"C'mon, girls, keep up!"

Cady and I exchanged wary looks as we followed our parents through the thick crowd of people fighting for ferries. The hot sun of Portugal beat down on our hatted heads, the sky almost as blue as the Atlantic Ocean stretched out before us. The sea breeze blew languidly, wrapping around the port's patrons like a blanket. Birds squawked, fishermen pulling

Pia, the youngest of the three of us girls, giggled as she tried to snatch the fish from a nearby fisherman, who was probably bringing it to market. I shifted her to my other side, frowning down at the little devil. At eight years old, Pia was rather tiny for her age and thus was still able to be carried with relative ease - something she never let any of us forget. Between Cady and I, it was amazing she learned to walk at all. She had extremely curly auburn hair cut to her shoulders, and it bounced in time with my stride. Her skin was pale, eyes the color of melted chocolate. Mom always said she was going to be a heartbreaker like me when she grew up.

"I can't believe we agreed to do this," Cady muttered. She'd gotten stuck with our two backpacks when I agreed to carry Pia, and was struggling to keep both of them slung on her shoulders. Her reddish-brown hair was tucked through the baseball cap she wore in an almost-ponytail, the top half of her face covered in shadow. Like me, she wore a tank top and khaki shorts that almost reached mid-thigh. She was shorter than me at five-five, and I was proud to say I was two inches taller than her.

"It's just six weeks," I reminded her. "Besides, did you really want to have to deal with Mom and Dad's disappointed faces if we didn't agree to come?"

She shuddered briefly. "Ugh, no, but still. When I said I wanted to spend my summer at the beach, I didn't mean I wanted to go to an island off the coast of Portugal just so Mom could study possible natives that live there."

I chuckled. "Well, what'd you expect?"

Our mother was a cultural anthropologist who traveled a lot for work, and our father served as her protection. As a result, my sisters and I had learned to take care of each other when we were home alone during the school year - and that was when we weren't traveling to distant, exotic lands. I was pretty sure I wasn't born in the United States, which was why my parents didn't get me a birth certificate until I was five. Oddly enough, it was the same year Cady was born - on a ferry to Brazil. However, when it came to weird birthplaces, Pia won - she was born in a small village in Africa while our parents were studying the natives who lived there centuries before. So none of us could become president, but we didn't really give a damn. We didn't even really feel American - not with how often we traveled and how we immersed ourselves in different cultures for our parents' work. They freelanced for a bunch of universities and the like, offering them more mutable schedules.

Which was why we were sacrificing five to six weeks of our summer vacation to go to an island in the Atlantic Ocean that had just been discovered. It was supposed by my parents' colleagues that it had been underwater for centuries but something had pushed it up, like an earthquake. They'd been hired to check it out. And, of course, our parents couldn't resist.

I stopped walking along the port when I noticed Dad had halted his incessant pace to talk to one of the ferrymen. Cady noticed and leaned gratefully against me on the opposite side where I held Pia. Mom, peppy as ever, skipped up to us.

"So, girls, what do you think of Portugal?" Her eyes, the same dark color as Cady and Pia's, sparkled with excitement, and her curly golden hair jumped along her back. She was an inch or so taller than me and still slender in her late thirties. Her skin was the same creamy color as Cady and Pia's, while I had Dad's olive complexion.

"It's hot," Cady retorted. "Dammit, when are we gonna get there? I'm ready to collapse from carrying all this stuff."

Mom slapped Cady on the back, and she flinched; Mom didn't always temper her strength. "Oh, chin up, honey! This is fun. Dad's just negotiating with the ferryman and then we'll be off. No one's really been to the island yet, so we'll be going alone - no guides."

We shrugged, accepting this. Mom and Dad hated bringing guides along - they preferred to work alone or with us, making it a family experience. We'd hardly ever had them, and when we did, it seemed like we always had to restrain Mom from punching them when they got condescending and became tour guides. However, it was a little worrying, going to an island no one had charted completely alone.

