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  I stiffen. That’s it—he’s compelling her again. It sickens me.

  “What is her name?” Elizabeth asks.

  “She does not have a name. We do not name objects where I come from.”

  My fists clench. That was cruel—even for a demon. I can’t stand watching this any longer. I race over and wave my hand between their faces, wanting to end the connection. But it doesn’t work. This is a memory. I can’t affect it.

  Damien leans back and Elizabeth blinks, coming out of the fog.

  She smiles at the dog, then at Damien. “Thank you, Damien. It will be nice having her here.”

  He smiles, then wraps his arms around her, embracing her.

  I huff and turn away, hating how easily he toys with her. I don’t care what his reasons are—this isn’t right.

  Elizabeth giggles, and I turn back to see Elizabeth in his arms.

  They stare at each other with such love, tenderness, and desire, it makes everything that took place just moments ago no longer seem real.

  “Say the word, and we’ll stop,” he says. “This is your choice, Elizabeth.”

  She blushes, then says, “I want this. I wanted it since the night we met.”

  They exchange another nervous look while I stand there, wondering what they’re talking about.

  He carries her down the hall. I begin to follow but stop when it becomes blatantly obvious where they’re going and what they intend to do.

  I stand in the hallway staring at the bedroom door. Even though I know they can’t see, hear, or feel me, I want to stop them. It’s not just because I need more information or that’s he’s a demon, but because I can’t help but wonder if Damien compelled her to sleep with him. For her sake, I hope he didn’t. Plus, if that’s all he wanted, he could have compelled her to sleep with him the night they met.

  No. He loves her too much to do that. Maybe that’s what he meant when he said it was her choice. I hope so.

  I shiver, recalling Justin’s party and how he tried to compel me to sleep with him too. Thank God it didn’t work.

  Is that what demons do—take away a woman’s right to say no? If so, it’s rape. I don’t care how they see it. It’s wrong, and it needs to stop.

  I can’t take this. I need to wake up. Before, Elizabeth chose when to end the dreams. But that changed when the dreams broke. I think back, trying to remember what has woken me up the past couple nights. Sunday night I felt Damien’s essence. Monday night I connected Damien to MJ. Now that Elizabeth’s not in control of the dreams, maybe I need to experience something really shocking inside it in order to wake up.

  A loud squeak comes from the bedroom, followed by murmured noises of mutual enjoyment.

  I grimace.

  I’m sure if I go into the bedroom, I will see something shocking. Perhaps that might get me out of here. But I don’t want to do that. That’s a very private, intimate moment. And while they won’t know I’m watching, I’d know. I know how it feels to have your privacy violated, and I can’t do that to someone else. There has got to be a way for me to control these dreams.

  Maybe with Damien’s essence still in me, I can wake up on my own. Even though I haven’t mastered my abilities, I’m probably capable of things I don’t even know about yet.

  I bounce up and down, shaking my arms to reduce my nervous energy so I can relax. That will work. Relaxing brought me here; relaxing can get me out.

  Elizabeth’s green walls turn black as my eyelids drop.

  I imagine I’m home. I take a few deep breaths to center myself.

  I can wake up. I’m strong enough to wake myself up. I’m in control. I have power over myself. I can do this on my own. I’m home.

  Please work . . .

  Chapter Twenty

  MJ

  How is it going? I ask Tamitha and Alexander using Cerebrallink. I tap Maddy’s present, which is tucked safely in my pocket, while I wait for their response. Maybe I do worry too much, but given everything Maddy and I have gone through, and how important she is to me, how could I not?

  Neither of them reply.

  I move off the main street so I don’t draw attention to my panic.

  What’s wrong? I ask.

  Still nothing.

  My world stops as fear builds inside me, overwhelming me, nearly bringing me to my knees. Of course the demons were waiting for me to leave her.

  I sprint out of Immortal City and leap off the clouds, entering the Great Divide. I have no idea what I’ll be walking into when I land in Maddy’s bedroom, but I don’t care. I’ll destroy whatever is trying to take her from me.

