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  His smile had the keen edge of a blade. “I blame myself. I still think of you as a little boy. I wanted to protect you from your enemies, but I failed to see how much you’ve grown up. I’ve neglected you, and for that I have much regret.”

  Shay’s fingers clutched my hand so tightly it hurt. “Tell me who you really are.”

  “I’m your uncle,” Bosque said calmly, walking toward us. “Your own flesh and blood.”

  “Who are the Keepers?” Shay asked.

  “Others like me, who want only to protect you. To help you,” Bosque replied. “Shay, you are not like other children. You have untapped abilities that you cannot begin to imagine. I can show you who you truly are. Teach you to use the power you have.”

  “If you’re so invested in helping Shay, why was he the sacrifice at my union?” I pushed Shay behind me, shielding him from Bosque.

  Bosque shook his head. “Another tragic misunderstanding. A test, Calla, of your loyalty to our noble cause. I thought we offered you the best of educations, but perhaps you aren’t familiar with Abraham’s trial with his son Isaac? Isn’t the sacrifice of one you love the ultimate gauge of your faith? Do you really believe we wanted Shay to die at your hands? We’ve asked you to be his protector.”

  I began to shake. “You’re lying.”

  “Am I?” Bosque smiled, and it almost looked kind. “After all you’ve been through, have you no trust in your masters? You would never have been made to harm Shay—another kill would have been provided in his place at the last moment. I understand such a test may seem too terrible to be fair, too much to ask of you and Renier. Perhaps you are too young to have faced such a trial.”

  I couldn’t answer him, suddenly questioning everything I’d done up to this moment, wondering if my own desires had carried me far off course, skewing my ability to see the truth. I didn’t know what to believe.

  “I’ve cared for Shay since he was a tiny child. Provided for his every want and need. Surely that proves my concern for his welfare.” Bosque paused a few feet short of us, stretching his arms out to his nephew. “Please, give me your trust.”

  The stained glass windows behind Bosque exploded into a shower of multicolored shards. I pushed Shay to the ground and curled my body around his, shielding him from the jagged rain. I threw an arm up to cover my face while the falling glass sheared the fabric of my sweater and sliced my skin.

  Shouts sounded in the room, the pounding of footfalls on the library floor. I raised my face to see at least twenty Searchers leaping through the shattered windows, surging in a wave of glinting steel and buzzing arrows toward the Keeper. The air around Bosque shimmered and the flurry of projectiles sailing at him bounced back like they’d slammed into a shield. Bosque raised his arms. The leaping flames of the fire extinguished and the red haze illuminating the room gave way to the blindness of heavy shadow.

  A few of the Searchers stumbled and fell; others jerked awkwardly to a stop, struggling to regain their bearings. Shay pushed me off him and rolled to his feet.

  “What happened?”

  “Searchers,” I hissed. “More than I’ve ever seen.”

  Bosque threw his head back and cried out. I covered my ears against the sound, which made the library’s books vibrate on the shelves. The darkness covering the room collected into distinct pools that rose into the air and slowly took shape. I gasped and grabbed Shay’s arm.

  “Are those . . .” His voice was tight.

  “Wraiths,” I murmured. “But it’s impossible.”

  “Why?” His eyes were wide as the shadow guards descended upon the invading force.

  I could barely draw breath to get the words out. “No one can summon more than a single wraith at a time. They’re too hard to control.”

  “Wraiths incoming!” one of the Searchers shouted. “Ethan, Connor! Get the boy and get out now! The rest of you clear a path for them!”

  Another Searcher, a woman, screamed when black tendrils snaked around her waist. Yet another hacked futilely with his sword at the looming wraith that engulfed him; he made strangling sounds as his body disappeared into the black veil.

  “Go! Go! Go!” the first Searcher yelled.

  Bosque’s face twisted, full of outrage. With fingers extended like talons, he pointed to the library door, twisted his hand, and jerked his arm back. The door flew open and the horde that waited on the balcony sprang to life, rushing into the fray. Succubi and incubi hissed and screeched as they flew through the library, spouting flames while the Searchers’ arrows buzzed through the air. Several of the winged creatures screamed and dropped to the ground, feathered shafts protruding from their chests.

