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Twelve

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We all agreed to meet at Sam’s house. I would gather up my notes—including the monster files I had created, and the guide. It was time for Sam to see what his dad wrote, just how involved he had been in the haven.

When I got back home, Mom was there, standing on the porch, arms crossed.

“And where did you run off to, Margaret?”

Uh oh.

“I had to go to school—to get part of the English project from Misty.” That was good—I’d go with that—

“Your dad called me. He wanted me to make sure you got home, and that you stayed home, until he could talk to both of us.”

“Mom—”

“Does this have to do with what you told me?”

I let out a sigh, my shoulders slumping. “Yes.”

To my surprise, Mom reached out and hugged me. Hard. My aching muscles complained, but I held on. Mom wasn’t as openly affectionate as Dad, but I always knew she loved me. She leaned back, met my eyes.

“I saw the articles on your desk.” Fabulous—I’d completely forgotten about those in my rush to get to Sam. “I always thought it was odd that everyone who had died in that fire was not a resident of Emmettsville.”

“What?” I hadn’t been able to find a list of names, anywhere. I found that strange, and more than a little disturbing, since most disasters like that always had a list. “How do you know?”

“Evelyn and I ran into each other not long after it happened. She was so upset; I asked her what was wrong.” I remembered what she’d told me earlier. It must have been hard, since they were no longer friends. “She just blurted it out, and started crying. I never got any more out of her. Then Drew showed up, giving me the evil eye. That was the last time I talked to her, but it stuck with me. I kept waiting for the papers to say something about it, but they never did.”

“That explains why I didn’t find anything.”

“Come inside, sweetheart. You look miserable.” Good to know I looked as bad as I felt.

“I’m supposed to meet everyone—”

“You are not going anywhere, Margaret.”

I knew better, but I argued anyway. “Mom—they’re expecting me. I have most of the information—”

“Then they can meet you here.”

I was really glad Mom had a good grip on me—my legs threatened to buckle in shock. “You—they—”

“Can meet you here. Yes, that’s exactly what I said. I would feel better, knowing you’re here, and I have a feeling your dad would want to be involved in the discussion.”

One of the reasons I wanted to meet at Sam’s was to keep them out of it. So much for that idea. “I’ll call Misty. She can spread the word.”

“And I will have some snacks ready for your friends. Please go up and change out of that—shirt, Margaret. You have company coming.”

I touched my thermal shirt, forgetting I still had it on. “Okay. Thanks, Mom.” I stood on tiptoe and kissed her cheek.

I limped up the stairs, every hurt shouting at me. Loud and painfully. By the time I got to my bedroom I just wanted to lie down. Instead, I peeled off my clothes, and dressed for comfort in an oversize sweater and soft, thick cotton sweatpants. I was about to attempt putting on some cozy socks when Misty bounded into the bedroom.

How did she do that? We had both landed in the same bushes—she should have been as sore as I was.

“Everyone got your message,” she said, grabbing the socks out of my hand and kneeling on the floor to help me with them. “They should be converging any time.”

“Thanks.”

“And I got our date for the English project. You’re not going to like it.”

“When?”

“We’re first—right after Christmas break.”

“Lovely.” Homework for the holidays. Misty tugged on my second sock. “Thanks again. I was working myself up to it.”

“You did get the worst of the bush incident, you know.” She looked up at me. “I landed in between the bushes, instead of in them.”

“That explains a lot. For a while I thought you had turned into She-Hulk.” We both smiled—and I felt that unfamiliar warmth again. Of sharing with a friend. I could get used to it.

The doorbell rang, and I heard Mom rushing to answer it. Misty pulled me to my feet. “Ready to change everything—again?”

I picked up the pile of articles and website printouts that had given me away to Mom. “I may be the only one ready for this.”

They were all in for some unpleasant surprises.

~ ~ ~

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Dad waited in the dining room, talking quietly with Candace. Jake stood next to her, arms crossed and a frown on his face. Sam leaned against the wall across the room, hands in his pockets, looking less exhausted than the last time I saw him.

He straightened when he noticed me, but he didn’t move from his self-imposed isolation. The reason squeezed my heart.

“Alex.” Dad moved to me, helped me to the nearest chair. “Jake and Candace were updating me. Sounds like we have a bit to talk over.”

I nodded, forcing myself not to feel guilty. I just learned most of what we were going to talk about today. It’s not like I hid it from him for months.

