I had the strangest dream. A little girl, probably three, maybe four, was strapped to a chair, a plain but elegant woman sitting at her side, holding her hand. The woman had such a slender bone structure she looked like some kind of fairy princess from a storybook. She had wavy, shoulder-length hair the color of wheat and eyes so pale they were freaky.

I’d seen those eyes before. Many times before.

Like, every time I’d looked in a mirror.

They were rare. And yet, the little girl had those eyes, too.

Were they mother and daughter? Relatives I’d never met?

It was possible, I supposed. But why was I dreaming about them?

And why was I assuming this was real, just because it felt that way? Dreams were just that. Dreams. They weren’t fact.

“Don’t worry,” the woman said with a quaver. “Once they finish, I’ll take you home and make your favorite cookies.”

“I want to go home now. I don’t care about cookies.”

“I know you want to go, sweetie, I know. But you can’t. Not yet. This is necessary.”

“Why?” Tears fell in earnest. “They hurt me, Momma.”

The mother began to cry, as well. “You’re such a special little girl. You can do things no one else can. Through you, they can help other people. Save other people.”

They? Who were they?

“—not leaving her.” Nana’s voice registered, as did her concern.

The dream vanished in a puff of smoke.

I tried to open my eyes, didn’t have the strength. Lethargy made my skull feel as if it had been hollowed out and stuffed with boulders.

“You are.”

Mr. Holland’s voice now. He said something else, but a high-pitched ring invaded my ears, distorting the rest of the conversation. “—bry mand take see.”

“Moo bought I cast soon loo.”

I bit the side of my tongue, tasted the copper tang of blood. The ensuing pain must have set off a chemical reaction, releasing all kinds of goodies, because I received the boost I needed. The ringing faded, and tendrils of strength wound through me.

“—at war right now, and that makes you a target. Ali won’t be the fighter I know she can be, needs to be, if she’s worried about you.” Mr. Holland possessed the same iron-hard determination as his son, making the words sound as though they’d been chiseled from ice. “You’re going and that’s final.”

I cracked open my eyelids, then blinked rapidly to clear the blur. Meanwhile, memories banged at the door of my mind, demanding entrance. Before I could decide whether to accept or decline, the door splintered and I was bombarded. Cole, shot. Gavin, missing. Kat and Reeve, sedated. Trina and Lucas—

No.

No!

But there was no erasing the knowledge. They were dead. Shot and killed. Gone forever.

My mind shied away from the devastation. I couldn’t allow myself to grieve. Not now. Later, though...

Yes, later.

Right now, it was time to start compartmentalizing again. Nine of my friends were out there, targets to the madmen running Anima, and they had to be found.

Moaning, I sat up. Dizziness struck, as if it had been waiting for me.

Another memory took root. I’d broken down and cried. Mr. Ankh had approached my side and, while cooing comforting words at me, withdrew a syringe from his pocket and injected me with something. A sedative, I thought now, my jaw clenching with irritation.

“Easy, dear.” The sweet scent of Nana’s perfume teased me as a gentle arm wrapped around my shoulders to keep me upright.

My hands quaked as I rubbed my gritty eyes. The dizziness faded, the room and the people in it coming into perfect view. Nana, with her black bob brushed and gleaming, her nightgown replaced by an oversize T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. Mr. Holland, standing beside her, his face cleaned and bandaged.

Beyond them, Kat and Reeve paced inside a small room surrounded by glass. Probably two-way mirrors. I met Kat’s gaze, but she looked away, as if she had no idea I was there.

“Are they confined?” I asked, and a second later Reeve beat at one of the walls.

“Yes. Frosty and Bronx have yet to be found, and the girls are determined to hunt them,” Mr. Holland said. “They tried to sneak out.”

Of course they did. “Release them,” I commanded. “Now. Kat’s not even a target. We can send her home.” Where she’d stay safe.

He gave a single shake of his head. “She is Frosty’s biggest weakness and one of yours. Of course she’s a target. And we both know she won’t go home. She’ll go after her boyfriend, no matter what we tell her. Reeve, too. And while both girls have had some training in self-defense, they aren’t ready for an all-out war, which is exactly what they’ll get. They stay.”

Stay, yes, I conceded. Locked away? No. But we’d come back to that. “Where’s Cole?”