  The chimera bounded into the room and pounced on a Searcher who screamed as the lion’s jaws clamped on his shoulder, its serpent tail striking at his legs over and over. Shuffling feet and moans announced the arrival of the painted undead, who lurched into the battle, jaws agape, eyes hollow and hungry. A few of the Searchers dropped their weapons, screaming at the sight of these slow-moving, desiccated creatures.

  Bosque began to laugh and waved his arms as though conducting a symphony. The chorus of moans grew louder.

  “Don’t look at the Fallen!” the first Searcher shouted. “Our target is all that matters!”

  “Monroe! The boy is over here!” A man bolted from the other side of the room toward us. I recognized him instantly, even without blood gushing from his nose.

  I bared my teeth as he raised his crossbow.

  “No talking this time,” Ethan said.

  I shifted forms, launching myself at him, but my breath came whistling back out as a pair of crossbow bolts buried in my chest. The force of my leap sent

  Ethan and me tumbling over each other across the floor. I smashed into the far wall. Pain rocketed up my spine. I could feel blood running over my stomach as I fought to remain conscious.

  “Calla!” Shay hurled himself at us, shifting in midair. Ethan swore, twisting away from Shay’s snapping jaws.

  “Monroe, Connor! Get over here now! They’ve turned the Scion,” Ethan yelled, and another string of curses erupted from his throat.

  A blurred figure sped across the room, weaving through the chaos of wings, claws, and weapons. I saw Connor fling his body across the floor, rolling just out of reach of the slithering shape of a wraith. He leapt to his feet and bolted toward Shay, who snarled when Connor drew his swords. He held the blades low, wolf and Searcher stalking in a slow circle facing each other.

  “I don’t want to hurt you, kid, but we don’t have time for this.”

  I watched them struggle through a haze of pain. My breath sounded wet each time I sucked in air. Despite the spike of pain I tried to drag myself toward them.

  While Shay’s eyes tracked Connor, Ethan struggled to his feet. His hand dipped inside his leather duster and he threw himself onto the wolf’s back.

  Shay yelped when the Searcher plunged a syringe into his neck. Shay bucked, snarling, and Ethan flew back onto the stone floor. The wolf pivoted, muscles bunched to leap at Ethan, but abruptly shook his head. His limbs shuddered and he whimpered, swaying on his feet and collapsing onto the floor.

  He didn’t move again.

  I howled, struggling across the floor to his side. Each step was agony. The crossbow bolts still protruded from my chest. The blood in my lungs was slowly drowning me.

  When I reached him, I shifted forms, buried my hands in his fur, and shook his shoulders.

  “Shay! Shay!” Even as I clung to him, I could feel strength ebbing from my limbs.

  “Enchanted bolts; hope you’re enjoying the ride.” Ethan’s gravel-rough voice drew my eyes to the side. He had the crossbow trained on me once more.

  “Are you the one who turned him?”

  My chest was on fire, my vision blurred. I nodded and slumped to the floor, rolling alongside Shay. So this is how I die? I reached for his hand.

  Ethan’s finger tightened on the trigger. A long moan from behind me pulled his eyes a
way. He gasped, stumbling back. “Kyle?”

  I twisted my neck. Through a haze of pain I saw the corpse-like Searcher who’d emerged from one of the paintings ambling toward us, his arms grasping mindlessly at the air in front of him.

  “No!” Ethan started toward the lurching body.

  The Searcher who had been shouting orders loomed over me, blocking Ethan’s view of the moaning creature.

  “Get out of the way, Monroe,” Ethan said. “I have to help him.”

  “He’s not your brother, Ethan.” Monroe gripped the other man’s arms. “That isn’t Kyle. Not anymore. Forget him.”

  I heard a choked sob as Ethan’s shoulders crumpled.

  “We need to get out of here,” Monroe said. “Stay at Connor’s back in the retreat.”

  Ethan’s face was tight with grief, but he nodded. “On it.”

  “Now, Connor,” Monroe said. “Hurry.”

