I sensed a movement overhead and looked up into one of those skull faces with black holes where eyes should be, domed head and death-grin, swooping down, coming right at me, one and then another and another until my hands rose in panic and I was screaming just like the time before.

  Strong hands lifted me up. I fought back, kicking and pulling free into the darkness, hearing footsteps follow me. They gained on me and I was caught again in the harsh grip.

  “Stop!” I cried, turning, amazed to see I was being held by the woman who was the mother of the baby—one of Hunter’s living dead. “Don’t do this. You know me!” I cried.

  Holding me by the arm, the woman dragged me back onto the ridge, her own hair torn back from her face, her features lost in shadow…the wings as loud as ever, the death faces, hovering.

  I cried and struggled, fearful that I wouldn’t get through to Phoenix and would suffer the ultimate punishment: I would be sent running with my mind wiped clear of everything that had happened. “Don’t!” I pleaded. “I need to talk to Phoenix. He’ll make you understand.”

  Hearing me speak his name, the woman suddenly let go of my arm and stepped back.

  I slumped to the ground and when I looked up again, Phoenix was there, out of the blackness, gazing down at me.

  “Darina.” These arms were gentle as they helped me up. “I’m here now,” he soothed. “Come with me. Take your time.”

  He made the wings stop and sent the zombie woman and the death heads away. My heart was already leaping for joy at seeing him again. “Hunter put us on high alert as soon as the sun began to set,” he explained. “Eve was sent up here to protect the eastern boundary.”

  “The guys from town are coming back!” My own explanation was breathless, between low sobs that caught in my throat. I was relieved when I saw a soft glow of yellow light that meant we were close to the ranch house.

  “Don’t talk right now. Wait till we get inside.” Phoenix guided me in the darkness over the old wooden doorstep into the ancient house. “Who’s coming?” he asked as soon as he’d closed the door.

  “Jonas’s dad and a few others. They won’t let it rest until they’ve found out what goes on up here.”

  He nodded. “Hunter said they’d be back. That’s why he put us on alert. How many, do you know?”

  “Not exactly.” Catching my breath, I rolled up my jeans to see a bloody scratch on my shin where I’d fallen over the log. “Four or five maybe. Anyway, not as many as last time. So how come Eve used the wings against me?”

  Phoenix made me sit down on the old rocking chair, then moved to the sink to fetch a basin of cold water and a clean hand towel. “We set it up so no one could get through. Eve heard a car in the distance and automatically put up the barrier. I’m sorry you got hurt.”

  “It’s nothing.” I winced as Phoenix dabbed the blood away. The moment he cleaned the skin, a pattern of tiny red spots reappeared, gathered, then slowly trickled to my ankle. I grimaced again then looked around the empty house.

  “Where is everyone?”

  “Out on the boundaries, keeping a lookout. Press hard on this towel, right here. It’ll stop the bleeding.”

  “Why? Where are you going?”

  “Nowhere. I need to speak with Jonas. Wait.”

  I watched Phoenix stand near the window, his eyelids semi-closed, a look of intense concentration on his face. “Hey, Jonas, it’s Phoenix. How are you doing, dude?”

  “Good,” came the reply, as clear as if Jonas was in the room.

  I looked round wildly, wondering what was going on.

  “Where are you?”

  “Up by the water tower. Where are you?”

  “In the house.”

  “Who’s with you? I can hear someone in the room.”

  “It’s Darina. That’s why I wanted to talk with you. She says your dad is heading back with a bunch of guys. Can you hear anything unusual up there?”

  “Nope.” Nevertheless, Jonas sounded worried. “How’s Darina? Is she OK?”

  “Yeah, pretty much. Eve didn’t recognize her in the dark. She gave her a hard time. Listen, Jonas, you need to tell Hunter what’s going to happen—about your dad and the others. They’ll come up from Foxton, so get everyone in place ready.”

  “OK, leave it with me.”

  “And if you run up against your dad, don’t get involved. Let the others do the work.”

  “Yeah, right.” Jonas’s voice began to fade as Phoenix relaxed and came away from the window. “Thanks, Phoenix. See you.”

  “See you, dude,” he muttered.

  “How did you do that?” I demanded, partly spooked but mostly amazed.

