her lips. "Not long after you looked up when you felt the door between you and the damned. Silence scared the hell out of you. Bianca strolled down the hall with your guidance councelor. Britain showed a few days later, her friend from her old school."

Her words made the story mine. I recalled it all.

"You couldn't see them either, Charlie. They made you question every gift you thought you had. You let them make you think you poked the wrong monster."

"I did, though."

She shrugged. "Could've been the right one. If you—we—were nothing to worry about, why'd they see a need to mess with you? Why didn't the shark swim on by?"

"Was I forced to let them over the night of the party? Or was I using the party to get them on my turf?"

"Little of both, I guess." She glanced to one of the stacks of randomness in my room. "You found a few warding tricks in your books. More than anything you thought you could look them in the eye and tell them to step on and they'd have too. You were going to close yourself off." She slanted her head. "They blew your doors right off."

Yeah, they did. I struggled with my thoughts a bit; her rubbing ink from her wrist drew my attention away from the dark corners of my mind.

"What was there? Why did you wipe it away?" I asked, trying to decode the smudged ink.

"I was thinking about getting a tattoo. I wanted to see what it would look like."

"Of what?"

She continued to wipe the ink away. "I was thinking about an ankh."

"That sounds pretty cool. That's the cross with a loop at the top, right?"

"Eternal life."

"You should get it. Draw it the way you want it. We can find an artist to mimic it."

"It was—it was just a stupid idea. I think I want something more original."

I furrowed my brow. My best friend alarm was going off. Something was messing with her, bad enough that I was pretty sure the energy drink in her hand was necessary. The shadows under her eyes said she wasn't sleeping. By choice or not was the question I could not come at directly.

"You're original. One of a kind. Get it."

I nudged her with my shoulder. "Tell me."

She closed her eyes. "I keep having bad dreams."

"About?"

"A guy."

"Who?"

"I don't know," she said glancing at me. "I've never met him. I've dreamt of him before. I've dreamt of him my whole life. I think where he is—it's bad."

I reached for her hands. "You can't do the things you can do, and not realize dreams must mean something. Maybe you should leave my problems alone right now and figure this out."

She glanced away. "You saw Austin last night. Did you remember him telling us about Chara—the string—that path he showed us?"

I nodded. Mostly...

"We're leaving. One day we will. What scares me...I think I might find him when we do."

"Then that would be a fairytale, not something to fear. He shared dreams with you Madison. That's deep."

She wiped away a tear that she was too brave to let fall. "Sometimes...sometimes in my dreams, he looks right at me. Other times, he's looking at someone else...she looks like me, but I'm not her, and this...rage soars through me because. I don't want him to look at her like that." She glanced to her side at me. "How crazy is that? To be jealous of someone that may not be real—to feel like I have some kind of claim on him."

"It's not crazy. You've said it yourself—Scorpios are jealous creatures."

She sneered. "When we get through this...this thing that has happened to you. I'll worry about it."

"When we go, leave this door open. Don't leave your dreams out in the cold."

She ran her hands across her face. "Sure."

Meaning no.

We sat in silence for a minute, both lost in twisted thoughts. Madison took a deep breath and stood up. "I gotta go. Mom is all about soaking up time with me."

Before my eyes I had a quick vision, it was Madison and her mom sitting in meditation. I didn't know if that really happened of if I was just drawing off what kind of person I knew her mom to be. If she saw Madison struggling, she would push her to dig deep, find the seed of her troubles.

I bit my bottom lip as I watched her leave. Something told me that her dreams and what I was going through now, was just the beginning. Our fate was here and there was no way to avoid it anymore.
Chapter Twelve

I reached for Britain's phone. I was scared that if I didn't text him like I told Bianca I would that he'd just show up too.

There was only one text from him beyond his new address, it came a bit ago warning me that Bianca was on her way to my house.

I took a deep breath and texted: That warning came a little too late. Not good.

Sorry. Am I going to see you before your mom comes back in town.

Gonna try tomorrow.

I hit the 'Sleep' button on his phone and tossed it in the drawer of the nightstand.

I reached for my phone. The last text was from Draven. He said he was on his way. That was five minutes ago. I scrolled through the other texts. There was one from my mom, telling me about her flight and that she heard I was getting better, to keep fighting.

I heard Kara and Draven's hypnotic voice echoing through the house. My eyes moved to the stairs, expecting to see him there at any moment. Once I had myself together and he still hadn't come up, I went down.

He was on his cell phone, his shoulders were pulled back a bit and he was nodding along. I heard my mom's voice echoing through.

"Yeah, okay," he said before he hung up.

"What was that about?"

He tried to hide the anger in his expression but failed. "Nana wants to work with you on your void. They said to give you space."

"Now? I thought we were doing the seeing thing?"

His shy grin had a flare of relief in it. He knew then I didn't put my mom or anyone up to talking to him about me.

"All kinds of time," his grin became devilish. "She said if the creek is swollen for you to stay with us. More rain is coming and she doesn't trust the wood."

Kara was on the phone in the kitchen. I could tell she was talking to her husband because everything she was saying was at the speed of light, describing some creative flow she must have had today. Her husband, Robert, was the only one that seemed to understand her when she talked like that. I used to think it was because he was a writer, too, but now I'm not so sure. She asked him to hold on and then looked at us as we walked in the kitchen.

"Did you talk to Mom?" she asked.

"He did," I said ticking my head to Draven.

Kara lifted her brow. "All right, then."

"Good," she said, smiling. "Be careful. It's getting bad out there again."

I stared at her for a second, my gaze shouted thank you for having my back before.

As soon as we stepped on the steps, the guitar faded, and for a second I heard silence. Draven gripped my hand and led me past my car to his Hummer parked outside of the garage. I studied the shadows of the trees across the pavement then I heard the whispers begin. At first, I was sure they weren't in English, but then I heard: "...Charlie...Charlie Myers." They hissed in overlapping taunts.

I glared at the thin air around me. Draven opened the door for me. Once I climbed in, he spoke, "They do know you by name. The dead hear a lot in the echo around them. Don't stress it."

"When you teach me to see—when I see them—how scary is it?" I asked in a shaky voice. I was positive if my body chilled up, if I was slammed with an anxious feeling, that may or may not be my own, scared or not, I'd be useless. I'd make them even angrier.

"It's like watching home movies."

I leaned closer doubting him.

He grinned shyly and glanced away. "I'm serious." He hooked his arm around my waist and pulled me toward the driveway, right to the heart of the nothing saying my name.

"There are never as many as you think. They read you. Out of all of us...you've been able to protect your mind the best." His fingertips grazed my brow. "You hide behind a song you hear—the song that's playing inside your house right now. From behind the music, you can still see what you need to fight, but you're protected, your doors are shut tight."

I was too freaked to hear a damn word he was saying!

"Can you remember it clearly now?" he asked.

The song? I gave him a weak nod.

"All right...," he said. "Focus on it. We're about to make this soul remember who he is."

"Wait! Are you crazy? I'm not ready. I don't even know how!"

"When you listen—not hear—listen, you see. You won't be standing in this driveway. You'll be standing in the center of every single memory this soul has."

I shook my head. I was terrified.

"The dead leave themselves wide open, the living are harder, but it's all the same principle."

He leaned closer to me and stared intently into my eyes.

"Breathe," he whispered.

I tried.

"Search the memories. Find a point before they lost their way. Say one word. The name of a loved one, pet, a place, a toy something that will cause them to remember the emotion they had at that point. If you pick the right one, the ripple will clear the muddy waters. Nature takes over after that point."

Down deep, I mean really deep inside, I felt this pull, this desire to fight, to end darkness, but everywhere else I was horrified. I didn't want to do this. "What if I can't see? What if they just attack? They've been violent before."

"It's all in your mind, Charlie. Four nights ago you thought they swarmed because they were scared and we were the pin hole opening they had out of hell—to redemption."

I could feel the embers of how well that discussion went over.

"If there's too many and you can't remember how to hide behind your song, demand they go away. Mean it, in all ways. They will, for at least a bit."

"I can't."

A mix of frustration and devotion flooded his eyes. "I will never let anything hurt you. I have no idea what's in your void, but I have to know that you can defend your mind. Your soul."

Way to go mom! Thanks to her convo, Draven's self-loathing side of his personality was sure to convince him once I broke through my void I was still going to keep him in the dark.

"I'm not doing it alone again," I swore.

"We don't always get to chose when to engage or who's at our side when the enemy strikes first." He stood behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist as tight as he could and whispered, "Breathe," in my ear.

I let another breath out as I watched the shadows slither across the pavement.

"Play the song in your mind," he whispered against my neck. "Do you hear it?"

I nodded, feeling the warm sensation of his breath.

Draven squeezed his arms then in a demanding tone he said, "Show yourself."

I saw the shadows across the ground begin to move together. Within an instant, they were mimicking the image of a man. I couldn't see any of his features. He was dark and artic. Fog leaked from my lips as the dense sensation of oppression oozed down my soul. I could hear his mocking laugh and annoying hiss. It would deepen into a growl as the waves of foulness its presence brought wreaked havoc on my sanity. Fear was there for a blink of an eye then stunned shock stilled the madness of denial swarming in my mind.

When the impossible morphs into existence before you there is nothing you can do but move through it.

"Listen," Draven whispered into my ear. "Look past the darkness and listen. Who was he? How did he get here?"

"Charlie..." the image hissed at me. Only now his voice was more distance, confused as to why I wasn't trembling but seeing him, truly seeing him for what he was.

I focused on the music in my mind. My song. I took ownership of the protection and confidence I sensed. I had a shield. As soon as I sensed this, I stood up straighter and found determination, beauty in the beast of evil. I listened and stared forward. I didn't feel Draven's arms around me. I didn't see the driveway or the image. I was standing in a glow.

The purest, clearest of waters swirled around me turning into smooth walls. Through this element a life that didn't belong to me was gliding before my eyes. The emotions flowed deeply. Only the most obsessive minds could dare to unravel them with the care each deserved. The darkest points soured my soul to where I had to depend on shock to push past them. Every bad turn I watched his soul make left me anxious when I glanced back in trepidation.

These points were the downfall; they were a reaction that was given a life form when the soul believed he had no control. I searched for a moment when he believed in the impossible, when life was a gift he could not wait to unwrap. He needed a moment that made him feel the way I did when I played. When he realized he wasn't isolated from the almighty vim our universe was made of, but an intricate thread that helped weave our souls toward an evolution of awareness. Awareness that moved us beyond right and wrong, that ceased a culture of blame, and harnessed beings that searched for solutions, for the seed of individuality in their soul meant to inspire all.

This man had lived hundreds of years ago...somewhere in the east. He had been on his own most of his life. Never had a wife or a child. He couldn't clearly recall his parents. In his mind, they'd left him. He lived his life in anger, full of hate, always struggling to survive. As I searched deeper in his life, I could see an older woman rocking him to sleep as a child. I listened to what she said and repeated it slowly: 'je vous amie ma beaute douce.'

I pulled myself out of the illusion and focused on the figure in front of me. He was no longer a dark shadow, but the soul of a man. The oppression he'd used to sour me was chipping away from us both. The air was losing its bite; we shared the numbing high of falling from an electrifying high. The impossible was possible.

With wonder and awed devotion, he gazed into my eyes silently begging me to say the words again.

'je vous amie ma beaute douce,' I repeated.

He grew younger. The tithes of damnation that bound his soul unraveled. Breath by breath he didn't recall his missed opportunities with sour regret. He understood he simply knew what paths were broken, why they must be avoided. He didn't see his darkest hours as inevitable, a curse that numbed him into a shocked state, he saw the power he had to move through them. The despotic emotions that had chained him became hard limits he'd chose to hold when they fought swell inside of him again. All of these resolutions seeded into his soul. His existence had relevance once more. Inside he carried the lessons of this life as a weapon hidden in instinct.

He was a child once again. His smile was flooded with gratitude, he glanced from me to all around him, then bowed his head and turned, slowly vanishing, leaving the hard fought lessons of the life that had chained him in his past.

I stood in disbelief as I listened to the silence. Draven's arms loosened as he stepped in front of me. In his eyes I found a pride that I didn't think I deserved.

I did nothing.

My Creator had.

As the prayer of Saint Francis so eloquently notes, He'd used me as an instrument of his peace. I was humbled by the task given to me. Just as humbled as I was when I had a guitar in my hand, when I felt my existence leave the space I was in better than I found it. The immortality of my vim had left its mark. The mark wasn't tangible, something I could hold in my hands as proof.

My mark was left in the soul of another.

"What did I say?" I asked in a daze.

"'I love you, my sweet beauty'...you made him remember his grandmother."

"Do I speak French?"

With an impish grin he said, "Not well."

"It's quiet."

"For now, more will come."

"French?" I questioned, wondering if that was why, at times, I couldn't understand what the whispers were saying.

"We see images from all over, from every time period." He tilted his head. "According to Austin, we've seen souls from cultures that exist in other dimensions."

That is why I was certain there were no accidents. Austin was meant to find us. He was meant to expand the boundaries we assumed were unmovable. To lead us to people who could help us master our supernatural traits. No matter how awesome and sure we were that we had reached the top of our game, the real truth was we'd barely begun.

I glanced around feeling the addiction of using what was inside of me swell. "You could literally spend all day doing this. Every single one of them has the power to change the world. The vibration would be felt by everyone."

"There she is," he said a bit too dryly. He shrugged when he saw my hard stare. "I don't like being told I have to do something. This deal wasn't a choice. We make it work or it makes us miserable. I can't help how I see it."

