Chapter One

JUNE, PRESENT

Sunlight splinters in golden bolts from the surface of a polished, chestnut casket. A light breeze carries scents of roses coupled with the smell of salt from the tears that pour down faces all around me, except my own.

I've cried enough over the past few months.

My peripheral is a sea of black, but my gaze zeroes in on the casket, gleaming like a morbid beacon. The air is light and crisp, absent of its oppressive demeanor that usually follows in the upcoming months as the humidity rises. A gentle warmth caresses my exposed arms through my black sheath dress.

A perfect summer day, and I'm spending it at a funeral for Jesse's father, a man I loved almost as much as my own .

My thoughts come unbidden, picturing a different man in that casket. A man with sun bronzed skin and eyes like burnt gold, whose death could be on my hands. Goosebumps pebble my skin—Nick is alive. Safe .

As long as I stay the hell away from him.

In an attempt to shake off the fear that bubbles down my spine like prickly heat, I briefly catch Jesse's eye as they lower his father into the earth. With his own eyes red-rimmed and swollen, I want to run to him. Comfort him. But just as quickly, he drops his gaze and doesn't return it.

Perhaps that should bother me, but the minute I looked into Jesse's eyes, thoughts of Nick and our last moments together sear my brain like a brand.

"Stop lying. You know."

"Tell me you don't love me."

I shudder, feeling each of those words like punches. Those words were the last exchange Nick and I had. Even worse, the last four words I'd uttered to him had destroyed me one by one as each syllable had left my lips.

" I don't love you."

"Rhi, are you okay?"

I blink furiously, remembering I'm supposed to be here grieving the loss of the father of someone who used to be my best friend, and here I am selfishly distracted by the first person I ever truly gave my heart to.

I look into the concerned, dark brown eyes of my mother, reminded of the stark contrast not only in our physical traits, but our ancestral ones as her adopted daughter. Sea-green eyes aren't the only characteristics that set me apart from my adoptive parents. They're human.

I'm not.

The funeral concludes, and my mother guides me toward the cemetery's exit.

"Yeah, Mom." I blow out a breath. "It's been a long…" Week? Month? Year? "…day," I finish.

She places an arm around me and gives me an affectionate squeeze. "I know, sweetheart." She kisses the top of my head as my father opens the car door.

The drive from the cemetery to Jesse's house is barely three minutes long. I spend the short ride in silence, my head pressed against the window, seeking solace from its cool surface.

What my mother doesn't know is how little I've slept. She attributes the bruised olive skin under my eyes to a rigorous first year at Alystair, coupled with the loss of someone close to me. She's only half right, because I've lost so much more than Jesse's father.

She also doesn't know about the nightmares that plague me every night. How the thought of merely attempting sleep drives my heart close to hammering outside of my chest. How every time I close my eyes, I see a different horrific image: Liv lying in a pool of her own blood. Blood pouring from Kassi's throat. A giant, electric blue eye between two sickly yellow ones.

My dad turns onto our street, Jesse living only three houses down. We park at our house and take the short walk to his home where a reception is being held.

I let my gaze travel over the guests entering before my parents and I, wondering if I'll catch a glimpse of any of my old "friends." I sigh with relief when I don't spot any familiar faces and make my way into the living room. The walls are painted a cream color, the couches and chairs a shade lighter. The room is sprinkled with grieving family members and guests dressed in black, resembling splotches of ink on parchment.

"Why don't you go find Jesse?" Dad suggests.

My mom nods enthusiastically. "I'm sure he would love your company. "

I almost wince. They have no idea that Jesse and I haven't spoken in nearly nine months, ever since my monstrous side was revealed on my eighteenth birthday, and I went to Alystair University to be with others of my kind. I remember the day in my bedroom when he told me I didn't belong at Alystair. Of course, Jesse, like everyone else, believed the school to be some elite university that housed generations of the rich and aloof. Naturally, I'd been insulted and told him to leave.

Regardless, I muster up the courage to seek him out. Jesse and I have a twelve-year history. Despite our last encounter, what sort of person would I be if I didn't reach out to at least offer some words of comfort when he'd just lost his father, someone so dear and important to him?

I nearly trip over my feet as my brain conjures up the image of a beautiful girl with aquamarine hair and eyes to match. I'd lost someone dear and important to me too just a few months ago. Someone who had become the closest thing to a sister I'd ever had, and it was entirely my fault.