  “Do what?”

  “Talk to a guy half a mile away and make him sound like he was right here in the room?”

  Phoenix smiled. “We hear everything, remember.”

  “Yeah, but how did you make me hear too?”

  “I pumped up the volume for you, like we were on speakerphone. It would have been kind of rude to cut you out of the conversation.”

  “Just like that?” I relaxed and grinned. “You know how weird this all is for me, don’t you?”

  Phoenix’s smile broadened then he drew me from the chair onto the floor where we sat cross-legged facing one another, close enough to lean forward and exchange a couple of sweet, gentle kisses. “Who told you that Bob and his bunch were going to try again?”

  “He did,” I explained. “I was at Charlie Fortune’s workshop, trying to find out more about Jonas’s crash. Jonas’s dad was there, telling Charlie the plan. That threw me off course, so I never had the chance to quiz Charlie about the repair he did on Jonas’s Dyna. I headed out here instead. That could only happen after I’d gotten rid of your big brother. He did his best to slow me down, like always.”

  Phoenix tilted his head to one side and narrowed his eyes. “You talked with Brandon?”

  “It’s OK. He’s being real nice, the same as he was after the funeral.” And I told Phoenix about my reckless jump into the creek and how I had to be rescued by big bro. “Now he wants to find me a car.”

  Slowly Phoenix nodded.

  “Are you OK with that?” I asked. “I guess it’s Brandon’s way of doing stuff for me, just like you asked.”

  “He told you that?” Phoenix seemed surprised, a little on edge.

  “Yeah. He said you talked to him before you fell unconscious. You asked him to take care of me.”

  “I don’t remember.” He frowned then took my hands in his. “It’s cool. You need someone, and Brandon doesn’t take crap from anyone. Let him go ahead and find you a car.”

  “I don’t care if he does or not.” Gently I stroked the insides of Phoenix’s wrists then ran my hands up his arms, over the curves of his biceps so that my fingers rested on his shoulders. “Wouldn’t it be cool to be living here in this house, just the two of us?”

  “Yeah, with a fire in the grate and a lamp shining in the window. Corny, huh?” Phoenix closed his eyes. He leaned forward so that his cheek touched mine, tingling skin against skin.

  “We’d take water from the creek and you’d chop logs while I baked bread, just like in Hunter’s day.” Real corny, but a twenty-first-century girl can dream herself back to frontier hominess.

  “Hey, was Hunter married before—before he got shot?” I sat back a little, waiting for the answer.

  Phoenix nodded. “That’s why he got shot. He lived here with his wife, Marie. They spent six winters here, building the place up, farming cattle. Then a neighbor from Foxton made trouble. A guy called Peter Mentone. He came calling on Marie one day when Hunter was gone, with only one thing on his mind.”

  “Don’t tell me.” Images of Laura finding Dad with Karli Hamilton flashed through my memory—the shouting and screaming, the raw anger, the ugly secret sex, and the hurt.

  “The way Hunter tells it, Marie wasn’t interested in Mentone and she was putting up a fight when Hunter came home unexpectedly. Hunter went crazy and t
ore at the guy with his bare hands. Mentone had a gun.”

  I shook my head and shuddered. “So now I have to feel sorry for Hunter.” I sighed. “Who would’ve believed it?”

  “Come here.” Phoenix pulled me closer and the tingling turned into a shudder of desire. “What a dream that would be, you and me living together, twenty-four seven, forever. How does that sound?”

  “Like heaven,” I whispered. “Forever” seemed to echo around the room.

  He kissed me and I melted into him, loving the closeness, my fingertips against his cool cheeks, his arms holding me.

  “Answer a question for me.” I didn’t move, breathing the words against his lips. “Is it true what Jonas told me—the Beautiful Dead can’t stay here forever?”

  Phoenix held still. Too still. “Don’t make me answer that, Darina.”

  “Jonas said a year.” Phoenix was so close his eyes were blurred, the dark lashes curving downward as his eyelids fluttered shut again. Better to know than not to know said a masochistic voice inside my head. “Is it true?”

  “Twelve whole months,” he murmured. “I’m with you for a long, long time.”