This was familiar to me, our views. I knew greatness was inside of Draven. I could know this all day long. I could want everything for him. It wasn't going to matter until he saw it. Music was his hard limit. He wasn't going to look for any solution because he didn't want to find an answer that told him to set aside his instruments. If the choice was to play or save the souls of humanity, he'd choose to play. He loathed how selfish this made him feel, but was too angry at the possibility to think his way around it.

Figuring out what we were and why had taken center stage in my mindset.

I was asking the wrong questions.

I'd searched for validation and proof that we had to sacrifice our passions for a greater good. In his own way, Draven had told me there was no division between him and his music. I had no division, Aden didn't. Madison's obsession with art was just as deep. To suppress our creative desires, and all the vim it attracted, would be the same as suppressing our souls. How could we help anyone, bare the ride I'd just taken, if we were shattered inside?

I needed to understand how two seemingly different gifts intertwined.

"I'll never ask you not to play again."

He glanced away, landing his glare on the sidewalk.

"I'm not saying that because I'm jarred by where I'm at in life. I'm saying it because I believe it." I grimaced. "For almost two days I forgot that I played. I craved my phone and its music like an addict. When I did hear music—hearing wasn't enough. I was outside looking in. I never want you to feel as empty as I did."

In a heartbeat he pulled me to his chest and rocked us side to side as his lips fell on my temple. My arms slid up his back, hooking around his shoulders. We were closer in this moment than we had been in a long while. It was my fault. I spent too much time trying to prove a point, to change him. I should've listened. I should've believed it was possible I was wrong. Reality checks like this cut the deepest, but they're the ones you never forget. No matter how backed against the wall you may find yourself down the road.

The rain had caused most of my yard to flood. The small creek that ran beneath the covered bridge looked more like a raging river. Draven slowed down as he crossed it. I heard the wood creak and knew why my mom was intent on not wanting us to pass over it later tonight.

As we drove to his house I studied the shadows of the trees as they stretched out across the road. What I'd feared for days, assumed I'd feared my entire life looked exactly the same. The only thing that had changed was my perspective.

"He was an easy one, Charlie," Draven said leaning against his door as he drove. "You were the first to open your eyes, to go to that place surrounded by water and stand in the center of a life dead and gone." He glanced to me. "We were tiny, babies. Then, like now, you felt empowered by what you could do. You were sure because you were helping nothing bad could happen."

His jaw clenched. "A lot of good has come of it. It only takes one bad one to make you gun shy." His eyes met mine as he turned in his driveway. "We've seen thousands of bad ones. Not all of them want to be saved. You can't make them want it. This is an awesome power, but you can't let the high carry you away. You have to respect it. Keep your guard up. Change what you can. Believe that whoever made us the way we are, made someone else to handle what we can't reach."
Chapter Thirteen

He backed into his spot in the garage. I fumbled with my belt and managed to get it unhooked just as he opened my door. He helped me down, and took my hand as he led us in. I could smell the spaghetti before he even opened the door. Nana was slicing bread, and Aden was taking glasses to the table.

"There they are," Nana said warmly.

Aden's eyes danced all around Draven and me. "I tried that earlier. I suck at French, though."

For some odd reason, his tone made me laugh. "I don't think I'm much better," I said.

"Is he gone?" he asked, raising his brow.

I nodded, a bit distantly, not fond of how he referred to the soul I'd helped, like it was an infestation needing to be terminated.

"Then you're better than me," Aden said, grinning.

"Come," Nana said, taking the plate of bread to the table.

As I sat down next to Draven, I felt myself completely relax. It was as if what I had done moments ago was all in a day's work.

Aden and Draven started talking about the guys who played with them the other night. Studio time they wanted to try and book. Normal chatter.

Nana's gaze was locked on me as she ate. She wasn't digging in my head; she was pointing to the welcome mat, asking me to stretch my 'seeing' ability. I struggled right passed the point where the guys got up to grab another serving.

Like I flipped a switch, finally found the right chord to fall after others, my mind opened and read through her thoughts. I could easily assume I was making it up, that I hadn't seen anything at all. It was more instinct than anything telling me I'd found a familiar path.

I was watching her answer the phone the night I was at the ER, hearing my mom's frantic words, saying, "I'm not ready."

What was my mom not ready for?

I moved deeper, past the recent and into my childhood. There were so many holes. No clear answers on why the guys were separated from Madison and me. No one came out and said you get this trait from this part of your family. But they were expecting us to be different.

"We've done our part," I heard Nana say. "You've fallen too deeply into your role."

"Too soon," my mother said.

"We can't know that. For some it may feel overdue."

I became anxious as I digested this. I sensed my childhood crumbling and the dark and scary world calling me. I was nearing the end of one chapter of my life. I wasn't ready. How could I tell my mom and sister goodbye? I wasn't ready to sacrifice them to the fate that was dragging me into an unknown world.

"Do you care," Aden asked me.

I focused on him and drew the last words he said forward. "You want to play the song haunting my house?"

This almost felt sacrilegious to me. I'd used that song like a prayer to get me through all kinds of hell.

"I want to build on it," he said doubting he should've mentioned it all.

"It doesn't feel finished," I agreed.

"Are you going to play for your mom?" Nana asked moving the conversation in a terrifying direction.

This part of my memory was spot on. My mother lingered in silence. There was no memorabilia of my dad around. She knew I played; she knew what insights I had, but never approached the topic with me. She left it to Evan and Nana. She closed her mind down to where I couldn't even figure out what she had for breakfast if I strained every insight I had. If you crossed my mother's path you'd be hard pressed to imagine the oddities that touched her life.

Playing for her added to anxieties about what I'd sensed in Nana a moment ago. It felt like a final act. Me declaring to her I was ready. My foundation was rock solid. I could withstand and accept any and all oddities with confidence.

"I wish it were my idea," I said finally.

Nana got what I meant. My mom was demanding that I look inside and take inventory. She was self-assured I'd find that I was more capable than I thought I was. Anger flared inside. I knew if Bianca had left me be, if I had been more clever, this day of reckoning would be in my future on my terms.

"How do you know it wasn't?" Nana asked as her eyes smiled, pushing me to go deeper.

She wasn't pointing out I had gaps in my memory, or that my actions brought me here. Nana was far from a surface thinker. Fate is a course we must follow, easy or hard. The catch was Nana thought we were the creators of our fate. We set course with ambitions larger than our minds could fathom.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a glow of light. As I turned to see where it was coming from. It vanished before I could focus on it. Then I felt a calm come over the room. As I studied the thin air, everyone studied me. Draven's hand landed on my knee. "We'll talk about that later."

My mom, our fate, or his haunted house?

As we finished dinner I grew more nervous about talking to Nana alone. I didn't want to unlock anything. Not my void, not the missing clues across my life about why I was the way I was. I couldn't sit still. I got up from the table and started to clear away the dishes. Once Draven and Aden were finished, they came to help me.

With each second that passed, the tension between Draven and me grew. Nana stood from the table and walked to the counter we had just cleaned off. "Why don't you boys go work on the song? Let us have some time alone," she said, looking at Draven.

Draven moved his head from side to side. "I don't like this—all these secrets. How can I know she's safe if I don't know what's wrong?" he asked in an accusing tone.

Aden leaned closer to him. "No one's gonna let her get hurt."

Draven looked at me, "If you tell me to back away, I will...just like I did before."

Draven was good at this. He knew just how to sting your soul with his words. What could I say? I didn't want to do this. I sure as hell didn't want him to use any excuse to never help a soul again.

Nana put her hand on Draven's shoulder. "I promised her mother I'd talk to her. You don't need to hear this. Not yet. Go play her song. Write her another one. I'll call you if I need you."

"Come on, man," Aden said, nudging Draven.

"I'll be listening," he said quietly as his eyes fell into mine. Flashes of every time I'd seen him board a plane and leave my life came to me. I doubt there was one reason we were pulled apart for months at a time, but I knew one of them had to be because it made us stronger, trust more. We had to find a way to stand on our own. When you have no choice but to stand on your own you appreciate the bonds you have when they return. You understand you were never really alone at all.

He kissed my temple before he walked to the door.

"Come," Nana said, putting her arm around my waist.

She led me out of the kitchen through the entry hall into a living room that was off to the left. It was a cozy room with a fireplace, a couch, and two sitting chairs. I sat down on the couch, and she went to light candles on the mantel. The only other light in the dim room came from the small lamps on the end tables. I could hear the music begin upstairs as she sat down next to me.

She turned to her side and let her arm rest on the back of the couch. I felt my face flush with fear as I turned in my seat so I could see her more clearly.

She gazed into my eyes. "I'm not going to lie to you. I fear what we may find as we walk through your memories."

"Can't you see? Can't you just tell me?"

Her wise eyes told me no. "You've blocked it."

I looked down as fear absorbed me, how could it be worse than talking to shadows?

She reached for my hand. "We're just going to talk...if it's too hard, then we'll stop. Tell me the first time you figured out that your friends in New York were bad."

I took in a deep breath as my mind replayed the first time I saw Bianca. I remembered almost expecting her.

Then lost memories started to echo around me. "Instantly...I knew she was coming."

"How?" Nana asked quietly, looking all around me.

My eyes moved rapidly in every direction as I tried to answer that simple question. I cleared my mind and slowly asked myself over and over again. Slowly—almost painfully, the memories began to ignite in my mind.

I remembered that the whispers constantly swarmed like a predator was stirring them. I'd been caught by teachers, friends, even my mom talking to the shadows. I'd help one then a hundred more would appear. The problem was that the language of these shadows were so complicated, I couldn't repeat them if I tried. I felt hopeless. I could see where they went wrong, but I couldn't help them. This made them angrier.

This was the reason I began to hold on to the souls I helped. Instead of finding myself in the glowing room of water I stood in the bleak, cold, darkness they resided in now. I lived through their deaths. I saw where they went. The realm was what madness was made of. Nothing stayed the same. Like a dream the only thing you could expect was the unexpected. Some of the beings I helped were only a vibration, the building blocks that made the dream like realm. Others were lurking. They'd manifest into the setting, or play the role of the vision playing out. I moved deeper, gathering all I could to understand what level of hell I was haunting.

I saw her then.

Masses of shadows ran from her. The more stunned they were the more delighted she became. Bianca inhaled the building blocks of the realm. Natural order or not, something was out of balance. The darkest of souls were the strongest, the ones with some clarity. They were pushing into the living world. The horrid truth that they were being hunted didn't give them an awakening. They'd simply leapt from a sea of predators into a pool of souls who feared them. The tables turned.

These beings attached themselves to people and places. They were not the first to find this escape; lore and religion alike speak of this unexplained force that taunts the living.

I knew though, as well as I knew my own name, balance had to be restored. Miserable people seek reasons to be miserable. The supernatural darkness seeking portholes into my world for the sake of survival would feed on misery give reason for misery. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, I may not see it in my lifetime, but one day humanity would look back and pinpoint the moment obsession became a way of life.

Who was I to state the solution? Nobody. Just a chick that could help jacked up damned souls. Those lingering the closest to me were the most challenging. They'd found power among the living. Needing to feel like I'd accomplished something, I helped the ones further into the realm. My theory was at the very least I'd clear space. There wouldn't be a reason to swell into my world because the oldest souls had been removed.

I felt Nana squeeze my hand, pulling me from my thoughts. "You heard your name."

I winced. I did. It wasn't like the shadows over the last few days. I heard my name like it was lore. I heard all our names. When the shadows began to ask for the others, I shied away. How was I to know I wasn't being fooled? What if the dark angels I saw devouring souls were using me to find my crew.

I stopped looking deeper. I helped who was in front of me. I endured those who didn't want to be helped but found humor in their attachments to me. They'd haunt my dreams, scratch my skin, and twist my emotions. They were seeking a way in. Waiting for me to become angry or afraid enough that I'd make a deal. Let them in if they agreed to stop. I never did. When I proved to be unbroken silence came. Bianca appeared in my life, and we pretended that we were not born to destroy each other.

"When were the battle lines drawn?" Nana whispered.

"I'm not going back to that night," I said, standing.

I stood to leave; she reached for my arm before I made it very far. "Face this. Nothing is over; you're standing in the eye of the storm. It would be best to know what fared well and what failed you. Your fear is their weapon."

I let out a jagged breath.

"Look at me. Tell me what happened. What did they say?"

My eyes raced back and forth as I reached back to that night. At first, all I could see was darkness—all I could hear was an evil hiss. I searched deeper and deeper into my thoughts. The chill of the unknown hurt my bones.

The night came to life all around Nana and me. "I knew it was a set up," I said as I watched the last seconds of the fight Draven and I had.

I clutched the ring I found on the floor as I shook with fear. I bolted to my room and pulled a box from under my bed. Random things known for cleansing and warding off darkness were there. I couldn't burn something as obvious as sage, but every other thing I could hide in plane view or on my body I used.

I never let Bianca in but she emerged behind me as I was putting on my makeup. She would do odd things like this then judge my reaction. Acting like it was nothing would be a red flag, I danced between uncomfortable and insecure in my reactions around her. I wanted her to underestimate me.

"My mom's back?" I questioned.

"You left the door unlocked," she said with a sly lift of her lips. "Are you excited?" she asked sitting her makeup bag down on the counter as she began to critic her image.

"What's wrong with hanging at your house?"

"What's wrong with you hosting?"

"My mother."