Mom, ever observant, smiled at me. "Don't worry, Ariane; Dad brought the guns. We're not going in unarmed."

I nodded. Dad was a former Marine who was honorably discharged at twenty when he was badly injured in an attack somewhere. When he recovered, he went into the guiding business as a guard for scientists and the like, and ended up guiding a bunch of undergrad anthropologists - Mom included. That was how they'd met. Two months later, when the expedition was over, they married, having me a year after. So, naturally, Dad made sure every one of us knew how to use guns, knives, and staffs, as well as various forms of martial arts - even little Pia could hold her own.

"Alright, kids, we're golden." Dad strode up to us, wrapping an arm around Mom's waist while the other held the duffle bag full of weapons. He was taller than most at six-five and built like a wrestler - he'd done it in high school. His sable hair was cut in military fashion and he wore a dark T-shirt and cargo pants with combat boots. I mostly resembled him, with my hair being just as dark as his in comparison to my sisters' and mother's lighter colors. I was also the tallest of my siblings, and my eyes were a deep evergreen color that Dad said his mother used to have. We also got along the best, as Dad and I spent a lot of time at the shooting range. Many people assumed I was the son he never had, but Dad said he was glad he had three beautiful daughters - it meant he could train them to do more acrobatic moves many boys couldn't. And he loved to see the looks on people's faces when they saw our skills.

"So does this island have a name yet?" I asked, following Dad and Mom onto the ferry. I finally put Pia down, ignoring her whine of displeasure. When it became clear I wasn't picking her up again, and Cady just glared at her, she turned her attention to Mom.

"Nope," Mom replied excitedly, hoisting Pia into her arms. "We're probably going to be the first people to set foot there in years." She was practically jumping with her excitement.

Dad laughed and kissed the top of her head. "Dear, you'd better calm down. We don't want Pia to throw up."

Cady and I took one look at Pia's face and started laughing. Pia's seasickness was legendary among our family, and always the butt of jokes when traveling. The poor kid sometimes couldn't even look at a boat without throwing up.

Mom, stopping her movements, rubbed Pia's back and cooed soothingly to the girl. She and Dad stayed pressed to the railing when the ferry pushed out into the sea, smiling at all the sights, but Cady and I sat back on the padded seats behind them. We'd been to Portugal before when we were younger, but not for many years - I think Cady was only three in contrast to my eight, but with her eidetic memory she still remembered everything. To avoid boredom, we started chatting when we knew our parents were too preoccupied keeping Pia from puking to notice us.

"So what happened with you and Scott?" she asked, grinning at me. "I thought you were actually gonna give him a shot, Ari."

I shrugged. "Scott was nice, just not my type."

She gave me a knowing look. "No one's your type. Mom's starting to worry about you."

"I'm sixteen - I've got time." It wasn't like I was an old maid. Mom's worry was unfounded and a little irritating. "And I still date."

"You go out on one or two, then you dump the guy. Scott's the only one that's lasted four."

"He was too sweet to shake loose," I muttered.

Cady made an annoyed sound in the back of her throat. "There it is again! The excuse. You always find some reason to not continue seeing someone - they're too nice, too arrogant, too stupid, eat too much garlic - okay, I'll give you that one - but it's always the same pathetic excuses. Can't you just give someone a chance? Someone real?"

I rolled my eyes. "They're not excuses - they're reasons. And I just don't connect with any of the guys. Don't get me wrong, it's not like I expect love at first sight, but ..." I trailed off, turning my gaze onto my parents. "I want what Mom and Dad have. They'd only known each other three months before they married - they just knew it was right. They connected. They're completely dedicated to each other, and they're definitely still having sex." We both paused to shudder at that. Our parents' nookie sessions were traumatizing to all of us, and Cady and I had done our best to keep Pia ignorant, but we both knew she was aware of it.

