“Yeah, well, it hasn’t.”
“Ian!”
“Look, Skye, Aunt Jo loves having us all over for dinner and being like a den mother or whatever. My family’s not like that, okay? I guess I’m just a little more private.”
I glared at him. “Don’t talk to me about private,” I said. “I have had to keep way too many secrets in my life.”
He sighed and tossed the zip-up bag with the money onto the counter.
“Okay, listen. I was kind of ashamed. Your parents died, Skye—all noble and trying to protect you and everything. They would have done anything for you. My dad ran out, just left without a word. I was so little, I don’t even remember what he looks like.”
“But aren’t there pictures? Didn’t your mom tell you anything?”
“My mom was so furious she hid everything from me. She refused to tell me anything about him. Who he was, what he did, why he left—until now. And only because I said I was old enough now that I could find him on my own, if I wanted. There’s still a lot she won’t tell me. But at least I got his name.”
I didn’t know what to say. I had been so focused on the mission, I’d barely stopped to think what this might be like for Ian. “I’m sorry,” I said softly. “I didn’t realize.”
“Yeah, well. I grew up hating him, thinking he was bad. Determined that I wouldn’t end up like him. I never wanted to find my dad.” We sat in silence for a minute. “You miss your parents every day, Skye. Before this whole thing started, I was pretty content not knowing anything, you know?”
“We don’t have to—”
“Yes,” he put his hand on my arm gently. “We do.”
“I can’t believe you would do this for me.”
“I would do a lot of things for you, Skye.” He winked at me. “Most things. But this? I’m doing this for all of us.” He finished clearing up, then turned back to me. “You know, maybe it’s not too late for me to want to find out the truth.”
When I pulled into my driveway, the light was on inside, spilling out in window shapes over the front lawn. It didn’t seem like so long ago that I would come home to find Asher leaning against the front door, legs crossed casually in front of him, smiling that slightly wicked smile of his, his eyes sparkling like dark stars. Something sliced through my chest, a pain so sharp and clear I had to put my hand on the car for support.
It seemed to me, all my life, that love was letting someone in, only to have them leave you.
I could hear voices coming from inside—Aunt Jo’s, and then Earth’s, and then Aaron’s deep baritone cutting in above the clinking of pots, the rushing of water in the kitchen sink.
Love was letting someone in, only to have them leave you.
I was getting too attached to Earth and Aaron. We needed him—both of them—to help us with the Uprising. But after that, would they stay? Maybe Earth was wrong, and loving someone wasn’t just like riding a bike. Or maybe you realized that riding bikes was fun when you were younger, but you’re a different person now.
I didn’t want them to leave. I wanted to have family dinners and weekend camping trips and big turkeys at Thanksgiving, and inside jokes that only the four of us would know.
I hesitated in the driveway, and instead of going in right away, I walked around the side of the house and climbed the trellis up to the roof. The sky was clear, midnight blue and cloudless. The moon shone bright as a lantern over the mountaintops.
Why had I seen Asher the night of the fire? What else was the Rebellion planning—and was he involved? The Rebellion was violent and unpredictable. And whether he wanted to be or not, Asher was one of them.
What if he’d turned his back on me?
What if Astaroth was right?
15 
The weekend opened up before us like the little purple flowers that were springing into bloom across the field behind our house.
For me, it couldn’t have come soon enough. It had been a rougher week than usual at school. In addition to the finals schedule being announced, and Cassie throwing herself full-force into prom planning, my visions were getting stranger, scarier. And I was having dreams every night now.
In one, Asher was holding a sword to my neck, telling me to jump or he would kill me.
In another, I was walking on that same beach from my visions. But it was covered with broken wings, spattered with blood and jagged where they’d been cut from someone’s back.
In the most recent, Devin was pulling his blade from my stomach, and blood poured from the gaping wound. “Trust is for dreamers and fools,” he said. “You think you can save the world, but how can you trust the people around you when you can’t even trust yourself?” But it wasn’t his voice that rang in my head, it was Astaroth’s, and then he said something else, but I couldn’t hear him as the blood rushed up past my nose and mouth, past my ears, and I woke screaming in a cold sweat to find Earth sitting at the foot of my bed.
She put her hand on my leg.
“It’s him,” she said, “isn’t it? The one who can see into your mind.”
“They’re dreams,” I said, struggling to catch my breath. “They’re just dreams.”
“No,” she said, her calm, small voice comforting in the night. “It’s him. It’s easier when you’re asleep. Don’t let what he says scare you. It’s not real.”
Betrayal. Shattered trust. And if the dreams were right, I would die, soon, and violently. Possibly at the hands of someone I trusted. Gideon had only taught me how to protect my mind from infiltration when I was awake. I had no idea how to stop Astaroth from getting in while I was asleep. How would I protect my dreams?
The question plagued me: Were they visions of the future or just visions he was planting in my mind to rattle me?
Whatever it was, something was changing. Every day, the visions and dreams were getting worse. Order and Chaos were on the verge of colliding. A battle of some kind loomed even closer. I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to find James, so we could stop the carnage from happening. Or before Astaroth drove me crazy in the process.
I only had a face to go on, and a name that didn’t seem to match that face. It wasn’t adding up, and we were running out of time.
Aunt Jo made dinner one night and invited the whole group over. She claimed it was safer when we were all together, and that she wanted to talk about our plan, but I had an inkling she had other reasons as well. Aunt Jo had been especially chipper lately. No, not chipper. Glowing. It was like I was seeing a side of her she’d never showed me before. She’d always loved having friends over to cook for, but this felt different. She wasn’t doing it for herself this time, or even for me. She was doing it for someone else.
And he was sitting right next to her, watching adoringly as she passed the mashed ginger-and-carrot sweet potatoes.
“How are the prom plans coming, Cassie?” Aunt Jo asked.
“Fab,” Cassie said. “You’ll never guess what the theme is.”
“Do we want to know?” asked Dan.
“It’s the End of the World!” Cassie beamed.
An awkward silence fell over the table.
“Looks like I’m not the only one who eats their shoes,” Raven snorted.
“That’s the theme of prom?” I asked.
“You told me it was my job to bring the levity,” Cassie said, trying not to look hurt as she glanced around the table. “It’s based on disaster movies, Skye. Titanic, The Day After Tomorrow, Poseidon, Twister.” She paused and looked at me. “Your favorites. I thought you’d be happy.”