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  “You didn’t need to know that,” he says, climbing to his feet. “You didn’t need to worry.”

  I throw my hands in the air as the sky erupts again—unleashing my rage. “Don’t you get it? I’m the—”

  The words won’t leave my lips. It’s as if they were glued there. No matter what I do, they won’t come.

  Then I remember why.

  The masked demon compelled me. I can’t tell MJ the truth. Plus, Duane says he’ll take me away if I speak a word of being adopted. I just got my family back. I’m not ready to lose them. Not again.

  Frustrated, I turn away and grip the railing.

  MJ leans on the railing beside me. “There are hundreds of girls your age who fit that description. The demon is targeting a very specific, small group of them. You aren’t part of that. I know you’re not.”

  “You’re not only lying to me—you’re lying to yourself!” That much, at least, I can say.

  “I’m not lying,” he says. “I don’t lie to you.”

  I scoff. “You looked into my eyes after the vision of Lauren. You knew who she was and what it meant. And you said nothing. None of you did,” I say, shooting my glare in Alexander’s direction. “Do you have any idea what it was like to see those photos down there and learn you hid all that from me?”

  He opens his mouth, but I hold up my hand.

  “No. I don’t want to hear your excuses. I don’t want to see you tonight—and I don’t mean you can just watch me from the Veil of Shadows. I’m so done with all of this. I need normal right now.”

  Immediately I scowl at my own words. Normal is the one thing I can’t be. I’ve never been normal, never will be. I realize that now more than ever.

  “If you don’t want me near you, I won’t press it,” he says, obviously struggling. “But I can’t leave you alone. It isn’t safe. Justin is still after you.”

  A maniacal laugh bursts out of me. “You still think Justin is my biggest problem?” I shake my head, wishing that were true. Justin may be evil and dangerous, but the monster that’s hunting me makes Justin seem like nothing more than a nuisance.

  “Fine,” I say and shrug. “Send someone to watch me if you must. But have them stay hidden. As far as I’m concerned, you’re all liars.”

  I walk past them, thankful neither one tries to stop me. So many emotions burst inside me I fear I might explode. I’m panting, trying to calm down, but it’s no use.

  As I reach the path, I hear them following behind me again. I bite my cheeks, trying to ignore them.

  How long was he going to wait before telling me everything he knows about this demon and the targets? Were they all going to act as if nothing changed after Lauren? Just keep me in the dark?

  If I had known . . . if I had figured it out sooner, maybe I could have stopped it.

  I’m strong. I survived Justin, and with some training, I can survive this demon as well.

  I stop and hear them stop too. I whip around to face them. They’re maybe five feet away, though MJ is ahead of Alexander by just a few steps.

  “I know why you don’t like Duane,” I begin. “He told me that too. But I want you to remember something. If it weren’t for him and his support over the years, I never would have made it out of Justin’s house. Duane has spent two weeks every summer teaching me how to protect myself. Because of him, I was able to break free from my restraints and get Hannah free from hers.”

  I raise my hand and point at him. “All you’ve done is taught me to be a coward. Do you want me to die? Do you want Justin to force me to sign that contract? Do you want me to be helpless just so you can come save me and fight my battles? Cause that’s all your actions are showing so far.”

  He stands there silent while the sky echoes my frustrations.

  I look up, focusing on the flashes of lightning and roars of thunder, synchronizing my breathing to them. Slowly, I tame them. But like my emotions, they’re not gone.

  “How could you think that?” he asks so quietly I can barely hear him. “I . . . You’re everything to me. Everything I do is to keep you safe. I’m nothing without you.”

  I know he means it. It’s in his voice, in his eyes filling with tears, and in his body that leans toward me—trying to close the distance that’s never existed between us before now.

  Can I be without him? Can I save those girls—and myself—on my own? I don’t know. But if he refuses to help me, then I have to try on my own. I owe the girls that much—and more.