Cady sighed, tugging on her russet ponytail. "You mean you want Dream Boy."

I flushed, ducking my head so that my hair provided some cover. "I told you that in confidence. Why do you always have to throw it back at me?"

"Because you keep comparing real guys to him, and it's not fair."

Dream Boy, as Cady called him, was a guy I'd had recurring dreams about ever since I was thirteen. For three years, he'd haunted my sleep, growing increasingly more sexual. I only told Cady about him two years ago when we were camping in the Rockies and I apparently cried out for him in my slumber. Once I started dating, I couldn't help the comparisons, the feeling that each guy - and admittedly there weren't many - wasn't the one I was meant to be with. Cheesy, yes, but I wanted true love or nothing at all. And Cady, always the pragmatist, was determined to make me "see sense".

"I can't help it," I muttered, hitching my knees up to my chest as we sat on opposite sides of the cushioned bench, staring at each other.

"You should really get some sleeping pills or something," she counseled. "They might help."

"Tried that. Short of heavy duty prescriptions - which I am not trying - it isn't gonna work."

She sighed. "I don't know what else you want from me."

"Hey, you brought it up, not me." At age eleven, Cady was determined to improve my dating life as best she could - at least until she got one of her own. Dad said we all had to be thirteen before we started dating, and Cady still had a couple years to go. But because the little twerp was such a fricking genius she was mentally in her twenties. She even went to a special private school that she excelled at. Me, I was completely normal, save for the dreams and my unusual ability to communicate with animals. And it wasn't even communication - they just understood me and I just understood them.

"True," she acquiesced. "So how's the swim team?"

I grinned. Now here's a topic I could get into. "Awesome. We have some pretty good incoming freshmen, so we think we might make it to nationals this year." I was on my high school's swim team and our five-hundred meter freestyle swimmer, so I had an excellent endurance and a love of the water.

"Girls, come look!" Dad called, drawing us out of our conversation. "There it is!"

Exchanging exasperated glances, Cady and I stood up and moved over to where our parents were. Leaning over the railing, the sea breeze blowing through my hair, was when I got my first look at the island.

It was average, probably around half the size of Madagascar, with a ring of fog surrounding its bottom half. A large mountain peaked on one side, and trees layered almost the entire surface. Birds flew around the tops of it, cawing happily. It looked like something out of a Jules Verne novel. And, for some reason, it felt familiar. My heart swelled, tears pricking my eyes, and the oddest thought crossed my mind.

I'm home.

#

We docked at a beach on the west side of the island. Unloading our equipment, we thanked the ferryman and told him to come back in a couple weeks with more food. It wasn't really necessary, though; we could fish, hunt, and gather well enough, and I actually enjoyed fishing - by diving in and chasing the fish. But that's what my parents' benefactors for this trip paid him for. Waving goodbye until he was far enough away, our parents grabbed the various bags and satchels as we began trekking into the jungle. My entire body vibrated with excitement, heart pounding against my chest until I was pretty sure I'd have a bruise in the shape of the organ. Everything about this place struck me as familiar, as home, but I was certain I'd never been here.

Cady nudged me. "Ari, you okay?"

"Fine," I squeaked, shouldering the bag containing the tent that my sisters and I would be sharing. Taking Pia's hand in mine, I followed my parents into the jungle. The trees were taller than any I'd seen before, resembling those found in rainforests. There was plenty of animal life - birds, rodents, the like. I had a feeling there were probably some larger predators here, too, but they hadn't come out yet. Maybe they were nocturnal.

"This place is amazing," Cady said, gazing up at the sunlight filtering through the trees in awe. A blue morpho butterfly fluttered across her, briefly pausing on her shoulder before continuing on.

I had to agree. From all that we'd seen, this place was perfectly preserved, and the animals had wasted no time inhabiting it. But how were some of them here? If the island had been underwater until now, how had mammals gotten here so quickly? Had others come here and brought them? It didn't make sense.

