Gabriel flinched.

“I told you,” Bill snapped. “I told you this would happen if you didn’t keep your abilities in check ”

“We didn’t start those fires,” said Hunter. “We helped. People would have died otherwise.” For the first time, Gabriel thought he understood the guilt in his expression.

It loosened something in Gabriel’s chest, to know he wasn’t alone here, that someone could carry the guilt along with him.

Then Becca’s father said, “People will die. Everyone in this room. When the Guides find out ”

“They might already know,” said Gabriel.

When everyone turned to him, he said, “When the police questioned me, they asked me about the pentagrams in the burned houses.”

Hunter’s eyebrows went up. “Pentagrams? You never said you saw ”

“I didn’t.”

Bill turned to face Hunter, his expression fierce. “You told me you wanted to honor your father’s position. You told me you wanted to know what to do.”

Gabriel glanced at Hunter. His friend had never mentioned Becca’s father, had never mentioned any discussion following their meeting in the food court.

Bill continued. “You wanted to prove yourself am I right?

And I said watch Gabriel Merrick, and you ”

Hunter was out of his chair. “That’s exactly what I was doing!”

“What did you just say?” said Gabriel. A new feeling was coiling in his chest, something bitter and frightening.

But the room had fallen into a stricken silence.

Gabriel stared at Hunter. “That’s why you were following me that night.”

“Nice,” said Becca. She was glaring at Hunter, too. “So you misled everyone around you, huh?”

Hunter shook his head. “No, it’s not it wasn’t ”

But Gabriel was already storming back down the hallway, heading for the front door.

Michael caught him, grabbing him by the arm and shoving him up against the door before he could open it. “You are not leaving.”

Gabriel struggled against him. “Let me go, goddamn it.”

“No.” Michael shook him, hard. “You’re not leaving. Do you understand me? I will tie you up if I have to.”

Gabriel stared into his brother’s eyes, seeing the same exhaustion and fury he knew were reflected in his own.

He wanted to fight, but he was just too tired.

“Fine,” he said. “I’ll go to my room.”

Michael let him go.

And Gabriel walked up the stairs.

Alone.

CHAPTER 38

Gabriel had thought people were talking about him when he couldn’t try out for basketball.

That had nothing on walking through school the Monday morning following an arrest.

People actually went silent when he passed. Kids he didn’t even know were staring at him.

“You want me to walk with you to first period?” said Nick.

“I’m not four,” said Gabriel. He slammed books into his locker, pulling out the ones he needed for morning classes.

Like it mattered. Like he’d be able to concentrate.

He hadn’t wanted to come to school, but he’d needed to get the hell out of the house. Michael had practically boarded his bedroom door shut. Trying to escape for a run had turned into a grand inquisition.

Probably for the best, really. He couldn’t run without thinking of Layne, of the last time he’d tackled the six-mile trek to the horse farm.

How he’d saved her life.

How he had no idea if she was okay.

Nick was still standing there, watching him the same way he’d been watching him since he’d gotten home from the hospital.

“Go,” said Gabriel. “You’ll be late, and I know you hate that.”

His twin didn’t move. Gabriel yanked the zipper closed on his backpack. “Go, Nicky. I’ll be on my best behavior. I promise. I even did all my homework.”

Because he’d had nothing else to do all weekend. He’d ridden the knife’s edge of tension since getting home, waiting for something to happen. For the police to arrest him again. For the Guides to show up. For more information on the pentagrams.

Nothing.

Nick gave him a look. “You’re not going to kill anyone in the hallways, are you?”

He meant Hunter. Gabriel hadn’t heard from him, either

not like he was waiting around for a call.

Gabriel shook his head.

“Really?”

“Jesus, Nick!” Gabriel gave him a shove. “Go. ”

All the students nearby went absolutely still. He could almost hear the collective gasp, like he was going to whip out a weapon. He wished he knew what stories were floating around. He could imagine, especially with the weekend to let people get really creative.

Gabriel slung the backpack on his shoulder and turned away from his brother. “Fine, then I’ll go. I’ll see you at lunch.”

People cleared a path.

In first period, the teacher looked surprised to see him and maybe a little afraid, too. Students left the seats surrounding him empty. No one spoke to him, but the focus of their attention fed his nerves like a shot of caffeine. It almost drove him to act, to live up to this violent criminal reputation he’d earned for himself. But he kept hearing Becca’s father’s voice in the kitchen.

People will die. Everyone in this room.

He slouched in his seat and pretended to be invisible.

People already had died or come close. The pentagrams pointed to Elementals, but he couldn’t reason it out in his head.

Layne’s farm had burned down then Quinn’s house. Were they being targeted somehow? But that didn’t make sense, either. The Elementals in town knew where the Merricks lived they’d marked the house with paint when Becca’s dad first came to town. If they wanted to attack the Merrick brothers, they could just burn their house down.