  “I’m going home,” I tell him. “Hopefully, tomorrow you’ll come to your senses and start telling me the things I need to know.”

  “Maddy, please,” he begs, stepping toward me.

  I can’t let him touch me. He can’t know just how much he’s hurt me and how unstable I am.

  He reaches out for me. My eyes widen and my heart pounds.

  “No!” I scream, releasing everything I’ve tried to hold back.

  The sky erupts in deafening crashes of thunder and blinding flashes of lightning. The ground shakes. I’m thrown onto my side.

  I lay in the grass, unable to hear anything but a high-pitched whining in my ears. I sit up enough to see a giant oak now across the path—right where MJ stood.

  I call out for him, but with the ringing I can’t tell if I’m whispering or yelling.

  And I don’t hear a reply.

  I can’t breathe. Please let him be okay. I may be angry and hurt, but I still love him.

  I crawl to the fallen tree and grab onto a branch to pull myself up. As I clear the trunk, I see them.

  MJ and Alexander are on their backs looking at the tree. With the way Alexander’s hands are gripping MJ’s shirt, I think he pulled him out of the way.

  I scan over MJ, breathing again when I see he’s unharmed. Alexander is fine too.

  Their eyes shift to me. They both stare with creased brows and slack jaws. Alexander, I think, is in shock.

  MJ’s expression is similar, but there’s something more to it. He shakes his head, slowly at first, then it gains speed.

  He stands, but he’s shaky. He takes a step back.

  With that simple movement, the world falls out from underneath me.

  He’s afraid of me.

  He looks at the tree, then at me. I follow his wide eyes, tracing the fallen tree back to where its splintered stump sits on the other side of the creek. It’s blackened by something.

  Lightning.

  I did this. I snapped the tree, which fell where MJ stood.

  I tried to hurt him.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Maddy

  My hand shakes as I place MJ’s bracelet on my dresser, knowing we’re over. I want to take it all back, but I can’t. He will never forget what I said and what I tried to do.

  Even though I’d worn the bracelet for only three hours, my bare wrist looks foreign without the jeweled symbol of his love.

  It’s stupid how gutted I feel. I should be scared or angry or bawling my eyes out while listening to Adele, but there’s nothing. I’m numb. I have no desire to do anything.

  Everything was perfect before MJ gave me the bracelet—or as perfect as it could be for us. Now everything is in shambles. This can’t be happening. It doesn’t feel real. This feels as if I were dreaming about some other version of me.

  I shake my head. There are other versions of me. Twelve of them. And eight of them have been murdered. They died for me. And instead of vindicating them, I’m whining about breaking up with my otherworldly boyfriend I’ve dated for about two days.

  Those girls should be my focus. I need to dedicate my time, strength, and energy to saving the four girls remaining. Duane and the “others” may be willing to sacrifice them, but I’m not.

  I’m not that evil.

  Someone knocks on my door.

  Not trusting my voice, I walk over and slowly open it.

  Duane stands in the hallway—one hand resting at his side, the other scratching his head.

  I tense.
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  My mind races through everything I said with MJ, hoping Duane isn’t going to take me away already.

  “I’m sorry, Maddy. I know you need some time alone, but some detectives are here to speak with you. Now that you know what I am, I could send them away, if you wish.”

  My pain is shoved aside. He isn’t here for that. I’m okay. But wait—what detectives?

  “Why do detectives want to talk to me?”

  He grimaces. “They’re investigating Ben’s ‘disappearance.’”

  I stumble, catching myself on the dresser next to the door. “What do I say to them? A demon killed Ben. Tons of people saw them together.”

  “Remember, the detectives and everyone else believe Ben is simply missing. Justin has been removed from everyone’s minds. He will not come up. I’ll be in the room with you. It’ll be fine. I promise.” He smiles, willing me to believe him.

  I can’t. Not yet. Not after how long he lied to me. I don’t know how to believe anything anyone tells me right now.

