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  “Were you here at the bridge?” MJ asks. His voice feels a million miles away. I have to bring him back to me.

  “No. She said it was a version of Heaven, and from the perfect sky and clouded ground, I believed her. I think she wanted to tell me what you and Justin were, but she couldn’t. So instead, she showed me your death.”

  “What do you mean she showed it to you? You said you dreamed about my death.”

  I turn away, not wanting to see his expression as he uncovers this lie. But then I turn back to him and meet his eyes. I’m done lying to him.

  “She has this fountain—she called it a Time Keeper. On the surface of the water were images of you and Lifa. She put me in the fountain, and when I came out of it, I was inside Lifa. That’s how I saw your death. I wanted to explain all this to you . . . I just didn’t know how. Calling it a dream seemed simpler at the time.”

  “What else did she do to you?” he snaps.

  I don’t believe he’s mad at me—at least I hope not. I think his anger lies with Elizabeth. To him, she’s just another unknown being in a long list of beings he wants to protect me from. But she’s not like the others. She’s good, and I need to make him see that.

  “When I woke up, I was back at Justin’s house, but I could feel her with me. She helped me before you got there. If it weren’t for her, I would’ve signed the contract the first time Justin tried.”

  The horrible, painful memory plagues me. What little safety I felt here with MJ is sucked out of me, and all that’s left is an icy chill.

  A burst of frozen air escapes my lips as I take in the changing scene around us. Frost creeps along the pond, shriveling everything it touches with its icy claws.

  MJ’s essence furiously battles the bitter cold inside me. Slowly, warmth builds inside me, and slowly the pond returns to normal.

  MJ caresses my cheek. “Can you promise me something, Maddy?”

  “What?”

  “Don’t use your ability to go to other places anymore—not even the bridge. Not until we understand it better.”

  “Why?”

  “Just promise me, please.”

  I stare at him, seeing the distance in his eyes. Something scared him. Was it the frost, the vision of Lauren, or is there more to it? Whatever it is, I want to put his mind at ease. “Okay,” I reply. “I’ll try not to use my ability.”

  “Thank you,” he says. Then his brows furrow. “If this Dream Girl is responsible for sending you dreams and showing you my death, how and why did you see Lauren?”

  I frown, still haunted by what happened. “I don’t think the Dream Girl had anything to do with that. Her memories are meant to help me—build trust between us by showing me the truth. But what I experienced with Lauren . . . there was nothing good about it.”

  “If this was a vision, then how in the world did it burn your legs like that?”

  My frown deepens, knowing this will upset him further. “Since my dreams with the Dream Girl have broken, any time something bad happens in a vision, it happens to me too.”

  His eyes widen. “Tell me there’s a way to stop you from dreaming. Please.”

  “The Dream Girl is trying to stop the dreams. She says there are only a few left, though.”

  “I don’t care. I can’t stand seeing you get hurt like this, Maddy. It’s crushing me.”

  My heart twists in agony, hating what these visions do to both of us. What I see and feel is horrible, but MJ is forced to sit by and watch me go through it. He feels the pain when he heals me—including my emotional aftermath. I wish I could stop these dreams, but I can’t. I have no control over them, just as I no longer have control over a lot of things.

  “I’ll find a way,” he says. “I promise.”

  I meet his gaze and offer a weak smile, knowing he can’t.

  “Has the Dream Girl helped you other times?” he asks.

  “Yes.”

  “When?”

  “The day I met you.”

  His eyes drift as he thinks back to that day. Suddenly his eyes brighten.

  “She created the windstorm, didn’t she?”

  I nod.

  He pauses. “Do you trust her?”

  “I don’t fully trust anyone, MJ.”

  He looks away, but not before I see his eyes dim. He knows that includes him.

  “I’m sorry if that hurts,” I say, “but I want to be honest with you. Regardless of how I feel about you, we met six days ago. We can’t expect to know everything about each other in that amount of time. Certain pieces of ourselves are still in the dark for one reason or another. Besides, if we did know everything about each other, what would we talk about for the rest of our life?”

