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“But he promised! He said he wouldn’t lay a hand on me!”

“No. When I look back on it now, he didn’t actually say that. He chose his words very carefully. He promised that
no Elder
would touch you. And he’s not an Elder.”

“So you’re saying he didn’t actually lie?”

“Not really.” They approached their locker. “If you’d been killed by that were-cougar, it would have looked like some random animal attack. No one could have traced it to him. He said what he needed to say to convince me to leave, so he could get to you without my protection.”

“What an asshole.”

“That’s an understatement. You wondered how I could trust him. I wish I had listened to you.” Alec pulled open their locker and took out the black lockbox from within. “Before he led you up the hill, he drugged me and tied me up in the locker room.”

“Oh my God!” Claire said, shocked, as they moved to a nearby bench. “How did you get away?”

“An adrenaline shot. I have another box like this in my gym locker.”

Alec rested his hand on the box, which emitted an audible click as it unlocked. Claire caught her breath in anticipation. Finally, she was going to see what was inside.

It was the last thing she’d expected. The top tray was like a first aid kit, filled with neatly organized supplies, including a syringe and several bottles of clear liquid. Alec lifted the tray and set it on the bench between them, exposing what lay below: various bundles of international currency and passports from a variety of foreign countries.

“Wow,” Claire breathed in awe. “Who would have thought that someone like you would actually need a passport?”

Alec tore off his shredded jacket and shirt. “I don’t have wings to fly on my own. I keep a bunch of these boxes, in case I need to skip town at a moment’s notice from wherever I am.” He glanced at her intensely. “I didn’t want to take anything from my lockers when I left—any more than I could bring myself to report in.”

At the look in his eyes, all the blood pumping to her heart seemed to change direction as it rose in a hot flush to her face. “You didn’t report in?” she repeated breathlessly.

“Not yet.”

Claire swallowed hard, uncertain what this would mean for his future—for
their
future, if they even had one. The thought so distracted her that she almost missed his next soft request.

“Help me, would you?” He handed her several packets of sterile gauze pads and a roll of adhesive tape, then held a pad over his largest wound, the one on his bicep. “And work fast—we don’t have a lot of time.”

With shaking fingers, Claire taped the pad in place, then moved on to bandage the worst gashes on Alec’s chest, back, shoulders, and stomach. As she worked, she couldn’t help but be aware of the beauty of his half-naked, muscular body. Her pulse beat so loudly in her ears, she had a hard time hearing what he was saying.

“I’m beginning to think that Vincent’s been doing this kind of thing for years,” Alec muttered.

“What kind of thing?”

“He routinely assesses Nephilim of all ages who are under suspicion of breaking laws. There have been countless incidents where he’s reported them to be harmless—and then weeks or months later, they’d conveniently turn up dead in some accident.”

“I guess he couldn’t claim that every single one of the Nephilim he was assigned to had turned.”

“Precisely. And he has more reason to take you out than anyone he’s ever encountered.”

“Because I’m a Halfblood.”

Alec nodded, rolling up his pants leg to reveal a deep bite wound on his left calf. “And because you’ve been evading him ever since your birth. I think Vincent takes that as a personal affront. Plus, he said your father tried to kill him.”

Claire bandaged the leg wound. Solemnly, her entire frame tense with apprehension, she said, “What happens now? Vincent’s still out there. He’s going to discover that the cougar is dead and I’m not. What should I do?”

“You and your mother have to disappear before he finds out. Go somewhere—anywhere—and stay under an assumed name.”

“How long would we have to stay away?”

Alec gingerly slipped his ripped, bloody shirt back on. “I don’t know. As long as it takes for me to find Vincent and bring him down.”

“Bring him down?” Claire repeated, alarmed. “You mean
kill
him?”

“He’s left me no choice. You’ll never be safe until Vincent’s dead.”

“He’s a master of illusion, Alec. That could take weeks. Or months. Or years!”

“It has to be done.”

“But Alec … what if the Elders find out that you killed him?”

“I’ll just have to hope that they don’t—or find some way to explain what’s going on without turning myself in.”

Alec’s last four words reverberated in Claire’s brain.
Without turning myself in
. So Alec intended to stay AWOL! A wave of hope spiraled through her chest, wrapping itself around her panic. If Vincent was out of the way, was there a chance she and Alec could still be together?

“Okay,” she responded quickly, “but you don’t have to do this by yourself, Alec. We can get Helena to help us. Brian and I found her—she’s stuck in a hospital in the city.”

“I wondered where she was.”

“I talked to her. She’s an
Elder
. She can predict everything that I’m facing, and tell us what Vincent’s next move is. Can’t we use that somehow?”

Alec closed the lockbox and stood up, deep in thought. “We can try. But it’s late. We won’t be able to see Helena until tomorrow morning. And if you’re dead before sunrise, her predictions won’t do you much good.”