  Instead of answering, I head downstairs with him following close behind me.

  Is this how it’s going to be from now on—Duane monitoring my every move too?

  The kitchen is packed with my parents, Duane’s FBI agents, Anne in her police uniform, and two men dressed in suits who must be the detectives.

  A Protector is probably in the Veil of Shadows too. Whoever MJ sent in his place.

  Hell is watching too.

  The gang’s all here.

  “Madison,” Anne says.

  Her face is hardened—as it usually is when she’s working. But her eyes are sad. She’s struggling, so much more than Sunday night, to distance herself personally so she can be professional.

  “These are Detectives Baker and King. They’ve come up from Saint Petersburg, Florida. They’d like to ask you some questions, if that’s okay.”

  I nod.

  Mom leads us to the dining room. I sit between her and Dad. Under the table, they each clasp one of my hands.

  That one simple motion was everything I didn’t know I needed. I stare up at the light, fighting the urge to cry. Mom and Dad are here for me, no matter what. No one can take this moment from me. No matter what, right now, we’re a family.

  Anne sits at the head of the table. Duane takes a seat at the other end. His agents stand behind him. Detectives Baker and King sit across from me. Baker is younger and more slender than his counterpart. He holds a pen ready at a notepad.

  King has to be close to retiring. From what I know of police work from Anne, I have no doubt he’s seen some horrible things in his years on the force, yet he’s watching me with kind eyes—much like those of an uncle.

  My gaze flits to Duane, and a twinge lashes my heart. Even though he kept that huge of a secret from me, I’m not sure I can hate him. He’s why I’m still alive. Everything he did—however twisted it was—was out of love for me.

  Detective King clears his throat. “Madison,” he begins, “could you tell us how you know Benjamin Wolters?”

  I swallow, hoping my voice will steady. Mom squeezes my hand.

  “He was my boyfriend.”

  The detectives glance at each other, then King asks, “What do you mean was?”

  “We broke up Saturday.”

  King leans forward as his kind eyes brighten. “So you saw him Saturday?”

  The hope in his eyes that he might, finally, have a lead to find Ben has me holding back a sob. No one will ever find him. Even in death, MJ can’t find him.

  “No,” I say. “We broke up over the phone.”

  His shoulders drop as his eyes dim. “When was the last time you saw him?” he asks, his voice now flat.

  “A few weeks ago—the weekend of the college homecoming.”

  I don’t mean to lead the detectives on or give them false hope. But even though I know it’s pointless, I want them to look for Ben. I don’t want the world to just move on and forget about him.

  Detective Baker scribbles something in his notepad while King continues, “And when did you last speak with him?”

  The words Ben whispered while dying on Justin’s floor haunt me. I hold back a shudder and lie. “Saturday when we broke up.”

  “You haven’t called or texted him since?”

  I shake my head, wishing I could hear his voice again.

  “Are you sure?” King pushes.

  “She already answered that question,” Duane replies.

  “Yes, but here’s my problem,” King says. “We have his phone records, and they show he received a call from you on Sunday that lasted five minutes.”

  Baker looks up from the notepad, smirking at me. They think they’ve caught me in a lie.

  My cell was dead most of Sunday. I know I didn’t talk to Ben. But am I “supposed” to remember that? Is that a part of everyone else’s new memories?

  “Was that from my cell or the home phone? And what time was the call?” I ask.

  King arches a bushy brow while Baker flips back through his notepad. He rattles off our home number, then says, “And the call was at five thirty-eight in the evening.”

  If that’s true, I was sleeping in MJ’s truck then. That should still exist in everyone’s minds.

  “I didn’t get home until almost midnight that evening. So it proves I didn’t call him.”

  Anne nods knowingly at the detectives.

  “Well,” King says, he and Baker looking right at me, “then who did? It was a five-minute call.”

  Mom takes a sharp inhale. “I called him.”