  Suddenly, he grins, his arms curling around me, holding me closer to his chest. “There’s plenty to do when we run out of things to talk about . . .”

  In a blur, MJ pulls me to my feet, then kisses me. Just as earlier, he holds his essence back, but that’s where the similarities end. His lips move furiously against mine. He’s always been so gentle, but this . . . this is a rough, needy, desperate kind of kiss that makes my toes curl.

  He bends me backward, curving over me. His tongue slides into my mouth. I just . . . give in to the bliss. I feel him everywhere—his body pressed against mine and his hands exploring my back.

  My heart pounds. He must feel it against him. Heat consumes me, but I want to be devoured by this blaze.

  My hands move into his hair, curling, yanking, desperate to find some way to pull him closer. It’s no longer a question of want. I need him. I need him more than I need sunlight, water, air.

  This amazing, powerful, sensual kiss is my new addiction. Whatever I did to make him kiss me like this, I want to do it over and over and over again.

  Our kiss ends, and I snuggle closer, knowing our time here won’t last forever. His essence resumes flowing through me. My mind quiets, and a content smile crosses my face. I don’t know if he removed all my troubles or just shoved them into places out of reach, but for the moment, I don’t care.

  “Thank you for everything today,” I say. “I’m sure healing me wasn’t easy—nor was hearing the truth about my dreams. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “You’ll never have to find out. I’m never letting you go.”

  “After everything that’s happened lately, I don’t want you to.”

  “Good. There are millions of angels like me and only one of you.”

  My heart flutters, and again I’m in awe of how easy and right it feels to be with him. Despite our secrets and despite our differences, we keep coming back to moments like this—where everything is perfect. And it only exists because we’re together.

  No matter what happens next, no matter who tries to take me from him, I have to keep fighting. I have to fight for myself. For him. For us. I will not let anything take this from me.

  With all the positivity flowing through me, I want the conversation to stay light and airy. I want to joke around, as we did when we went bowling. MJ was more human than I’ve seen him any other time we’ve been together. Maybe a bit of his mortal personality was coming through. I want to know more about MJ instead of Protector MJ.

  “Hmm . . . ” I begin. “A million MJs. I like the sound of that.”

  I feel his cheek move against the top of my head. “I don’t know.” His voice lightens, and I suspect he’s smiling. “I’m not sure I could share you, even with someone extremely good-looking.”

  I snort.

  “I hope that was in reaction to my possessiveness and not a critique of my looks.”

  “Actually, it was about your looks. Specifically that ‘extremely good-looking’ is an inadequate modifier.”

  “Well, then. Someone’s been paying attention in English class.”

  “Hardly. My friends all say you’re ‘hot,’ but that’s not good enough. I’ve been trying to come up with something better.”

  “And what have you come up with?”

 
; “I’ve found many words that I thought were perfect, then I’d see you again and realize they didn’t fit. I finally came to the conclusion that since you aren’t technically mortal, no mortal word would ever work for you. It was a very freeing realization. Plus, why rack my brains for words to describe you when it’s way more fun to just sit back and admire the pretty?”

  “The pretty?”

  I throw my arms around his neck. “My pretty.”

  “Um, let’s not call me that around Alexander. That would make for a very long eternity.”

  I smirk, liking how they tease each other. “Deal. Where is he, anyway? And Tamitha?”

  He tenses against me, and his essence flowing through me suddenly jerks. “I’m not sure. Hang on.”

  MJ pulls back his essence and lets me go. I lean against the railing, watching him. His eyes are closed, and his face is relaxed.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  “I’m reaching out to Alexander.”

  “What does that mean?”

  The corners of his mouth twitch as he fights a smile. “I’m using something we call Cerebrallink to search out his essence and communicate with him.”