  As my journey ends, Alexander and Tamitha jump up from their positions beside Maddy’s bed and shift into defensive crouches. They sigh when they see it’s just me. Tamitha returns to her previous position—kneeling beside the bed—while Alexander steps closer to me.

  “Jeez, MJ,” Alexander whispers. “You could have given me a heart attack—you know, if I wasn’t dead already.”

  “Why didn’t you answer? I thought something happened.”

  “Sorry,” Alexander replies. “We heard you. We just didn’t know what to say. I know you warned us, but we didn’t expect this.”

  “Expect what?”

  Tamitha turns to face me. She frowns. “You didn’t tell us her dreams were this bad.”

  Again my world comes to an abrupt halt. Fear grips me so tightly, I feel as if I can’t breathe—even though I don’t physically need to.

  I move and sit beside Maddy. She’s trembling. Her breath is so cold I can see it, and her skin is turning blue.

  I reach out to touch her and fix whatever this is.

  “Don’t,” Tamitha says. “She could be having a vision. You know the risks of waking a psychic.”

  “So I’m just supposed to sit here and watch her freeze to death?”

  “No,” Alexander says, throwing another blanket on her. “If it gets worse, wake her. Right now, though, I agree with Tamitha. Besides, you’re the one who taught us the rules for dealing with mortals who have a sixth sense. She’ll wake up once she’s seen whatever she’s meant to see.”

  “I never should have left her.”

  I run my fingers through my hair, yanking it in hopes of feeling something other than helplessness. I know pulling a mortal out of a vision can be detrimental to his or her mental stability. I never had an issue following the rules before. But I wasn’t in love with the other psychics.

  I release my breath and watch over minn ást as she battles another unknown force on her own.

  “How did it go with the Council?” Tamitha asks.

  “I haven’t met with them yet.”

  Maddy lifts a shaking arm, reaching for something invisible to us, and turns her hand.

  Puffs of frozen air appear faster from her blue lips as she coughs.

  “This has got to be the strangest thing I’ve ever seen,” Alexander says, sitting on the opposite side of the bed near Tamitha.

  I lay down beside her, trying to imagine what she’s seeing. I think she’s trying to turn a knob or a handle of some sort.

  “Whatever you do, don’t tell her about this when she wakes. She doesn’t need to know the three of us watched on as she dealt with whatever this is.”

  They nod.

  Maddy drops her arm, then her body spasms. She grunts and rubs her forehead. When she pulls her hand away, a red welt appears on her pale skin.

  I leap from the bed and pace beside it. “Tell me this isn’t possible. Tell me that injuries in her dreams can’t actually harm her physically too.”

  “I . . . I don’t know,” Tamitha whispers.

  My hands clench in an effort to control my overwhelming need to touch her and get her the hell out of there.

  I’ve heard that psychics have a higher chance of also being empaths, or highly sensitive people. Some feel emotionally connected to the vision spirits or beings. Their minds are often tricked into believing that whatever is happening inside the vision is
also happening to their physical bodies outside the vision. Whether Maddy is an empath or not, there’s a physical mark on her body from something that hit her head in the vision.

  I can’t protect her from something I can’t see. We haven’t even been together a week, and everything keeps trying to take her from me.

  Maddy shivers, and her teeth chatter. She raises her fists and furiously pounds in the air. “P-please open the d-d-door!”

  At the sound of her freezing, panic-filled voice, I crumble to the bed beside her. I don’t know if she can hear me. I don’t care, though. I have to do something.

  “You’re not there, Maddy,” I say. “You’re home in your bed. Come back to me. Please, Father, help her come back to me.”

  She stops moving, sucks in a huge breath, and does . . . nothing.

  “That’s it. I’m getting her out of there.”

  I reach out to touch her pale, freezing skin, but Tamitha grabs my hand and stops me.

  “Look,” she says, pointing to Maddy.