  The detectives move their steely gazes on her. I look at her in surprise myself.

  “Maddy was . . . well, there was an incident Sunday. The one that kept Maddy out until midnight. Earlier in the evening, I called Ben to see if he had talked with her,” Mom explains.

  Anne reaches over, placing a hand on Detective Baker’s arm. “I told you what took place that night.”

  I shrink down in my chair. My head pounds, beating out a phrase over and over again—my fault.

  Baker clicks his pen several times.

  I look up to find him staring at me.

  “How come you haven’t asked what our investigation is about?” he asks.

  My mouth opens, but nothing comes out.

  “I told her Ben was missing when I went to get her from her room,” Duane says. “As an FBI agent familiar with investigative questioning such as this, I figured I would give her a moment to digest the news in private.”

  The detectives stare at Duane, seemingly bothered by him stepping in.

  “Madison,” King says in a gentler tone, the kindness showing again in his eyes, “how close are you and Benjamin?”

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  “You’re a junior in high school. He’s a college graduate. Some people might look at your relationship and think he was taking advantage of you. Did he take advantage of you?”

  “Excuse me,” Dad says. “But I think—”

  “How dare you,” I say to the detective, cutting Dad off. I want to reply to this myself. “Ben was an amazing boyfriend. If anything, I took advantage of him. I took him for granted. He was always there for me. Always treated me with respect. Yet I never truly let him in. And now it’s too late. I can never make it right. I can never ask him to forgive me.”

  Tears well up. I leave the table, hugging myself as I stare out the dining room window.

  “That’s enough questioning,” Dad says.

  “I agree. She’s not a suspect,” Duane adds. “She answered your questions, and now it’s time you leave.”

  Mom walks over and places her hand on my shoulder. I rest my head on it.

  “Don’t give up hope, honey. They’ll find him.”

  I nod only because she expects me to.

  “She’s right,” Detective King says as he stands. “We’re closing in. We found his car in Atlanta, Georgia, this morning. We have people working around the clock to find him.”

  Ann
e says good-bye, then ushers the detectives out with her. Mom, Dad, Duane, and his agents linger in the dining room, but I can’t. I don’t want to talk to them. I can’t talk to them. Silently, I head upstairs with their gazes following me.

  I walk to my closet, not knowing why, then I look down and see my baby blanket. My mind scans through the massive amount of information I’ve learned today, and it lands on my birth parents.

  My birth parents are dead.

  They died the day I was born. Pain constricts my already broken heart. Loss and guilt ripple through me. I’ve hated them for so long and blamed them for so much, but none of it was their fault. They wanted me. They loved me. But they died. Did they even get to hold me?

  I grab the blanket—needing a way to feel closer to them.

  I curl up on my bed and wrap the blanket around me. My fingers trace along the cursive letters that spell “Madison Rose” in the silk border, recognizing the love put into every stitch. My body shakes, but the tears won’t come.

  I’m sorry for the years I spent hating them. Someday, perhaps soon, I will see them and I can apologize for the horrible way I’ve acted. Hopefully I can save the girls and finally make them proud that I was their daughter.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  MJ

  I stand in the Veil of Shadows beside Tamitha and Alexander, staring at my bracelet on her dresser, then at Maddy resting on her bed. I wanted to help her downstairs—comfort her through the detectives’ questions—but I held back.

  I thought she was just acting out of anger when she said those things at the park—Father knows I deserved it all. But taking off my bracelet says she means it. She doesn’t want to be with me anymore. The Shadowwalker was right. I screwed up. I pushed too hard and broke my miracle.

  “MJ,” Tamitha says, “she’s overwhelmed. That’s all. Put yourself in her shoes. Look at everything she’s had to deal with over the last week.”

  She’s right, of course. Maddy has faced more in one week than some of us face in our entire term as Protectors.

  “How do I fix this? I need her, Tamitha.”