Someone dangerous was out to get me.

That was the only thing I knew for certain. No matter how hard I tried to summon a name or visualize this faceless person, I got nothing. And apprehension crept into my soul.

It was Thorn’s idea to remove the basketball trophy, staplers, and other stolen stuff from my locker and leave them with the chair in the woods. Manny agreed right away, and I was so touched at their concern for me that I didn’t know how to thank them.

“No prob,” Manny said with a wicked grin. “Always happy to transport stolen goods for a friend.”

Despite everything else that could go wrong, nothing did. The substitute janitor never even saw us—although we spotted him sleeping in the teacher’s lounge. It was almost midnight by the time I reached home.

Lights glowed from within the house, a good sign Nona was still busy at her computer. When she closed in on a perfect match, she lived in another reality. If I interrupted her, she’d look at me like I was a stranger. She felt so guilty after this happened a few times that now she did most of her work late in the evening.

A flap of wings made me glance up. Caught in the glare from the porch light, a solitary bird glided low in a silent flight across the pasture. The bird circled over the barn, then swooped down and disappeared through an open barn window. Footsteps on gravel made me turn. In the dim light from the chicken coop, I could see a slim, muscular figure.

I hadn’t imagined it—Dominic had followed me.

Instead of being afraid, I was angry. It was bad enough someone was out to get me at school; I didn’t have to put up with this crap at home.

“Dominic!” I shouted. “You are such a jerk!”

He stopped by the barn and slowly turned toward me.

I strode over, fuming. “You followed me tonight.” I stabbed my finger at his chest. “Don’t deny it.”

“I won’t.” He faced me; his blue eyes were narrowed and far from friendly.

“Why’d you do it?”

“To help.”

“Help?” I snorted. “Like I believe that.”

“I don’t care what you believe,” he said with disgust. “I was wrong about you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“How could you let Nona down like this? Did you do it for the thrill? To show off to your friends?”

“Huh?” I scrunched my forehead. “Do what?”

“Steal.” He spat out the word.

“But I didn’t!”

“You had those things in your locker, then you hid them in the woods.”

His words slammed into me. “It’s not what you think.”

“What else can I think? I know what I saw.” Sadness hooded his eyes as he looked at me. Dagger shrieked from the loft, and Dominic turned and started toward the barn.

“Wait!” I called.

He paused. “Why should I?”

“Because we both care about Nona. I don’t owe you any answers, but I’ll tell you anyway.” I glanced at the soft light still shining from my grandmother’s office. “Only not out here.”

“Inside then.” He led me into the barn.

Bales of hay climbed to the ceiling on half of the large wood-floored building, and a cow mooed from one of the stalls lining the opposite wall. Dominic moved toward the staircase, flipping on a light that illuminated a flight of steep stairs. My heartbeat quickened as I climbed.

Entering Dominic’s private loft apartment felt like stepping into the enemy camp. I didn’t even like him, so it shouldn’t matter what he thought. Yet it did, and I felt compelled to set him straight.

As I stood uneasily on an old braided rug, Dagger fluttered on a wooden post by an open window. Except for some candles and crystals on a dresser, there were no photographs, books, or knick-knacks. There was little evidence of Dominic’s personality, as if he’d locked himself away in secrecy and hidden the key.

“Make it quick,” Dominic said sarcastically, mimicking my own bitchy tone of a few days earlier, when he was in my room.

“Someone put those things in my locker. I was framed.”

“Why would anyone do that?”

“I have no idea.” I sank into a chair. “I wish I did.”

“Can’t you figure it out?” he asked, pulling up a stool across from me. “With your powers?”

“Don’t you think I’ve tried? But I never can get visions about myself. It’s scary knowing someone hates me. If it happened at my last school, I’d understand. But people here don’t know about my … my abilities.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’ve only told Manny and Thorn.”

“And you trust them?”

“Yeah. Tonight they came through for me in a big way. But I’m not so sure about you.” I regarded him suspiciously. “How did you know I was at the school?”

“A friend told me.”

“Who? Not Penny-Love?”

He turned away and walked over to his falcon.

“Is it someone I know?”

“Maybe, but not exactly.”

“You’re not making any sense.” I studied him, trying to pick up on his aura, but his colors were as nondescript as his room. I concentrated on his energy.

The room faded out, and I was suddenly outside in a drizzling, icy rain that sliced into my skin. My stomach ached with a raw emptiness. Hunger. And when I looked down, I saw a shackle chained to my leg. No, not my leg. A scrawny young boy in bloody jeans. Rain whipped against his frail, battered body, and he huddled against a tree trunk. There was a hollow anguished sound, more animal than human, coming from the boy. So much pain, too much to bear.

As quickly as it came, the vision passed. I sucked in a breath and grabbed on to his dresser to steady my trembling legs.

“I’m so sorry,” was all I could say.

“What for?” he demanded. “Something just happened, didn’t it? What did you see?”

“A boy.” My heart ached. “Chained outside in the rain—like an animal. He was starving and cold and scared. And he—he was you.”

His expression hardened. “You don’t know anything.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No. It was a long time ago.”

“But the pain is still there.”

“Forget about it.” His brow furrowed. “Don’t waste sympathy on that boy—he survived.”

“Who—who did that to him, to you?”

“An uncle.” Dominic’s eyes glinted dangerously. “A sick person who felt powerful if he was beating on someone smaller than him. He eventually got what he deserved, and I realized I’d had more power than him all along.”

“What power? I know Nona invited you here because you have some sort of psychic ability.”

“I’m not psychic.”

“Then what are you?”

“A communicator—but not with ghosts or people.”

“What’s left?”

“Can’t you guess? Lillybelle warned me you were going out tonight.”

“My cat?”

“Yeah.” He slid his hand across Dagger’s silky feathers.

“You can communicate with—” it shouldn’t have shocked me, but it did.

“—with animals. Yeah, I can,” he said.