His lips start to part, speaking words of hate, I’m sure, but his gaze zips over my shoulder and I hear the crash of the door as it smashes shut. A cold breeze rushes up behind me, blowing my hair like a black veil around us. His hands fall from my shoulders, but he surprises me when his heart hits a steady calm.

“Well, well, well,” a guy says, his boots tapping against the floor as he struts in. “I thought you’d make it a little harder than this Aiden. I really did.”

Aiden’s eyes narrow. Honestly, I expected him to run away, like a coward, especially after what I just told him. But he walks past me, towards the Day Takers. When I turn around, I find they’re much different from what I pictured. In fact, they remind me a lot of the vampires from the book, with their beautiful skin and flawless features. I’d compare them to the Highers, but that would be wrong. They have color, liveliness, even if their hearts don’t beat. There are five of them total—four guys and one girl—but I wonder if there are more somewhere else. Maybe these were just the ones sent to track me down.

“But I guess I really can’t expect that much from you. I mean, you did choose to give it up, brother.” The guy that speaks is tall and lean, with dark hair and eyes as black as ash. And his pulse is as silent as my own.

I stare at Aiden, shocked. “He’s your brother?”

Aiden opens his mouth to explain, but then directs his attention back to his brother. “She’s not going to turn,” he says. “She’s going to stay human.”

His black eyes land on me, and there’s something in them that makes my skin grow all warm and fuzzy.  “Are those your words or his?”

I glance from Aiden, to the others, and then back to him. “I don’t know what I’m going to do yet,” I say truthfully. “Maybe if you could explain whatever this is,” I gesture at the five of them, “then I could make my decision.”

He grins, eyes dark as he lets a laugh growl from his chest. “Now that’s the Kayla I remember.”

“You know me?” I point my knife at my chest.

“Are you that surprised?” He raises his dark eyebrows.

“Not really.” I shake my head in all honesty. “But who are you?”

“Sylas,” he says, watching my reaction. But it’s not ringing a bell at all. And I think he can tell. “You haven’t gotten that far?”

“You mean with remembering,” I say. “No, I haven’t gotten past the red door.”

“Is that so?” Sylas exchanges glances with the girl whose hair is as red as blood. “Emmy what’d you think about all this? You think you can help Kayla remember me?”