"I don't see any signs of life," Mom muttered, pausing every now and then to look at trees. "And I'm beginning to disagree with the idea that this place was underwater. It can't have been. There's nothing to indicate it."

"Maybe the fog hid it," Cady suggested. "I mean, that could happen. This place is literally smack in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean and on a fault line. Maybe it moves as the plates do."

As my family continued to discuss, I merely kept staring. The hair on the back of my neck raised and I shivered, my instincts screaming that we were being watched. But as I scanned the area, I didn't see any place for animals or humans to hide, save for up high in the trees. The canopies were extra thick, offering a cover for anyone who didn't want to be seen, but I doubted anyone could actually climb up that high, as most of the branches were on the upper half of the trees.

"Cady," I whispered, grabbing her hand and yanking her closer to me.

"What?" she hissed.

"Something doesn't feel right. I think someone's watching us."

She frowned. "Someone else could be on the island. I mean, it's been known to the scientific community for at least three months." She moved forward, as if to alert our parents, when I pulled her back.

"No, don't let them know we're onto them." I had a seriously bad feeling about this. It was like I was being ... hunted.

She gave me a weird look but nodded. "Okay, Ari. I trust your instincts."

That feeling prevailed as we continued our hike, and not even the oasis of animals and vegetation was enough to distract me. We saw toucans, butterflies, a few apes. Eventually, we stopped in a clearing near a pool to set up camp. With Cady and Pia, I went to work setting up our three-person tent. Mom and Dad set up their tent, as well as starting a fire and tossing out energy bars for us to eat before dinner. The sun was beginning to set, tinges of orange on the horizon. I gazed at it. I'd always loved sunsets and sunrises upon the ocean. It was the most beautiful sight to behold.

Sitting around the campfire upon the lush green grass, Cady nudged me, handing me a fish that Dad had caught in the pool a few feet away from us. "Do you still feel it?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Somehow, it's gotten worse."

"Are you sure it's a person and not an animal?" she asked doubtfully. My instincts were always right, but I sometimes couldn't deviate between a person and a human. I'd more than once made a mistake about that.

"Positive." The predatory gaze I felt on my back was definitely a person. It roved over me, raising gooseflesh as it went, as if memorizing every one of my curves. I ducked my head, trying to curl in on myself. I wished the sensations would stop. I could hardly enjoy the fresh air around me, virginal to the smells of the city and industrialization. It was pure and magical, and I loved it, closing my eyes and inhaling deeply. I felt as if my entire body was being rejuvenated just from being here.

A hand caressed the back of my hair, following the length down to my waist.

Eyes snapping open, I whirled around, having drawn my boot knife for added measure. But there was nothing except the unremittingly darkening jungle, the sounds of the fire accompanying those of the animals. But I could've sworn I felt someone out there, hiding in the shadows, watching me. Waiting for something.

"Ari?" Cady whispered, her hand gently folding over the one clutching the knife. "What's wrong?"

I whipped back around, repressing a shudder as I stashed the knife in my hiking boots once more. "Nothing, Cady. I just ... I could've sworn someone touched my hair just now."

Before Cady could ask anything more, Dad cleared his throat. "Okay, as for guarding schedules. We'll be working two-hour shifts. Ari and I will take the first shift, with Kelly and Cady on the next. Pia, you'll be with me and Ari on the third. We'll rotate off like this until morning."

We all nodded our agreement. The guarding schedules were normal for us, and Dad always insisted we work in pairs - it was safer that way. Pia, being so little, usually helped with Mom's shifts. I watched as Dad set his clock out beside the fire, then rummaged through the weapons duffle bag to pull out two Glocks. He handed one to me, along with an extra clip in case I needed it. As Mom, Cady, and Pia set up their sleeping bags - and mine and Dad's, too - Dad and I took our respective positions on opposite sides of the fire. I faced our tents, and Dad faced the expansive jungle behind us.

