The bus pulled to the curb and opened its doors. Once I paid my fare I sat down in an empty seat behind the driver and looked up.

Jesse pressed his hand to his heart, and then reached toward me. Until tomorrow night, pretty girl. Sleep well.

I pressed my hand against the glass. Be careful.

The ride home gave me a little time to think about all the night’s near-disasters. I hadn’t counted on the visit from the sheriff, but I should have known Trick wouldn’t be satisfied with one check-in call. Getting a job in town was supposed to give me a little of the freedom I so badly needed, not make me feel as if I’d been moved to another part of my brother’s prison.

It hadn’t been a complete disaster. Now I knew about the tunnels, and Jesse’s surprising talents. It made me wonder what he had put away in the locked storage room, too. As shy as he was about his art it would probably take me some time to convince him to show me more, but I could work on that.

The note in the astrology book had been the creepiest discovery of the night, but since I’d never met Julian Hargraves I knew it couldn’t be about me. I certainly wasn’t the only person who had ever been born in Seattle on January twenty-seventh, either.

Trick sat waiting on the bench at my stop, and after the bus took off stood and took my backpack from me. “I should have brought the bike. You look beat.”

Seeing him made me feel that way, not that I would admit it. “I’m okay.”

As we walked down the road to the farm, he gave me the usual interrogation. I told him about the work I’d accomplished and the little present Mrs. Frost had left me. He didn’t comment until I mentioned Julian Hargraves’s collection.

“He’s that recluse who died back in October on Halloween night,” Trick said. “What sort of books did he collect?”

“Just a lot of old stuff.” I wanted to kick myself for mentioning it, but it was too late now. “I always wondered why rare book shops smell funny. Now I know it comes from the books.”

By the time we reached the house I was yawning, and as soon as we went inside I headed for the stairs. “See you in the morning.”

“Cat, would you come into the kitchen for a minute?” my brother asked. “I have something for you.”

Inside the kitchen there was a small red-and-black box sitting on the table. I could have sworn I’d never seen it before, but at the same time it looked familiar.

“Is it an early birthday present?” I guessed.

“More like a late one.” My brother used a little key sitting on top of it to unlock it, and lifted the lid. Inside were little black velvet compartments, each holding different bejeweled stick pins and brooches. “This was Mom’s.”

I reached in and took out a gold pin in the shape of a flower that had petals made of garnet around a center topaz. “I remember this.” I held it up against my blouse in a spot over my heart. “She wore it right here.”

He nodded. “Dad gave her a flower pin every year on their anniversary. He couldn’t afford diamonds, but she didn’t care.”

“It’s nice that you saved them,” I said, picking up a gleaming silver rosebud and admiring the tiny crystals that had been placed like drops of dew. “She would have liked that.”

“They’re yours.” When I stared at him, he added, “As you’re so fond of reminding us, you’re the only girl in the family.”

I didn’t know what to say. “Why are you giving them to me now?”

“They’ll look pretty on the blouses you wear to work.” He came over and kissed the top of my head. “Go to bed now and get some sleep.”

I carried the jewelry case upstairs, and then sat looking through the pins for a few minutes. I always wore the only jewelry I owned, a silver St. Christopher’s medal that had belonged to my dad. I’d been forced to give back to Jesse the ring he’d given me on Halloween night, although he’d told me he would only keep it until I turned eighteen, when Trick would no longer be my legal guardian.

Sometimes I thought about the future, hazy as it was. Someday I would leave Lost Lake with Jesse, and find another place for us, far way from our families. In some of those dreams we got married and had children, just as my parents had. In others I convinced Jesse to change me to be like him and his parents, so we could be together forever.

Now, looking at Mom’s pretty pins, I realized how difficult it was going to be when that day came. Despite all they’d done to me, I loved my brothers. Jesse felt the same about his parents.

I knew our families had their reasons for their mutual hatred—while trying to protect Trick, my mother had once tried to kill Sarah Raven—but Jesse and I had never been a part of that. We might have been born to be enemies, but when we met all we had known about each other was that we both loved to ride at night. We’d fallen in love just like any normal boy and girl. If anything, our natural feelings proved that the Youngbloods and the Ravens didn’t have to be enemies.

