Prologue

HAYDEN

PAST, AGE ELEVEN

The flashlight beam shifted against my makeshift tent, and I reached out to adjust it, pulling the blankets higher over my head. Any glimmer of light from under my door, and my parents would be in here in seconds to confiscate my book.

I rolled my lips over my teeth as I glanced at my watch. Eleven-forty-three. I’d turn out the light at midnight. But, for now, Nancy Drew had a mystery to solve, and we were just getting to the good part.

Voices sounded from downstairs, and I frowned. My parents were night owls, but they were usually quiet as mice. The only way I knew they stayed up was that I’d been caught reading more times than I could count.

Footsteps pounded on the stairs, and my eyebrows pulled together. What the heck was going on?

My bedroom door was wrenched open. “Hayden!”

My mom’s single word was part whisper, part yell. I threw the covers off myself, and my flashlight tumbled to the mattress.

“Mom?”

Her violet eyes looked wild as the light from the hallway hit them. The same violet eyes that she’d given to me. She grabbed my hand and tugged me out of bed. “Hurry.”

“What’s going on?”

My father shouted something from downstairs in a language I didn’t recognize, and Mom’s face went pale. We shared our fair complexion, but this was a sickly hue. One I’d only seen the time she’d accidentally sliced her finger while cutting carrots. She’d never liked the sight of blood.

Mom tugged me into the hallway and toward their bedroom.

“Mom?” I croaked.

She pulled me into their small closet and tugged a cedar chest into the middle of the space. Climbing on top of the chest, she pushed on a panel in the ceiling. I blinked a few times. I didn’t even know there was an attic in this house, let alone a door in the ceiling.

My mom’s gaze locked with mine, and her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “I’m going to lift you up, and you’ll shut the door behind you. Don’t move, and don’t make a sound. Whatever you hear, don’t come out.”

My own eyes filled with tears. “What’s happening?”

She hauled me up onto the chest and hugged me tight. “I love you more than you’ll ever know. You’re my miracle.”

My tears came faster. “Mom—”

A bang sounded downstairs, and my mom jerked.

“Up. Now,” she ordered as she lifted.

My mom had always been strong, but tonight, it was as if I weighed no more than a feather. I grabbed hold of the opening and hoisted myself up. “You come, too,” I told her.

She shook her head, blonde hair cascading around her shoulders. “I need to help your dad. Remember, don’t come out no matter what you hear. Not until the police are here. Listen for the sirens.”

My tears fell, one landing on my mom’s cheek, but she didn’t move to wipe it away. “Don’t leave me.”

Pain streaked across her face. “Never. I’m always with you. Always here.” She placed a hand over her heart.

Another noise came from downstairs, one that almost sounded like an explosion.

Mom jumped down from the chest, shoving it back against the wall. “Close the door, Hayden.”

I didn’t move for a moment. Couldn’t.

“Please,” she begged.

It was the desperation in her voice that had me moving. I hefted the door closed. But just before it latched, I heard her whisper, “Love you forever.”

The darkness swirled around me, choking. As if its tendrils were reaching right into my throat. Why hadn’t I grabbed my flashlight? Anything to fight it off.

Muffled shouts sounded, and then my mother yelled. A deeper voice snarled something in a language I didn’t recognize. There was a crackle and a bang.

I jumped, then tried to grip the rough wood floor. Splinters dug into my palms, but the pain was a welcome distraction.

My heart thudded against my ribs. The beat of it radiated through my body, the pulse so loud it was deafening.

“Càit a bheil a' bhana-phrionnsa?” the deep voice snarled.

My mom snapped something back in that same unfamiliar language. I’d never heard it before. Not once. How was it possible that my parents spoke an entirely different language and I didn’t know it?

“Bana-phrionnsa!” the man yelled. The force of his voice was so loud I swore it made the walls shake. “Where is she?”

“You’ll never have her,” my mom screamed back.

There was silence for a moment and then a scream. My mother’s scream.

My fingers flew to the latch on the door as my mom’s words filled my head. “Whatever you hear, don’t come out.”

But she’d screamed. It sounded like one of pain. I had to help.

The man spoke in that same rapid-fire language. Another deep voice spoke back, but I didn’t hear my mother’s voice at all, my father’s either.

Sirens sounded in the distance, and a muttered curse filled the air. It was quickly followed by heavy footsteps.

“I checked all the bedrooms. The closets. The basement. She’s nowhere,” a younger voice said.

“A little girl doesn’t just disappear,” the man snarled.

“They might have had her run,” the younger voice replied. “We need to move. The cops are coming.”

“I want the woods searched. I won’t let her slip through my fingers. Not again.”

“Yes, alpha,” the younger voice said.

There were footsteps again as the sirens grew steadily louder, but no more noise came from within the room. My fingers tightened around the door latch. I couldn’t wait a second longer. I hauled it open and peered out.

Light streamed in from my parents’ bedroom, but I couldn’t make out anything other than the closet.

Scooting to the edge of the opening, I gripped the side and let myself slide out. Hanging from the attic space, I glanced down. It was only about a three-foot drop. I just hoped those men weren’t present to hear it.

I released my hold.

My bare feet hit the carpet, and I landed with an oomph. The second I did, my head lifted, and I pushed to my feet. But I didn’t make it more than three steps before I froze.

“No.” I didn’t recognize the voice, even though I felt it come from me. It was strangled, inhuman.

My feet propelled me forward, but I fell to my knees. Into a pool of blood. It wasn’t bright red like in the movies. It was deeper. Almost closer to brown. And it spilled out of my mother, surrounding her.

Her violet eyes were open, unblinking.

“Mom,” I croaked, my hands hovering over her. What did I do? How did I help?

There was a hole in her chest. Right over where her heart should’ve been.

I placed my hands over it as if I could somehow will the blood she needed back into her body. As if I could save her.

But I couldn’t. And I couldn’t save myself either.

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