Nana squeezed me tight. “Don’t you worry about him. He’s doing well. Better than any of us expected. Ankh hauled him to the house to feed him.”

Relief was, oh, so sweet. “So it’s safe to go back?”

“Safer by the minute,” Mr. Holland said with a nod. “When Ankh isn’t playing doctor, he’s working on the security. As soon as he’s satisfied there are no other hidden vulnerabilities, we’ll be able to go in and out the front door. Until then, we are to sneak through the tunnel.”

“What about the other slayers?”

The vim and vigor seeped out of him, and his shoulders slumped. He looked away from me, no longer able to hold my gaze. “We don’t know where they are.”

But he knew something. He just didn’t want to tell me what it was. Hands beginning to sweat, I said, “Text them. Tell them to come here and—”

“I want to,” he interjected with a shake of his head, “but I won’t. Anima could have their phones.”

He was right. Dang it!

He scrubbed his fingers through his hair. “Every news station has been running a story about last night’s eruption of ‘gang violence.’ They claim Cole is the leader of one gang, and his rival, a street thug named River Marks, decided to get rid of him and his crew.”

“Wait. How did they know Cole was any kind of leader?” And did the police know I’d shot and killed someone in his home?

I sucked in a fiery breath. Oh, glory, I’d shot and killed someone.

Compartmentalize.

“No.” Mr. Holland’s features softened as he computed the direction my thoughts had taken. “I snuck back to the house this morning. Someone had come by and cleared away the, uh, collateral damage. The cops saw that the house was broken into, and Cole’s blood was on the wall, but nothing more.”

Anima had gone back, then.

“For now,” he added, “we lay low. We let Anima wonder who survived.”

And who didn’t, I finished for him, taking a few seconds to breathe. The problem with such a plan was that we had to wonder, too.

“Again,” I said, “I’m unsure how the police connected the dots to Cole. They should have just assumed he was a victim.”

Mr. Holland worked his jaw. “Apparently, a mysterious source called in the information.”

Mysterious. In other words, Anima.

Nana rested her head on my shoulder. “Tell her the rest, Tyler. Better it come from you than someone else.”

My heart dropped. “What is it?”

He closed his eyes, but not before I caught a flash of grief. “Cruz is... He’s dead, too. He was found in his bed, a bullet in his brain.”

No. No, no, no. Another friend lost. A beautiful life ended far too soon.

Compartmentalize!

“I’m going after the others,” I announced. They were out there. They were alive.

They had to be alive.

I was going to find them and bring them back.

Mr. Holland didn’t hesitate. He nodded, surprising me.

“I’m taking Kat and Reeve with me,” I added. They weren’t ready for war, no, but I couldn’t drive and search and defend myself and patch injured slayers.

Even superheroes needed sidekicks.

“God save me,” he muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face. “After what happened with Ethan, Ankh will never allow you to put Reeve in Anima’s path.”

Ethan. My hands curled into fists. Reeve had dated Ethan before she’d started dating Bronx. He’d secretly worked for Anima, gleaning her secrets, our secrets, and ultimately leading to her kidnapping and my torture.

“I hate to break it to you,” I announced, “but what you said about Kat is true of Reeve, as well. She’s already in their path. Whether she’s with me or not, she’s in danger.”

He flashed a quick smile. “Save the arguments for Ankh.”

Mr. Ankh, the world’s most stubborn male. And that was saying something, considering Cole was in the running. “I will.” Now, to circle back to the start of our conversation. “Free the girls. I’ll take them to the house, and the three of us will do whatever’s necessary to get through to boss-man.”

“Free them yourself.” He pulled a chain from around his neck, a key dangling at the end, and tossed it at me. “I just came from the house, and I’m not going back.” His gaze swung to Nana. “I’m taking your grandmother out of state. For her protection,” he added with more volume.

Ah. Their earlier fight suddenly made sense.

Nana morphed from calm to practically spewing fire in the snap of fingers. “I told you before, but I’ll tell you again, because you are obviously hard of hearing. I’m not going anywhere. Did you understand that time? Anywhere.”

We’d see about that, too.

I cupped her cheeks, and stared into dark eyes so like my mother’s and little sister’s—eyes that both broke me and made me stronger. “You must,” I said gently. “For me.”

Astonishment wafted from her. She shook her head, uttering one succinct word. “No.”