How did parents learn that guilt look? Did they take a class before their kids were born? Both of mine had it perfected—and had been using it on me since I could remember.

Once everyone sat down and grabbed snacks off the numerous platters Mom set on the table, I cleared my throat. “Okay—I didn’t have time to make copies, so I’m going to pass around the printouts. Bottom line—between what I read, and what I learned from reliable sources,” I glanced over at Mom. “The fire ten years ago was intentional—and I believe that all the victims were residents of the haven.”

Everyone started talking at once.

Except Sam.

He studied me, obviously remembering what I’d said earlier, about his dad possibly being involved. I didn’t want it to be true, but what I found so far kept pointing to him. I really wish I could find more details on that...

“Dad,” I said. He broke off his discussion with Jake, and turned to me. “Can you find out about an old real estate deal?”

“Possibly. Who were the parties involved?” He had gone into architect mode. Good. I forced myself not to look at Sam.

“The Hyatts and the Emmetts.”

Dad leaned forward. “Are you talking about the sale of the apartment building? They’ve been sniping at each other about that ever since the deal was struck.”

I swallowed. “Mr. Hyatt filed a lawsuit, claiming his family was cheated. From what I read, it got pretty ugly.”

“And you think the fire was set because of it?”

“No.” I focused on the table, my hands shaking in my lap. I pressed them between my thighs, and kept going, my voice shaking almost as much. “I think it was meant to destroy Hyattown.” Pulling one hand free, I opened the file folder, took out the small guide. “Sam, your dad was not only helping to keep the secret of the haven. He wrote this.”

I handed the guide to Misty, who passed it over. She already knew about it, and she must have been itching to read it. I made a mental note to thank her for not mentioning anything about the conversation with Mom.

Sam clutched the guide, staring at it. He didn’t look surprised at its existence—just that I had it. “Where did you get this?” he whispered.

“Katie found it in her dad’s office. The sewer map was stuck inside it.” I studied him, the truth clear on his face. “You already knew about this.”

“I told you I had—family secrets. This is one of them. But it died the day of the fire. Dad shut down the haven, and all the residents moved on to other places. He never talked about it again.” Sam’s fingers brushed over his left shoulder.

“How long after the fire were you and Jake attacked?”

Sam looked surprised. Jake answered for him. “It was before—but you already knew that, Finch. What are you trying not to say?”

“I think—” My throat threatened to close up. Swallowing past the lump blocking it—I think it may have been my heart—I said it out loud. The awful theory that had been forming in my mind since this morning. “I think you and Sam were supposed to be there. That you were meant to die in that fire.”

~ ~ ~

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Both Sam and Jake stared at me. And I saw it in their eyes—they had a suspicion. Buried deep, hardly ever thought, but a suspicion. That they had missed their fate, by a whim, or by interference.

“Why do you think that?” Jake’s voice sounded raw.

“It makes sense. If the other victims of the fire were from the haven, whoever set it was trying to drive them out.” I shuffled through the reports I didn’t pass out. The reports I acquired earlier. “What happened afterward? The haven was shut down. Mission accomplished.”

Silence filled the room. I waited for Dad to ask where I got that information; he knew I could hack, though I only did it when absolutely necessary. It’s not like I ever went onto the admin computers at school and changed my grades.

Instead of accusing, he held out his hand. “Let me see the reports.”

I handed them over. The official seals were on them, front and center. Official internal reports, memos, attachments to reports. I had taken everything I could find having to do with the fire, and the aftermath.

When I read them the first time, the report from the first officer on scene had nearly stopped my heart. Sam and Jake had been there, at the school, hiding in one of the classrooms. I saw Dad frown, knew he’d reached that part of the report.

“Sam.” Dad looked at him. Sam met his eyes, his shoulders tense, hands clenched into fists. “Do you remember being at the school, the night of the fire?”

“No.” He swallowed, glancing over at Jake. “I don’t remember much from that time. I was still recovering from—” He lowered his head, staring at the table. “From the attack.”

“I remember,” Jake said. We all looked at him. He was nearly as pale as Sam. Candace moved closer, took the hand clenching and unclenching against the table. His head snapped around, and the power of the emotions that passed between them was almost visible. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“Anytime, wolf boy.” She laced their fingers together. “Now tell them what you told me.”

