Nick’s voice was echoing in her head, from the night he’d told her their secrets.

A gun to the head is a surefire way to kill us.

God, now it sounded like a premonition.

She’d done this. She should have fought Gareth in the parking lot. She should have screamed a warning. She should have begged Tyler to stay she should have should have should have—

“Damn it, Quinn!” shouted Adam. “Snap out of it! Can you get to your phone? He’s got a pulse. We need an ambulance.”

Nick had a headache.

He couldn’t open his eyes. He kept flashing on waking up in the woods, Gabriel leaning over him.

Come on, Nicky, you’re scaring me.

Air swirled around him, fluttering at his skin, full of pride, seeking his attention.

Yes, yes, he thought. I’m alive. Good job. This just really fucking hurts.

He knew he’d been shot in the head, but only kind of distantly. Like maybe one day he’d be able to look back on this and say, “Well, the one time I took a bullet to the cerebral cortex . . .”

No. That was stupid. If the bullet had gone into his brain, he wouldn’t be lying here thinking about it, would he?

He felt drunk. He wished he could open his eyes.

He wished he could move.

He smelled oranges and cloves.

Adam.

Oh, and Adam was kissing him. This was nice. Breath rushed across his tongue and filled his lungs. Power flared in his chest, finding his blood and sparking through his body.

Another breath and he could move.

Another breath and he could hear. Quinn’s voice. “Come on, Nick. Come on. Please, Nick.”

She sounded so worried. Didn’t she remember their whole conversation about air pressure?

Another breath. Wait, this kissing was all wrong. Nick brought his hands up and captured Adam’s cheeks.

Adam jerked back and swore.

Nick opened his eyes and found wide, panicked brown ones gazing down at him.

“ ’Sup?” said Nick.

“Holy shit,” Adam whispered.

“Holy shit,” Quinn echoed. Her bright blue eyes appeared next to Adam’s.

“It’s . . . it’s impossible,” said Adam.

“Nuh-uh,” said Nick. He shook his head and the ceiling tilted and spun. “It’s physics.”

“He still needs an ambulance.” Adam turned his head to look at Quinn. “Try your phone again. Can you get a signal yet?”

“I can’t even get the stupid thing to turn on.”

Nick sucked in a deep breath, buying himself further clarity. It wasn’t working. His brain couldn’t seem to organize.

Adam was still staring down at him. “He shot you. I saw—I saw—there’s blood—”

“Nothing works,” said Quinn. “Whatever that guy did, there’s no cell signal, no electricity, no cars on the road—”

“Me,” said Nick. He winced as reality started to reform, bringing more pain with it. “I did it.”

“What?” said Adam.