"She'll never know," she said as she put her lipstick on. "This shade is perfect for you," she said turning me. I closed my eyes and plotted my path. I had all kinds of theories. Most connected back to freewill. The most oppressed souls had nothing taken from them. They surrendered everything. I was going to call a spade a spade. Depending on the reaction I'd either run like hell that night or in few days time I'd vanish into the string with my crew and find people stronger than the dark angels I'd provoked. I would've planned better, made sure Austin was here; his window of return was never precise. I would've ensured we were all ready to bail on the lives we had. I only had hours. Bianca had told me her brilliant plan to have a get together at my place when she dropped me off. I agreed because I saw a gray Hummer turning into the garage.

I needed an excuse to get her not to come up with me, getting ready to go out was a winning one. When I saw Draven it took me all of one second to understand he was shut down. He had it in his head something far from supernatural was up with me. There was no time. I had to engage, him storming out was something I counted on.

The doorbell caused me to fling my eyes open. I rushed through the apartment to answer it. Bianca was behind me, handing cash to the delivery guy. The door never closed all the way. Minutes later I heard a tap on it and peeked around the wall. The simple move jarred me. I saw three front doors. Gravity was heavy right then. I waved Britain in. I was in the kitchen splashing water on my face sure I was on the verge of panic attack when I heard others come in.

I moved toward the living room. The gaming system was on; guys I never met had beers and Chinese food before them. Britain leaned against the wall glaring at Bianca as she worked the room. I pressed my lips together, a nervous habit. It was then I tasted the color there. I swayed, as I dove for a napkin to whip it away. In the end I was on my knees before Britain.

"There," Bianca said. "Doubt me again."

Who I was this night was buried under the drug that was on my lips. Who I was now was aware of the room, and all the power plays.

"There is a boring element to your kind," Britain said, drawing me up with an unnatural strength. He reached for a bottle of water and gave it to me.

"Boring?" She countered. "I've snared her, do your part."

Britain's grin was cold. "It's charming how confident you are. My barters are none of your concern."

She sneered. "Hungry boys?" she said as she appeared behind me and then pulled at nothing. The nothing turned into a bright light. The guys on the couch became drenched in hunger, but they never made a move. Britain's stare was holding them in place.

"Not our flavor," one said as my vim came back to me twice as strong as it left.

Again Bianca struck, not to taunt them but to question why I still had a heartbeat. "Do something," she said to Britain.

"She's not mine to love or hate."

"Oh, but I can wager you're here because there's something connected to this soul you covet. Shall I obsess over what that may be?"

Her charismatic laugh was cut short when her body was jolted up then slammed into the wall by nothing. She flickered, like her body was a signal that was bad. All the guys in the room sneered before they went back to what they were doing.

"It would be a pity if something happened to you, being as you hid like a coward behind mirror image," Britain said.

"What is your purpose?" she asked when she was let go.

"You should be more concerned with more personal matters."

Desperation flooded her eyes. Britain had something of hers and she needed an ally to retrieve it. I could only assume my demise was her quick and dirty way to reach this now frantic goal of hers. She tried three more times to pull my vim from me then she spun me looking for the shield I had. She removed all my little tokens, all but the ring and song in my mind.

"Shrewd you are," she canted her head. "A lesson is to be taught here, play not with things you cannot fathom." Her voice changed as she spoke. Her next words sounded as if I had said them. "Show yourself!"

Hoards of shadows appeared, sensing the trap they were in they tried to vanish just as quickly but Bianca had sealed them in my apartment somehow. I was the only way out and they were mad with the need for survival. Like snakes they dove inside of me. I crawled away. I don't know where I was going or if I had a plan but I was in my room moments later hearing Britain and Bianca bickering, their words were fast on a different frequency than I could comprehend then or now.

Then roaring vibration could be sensed charging toward my apartment.

"No way," Bianca said as her eyes wildly searched in every direction. "They are myths."

"You fool," Britain bit out as he knelt down and moved his thumb across my forehead.

"Now you help? What good will this do?"

"That is for you and your God to debate," he said as the power charging toward us made landfall bursting through the front door. The seal around my apartment was broken, the shadows made their escape. When the cloud of them thinned I watched as my mother ran through the door, the panic in her eyes as she saw evil chaining me. She dove to the floor moving her hands across me, screaming my name.

I couldn't help it; I stepped forward in this vision wanting to protect my mom from the darkness that was seeking anything or anyone to attach itself to. This evil had no boundaries. It pulled me into the vision and I felt the pain and coldness that my memory was shielding me from. So much pain that I had no choice but to shut down. My eyes closed and I drifted.
Chapter Fourteen

Out of the silence, I heard my guitar riff. It started to grow louder and louder, its vibration became my heartbeat, the rhythm of my breaths. I used the lyrics as a ladder and crawled out of the pits of hell I'd fallen into.

I heard Draven screaming my name. I focused on his hypnotic voice. It gave me reason to climb my ladder faster.

My eyes flew open to see his panic stare. I stayed focused on his fearful green eyes and pulled myself out of the illusion I was in. Draven wrapped his arms around me and pulled me up. I'd fallen to the floor. Aden was at our side looking for an enemy to destroy. Nana was standing near us with sorrow and pride drenching her expression.

"How did this happen?" Aden demanded.

I couldn't take my eyes off Draven. I thought if I did, I'd slip away again and that terrified me. He kissed my forehead and pulled my head to his chest. Nana didn't answer Aden. She stepped forward and caught my gaze.

"Go get her a glass of water, both of you, and take your time."

"No," Draven said, holding me tighter.

"Draven, five minutes. Trust me, son."

"Five minutes," he growled.

Aden nudged him to go, and I watched them whisper to each other as they left the room.

"Never jump into a memory. You could be trapped there forever," she warned.

"It was a reflex. They were after mom. She's not conditioned for this."

"Your mother is more conditioned than you will ever understand."

I stared at her with questioning eyes. She looked away, hiding her thoughts from me.

"You've been tested. They needed to know how aware you were. If you had become a threat."

"They feared something," I said remembering the vibration that changed the tone from offence to defense.

"You assume their awareness of powers equal or greater to their own is a victory?"

Arguing that at the very least, they knew I was better left alone never had a chance under Nana's glare.

"Now they will prepare. They will exercise your known weakness."

Shame exploded inside of me.

"Charlie...this day's arrival is not your fault. The lesson you take is to use the weapons given to you." As she walked by she squeezed my arm. "Never leave them behind again."

I gave myself a second to digest what had happened. I rubbed my hands across my face as if I could wipe away the stress. I had to step away and then come back. I needed time to figure out what my instinct had right and what was wrong, and how I could use it.

I took a deep breath and went to find Draven. I could hear their voices mumbling in the kitchen. When I walked in, I saw Aden sitting on the counter and Draven leaning against it, waiting for the second he could come for me.

"You're early," Aden said. "Nana still had one minute on the clock."

I locked eyes with Draven. He walked slowly to me, looking over every part of me. I knew he was trying to see what was wrong. The frustration and anger in his eyes told me couldn't.

"What happened?"

"I stepped into a memory."

"What—why? How is that possible?"

"It was a reflex. I didn't mean to do anything stupid."

"I'm fine," I whispered, reaching up to steal a kiss.

"I'll leave you guys alone," Aden said, walking to the door.

"No, wait," I said, feeling bad that he felt like he had to leave.

He turned and smiled, displaying his adorable dimples. "It's late."

Draven put his arm around me as he led me to his sanctuary, his studio. As we walked up the steps I lied to myself. I told myself that the world outside of these walls didn't exist. I hadn't awakened a beast.

Once we reached the studio. Draven went to his guitar then pulled an amp closer to the couch. He sat on the end and held his arm out, encouraging me to come to his side. He laid the guitar across us and moved my hands so they would rest on his. He slowly began to play the chords that I always heard in my mind. I watched the way he moved his fingers, how they slid almost angelically down and up the neck.

The sound I'd heard would always change as if it had mood swings, but what Draven was playing was the heart of it, the baseline of what I could hear.

His lips rested on my temple, silently encourage me to take control. Then he moved his hands over mine.

My fingertips fell into place like they found their home. As I played the chords, I was flooded with emotion. Overwhelmed by what I'd been through. What was taken and all that hung in the balance.

"He was there...your dad helped you," Draven said as he watched me. I wasn't sure how much Draven had seen of what I'd uncovered. His calm mood told me it wasn't much past the evil I stood up to finding a reason to flinch.

"I can't do this. Not yet," I said knowing this night had already tested me.

"This is the only memory you're missing...and you need this to make you whole. I don't know why, but I know you need your dad. He can be there when I can't."

I closed my eyes looking for strength.

"I'll show you Mom first," he whispered as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "Keep your eyes closed," he said quietly.

I listened intently to everything around me.

"Feel the calm of the room, the warm sensation that says you're safe...watched over."

I cleared my thoughts and only listened to my breath.

"See it within first, let her come to life in your mind...she's beautiful, angelic. The worries of life are nowhere in her image. Her eyes smile adoringly. Her hair and body float on a wave of energy. Everything around her is a white glow."

I held an image in my mind of this beautiful woman. As he said the words, I remembered her. I remembered that she was always here, silently watching.

"Open your eyes, baby," Draven whispered.

I let them open slowly, and before us she appeared. My heart began to pound. Draven put his arm around me and leaned us forward. The image of his mother stepped closer, she didn't look at Draven. She smiled at me like I was the most precious thing she'd ever seen. Draven had described her perfectly: her skin was almost ivory, and her hair flowed in the still of the room. Her image knelt before us, and I began to tremble.

Draven moved his hand across my back to calm me. "She loves you."

"How can this be real?" I asked breathlessly.

The image of his mother rested her hands on mine. The fear I had washed away. She slowly let go of my hand then reached for Draven. She cupped her hand around his cheek and leaned her forehead to his. He smiled at her and pulled me closer. She let go of him and stood before us again. Her eyes reflected relief, encouragement. I furrowed my brow, questioning her calm as she faded. Even though her image had vanished, I could still feel her.

"She didn't leave us. She's not trapped between this place and another. She's simply free—watching over me until I don't need her to anymore."

I couldn't respond because in the room I felt someone else—the presence of my father. I felt a wave of beautiful, unconditional love absorb me. Tears welled in my eyes...how could I forget such a beautiful emotion?

Draven reached his hand to cradle my face. "He's strong, but gentle. You can see the passion for the life he had in his dark eyes. There's a pull to him...it may be the signature of his gift in music. The one that called so many to hear him, or...simply the love he has for you. It's powerful. Beautiful..."

I started to tremble uncontrollably. The only thing worse than forgetting Draven was forgetting that I was never alone. Draven let his hand fall and tilted his head, encouraging me to look. I held his stare as a lonely tear streamed down my face.

I felt a warm hum on my hand and slowly looked down. I saw a strong hand and the image of a silver wedding band. I turned my hand to hold it and tried to understand how real this was. I could feel the warm hum of life. Hushed tears began to flood from my eyes. I drew my eyes up from his hand to his waiting stare. His dark eyes glinted warmly as he smiled angelically at me.

His image gently pulled me forward and wrapped his arms around me. I reached my numb arms up to hold him. I felt life, not breaths or the sounds that a body would make—life, a beautiful life that loved me, loved me more than I could ever imagine. My tears fell, but they weren't of grief. They were of happiness. I felt so complete. I heard the sound of the guitar begin. I couldn't tell if it was Draven playing or just the haunting sound, but I didn't care either way. My father swayed me back and forth with the rhythm I heard.

As we moved I felt the old Charlie coming back to life. I'd been humbled, true. Yet the confidence I had withstood the storm. I couldn't bow to the fear of failure. I had to lift my head toward the hope of clarity.

The music began to slow. My dad's embrace softened. I sat back and stared at him, trying to read his eyes. His eyes moved to Draven. He smiled slightly and nodded at his guitar. Draven nodded respectfully at my dad. My dad reached for my hands and placed them on Draven's across the strings then he leaned forward and kissed my forehead. The warm sensation of love flowed through me, even when he faded from sight it remained. As I drifted to sleep exhausted from my day I met him in my dreams. All night we played the song I'd always known.
Chapter Fifteen

I felt someone gently squeezing my knee. I leisurely opened my eyes and began to stretch. Sunlight was spilling into the room from the wide windows. I looked to my side to find Draven and his guitar gone. Kneeling in front of me was Aden, smiling curiously. I slowly reached my hand out and let my fingertips touch one of his dimples.

"Those are adorable," I said, tilting my head and smiling a sleepy smile.

"I know," he said as he tried not laugh.

My hand rested beside me on the couch. It was still warm. I knew Draven hadn't been gone long.

"He's taking a shower," Aden said, moving to sit on the other side of me.

I stared forward and let last night rush through my memory. I smiled at first as the blissful memory of my father came to me, but then I remembered everything else I'd learned.

"You really aren't afraid of anything, are you?" Aden said, resting his arm along the back of the couch.

I glanced to him. I was afraid I had just shown him everything. That he knew what I was about to do. "Are you seeing me now?" I asked in a hoarse voice.

His eyes filled with sympathy as they danced across my face. "There's only one person that's ever been able to see you clearly and right now, he's blind to this."

"It's wicked bad Aden," I winced. "What feeds on the darkness isn't too happy we've jacked with its reserves."

"We knew this, at least assumed."

"There are two kinds of knowing."

"I may not be able to see you, but I can read Madison like a book. She's pretty positive we have a hard road ahead."

I pulled myself forward and leaned on my knees. "I don't think she's wrong."