  Connor crouched beside Shay, gathering the wolf in his arms.

  I cried out when Shay’s fingers were wrenched from mine.

  “Got him,” Connor said. “Let’s go.”

  “After you.” Ethan lifted his crossbow.

  Connor raced across the room with Ethan at his side, firing bolts as they ran. Monroe turned to follow.

  “Wait,” I whispered hoarsely.

  He looked down at me and frowned. “Who are you?”

  “I’m trying to help Shay.”

  “You made him like you? A Guardian?”

  “I had to.” The room began to fade in and out.

  “Did the Keepers make you turn him?”

  “No.” I winced, closing my eyes against the pain. “They didn’t know.”

  One of his eyebrows shot up. “You defied the Keepers?”

  I nodded. My body convulsed and I coughed up blood.

  There was a long moan and the slow scrape of feet along the stone floor grew louder. I wondered how close the creature that had been Kyle was . . . and how strong it might be.

  Monroe’s gaze flitted behind me. His brow knit and his eyes fell on me again, watching me struggle to sit up.

  “I’m sorry about this,” he said, raising his sword, and brought the hilt down on my skull.

  A lightning strike of pain seared through me before I sank into darkness.

  THIRTY-FIVE

  I LIVED IN THE SPACE BETWEEN THE CONSCIOUS and the unconscious. Brief flashes of light and sound occasionally pierced the veil that smothered my senses. I felt movement, but not any I made on my own. My limbs were numb. Arms, legs, torso all felt heavy; painless, but waterlogged and beyond my control.

  Was I dragged or carried? I couldn’t be sure. I was only vaguely aware of my body being lifted, jerked, passed from one pair of arms to another. Was this actually happening? I felt warm, drowsy. My eyelids were like lead curtains.

  “I hear we’ve bagged an alpha.”

  Voices. Rough speech that belonged to strangers, enemies. Words that made no sense.

  “Corinne’s son? Monroe must be relieved.”

  “No. It’s a female.”

  “That’s a shame. We’re not keeping her around, are we?”

  “Not sure. I think Monroe’s weighing our options.”

  Someone gripped my hand and I heard the voice of a friend.

  “It’s going to be okay, Calla. I swear I won’t let them hurt you.”

  “Shay, get over here,” a gruff but strangely familiar voice ordered. “I’ve asked you not to speak with her.”

  “You’re being unreasonable.”

  “I think you’ll find I’m very reasonable, but you haven’t earned my trust yet.”

  “Is that what I’m supposed to be doing?”

  “You’d be the wiser for it.”

  The world came rushing back, strange sights and scents swirling around me. I was lying on my back, and there was a dull ache in my chest. My eyes struggled to adjust to the dim light. Something cold with sharp edges clamped around my left wrist. A sudden heavy weight brought my arm down hard against my body and my eyes squeezed shut again. I winced at the tenderness in my rib cage.

  “Ethan, stay close to Connor in case she wakes up,” Monroe said.

  “Why are you doing this?” Shay said. “You don’t need to. She isn’t your enemy. Not anymore.”

  “Sure, kid.” Ethan laughed coldly. “Whatever you say.”

  “Hand me the other one, Ethan,” Connor said.

  The same cold grip seized my right wrist and pressure pinned my arm against my torso.

  “That should do it,” Connor said.

  “You said she’d be okay,” Shay growled. “You promised.”

  “And I’ll keep that promise,” Monroe said. “She hasn’t been harmed.”

  “She looks okay to me,” Ethan added. “What do you think, Connor?”

  “I think she’s kind of cute,” Connor replied.

  A snarl and a scuffling sound reached my ears.

  “Whoa! Hang on there, kid. Lucky you ducked, Connor, I think that’s the same left hook that broke my nose last round,” Ethan said. “You got him, Monroe?”

  “He’s not going anywhere,” Monroe said with a grunt. “Stop struggling. Connor didn’t mean anything by it, Shay. You don’t need to fight him.”

  “Let me go!”

  “Scrappy one, isn’t he?” Connor said. “You’re sweet on this girl, huh? Interesting.”