“These people are ruthless, Nana. They kidnapped me, tortured me, and when they finished with me, they would have killed me in the most painful way possible. Yesterday, they did kill three of my friends.” Hot tears suddenly streaked down my cheeks. “They must be destroyed.”

“But—”

I cut her off with a firm “I know these people. They won’t hesitate to hurt you to get to me. So please. Please! Go with Mr. Holland. Stay safe so that I can stay focused.”

A beat of silence...another...each crackling with tension.

“I will go with him,” she said, surprising me. Then she added, “But only if you’ll come with us.” I heard the despair in her tone. “My husband is dead. My daughter is dead. My only other grandchild is dead. I can’t lose you, too.”

Destroying me. “Nana. If I don’t do this, you’ll lose me anyway. I won’t be...me.” I’d been born for this. I wasn’t afraid. I was ready.

“At least let me try to protect you.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Mr. Holland pull a syringe from his pocket. Going to drug her like Mr. Ankh had drugged me? Oh, man. When she woke up, she would be tee-icked.

Worth it. I clasped her hands in mine. “I’m needed here,” I said, and she once again shook her head. “Only slayers can fight Anima and zombies. And you know we’ll be facing both.”

He gently struck.

Her eyes widened, and she gasped.

“Please understand,” I whispered, “and know that I’m truly sorry.”

“Ali...together...” Her lids closed, her head slumping forward. Her knees buckled.

Mr. Holland caught her before she hit the ground and cradled her against his chest.

“Stay with her,” I commanded, shoving a new wave of guilt in that mental box. “Take care of her. Guard her with your life.”

“I will.” His eyes were diamond-hard, cold and almost cruel. “I don’t want to go. I would be of help here. But I can’t fight the zombies. Plus, I’m out of practice, and you’re not, and I know Cole. I know he’d want your grandmother safe at any cost. Besides, I can work from the sidelines and text you anything I learn.”

“I won’t let anything happen to your son,” I replied softly.

He nodded, satisfied. “I’m not going to tell you where we’re going. It’ll be better if you don’t know.”

“Agreed.”

“This morning, I bought ten burner phones and gave them to Cole. He has my new number, and I have his. If anything happens, you call me.”

“You have my word.” I placed a soft kiss on Nana’s cheek and smoothed the hair from her brow. “Tell her I’ll call her at least once a day.”

He turned and stalked out of sight.

I missed her already.

I strode to the back room and unlocked the girls. The door was open only a crack when they bum-rushed me, pushing their way out. I stumbled backward as their gazes found me.

Reeve had been ready to fight, her hands balled into fists. Now she breathed a sigh of relief. “Ali. You’re all right.”

Kat had been ready to fight, as well, her eyes narrowed, her teeth bared in a fierce scowl. Her cheeks were paler than they’d been last night, the stress of the situation hell on her malformed kidneys.

“Ali!” she cried.

Before I could blink, the two were on me, hugging me, kissing my cheeks, crying on my shoulders.

“I’m so freaking scared,” Kat admitted. “This situation is so not cake. Mr. Ankh told us slayers were attacked last night, that Lucas and Trina... They were—” She gulped, unable to finish the sentence.

“I know,” I said, somehow speaking past my own trembling. I brought her hand to my cheek, needing to feel her skin against mine. She was here, and she was okay. “Cruz was... He was... He’s gone, too.”

Both girls tensed, and I knew they were wondering how many others had been taken from us...and how much loss we were going to suffer before this war ended.

“Have you seen Bronx?” Reeve asked.

“No. I’m sorry,” I replied, and her shoulders drooped. Then I gave her the comforting words Cole had given me. “He’s tough. He’s smart, and he’s been through hell and back and survived. This? This is nothing.”

“What about Frosty?” Kat said, shaking me. Her emotions were too much for her small figure to contain.

“I haven’t seen him, either,” I admitted. But if I knew the boys, and I did, they were frantic for news about their girls. They wouldn’t have gone far. “Don’t worry. We’ll find them.”

“Together,” she insisted. “Don’t try to send me home. I won’t go. I won’t! I’ve already called my dad, told him I’m spending the next few weeks with Reeve. Maybe even longer.”

Something wonderful about her father: he let her do anything she wanted.