Liv.

I pull my bottom lip between my teeth to keep the tears at bay. The girl gang and I had grieved Liv in our own way. Had been there to comfort one another the days after her death and then after nearly dying ourselves. But glancing around this room, it occurs to me I'd never be able to grieve for her here , in my life separate from Alystair. I'd be able to be a friend to Jesse and offer comfort, but he could never do that for me. No one outside of Alystair would.

And of course, the one person I ache to find comfort in is the one I'd massacred emotionally.

I sigh, fiddling with the pendant on my neck as I travel from room to room, scouring the enormous house. Nick made me promise to never take the pendant off, and I haven't. It is a small, silent apology for breaking his heart and my own.

I finish searching the first floor of the house with no luck. I make my way back through the living room and into the main hallway, my eyes traveling up the large, carpeted staircase to the floor above. My fingers find the pendant again, a habit I developed in place of toying with the ends of my hair. If Jesse isn't downstairs, I have a feeling I know where he is, but I hesitate at the thought of returning there.

"He's waiting for you, you know."

I turn toward the familiar voice and find Casey. Her once chin length hair now reaches slightly past her shoulders, the color as black as demon blood .

"What makes you say that? We haven't spoken in months."

She takes a step toward me, eyes flicking upward before settling on me. "Come on, Rhi. He's been in love with you since we were little. He still is. You think he really wants to be around anyone else right now except for you?"

I swallow roughly at the mention of Jesse being in love with me. He'd told me once, and I told him I didn't love him. Only that time, I'd been telling the truth.

"He's acted strange the last few months, Rhi."

That piques my concern. "Strange how?"

"He dropped out of school."

My eyes nearly bulge from my head. "What?!"

She chuckles darkly. "Imagine my surprise when I'm grabbing lunch between classes in March and I see him. At first, I was happy he was home. He and I hadn't spoken a lot, either, but it was, you know, different with us." She shrugs. "Anyway, when I went to talk to him, he looked sort of…detached. I tried to get him to tell me what was going on with him, but he said he would call me and then he left. And obviously, he never called me. And now this." She gestures vaguely.

I let out a long breath. Something bad must have happened for Jesse to drop out of school. Boston College was all he ever talked about in the days leading up to us going our separate ways. Well, Boston College and us attending together was all he ever talked about. Guilt twists in my abdomen. Even though Jesse's father passed away only a week ago, Jesse had been battling something since March, which was months ago. The same month of the Eleusis party. The same month Nick and I…

Stop it, Rhi. I clench my hands into fists, letting my claws out a bit to pierce the flesh of my palms, the pain allowing me to focus.

"I'll go talk to him," I say curtly, and head to the foot of the stairs. A hand stops me.

"It's good to see you, Rhi." Casey's voice rings in my ears, the genuine wistfulness behind that statement enough for me to face her again.

Her dark eyes hold a sense of trepidation, and she chews her bottom lip as she awaits my response.

I give her a half smile, the small politeness the only thing my sorrow-leaden heart will allow before I head for the stairs.

I stand before Jesse's closed bedroom door, shifting uncomfortably. My stomach churns at the familiarity of the situation as I recall standing outside Nick's door preparing to shatter his world and mine.

But this time, my hesitation is caused by uncertainty, and I admit, cowardice. Will Jesse kick me out of his room before I even have a chance to speak? Will he hurl insults at me? Or worst of all, will he once again expect something of me I can't give?

The door to his room opens before nerves get the better of me, and Jesse and I are face to face.

"Rhi," he chokes. His golden-brown eyes are bloodshot and swollen, but his face remains tear-free, as though he has none left to shed. His suit jacket has disappeared along with his tie, the top two buttons of his white-collared shirt undone to reveal a smooth muscled chest beneath. Jesse runs a hand through his hair and moves aside to open the door wider. "Come in."

I say nothing as I tentatively enter, fingers flying to my pendant to steady me. His room is exactly as I remembered, a study in pristine cleanliness. A sprawling desk with a bookshelf on top lies straight ahead, the books all organized alphabetically by author. To the right of the desk is a television. A gray couch sits on the wall opposite, while the back wall boasts two large doors with brass handles, concealing a massive walk-in closet. My eyes continue to roam the room even as Jesse walks past me, pausing in front of the one place I refuse to look at.