  “If you touch her, I swear—”

  “Calm down,” Connor muttered. “I was just joking around.”

  I forced my eyes open, but everything remained blurry. My throat was parched and I struggled to swallow, to find my voice.

  “We had a deal, Shay,” Monroe said firmly. “You can’t stay here any longer.”

  “But—”

  “You’ll see her again. You have my word.”

  “When?”

  “That depends on you.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “You will. Now it’s time to go. Today is the day your real life begins.”

  The light winked out and shadows engulfed the room. The long screech of a rusty metal hinge was followed by a dull clang. The voices began to fade.

  I parted my lips, my voice emerging in a quiet rasp.

  “Shay?”

  Silence. I was alone in the darkness.

  Maybe it was a dream.

  Anger seized me and I screamed at the shadows that filled the room, but there was no enemy to fight, save my gnawing fear of the unknown. I began to tremble.

  You’re an alpha, Calla. Get it together.

  The unyielding darkness pooled in the pit of my stomach.

  What does it mean to be an alpha if you’ve abandoned your pack?

  I was glad to be alone when the tears finally came. At least no one would witness the shame that rolled swift and hot down my cheeks. Streaks of moisture reached my lips and tasted sharp and bitter, reminding me of the choices I’d made. Of how I’d taken so many turns that brought me here—to a place so unfamiliar that it felt like the end of everything.

  Where did running away lead me? Straight into the arms of the only enemy I’ve ever known? To my own death?

  For the first time I could remember, I was truly alone. I stared into the empty room, grasping for a sliver of hope.

  I’d risked everything to save Shay. Letting stillness ease my trembling limbs, I closed my eyes and saw his face, remembering the freedom I’d felt in his arms, the possibility of a life unlike any I’d imagined. I wondered if my capture had snuffed out that dream . . . if it had ever stood the chance of becoming real.

  Despair threatened to drag me down, but I fought back, clinging to a single, flickering thought. Shay loves me. He would risk everything to find his way back to my side and set me free. Because that’s what love is, isn’t it? It has to be.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Acknowledgment doesn’t phonetically evoke the grace and fortitude provided by colleagues, friends, and family, whose presence made this novel possibl
e. Richard Pine and Charlie Olsen of Inkwell are my knights in shining armor. Charlie—thank you for loving this book, guiding me, and indulging phone conversations conducted fully in Star Wars metaphors. Richard—I’m still dazzled whenever you call! I couldn’t have better writing mentors than

  Michael Green and Jill Santopolo at Philomel. Michael, thank you for your wonderful words and questions as I started this journey. I’d especially like to thank Jill for bringing incredible skill and kindness to our work together. The entire team at Penguin Young Readers has been wonderful. Thank you Don

  Weisberg, Jennifer Haller, Emily Romero, Erin Dempsey, Shanta Newlin, Jackie Engel, Linda McCarthy, Katrina Damkoehler, Felicia Frazier, Scottie

  Bowditch, and Julia Johnson for your incredible support and enthusiasm. I’m thrilled to be part of the Penguin family!

  I’m indebted to Stephanie Howard and Lisa Desrochers for being great critique partners. Lindsey Adams and Gina Monroe made my Internet digs fabulous by sharing their artistic gifts. John and Natalie Occhipinti taught me that strangers on a plane can become your first fans. Corby Kelly, thanks for lending your mad language skills. Kristin Naca, you are a goddess, keep it up. Casey Jarrin, your brilliance makes everything around you sparkle, this book being no exception. This writer’s mind flourished in a little-known corner of the globe: Ashland, Wisconsin, I love you like no other place in the world.

  FISH CAMP! Ed and Maribeth, thank you for reading from the first hope. Katie, thank you for knowing.

  None of this would have happened without the love and support of my family. Aunt Helen, thanks for all the books. Mom, Dad, Garth, you are the threads that weave through everything, always. And for Will, who dances with me whenever I am sad—I may not like The Young Ones, but I love you more every day.

  Visit

  NightshadeBook.com to read a sneak peek of

  Wolfsbane, Book 2 in the Nightshade series.