Intertwined. Gena Showalter

too, despite the fact that it, too, still possessed its head, and now remained immobile. Even the light in its eyes had died.

      O-kay. What the hell had just happened?

      Oddly, none of his companions had a smart-ass comment.

      “Guys?” he said.

      Still no response.

      “Why were you—” His words trailed off. In the distance, he caught a glimpse of a young girl and forgot about everything else. She was dressed in a white T-shirt streaked with dirt, faded jeans and tennis shoes, strolling just in front of the cemetery. She was tall and thin with straight brown hair anchored in a ponytail, tanned skin and a pretty—very pretty—face. She had earbuds in her ears and seemed to be singing.

      All that dark hair … was she … could she be the girl from Elijah’s visions?

      Aden stood in place, covered in mud and grime, confused, excited, and trying not to panic. If she spotted him and the carnage surrounding him, she’d shriek. People would come gunning for him. They’d track him, wherever he went. They always tracked him. As he’d feared, he’d be sent away and the kinda sorta freedom he now had would be a thing of the past.

      Don’t look, don’t look, please don’t look. The prayer was his own, the souls still strangely quiet. And yet, part of him did want her to look, to see him, to be as intrigued by him as he was by her. If she was the girl he’d seen in those visions … finally …

      She was almost past him. Would soon disappear around the corner. And then, as if she sensed his secret desire, she threw a glance over her shoulder. Aden tensed, catching a glimpse of big hazel eyes and pink lips she couldn’t stop chewing.

      She scanned the area.

      A second later, their gazes met. There was a blast of sound as the world suddenly zoomed in on them—and then nothing. There were no movements. Not their heartbeats, not even their lungs filling with air. There was no yesterday or tomorrow, only here and now.

      They were the only two people who existed.

      This was peace, Aden thought with shock. True peace. Calm and quiet, no voices in his head, pressing him down, pulling him under, vying for his attention.

      Then, everything exploded. There was another blast of sound, as if the world’s focus expanded this time. Cars started back up, birds began chirping and wind whistled through the trees. A sharp gust of it slammed into him and tossed him backward. He landed with a thump, chin jarring his sternum.

      That same wind must have hit her, because she stumbled to her butt with a yelp.

      There was a twinge of sickness in his stomach, and as he stood his limbs hung loose and heavy. A need to run to her filled him—followed quickly by a need to run from her.

      She scrambled upright. After another silent glance, she turned away and rushed down the pass, soon disappearing from view.

      The moment Aden lost sight of her, everything returned to normal.

      Caleb growled, What the hell?

      Pain. Darkness, Eve said, voice trembling. Horrible.

      They’d been hurt? How could souls with no bodies feel pain? “What do you mean?” he asked them, though he suspected part of the answer. The girl. Somehow, some way. That odd stillness when their eyes first met … that strange gust of wind …

      She’d approached and the dead had fallen. The voices inside his head had faded. She’d looked at him and a peace he’d only dreamed about had encompassed him. She’d left and boom, everything had kicked back to terrible life.

      He had to experience that peace again. Could she really be responsible? Was she the one he’d been waiting for?

      Fearing the corpses would rise again, he hurriedly removed the heads of the remaining two. But rather than clean the mess, hiding the evidence of what had happened, he found himself gathering his backpack and chasing after her. There was only one way to find out whether she’d done what he thought she’d done. Only one way to find out who exactly she was.

      Dude, tell us what happened before I start screaming, Julian said.

      “I don’t know what happened. Not exactly.” Truth. He was determined to find out, though. “Are you okay?”

      Multiple shouts of No! rang out.

      Go back to the house. I have a bad feeling about this, Elijah said, sounding more afraid than Aden had ever heard him.

      Aden slowed. Elijah’d had “bad feelings” before, and while they hadn’t been actual predictions, Aden had always heeded them. But what if this was his one and only chance to meet the brunette from those visions?

      “I’ll be careful. I swear,” he said.

      Aden spotted the girl a block from the cemetery. Once again a strong wind jolted him, sickness seeped into his stomach, and then the world around him became all that he’d ever dreamed. Silent, his thoughts his own.

      Dear Lord. She was responsible.

      His palms began to sweat. She rounded a corner, heading into a busy intersection. He stuffed his hands into his backpack and dug out his wet wipes, quickening his step and cleaning his face as best he could. He withdrew a clean shirt and stepped into the shadows, then changed, never taking his gaze from the girl.

      Would she run screaming if he approached her? Bones had been piled around him, after all.

      He waited for his companions to toss out answers, but all remained quiet. It was odd, not having someone tell him what to do, how to do it, or how badly things would end. Odd and strangely agonizing, when he’d thought for years it would be freakishly cool.

      For the first time in his life, he was truly on his own. If he messed this up, he’d have no one but himself to blame.

      He squared his shoulders and prepared to approach the girl.

      TWO

      MARY ANN GRAY SPOTTED her friend and neighbor, Penny Parks, and raced toward the outdoor café. “I’m here, I’m here,” she said, pulling the plugs from her ears, Evanescence fading. She stuffed her iPod in her purse, gave her Sidekick a quick check—only one e-mail from her dad asking what she wanted for dinner. Replying could wait.

      Penny tsked under her tongue as she handed Mary Ann a capped mocha. “Just in time. You missed the raging power outage. I was inside and all the lights flicked off. No one could get cell reception, and I heard a lady say that all the cars on the road died.”

      “There was an outage that caused cars to die?” Weird. Then again, it had been a day for weirdness. Like that boy she’d seen in the cemetery on her way here, who’d somehow caused her to fall—without touching her!

      “Are you listening to me?” Penny asked. “Your face totally blanked. Anyway, like I was saying. The outage happened about fifteen minutes ago.”

      The exact time she’d been at the cemetery, iPod momentarily silent, unexpected wind blowing. Huh.

      “So what took you so long?” Penny asked. “I had to order on my own, and you know that’s not good for my codependency.”

      They plopped into the chairs Penny had been saving for them, the sun shining brightly on their table. Mary Ann inhaled deeply, the scents of coffee, whipped cream and vanilla flooding her. God, she loved Holy Grounds. People might approach the stand frowning, but they always emerged with a grin.

      As if to prove her point, an older couple walked away from the register, smiling at each other over the rims of their cups. Mary Ann had to look away. Once, her parents had been like that, happy just to be with each other. Then her mother had died.

      “Drink, drink,” Penny said. “And while you’re savoring, tell me what held you up.”

      Mouth watering,