So his tormentor was over twenty-one. That narrowed it down to about a bazillion people.

Well, not really. It couldn’t be any of the middle- or high-schoolers who agreed with what Calla was doing. Who else did he know who was over twenty-one?

Bill Chandler, Becca’s father. He was a Guide himself, but he was in hiding now, trying to keep Becca safe. He was also terrified of the Guides coming to town. He wouldn’t have started a bunch of fires. Michael was honestly shocked he hadn’t called yet to yell at Michael for letting his neighborhood get destroyed.

Bill was an ass**le, but he wasn’t behind this.

He scrolled through the text messages again, stopping on the one of Hannah at the fire. Fierce in her fire gear, then gentle and patient with her son.

Sudden fury welled up in Michael’s chest.

He rolled forward onto his knees and punched the dead tree. Bark splintered and wood creaked. A few dead branches cascaded down around him. His knuckles were bleeding.

He wanted to do it again.

No, he wanted to do it to whoever had texted him.

Focus. Figure this out.

Another name came to him. Tyler?

Tyler.

Michael tried to make that work. Tyler had made it his life’s goal to torment Michael—until he’d revealed himself to be a full Fire Elemental, just as cursed as the Merricks were. He’d saved Michael’s life a few weeks ago, shooting a Guide in the head just before the man was going to kill Michael and Chris in their own living room.

Would Tyler do something like this? Why?

Michael couldn’t connect the dots there, either, but he also couldn’t eliminate Tyler entirely.

Who else? A complete stranger? A new Guide in town wouldn’t taunt him. They wouldn’t be like, “Hey, let’s grab a beer.”

They’d just shoot him.

Michael took a long breath and brushed bark off his knuckles. He picked up a dead branch and started snapping small pieces. He needed to think of a contingency plan, somewhere to send his brothers if he didn’t survive this meeting tonight—because he wasn’t naïve enough to think it was just a talk.

And he sure as hell wasn’t telling them about it.

Snap. Snap. Snap. Each piece was easier to break than the last, the wood dry and lacking any energy.

His fingers went still. He studied the dead tree again. There was a gap of bark where he’d slammed his fist into the trunk.

But there were other gaps in the bark, and more broken branches higher up the trunk.

Someone had climbed this tree. Recently, too, considering the bare wood hadn’t been exposed to the elements long.

Michael found himself climbing before he really thought about what he was doing. His feet caught the bark and gripped tight, his hands finding every available branch. In less than a minute, he was twenty-five feet above the ground, obscured by the autumn-darkened branches of the surrounding trees.

He had a perfect view of Adam’s apartment.

And he had a comfortable seat, right in the crook of two strong branches.

He pulled out his phone and aimed the camera app at where he’d been sitting. It was an almost identical match to the picture he’d received.

Gotcha.

Well, not really. The tree was empty now, the dead limbs offering no information. The air was silent up here, too, no breeze moving through the branches. Michael watched his breath fog for a while, thinking.

A Guide might be smart enough to climb a dead tree to avoid his notice. He’d have to ask Hunter if it would occur to him. An Earth Elemental definitely would.

Michael only knew one other Earth Elemental: Seth Ramsey. Tyler’s best friend.

Seth and Tyler were totally the type to do something like this to f**k with him. They didn’t necessarily have to be behind the fires in the Merrick neighborhood—they could have heard what had happened and known it was an opportunity to kick him when he was down.

But . . . how would they know to find him here?

Had they followed him? It was possible. Not likely—but not unlikely either.

Despite everything, Michael felt a twinge of disappointment. He’d thought he and Tyler had grown past that and found some middle ground. They’d never be friends, but he didn’t hate the guy anymore.

Maybe he’d found a reason to renew that hate.

CHAPTER 9

Michael heard a shout and bolted upright. For an instant, he was completely disoriented. He didn’t recognize these walls, this bedroom, this quilt.

Then he remembered all of it. The fires. Adam’s apartment.

The threatening messages. The photo from the trees.

Another shout, more muffled. It sounded like someone was right outside the window.

Michael flung the blanket aside and staggered to his feet. Weak light filtered through the window blinds. He grabbed at the slats and pulled open a gap large enough to look through.

Just in time to see Gabriel tackle Chris hard enough to knock him to the ground.

Michael remembered chasing Chris through the woods. What the hell was—

Oh. Wait. They were laughing. An orange Nerf football lay in the grass a few feet away. Gabriel was letting Chris up. Nick retrieved the ball and pointed at something out of sight.

They were playing.

At once, Michael was simultaneously furious and terrified.

Playing. Outside, in full view of . . . whoever.

He grabbed his jeans from the floor and jerked them on, fighting with the button as he yanked the bedroom door open.

Hunter was sitting alone at the tiny kitchen table. He looked up in alarm as Michael burst out of the room. “You okay?”