When I woke up in the morning, August greeted me with almost-burnt scrambled eggs, and by the

look on his face I knew Dad was already gone. The kid I was just shrugged, knew he’d be back, and

decided that I was going to be doing the cooking from now on. The kid I was then knew everything

would be okay.

The kid I am now knows better.

Jealousy

CHAPTER ONE

A long despairing howl split the night.

It could have been mistaken for a siren in the distance, I suppose, if you ignored the way it burrowed in past your ears and pulled on the meat inside your head with glass-splinter fingers. The cry

was full of blood and hot meat and cold air. I sat bolt-upright, pushing the heavy velvet covers

aside. My left wrist ached, but I shook it out and hopped out of bed.

I grabbed my sweater from the floor and yanked it over my head, glad I hadn’t worn earrings in a

dog’s age. The floor was hardwood and cold against bare feet; I was across the room and almost ran

into the door. Threw the locks with fumbling fingers. A blue-glass night-light gave just enough illumination to allow me to avoid stubbing my toes on unfamiliar furniture. I hadn’t been here long

enough to memorize anything.

I wasn’t sure I would be, either. Not with the way everyone keeps trying to kill me.

Thin blue lines of warding sparked at the corner of my vision. I’d warded the walls my first night

here, and the hair-thin lines of crackling blue light ran together in complex knots, flashing just on

the edge of visibility. I woke the rest of the way and cursed roundly at the door, the howl still ringing inside my skull.

Gran would be proud. I was warding without her rowan wand or a candle, and it was getting easier.

Of course, the practice of doing it over and over again was probably responsible. I wasn’t going to

sleep anywhere without warding now. Hell, I probably wouldn’t even sit down without warding a

chair, if I could.

I wrenched the door open just as another bloodcurdling howl split the air and shook the hallway

outside. Hinges groaned—the door was solid steel, four locks and a chain, two of the locks with no

outside keyhole. There was a bar, too, but I hadn’t dropped it in its brackets.

I’d kind of guessed I wasn’t going to be sleeping through the night without a fuss.

Light seared my eyes. I ran straight into Graves, who was fisting at his eyes as he stood in my door.

We almost went down in a tangle of arms and legs. But his fingers closed around my right biceps,