I waited for the woman on the deck to scream. But she rolled over, laughing. Her oiled, golden skin blurred into a sleek coat. The man beside her took two huge bounds and leapt, hitting the roof in cat form. They vanished into the dark vines just as the other panther had. Hisses and wicked purring filled the branches above us, drowning the air with their menacing sounds.

How many are up there?

The Guardians had all shifted form. Our pack huddled up, glancing into the forest canopy. But the cats seemed to be invisible, slinking among the branches, remaining out of sight.

“We’ve got to get out from under them,” Connor said. “Stay close. Head for the house. We need a defensible position we can hold while Adne weaves a door.”

Ethan took point, Sabine and Nev beside him, while Mason, Shay, and Ren stayed closed to Adne. I hung back with Connor, watching the trees as our group slowly moved forward.

We were ready when the next panther leapt. Its scream became a grunt when Ethan hurled his tank at it, catching the beast fully in the chest. It hit the ground, struggling to catch its breath. Mason and Ren took advantage of its momentary disorientation, charging the cat. It lashed out at them with its claws, but Mason held its attention while Ren tore at its flank with his teeth. When it finally turned to scream at Ren, Mason went for the kill, lunging at the cat’s throat and crushing its windpipe.

The trees came alive with rage-filled screams, and las sombras rained down on us in a torrent of sleek midnight fur and razor-sharp claws.

“Run!” Connor shouted.

Ethan took off toward the house with wolves at his heels. Connor cried out as a panther sprang on him, knocking him to his knees. I snarled and threw myself at the cat, forcing it to release Connor for the sake of fighting me. The force of my blow sent us rolling onto the beach. Our bodies were twisted around each other as we wrestled in the sand. I yelped when the panther’s claws sank into my back but answered immediately with my own ferocious bites into its chest. The cat screamed, rolling away from me. I scrambled to my feet, squaring off against it as I tried to brace myself in the soft sand. It hissed at me, bright green eyes filled with rage . . . and intelligence.

My heart skipped a beat. A Guardian—the cats were like us, slaves to the Keepers. For a moment I wanted to reach out, to see if I could somehow make a connection to this unwanted enemy. But such a thought belonged only to me. The cat bunched up and leapt at me. I went flat, rolling over on my back so the panther sailed past me. I kept tumbling until I was right-side up and without hesitation lunged at the cat’s unprotected back, tearing into its flesh. The cat screamed and bucked, trying to get away from my ripping teeth. But I was unrelenting; its blood—invisible against its black coat—stained the beach sand crimson. Desperate, the cat reared up and tipped over backward. I leapt off before it could crash down on top of me. Free of attack, the panther didn’t turn to face me again. Instead it bolted for the cover of the jungle.

“Calla!” Connor was waving at me. The others had made it to the deck. I shook sand from my coat and ran for the hideout.

You okay? Ren came to meet me. You’re bleeding.

The cuts aren’t deep. I nipped at his flank. We’ll deal with it once we’re out of here.

Ethan was at the door, flinging it open. Sabine and Nev bolted inside. I looked over my shoulder as I ran toward the house. The jungle had become still. No cats pursued us.

They aren’t giving chase. Ren snarled, sharing my anxiety.

I know. I bared my teeth at him. That can’t be good.

Connor swore as we passed the still forms of Inez and Miguel on the deck. They’d been propped up, throats torn out, and they stared at us with unseeing eyes.

“I swear I’m getting payback for this,” Connor said, slamming the door behind us. The Guardians stalked around the Searchers, bristling and snarling. Something was very, very wrong.

“Start weaving, Adne,” Connor said quietly. “As fast as you can.”

She nodded, moving toward the entrance to the kitchen to give herself more space. She had just pulled out her skeans when I caught the scent. It wasn’t las sombras but another, even more acrid odor. Like that of the panthers, it was burning and too sharp, but the cats had smelled unusual, new. This scent was old. One I knew all too well. A raw scent of boiling pitch and singed hair.

I was already moving when I saw the inky, formless creature looming behind Adne.

Calla! Shay’s cry of alarm sounded in my mind, but I had no choice. I couldn’t think or Adne would die. If she died, everyone died.

“Adne, run!” I’d shifted forms, barreling toward her with all the speed I had.

She turned to face me, startled. Confusion locked her in place.

“Connor! Ethan!” I kept running. “Get everyone away from here. Run now!”

I stretched out my arms, grabbing Adne at the waist. As I pivoted around, I threw her across the room, hoping Connor would be ready to catch her.

“No!” I heard Shay’s desperate yell at the same moment Ren howled.

I closed my eyes and let the wraith engulf me.

Pain.

As the darkness rolled over my skin, it felt like a thousand small, white-hot hooks had lodged in my flesh. They slowly began to pull, tearing skin from muscle. I was screaming, but I couldn’t hear anything. Not even the sound of my own agony. I was being torn apart. I was on fire.

And then there was nothing.

PART III

FIRE

SIXTEEN

I WOKE WITH A START, gasping for breath.

Outside the window a blizzard raged. Sleet and snow, sharp as darts, careened from clouds to earth. My eyelids drooped as I tried to sort through my dim memories. Warm breeze. The smell of salt air kissed by lemons.

Now I was surrounded by familiar scents. The must of dog-eared paperbacks, the dull bite of sharpened pencils, and the crispness of denim. I sat up, looking around.

I was in bed. In my room.

Goose bumps crawled up my arms.

I was in Vail. A scream got caught trying to explode from my lungs, as if it had been choked off by an invisible hand.

I’m home. What do I have to be afraid of?

“Good morning, sleepyhead.”

My mother was sitting in a chair near my dresser. My father stood at her shoulders, looking oddly stiff.

“Mom?” My voice cracked. I tried to move again, but my limbs tingled. They felt so heavy.

“Of course it’s me,” she said, while I stared at her.