Claire stared glumly at her gloved hands, which—after tending to Alec’s wounds—were truly bloodstained now, as was her dress. “I guess you’re right.”

Alec stowed the black box in their locker and shut it firmly. “We need to get you and your mother someplace where Vincent can’t find you. Now.
This instant
.”

“What do I tell everyone downstairs? They must be wondering what’s happened to me.”

“You can explain it all later. You can’t risk going down to the gym, Claire. Vincent might still be there, posing as Patterson, waiting for someone to find your body on this hill. Let him think you’re dead. It’ll buy us some time.”

Claire heaved a frustrated sigh, knowing that Neil was going to hate her for disappearing without a word. And Erica and Brian would be sick with worry when they couldn’t find her.

Alec helped Claire to her feet, his jaw tightening. “Come on. Let’s go pick up your mom.”

thirty-six

A
lec parked at the curb in front of Claire’s complex, where he traded his shredded suit jacket for his combat vest and leather jacket, then hauled his guitar case out of the trunk and slung it over his shoulder.

“What are you bringing that for?” Claire asked, discarding her ruined gloves.

“Insurance.”

“Do you mind waiting out here for one second while I brace my mom for what you’re going to tell her?” Claire asked as they rushed across the courtyard toward her apartment.

“Fine.”

Claire unlocked her front door and hurried in. She’d only just stepped into the entryway, the door still ajar, when she caught sight of her mom on the couch. She wasn’t alone. There was a man with her. And they were kissing.

Claire froze, shocked and mortified. “Mom?!”

Her mother broke from the embrace and instantly leapt to her feet, her face turning red. “Claire! You’re back already? I didn’t—” She broke off, flustered.

The man turned to face her.

It was Mr. Patterson
.

Claire’s stomach convulsed with fear, disgust, and terror. Which Mr. Patterson was this? Was it the
real
Patterson? Her teacher?
Making out with her mother?

Or was it Vincent?
Already here. In her home. With all of them at his mercy.

Frantically, she tried to remember what the imposter had been wearing earlier that evening. She had no idea.

Whoever it was, he seemed to be just as surprised to see her as she was to see him.

“Mom! What are you doing?” Claire blurted.

Her mother looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry, honey. I thought you were still at the dance. This is Dennis. I told you about him.”

“You’ve been dating
my history teacher
?” Claire cried, still uncertain.

Her mother’s blush deepened. “I didn’t know he was your teacher when I first met him. And then I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“I’m sorry, Miss Brennan.” Mr. Patterson quickly stood. “We thought you might find it … awkward if you knew.”

Claire stared at the pair in confusion.
Who was this man?
His gentle words of apology didn’t match up with the sudden flash of anger in his eyes—anger that Vincent would certainly feel on seeing that she had survived the were-cougar’s attack.

“Mom, get away from him,” Claire cried, hoping her voice would reach Alec. “That’s not Mr. Patterson. It’s Vincent!”

“Who?”

“I told you! He’s the Grigori who—”

With a crash, the front door behind Claire slammed fully open as Alec barreled through it in a blur, pinning Mr. Patterson to the wall with a dagger to his throat.

“What are you doing?” Claire’s mom screamed at Alec.

Mr. Patterson’s surprised expression turned to a wolfish smirk. “This makes more sense.” He studied Alec calmly, as if ignoring the blade at his throat. “I wondered how she escaped without a scratch. You’re heartier than I thought.”

“You should’ve been honest with me from the beginning,” Alec spat out with devastating calm. “Then I wouldn’t have to kill you.”

“No.” Mr. Patterson chuckled. “No matter what, we would’ve ended up here.”

“Take your hands off him!” Claire’s mom shouted.

“Mom,” Claire cried urgently. “You don’t understand!”

Before their eyes, the image of Mr. Patterson flickered and was replaced by Vincent.

Claire’s mom jerked back with a scream.

Vincent’s eyes locked with Alec’s. “Do you really have the stones to kill me, boy? After everything I’ve done for you and your parents?”

“You’ve made all that meaningless now.” Alec’s eyes blazed with a fury Claire had never seen before.

Just as Alec’s blade began to pierce the skin of Vincent’s throat, the entire apartment shook as if rocked by a massive earthquake. Claire stumbled back a step, and Alec, in surprise, did the same. The earth beneath them rumbled. A horrible, buzzing sound assailed her ears, growing louder every second.

Claire gasped as a swarm of locusts burst in through the front doorway, circling Alec in a frenzy. His dagger fell from his hands as he batted away the flying horde. In seconds, to Claire’s horror, the entire room was alive with the flapping insects. She and her mom ducked and covered their faces with one hand, trying to swat at them with the other.

Claire heard Vincent’s chuckle mingling with the terrible hum of the swarm. Eyes still covered, she put her hand down to steady herself. But instead of carpet, she felt hot sand. Stunned, she looked around to find they were in the middle of an endless desert. A strong wind whipped past her ears, drowning out the buzzing of the locusts.