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Safe.

Alive. Safe. Alive. Safe. No matter how many times he thought it, it didn’t feel true. Didn’t feel good enough.

“Are you okay?” she whispered.

He nodded. “Yeah.” He used the heel of his other palm to wipe more sweat off his forehead.

“Look, Darien,” Finn began. They weren’t far from the front entrance now. “If you know anything that might help us with what’s going on in Ker?—”

“Was this your plan all along?” he whisper-shouted. “Be the good cop who comes in afterward and gets me talking?” It would be so like Finn to do something shitty like that, wouldn’t it?

“Not exactly.” Finn resigned with a sigh. “Forget what I said—we’ll talk another time.” He hurried ahead to hold the door.

In your dreams,Darien thought.

He walked out behind Loren, their hands still joined?—

And skidded to a halt, his lungs emptying with shock. “No way,” he breathed.

Waiting for them in the parking lot, his tall form leaning against the front of a white sports car, was Roark Bright.

Loren’s mouth fell open. “Roark?”

76

Ker to Witheredge State-line

“Pax,”Roman began, speaking evenly as two cops approached the car, muffled voices spitting through their radios. His throat felt too narrow, as if a hand were strangling him, his heart thumping so hard his chest burned. “I’m going to need you to stay calm. I’m going to need you to stay calm—and trust me. Can you do that?”

He glanced at Pax in the rear-view. The boy was holding himself ramrod straight, his arms locked around Chance’s fuzzy neck.

“Shay?” Roman inquired. He didn’t have to say his question out loud—she already knew what he was asking.

“I can’t,” she responded with a hoarse whisper. “It won’t last long enough. And if they see…”

Then the whole world would know, and the wrong people could get a hold of her and exploit her for her rare gift. Roman would never ask that of her—not unless the odds were one hundred percent in their favor.

This roadblock… All these cops... This was all because ofthem,he knew. Whether a roadblock was standard procedure for locating a missing child, or if Donovan himself had specificallyarranged for this after learning of their whereabouts last night, Roman had no idea. It made no difference, though.

This was the end.

But he’d do it all over again, if given the chance. Would still choose to take Pax with him when fleeing Yveswich. In no world would he have willingly left Paxton alone with their father. He hadn’t done it when he’d turned eighteen, and he still wouldn’t do it now, at twenty-seven.

“No matter what happens,” he began. One officer was speaking into the small mic clipped onto his vest upon seeing their license plate number, the other heading for the driver’s-side door. “It’s going to be okay,” he concluded, but his throat constricted like a boa.

A knuckle rapped against his window.

Chance barked.

The other officer knocked on Shay’s side. “Open up.” Wrapped tightly around his hand was a spirit leash, his K-9 Familiar frantically sniffing the car?—

The dog reared up and started barking. Spit strung between its jaws and flew through the air, the glowing metal links of its leash snapping taut as it lunged forward, standing on hind legs.

Chance barked in response.

“Roman, what’s happening?” Paxton croaked, clutching Chance against his chest. “What do they want with us?” His puppy barked and barked?—

“Pax, I need to know that you can keep it together,” Roman said firmly, holding Pax’s stare in the rear-view mirror.