  I follow her gaze, and remarkably, Maddy is no longer shaking. Her breathing seems to be at a more normal rate, and it’s no longer frozen puffs. Her skin is even returning to light ivory.

  “Oh, thank Father,” I say and release a ragged breath.

  Tamitha and Alexander let out relieved sighs as well.

  Maddy smiles as her arms open wide then shrink slightly, as if she’s hugging the air. Then she tilts her head, her lips pucker, and—

  I turn away, not wanting to watch on as she kisses some unseen entity. Clearly, she has no control over what happens inside her dreams. But I want to know who the—

  “I thought you said she dreams of a woman?” Alexander asks. “I know this is the twenty-first century and equality is finally coming closer to its intended definition, but I didn’t see this coming.”

  “There’s a man too,” I grumble.

  I remember him from her friend Kelli’s mind. Kelli envisioned him as the classic hero who swoops in and rescues the dream woman. Maddy doesn’t know Kelli sketches him. She has notebooks full of him, especially his eyes. She loves to draw his captivating black eyes.

  “Oh, dammit!”

  “What?” Tamitha and Alexander ask together.

  I whip around back to Maddy. Other than a sly smile on her face and a slightly accelerated heart rate, she’s resting peacefully.

  “I’ve been so consumed by the woman that I missed it.”

  “Missed what?” Alexander asks.

  “The guy she’s dreamed of since she was a baby is a demon.”

  For a moment, the room is silent as we continue to watch over Maddy.

  “Do you think . . . he knows about her?” Alexander asks.

  “I don’t know. Maddy always believed the woman controlled the dreams. Maybe it’s true. If so, maybe she’s trying to warn Maddy of him.”

  “Do we know what he looks like or anything about what type of demon he is?” Alexander asks. “Anything that might help us find him?”

  If I weren’t so overwhelmed, I’d smile. He barely knows Maddy, yet he’s ready to face another demon to help me keep her safe.

  “His name is Damien,” I reply. “That’s all I got from reading Maddy’s friend’s mind.”

  “Well, a name is more than you had when we first looked into Maddy.”

  “You’re right. I can find him. Then I can figure out just how much he knows about her.”

  “No, go talk to the Council first,” Tamitha says. “They’re not known for their patience. Then when you’re back, Alexander can help you find the demon. If we don’t get a handle on this situation, we will be up to our elbows in demons by the weekend.”

  I look back at Maddy, now sleeping peacefully. Tamitha’s right. I do have to go. But it’s so hard to leave Maddy with so many things left unknown.

  “Promise me you’ll answer if I call?”

  “Yes,” Tamitha says.

  “Or if the vision changes more?”

  “Yes,” she says as she shoos me away from the bed.

  “Okay. I’ll go. Just tell her that—”

  “She knows.”

  “We all do,” Alexander adds.

  I cast one more glance at Maddy and then, incredibly, I find the strength to leave her and return to Immortal City.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  MJ

  The kaleidoscope ends as I exit the Great Divide. I stumble, and my jaw drops as I take in the shocking scene. The misty path is empty—no one is waiting to cross over into Immortal City.

  My body tenses. I look to Thaddeus, who guards the gates, for an explanation. But not only is he not standing at his post, the Gates are closed. In all my years, this has never happened.

  Suddenly a bright silhouette appears before the gates. I shield my eyes for a moment, waiting for it to dim before I lower my arm.

  As I blink, a figure begins to take shape. Massive wings span nearly twenty feet. Golden armor, over his white robe, glistens in the ever-shining sunlight. He’s clutching a shield in one hand and a sword in the other.

  He’s an Archangel, and he’s ready for war.

  I take a moment to clear my mind and unglamour my wings. I adjust my footing to account for the weight. My feathers rustle in the breeze. It’s been a while since I set them free.

  My wings bend to a relaxed position. The tips touch the ground, though they’re nowhere near as impressive as the ones before me.