"This shield," he said, waving his hand all around me. "It will only take you so far."

"I know. I'm gonna go freshen up. When I come back, will you show me the beat you think will go with my song? If you want to help me, help make it stronger in my mind."

He nodded.

In the bathroom I splashed water on my face to wash away the salty tears that had dried across my skin. I stretched, then leaned forward and stared at my reflection. Flashes of all the dark souls I'd saved exploded before my eyes. Each one made me stronger, they promised me I'd already proven the impossible possible.

When I opened the door Draven was walking by. His hair was still wet from his shower, and he smelled so good that I almost couldn't stand it. He grinned as he reached his arms around my waist.

"Good morning," he whispered against my lips.

"Morning," I said, stealing another kiss.

Drums erupted through the air like a powerful thunder.

"He's trying to make my song stronger, finish it," I said, grinning faintly as I watched Draven listen like the music was a magic whispering to him.

Draven chucked his chin up as he gave his attention back to me. "You wanna talk about last night?"

"Not yet," I said keeping everything sealed up. I didn't think Britain was a good guy, but I didn't think he was my enemy. The moment Draven knew what went down it would not matter what Britain was, he'd never want me near him. I'd rather not be put in a position that would test the turbulence we were sailing through. I had to decide how I was going to approach Britain before I showed my cards to Draven.

Anger flashed in his eyes, his hands held me a little tighter, but then I was sure he convinced himself to give me at least the day before he came at me again. His hand captured mine then pulled me toward the studio.

Aden didn't stop his beat as we walked in; he just grinned at us. Draven walked over and picked up his guitar, then brought it to me and slid the strap over my shoulder. I felt the weight of it and the power it seemed to give me. I walked over to the couch and sat down, slowly adjusting my fingers around the strings. Then I began to play, and I played perfectly.

A grin spread across my face as I felt the music flow from my fingertips. Draven's eyes studied me carefully as he nodded along with the music. We played it over and over again until I couldn't stand the strain in my fingers anymore.

Aden slowed his beat then ended with a bang. "I knew I had it," he said, twirling his sticks.

"Good job," I agreed.

"You're brilliant," he said, pointing his sticks at me.

"That, she is," Draven said, staring at me and trying to mask his frustration with me.

I looked back and forth between them, feeling a confidence rise inside of me. "I think I need to go. My mom will be home in a few hours. I want a shower and stuff."

"Yeah, I'm your ride," Draven said reaching for my guitar.

We were almost home before I said, "You're going to be around tonight, right?"

"Don't you wanna spend time with your mom. To play for her?"

"Is that a serious question?"

"You're not using me to get out of it," he sounded serious as hell but I heard the tease between his words. "Do it while you have the chance."

The tension of leaving with Austin or not, what it would mean hung in the air.

From the road, I could see that the water in the creek had risen to the base of the bridge. Draven rolled his window down so he could judge how safe it was. The wood squeaked in protest as we drove over.

Draven turned down the radio as he circled behind my house. I could feel the tension between us begin to rise again. I didn't give him a chance to ask me again to tell him what was wrong. Once he put the Hummer in park, I leaned across the seat and kissed his lips. He pulled me close and held me so tight, it almost hurt. I didn't think he was going to let me go, but he did after a minute or so.

"I'll see you in a little bit," I said, stealing one more kiss before I grabbed my bag and opened the door to leave.

He watched me go, daring to say something, but he didn't.

I was surprised not to find Kara in the kitchen when I came in. I called her name as I walked through the house, rocking my head to the sound of the guitar.

"Coming," she said as I started to climb the stairs.

I walked back down as I saw her come out of her room.

"Hey," Kara said as her eyes looked up and down me. "Are you all right? Nana sounded a little uneasy when she called last night."

"Yeah, we worked through it together."

"Did you?" she said in a doubtful tone as she walked over to the step I was on and took a seat.

"What did Nana say?" I asked as I sat down next to her.

"She said she helped you remember the party, that it was hard, and you were scared."

"Yeah, that was the highlight of it all."

"With what happened that night?" she asked quietly.

"I'm gonna take a shower, then go to Brits and figure out what my next play needs to be."

"What? Wait! Go where?" she asked, baffled.

"He bought a house here."

"You're not going over there. No way. I'm hours away from showing Mom that you're not only safe and sound, but healthier than before."

"Face-to-face is the only way to do this," I said, confident in my words.

"I'm going with you."

"No," I said, standing with her. "I'm going to take Madison," I said, pulling out my phone to send her a text. I had two unread ones. I cleared them and texted: "Can I get you to go with me somewhere??"

"I don't like this. This is bad. I can feel it. Why don't we try a restraining order? That'll work," Kara said as her face flushed with fear.

"Seriously? A restraining order on a demon? And I thought I was crazy," I said, shaking my head at her absurdity.

"You're crazy! You're the one playing with demons," Kara said.

"I'm not playing with anyone. Free will, Kara. They have to obey that. My doors are locked shut."

"Maybe you don't remember that party," Kara said, looking over me.

"I do. I remember every cold, agonizing second of it." I tapped my temple. "I have a shield." I said, looking down to read the text that just came in.

When – where?

An hour – you don't want to know, I texted back.

"She's coming. No worries."

"You better not drink or eat anything. I mean, don't put your fingers in your eyes or mouth. This is bad."

"It'll be over before you know it, then we'll have dinner with mom. I'll play for her, and everything will balance for the first time ever."

She eyed me knowing I didn't believe a damn word I just said. I took off before doubt could crash through the state of shock that was empowering me.

I plugged my phone in, knowing it was almost dead. It was already one in the afternoon. I only had two hours before my mom's plane landed.

I took the fastest shower of my life then towel-dried my hair, before racing through the rest of my routine.

Madison texted um I'm downstairs getting lectured. Let's go. Like now.

I raced down the stairs, listening to the rhythm of the guitar—committing every chord to memory. I could see Madison sitting at the table with her legs and arms crossed, looking totally bored. Kara was pacing in front of her, mumbling.

"There she is," Madison said, exaggerating a sigh.

Kara turned to look at me. "I want that address. I want to know where to send the SWAT team if you aren't in and out in ten minutes."

"Fifteen," I said slyly, trying to show her I wasn't scared.

"I'm serious, Charlie," Kara said sternly.

I pulled my phone out of my bag and showed her the text. She took the phone and forwarded it to herself.

Madison stood. "All right, let's go break some hearts," she said boldly.

"Madison," Kara said.

"I know, I know. No food. No drink. Hands out of mouth and eyes," Madison said, looping her arm through mine.

I kissed Kara on the cheek. "See you in a bit. No worries," I said as Madison pulled me to the door.

Once I stepped out on the back steps I studied the shadows carefully as Madison made her way to my car. Once she reached the passenger's side, she glanced at me. "I already helped everyone here. There were like a hundred."

I raised my brow, doubting her count. I knew my memory was weak, but I could never remember a time when one of us could help so many in such a short amount of time.

"OK, maybe like eighty, but it was still a lot," she said, as she opened the door and climbed in.

When I climbed in, I looked across at her. "Eighty? Seriously?"

"Seriously. I've gotten really good at it over the last few days. It's never been this loud."

Yep. I'd brought the curse of me here. What she was dealing with was what had knocked me off balance for months.

"It's quiet where we're going," I said as I put my key in and fastened my belt.

I stopped at the edge of my driveway and typed in the address on the GPS. It said it was forty-five minutes away. I made a face, frustrated it was so far away, but I did like the fact that I had distance.

I plugged in my phone and turned the music to Draven's track. As he began to sing, I felt any anxieties about doing this wash away.

I glanced at Madison as I drove. "So, any more dreams?"

"No. Just forget it, K. What is your plan anyway? I'm not saying I can't deal but I would like to point out the twins are not in the backseat."

I drew my shoulders back. "I just gotta see the battle lines up close."

"And if we both land in the ER?"

"I think they're shaken up."

"Are you delusional?"

"Something protected me that night. They didn't even think it was possible it was real."

"Your dad, Charlie. He protected you."

My soul seized as my clarity fogged up. "My dad is a ghost. They know ghosts exist. This was something else."

"Let me know when you believe that."

I swayed my head willing the deep thoughts away. I was in react mode. Had to stay there.

"Let me do this my way." I argued.

The closer we got to Britain's, the harder it got for me to breath. I felt pressure on my chest, and my stomach was tying in knots. My anxiety didn't go unnoticed. I could feel the concerned gaze of Madison and her struggling to find the words to say to give me courage.
Chapter Sixteen

The GPS had us turn into a driveway that was almost twenty feet wide. A large iron gate was connected to a brick wall that was at least ten feet high. The gate opened as soon as my car pulled in front of it. In the distance, I could see a massive dark brick, almost black house. It was three times the size of my house, and it had wide white pillars across the front porch.

"Creepy. Luxurious, but still creepy," Madison said as she unfastened her seat belt.

We circled in front of the house. Britain's Aston Martin was parked in the front, along with three other cars that I was sure were more expensive than my house.

Madison got out first and looked up at the house like it was a mountain she had to climb. I took a deep breath and called back the memory of my song to my mind. I felt the shield I always had come to life as I opened my door.

Madison ran up the steps and rang the bell. The sound it made was eerie, so loud I felt it echo through me. I walked slowly up behind her just as the door opened. Bianca was standing there.

Her eyes coldly met Madison's then glanced at me. "Seriously, Charlie."

"Alibi," I said, staring blankly at Bianca. "You know what those are—right?"

"What's with the attitude?" she asked, furrowing her brow at me.

I pushed passed her into the large open entry hall. Nothing less than extravagance was in front of me. White marble floors, huge oil paintings, and a red velvet staircase that circled to the floors above. In the distance, I could hear a loud TV—gaming.

Madison was at my side as Bianca circled around us. "What are you?" I asked flatly. I remembered her and Britain acting as if they were the same but different divisions. I needed to understand the difference.

"What kind of question is that?" she said, smiling adoringly.

I stepped closer to her and smirked. "I don't even wanna know. You're not worth my time."

Bianca reached for my shoulder. Madison blocked her. "Keep your hands to yourself," Madison bit out.

Bianca leered, no longer trying to hold her innocent approach. "Curious you are. I wonder how you mingle in this confluence."

"Like a boss," Madison said, bowing her chest out as she glared at her.

I glared at Bianca. "Get the hell out of my life. You hear me?" I said calmly as I walked passed her toward the sound of the gaming that I was sure was coming from the room in front of me.

The hall opened up into a huge room. The back wall was made of windows. To the left there was a massive TV. Two guys from my party were lounging on leather couches, playing some kind of game. Britain was sitting on the arm, watching with little interest.

I'd forgotten how attractive he was. His dark blond hair was brushed perfectly out of his eyes. He was wearing black slacks and an oxford button up shirt. He didn't look like a teenager. He looked like a powerful man. Someone who has no fears.

The moment I stepped in the room, his attention soared passed me to Madison.

At that moment, I felt someone pull me back and turned in time to feel Bianca's vim slam me against the wall. "Time to go back to sleep sweetheart," she said as she smiled wickedly. "I may not have leave to destroy you, but I sure as hell do not have to endure you."

I felt her vim ripped away from the hold she had on me. Madison had pulled Bianca to the floor. I don't know if it was out of bravery or stupidity. But I was positive I was about to watch the end of her life. Guilt stilled my beating heart.

Bianca was lifted by a force, twisted then lay limply in the air. Britain stood then. "Return her. Tell Xavier this one effectively breeched our barter."

Before my eyes two of the guys who were gaming before reached for Bianca and vanished.

Britain and Madison were locked so deeply into a stare that I felt like I was invading an intimate moment. I needed out of there and with more answers than I was holding then.

"I need to talk to you," I said, breaking the tense silence.

"Excuse us," he said quietly, smiling slightly at Madison. "Let them know if you need anything," he said speaking of the others acting like normal guys lounging.

Britain led me to another room. I tried to focus on the song playing in my mind—my father's song.

"Minutes," Madison said. "We gotta go."

Britain hesitated as he heard her voice; he glanced her way sending a seductive wink as he did. Then placed his hand on the small of my back and led me into a doorway to the left. It led into a study that was covered wall-to-wall in books. An arched window framed a beautiful flower garden outside.

He closed the door. I took two steps in then turned, wanting a fast exit.

Even though he had protected Madison and ordered Bianca away, I didn't trust him. He was supernatural and dangerous as hell.

"I remember, Britain," I said, finding strength in my voice. "I'm not yours to hate."

He smirked as he pushed his hands into his pockets like we were standing at tea party being cordial and all.

"Name my enemy."

He lifted his chin. "The entire universe."

"Cute," I spat. "I don't think I believe you."

"You're not ready for this war, Charlie."

"Your pep talk skills suck. What's it to you."

He studied me before he spoke. "Are you ready to let them all go? Did you like going it alone?"

"Nothing is taking them from me."

"As I said, you're not ready." He stepped closer. "Your Draven, have you let him see what you know? Does he agree to hunt those who feed?"

"Why does that matter?"

He winked. "You may have some time to recover, I doubt much. Consider me an ally for now."

"You're insane. I don't need friends like you."

Madison knocked on the door. "Mom alert—let's go," she yelled through the door.

Britain ignored her and stepped forward. I stepped back, but he causally followed me. "Charlie trust me when I tell you that I am an ally you need to have. I'm not hurting you. You're not hurting me. Friends."

"Why do you want me around? Who are you really trying to get close to?"

