Twenty minutes later, home was just a few blocks away, and I was wishing for a coat. I’d tried to clean myself up, but had only made the mess worse. Between the torn tank top and the blood drying in my hair, I looked like a battered teenager. Only a few people passed me on the street, but my appearance stood out enough to be noticed, even in the dark.

Relief flooded through me when I saw the porch light at Maggie’s.

Almost there.

The iron gate creaked slightly as I slipped through. Poor William. He would need comfort and to be tucked in bed with soft words. My earlier manner with him had been harsh and unfair. None of this was his fault.

The path to the door seemed endless, and then something soft and tentative touched my mind. My legs froze. I looked up wildly.

Wade sat on the front stairs, gazing out through a pair of tired eyes, his white-blond hair hanging in messy tufts.

Neither one of us moved or spoke for a full minute.

“What happened to you?” he finally asked. “Are you hurt?”

“No. I’m . . . No.”

He was wearing a pair of torn jeans and a faded Colorado State sweatshirt.

“Is that your blood?”

“What are you doing here?” I asked, ignoring his question.

Maybe it had always been there, but that moment was the first time I noticed a sadness etched in Wade’s face. He’d led a strange life so far, colored by bizarre abilities he’d never asked for. Rather like me. And maybe it was because my world felt so alone, but he looked familiar. His serious, narrow countenance was an almost welcome sight. I walked up toward the porch and sat down on the stair below him— instinctive deference—not caring what he thought of the blood and ripped tank.

“Dominick came to my room this morning, a few hours after you left,” he said softly. “We had a talk . . . that turned into an argument.”

“About me?”

“He said a lot of crazy things about you. I had to see you again.”

What did he want? Was he here to prove Dominick wrong? If so, he would have a rude awakening. Maybe he should know the truth. So far I hadn’t used my gift on him, but in his present state of mind, seducing him into a protective position wouldn’t be too difficult.

“Wade, I’m a mess. Do you want to come inside?”

His brow creased in uncertainty. I had a pretty good idea what Dominick told him. But then a question struck me.

“How did you know where to find me?”

“I saw pictures in your head the night your friend died. I drove around until I found the right neighborhood.”

“You didn’t tell anyone else, did you?”

He winced. “What do you think I am? Didn’t I show you last night that I could be . . .” He trailed off for a few seconds, and then his expression tightened and he nearly shouted, “I’m trapped! I quit my job and my best friend’s a stranger. You’re the only one with answers, but you’re just sitting here without a scratch . . . covered in blood . . . worried about yourself!”

Okay, that did it. His anger unsettled me, and I immediately focused on his need to protect. Staring at a discolored stone on the stairs, I crossed my arms as though cold and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Worked like a charm.

“Eleisha.” His expression instantly melted to regret. He dropped down on the step beside me and pulled my head into his chest. I let him touch me because William and I needed someone on our side, or that’s what I kept telling myself. Wade’s skin felt warm through his thick sweatshirt, and his fingers were soft on the back of my hair.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said. “But there’s no one else left. I can’t see into Dom’s head. Everything’s gone dark.”

“Come inside with me. You need to meet someone.”

“Who?”

“The other half of the ‘us’ I mentioned in your room last night. The someone I bought the second plane ticket for. But whatever you do, don’t try to read his mind. At least not yet.”

Whatever Dom had told him encompassed the ugly aspects of my kind. I didn’t have a choice anymore about showing secrets to Wade. It was either tell him or kill him, and he didn’t deserve to die.

He followed me cautiously into the front foyer of Maggie’s house—I still thought of it as Maggie’s house.

“William,” I called. “Where are you?”

Wade’s head turned at the sound of shuffling feet. Sweet William wandered out of the living room in his burgundy smoking jacket and wrinkled trousers. By the frightened look on his face, he remembered my earlier harsh manner.

“Chess game’s set up,” he mumbled. “Won’t cheat for Maggie.”

“Not tonight. We have company.”

He peered out into the foyer. “Someone we know? Julian?”

“No, this is Wade. He’s a new guest.”

Glimpses of long-forgotten pleasantries came over William. He shuffled forward, right hand extended. “So pleased to meet you. Sorry Katherine’s not here. She sets a fine table.”

Wade’s reaction didn’t surprise me. Maybe that’s why I let him in. Anyone else would have pulled back in revulsion at William’s pale, corpselike visage.

“Glad to meet you,” he answered politely, shaking William’s shriveled hand. “Don’t worry about the table. I had a late supper.”

“Fine, fine. Come to the fire for brandy?”

“Later,” I put in. “Wade and I need to discuss some business. You go on ahead, and we’ll join you in a while.”

William smiled, pleased that he had handled himself so well, earlier fears forgotten. “I’ll stoke up the fire.”

Leading Wade down the hall, I whispered, “That’s one of the ‘killers’ Dominick is hunting. Quite dangerous, don’t you think?”

For some reason, I wanted him to see Maggie’s bedroom. The opinions of mortals mattered little to me, but he needed to see, to feel, what Dominick had wasted, had destroyed.

“Jesus,” he murmured, looking around. “Did you do this?”

“Me? No, I could never do anything like this. I wouldn’t even think about it. This is . . . was Maggie’s room.”

“Your friend?”

“Yes.”

“She was beautiful.”

That pleased me. “Yes, she was. But you should have seen her back in—”

“In?”

“Do you trust me?”

“Should I?”

“You don’t know how hard this is for me or what you’re dealing with. But if I show you what happened, if I show you how all this began, will you trust me?”

His face twisted in indecision, and I found him handsome. He wasn’t a fool. “I don’t know,” he answered. “But if you even try to help me, I promise to help you.”

“Sit down, on the carpet, like we did in your motel room.”

He’d been so eager to show me his past, to share it with someone, anyone. I had been blind to his feelings because of my own fear at the time. Now his emotions seemed clear. I understood. For so long my past had been buried in dirty, black secrets.

When Wade sat down on the floor by Maggie’s glorious bed, I reached out and grasped two of his fingers. Not to seduce him, not to trick him into protecting us, but just to help him connect.

Then I looked up into his eyes and dropped the shield covering my thoughts. This is what he saw.