Mom and Dad would understand, I thought as I put my mother’s pins back in the jewelry case. But they’re gone, and no one cares what Jesse and I want.

I took off my St. Christopher’s medal and added it to the case before I took it over to my dresser. When I opened the bottom drawer, I saw the shorts I kept there were no longer as neatly folded as I’d left them. I straightened and looked around my room, and realized everything was a little out of place. My brothers had searched my room again while I was at work.

We can’t make any more mistakes, Gray.

The sound the drawer made as I slammed it shut echoed in my heart.

Eight

My new job did have one positive effect on me; as angry and disgusted as I’d been after discovering my brothers had again searched my room, as soon as I got into bed and my head hit my pillow I fell asleep.

I knew I was dreaming when I opened my eyes and found myself alone in the tunnel under the bookstore. Water dripped in slow motion as I followed the passage to Jesse’s room, but when I stepped inside everything was gone.

“Jesse?”

I heard a rattling sound, and saw the knob on the padlocked door turning, first one way and then the other. As I started walking toward it, the room began to stretch as if it were made of rubber. The knob began to shake, and something banged on the other side of the door, first slow and then faster and harder, until the sound made me cover my ears, and then something soft hit me in the face.

I grabbed the pillow, yelping as I pulled it away from my head and sat up.

“About time.” Gray was standing next to my bed. “Come on, you’ve had eight hours. Get up.”

I glanced at my clock radio, which read 8:14 a.m. “Good morning to you, too,” I said as I rolled over and showed him my back. “Now go away.”

“Having a job doesn’t mean you can sleep through your morning chores,” Gray informed me.

“No, God forbid I not get the laundry done before noon.” I dragged myself out of bed and pulled on my robe.

“Use some bleach this time; my socks are starting to look dingy.” He then ducked to avoid the pillow I threw at his head. “Girls can’t throw worth a—ow.” He rubbed the spot on his shoulder where the boot I threw after the pillow thumped him.

“What was that about girls?” I asked as I went around him and headed for the bathroom.

After I showered and dressed I went downstairs to find Gray setting the table for two. “Where’s Trick?”

“He had to go pick up some stuff at the hardware store.” He thumped a bowl down in front of me. “Hot or cold cereal?”

Trick must have told him to make breakfast for me, I thought, and grinned as I deliberately lounged in my chair. “Oh, I don’t know.” I knew how much Gray hated to cook. “I’m more in the mood for French toast, bacon and some fresh-squeezed orange juice.”

“How about I make you toasted raisin bread, maple-raisin oatmeal, and a big glass of prune juice?” he countered.

I shuddered. There was nothing on earth I despised as much as raisins—except maybe prunes. “Cold cereal. Hold the mummified grapes.”

Gray might have been allergic to the stove, but he sliced up a banana for my cornflakes and didn’t hog all the milk. I did my part by clearing and washing up after we finished. I expected Gray to tromp out to the barn, but he sat and pretended to read the paper. He did the same thing whenever he needed to talk but didn’t know how to dive into the conversation.

“Those stalls aren’t going to muck out themselves,” I told him as I put the last glass in the rack to dry and came over to take the paper from him. “So what’s on your mind?”

“Nothing.” He hunched his shoulders. “Okay, there’s a guy who has a strawberry farm a few miles down the road. He’s looking for some hands to help get the fields ready for planting.”

“I already have a job.” Then I got it. “But you don’t, and now you want one. Is this a sibling rivalry thing?”

“Trick has spent a lot of money buying new stock and getting the farm back in shape,” he said. “With the vet bills, the extra feed, all the stuff we’ve done to the barn, there can’t be much left.”

I hadn’t thought things were that bad, but our big brother never talked about our financial situation. “He’s going to sell Rika after she foals.”

He shook his head. “Not as wild as she is. You know Trick. He doesn’t want to pass the problem on to someone else. He won’t touch our college accounts, either.”

“If we run out of money, then he’ll have to. Or he’ll just go get a full-time job,” I said, and then saw Gray’s expression. “You think he’s already looking for one.”

“I know he is. This is the fourth time he’s gone to the hardware store this week, and he’s been taking the paper with him.” He opened the paper to the classified section. “This morning he forgot it.”