"Thank you for coming," Jesse says, his voice void of emotion. And that forces me to look in his direction. To the place I'd been trying to avoid - the perfectly made bed of white and navy sheets behind him.

Have we really been reduced to this? Thank you for coming : A kind enough comment, sure, but isn't that reserved for the people who pass through, who barely know you or your family? It's the thing you say to co-workers or acquaintances. It's not what you say to someone you've known for thirteen years.

I nearly lose it, thinking about all of it. This reserved distance between Jesse and I. About the fact that I feel like I've lost him now, too. About the fact that I did lose Liv, my sister, my friend, violently, and I can't talk about it at home. About the fact that I lost Nick, and even though my heart rages and thrashes inside me to fix everything, I can't. Because his life depends on it.

I finally break.

"Jesse, I'm so sorry," I sob, tears flowing. Let them come. Let them wash away all the pain and suffering and the days and days and days of me tearing myself apart.

Between one breath and the next, Jesse's arms are around me, clenching me so tight it's a wonder I can breathe. But I don't care. I inhale the comforting scent of him, of sandalwood and bergamot. With my abilities, I sense his relief and his soul-crushing sorrow. As he pulls away, my lips accidentally brush the side of his cheek, the flavor of salt settling on my tongue as I taste his tears.

"I'm sorry too, Rhi," he confesses. "I'm sorry for the way I acted when you left for Alystair." His arms wind their way around me again. "I've missed you." His voice breaks. "So fucking much."

I consider his apology. At one time, it was something I'd craved, but as he says it, those words do nothing to alleviate the jagged hole in my chest, and I realize it's because the only apology I need is the one I'm supposed to give. To a boy who isn't here. To a boy whose name shatters my heart in pieces every time I merely think of it. But all I say is, "I've missed you too, Jesse."

At least an hour goes by as Jesse and I lay side by side on his bed, dredging up old memories before he asks about my first year at Alystair. I complain about the rigorous academic workload, and he playfully laughs when I tell him I've become a decent fencer. I describe my love for the girl gang, grief nearly suffocating me at the fact that I have to leave Liv out completely.

I don't mention Nick at all.

"I'm starving," he says, clearly dodging the question I had just asked about how he was doing in Boston.

I turn my head, finding his eyes already on me. "Have you eaten at all today?"

"I wasn't hungry."

Right. How could he have wanted to eat, dealing with all of this? I sit up, looking down at him as I speak. "Why don't we go downstairs and get something to eat? Though I would advise you to stay away from the bread pudding." I make a face of disgust.

Jesse laughs as he sits up. "Hey, that's Aunt Margaret's bread pudding."

"Oh, well, it looks uh…gross? I hope for your sake, she never makes it again."

Jesse raises his eyebrows. "She makes it every Thanksgiving."

I cringe. "How unfortunate." I push myself off the bed, but Jesse grabs my wrist.

"I don't want to go back down there," he whispers. A plea.

I sink back into the bed, our faces inches from one another, and realize now that our carefree act is over. We studiously avoided bringing up anything that caused us pain, but now we have to face it.

"Why did you leave school?" As soon as I say it, Jesse's face leeches of color. Leave it to me to come in swinging with a sledgehammer, but soft and gentle isn't my style.

Jesse briefly averts his eyes, then returns them to my face, searching. I don't need my monstrous sixth sense to know he's feeling me out, deciding if I'm still trustworthy. That stings a little.

"I'm taking over TriTech."

Confusion addles my brain. "Your dad's company?"

He gives me a solemn nod.

I let out a chuckle of disbelief. "Jesse, you're nineteen. How can you possibly run one of the country's largest biotech companies?" Pain ripples across his face and guilt immediately takes root in my abdomen. "I didn't mean it like that. But you weren't even going to study that in school." I shake my head. "I don't understand."

Jesse grabs my hand, moving his face closer to mine. "My dad has been preparing me to take over this company my entire life. It's all he's ever wanted."

"Did you ever have a choice?" Sadness overcomes me at the thought that Jesse had one of those parents. The parents that groomed their children to follow exactly in their footsteps: same college, same career, same life , never allowing them to be something other than what they wanted. Which is odd, considering I had known Jesse's father well. At least, I thought I had, and he appeared nothing less than a loving, doting parent who only wanted the best for his two boys.

"No, but it's…hard to explain." He starts rubbing my knuckles with his thumb, and though the action makes me wary of how close he intends to get.