"No one that doesn't already belong to me." He stepped closer. "If we're friends, then I'm in your life, and you're safe. Everyone is safe...at least for now. I can stop all the little Bianca's from hurting you."

I couldn't find the words to stand up to him. I knew I'd need help. I needed Draven. All of us.

I rushed to the door.

"Call me when mom goes to sleep. I'll let you know how close the enemy is."

I didn't say anything. I just pulled my hood up and fumbled with the knob on the door. I found Madison eagerly waiting on the other side. She looped her arm through mine.

"Seriously. Kara just texted me. You have to meet your mom for an early dinner," she said, pulling me through the house.

I could focus on that 911, a teenage problem. It was easier than the unknown I felt looming.

I reached for my keys before we made it out the door. We ran to my car. Madison climbed in just as I did. I didn't bother putting my belt on as I threw the car into drive and circled the driveway. Madison started to dig through my bag then plugged my phone in, turning Draven's song all the way up. As soon as I heard his voice, I felt a calm come over me and I took in a deep breath.

"Put your belt on," Madison yelled, rolling down her window.

I rolled my window down, trying to get air. To stop my heart from racing as I hit 'Home' on the GPS.

"I don't think he's ever gonna let it be over. I have to talk to Draven."

"Like now?" she said, reaching for my phone.

I took my phone from her. "This isn't a conversation you have over the phone. I'll tell him after dinner with my mom."

At that moment, my phone vibrated and I felt my insides fall. Madison took my phone from me and looked down and read: You better be on your way back Mom is too tired to wait for us to cook she wants to go out. Draven is driving us so we only have one car—hurry.

Draven would be at my house before I would and I'd have to find a way to explain where I'd been. I didn't want to lie, but I wasn't ready to tell the truth. I had to focus on getting through dinner with my mom.

Madison changed the song on the phone just as it vibrated.

"You may have a guardian angel watching over you," she said, scrolling through my texts.

"Really?" I said, smiling as my father's image flashed before my eyes.

"Yep, this one is from Draven, saying he was across town playing with the guys he played with the other night, and this one is from your mom, saying that she's having to wait for them to clean the car she's renting."

I took in a deep breath and relaxed into my seat, thinking I might be able to pull this off, or at least come close.

"Take the next left," she said, setting the phone on my dash.

"It says to go straight," I argued.

"I grew up here. I know these roads better than a computer. Do you wanna take a short cut or not?"

"You better be right," I said, putting my blinker on.

"I'm always right," she said, turning up the radio.

I fidgeted in my seat, taking every turn Madison told me to, driving faster than I should. All at once, above the radio I heard a violent hiss. My heart started to race as I glanced to Madison. She was whispering random words as fast as she could, but it just seemed to make it worse. It was so loud that I thought my eardrums would burst. Then out of nowhere, a dark shadow grew from the road we were driving on. I slammed on my brakes not knowing what was on the other side of it.

"You're going to have to help me," Madison said as she let her seat belt loose. "Do you remember how? Tell me you do!" she screamed over the hiss that was all around us.

"I do," I said, letting my belt go and stepping out of the car.

I met her in front of the car. The hiss turned into laughter. "...Charlie...come," the dark cloud mocked.

"Show yourself!" I yelled.

At that moment, the dark cloud divided, and before us were hundreds of ashy ghostly images. My heart started to race, and I felt adrenaline rush through every part of me.

Madison stepped forward and into the mass of shadows, saying random words. "Summer...Buttercups...lavender." Each time she said a word, one of the images would vanish.

It took everything I had, but I remembered my song and felt my shield come to life inside my mind. I faced the image closest to me. It was a woman. Her eyes were cold. As I stared into her soul I watched her life come to life around me. Everyone had hurt her in her life, man and woman. I knew I'd have to dig deep to find a memory. I was so distracted by the fact that there were others that I grabbed the first memory I could find. It was a priest, and he simply said, "You are loved...you're a beautiful soul." I repeated his words, and at that moment she faded. Others closed in around me, whispering my name, begging me to come with them. I just stared forward and let the memories of lives that didn't belong to me come to life. I didn't even know which image they belonged to. I started to say words: names, cities, songs, smells, seasons of the year. At first, I thought I was doing it all wrong, too fast, because I couldn't see them fade. When I thought I did, more would emerge, but then the hiss grew calm, and the whispers became innocent.

Their taunts ended, and their pleas began. I felt them fight for my attention, for my words that would bring an emotion to life, one that would help save their soul. I wanted to help them all, but I had to go. I had my own life to live.

I stepped back. "If you want my help clear my path. Let me find my light, and I'll bring yours to you."

As I said the words, the dark images melted into ordinary shadows and it was silent. I could see Madison a few feet in front of me. Shock and confusion was all over her face as she walked back to the car.

Stunned and numb, I stepped slowly back to the driver's side and slid in. Madison climbed in, and we sat in silence as we stared forward at the ordinary world before us now.

"I can't believe they listened to you," she finally said, daring to look at me.

"They could just be playing games. I don't trust any of it," I said as I reached to turn down the still-playing radio.

"Charlie, you just told them to clear a path, and they did. You made a promise to them. If I were you, I'd keep it."

"I will, as soon as I figure out how," I said, putting the car into drive. I was so numb from the adrenaline, I felt dizzy.

"Maybe they're our weapon. Not the enemy," Madison said, turning in her seat to look at me.

"That doesn't make me feel any better, the bigger the weapon, the bigger the enemy."

"It's gonna take the four of us to do this. You see that now, don't you?" Madison asked me in a pleading voice.

"More than the four of us, much more. I don't know what to think. I just know this is the beginning, not the end."

"Evan is flying people over here...."

"What?"

Madison pointed for me to turn. Once I did, I hit the gas, knowing I'd lost time helping those shadows.

"You gave him names. He found them."

I swayed my head telling her I didn't recall that.

Her directions managed to cut twenty minutes off our time. I slowed down as I crossed the bridge in my driveway, then sped up again as I circled the house.

Madison threw her hands up in the air. "Score! No Hummer."

I sighed and pulled into my spot in the garage. I put the car into park and leaned back in my seat, telling myself to just breathe. I felt Madison's hand on my arm, and I opened my eyes.

"Tell him, have dinner with your mom, smile and be happy, and tonight tell him. I was digging the vibe in that place or what we saw."

"K," I said as my eyes danced over her face. "What was with that look you and Britain had?"

She shrugged and left before I could push for more intel.

I glanced in my rearview mirror to see Draven's Hummer pulling in behind me. I pulled my phone loose and pushed it in my bag as I got out. Draven was walking to me, looking over his shoulder at Madison peeling away.

"What have you guys been up to?" Draven asked, turning to look carefully over me.

"She's gotten really fast at saving people."

He stepped forward, letting his hands settle on my waist, and pulled me to him. "We all have," he whispered.

I didn't wait for him to lean in to kiss me. I reached my arms around his neck and pulled him to me. The moment his lips touched mine, I felt the stress wash away.

Draven pulled slowly away and looked down. "What's wrong?" he pleaded.

I reached up, stealing another kiss. "Get me through this dinner, and I'll tell you everything."

He started to say something, but Kara opened the back door, stopping him.

"Finally. Are you trying to give me a stroke?" she said, looking at me.

I locked eyes with her and begged her just to stop and not say a thing about where I was. Draven looked back and forth between us.

Kara put on a fake smile. "Shall we?" she said, walking to Draven's Hummer.

I didn't look at him. I just put my arm around him and let him lead me to the passenger side of his truck. When he closed the door, Kara slid in the center of the backseat. "Well?"

"Not now."

"Not good, Charlie," she said.

Draven climbed in. As his eyes met Kara's in the mirror, I could see him looking all around her, hesitating as he backed out. I bit my lip, fearing he'd see right through her somehow and read her concern for me before I had a chance to explain. He didn't say anything as he pulled forward.

"I hope you're good with eating early," Kara said, putting her hand on his shoulder.

"Starving. I haven't eaten today."

"Me either," I said quietly.

"All right, no one tell Mom that. Wait, I'm innocent. She was in your care for breakfast and lunch," Kara teased.

Draven's jaw tightened and reached for my hand. "Starting to regret letting her out of my sight..."

He brought my hand to his lips and kissed my skin.

Kara relaxed into her seat, and I reached to turn up the radio.

"This is what I did today," Draven said, nodding in the direction of the sound.

I started to rock back and forth with the sound, recognizing some of the lyrics: 'hold fast to the dream you think you never had.'

Mom texted Kara before we pulled into the restaurant, saying she already had a table and appetizers ordered. Kara climbed out as soon as Draven parked. I fumbled with my seat belt, feeling nervous. Draven reached over and unlatched it for me.

"Calm down," he said quietly.

I tried to smile and avoided his eyes as I climbed out. He met me in front of the Hummer and took my hand. I focused on the hum I felt from his skin and followed Kara in.

Mom was sitting at a side table, dressed in one of her powerhouse business suits. As soon as she saw us, she tucked her phone in her purse and stood up and hugged Kara, kissing her on the cheek. I let go of Draven's hand, knowing I'd be next.

"Wow, this feels good, like it should," she said, smiling at Draven and me.

"Mrs. Myers," Draven said, reaching to hug her.

"Stop it," she said, reaching up to hug him. "'Nichole,' you know that."

He hugged her back, smiling at me over her shoulder.

Mom let go of him and reached for me. "I missed you," she whispered in my ear.

"You, too," I said, squeezing her.

She extended her arms and looked over me. I swear I could see concern there. I looked away and took a seat at the table.

"So where's Nana and Aden?" Mom asked Draven as they sat down next to me.

"Aden was on his way to pick her up from playing cards all day," Draven answered.

"They should have come," Mom said, laying her napkin across her lap.

"I promised them I'd bring them dessert home. I'm sure Nana is tired. I think she puts too much effort into those games sometimes," Draven said lightheartedly.

"Sounds like her," my mother said tenderly.

The waitress took our order, and we listened to Mom tell us all about her flights and how insane it was to try and get from one place to another without having to dodge the weather. How proud she was of her team in Boston, that she felt comfortable letting them handle things there so she could come home. I nodded along with the conversation and smiled when the time seemed right, but my thoughts were wandering.

Mom glanced across the table at Draven and me as they brought our dinner to us. "So what have you two been doing the last few days?"

"Finding our way back," Draven answered politely.

My mother's eyes looked carefully over me as she reached for her silverware. I looked down and began to push my food from side to side. I was too nervous to eat. I wanted to talk to Draven alone, to deal with that, then maybe—maybe then I could find a way to connect with my mom.

"I can tell we're almost there."

Draven smiled slightly and glanced to his side at me.

"I understand that we now remember how to play music?" my mother said as her eyes searched over me.

I looked up to question her words. I assumed Nana and Kara had kept her informed on my progress.

"Have we learned a song?" my mother asked.

I couldn't look in her eyes. I looked down and nodded.

"A really good one, well written," Draven said, reaching his arm around the back of my chair.

"I can't wait to hear it," my mom said.

It took all I had, but I looked into her blue eyes. "Really?" I asked nervously.

"Of course," she said, reaching to touch my hand. She turned my palm up and looked down at my fingertips. "You've been playing," she said, running her smooth skin over the callouses that were starting to form over them.

I nodded and looked down at my hand, remembering how empowering it felt when I played music. In the back of my mind, I was wondering if there was a way to just play a perfect song for the shadows—if there was a way I could help them all at once.

We finished dinner in silence. I could see Draven, Kara, and Mom glancing at one another, then me. I was sure they were having some kind of silent conversation.

When the waitress came back, Draven ordered dessert to go for Nana and Aden. I was starting to think I could just go with him to take it to them, that Kara could ride with Mom. I wanted to talk to him about Britain—Bianca...to get it off of my chest. I thought I'd done my part. I had dinner with my mom, now I had other issues to deal with.

"Did your dad say when he'd be back?" Mom asked Draven.

"He didn't, last time I talked to him he was trying to get in touch with some old friends," Draven answered.

I glanced to my side at him, remembering that Madison had said that there were more of us. I was curious to know how many, to see if they had a faster way of making the whispers silent.

"If there's one thing I've learned in this life it's that friends are always there when you need them. I'm sure he'll find them," my mom said as she smiled at Draven.

"If he doesn't, we'll be fine. We've made it this far," Draven said, looking to his side at me.

When the waitress came back, Draven tried to pay, but my mom managed to beat him to it.

"So, um," he said, looking down at me. "I guess I'm gonna take these to them," he said, nodding to the dessert.

"I'll go with you," I said, scooting my chair back.

"I tell you what," he said, catching my gaze. "I'll take these. You can help your mom get settled, show her what you learned, then I'll come back over in a while, if you want."

"That sounds nice," my mom said, agreeing with him.

I started to argue, but he leaned forward and kissed my forehead, then stood, taking his bags with him. I closed my eyes as he walked away, wanting to chase after him.

"I can't tell you how relieved I am to see you with him," my mother said.

I blushed before opening my eyes. "Thanks," I said quietly.

Kara raised her hands as if to look accomplished. "Did you hear that? No sarcasm at all. I'm a good role model."

Mom laughed and shook her head as she stood and grabbed her purse. I slid back in my chair and stood to follow them out. On the way home, Kara talked out the story line of her book with Mom. I stared out the window, letting my mind trace over the conversation I had with Britain. I couldn't believe I was stupid enough to try and face this on my own. I hated myself for it.

When we got home, I helped Mom carry her bags to her room. The guitar sound seemed to be louder now than ever before, making it hard to ignore. I watched my mom closely to see if she showed any sign of hearing it, but she simply started to unpack quietly.