Nodding, he took in a breath. “Drew—Sam’s dad—loaded me and Sam into the car. We weren’t up for traveling, especially me. But he insisted, saying we were in danger. He planned to take us out of town. The fire at the apartment building forced him to detour. He told me to find a safe place, take Sam with me. Since I couldn’t get far, I hid us both in an empty apartment. We heard them screaming,” he whispered, staring at the table. “I don’t know if Sam remembers, but I’ll never forget the sound of it, of the explosion that finally silenced them.”

“Explosion?” I think my voice squeaked—it happened when I was surprised. None of the reports even hinted at an explosion. “Are you sure?”

“It shook that part of the building. I thought the ceiling was going to fall in on us.”

Sam let out a sound. I jumped out of my chair and headed for him. I recognized that sound—and the change in his eyes.

He was losing control.

“Sam.” I took a huge chance and touched him. He grabbed me, moving so fast I didn’t realize we had until he pinned me against the wall. “It’s okay, Sam. You’re safe here. Do you understand? You are safe. Here. Now. No, Dad.” I kept my voice even, praying Dad would get that he needed to stay back. “Sam and I are just having a moment. Right, Sam? Look at me, tell me how smart I am.” I reached up, framed his face with my hands. Sweat slicked his skin. “Look at me, Sam.”

Just when I thought I’d lost him, he did. I let out my breath when I saw that his eyes were normal again. “Sorry,” he whispered. His voice raw. “I’m so sorry, Alex. Jake brought it all back, and I panicked. I didn’t hurt anyone—tell me I didn’t—”

“You’re fine. We’re all fine.” I lied to keep him calm. I was far from fine. His loss of control terrified me. Like the snap of a finger, I nearly had a seven foot Fenris in my house. “Let’s sit down, and you can tell everyone what you remember.”

He nodded, collapsing when he got to his chair. Candace pushed past me to look him over. And Dad had me out of reach before I could blink, Mom right behind him.

“Is he really back with us?” Dad’s voice sounded almost as raw.

“For now.” I wasn’t the only one who understood how close it had been. I was sure Jake knew, but he let me handle it, since I seemed to be the calming influence. Nothing like an acid test, in front of potential victims. “He’ll get through it, Dad. And I have to help him.”

Mom let out a gasp. Dad took her hand, turned back to me. “I noticed. Damn it, Alex—I told you I didn’t want to feel helpless again. Watching you with him was like a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from.”

“Dad, Mom—I’m so sorry. I didn’t have time to do anything but what I did. Jake said Sam is really volatile right now—”

“What else did he say?”

Uh oh—too much information. I just turned him into angry, threatening, grounding Dad. And Mom had her “I’m not letting you out of my sight” glare.

“Excuse me.” Candace came to my rescue. I didn’t care if it was intentional or not—I wanted to kiss her. “Is it okay if I take a quick look at Alex? I know you must be worried.” She moved past them, leaning in to take my pulse.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“You did a stupid, brave thing.”

“Gee, thanks.”

She smiled, and raised her voice so my parents and everyone else could hear. “Get some rest. And if you need anything, call Misty.”

The laughter helped ease the tension in the dining room. Candace nodded to my dad, gave her best to my mom, then grabbed Jake and got out of there. Sam had already disappeared, probably embarrassed. I so wanted to talk to him before he left. Since Misty was the last person left, I walked her to the front door.

“Do what Candace suggested,” she said. “Get some rest. Okay, have a great night!” She waved at me and bounded out the door.

“Misty.” She froze at the edge of the porch. “Give it back.”

“What are you—”

“I saw you sneak the guide off the table. Now hand it over.”

Blushing, she moved to me, holding out the small book. “I just wanted—”

“I’ll make you a copy. And for everyone else, if they want it. But until then, it stays with me.”

“Fine.” She tried out her famous pout on me. Still didn’t work. “Sorry.”

“You’re sorry you got caught.”

Her smile erased the pout. “You bet I am. I was looking forward to reading it.”

“Okay. How about I bring a few pages to school?” I figured it wouldn’t take long to scan in to Red.

“That would be outstanding.” She hugged me, with so much enthusiasm my bruises complained. “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

I watched her dash across the driveway and hop in the back seat of Candace’s car. Having a best friend was exhausting.

I stood on the porch after they drove off, needing time to prepare myself. Now that the buffers were gone, I’d have to face Mom and Dad. Alone.