  Tears spilled down my cheeks. “But it’s not long enough,” I whispered. “It’s not forever.”

  Hunter must have still been expecting the bikers to arrive by the usual route. He’d posted most of his lookouts on the water tower ridge, with only Eve and Phoenix out on the wilderness to the east.

  That meant Eve was alone up by Angel Rock when Bob Jonson and the others took her by surprise.

  Phoenix heard the engines and called Summer and Hunter to come down from Foxton Ridge and head for Angel Rock instead. “The guys came across country,” he explained, pacing the room. “Eve’s holding back some of them, but not all.”

  Now even I could hear the bikes. And I could see shafts of bright light from their headlights raking across the hillsides.

  “Will you stay here with me?” I asked Phoenix.

  He nodded. “We can’t risk anyone finding you. Turn out the kitchen lights and come upstairs.”

  We crept up into the one and only bedroom that Hunter had shared with his wife, Marie. We closed the drapes, held hands, leaned against the wall, and kept out of sight.

  Outside, the ridge was crisscrossed by beams of light. I pictured the Beautiful Dead beating back the approach of the bikers, driving them crazy with the sound of wings and the sight of death heads, sending them back the way they’d come.

  “We’re doing good,” Phoenix reported, listening to messages I couldn’t hear. “Hunter and Summer are up there with Eve. Two of the guys have already turned around.”

  I nodded. It was weird how calm I felt around Phoenix, as if he were my magic, impenetrable shield.

  “But they’re having trouble with one guy,” Phoenix said, listening closely. “They don’t know who it is. It’s dark and he’s wearing a helmet. He’s on a bike they haven’t seen before.”

  I heard the whine of an engine speeding along the ridge. Then the rider turned at the water tower and pointed his bike down into the valley, his headlight juddering over the rough ground as he sped nearer.

  “He got past Eve,” Phoenix muttered, letting go of my hand and peering between the drapes.

  The bike was close to the house, swerving recklessly around boulders, near enough to make out its dark rider and the glint of his visor.

  “Stay down!” Phoenix ordered. “Don’t move!”

  I watched him sprint across the room and heard him run downstairs two at a time. Then I crept to the window and peered down, hearing Phoenix burst through the door just as the rider braked and let his bike drop to the ground. I saw him wrench off his helmet in the moonlight. It was Jonas’s dad.

  Phoenix stayed well in the shadow of the house, watching warily, waiting for Bob Jonson to make his next move.

  Jonson flung his helmet to one side. He knew there was someone in the shadows of the porch but he couldn’t see who it was, so he stood wide-legged like a wary gunslinger.

  “Come out of there,” he ordered. “Or I come in. You choose.”

  I held my breath, wondering what Phoenix’s next move would be. Wondering too what kind of desperation had driven Bob Jonson to ignore the supernatural warnings up by Angel Rock and do what none of his biker friends had had the guts to do.

  “OK, I’m coming for you,” he warned, and took a deliberate step toward the shadows.

  When Phoenix stepped out I knew it was because he wanted to protect me. No way would he let Jonson find me in the house. He stood in the moonlight face-to-face.

  For a few seconds nothing happened. Bob Jonson’s brain took awhile to compute what he was seeing. A young guy with dark hair, his face pale in the moonlight, his expression blank. Then Jonson’s suspicious, angry face changed.The frown deepened, his mouth went slack as he took a sharp breath and muttered one word—“Phoenix.”

  Phoenix blinked. He made the wings beat louder and stronger, caused the dust in the yard to whirl up, and made the intruder put his hand to his eyes.

  Back off, Bob. Get the hell out! I warned silently from the bedroom window.

  “They said you died,” Jonson said in a low, growling voice. “They held your funeral and all.”

  Still Phoenix said nothing. He was using all his power to turn Jonson away, just as Eve had done before him. But I knew Bob Jonson didn’t care if he lived or died. He was beyond scaring. He was a shell, left only with his grief.

  “What the hell’s going on?” he muttered, closing the gap between him and Phoenix. “If you’re alive, who knows, maybe my boy Jonas is too.”

  Speak to him, Phoenix. Throw him off the scent, I thought, pulling back the drape to get a clearer view.

