Copyright © 2015 by Bethany Frenette
Cover photograph © 2015 by Shutterstock
Cover design by Christian Fuenfhausen
Designed by Marci Senders
All rights reserved. Published by Hyperion, an imprint of Disney Book Group. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher. For information address Hyperion, 125 West End Avenue, New York, New York 10023.
ISBN 978-1-4231-9028-8
Visit www.hyperionteens.com
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Acknowledgments
About the Author
For my dad, who taught me a lot about imagination (and always encouraged me to use mine)
In the deepening twilight that fell across the city, a single star burned red.
At first glance, I thought it was a plane. I watched it a moment, waiting for it to flash and continue its steady course overhead, tracing a path above the rise of buildings around us. But it didn’t blink. It didn’t flicker or fade. The light remained, a tiny crimson flame in a sky that was otherwise blue and blank.
On the sidewalk ahead, Tink took a few steps forward and then swung back to face me. She tilted her head, giving me a quizzical look. “Why are you stopping?”
I glanced up once more. The night was cloudless, the sky wide and empty against the glow of downtown lights. The star was gone, the little flame extinguished. “Did you see that?” I asked.
“Not again,” Tink groaned. She scanned the street, turning in a slow circle with her hands set on her hips. Her eyebrows lifted. “What am I supposed to be seeing here? A squirrel? Another cat beneath a car?”
Three blocks back, I’d made her stop so I could investigate a pair of eyes gleaming out from between the wheels of a parked Jeep. When I’d dropped into a crouch and reached my hand under the car, a cat had darted away with a series of hisses, then disappeared behind a fence.
I shrugged. “Hey, that could have been a Harrower.”
Tink fixed me with a blank stare.
“A small one,” I suggested.
She rolled her eyes. “I am beginning to regret bringing you with me.”
“You’re not the only one.” I paused again, searching the darkening blue above me. Between the roofs of buildings, I saw only sky. The red star—whatever it had actually been—did not reappear. “As thrilling as this is,” I continued, “I have to admit, I thought being a Guardian would be a bit more…glamorous.”
That wasn’t strictly true. Not anymore. When Tink had become a Guardian and I hadn’t, I’d been more than a little jealous—but over the past several months, I’d also seen enough of demons to know that being called to fight them wasn’t all about powers, or about defending the helpless. It wasn’t all superheroes and secrets. Being a Guardian meant being a protector, but it also meant pain. It meant death. I knew that. I had witnessed death. I had killed. And even before that, my mother had spent countless hours warning me of the dangers that came along with the calling.
But what no one had bothered to mention was the one thing I might actually have listened to. As it turned out? Spending Saturday nights on patrol was pretty boring.
“Glamorous,” Tink repeated, wrinkling her nose as she looked at me.
“Exciting?” I tried.
“You want us to get attacked?”
“Well, no,” I said. Though I hadn’t run across any demons in the past several weeks, I wasn’t in any particular rush to change that.
“Because I am perfectly happy being bored,” Tink said. “As far as I’m concerned, all the Harrowers can just crawl their way back Beneath and stay there.” She marched ahead, moving toward the end of the block.
I hurried to catch up with her. The street was quiet, cluttered with parked cars and apartment buildings crowded closely together. The occasional tree lent the avenue a hint of green. In the hush, I heard strains of music from an open window. Yellow light filtered out through screens and curtains. The air was hot and sticky, and so thick we might as well have been swimming. When a mosquito landed on my arm, I slapped at it, leaving a tiny reddish smear that I wiped on Tink’s shoulder when she wasn’t looking.
We’d been walking the outer edge of downtown Minneapolis for over two hours, and so far our only encounters—aside from the cat—had been a group of preteen boys shouting lewd comments, a dog with its head stuck in a trash can, and a shirtless man who had come lurching out of an alley toward us, his chest red with sunburn. The shirtless man had been startling enough that Tink had jumped and screamed, but it turned out to just be some drunk guy who wanted a light for his cigarette. Tink’s shriek had scared him, and he’d lurched away again.
Tink was still rather embarrassed by the incident. As we turned the street corner, she crossed her arms over her chest and said, “Why do smokers always go around asking for a light, anyway? Shouldn’t they have a lighter?”
“Maybe he left it wherever he left his shirt.”
She sighed. “See? I told you I’m not cut out for this. If that guy had been a Harrower, I’d probably have peed my pants.”
“At least no one would be able to tell,” I said. Tink had chosen to dress all in black: long-sleeved T-shirt, pants, even her shoes and socks. Since Guardians weren’t bothered by extremes in temperature—rather handy, given Minnesota’s weather—she appeared perfectly comfortable, while I was sweating in my shorts and tank top. I plucked at her sleeve. “You don’t think this makes us look just the teensiest bit suspicious?”
“Your mom runs around the Cities in a hoodie with a giant white star on the back,” Tink pointed out.