They waited for me in the living room. I glanced over, noticed the table had been cleared from our session. I knew I hadn’t been gone that long, which meant Mom was in frenzied cleaning mode. Not a good sign.

Swallowing, I braced myself for the inevitable and limped into the living room.

My parents stood next to the sofa. Mom had her hands on her hips, her voice flat when she spoke.

“Margaret. I want to know what you didn’t tell me about Sam.”

“What?” Not what I expected at all. “I told you...oh.” I forgot—I had skipped over the whole “Sam is a monster” part with her. “I didn’t want you to worry about me, Mom. What happened with Sam tonight—that’s brand new. Like today brand new. Didn’t Dad say anything to you? He was there.”

He raised his eyebrows—and I realized too late I just threw him under the bus.

Mom turned to him. “Raleigh? Why didn’t you tell me?” Her gaze moved to me. “And why did you keep the truth about Sam from me? I thought the secrets were over.” She sounded hurt, and I didn’t blame her.

I should have told her everything about Sam. I wanted to protect him. I would have told her about this latest development, kind of, but I never had the chance. And I certainly never expected Sam to come unglued again so soon after changing.

That accusing gaze moved back to Dad. “I’d like an answer. Now.”

“Why don’t I take Alex upstairs? Then we can talk.”

“Oh, yes.” She crossed her arms. “We’ll talk.”

Dad grabbed me around the waist and practically carried me up the stairs, he was moving so fast.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to—”

“She’s been waiting for this blowup, ever since you spilled the truth. I just managed to duck it until now. She’s madder than she would have been, now that she knows we didn’t tell her everything.” I didn’t expect him to take the rap for my exclusions, but there he was, ready to face down Mom, all alone. He set me down in front of my bedroom door, kissed my forehead. “Get some sleep, sweetheart. Just put your headphones on if we get too loud.”

Panic shot through me. “Dad—”

“We’ll be fine, Alex. Your mom is disappointed right now. Once we get past it, we’ll be—”

“Fine.” I hugged him, wanting to be a buffer between him and Mom. This was all because of me, and it wasn’t right that he took the heat for it. “If you need me to explain anything—”

“This is for me and your mom to hash out. Go to bed, Alex.”

I watched him walk down the hall, and knew he put up a good front for me. They didn’t fight often, but when they did, I wanted to crawl out my window to get away from the shouting. If I didn’t always see them the day after, looking and acting like newlyweds, I would have expected a suitcase by the front door, and one of them saying goodbye.

It worked for them. Not so much for me.

Expecting a long, sleepless night, I set the files on the edge of my desk, holding on to the guide as I climbed on my bed and settled in the pile of pillows. I hoped to distract myself by doing some more research, and if I was really lucky, fall asleep before the yelling started.

I turned to a section of the guide I’d been afraid to look at before: the section titled Others. The first entry had me sitting up in shock.

Fallen Angels. There are more here than we think, living among us. Most of them choose to fall, to experience the human emotions they don’t have as angels. Once fallen, they are as human as you and me, with a few exceptions.

“Wow.” I couldn’t really think beyond that, so I read the next section—the exceptions.

There are those few who bring some of their former power with them. They are known as Seekers, because of their ability to find anyone or anything. A Watcher accompanies them, to keep them safe. When they are finding, they are at their most vulnerable, and as the Watcher is always a spirit of some kind, they can be with the Seeker, but unseen.

I had no words—but a small part of me thought it would be so cool to meet one. In a safe place. When I didn’t have anything to find.

Nothing in that description mentioned that the Watcher could hurt me—but it also didn’t say that it couldn’t. At this point, I planned on being overcautious.

The next entry was just as shocking, but in a different way. I knew people believed in guardian angels, but I never thought they were actually real. Apparently, I was wrong.

Guardian Angels. Easily recognized by the mark somewhere on their arm—wings surrounding a flaming sword. Because they are the souls of humans searching for redemption, we see very few, if any, in the haven. Every one that has joined us has tried to save the other residents, who don’t appreciate being constantly referred to as abominations. They don’t last long here. I discourage them when they arrive, to stop the inevitable outbursts before they have a chance to build. Unfortunately, I’m not always successful, and because they are on the approved list, they have every right for sanctuary.

“Way to alienate the people trying to help you.” I believed that was irony—I’d have to check to be sure.