"I'm gonna go up to my room. I guess I'll see you when you're settled," I said quietly.

"I'm just going change into something comfortable. I'll be there in a minute," she said as I walked out of the room.

I unzipped Draven's hoodie as I climbed the stairs to my room. I walked to the edge of my bed and sat down, pulling my bag to my lap. I reached in for my phones, wanting to charge them. I pulled out Britain's first. There was one message: we need to talk. I cringed as I read the text and let the phone fall to the floor, feeling frustrated and afraid. I didn't want to talk anymore. I knew he'd just confuse me.

The guitar sound began to scream at me. I knew it was saying to run, to end this, but I didn't know how. I felt my bag vibrate and reached in for my phone. Draven had sent a text: play for the both of them. I'll be there before you know it.

I stood there reading his text over and over again, trying to find courage as I climbed the stairs to my father's studio.

The sun was setting, and a purple haze coated the room. I thought I felt my dad, so I glanced up, scanning every inch of the thin air, not finding any sign of him. I walked slowly to the couch, slid my phone in my bag, then took it off and let it fall to the floor. I turned and walked to the guitar stand and let my fingers dance across each one. The echo of the guitar around me grew almost silent, as if it were waiting for me to play with it.

I let my shoulders fall; finally losing all the nerve I had to play for my mom. "I think if I play for her...not ready for goodbye."

"I'm a part of you Charlie," I heard my mother say tenderly. "No forever goodbyes. I promise."

I froze, unable to say a word. I glanced over my shoulder to see her standing at the doorway in holey jeans and a tank top. I furrowed my brow, knowing I'd never seen her dressed so comfortable. She shrugged her shoulders. " I found them in my closet," she said, looking down at her jeans.

I turned and looked out the window toward Draven's house. This would be so much easier if he were here. I was angry with myself. I'd waited so long to finally connect with my mom, to feel some kind of bond, and the moment I got what I wanted, I was too distracted to make it a good memory. I was sure I'd mess this up, and in the end, we'd be worse than we were before.

She walked slowly to the couch and took a seat on the far end, then nodded her head toward the rack. "I'm ready to listen," she said, smiling affectionately.

"Really?" I asked, trying to judge her mood, to see if she was just trying to be strong.

She nodded and tilted her head toward the stand. I looked around the room once more, thinking if I saw my dad again, I'd be stronger. I still felt him, but he wasn't showing himself. It almost felt like he was letting us have our moment. I took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, then reached for the black and grey electric guitar. I led the cord to the amp around to the side of the couch and climbed up on the arm, facing my mother. I plugged the amp in and adjusted the guitar across my lap.

I glanced at my mother to see her slowly moving her head from side to side with a slight smile.

"What?" I asked, thinking I was doing something all wrong.

"Irony...beautiful irony," she said, nodding for me to play.

I had no idea what she meant by that. I looked down at the guitar, and adjusted my fingers around the neck and closed my eyes. I forgot she was there. I forgot everything that was bothering me at that moment, and I played. I played so perfectly, for a moment I thought it wasn't me, that the sound of my father's guitar had just risen again. As the music played, I felt absorbed by it, completely safe. It was like this song simply had the power to make me forget everything, yet hold on to my convictions. Once I was finished, I kept my eyes closed for a second. I heard the sound of my father's guitar erupt, as if to applaud my performance. A blushing grin spread across my face, and I slowly opened my eyes.

My mother was staring at me. She wasn't sad like I thought she'd be, she seemed content. I watched as her eyes searched over me, and the concern I knew she had surfaced in her expression. I stood and gently removed the cord to the amp before placing the guitar back on the stand. I kept my back to her as I studied my fingertips. The cuts there made me feel strong.

"Charlie," my mother said quietly.

I looked over my shoulder at her, and she extended her arm for me to come sit by her side. I kept my head down and went to her. She let one arm fall around me and reached her other to hold my hand.

"That was beautiful."

I didn't say anything. I just leaned into her. Slowly, her soft fingers circled on my hand.

"Does it make you feel safe when you hear it?" she asked, looking down at me.

I looked up at her and let my eyes tell her yes.

"It's the reason it exists." Her fingers swayed down my arm. "He's perfected it the best he could, gave you the foundation. You need to finish the ladder, Charlie."

I looked up at her, wanting her to explain.

No words.

"Was dad the vibration that saved me," I asked.

Her smile was pained. "We did the best we could for you Charlie. It hasn't been easy. You'll find disdain for our choices long before you find comfort with them."

"They feared him."

"They feared reality."

"What reality?"

"That darkness can not exist without the light. Nature restores balance when we least expect it."

"I'm not afraid of being an instrument of peace," I said. "But I am afraid of the sacrifice I'll be asked to give."

Her smile was tender. "You will never be asked to surrender the threads of your soul."

"Draven doesn't know what I went up against alone, he's gonna be furious."

"Not at you," she said under her breath.

"I don't know what to do."

She smiled faintly. "Hold your ground. Turn your enemies into your weapon, at least that's what I would do."

I heard a knock and looked up to see Kara in the doorway.

"Am I interrupting? It's been quiet for a while," she asked, carefully gauging our mood.

My mother smiled. "We were just catching up."

A relief seemed to sweep over Kara. "Well, I was going to go to the store and get some popcorn and a movie. Do you guys need anything?" she asked, walking to the couch.

"I do. I'll just ride with you," mom said, hugging me before standing. "Coming?" she said, reaching her hand for mine.

I shook my head. "I need to talk to Draven."

"You don't have to say a word, just let him see you again," my mother said, looking down at me.

She leaned down and kissed my forehead before they left. I relaxed into the couch and took in a deep breath as I tried to figure out how messed up all of this would seem once the shock wore off.

I knew running away wouldn't stop what was hunting us. That if we ran away with Austin, we'd not only leave our family in heartache, but we'd also bring the devil to the doorstep of countless unsuspecting souls...I couldn't let that happen.
Chapter Seventeen

Gathering my gumption I stood to walk back to my room. Now that it was dark, the only light that showed my way came from over the short wall. I reached for the light to turn it on, but I hesitated. I was tired of being afraid of the dark.

I heard the door close downstairs then I heard my phone vibrating. I glanced at the stairs behind me, knowing my phone was still in my bag. The one that was ringing was Britain's. A sick feeling absorbed me. I walked to my bed and felt around on the floor, trying to find it. I could see the light from the screen under my bed.

I stood with it in my hands. My body was trembling so much that I had to struggle to slide the bar to answer. The sound of the guitar grew louder. The tune was powerful, almost as if it were scolding me.

"I'm gonna tell him," I said quietly to the guitar. I just wanted to try once more.

I heard Britain's voice. "Tell me what?"

I looked down at the phone then slowly raised it to my ear.

"I don't need you to feel safe," I said bleakly.

"At this moment, you do," he affirmed.

"It's over," I said with a jagged breath, squeezing my eyes closed. "No more."

"Charlie, wait, you don't—" I didn't let him let him finish. I hit 'End' on the call. I didn't want any warnings from him, any words that would confuse me further.

"This is what you've been hiding," I heard Draven say shortly.

I turned to see him standing at the top of the stairs with an angry scowl on his face. As I stepped closer, he held his hand out, stopping me.

I hesitated then said, "It's over. I was gonna tell you, right now," in a trembling voice.

"Tell me what?" he said through a locked jaw. "That you've been playing me for a fool?"

"No," I said in an angry tone, not understanding why he was being so cold. "I was protecting you from them."

"I heard you: 'This ends tonight,'" he repeated emotionlessly.

I stepped forward, wanting to see him more clearly—to explain. He held his hand out to tell me to stop. "You've been cheating on me, on us, no wonder you didn't want me to see you. This—this is over!" he said, turning to walk down the stairs.

"Draven! Stop! Listen to me!" I said, chasing after him, but before I could take another step a force blocked me from going forward and the guitar screamed in rage.

"Let me go!" I screamed, pushing forward against the nothing that was holding me back. I flung Britain's phone over the wall in pure anger. "Draven! Come back! I need you!"

The sound of the guitar bellowed, and the invisible force wouldn't let me move. "Let me go!" I yelled, struggling and finally falling to the ground.

Out of the corner of my eye on the staircase that led to the studio, I saw my father. He was staring at me with absolute fear and heartache, like he wanted to tell me something but couldn't. He started to walk up the stairs as the pressure that was holding me back released me. I hesitated, not knowing if I should chase Draven or follow him. I scrambled to my feet and raced up the stairs after my dad. The song changed. It was one of rage and heartache. When I got to the studio, his image was in front of the window and the lights were blinking on and off rapidly.

"Say it," I said through my teeth as my heart raced. "Just say what you want to. I don't understand. Tell me how to beat this!"

I walked boldly to my father, holding his concerned stare as tears began to pool in my eyes. Once I reached him, he vanished. I balled my hands into fists, furious with him, with Draven. My eyes looked past where he was standing, through the window, to Draven's house.

I saw him. I saw Draven. At first, I thought maybe it was Aden, but he was there, too. Draven's back was to the window, and Aden was playing the drums. I pressed my forehead against the window and blinked my eyes to make sure I hadn't gone insane. There was no way he had made it home. I doubted he'd even made it out of the driveway.

My eyes grew wider, and my heart pounded in my chest as my breath left me. The window fogged over instantly, then the word "RUN" appeared.

I turned and grabbed my bag, throwing it across myself, then ran down the steps, trying to find my keys. I pushed through the back door. It was dark now. I could hear the hiss of the shadows as I rushed to my car and struggled to find the right key.

I threw the car in reverse and sped around the side of the house. I couldn't see anything. My headlights weren't powerful enough to shine through the shadows that were blocking my path. As my car drove over the bridge, I felt the vibration of the wood as it began to fall. I tried to speed forward, but the floor gave way and the back of my car crashed through to the creek below. My front wheels were balancing on the edge of the bank, but as the water began to push against the back of the car, the wheels lost their balance and the car began to slide back.

The water started to rush in all around me. I tried to open the door, but the weight of the water was too much. I was petrified. I turned in my seat and started to kick the window. I used all the force I could as my feet slammed against the glass over and over again. The water was climbing over my body—it was cold and dark. I took in a deep breath and put my head under the water and kicked once more, that time, the window gave way. I turned in the water and climbed through the broken window, feeling the glass slice my side.

I surfaced by my car, only to find myself trapped again. The bridge had collapsed all around me, and though I was above the water, I knew the only way out would be to swim beneath the bridge. Dark shadows began to take shape and whisper to me, "Come, Charlie...come, Charlie."

I glared in their direction, then took in a deep breath and dove under the water. The bed of the creek was littered with jagged rocks, and I had to struggle in the darkness to find my way around the wood that had fallen from the bridge. I felt something holding my leg back. In my panicked state, I was sure it was the darkness. I turned my body to fight it, and when I did I saw that it was a jagged rock that had hooked my jeans. I was losing my breath, so I pulled forward, feeling the leg of my jeans tear away from me.

I found the surface and my breath in the next second. I crawled out on the bank, gasping for air. Coughing the nasty creek water out of my lungs, I tried to focus my eyes so I could find my bearings. I had no idea which way to run. I crawled forward and saw feet before me. My eyes slowly rose up to see Britain reaching his hand down to help me up.

"What happened? Are you OK?" he said in a troubled tone.

I didn't take his hand. I scrambled to my feet and glared at him. "You need to read the rule book again. I told you to go away. How dare you try to kill me!" I screamed in anger.

"Me?" he asked in an astonished tone as his steel blue eyes looked innocently over me. I knew that look, and it didn't belong to Britain. It belonged to Bianca. I tried to focus my eyes, fearing I was in shock and that they were playing tricks on me. "Charlie... you're safe with me," the image of Britain said calmly as it stepped closer me. "Listen...it's silent."

I looked all around me and heard the silence of the darkness. In my mind, I called forth the sound of my song. I remembered it as loud as I could, flooding the silence with its purity.

"I hate the silence," I said through gritted teeth as I felt the song in my mind empower me.

"You know what your problem is?" the image asked in an amused tone. I knew then for sure that Bianca was behind this image. I could hear her tone laced in the image's words.

"Apparently, I don't," I said, glaring at this image.

"I'll tell you," the image said smugly. At that moment, I saw her come to life within it—I saw Bianca. I guess she figured out she wasn't fooling me. "You're too stupid and blind to see your own power. Too stupid to see that not only will I end you, I will end them all. You knocked on the wrong door, princess."

"If you touch them—if you even look in their direction, I will stop at nothing to destroy you—my willpower alone will end the tragedy you bring."

"'Tragedy,'" she repeated as she smiled confidently, like that was what she adored: tragedy.

"Aren't you the devil—a demon?" My eyes looked over her in disgust. "No, you're not the devil. You're just a servant. Too weak to have your own life, too weak for me to even conceive as real. I should pity you, but I can't. There are too many others that deserve my help."

She laughed out loud and stepped forward. "You are nothing. Do you hear me? Nothing. Not anymore."

I pushed her, and she stumbled backwards, then her image changed back to Britain's strong image. As his arms encircled me, pulling me against the cold energy, I could feel it in whatever this was I was fighting. At that moment, I saw headlights beam across us. It was Madison. She slammed her car in park and pushed her door open.

The image nodded his head in her direction, and all at once dark shadows consumed her. I screamed in horror as I watched her vanish. I couldn't tell if she was still here or not. I thought I could hear her saying random words, but there was no way for me to be sure. I was still hiding behind my song in my mind, and my heart was beating violently in my ears.