  The Archangel’s wings retract as he walks toward me. He towers over me—reaching beyond eight feet tall. His skin, a golden tan, defines his muscles. He has bright blue eyes and wavy light brown hair. He is the Archangel Michael.

  I’m not used to seeing him outside his home, let alone on the other side of the Gates. Even though I’m still disturbed by the sight before me, I wait for him to speak.

  “What news do you bear from Mortal Ground?” he asks.

  I straighten and keep my mind clear. Whatever is going on here, it isn’t good. My response will either calm him—or start the war.

  “It has not already begun?” he asks, hearing my thoughts. He shifts, losing some of his edge.

  “No. Why would you think it had?”

  He stares at me. From the intrusion I feel in my mind, I’m confident he’s searching for something hidden in my memory.

  He pulls back, then his battle gear disappears, leaving him in just his robe. He clasps his hand in front of him and begins walking along the border between Immortal City and the Great Divide. I follow.

  “I summoned you six mortal hours ago,” he begins. “I felt your presence in Immortal City shortly after, but you did not come to the summons at the Basilica Trascendentium. Instead you went to the Supplementum, Vestimentum—”

  “Forgive me. I was low on supplies and clothes. I thought it wise to collect them before meeting with you.”

  “That I can understand. What troubles me is what occurred after.”

  I look at him, unsure of what he’s talking about. His face is serene, giving no hints.

  “Millions of angels watched you run through the heart of Immortal City and leap into the Great Divide.”

  I can picture in my head how it must have looked to everyone. At first I’m sure they were startled to see an angel do such a thing. Then once they realized it was me, they probably assumed the worst.

  Michael murmurs an agreement and bows his head. “So you see my confusion, then, when you returned with a peaceful, albeit worried, mind.”

  “I apologize,” I say, though it is not enough. “I did fear that my team was under attack, but it proved to be a false alarm.”

  “Immortal City will be glad to hear it.”

  The atmosphere calms, and tension in my body loosens.

  We walk in silence.

  “Since we are not in fact at war and your Charge is being tended to,” he finally says, “I trust you are now able to answer your summons.”

  “Yes,” I reply. “Of course.”

  We circle back towa
rd the Gates.

  “We have heard troubling things from your area,” he begins, “and we thought it best to confer with you before seeking further action.”

  “Further action” means calling on the Perfugae. I do my best to control my reaction to the news. Knowing he’s reading my mind, I play a slideshow of images in my head that I want him to know about.

  “The town has many troubling details,” I reply. “The most pressing matter is that the town has a Trifecta, though it is not recorded on any of the Trifecta catalogs. If a lesser-trained Protector had been sent there, I fear the result could have been catastrophic.”

  He stops walking and turns to face me. “How does the fire that reached the sky factor into this?”

  I do not lie. “I have yet to discover how that happened.”

  “Is that why you have called in for reinforcements? From our understanding of your case, your Charge is not in any imminent threat. Unless the demon were to alter its plans, of course.”

  Not seeing any way around it, I say, “I have placed my Charge in the hands of my team while I look into these matters. While the town indeed has a Trifecta, I have encountered only one spirit and one demon, when there should be hundreds. Also, there were many inconsistencies in my Charge’s file about the town and townsfolk, which, when combined, leads me to believe an entity, or a group of entities, has somehow gone to extreme measures to hide the town even from us.”

  He strokes his chin while his eyes look over the Divide. “The demon you mentioned,” he says. “Do you believe it is trying to control the town?”

  “The Influencer managed to control a large portion of the town,” I begin. “But I suspect he is a scapegoat for someone more powerful.”

  “We have heard of this Influencer from Protector Andrew, who was assigned to Benjamin Wolters—”

  “Has his file been read?”

  He falls silent, and his gaze flashes to mine.

  The mention of Ben caught me off guard. If his file’s been read, that would mean he’s here somewhere—unless he chose to be reborn already. Finding him is exactly what I need to help—

  I immediately stop my train of thought, not wanting him to hear it.