"So how're you enjoying the trip, Ari?" Dad asked, his voice carrying over the crackling of the fire.

I shrugged, even knowing he couldn't see it. "It's nice here. I like it. It's so peaceful and beautiful, but I'm beginning to wonder why no one found it sooner."

"So am I, kid," he muttered. "With a freaking mountain, I doubt this place was ever underwater. The mists probably covered it. As for inhabitants, Kelly and I aren't sure anymore. The infrared readings said that there weren't any people here, but we're finding signs that there are."

"Like what?" I shivered, pulling a sweatshirt from my bag and slipping it on.

"Tracks - human tracks. Some go up in the trees, others are scattered on the ground. They're covered okay, but not well. I don't think these people are used to covering their tracks, which probably means limited contact with the outside world." Dad paused. "Ari, are you getting one of your feelings? You and Cady seemed worried."

Of course he noticed that. Dad was first and foremost an army man. "I feel like someone's watching us." Watching me, actually, but there was no need to worry him with that. I could handle myself. I had the Glock ready, as well as my knives. I could go into battle and come out the victor.

"Me, too," he replied. "Be extra vigilant tonight, kiddo. I've got a bad feeling about this place."

Weird. I had the exact opposite. Aside from the creepy feeling of being stalked, I really liked it here. I felt more at home on this island than I ever had in our home in Maine. But again, I kept that to myself. I was used to doing that.

Dad and I didn't talk anymore - it was better if we didn't, so there was less chance of anyone finding our campsite. I used that time to yank my hood over my head and try to ignore the sensations running through me, urging me to run away from the person watching me so forcefully.

Two hours later, Dad stood up and went into his tent to wake Mom. I went into mine and shoved Cady awake, handing her the Glock before crawling into my sleeping bag for the measly two hours I would be getting. The only drawback to trips without guides was the fact that we rarely got any good sleep. Only Pia did, and that was because she was the youngest. I doubted I'd be sleeping at all before it was time for my next shift.

Burrowing into my sleeping bag, I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to will myself asleep. But my heart wouldn't stop jackknifing, my pulse continuing to race my blood to see which could kill me first. I shuddered as I ordered my body to shut the hell down.

"Shhh, Ari," a voice whispered. "Just relax and sleep. You are safe here."

As if obeying the voice's command, my eyelids grew heavy, my body slowing down to a languid pace. My mind began to slink off to the dark recesses of sleep when something warm and solid engulfed my backside. I sighed, snuffling back as an arm draped itself around my body, spooning with me from behind. I instinctively knew the feel of the person behind me, even through the thick sleeping bag. It was Dream Boy, as Cady called him. I must've been dreaming. I shifted so that I faced him, leaning my head back so I looked up at him.

As always, he was breathtaking. A true Michaelangelo. He was tall, at least six-five, and his entire bronzed body was padded with hard, sleek muscle. Golden hair fell past his shoulders, accenting a strong jaw and aristocratic nose. Sparkling emeralds looked back at me from his eye sockets, and my gaze fell down to his chest. There, on his right pectoral, was a violet flower - almost like a tattoo. It seemed to grow every time I saw him in my dreams, as if it were blooming on his skin. It looked so real, so lifelike, that I felt if I touched it that it would be real.

He smiled at me, revealing pearly white teeth. "Hello, calla."

It was the weird name he called me in that accent of his I couldn't place. Grinning, I huddled against him, instinctively breathing the ocean scent I associated with him.

"Thank the gods," he whispered, crushing me tighter against him. "I thought I'd never get to hold you like this again."

I giggled quietly. What was he talking about? He held me all the time - practically every night for the past few months, when the dreams had started appearing more often.

"Ari," he breathed, nuzzling me with his nose. I sighed, leaning closer to him. Damn this fucking sleeping bag. I wanted him to hold me, skin-on-skin.