  So they can communicate nonverbally with each other? Maybe that explains how Damien talked to Elizabeth in her mind. And this must have been what Alexander was doing in the parking lot after school before my “surprise.”

  All of a sudden, MJ stiffens as if a jolt of electricity went through him. He opens his eyes, and they’re darker. A ridge appears between his brows.

  I reach out for him, placing my hand on his arm. “MJ, what’s wrong? What did Alexander say?”

  He frowns before placing a swift kiss on my forehead. “Let’s get you home. Your parents will be making dinner soon.”

  I cross my arms. “Tell me what he said,” I demand.

  He rubs his neck and meets my gaze. We stay there, silently staring at each other.

  Then he says, “The demon serial killer claimed another victim today.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Maddy

  Seeing MJ so upset has me aching to comfort him. I place my hand in his, and silently we walk back to my house.

  When we turn the corner of my block, we both freeze on the sidewalk. In front of my house sit two black Suburbans.

  Duane.

  MJ’s essence flows faster through our joined hands. He knows me well enough to soothe me even before my body can react to something upsetting like this. Still, essence or no essence, I’m consumed with figuring out why Uncle Duane would be here.

  Apparently MJ is thinking the same thing. His eyes narrow, fixating on the vehicles.

  The last time MJ and Duane were together, Duane told him to stay away from me. MJ listened for as long as either of us could stand, which was less than a day.

  Duane has always been very protective of me, but it was more than that. He knows about MJ and Justin somehow. He also knows MJ is working the same serial killer case he and his FBI team are working. I believe that case is the reason behind his warning to MJ. I just hope Duane doesn’t know the full extent of it—that the killer is actually a demon.

  And I know there’s no way in hell I’ll let Duane send MJ or the other angels away.

  “Come on,” I say, tugging his arm. “Let’s get this over with.”

  He pulls back, stopping me with ease. His free hand caresses my cheek, and I lean into his touch.

  “I think I should be in the Veil of Shadows. At least until we figure out why he’s here.”

  I picture walking into the house to face everything alone. It would certainly prevent a testosterone showdown between Duane and MJ and their differing opinions on my safety.

  But I don’t want to go in there alone. I’m not afraid, but I am nervous. I’m about to do something I’ve never done before. I’m introducing my boyfriend to my extended family. It’s a huge step for me. The other night at dinner, my parents got a glimpse of how serious we are. But introducing him to Duane as more than my friend is on a whole other level. An it’s-a-good-thing-he’s-already-dead-’cuz-Duane-might-kill-him level.

  I wrap my free arm around his waist and rest my head on his chest, right where his silent heart sits.

  “You’re coming with me, MJ. You’re in my life now, and I’m not ashamed of that. Sooner or later, Duane will find out about us, and I’d rather it come from us. This way, he’ll know just how important you are to me.”

  “Maddy, I don’t know if—”

  “You’re mine. No one can send you away from me ever again, and that includes my family.”

  I reach up, stroking his cheek as he did mine.

  His eyes close, and I hear a sound like the kind Hannah makes when she takes that first bite of her favorite triple-chocolate-brownie ice cream. When his eyes reopen, there is this look to them, as if he wants to kiss me or do something else. My stomach flips while muscles clench all over my body.

  “I don’t want anything to take you from me either,” he says in a throaty voice. He stares down at me, then the pain and fear return to his eyes.

  I know what he’s feeling. The fear I felt when Duane first sent MJ away was crippling, and I barely knew MJ then. What MJ is going through is worse. I’ve been taken from him three times now. I can’t imagine how helpless he feels. And now Duane is here, and neither of us knows why.

  I throw my arms tighter around him, wanting to erase the space between us. “I’m sorry, MJ. I wish I could stop what’s happening to me and stay with you always.”

  He inhales sharply at my words, then smiles and leans back. “I have something for you.”

  Before I can speak, one of his hands falls away from my back. A moment later, it curls around my right wrist, attaching something thin and cool.

