A screen dropped in front of my eyes, just like that day behind the church with David and Ryan. But this time, I couldn’t make any sense of the images. Girls in white dresses, a pool of red liquid on a hardwood floor. Chunks of glass—no, ice—flying through the air. And over the hum of whatever power was linking me and the Starks, the sound of screams. So much screaming.

Almost as suddenly as they’d begun, the images stopped, and suddenly, my hands were at my sides and I was staring at Saylor’s dining room table, my breath sawing in and out of my lungs.

“What—” I said, but Saylor was already getting up, moving so quickly her chair slammed into the wall, scuffing a black mark into the wallpaper.

“David!” she cried, and I turned to see that he was slumped on the floor, head in his hands. I thought the lights were reflecting off his glasses, but then I realized that that wasn’t it. His eyes were solid white.

As Saylor crouched next to him, cradling his head, David began to speak. “The night of the swans,” he muttered. “Power restored, a new era rises, but one must fall. One must give everything. Night of the swans . . .”

“Shhh,” Saylor murmured, smoothing his hair away from his face.

My own face still felt hot and when I glanced down, I saw that all the hairs on my arms were standing up.

David’s eyes fluttered shut, and with a sigh, he sagged against the carpet. As he did, Saylor gently pulled her hands back and rocked on her heels.

Saylor Stark had always been one of the most beautiful women I knew, but now, she looked old and almost . . . haggard. And her eyes, when they studied my face, might have been the same warm blue as David’s, but they were steely and hard and full of something I didn’t have a name for.

“You’re our new Paladin,” she said, and despite all the awfulness of what had just happened, relief so intense it nearly took my breath washed over me. After all this time waiting for my Professor X, it was Saylor Stark. We were going to be fine.

“Well.” Saylor rose to her feet. “We are totally effed.”

Chapter 15

SHE SAID the actual word. Saylor Stark said the F-word.

From his place on the carpet, David started to stir. “What happened?” he muttered, trying to sit up. As soon as he did, he flinched, lowering his head back into his hands. “Did I have a stroke? Is that why I think you said what I think you just said?” he asked Saylor.

“You know,” I said, ignoring David. “You know what I am.”

She didn’t answer. Instead, she walked into the kitchen. I heard the rattle of ice, then a cabinet opening and closing.

David still sat on the carpet, knees drawn up to his chest.