Intertwined

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, she sipped at her grande white chocolate mocha. Ah, de-freaking-licious. “Like I said, I’m sorry I’m late. I really am. But sadly, my tardiness isn’t the worst of it.”

“Oh, no.” Expression pinched, Penny fell back in her chair. “What’s going on? Don’t break it to me gently. Just rip the Band-Aid.”

“Okay. Here goes.” Deep breath. “I’m not actually done for the day. This is only a thirty-minute break. I have to return to work.” She cringed, waiting for the shouted—

“What!”

And there it was. A small infraction, really, but Penny would see it as a grave offense. She always did. She was a high-maintenance friend who expected their time together to be uninterrupted. Mary Ann didn’t mind. Really. She actually admired the trait. Penny knew what she wanted from the people in her life and expected it to be given to her. And it usually was. Without complaint. Today, however, couldn’t be helped.

“The Watering Pot is providing the floral arrangements for the Tolbert-Floyd wedding tomorrow and all of the employees have to work overtime.”

“Ugh.” Penny shook her head in disappointment. Or was that disapproval? “When are you going to quit your loser job at that flower shop? It’s Saturday, and you’re young. You should be shopping with me as planned rather than slaving over thorns and potting soil.”

Mary Ann studied her friend over the rim of her cup. Penny was a year older than her, with platinum hair, bright blue eyes and pale freckled skin. She liked to pair lacy baby-doll dresses with flip-flops no matter the weather. She was carefree, experienced, had no thoughts for the future, dated who she wanted, when she wanted, and skipped school as often as she attended.

Mary Ann, on the other hand, would vomit blood if she even considered breaking a rule.

She knew why she was the way she was, but that just made her determination to be the “good girl” worse. She and her dad only had each other, and she hated to disappoint him. Which made her friendship with Penny all the stranger, since her dad (silently) objected. But she and Penny had been neighbors for years, had even attended the same preschool when they’d lived miles away from each other. Despite their differences, they had never stopped hanging out. Never would.

Penny was addicting. You didn’t walk away from her without wishing you were still with her. Something about her smile, maybe. When she flashed it, you felt as if all the stars had aligned and nothing bad could happen to you. Well, girls felt that way. Boys caught a glimpse of it and had to wipe away their drool.

“Could you please, please, please call in sick?” Penny begged. “A little dose of Mary isn’t going to be enough.”