“If you guys are in danger,” she continued, “I’m in danger, and I don’t want my dad caught up in it. Besides, if I stay, I can cancel my dialysis at the hospital and Mr. Ankh can do it here.”

I held up my hands, a gesture of acceptance. “I agree with you. Now let’s put on our big-girl panties and go convince Mr. Always Right that he’s seriously wrong.”

Chapter 5

IMPOSSIBLE?

ONLY IMPOSSIBLE-ISH!

Reeve drove a golf cart through the dark, damp tunnel, all the way to the basement of her mansion. A place we’d often referred to as “the dungeon.” I expected Cole to be there, lying atop one of the many gurneys, feasting on egg whites and turkey bacon—that was healthy, right?—but he wasn’t. I ignored my twinge of disappointment.

A fingerprint ID allowed Reeve through another door and into the house itself. On our feet now, Kat and I followed her up a flight of creaky stairs we’d traversed too many times to count. Usually, at the top, all vestiges of dungeon vanished, replaced by the luxuries of massive wealth. Rich mahogany-trimmed walls. Plush carpets probably woven by enchanted fairies. Glossy antique furniture. Not today. Graffiti decorated the walls in a collage of every color imaginable.

Somewhere, a rainbow was weeping.

There were rips and holes in the carpets, and several pieces of the furniture were in pieces.

Had Anima trashed the place to give credence to the supposed gang war?

Yeah. Probably. Just one more crime to add to their ever-growing list.

Reeve pressed a button on the intercom. “Daddy. Where are you?” she asked, an edge to her tone.

“My office, princess,” he returned, his voice weary. “Ali, Cole’s in your bedroom and he’s been asking for you. I suggest you visit him before I’m forced to restrain him.”

I gave Kat and Reeve a hug and said, “Don’t tell Mr. Ankh what we’re planning. I’ll lead the conversation after I’ve seen Cole.” I pulled away.

I think they nodded. I was moving down the hall already, too quickly to keep track.

I flew up another flight of stairs, darted down a hallway, snaked a corner and raced into the bedroom. Instant surge of relief. The other piece of my soul was propped against the bed’s headboard, embraced by fluffy white pillows. His skin had a healthy tint, and the violet eyes I so adored were no longer glazed with pain, but bright and alert. His left arm was in a sling and his right had IV tubing running through his vein. His chest was half-covered by bandages.

“Ali.” His gaze heated as it locked with mine, and I would have sworn the earth tilted.

A second later, my surroundings faded—

—and suddenly Cole was stalking down a narrow corridor. Blood trickled from his lip.

I was slung over his shoulder, my fists beating at his back, my knees digging into his torso. “Let go,” I demanded.

“Never again,” he countered.

“You keep saying that. What do you want with me? What do you want from me?” As if I didn’t know him, sometimes better than I knew myself.

“I want what I’ve always wanted. Everything—”

—as suddenly as it had begun, the vision ended.

Because the world was tilting. I was falling, hitting my knees.

“Ali!” Cole threw his legs over the side of the bed.

“Stay where you are or you’ll rip out your IV! I’m okay.” I stood, shaking off the momentary flash of dizziness that had taken me down. Lingering effects of the sedative, I was sure.

Cole didn’t listen. He made to rise. I rushed to his side, easing onto the mattress, pressing my hip against his and pushing him to his back. For now, I didn’t care about the vision. We’d seen it weeks before, and we would see it again. We’d figure it out then.

“You should be used to girls falling at your feet,” I said.

He cracked the barest hint of a smile. “I’d rather have one girl standing beside me.”

Sweet-talker. “How are you?”

He twined his fingers with mine, lifted our joined hands and kissed my knuckles. “I’m better now that you’re here.”

Six little words, and yet my heart swelled with love. Were all guys so open about their feelings? So willing to admit when they needed, when they wanted...when they had to have or else?

“How’s your recovery?” I asked.

“Better than it should be. Nearly burning me alive was a good call.”

I donned a haughty air. “Did you ever doubt it?”

“Only all night and a little this morning.”

“So hardly at all.”

He cracked another smile. “Last night I was getting weaker, so I performed the fire trick on myself. Charged me right up. But had it not been for you, I wouldn’t have known to do it.”

“So you owe me.”

“Exactly. I pay in kisses.”

“Good thing I accept that currency.” I adored this playful side of him—and hated knowing it wouldn’t last. “Have you been told about Trina, Lucas and Cruz?” I asked softly.

