“Are you sure?”

“Man, I was a little buzzed last night, but not drunk enough to forget that.” Yep, definitely not helping. “Is this Photoshopped? Or is this chick for real?”

“You don’t know who this is?”

The bed springs creaked. “I’m telling you, I’ve never seen her before in my life.”

“That’s interesting,” the cop said in a way that said he found it to be something a bit more than interesting. “Haven’t you been watching the news lately?”

“The news? No. I can’t really afford cable at home, been laid off from the plant for six months now. I’m actually on my way up to Denver to see about a job my cousin thinks he can get me.” Liam shifted on the bed again. “Has something happened to this girl? Is she missing or something?”

“Or something,” the cop said. The sound of paper on paper and then, “Here’s my card. If you change your mind, decide maybe this is the girl you were with last night, give me a call.”

“Of course.” Liam stood up and moved towards the door. “Sorry I couldn’t be more helpful. I hope they find this girl, and she’s okay and everything.”

The cop snorted. “Don’t count on it.”

I was going to wait until Liam gave me the all clear before coming down, but then I felt something on the back of my neck. Something hairy and crunchy.

I rolled out of the ceiling and onto the vanity, pulling chunks of hair out in my attempt to get the hell spawn off of me.

Liam was completely unaffected by my hysterics. While I frantically searched my body for creepy-crawlies, he turned the TV to CNN. After a story about yet another celebrity entering rehab after making a complete and total idiot out of themselves within twenty feet of someone with a video camera, which is to say “in public”, my face appeared on the screen.

“The search still continues for Harper Donovan, granddaughter of Senate Majority Leader William Harper,” the anchor woman said as I stared at my senior yearbook picture. “Donovan has been missing since a car crash over two weeks ago. The crash occurred just miles from her home, and according to the Senator’s spokespeople, was the work of a radical militant group known as God’s Army of Defenders.”

The screen changed to show a video of people examining a crash site in what appeared to be the Land Between the Lakes National Forest near my home in Lake County. It was hard to see past all the emergency response vehicles, but the cameraman finally got an angle clearly showing the car my grandfather gave me for graduation wrapped around the trunk of a tree.

“The crash occurred around 3:00 a.m. on the morning of August third. According to a statement given to police by the girl’s parents, Donovan had been camping with her brother and some friends that night. One of the crash survivors, Talley Matthews, said a large, unmarked black SUV began following them as soon as they left their campsite to head into town for provisions. When Donovan, who was driving, tried to lose the vehicle, they began nudging the smaller Toyota. Eventually, Donovan lost control, crashing into a tree at what experts believe to be about forty miles per hour.”

The screen cut back to the studio where a stone-faced anchor woman relayed the lies of the night I went missing. “In a press conference given two nights ago, local police stated that after the crash three men in masks approached the car. Two of the men held guns on the other occupants as a third lifted an unconscious Donovan out of the vehicle and carried her back to their SUV.

“Four people were in the car when it crashed. Matthews and Jase Donovan, Harper Donovan’s step-brother, both escaped with minor injuries. Charles Hagan, the third passenger, is still in critical condition due to both injuries sustained in the crash and a bullet wound inflicted when he attempted to stop the abduction of the senator’s granddaughter. Although his wounds are extensive, Hagan is expected to make a full recovery.

“Another unidentified man who came to assist when he heard the car crash is also in critical condition due to a gunshot wound inflicted during the incident. He is reported to be on life sustaining equipment and doctors are not hopeful about his prognosis.”

I sucked in a breath and then couldn’t let it out again thanks to my throat, which decided to close itself off.

“The incident was kept under wraps until just three days ago when Senator Donovan released a statement to the press stating he had received a ransom demand from known members of God’s Army of Defenders. The letter was received by his office on August fifteenth and verified by government intelligence officials as legitimate twenty-four hours later. In the letter, of which CNN has been able to obtain an exclusive copy, a member known as Michael Avett asks for several members of both his organization and the Secret Brotherhood be released from government holding facilities by the end of the month if the senator wants to see his granddaughter alive again.

“As you may remember, Senator Harper has been very outspoken--”

“Turn it off,” I choked out through the tiny opening that was once my throat.

“--Many experts believe his vote on Senate Bill--”

“Turn it off!”

The screen went black, and I concentrated on pulling air into my lungs.

“Charlie…” Oh God. I had left him standing there in the middle of all that carnage knowing the rest of the Alpha Pack was closing in. What did they mean critical condition? Two weeks in critical condition was bad, right? I mean, if he was going to get better, he would have by now. And a gunshot wound? I had heard the gun go off, and I kept running. I chose my life, my freedom, over Charlie’s. What the hell was wrong with me? “What will they do to him when he recovers?”

“Depends on what happens to Stefan.” Liam began moving around the room, shoving the few things we had back into the two duffel bags that had been in the trunk of the car when we made our escape. “If he lives, he will be under the protection of the Alpha Male, putting him on the exact same level as any children Stefan and Sarvarna might have. Even if he dies, Charlie will probably be offered a position in the Alpha Pack.”

I opened my mouth, shut it, and then tried again. “Charlie shot Stefan.”

Raising a single eyebrow, Liam said, “You shot Stefan.”

“No, I’m pretty sure it was Charlie.” There may be many things wrong with me, but memory loss isn’t one of them. It was the night of my trial, after the Alphas delivered the guilty verdict. Not one to keep an innocent girl wasting away on death row, the Stratego led me out in the woods to dutifully remove my head from my shoulders. My arms were handcuffed behind my back. Charlie had hugged me, a last goodbye, and then pulled a gun. He shot Stefan in the chest before the Stratego tackled him.