"I'm listening," I prompt.

Jesse licks his lips, and my gaze immediately follows the action, the monster in me perking up a little. Though, unlike the last time this happened, the ravenous hunger is absent.

"To answer your question, no, I never had a choice," he says. "But I always wanted to take over for my father. I just couldn't tell anyone about it." Regret shines in his eyes. "Not even you."

Jesse continues caressing my knuckles with his thumb, but I don't pull away. Instead, I reach for my pendant with the opposite hand, watching Jesse's eyes fall there before they return to my face.

I contemplate his explanation, sifting through the web of uncertainty until I find the tangle in the truth. "But Jesse, you said you left school in March. Your dad died almost a week ago. Why did you leave three months before your dad passed away? You could have at least finished the semester."

Jesse licks his lips again, swallowing thickly. " Rhi, if I tell you something, you have to promise you won't say a word to anyone, ok?"

I'm suddenly sitting in a diner across from a boy with black hair and amber eyes, asking me the same exact thing.

Tears well within my eyes. I grip the pendant tighter, and Jesse once again notes the action.

"I promise," I say.

Jesse stops caressing my knuckles and laces his fingers through mine. "My dad was sick, Rhi. He didn't die of a sudden heart attack. He was sick for months."

My mouth drops open at this revelation. Somehow, this makes everything worse. Jesse just hadn't had to deal with the death of his father. He'd had to watch his father suffer before death finally claimed him.

"Oh, Jesse," my voice breaks, "I'm so, so sorry." I reach out with my free hand to cup his face. "I'm sorry you dealt with this all alone."

"It's okay, Rhi," he says gently, placing his other hand over the one I have on his cheek. He takes my palm and kisses it, his lips moving downward towards my wrist and then further near the crook of my elbow.

"Jesse," I gasp, my protest catching in my throat as Jesse untangles our fingers and sweeps my hair from my collarbone. My body reacts to his touch, adversely trembling at the brush of his fingers against my skin. Jesse misconstrues that as his cue and presses his lips to mine.

The kiss is gentle at first, tentative and unsure. I want to stop this, as there is only one man whose lips I crave. But like my last kiss with Nick, I'm selfish. I've been trapped inside my own head for so long, the heavy burden of my secret weighing me down like a pile of bricks. Being home, in a place where I should feel the most at ease, I feel suppressed by the burden of hiding who I truly am from everyone I love. Each day it becomes harder and harder to keep yet another secret from my friends, who know beyond a doubt that something troubles me. And each day it grows harder and harder to keep my restraint, to not run to Nick and confess that I know about the prophecy, that I cause his death.

I want to forget all of it, but that jarring reminder is more than enough for me to remember the man currently kissing me is not the one I want. Ever.

I place my hand against Jesse's chest and gently push, but he doesn't budge. Instead, he drags his fingers over my collarbone, brushing the pendant from my throat as he does so.

I freeze at feeling the absence of the pendant that has always sat comfortably in the hollow of my throat. I nearly throw Jesse off of me in my attempt to turn from him, my hands fumbling to find the pendant and bring it forward, making sure it's still on my neck.

A sigh of relief escapes my lips as I close my eyes. It's still there.

"Is everything ok?"

I open my eyes to Jesse's concerned stare.

When I don't answer, Jesse clears his throat, and I snap my gaze to his. My hand continues to hover over the pendant in some desperate reassurance I'm still wearing it.

"You keep toying with that, you're going to break it," he says. I start to relax until he asks, "Who gave it to you?"

That breaks me from my spell of relief. In fact, those five words do just the opposite.

"A friend," I say quietly, my throat suddenly dry. I scramble from my seated position, turning to face Jesse once I stand. "I'm sorry."

"Did I do something?"

I can't bring myself to look at him, not when his question is laced with hurt and concern. I spend a significant amount of time smoothing my palms down my dress, avoiding eye contact. "No, Jesse. I just…" I finally meet his gaze, my heart cracking. He looks so defeated, so… crushed. "...I'm just not ready," I finish, allowing him and myself a sliver of honesty.

Jesse rises from the bed, approaching me tentatively, like I might run, which I haven't entirely ruled out. He places his hands on my waist. A soft grin graces his lips. "That's ok, Rhi." He kisses my forehead. "Just don't pull away from me, ok? Because when you are ready, I'll be here."

I force my lips to part in a smile, and I lie. "Ok."