"Let her go!" I screamed, pushing against this cold, dark energy that seemed to hold more power than any human could perceive.

"Why, Charlie? What good would that do me?" the image asked in an amused tone as he let me go.

"Send the shadows to me!" I demanded.

The image shook his head no. "I'm not a fool. Never have been."

"Obviously, you're blind. I wouldn't submit to you for silence. It's not my misery I'd wish to end."

The image slowly began to circle me. I ignored it. As I stared at Madison, I could see her through the darkness; she was helping—breaking through them. I knew it wouldn't be long before she'd be at my side. In the distance, I could see headlights speeding toward us—I knew as high as they were that it had to be Draven—that he'd seen my father's warning in the window of his studio, that he was coming for me.

The image circled in front of me and reached its cold arms around my shoulders. "Go back to sleep..." the image said as the pupils within its eyes began to expand and contrast just as Draven's Hummer reached my driveway. The image breathed in, and I felt the warmth of my soul fading, a numbing cold filled every part of me.

I felt a weight come over me, so heavy, so mindlessly numb that I closed my eyes and began to fall. I heard Draven scream my name. I heard Aden scream at the image that reflected Britain then I heard the whispers hiss. As I collided with the ground, I tried to focus. I saw the shadows overtake Aden. They tried to overtake Draven, but he was saying random words so fast, the darkness was breaking apart before it could reach him.

Draven charged at Britain. I tried to scream, to tell him to stop, that it was an image of a demon—not some shadow that could be talked down—but I couldn't find the words. I was slipping away. I was losing myself again. My eyes closed, and the only sound I could hear was my guitar.

The darkness started to fade, and I heard my name: "Charlie." It was so faint that I couldn't tell who had said it. "Charlie," the voice said again. I opened my eyes, and all around me there was a white glow. It was warm and inviting, and I felt at peace.

Kneeling beside me, looking adoringly at me was my father.

"Are you real?" I asked in a tearful voice. "Did I just die?"

He gently reached for my hand and pulled me up. "You are not only alive...your soul is on fire."

"Help me stop this. Help them fight the shadows," I pleaded, looking into my father's dark eyes. I watched as he carefully looked over every part of my face.

"The shadows are not the enemy."

"I can't save them fast enough. There are too many memories, too much heartache."

My father tilted his head and smiled warmly. "All you have to do is invoke an emotion—one emotion...and the most powerful emotion may be one they have never felt."

"Then how can I help them remember something they never felt?" I asked in a pleading voice.

"Show them what it feels like to have it. Let them see it in your life."

"I can't let my shield down. It's not safe."

"My beautiful girl," he said, reaching to cradle my face. "It would only take an instant then you can hide behind the wall I gave you."

He leaned forward and kissed my forehead. I closed my eyes and felt the bliss of his presence fade and the coldness of the ground come to life around me. I struggled to open my eyes. Through a blur, I could see Draven and Bianca, face to face. I could see Aden and Madison still struggling with darkness. I was terrified she was hypnotizing him— stealing him from me.

I pulled myself up on one arm, and in the loudest voice I could manage I said, "Come."

In that instant, I was surrounded by dark images and evil taunts. I couldn't see past them. I had no way of knowing if they were the same ones that the others were fighting or simply more.

Too weak to hold myself up, I laid back on the ground and stared up at them as they hovered around me. "Do you want to feel this?" I mumbled as I let my shield fall and the memories I had of Draven loving me—the way his kiss felt—the way I felt when I heard him say "I love you" came to life around me.

The whispers stopped, and the images that were all around me grew hungry for that emotion. I let the sound of my guitar play in mind and felt my shield come to life again.

"If so," I mumbled, trying to hold my eyes open, "fight for the one I love—redeem yourself with this one good deed."

My eyes closed against my will. When I forced them open, I saw that the images were walking away from me. I rolled to my side and saw that Aden and Draven were side by side and that Madison was running to me.

Bianca looked past Draven to the images of the shadows that were coming to Draven's side. Madison reached me and pulled my head into her lap.

"He has to show them," I said, trying to focus.

"Show them what?" she said breathlessly as she tried to get me to focus.

"Tell Draven to show them us—our memories—that will help them all at once," I said, pushing her to go to him.

"Draven!" she screamed.

He looked our way. Madison didn't say a word. She just let him see her memories—she let him see what I'd just said. Draven furrowed his brow as he looked at me, then behind himself. In that instant, I saw every shadow turn into a light. Separate, they were dim, but together, they were near blinding. In that instant, Bianca was gone and Britain was standing in front of Draven. I thought I was going insane—how was that image doing that? Who was Draven fighting? Did he even see Bianca? Was that Bianca who mocked the image of Draven before? My head spun as I tried to grasp reality.

Draven turned and glared at Britain. "This is over."

I stared at the image of Britain, waiting for him to say or do something. Then all at once, the image turned into Bianca again. I blinked, thinking my eyes were definitely playing tricks on me. When I focused again, I saw Britain. I started to crawl forward, not trusting anything I could see as I moved. Britain turned into Bianca and smiled daringly down at me. But before I could scream her name, she turned back into Britain.

The image looked at Draven, and a confident grin came across its face. "No, she's already asleep, you're too late."

Draven charged forward, but the light behind him and Aden was faster than he was—it swarmed around the image of Britain, then a vibration of pure energy erupted, and it was dark again. They were gone. I couldn't hold my eyes open any longer. I let my eyes fall and felt myself drifting deeply into sleep.
Chapter Eighteen

Somewhere in my sleep, the sound of my guitar began to fade, and I heard a much sweeter voice. I heard Draven scream my name. I tried to answer him, but I couldn't. I was too weak. I felt his lips on mine. I felt warmth, life, and love flowing through me. It was as if I could breathe for the first time ever. I kissed him back. I felt his arms tighten around me and pull me up. I opened my eyes, gasping for breath. Draven was holding me, and Madison and Aden were at his side. It was silent.

"Come on," Draven said, leaning down to pick me up. "Ride with her," he yelled at Aden as he ran to his Hummer.

He opened the passenger door of his Hummer and slid me in. I looked out the window to see Madison and Aden climbing in her car. I looked back at the collapsed bridge. I had no idea how I had survived the moment it fell. All you could see was the roof lying across the water. Draven climbed in and pulled me closer to him as he sped through the streets toward his house.

"Where's my mom? Kara?" I asked as my focus came back to me.

"My house. Your mom wanted to see Nana."

"Did you tell them I was in danger?" I asked, fearing my mother was near insane at this point.

"No, we didn't say anything. We just ran. Aden called Madison. We knew she was closer."

"She should have waited for you. I thought she was gone at first."

He tightened his arm around me as he drove faster. Once we reached his house, he sped around to the back of the house. I tried to sit up as he got out, but I felt the pain in every single one of my muscles. Draven gently pulled me to him and carried me across the garage.

"She's bleeding, Draven we should go to the hospital," Aden demanded.

"It's nothing. I don't wanna go anywhere," I pleaded as I tried to sit up in his arms. Draven held me closer and nodded for Aden to open the door for him. Madison rushed in behind him. As Draven carried me in, I saw Nana, my mom, and Kara around the island in the kitchen. I could see the terror in their eyes and heard the overlapping questions as Draven carried me through the kitchen.

"Find the first aid kit," he yelled as he carried me up the stairs. At the top of the stairs, he turned to the right, then into the first doorway. He laid me across his bed, which centered the room. My mother was right behind us.

"Look at me, Draven. Tell me what happened!"

He looked over his shoulder at my mother as I felt Kara crawl across the bed and start to look over me.

"Stop," I said, pulling myself up. "I'm fine, just a little weak."

"Look at me," my mom said, reaching for my shoulders. "Show me what happened. I think you need to go to the hospital."

"I'm not going anywhere. I'm safe here."

"Look at me!" my mother commanded.

At that instant, I looked into her eyes and let my shield fall. I showed not only her but also each of them every single second that I'd endured, the mock fight with Draven, myself fleeing from the house, the bridge collapsing, my fight for breath under the water, and the words I said to that image.

I looked past my mom at Draven. I could see rage in his eyes as he relived it with me. Aden pushed him out of the room. I'm sure to calm him down. Madison followed them. I knew she was prepared to follow them wherever they chose to go. I pulled myself up. I needed to talk to Draven to calm him down.

"I'll find the first aid kit," Kara said, rushing out of the room.

Nana turned and started to go through Draven's dresser at the end of the bed. I was sure she was looking for something for me to change into.

My mother looked to her side at the thin air. "Do I need to take her to the doctor? How bad is it?" she demanded.

At that moment, the image of my father appeared. He reached his hand for my shoulder, then looked over me carefully and shook his head no. I swear I could see pride beaming from him. My mother tried to smile, but she was too worried for me. She pulled me to the other side of the room where Draven's bathroom was.

"Take these off so I can see the scrapes," she said as she closed the door.

I slowly began to take my clothes off, feeling the soreness all over me. Once I pulled my shirt off, I could see the scrapes on my side. They were covered in mud from the creek. I slid my boots off, then my jeans.

"Rinse off so I can treat these," she said as she turned the water on in the shower.

I didn't argue. The smell of the creek in my hair was near nauseating. I let the warm water run over me and take away the evidence of the murky water. As I let my hands rush across my side, I could feel small pieces of glass. I pulled them from my skin, squinting in pain as I watched the water wash away the blood.

I heard the door open and shut a few times. I was sure it was Kara and Nana bringing in the first aid kit and clothes for me. I lingered under the warm water, blocking out their voices as they whispered about me. My mind replayed all that I'd faced. I didn't find relief in my emotions like I should, all I found was dread. I knew that this wasn't over. We didn't just fight Britain. That was Bianca. That was the devil.

My mother reached in the shower, turned off the water, and handed me a towel. I didn't look at her. I kept my eyes down as I took the towel and dried off behind the curtain then wrapped it around me.

I pushed the curtain back to find concerned stares coming from Nana, Kara, and my mom.

Nana reached for a pair of shorts on the counter and held them open for me to slide into. I pulled them up and folded them down to make them small enough for me. Kara handed me a white T-shirt of Draven's. As I pulled it over my head, I took in the addicting aroma he always seemed to have. I held it above my ribs so my bleeding side wouldn't stain it. My mom gently gripped my arm and urged me to sit on the side of the tub.

Both she and Nana started to treat the scrapes on my side as Kara brushed my hair out. I just stared forward, lost in a vacant thought.

"Stand up for me," my mother said quietly.

I did as she requested, and she kneeled at my side so she could see my wounds. She then reached for the first aid kit and pulled out a pair of tweezers.

"I can do this, just leave us alone," my mom said, looking at Kara and Nana.

Nana put her hand on my mother's shoulder, then smiled faintly at me as she turned to leave.

"Let me help, Mom," Kara pleaded.

"We're fine," my mother said as she removed another piece of glass from my side.

Kara leaned into me and kissed the side of my brow before she followed Nana. I looked in Draven's room as she left, wanting to see him, but he wasn't there.

Once my mother was sure all of the glass was gone, she rubbed medicine across the scrapes then closed the wounds with bandages.

"Good as new," I mumbled as she stood and started to clean up the mess we'd made.

"No, almost, though," she said, looking over her shoulder at me.

I thought maybe she was mad at me for not telling Draven, for facing this on my own. I stepped forward and leaned against the counter.

"I didn't have a chance, Mom. Not after we talked it just happened so fast."

She stepped closer to me, and her eyes danced all over my face. "You have to promise me that you'll never make a deal with the darkness."

"I didn't," I said in a confused tone.

"Charlie, I can see clearly. You told them you would not make a deal for silence. You told them you have a price."

I tried to remember what she was talking about; she heard what I meant the wrong way. I moved my head from side to side. "I told him I wouldn't come to him for silence and that saving them would be my only reason."

"Right," my mother said firmly. "You should have never told them your price."

"It's not a price, it's my way of knowing that no matter what, we can stop this."

"You're not a sacrifice. You're my daughter, and I taught you to be strong. We don't give up in this family."

I looked down and regretted the words I'd said and wondered how I'd pay for them in the distant future.

"I want you to run. Run like hell."

I looked up at her like she was insane. "You taught me to be strong. Not to run."

"Don't use my words against me," she said as her eyes filled with sympathy. "I want you to run like hell toward your fate. You were born for more than I could ever explain."

"I'm not leaving you. Your heart has been broken too many times."

"I'm not alone, Charlie. I never have been, your father has always been at my side. I refuse to lose you. I refuse to watch this destroy you when you're meant to rule it."

"Mom, one of the best lessons you've taught me is not to be selfish. I watched you give your life to Kara and me. It would be selfish for me to carry this demon to another's doorstep—we're not running."

I watched as she fought back tears and let out a jagged breath. "Embrace your gifts, Charlie. Fight here for now if you want, but you have to fight."

"I will," I whispered.

She reached her arms around me and pulled me to her. We swayed back and forth in the silence for a moment or two then she slowly let me go.

She let out a deep breath then opened the door. Draven was sitting on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands. Madison was on one side of him, and Aden was on the other. He looked up as my mom walked past him. My eyes stared into his as I walked closer.

Draven stood and reached his arms out for me. Madison and Aden stood as well. I could feel the nervous anticipation in the air as I walked closer to Draven. Once in his arms, he pulled me to him, carefully avoiding my side.

"I think we should go," Aden said, looking at Madison.