"I missed you," I whispered, the words bursting from me without forethought. Which made no sense, as I saw him often enough. And he wasn't real. How could I miss someone who wasn't real?

He chuckled, and I felt it as his chest moved. "I love you so much, Ariane. I was so afraid you'd never return home, that you'd be stuck with the humans you call family forever."

I frowned. Up until now, he'd never mentioned anything about my family. I backed away from him slightly so I could frown up at him. "I'm not stuck. I'm happy where I am."

His face hardened, all good humor fleeing. "Be that as it may, it's well past time you returned to your people - to your real family. To me. And I'm going to make sure you do just that. I've been waiting for you for over a decade, and I'm not letting you disappear again." His grip on me tightened, and he hauled me closer. "Now, I want you to listen to me and remember everything I say. Can you do that for me, calla?"

"Yes," I murmured, unable to resist him for long.

"Your ... family's expedition has incurred some unforeseen consequences," he whispered. "Poachers have followed you to this island. They will kill all the animals here that are extinct in other parts of the world and will kill you. You need to prepare yourself. If you see anyone, it doesn't matter if they're friendly. If they're not me, shoot them on sight - or at least hold them at gunpoint."

I froze at his words. For the first time since this dream began, I doubted. It felt too real to be a dream, more real than the ones I'd had in my bedroom for the past few years. But no, it wasn't possible. Dream Boy couldn't be real. He was a figment of my imagination. How could I dream of someone I'd never met before? But even so, I had to know something.

"Who are you?" I'd asked the question before, but he'd only smiled and kissed me to distract me.

He pulled back, gazing down at me with such fervor in his eyes that I knew at once this had to be a dream. No one looked at me like that, not with so much love and passion. That was the way Dad looked at Mom. True love and ardor. I relaxed again.

"I am Vael," he replied. "And you already know who I am, Ari. You've known since you first dreamed of me. It's why no other man is right for you, why you never feel a connection with them."

I shook my head. "I don't understand."

He smiled sadly. "I know. But you will soon, I promise." He leaned down and kissed me chastely on the lips. However, at first contact, I reacted like I had in all the dreams before this one. I moaned at the heat racing through my body and extracted my arm from the sleeping bag, wrapping it around his neck and dragging him closer to me. I kissed him fiercely, slipping my tongue into his mouth. He moaned back and returned my feverish lip-lock, his hands roaming every inch of my body they could reach, as if memorizing me. Eventually, they twined in my hair, anchoring my mouth to his.

All too soon, he yanked himself away, almost slamming into the side of the tent. He was panting, his amazing hair disheveled. "I have to leave," he breathed. "I have to leave before I do something we'll both regret."

And then he was gone, before I could say anything more. I sighed in disappointment and turned around in my sleeping bag, snuggling into it. It seemed I couldn't even keep dream guys. I shut my eyes.

Two seconds later, I was being shoved awake. "Ari, wake up! It's your turn again."

Cady. I groaned and forced myself up, shooting my little sister an irritated look. She just shrugged and plopped down into her sleeping bag, probably asleep before she even hit the ground. I crawled out of my sleeping bag, muttering to myself. Belatedly remembering Pia was supposed to be with us, I leaned over Cady and shook my baby sister.

"Pia," I hissed. No response. "Sweetpea, you've gotta get up. You're on the third shift with Dad and me."

Pia yawned and turned over, frowning sleepily at me. "Who was he?" she asked quietly, her voice still carrying a child's cadence.

I frowned at her, but kept my voice down for Cady's sake. Although, it probably wasn't necessary; Cady slept like a freaking bear in hibernation. "Who was who?"

"The man," Pia whispered, blinking up at me. "The one you were kissing."

Ice flooded my body. Casting a wary look outside, where I could see Dad's boots, I returned my attention to Pia. "What are you talking about? I wasn't kissing anybody."

"Yes, you were," she disagreed. She sat up, stretching briefly. "I saw him. He was tall and tan and blond. He told you his name was Vael."

