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Chapters (61)
  1. Title page
  2. Copyright
  3. Dedication
  4. Chapter 1
  5. Chapter 2
  6. Chapter 3
  7. Chapter 4
  8. Chapter 5
  9. Chapter 6
  10. Chapter 7
  11. Chapter 8
  12. Chapter 9
  13. Chapter 10
  14. Chapter 11
  15. Chapter 12
  16. Chapter 13
  17. Chapter 14
  18. Chapter 15
  19. Chapter 16
  20. Chapter 17
  21. Chapter 18
  22. Chapter 19
  23. Chapter 20
  24. Chapter 21
  25. Chapter 22
  26. Chapter 23
  27. Chapter 24
  28. Chapter 25
  29. Chapter 26
  30. Chapter 27
  31. Chapter 28
  32. Chapter 29
  33. Chapter 30
  34. Chapter 31
  35. Chapter 32
  36. Chapter 33
  37. Chapter 34
  38. Chapter 35
  39. Chapter 36
  40. Chapter 37
  41. Chapter 38
  42. Chapter 39
  43. Chapter 40
  44. Chapter 41
  45. Chapter 42
  46. Chapter 43
  47. Chapter 44
  48. Chapter 45
  49. Chapter 46
  50. Chapter 47
  51. Chapter 48
  52. Chapter 49
  53. Chapter 50
  54. Chapter 51
  55. Chapter 52
  56. Chapter 53
  57. Chapter 54
  58. Chapter 55
  59. Acknowledgments
  60. About the Author

Jude wrapped his arms around my middle. Free went straight for the flying tackle. It didn’t take Duchess long to decide she wanted in on the action. NATO jumped out of the tub to join in, and soon, all five of us were soaked through and soaped up.

Jude climbed to his feet, holding the hose high. “This will not stand!”

I’d just taken a spray straight in the face when I heard the sound of footsteps to our left. I went instantly silent, even as the human part of my brain overrode my instinctual response. I knew those footsteps—light and even, unafraid. There was no threat. No reason to stop playing.

But just like that, the day’s events came roaring back.

I turned toward Cady, and she raised an eyebrow at the fact that Jude, Free, and I were all soaked to the bone.

“Good job,” she told the bloodhounds as they bounded toward her. “You gave the miscreants a bath.”

Part of me wanted to pick up the hose and aim it at Cady. I wanted to play. I wanted to give her what Free and Jude had just given me. But I couldn’t banish the words missing and child any longer.

“One to ten?” I asked Cady. She was the one who’d invented the shorthand—for nightmares, for flashbacks, for times when I needed out. How bad is it, one to ten?

“I’d say I’m sitting at about a six.” Cady shifted her attention from me to NATO, who was bounding toward her. “Don’t even think about it, mister.”

I squatted down and let NATO jump up on me. I was already soaked, and I deeply suspected that Cady’s six was a normal person’s nine.

“You’re going, aren’t you?” I asked. Missing and child were loaded words for Cady, just like they were for me.

My foster mother looked at me the way she had when I was small and angry and caught in a fight-or-flight cycle that neither of us could break.

“I’m not going,” she said. “We are. Get packed.”

Chapter 6

I’d never been a person who cared much about material things. I didn’t have prized possessions. I wouldn’t have thought the idea of leaving home—the house, this room, my bed—would bother me.

A few hours ago, I’d been gnawing at the bit to get out.

But now that we were going someplace else, someplace new with new people and new rules that most humans never had to explicitly learn, I had the urge to put my back to the wall and hunker down. As I stared at my empty suitcase, I thought about the way Cady had said that Saskia would blow through most of her certification.