I smile at that thought. If he were home, he’d find it hilarious that I’m finally at the center of the turmoil. And by hilarious I mean he might crack a small smile. He’s not much for showing emotion.

It’s quite a coincidence that the time he decides to disappear in his quest to “figure things out” is right when all Hades breaks loose in my world. He’s only been gone since this afternoon, but it feels like weeks. So much has happened and I already miss him. I hope he comes home soon.

I’m finally starting to drift off to sleep and the world around me is going soft and fuzzy when I hear the ding-dong chime of a text message. I roll over and grab my phone off the charger. It’s from Thane.

Are you okay?

I blink, trying to bring my brain back to full consciousness. Am I okay? He’s the one who’s run off to places unknown. I should be asking him that question. He doesn’t know what happened tonight though. He’s just checking in, letting me know he’s thinking about me.

Yes. You?

I expect an immediate response, but as I sit there, staring at my phone, I realize that the ding-dong wasn’t a first alert. It was a second chime to let me know about a message I hadn’t read yet. I scroll through his texts and see that he’s sent me five tonight, the last one almost half an hour ago. I must have been in the shower.

I’m about to fall back into bed, thinking he must have given up waiting for me and has gone to sleep, when I get a new message alert.

Good. Night.

This is cryptic, even for Thane. Does he mean that he’s good? Or that it’s good that I’m okay? He doesn’t say a word about where he is, when he’s coming back. He vanished this afternoon with nothing more than a phone call to tell me the cover story he fed Mom. That he’s staying at his soccer teammate Milo’s house. I have no idea where he really is or what he’s doing. And all I get is Good. Night.? My irritation pushes my exhaustion to the side. I sit up and text back.

Where are you? When are you coming home?

I stare at my screen for ten minutes. Nothing. I text again.

Worried about you.

This time, I only have five minutes worth of patience. No response. Instead of texting again, I pull up my contacts and call his number.

My irritation grows as I listen to it ring. And ring. And ring-ring-ring. I tap my feet on the floor in an anxious gesture that drives Mom so crazy, I’ve almost managed to rid myself of it. Except in extreme circumstances.

The call goes to his voicemail, which is nothing more than the generic message that comes with the service. Now I’m starting to really worry. I hang up, ready to call again—and again and again until he finally picks up—when a message chime ding-dongs in my ear.

Don’t. I’m fine. Home soon.

That’s not really the answer I want. I want to know where he is, I want to know that he’s coming home tomorrow, not just vaguely soon. I miss him. I worry about him. And—maybe most of all—I want my big brother’s shoulder to lean on.

But it’s better than no answer at all.

I send one more text.

XOXO

I set my phone back on the nightstand, knowing I won’t hear from him again tonight.

CHAPTER 3

GRETCHEN

When I get to Greer’s neighborhood, the Gegenees giant is lumbering through the park across the street from her house, batting at low-hanging tree limbs. Even after everything I’ve been through tonight, I’m still itching for a fight. The extra adrenaline is still throbbing through my bloodstream. Some days, fighting is the only thing that makes me feel sane. In control.

Since that day four years ago when the oracle read my prophecy, told me I was destined for more than life as the worthless adopted daughter of abusive addict parents, I’ve spent my days and nights honing my skills in hand-to-hand combat. Most of my monster fights are routine. Hunt, fight, send them home. But sometimes, the fight itself is what I need. The challenge of taking down a beast gets my brain working straight again.

Maybe that will help tonight.

The ursa hybrid behind Grace’s building wasn’t any trouble—it was too focused on cornering a fat rat behind the garbage bins. Never saw me coming. Talk about anticlimactic. I hope the giant proves more of a challenge.

I drive Moira up onto the sidewalk, jerking the parking brake into place as I unbuckle. The replacement cargos from my emergency kit in the trunk aren’t outfitted—the pockets are empty of my usual gear. But I don’t want the gear tonight. I don’t need it. I only need my fists.

“Lose something?” I tease as I climb out of the car. “Kitty cat stuck up a tree?”

The Gegenees giant whirls around, its hideous face contorting into a look of shock and then rage. Good. The angrier it gets, the better the fight will be.

Then its gaze rakes over me, taking in my sports bra and cargos as I round Moira’s hood. When it gets to my Doc Martens, it scowls.

“Expecting bare feet?” I ask as I approach. “Or maybe strappy stilettos?”

It looks up, its eyes widening in fear.

“Big tough guy like you?” I crack my knuckles. “Volunteered to take on one of the weaker sisters? I’m so disappointed.”

It starts backing up.

“But here’s a lesson to share with all your beastie buds.” I roll my shoulders. I can almost feel the first punch. “You come after one of us, you get all of us.”

It backs up faster, knocking its head into one of the branches and wincing.

“Now,” I say with a sick smile, “you have to deal with me.”