Oh my God. It wasn't possible. Pia had to have heard me muttering in my sleep. People were known to do that, right? It was called sleep-talking or something. Yes, that was it. Pia didn't see him. In her slumbering state, she just thought she saw him.

"Pia, are you sure you didn't just hear me talking about him?" I asked.

She shook her head. "No, I saw him. I was awake the entire time. He was holding you, kissing you, and you let him." She sounded awed at the end, with damn good reason. Everyone in my family knew my discomfort with the opposite sex. And the ones I was comfortable with normally ended up getting their asses dumped.

"Listen, Sweetpea, don't tell anyone about that," I told her sternly.

She nodded. "Okay."

Together, we exited the tent and left Cady to snore in peace. Dad grinned at us, handing me a Glock, and stationed me and Pia facing the tent. She leaned against my free arm, the caricature of a cherub. I rested my head on the crown of hers, breathing in the scent of my baby sister. Pia was naturally quiet and very observant, taking after Mom's side of the family - genii. Me, I was like Dad; give me a gun over an encyclopedia any day. It was also why Dad and I mostly handled the guns; Cady, Mom, and Pia were all more intellectuals than fighters, but could hold their own in a fight if they had to.

Pia stiffened against me. I looked down at her, and she pointed into the jungle.

I cocked the Glock, standing up slowly while pushing her behind me. Dad noticed my movement and backed me up, a tranquilizer gun in his hands. He slipped me a flashlight, and I held it over the Glock, slowly approaching the jungle. "Who's there?" I called.

There was a slight rustling of the shrubs, so soft that I barely noticed it. I whirled, aiming at the bush. In the dark shadows of the night, I saw two glowing emeralds. Vael's eyes. I'd seen them in my dreams - they glowed, sometimes.

Pia's words rushed back to me. Oh God. What if it was him? What if he was seriously real? It was impossible, but then again, my family spent most of their time proving impossible is only improbable. And I knew, without a doubt, those were his eyes. I'd stared into them for three years; I would know them anywhere.

The emeralds started backing away, growing smaller as the distance between us increased. Fire burned in me, a rage like I had never known followed by a hollow hurt in my stomach. I took off after the emeralds, using the flashlight to guide me. I could hear the shouts of my family behind me, but I ignored them. He wasn't getting away. Not until he gave me a fucking explanation as to what the hell was going on.

With my endurance from swimming, I could run for a long while. I'd even participated in some triathlons in my time, and my sprinting was almost as good as my freestyle swimming. No one could keep up with me when I really started going. I leapt over roots, keeping my eyes on the emeralds growing to pinpoints and the shaky beam of the flashlight that guided me.

Then, they disappeared. Just like that. The pinpoints were gone, without even a hint of them left. I halted, throwing a hand out against a tree to steady me. My breathing was slightly labored as I looked around wildly, swinging the flashlight left to right and back again. Dammit, where was he? Where the fuck was that asshole?

"Ari!"

I whirled, Glock at the ready, when I saw that it was Cady. She was panting heavily, swaying on her feet. It had taken all of her waning energy to keep up with me, I realized, and her skin was paler than usual - as if she was almost dead. I hurried over to her, catching her as she collapsed. Sitting back on my heels, I laid her head on my lap and stroked her forehead, trying to sooth her as much as I could. What had she been thinking? Why had she followed me? Well, no matter, we'd just head back once she woke up.

Except ... where was back? As I continued to inspect my surroundings, I realized that I'd gone farther than I'd anticipated. I didn't see any familiar landmarks, nothing to mark my path, and I couldn't even see our family's campfire. I was alone with my sister in a strange jungle with only a Glock and a boot knife to protect us. Cady had most likely stripped herself of her weapons before bed, though I never did.

Damn Vael. He had done this on purpose. I just knew it.

I was going to strangle that bastard for putting me and my sister in danger.