prologue
My worn-out combat boots hit the pavement in a staccato rhythm. I wasn’t going to make it in time. Only four days after my eighteenth birthday, and I’d screwed everything up. Again. My breaths were choppy as I squeezed whatever oxygen I could into my lungs, but I’d never run this long before.
The cool autumn air kissed my heated skin as I made it to the top of the hill. Our house sat nestled at the bottom, surrounded on all sides by thick, ancient trees. I increased my speed, nearly stumbling down the steep sidewalk in my haste to reach my parents. I had to tell them what I’d done before it was too late.
Please don’t let it be too late.
The hair on the nape of my neck stood on end when I thought about who could be watching me as I ran home. As I ran away from the mistake that might just cost us our lives. My practiced speech played over and over in my head; it was an accident.I didn’t mean to.I’m sorry. But my remorse wouldn’t save us when the hunters came.
A deep burning took root in my thighs as they trembled and were pushed past their limits. Still, I kept running. Not muchfurther now. Our cute, unremarkable ranch home was chosen specifically for its distance from the humans, while also maintaining its anonymity for being just closeenough. The hunters wouldn’t look twice at it. At least, they wouldn’t have if I hadn’t lost control today and broke into the mind of a human.
Now, every hunter in the country would zero in on this town to win the trophy kill of the century—the last nightmares. My parents and I weren’t monsters, but other supernaturals still feared us. After what I did today, I didn’t blame them. I forced myself to stop at the fence that marked our property line. There were still enough leaves on the trees to cover me while I tried to calm my racing heart.
As I caught my breath, I turned my focus outward, tuning in to the frequency that only another supernatural could sense. Power flowed through every living thing, even the stagnant rocks at my feet, and all power registered to other supernaturals nearby. Big or small magicks, it didn’t matter. However, only larger magicks could be traced, say, to a small town in the middle of nowhere that hid innocent parents and their careless child.
No power pulsed from inside the house. My dark curls flew past my shoulders as I broke into another sprint. Only a few yards left. I made out my parents' beat-up station wagon in the drive. A good sign. One more yard. The front porch loomed ahead just as I wore a stitch in my side. There was no time to stretch it out. No time to breathe. I had to warn my parents. We had to start packing. We had to leave. We had to—
I skidded to a stop, heart in my throat as I stared at the broken front door in horror. It was ripped off the hinges and leaned awkwardly to the side. My panicked gaze took in more details I’d missed on my sprint over. Mom’s flowerpots were shattered—the soil and roots spilling across the entryway. The fence gate was in a similar state as the front door, and theliving room window had cracks spiderwebbed across the entire thing.
No.
My hands shook as I listened for movement from the inside.
Please.
Not a sound. My boots crunched over broken pottery and wood chips, and I froze on the threshold of my temporary home. They were all temporary, but always because we chose to leave them. The devastation before me was anything but a choice. Our living room was in shambles.
The coffee table we’d found at a yard sale was now in pieces on the other side of the room, a strong tell of how the TV screen was shattered. The couch was overturned, and random scorch marks stained the walls and carpet, with no other signs of a fire. It was my mother’s crumpled form in the center of it all that sent me to my knees. I crawled to her, ignoring the debris that dug into my skin.
“Mom?” My voice was a broken whisper as I gently shook her shoulder. “Mommy?” She turned her head to look at me, and I let the tears fall in relief.
There was blood in her hair, but it was dry. Bruises marred her face, and I knew she had fought with everything she had. Everything but her magick. My parents were strong enough to infiltrate multiple minds at once, even ones experienced at keeping them out. They could have easily subdued the force that attacked them here, but that level of power left a mark and would have been an alarm to whatever hunters weren’t already on their way.
My parents had one great weakness—me. Sobs caught in my throat at what I’d done. I brought the hunters to us, andIwas the reason they couldn’t even defend themselves. Crystal green eyes, the exact shade of my own, looked back at me with a glassy emptiness.
“They took him,” she whispered, the words scratchy as if she hadn’t spoken for a while. Or had been screaming.
I quickly scanned the room again, heart squeezing for the one thing I’d missed the first time.
My father.
I looked back at my mother with a trembling chin. “Who took him?” I needed her to say it.
A slow blink. “The tribunal.”
One moment of panic. That’s all I allowed; a single heart-shattering moment of terror for my father before I got to work. I knew what I had to do. We had contingency plans for everything, even this. I stood and grabbed the car keys from the hook on the wall. Supplies. I’d fill the car with the basics, and we’d get the rest as we went.
I raided the kitchen first for non-perishables before stepping over my mother and grabbing a box from the closet. I glanced back at where she still sat on the floor, broken, but…
“Is he alive?” I asked my mother, all business now to keep from falling apart. “Mom!” I shouted when she didn’t answer. “Is your bond alive?”
The last bonded nightmares. My parents were lucky that they were fated for one another. There were none of our kind left for me—not that bonds had to be from the same faction, but with the death threat over my head, I had zero chances. I shoved a few jackets and blankets into the box before digging in the back of the closet for the sleeping bags.
Mom didn’t answer, and I tried not to freak out. Maybe she was sensing the bond, feeling for what shape my father was in. Bonded couples had a connection like no other. Their very souls were joined. Emotions, energy,pain…It could all be shared and felt, like the opposite ends of a lifeline. I had no experience with it, but surely it didn’t take this long.
“Is your bond intact?” I forced out, fingers denting the cardboard in my hands. Was my father alive?
“It’s still intact.” The answer came from behind me, and I whirled around to see my father standing in the door. Haggard, but alive.
