Jaclyn moaned again, her eyes now rolling rapidly behind her lids. Sleeping Beauty was close to waking up.

I gave Cole a swift, hard kiss. “I want to talk to Jaclyn alone.” Men had attacked her, so Cole might scare her.

He could have refused or fired off a thousand questions. Instead, he said, “All right” and gave me a swift, hard kiss in return. He left, shutting the door behind him—leaving me trembling.

Would he always affect me this strongly?

I sat at the edge of the bed and patted the top of Jaclyn’s hand. Her skin was cold and clammy. “You’re safe now. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

Gasping, she jolted upright. Her good eye was wide and wild, and she couldn’t quite catch her breath.

“You’re safe now,” I repeated. “You made it to Mr. Ankh’s.”

“Ankh’s,” she repeated, falling back on the bed. Her expression shuttered with agonizing pain. “Justin.”

“Where is he, Jaclyn? Do you know where the men took him?”

“Justin,” she said again, then rolled to her side and sobbed. “I couldn’t save him. I tried, but I couldn’t fight both intruders, so I waited for them to leave with Justin and tracked them. They’re going to hurt him. Hurt him so bad. I need him safe. Ali, I need him safe.”

“I know.” I brushed the hair from her sweat-dampened forehead. “I know. That’s why you’ve got to calm down and think. Talk to me. Tell me the rest.”

She latched on to my hand. “I stole my neighbor’s car. Ours had been disabled. I found the van easily enough and trailed it to a warehouse about an hour away.” She rattled off the address. “There was no one outside, but there were a lot of men inside, and they had a lot of weapons. I snuck through the building, but couldn’t find Justin. I knew I needed help, so I drove to Cole’s, saw the state of the house and drove to Ankh’s.” Her gaze beseeched me. “Who’s out looking for Justin?”

Never one to lie, I said, “No one.”

“What! Why—”

“You passed out,” I said. “We didn’t know where to start.”

She croaked, “How long have I been here?”

Judging only by the time I’d been gone... “About six hours.”

“No!” She threw her legs over the side of the bed. “The longer he’s there, the greater chance they’ve...” Tears streaked down her cheeks and as she stood, her knees buckled. “I have to help him.”

I caught her and let her use me as a crutch. I didn’t lead her to the door, but circled back to the bed. “Listen to me. You’re in no condition to travel. I will gather the other slayers, the ones who haven’t been shot, stabbed or beaten, and we will go to the warehouse. We will find Justin. You have my word.”

I never offered a promise lightly. I would do this or die trying.

“I’ll go with you,” she said, once again trying to stand.

I pushed her back down. Gently, but firmly. “You’d only get in our way, and you know it.”

“No. I feel better by the second,” she said.

Truth? Or exaggeration? Her color was better, and the swelling in her eye had already gone down.

“Alice.”

The sweet voice came from the entryway, yet I hadn’t heard the door open. I twisted, and my heart nearly jumped out of my mouth. Finally! My eight-year-old little sister, Emma—or rather, her spirit—had arrived. She stepped from an almost blinding ray of light, her straight-as-a-pen hair hanging in two dark ponytails. She wore a pink leotard, a pink tutu and pink ballet slippers. The outfit she’d died in.

I wanted to rush over and hug her more than I wanted to take my next breath, but she was a spirit, and just like with zombies, spirit could not tangle with flesh.

I winked at her instead.

The dark eyes she’d gotten from our mother beseeched me. “Alice,” she said again. Almost a moan.

Something was wrong.

My grin fell.

“Ali?” Jaclyn asked. She couldn’t see Emma. Only Cole and I could. I’d always thought it was because I was connected to my sister and Cole was connected to me.

“I’ll be in the hall,” Emma whispered and vanished.

A sense of urgency overcame me. “Stay here,” I said to Jaclyn. “I mean it. I can take care of Justin, or I can take care of you. Your choice.”

She sighed. “Justin.”

“I’ll keep you updated.” I practically sprinted into the hall. Thankfully Emma was the only person in sight, and all the bedroom doors were closed.

“I’m so happy to see you.” And I was. Even if she’d come bearing bad news.

Her hands twisted together as she said, “I heard what happened. Four of your friends were killed and—”

“Four?” I interjected and shook my head. “There were only three.”

She peered down at her ballet slippers. “No. There were four.”

“You’re certain?” Of course she was. When had she ever been wrong? I closed my eyes and let the knowledge sink in. Another life lost. Another friend taken from us.

Only two slayers were still missing. Justin and Collins. So, which one was it?

The urge to fall on my knees and scream, “That’s it! I’ve had enough! No more!” hit me, but I somehow found the strength to remain in place, quiet, another storm of tears on lockdown. There was too much to do. Starting with my promise to Jaclyn.