  I pull my wrist closer, inspecting the foreign object. It’s a bracelet with multicolored stones that reflect the evening sunlight. There are twelve of them, each one a different shape and color. They’re birthstones. Topaz, emerald, ruby, sapphire—and my heart stops at the sight of the clear gem.

  “These are fake, right?”

  He shakes his head.

  All of the stones are huge. They’re bigger than anything in my mother’s jewelry collection, and she’s been married forever. They’re almost as big as the stones on the necklace Damien gave Elizabeth. The biggest is a flawless, brilliantly clear diamond.

  “I know your birthday isn’t for another week, but I want to give this to you now. I had this created for you while I was in Immortal City.”

  Not only are the stones real, but they’re from Heaven.

  “A-are there a lot of these up . . . there?”

  “No. Yours is the only one in existence.”

  “Why?” I ask. “Why are you giving me this?”

  “I want to give it to you before something else happens.”

  He smiles, but there’s something behind his expression. It’s that same fear I saw in his eyes a moment ago. I can’t help but think there’s more to this gift than he’s telling me.

  I stare down at the bracelet. It’s heavy, as if it were pushing my arm to the sidewalk. It’s heavy with the weight of what it means to him, me, us, my family, and the world.

  Walking into the house holding his hand was going to be a huge step. But this—accepting and wearing such an elaborate, priceless gift from him? This goes beyond dating and getting to know each other. This makes it real. Finite. And not just to me, but the world too. I’m not ready for this, to be so far committed in our relationship that I’m now wearing one-of-a-kind jewelry from Heaven.

  I haven’t even said “I love you” yet.

  “Do you like it?” he asks.

  I hate it, but I can’t tell him that. I hate how confused it makes me. I hate that it would hurt him if I told him the truth. And I hate that it represents the one thing I can’t give him—love.

  Everything about this damn bracelet screams out how much he loves me. Yet I can’t show him or even say those three little words. This brac
elet is nothing but a physical reminder that I don’t deserve him.

  “MJ . . .” I say. “I don’t know if I’m ready for this. It’s too fast. Too soon. I—I can’t.” I shake my head. “You have to just give me more time.”

  “Please wear it,” he begs. “Do it for me.”

  Muscles tighten all over my body and my stomach rolls, threatening to vomit. I feel his eyes on me. He isn’t touching me, and that’s a blessing. That way he won’t know how truly terrified I am of the priceless white-gold-and-gemstone bracelet. Terrified of all it symbolizes.

  A sudden gust of wind blows stray hairs in my face, disrupting my trance-like stare at my now-unfamiliar wrist. With great effort, I look up. The sky is a wall of gray. Power lines whip through the air, enslaved to a turbulent storm. Trees groan as the wind bends them so far over, their branches touch the ground. Shingles flap on rooftops, as if clinging to the houses for dear life.

  I turn to MJ, but he looks away, turning his face into the wind. He knows what this is—this is my storm. And it speaks louder than words.

  I close my eyes and concentrate on my breathing. I focus on silencing the fear that caused this storm inside and out. I shove those overwhelming emotions down into a place so dark even MJ won’t run across them when we touch.

  When I reopen my eyes, the breeze is gone, trees are still. No sound other than my breath can be heard. It’s as if the world stopped. MJ still won’t meet my eyes.

  I don’t want to hurt MJ. But I can’t accept this. I need more time to figure out a way to give it back without breaking his heart.

  I grab his hand, start walking toward the house, and prepare to meet our next challenge—together.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  MJ

  I thought she was going to create another tornado—the wind was strong enough. Animals scurried for cover. Trees groaned, helpless as the wind bent them to its liking. Then just as quickly as it started, the world fell silent.

  It’s mystifying and frightening that she holds this much power, especially because it’s effortless for her. If she keeps doing things like this, Mankato will be swarming with enemies from both sides in a matter of days. Like it or not, she needs to wear the Segrego bracelet—it’s our only warning against a demon attack.