“Yeah.” He scoured his other hand over his face. “But that’s not all. The gym burned down.”

Horror sped through me at full throttle. “Bronx. Mackenzie. They were there.”

He gave a clipped nod. “The good news is, no bodies were found inside.”

Okay. Okay, then. They’d either gotten away or been captured. Just like all the others.

Stomach cramp.

“We haven’t heard from anyone. News stations have been blasting stories about the attacks, but besides Cruz, no other murders have been reported.” I paused, mentally preparing myself for a fight. “I’m taking Kat and Reeve, and we’re going on a hunt.”

He surprised me by giving another nod. “That’s great.” Of course, he just had to add, “I’m going with you,” which deflated me.

“You need to stay in your sickbed for at least a month, the way you made me stay in mine.” I’d been recovering from a stab wound—one he had given me.

Don’t worry. It wasn’t domestic abuse or anything. He hadn’t done it on purpose.

“Try to keep me here. I dare you,” he said, then winked. A challenge? “You’ll end up beside me.”

“Oh, no. Not that. Anything but that,” I responded with a mock shudder.

“Smarty.” He tweaked the end of my nose. “Even on my worst day, with both hands tied behind my back, and no gun, I can shoot better than you.”

“Maybe so,” I said, practically dripping sweetness. “But you have no control over your swords.”

His eyes narrowed. “Low blow, Miss Bell. Very low blow.”

“I thought so.” I fluffed my hair.

“Does Ankh know what you’re planning with his precious?”

“Not yet.”

“Are you actually going to ask him for permission?”

“Well, yeah.” The girls and I could leave without his knowledge, sure. I was good at sneaking. But he would panic and go looking for his daughter, maybe get himself killed. I didn’t need the added guilt.

“He won’t just say no,” Cole said. “He’ll try to sedate you and lock you up.”

Yeah. Probably. “I’ve seen his work firsthand. But I’m onto his tricks now.” He wouldn’t catch me off guard a second time. “He’s just going to have to trust me and stop trying to surround Reeve with bubble wrap.”

“I get where he’s coming from,” Cole said, everything about him softening. “To Ankh, she is a reason for getting up in the morning, and there’s nothing more important to him. Without her, he might as well just curl up and die. And that, Miss Bell, is exactly how I feel about you.”

Oh, glory. Nana had destroyed me with her declaration, but Cole...Cole was utterly slaying me....

“There’s a difference between you and Mr. Ankh,” I said with a soft smile. “You know I can defend myself, and you trust me to make smart decisions. Isn’t that right, Mr. Holland?” Eew. No way I’d use the name reserved for his father.

Backtrack. “Mr. Cole.”

He tugged on a lock of my hair. “That’s right. Therefore, I will girl up, as Kat likes to say, since that’s apparently better than manning up, and I will let you go—”

“Wait. You’ll let me?” I interjected with attitude.

“—without a fight,” he finished. “Besides, I wasn’t asking if I could come with you. I was telling you I’d be by your side.”

Le sigh. His determination was kicking up a fuss again. “What’s your blood pressure? Do you have a temperature? Are you even steady on your feet?”

He smiled and said, “Reason number thirteen. You always ask way too many questions.”

Of all the things I’d expected him to say, that didn’t even come close. He definitely had to be feverish. “That’s a reason you love me?”

“See? Another question. But yes, it is. It’s charming.”

Well, he was the only one who thought so. Other people found it off-putting. And that was being kind!

I leaned over and kissed his brow, careful not to brush against his injury, then pressed my brow into his. “Don’t think the fact that you avoided discussing your condition has escaped my notice. But I’ll let it slide...and I’ll let you come with me. As long as you stay in the car.”

“Let me?”

“Oh, good. Your ears are working.”

The softness faded from his expression, fierce protectiveness taking its place—as well as cold-blooded aggression.

The aggression wasn’t directed at me, I knew, but at Anima.

“Let’s play a little game I like to call Cole’s in Charge and Ali’s Not.”

“Pass! Played it before, hated every second.”

The flash of another grin. “You know I think you hung the moon, right?”

“Right. Just like I know you held the ladder and looked up my skirt.”

“But you’re not going to talk me out of this,” he continued. “So, go down, speak with Ankh. I’ll get dressed.”

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