  Jonson caught the movement out of the corner of his eye. He glanced up and saw my face, recognized me right away. “Darina, you get down here!” he yelled.

  My stomach lurched as I ducked out of sight. I heard another shout—Jonson calling my name again then scuffling with Phoenix.

  “Back off, I’ve got a gun,” he warned. Then silence.

  I froze and listened to footsteps on the wooden porch and the thud of what sounded like Jonson thrusting Phoenix aside.

  That was it. I broke cover and darted downstairs in time to find Phoenix wrestling Jonson back from the door and Jonson waving a small handgun in his face.

  “I swear I’ll use it,” he threatened us both.

  “Get back, Darina!” Phoenix flung himself at Jonson and tried to grapple the gun away from him.The rocking chair went crashing against the old stove as the two guys fell headlong on the floor.

  Jonson fired one shot. A small cracking sound, not a boomboom like I’d imagined. So what did I do? My mind went blank and I went crazy. I ran at the guy with the gun to save my boyfriend, who was already dead. Yeah. It made perfect sense.

  There was a second shot before Phoenix finally managed to grab the gun and hand it to me, leaving him free to keep Jonson pinned down. My hands trembled at the feel of cold steel, at the weight of it, heavier than I’d thought…but still I pointed the barrel of the gun right at Jonson’s head.

  He looked up at me, totally calm, waiting for me to shoot.

  “Get up; but don’t make another move,” Phoenix told him, pulling him onto his feet by the front of his sheepskin jacket.

  I kept my trembling aim. What was I doing? I’d never held a gun before in my life.

  “Don’t look at Darina, look at me,” Phoenix told him quietly. “I said, ignore Darina!”

  Jonson’s eyes had flicked in my direction, judging whether or not I would pull the trigger.

  “This is what will happen,” Phoenix went on, keeping hold of Jonson and pushing him back toward the kitchen door. Outside, the dust still whirled and millions of wings flapped up a storm. “You’re going to pick up your bike and start the engine. You’re going to ride right out of here.”

  “I’m not leaving,” Jonson argued. “I need answers. You tell me what happene
d. Where’s my boy?”

  “You’re going to ride right out of here without looking back,” Phoenix repeated slowly. “I’m going to do something now that won’t feel good, Bob. It’ll seem like someone knocked you hard on the head.”

  “You take your hands off me!” Jonson started to fight back, even though I was still aiming the gun.

  One squeeze of the trigger…

  Trust me, Darina, Phoenix’s voice said, though he didn’t open his mouth and there was no sound.

  “I’m going to do it now,” Phoenix told Jonson. “I’m going to wipe what happened here from your memory—totally zap it. Like I said, you’ll have a sore head, but you won’t recall a thing.”

  Jonson grew frantic and struggled again. “You’re talking crazy. This whole thing is crazy!”

  Phoenix was stronger by far. He forced Jonson out into the open, down into the dirt and the weeds, right beside the rusting truck.

  Jonson was half up again, crouching, ready to throw himself forward at Phoenix, when Phoenix concentrated—zap! The hypnotic attack on Jonson’s memory threw him back down and sprawling in the dirt, writhing in pain, and rolling away from his attacker, who hadn’t even raised a finger. Again—zap! And the wings beat louder, shrouding the bike, the truck, and us in thick white dust.

  After Bob Jonson put on his helmet and rode away, Phoenix gently unclasped my fingers from the gun. He slid it into his pocket and pulled me into his arms. Then we stood in the moonlight waiting for everything to get back to normal. Or close enough.

  “Hunter will be here soon,” he murmured. “Jonas’s dad was the last to leave. The rest already rode out.”

  “Oh God, Phoenix, what’s happening to me?” I couldn’t believe I’d actually pointed the gun and thought about pulling the trigger.

  “You panicked when you heard he was armed,” he replied.

  “I was stupid to let him see me,” I argued. “I made things worse.” Plus, I’d contemplated shooting a guy. Not a stranger: someone I knew, someone who was suffering.

  “Don’t beat yourself up.” Phoenix looked at me earnestly, doing his best to convince me. “It worked out. Jonson will get back to town and he won’t remember a single thing that happened from the time he rode down from the ridge to the point where he got back onto the Ellerton road.”