I didn’t hear any raised voices, so Mom and Dad must have finished, and I missed it, or their argument was more of a “discussion,” which meant I’d be walking in on them not looking at each other and hardly talking for the next few days. Yeah, “discussion” meaning they weren’t talking to each other. I preferred the knock down drag out—at least it was over quickly.

A sound from downstairs had me sitting up.

The Devil and I were kosher—I thought—so whatever made that noise was someone, or something else. Dropping the book on the bed, I got up, moving quietly, in case the cause wasn’t downstairs anymore.

I cracked open my door. It was dark in the hall, and Mom and Dad were in bed—their bedroom door was closed, no light shining out from under the bottom. I didn’t see any movement, even after my eyes adjusted to the dark.

I slid along the wall to the top of the stairs, stopped to listen for any sound. Nothing.

Shaking out my hands, I crept down the stairs, and saw the reason for the noise when I was halfway down. Something had been thrown through one of the diamond panes in the front window. Mom was going to have heart failure.

I halted at the bottom of the stairs. Correction—something had been shot through the window. A crossbow bolt stuck itself in the gorgeous oak wood floor, still quivering from impact.

Paper fluttered from the shaft. I moved forward to pull it off.

“Alex!”

Dad tackled me—just before a second bolt flew through the broken pane. Right where I’d been standing. It shot across the room, thunking into the wall, inches from Mom’s right arm.

Dad grabbed my shoulders. “Are you all right?”

I nodded. “Go.”

He stayed bent over, still limping a little as he moved across the room, and caught Mom before she did a faceplant with the floor. He knelt, taking her with him. Out of the line of fire. “Beth—it’s okay, sweetheart, I’ve got you.”

“Is that—from a crossbow?” She sounded less freaked out than I expected. Of course, she hadn’t seen the bolt in the floor yet. “Margaret—”

“Is fine,” I said. She gave me a weak smile, and leaned into Dad. I crawled over to the bolt sticking out of the floor, and heard her outraged gasp. She finally saw it. “I’ll get it out, Mom.”

“Don’t touch it,” she said. I figured she wanted to leave it for the police, which I sure hoped Dad was not calling. “I want to see the damage first. In the morning.”

“There’s a piece of paper attached to it. I’m just going to take it off—”

Dad’s low voice floated across the room. “Keep your head down, Alex.”

He didn’t need to warn me. I slid my hand up only as far as I needed to untie the ribbon holding the paper in place. It fluttered to the floor. After grabbing it, I crawled over to my parents.

“Bathroom,” I whispered. Mom raised her eyebrows, but Dad understood right away. The downstairs bathroom didn’t have any windows.

We crawled into the short hall leading to the half bath, and I didn’t breathe easy until Dad closed and locked the door.

“Raleigh.” Mom sounded calm, but her hand shook as she reached for Dad. “We need to call the police.”

“We will, Beth. As soon as we figure out the threat.”

They both watched me unroll the small square of paper. The same block letters scrawled across the inside, only three words this time. Three words that chilled me.

YOU WERE WARNED.

I handed the note over to Dad, and wrapped my arms around my waist.

They both read it, Mom clutching his shoulder. Dad looked at me. “Is this the same author of the first note?” I nodded, my throat too tight to squeeze any words out. “Come here, Alex.”

I crawled to them, and felt immediately safer when both of them wrapped me in a parent sandwich. It had been a long time, something they used to do when I had nightmares. I was in a living nightmare right now, and their presence made it a little easier, if not any less scary.

“Did you still want to call the police, Beth?”

“And have them peg us as nutcases? We’ll deal with this. All of us.” She raised her eyebrows, meeting my eyes.

“Right,” I said. “I promised I wouldn’t hide anything from you again. Surprise.” I waved my hands, in an attempt to lighten the mood.

They hugged me tighter, and the tears lodged in my throat threatened to embarrass me. I let them talk over my head, control slowly coming back. Then the words “keep her home from school” caught my attention.

“No.” I eased back so I could look at them. “I am not going to hide.” As much as I wanted to. “Whoever’s doing this is feeling threatened, which means we’re getting close to the truth. I won’t let them get away with killing all those people—even if they weren’t all exactly people.”

I didn’t voice my worst fear, the one that kept pushing me forward, even though I wanted to run in the other direction, especially after tonight.

Whoever did this was back for Sam and Jake. And they just made it personal.

They went after my family.