"You don't have to go..." I said, leaning back and looking at them both. "I'm sorry you had to go through that with me. I tried to do it on my own," I said quietly.

They both shook their heads at once. "I told you we're stronger together," Aden said, leaning to kiss my forehead before he turned to leave the room.

Madison's eyes searched all over me. "I wish I could have gotten there faster, been strong enough to fight through the shadows."

I let go of Draven and reached my arms out for her. She fought back tears and tried to smile as she stepped closer to me. "Your timing is always perfect, and you were so strong. I saw you help them. I could see the light."

"You're the light," she whispered, hugging me back. She looked down, then reached to grip Draven's arm as she passed him to leave. Once she closed the bedroom door, I glanced up at Draven to find him staring at me.

I reached up and pulled his lips to mine. As I felt the warmth of his kiss, I felt a passion in my soul.

I felt the aches in my body begin to fade as an urgency to hold him tighter came over me. He was careful not to touch my side as his hands gripped my waist and pulled me against him. As I raised my arms, I felt my bandage come loose, and I feared I was bleeding. I pulled away slowly and reached for my side.

"Let me see," he said as he raised my shirt. "Lay down. I'll get another one," he said, gently encouraging me to lie across the bed. I didn't argue. I was still weak. I laid on my side and waited for him.

My bag was across his dresser, and everything inside of it was lying out so it could dry. I glanced at the phone and tried to remember if that was mine or Britain's. Then I remembered throwing Britain's at the image of Draven.

I felt Draven's warm hand pull the side of my shirt up. "The moment that image told you I was leaving you, should've been the moment you realized it was the darkness toying with you," he said quietly as he replaced the bandage on my side.

I looked down at him and reached my hand to cradle his face. "Are you seeing me now?"

He leaned in and gently kissed my side, sending a warm sensation through every part of me before he answered. "I see tonight...I'm still blind to the void."

I reached for his arm and pulled him to me. He crawled to my side and leaned over me. I found myself captivated by the beauty in his green eyes. "I'll show you everything," I whispered as I let my fingers run through the dark locks of his hair. I took in a deep breath and remembered it all.

"Show me," he demanded quietly.

I held his stare and let it all flow every single second of that night, everything that led to it. I watched as rage filled his eyes and he slowly sat up. I braced my hand on his arm. "Please don't be mad at me. I thought they were going to hurt you," I whispered.

We rode waves and waves of emotion as he went over all that I'd been through, all the impossible things I'd seen.

"No more secrets...promise me," he said when the same state of shock I was riding took residence inside of him.

"I promise," I said as tears hazed over my eyes.

He leaned forward and gently kissed my lips. I felt my heart race and my skin blush with anticipation as his arms gently wrapped around me. As he laid me down, I squinted in pain. I was prepared to ignore it just so I could feel his touch, but he wasn't prepared to watch me try. He slowly pulled away and stared into my eyes.

"I guess the best thing about all of this...was falling deeper in love with you. I feel like it taught me to never take you for granted. It showed me that what we have between us is divine, sacred, and it can never be divided...at least not for long."

"I love you," I whispered.

A blushing smile beamed across his face.

"What?"

"You haven't told me that since you lost your memory...I missed hearing it."

My eyes searched across his captivating image. He was right.

"Tell me you at least felt it," I asked as sorrow filled my eyes.

He gently reached his hand to caress my face. "I felt it the moment you saw me in that restaurant. I felt you wanting me to come over to the table and say something to you."

"Why didn't you?"

"Not driving to that ER, not watching you walk the line at your graduation was the hardest thing I've ever done, but I had to let you come back. I was terrified that if I showed up and demanded that you remember me, our life together would stay lost in your memories. I had to wait for you to find your way, but I was always there, right there, listening for you to ask me to be with you, for you to let me in."

"You're stronger than me, if this was reversed, I wouldn't have been able to wait."

"You never know how strong you are until you have no other choice," he said just before he stole a kiss. "I want to run away with you...I think we need to go with Austin."

My eyes raced across his face. "Before we go...we're gonna have to figure out how to control the darkness."

"We're running from it. Why would we need to control it?" he asked, sitting up, prepared to argue with me.

I pulled myself up and caught his intense stare. "We gotta build the ladder, Draven. Jacob's Ladder. Write a song to help thousands, millions at once. They are our power. We have to learn to command and respect the honor of this."

"A concert for the dead?" he said as he raised his brow. I could tell he was deeply considering my words by the excitement I saw in his calm eyes.

I nodded. "I commanded them to save you tonight, before that, I promised countless others that I'd help them if they cleared a path for me. This blends our gifts." I reached for him. "This is the beginning of our freedom."

He smiled a little as he pulled me closer; I flinched as I felt the pain in my side. He pulled away. "I'm gonna get you some medicine. I can't stand knowing you're in pain."

I nodded, then laid down and watched him leave. I let out a deep breath as I felt relief come over me. Charlie was back.

The sound of a vibration pulled me from my thoughts. I sat up slowly and looked to the dresser to see the light of my phone illuminated. How it could have possibly survived the creek? I edged to the side of the bed and walked slowly to the dresser.

I could see Britain's name before I ever reached the phone. My trembling hands picked it up and slid the bar so I could read the text that just arrived.

Bianca wasn't destroyed. She was cut loose. Duck.

At that moment, Draven came in the room with a bottle of water and two pills. He sat them on the dresser and questioned me with his eyes. I looked at him and let him see what had terrified me so badly. Rage filled his eyes as he rushed to my side, leaned down, then grabbed the phone and read it with his own eyes. He threw it across the room and pulled me to him.

"She can't hurt me. Not with you at my side. I'm not running," I said in the most confident tone I could manage.

I reached for his lips pulling him to me, at first his kiss was subtle, but I deepened it. I overpowered him. His hands glided down my sides, easing around my bandages. I broke from his lips and pulled his neck to me, "You're mine. Only mine."

I felt his embrace tighten around me; his lips find my forehead, my nose, then my lips.

"I love you Draven Michaels."

"Love you." he said as his lips brushed against mine.

"Come..." I said, pulling away. "Let's go play...we have a song to write."

"You need to rest," he said, letting his lips rest on my forehead.

"I've been asleep too long. I want to fight, and this is the only way I know how."

I reached for the pills and water then opened the door. I looked over my shoulder to make sure he was following me.

As I walked down the hallway, I knocked on the door I was sure was Aden's. I'd already passed it when he opened it.

"Where's Madison?" I heard Draven ask.

"Downstairs," Aden said.

"Go get her, we're writing," Draven said he as caught up to me.

He put his arm around me and led me to the stone steps that went to the studio.

"Stay right here," he said before I reached the top.

I looked at him curiously as he passed me. Aden came to the steps and asked, "Are you OK?"

"Yeah, I just need to hear music, make something strong."

Draven came to the top steps and held out his hand for me to come. When I stepped into the room, I realized he'd simply closed the window off. He'd put us in our own world. A smile came across my face as he helped me to the couch.

Aden went to his drums, and Draven selected a guitar from the stand beneath the window. Madison came in at that moment, looking around the room curiously.

"Have a seat," I said, nodding to the chair.

"Shouldn't you be resting?" she asked as she crossed the room.

"Who has time to sleep? You can help put lyrics to what we write. I don't want you to go far."

A grin spread across her face as she relaxed into the chair. Draven came to my side and held his arm out so I could move closer to him. He placed the guitar across us. I let my fingers grasp the neck.

"What sound are we looking for?" Aden asked as he twirled his sticks.

I leaned up and stole a kiss from Draven then looked down at the guitar across us and played the most powerful note I could create. As the sound faded, I looked across the room at each of them.

"Something completely wicked, a song that holds every emotion, but its foundation is the most powerful one. We're building a ladder."

A grin spread across Aden's face, highlighting his dimples. He began to hash out a rhythm, and Madison rocked to the sound.

Draven leaned into me and whispered, "I love you."

I stared back at him with weary eyes and mouthed the words I love you.

Madison and Aden just grinned at us.

Draven took control of the guitar and began to play a tune so powerful, I could feel it in my core. I knew I was safe right now...I just didn't know for how long.

Special Note:

Whispers of the Damned is part of the "Web of Hearts and Souls," a massive story where more than one series connect. Each series can be read separately or together.

SEE READING ORDER:

Whispers of the Damned   
Witness of a Broken Heart  
Synergy of Souls  
Redefined Love Affair   
Derive (Aden's Beginning)  
A Lovers Revolt   
Scorched Souls

COMBINED WEB OF HEARTS AND SOULS READING ORDER:

Insight  
Embody  
Image  
Whispers of the Damned  
Witness  
Vital  
Vindicate  
Synergy  
Enflame  
Redefined  
Rivulet  
Imperial  
Blakeshire  
Derive  
Emanate  
Exaltation*  
Disavow

The Witches   
Revolt  
Scorched Souls

*If you are a fan of Adult Paranormal Edge can be read with the Web of Hearts, before of after Exaltation--the stories share the same characters.

INSIGHT READING ORDER:

Insight   
Embody   
Image  
Vital  
Vindicate  
Enflame  
Rivulet  
Imperial  
Blakeshire (Drake's Story)  
Emanate  
Exaltation  
Disavow

EDGE SERIES READING ORDER

Alphas Rise  
Dark Lure  
Sacred Betrayal   
Risen Lovers  
Fall of Kings  
Queens Rise

Acknowledgements

Acknowledgements

Over the past four years I have published twenty novels and each of the acknowledgements are moved from one novel to the next. That wasn't done to take short cuts, but because on this journey I have been blessed enough to keep the same souls at my side. I wanted to take the time with this acknowledgement to state how precious they are to me.

My Creator. This passion for words and whispers of characters comes from a place that fills me with divine peace. I know I'm blessed and live in a constant state of gratitude for the ability to feel the unseen, and write it into life...

My husband, no doubt, deserves some kind of medal! The man is there from the first instant the idea is thought to life, through the long days of writing where I slip into another world. He manages the blessed life we have built, taking care of our little ones, making sure that there is some kind of substantial meal on the table for each of us. He's a saint when it comes to telling me what day of the week it is, and letting me know that dawn is approaching and it might be a good idea to get some sleep. He understands that music drives me and is just fine with the same song playing on repeat for days until I have the scene trapped in words. He's used to having a conversation with me and in mid-sentence I stop and rush to write a line down. There is no doubt that he didn't sign up to share his wife with the fictional family that always dances in my mind, but he rocks it all the same. I can't tell you how amazing it is to have someone want your dreams as much as you do, someone that never lets doubt creep into your mindset.

My children, they make me smile every day. They are now to the point where they're all for naming characters, dancing to that same song that plays over and over. They love to joke about 'mom's bubble'—they know that mom dreams wide awake and tease me when they have to pop that bubble to tell me something.

Steffini Walker, Sabrina Hoover—there are not words to express how thankful I am to have found you both! I love you girls!!

Graphic designers are one of the unsung heroes of the publishing world. Which is sad because they're the ones that give your daydreams a face, they bring the emotion and definition to your work that readers new and old will recognize over time. Emma Michaels is another gift; she not only helped me find the image for my debut novel, Insight, but has also been through each of my covers since. She has a way of understanding exactly what I envision and does not rest until that vision is there before us both. This cover was far different from the others. It had to be more than an image that may or not change over the course of time. It had to be a logo, a brand, something that could be identified with this story for seasons to come. Emma rose to that challenge, and I have to say this is one of my favorite covers. It's almost as if she saw the emblem in my mind clear as day and worked until it was created. Emma, you are amazing!

My Betas are amazing. It's their truth that makes them that way, how they are not afraid to tell me what they like and don't, how they don't bat an eye when I hand them a contemporary story, a YA story, or this story. They read each with an open mind and their feedback is priceless. There is not a doubt that it always mirrors the feedback my readers will give me once the story is published for the world at large.

I have the best street team ever! Thank you girls for sharing my daydreams with me!

Readers. I swear to you, to this day it blows my mind that there are people on this earth that I will never have the chance to meet that have shared these stories with me, people who get it, who leave reality and step into my daydreams with me if only for a moment. You humble me. I can't stress that enough. Thank you so much for taking a chance, giving up your time to read my work.

As you can clearly see, people often think that writers have solitary lives, and in some real fashion we do, but more so than not, the story you are reading was impacted by not only those that walked the publishing line with the writer, but the world at large. Inspiration is everywhere, in every dark and positive moment, in every song, drive, commercial. Everything is inspiration. Life is beautiful, even the dark stressful moments. You just have to find that beauty, and thankfully I have outstanding people in my life that ensure that I notice it each and every day.
Playlist

Bradbury – this band answered all of my crazy questions while writing the music hook to this series – find them here http://www.facebook.com/bradburyband

Andy Coupe – Can't Breathe watch here

A Perfect Circle – Counting Bodies Like Sheep

A Perfect Circle – Magdalena

A Perfect Circle – Thinking of You

Nickelback – Lullaby

Chevelle – Send the Pain Below

Chevelle – I Get It

Breaking Benjamin – Into the Nothing

Breaking Benjamin – I will Not Bow

Breaking Benjamin – Anthem of the Angels

Breaking Benjamin – Rain

Breaking Benjamin – Breakdown

10 Years – Fix Me

Puscifer -The Humbling River

Avenged Sevenfold – Afterlife

Lifehouse – Everything

Evans Blue – Stop and Say You Love Me

Evans Blue – Eclipsed

Evanescence – Bring Me to Life

I've Got Friends – Manchester Orchestra

Godsmack – Awake

Deftones – Change

Plumb – Cut