“Yeah, but Mom is…Mom.” Though I supposed if Tink was going to be a teenage superhero, she might as well look the part. “You could at least be a bit more creative,” I added. “Maybe we should come up with a costume for you, now that you’re an official Guardian. You know, something that doesn’t scream I’m here to steal all your valuables and murder you in your sleep.” Given Tink’s fondness for glitter, we could just find her a wand and staple some wings to her back.
Before I could suggest this, however, she aimed a glower at me. “First of all, kindly remember that I am now capable of kicking your ass. Second, I am not official. This is just a trial run.”
Her fifth trial run, to be exact. She’d been on patrol before—twice with her trainer, Camille, and twice with Mr. Alvarez, the leader of the Guardians. They’d both been so overbearing that she swore the only way she’d continue was if they let her fly free. But not too free, as it turned out, since she’d roped me into coming along with her. Mom hadn’t been thrilled with the idea of me going on patrol, but both she and Mr. Alvarez had approved the plan.
“You’re going to have to make a decision sooner or later,” I said. “Unless you plan to be on trial runs until you’re sixty.”
“I don’t know. That might increase the odds of me living to sixty.”
I didn’t have a response for that. Being a Guardian was dangerous—and nothing I said would change that. Especially since I suspected
the only reason Mr. Alvarez had allowed a half-trained Guardian and an uncalled Amplifier to patrol on their own was my boyfriend, Leon. Leon was my Guardian; he knew whenever I was in trouble. If Tink and I ran into any problems—be they human or Harrower—Leon would sense it, and he’d swoop in to save the day.
He’d offered to come with us tonight, but Tink said she refused to be a third wheel on her own patrol. Instead, Leon was sitting at home, finishing up homework for one of the summer courses he was taking.
At least, he was doing that in theory. In reality, he was mostly just texting me.
Tink shot me an annoyed look when my phone buzzed again. “That’s like the six hundredth time he’s texted you,” she said.
Admittedly, I had lost count, but that number sounded a bit high. I shrugged. “He’s worried.”
“Why? Doesn’t he have some inner Guardian alarm system that alerts him if any danger crosses your path? I thought you told him to stop being so overprotective. Isn’t that the point of all the training you’ve been doing?”
“Yeah, well, he’s still working on that.” Because Leon had been called to guard me, his primary instinct was to keep me from harm—usually by teleporting me away at the first sign of danger. But since I’d developed the ability to amplify powers, I was no longer quite so vulnerable. We’d been training together for the past few months, though we hadn’t had much chance to put it into practice.
“Allow me.” Tink snatched the phone out of my hands and tapped out a response. Still not dead. Will notify you if status changes.
I laughed. “Wow, punctuation and everything.”
“I’m just helping you maintain a healthy relationship by reminding him that you are the one in charge.”
I shook my head. Tink’s idea of a healthy relationship involved a lot more drama than mine did. Since her own boyfriend, Greg, was spending the next two months with his grandparents in Denmark, their on-again off-again relationship was currently off. According to Tink, anyway. I’m just saving him from having to dump me again when he meets some tall, gorgeous Danish girl with perfect hair and actual breasts, she’d told me. But she’d also sworn off boys for the rest of the summer, so I figured she was hoping he’d return to her, after all. I wasn’t certain how she planned to explain her new Guardian activities to him, if they did get back together—but knowing Tink, the thought of leading a double life probably appealed to her.
We turned another corner, where the arrangement of cars was less dense. Nearby, a bicycle lay on its side in a stretch of overgrown grass. Some kids had drawn a hopscotch court on the sidewalk in green and pink chalk, along with a few crooked hearts and the blurred letters of what had once been a name. Tink took out her phone, scanning the directions she’d typed on it. “Three more blocks this way, then we head back the other direction,” she said.
“Is this the route you took before?”
“No. Ryan switches up the patrols every night so we don’t look like a bunch of stalkers.”
“Since when is it Ryan instead of Mr. Alvarez?”
She made a face. “Since I look like an idiot when I’m the only Guardian who calls him Mr. Alvarez.”
Or maybe since he’d talked to her about her father, I guessed. Tink had long believed that her father had betrayed the Kin—until Mr. Alvarez set the story straight.
I was about to respond when a sudden shift of light from down the block caught my attention.
At first, all I saw was a silhouette: the darkened outline of a figure turned away; the soft sway of long hair; the slope of a shoulder; a shadow taking shape. Then there was movement. A single step, and then another. Someone crept slowly across the sidewalk toward us, and that someone wasn’t human. Knowing slid into my senses. I felt a familiar chill up and down my spine. Harrower.
I caught Tink by the arm, pulling her to me. “Stop.”
She froze, her body tensing. We stared, wordless, as the demon took another shuffling step forward.
Sound and color died out around us. The hush in the street became a hush in the world. Everything felt abruptly distant—the parked cars, the houses, the whine of insects, the heavy, heat-glazed sky. Harrowers confused perceptions, so I reminded myself to focus. To see. I concentrated on what was solid, what was real. The thin fabric of Tink’s sleeve. The sidewalk beneath me.
