Brooklyn stepped to my side, making me grateful my two best friends were near.

I drew air into my lungs and began again. “I was dying. I felt life leaving me, and you brought me back. You have some kind of power.”

I inched closer to him. I could almost feel Cameron tense behind me in one of his ill-conceived attempts at protection. Brooklyn turned toward him, ready to fight with all of her five feet if he tried anything. She could never actually faze him, but that didn’t matter. She was there for me, as always. God bless her freaky little soul.

“Am I wrong?” When he looked down, listening but not answering, I continued. “You fight monsters,” I said, trying to piece together the events as I spoke, “and save girls hit by trucks. But why? Did you come here just to save me?”

Cameron laughed out loud, the sound harsh and out of place in the quiet room. “I’m pretty sure we already covered this, Lorelei. It doesn’t do that.” He tilted his head to the side, studying Jared. “Tell her, Reaper. Tell her why you’re here.”

I wanted to get closer, to reassure him he could tell me anything, but I also remembered how incredibly strong he was. And impossibly fast. I decided to plead from where I stood. “Please, Jared. I just want to know what happened.”

He turned back to me at last, a vertical line creasing the skin between his brows. “I wasn’t there to save your life, Lorelei.” He studied me a moment longer, then said, “I was there to take it.”

“Bingo,” Cameron said, applauding tauntingly, his satisfaction almost eclipsing the disgust he wore. “Give the man a prize.”

“I don’t understand.” I stepped back in shock. “I was dying. I almost died, and you saved me. I felt it.”

Jared wiped the back of his hand across his brow, where a stream of blood dripped onto his lashes. “No,” he said after a long pause, “you wouldn’t have died for another forty-eight minutes. By then it would have been too late. I was sent to take you sooner.”

I stood in a daze. A fog of disbelief immobilized me. He was lying. He had to be. Why would he be sent to kill me? What had I done?

Brooklyn wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “What are you talking about?” she asked Jared. “How can you know that kind of stuff?”

Jared’s countenance hardened, cementing me to the spot. He began talking about things that didn’t happen, things I didn’t want to happen.

“After you were hit, you were medevaced to Albuquerque,” he said. “You never made it. You died less than two minutes into the flight.” He paused again, gave me a moment to absorb his words before continuing. Then, in the softest voice, he added, “But your grandparents didn’t know that.”

I gasped aloud and straightened. “My grandparents?”

“They were upset. Driving too fast. There was a sharp curve and they crossed the centerline. They collided head-on with another vehicle.”

My hand flew to my mouth. Emotion seized me, squeezed my chest painfully. Tears sprang to my eyes and blurred my vision. Glitch and Brooklyn both grabbed me as I swayed, my knees giving in to the weight of his words. They guided me to a rickety wooden crate.

“Everyone involved died instantly,” he continued, forging on. “I was sent to take you before they called the helicopter, before your grandparents started for Albuquerque.”

“You’re talking in past tense like it already happened,” Brooklyn said, clearly upset herself. “It didn’t.”

He frowned as though surprised by her statement. “Time … doesn’t work like you think.” He stood and started toward us.

In an instant, Cameron was in front of him, pain forgotten, their anger ratcheting, and I was sure the fighting would begin again. Fresh tears pushed past my lashes. I couldn’t see them fight again. I couldn’t be a witness to such brutality, such gut-wrenching violence.

In the movies it seemed so easy. Nothing was real. Men were expected to fight, and the good guys always won. But in real life the violence was sickening, traumatizing. It made no sense. There was no black-and-white, no good-guy–bad-guy scenario, no solid line of virtue with which to keep score. There were only shades of gray. The pain was real. The blood was real. And I would rather die than see that again. I closed my lids, pushing the tears from my eyes to fall down my cheeks and drip from my chin.

“I’m sorry, Lorelei,” Jared continued, watching me. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Cameron scoffed. “Okay, superhero, you saved her.” He leaned forward, his face mere inches from Jared’s. “So why don’t you just leave?”

With the speed of a cobra, Jared shoved Cameron back, his stance offensive, seeming to beg him to retaliate. “Don’t you think I’ve tried? Do you think I want to be here? I don’t know what happened. I shifted and locked on to this plane, but I have no idea why.”

Cameron had caught himself before he fell. He turned, brimming with satisfaction. Jared’s push was the invitation he’d been waiting for.

But Glitch stepped in between them, whether on purpose or not, I didn’t know. “You mean, you can’t leave?” he asked. “Why?”

“I would relish that answer myself.” He scowled at Cameron, then eased back onto the windowsill, clutching his ribs in pain. “Something happened after I saved you, Lorelei. Something changed.”

“What?” Brooklyn asked, trying to coax more information from him. “What changed?”




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