And what about all the innocent people whose houses had been destroyed?

He watched the clock tick toward second period. Then third.

When he’d see Layne.

He still had her note in his backpack, a little damp from his walk in the rain, but still legible.

Are you afraid of me?

A little.

She wasn’t in the math classroom when he got there, but he yanked his homework from his binder and flung it into the basket on his way past Ms. Anderson’s desk.

The teacher glanced up when he passed, and she was the first one who didn’t look like she expected him to douse her desk in kerosene and flick a match.

“Mr. Merrick?”

He stopped, his fingers tight on the strap of his book bag. He didn’t want to look at her, didn’t want anything to interfere with the cord of tension holding him together.

“Yeah,” he said.

She picked up the homework he’d tossed into the basket and glanced at it, then back at his face. “I understand you had a challenging weekend.”

Challenging. Hilarious. He met her eyes, knowing his own were full of don’t-fuck-with-me. “I’ve had better.”

“Are you okay?”

The question caught him off guard, especially since her expression seemed genuinely concerned. She was the first person to ask how he was doing since the instant he’d been arrested.

His familiar defenses were clicking into place, ready to snap, to flip her off, to blame her for everything, because if she hadn’t caught him cheating, he’d be on the basketball team. He never would have needed Layne’s help, and he never would have gotten into that argument with her father. He never would have gone to that first fire.

And that little girl would be dead. Along with everyone else he’d pulled from a burning building.

He took a breath, feeling his shoulders drop. “Yeah.”

Then, before she could say anything else, he pushed past her desk to drop into his seat.

Taylor Morrissey wasn’t in front of him today, flashing her boobs and flipping her hair. Gabriel looked around she was across the room, sitting at one of the spare desks, glaring at him like he was a serial killer.

He wanted to mock her, but he just didn’t have the energy.

And then Layne walked into the classroom.

She was wearing jeans and those fuzzy boots girls seemed to like, along with a rich purple turtleneck. No makeup, same glasses.

Her hair was down, loose and straight and shining.

Perfectly average, probably, but Gabriel couldn’t look away from her.

Especially when her eyes met his across the classroom and something inside him uncoiled.

He could read the relief in her expression, the longing and sadness and desperation he knew were mirrored in his own. He wished he could hold her, could press his lips against her skin and whisper promises that he’d never hurt her, that he’d always protect her, that he didn’t care what anyone thought of him, that he’d do anything for her, always.

“Hey,” called out Taylor. “Look who decided not to look like a total loser.”

The girls around her snickered.

“That’s enough,” said Ms. Anderson.

Layne was blushing, pushing past the teacher’s desk, her eyes down now. She dropped in the chair beside Gabriel.

“Hey,” he whispered.

Her frenetic movement stilled. She peeked at him through the curtain of her hair. “Hey.”

“Check it out,” said Taylor, her voice loud again. “The burn victim and the pyro. Almost like Romeo and Juliet, right?”

Gabriel whipped his head around, but before he could get a word out, Layne’s hand latched on to his wrist.

“Don’t,” she hissed. “Anything you say, they’ll use it against you.”

He bit back the words and faced forward.

“Ignore them,” Layne murmured. Her hand softened, and she gave his forearm a gentle squeeze. “Just get out your notebook.”

Gabriel turned his head to look at her. His entire life was going to shit, but seeing her here was like finding a little glim-mer of light amid all the darkness. “Your hair is down.”

She blushed a little and moved to pull her hand back.

He caught her fingers, trapping them beneath his own. “It’s pretty.”

“Thanks,” she whispered.

And she left her hand there until Ms. Anderson started talking.

Gabriel still couldn’t focus on class, but now his mind kept replaying the feel of Layne’s hand on his wrist, instead of all the turmoil of the weekend.

A note appeared in the middle of his desk.

I’m glad you’re okay.

He cast a glance right. Her cheeks were still pink, and he’d bet money that her heart was racing in her chest.

He wrote back.

I’m glad you’re okay. Thank you for

having your dad help me.

Her blush deepened. He watched her put her pencil to the paper.

He doesn’t want me to associate with you.

Like that was a surprise. But Ms. Anderson was looking at the class now instead of writing on the board, and he had to wait before he could write back.

What do you want?

Layne’s expression sobered when she unfolded his note. Then she wrote quickly.

I want to understand how you can do what you did.

He stared at those words for a long time and wondered how much she knew. How much she’d figured out. She was staring at him now; he could feel it.

Finally, he nodded, then put his pen against the paper.

Free period? Library?

She didn’t write back to that one, just unrolled it and nodded, then looked back at her work.

He’d caught up with the homework, but Gabriel couldn’t understand a word Ms. Anderson was saying. He kept sneaking glances at Layne, fighting to keep his hands still, wanting to reach out and stroke her hair, to touch her arm, to hold her hand and feel her steady presence balance him out.

Then the bell was ringing and Layne was gathering her things.