I watched the demon, studying her. She was wearing her human skin. From far away, she appeared to be only a girl. Her face was a pale oval, her hair a shock of red. Like Susannah, I thought. Susannah, who had smiled as she killed her way through the Cities in her search for the Remnant. For a second my heart seemed to stop. But Susannah was dead, I told myself—dead at my own hands. This girl, this demon, was not her.
I clenched a fist, glancing at Tink. She hadn’t moved since she’d seen the Harrower. I wasn’t even certain she was still breathing. Her lips were parted slightly, and her own hands were slack at her sides, no Guardian lights flaring beneath her fingertips.
“We need to do something,” I whispered, shaking her lightly. At the end of the block, the Harrower continued inching toward us. Her red hair swung as she moved.
Tink edged backward, escaping my grip, and then turned toward me. Her eyes were huge. “This is totally your fault.”
“What? Why?”
“You wanted something exciting to happen.”
“So? I’d also like a million dollars to drop into my lap, but I don’t see any money falling from the sky, do you?”
“That is wishful thinking. This was tempting fate.”
If I hadn’t been worried about the Harrower, I would have rolled my eyes. “Can you maybe blame me later? Like after we take care of the demon?”
Tink hesitated. She glanced down at her left hand, where the first hint of colors began to shine under her skin, thin light twining in summer yellow and pale violet. She cradled her arm against her. “Do you think we could reason with her?”
I looked down the sidewalk. The demon was still some distance away, but that distance was closing step by step. “You want to reason with a Harrower? How?”
“You know…she goes back Beneath, we don’t fight, no one has to get hurt.”
“I don’t think she’s going to like that plan.”
Closer now, I could see the demon’s expression. She was grinning at us, her mouth wide, red teeth gleaming. Her human disguise was flawed. Here and there, a trace of silver could be seen under her flesh. Her eyes were milky and flat.
Flickers of Knowing pulsed through me. I could read this demon easily, whether or not I wished to—but I sensed none of the coldness or cunning I’d felt from other Harrowers. Nothing even akin to conscious thought. She was all images, quick flashes of noise and color. I caught only impressions: a blood-streaked sky, the click of talons. The hot hiss of breath between snapping jaws. Scales. Saliva. There was hate within this Harrower, but no focus or intent. She seemed almost feral.
Tink was watching her, too. The glow of light within her wrist was bright now, but she was trembling. Her slim shoulders quivered. “Oh, God,” she breathed. “Why did I ever agree to do this?”
“We’ll be all right,” I said. “I’ll help you. I’ve been training with Leon, using my Amplification.”
She shook her head. “No. We should run.”
“We can do this.”
“We can’t.”
Something in her voice gave me pause. “Tink?”
“There’s another one behind us.”
I spun around. Tink didn’t have a Knowing, but Guardians could sense Harrowers, and she had sensed this one. This demon was farther away, but it was moving faster. And it wore no human disguise, no flesh to hide its form. Silver caught the light as it ran. Red claws tapped along the sidewalk, scraping and clacking.
“Okay,” I said, sucking in a breath. “That’s bad.”
I turned again. From the other direction, the girl was still slinking forward. She seemed to be murmuring something, whispering, urging—harsh rasping sounds that weren�
��t quite words but made my skin crawl.
Fear tightened my chest, and I fought against it. I grabbed Tink’s hand, dragging her with me as I stepped toward the second Harrower.
“This one,” I said.
“What?”
“Leon will handle the other.” He hadn’t appeared yet, but I had no doubt that he would soon. “Come on!”
As we ran, I began amplifying. I built a connection between Tink and me, starting small, with Knowing, with moments and memories that linked us. Briefly, I saw an image of Tink laughing, the shine of glitter in her pale hair. Another: her head bowed, her eyes closing. And then the bond was there, a slender thread expanding. Strength raced into me as I shared Tink’s powers. There was a surge of heat in my veins and along the skin of my arm. The glow in Tink’s hand intensified, vibrant colors spinning out in shades of amber and ochre, deep blue, emerald.
“Go for the throat,” I told her.
“I know.”
The demon reached us. It crouched low for a moment, and then its body whipped upright, one arm arcing outward. Claws slashed toward Tink. She shrieked and ducked backward, evading it. Through the bond between us, I felt her panic rising—but the Amplification held. As the demon lurched forward, I struck, blocking its attack and trying to catch its throat. But the demon was too fast. It jerked away, out of my grasp. My fingers closed on empty air. The demon lunged again.
Then Leon was beside me.
His arm wrapped around my waist. He twisted sideways, lifting me against him and pulling me out of the demon’s path. His free hand shot out, and he hit the demon with such force that it flew backward through the air. It went sprawling onto the concrete, then rolled onto all fours, watching us, wary.
The other Harrower was much nearer now. Her voice hissed out, loud in the quiet.
Leon set me to the ground, one hand on my shoulder, steadying me.
“I’m not hurt,” I said, looking up at him. “I promise. Tink and I have this one. You take the girl.”
For a second, I thought he would argue. Our eyes met, and I saw the worry in his gaze. Lightly, he touched my face.
“Guys?” Tink said from beside us. “Not the best time to be having a moment.”
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