Bee didn’t answer right away, but I wasn’t sure it was because she didn’t agree. I suddenly wished she’d turn on the radio or something, anything to ease the heavy silence between us.

“Is this something you knew could happen?” she asked at last, just as we pulled into Ryan’s driveway. “That David could be dangerous?”

It was right on the tip of my tongue to remind Bee that maybe I’d had more reasons to want David to stay in town besides him being my boyfriend. If she and Ryan hadn’t helped him leave town, none of this would be happening. I knew they hadn’t done it to hurt me; they’d thought it was for the best.

And it wasn’t like I’d told them about David maybe being dangerous. I still wasn’t sure why exactly, except that I hadn’t wanted to believe it myself.

“Saylor said some things,” I told her, staying vague as I unbuckled my seat belt. “Let’s talk to Ryan.”

If Ryan’s mom was surprised to see her son’s ex and his current girlfriend at the front door in bathing suit cover-ups, she didn’t show it, although her eyes did drift to the cut on my jaw. But maybe she just assumed it was a lifeguard-related injury, because she smiled and said hello before ushering us inside and calling for Ryan. Like her son, Ryan’s mom had auburn hair and hazel eyes, although he got his height from his dad.

When Ryan came bounding down the stairs, taking in both me and Bee standing there, his eyebrows nearly disappeared underneath that shaggy reddish-brown hair. He was wearing a T-shirt and basketball shorts, but Ryan managed to make even sloppy clothes like those look pretty good. There was no twinge of jealousy as I looked at him—none of us had time for that kind of weirdness—but I still felt kind of wistful when he smiled at Bee. It was nice having someone smile at you like that, and while it didn’t make me miss Ryan, it definitely made me miss David.

That in mind, I gave Ryan what I hoped was a significant look. “Can we talk about that project we’re working on?” I asked him, and he shoved his hands in his pockets, glancing over at his mom. “Oh. Right, yeah, the . . . project.”

Ryan was the youngest of three boys, his older brothers off at college, and while I’m guessing there was a time his mom would have been a little more strict about her sons having girls over, she’d become a lot more laid-back by the time she’d gotten to Ryan.

“Why don’t y’all head down to the rec room,” she said, waving us forward. “I’ll find some snacks.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Bradshaw,” Bee said, tugging at the hem of her cover-up.

As Ryan’s mom disappeared into the kitchen, he turned to me, eyes moving over my face. “Are you okay?” he asked in a low voice. And then he reached out like he was going to touch my neck, only to think better of it at the last second, pulling his hand back. The cut just under my jaw still stung, and I tugged on the collar of my cover-up, wishing I could hide it better.

“We have a . . . situation,” I said, and Ryan looked over at Bee, who was still standing nervously in the foyer.

“Of the Paladin kind, I’m guessing?” he asked, and before I could answer, he walked down the hall, opening the door to the basement steps.

“Come on,” he said, gesturing for me and Bee to follow him. “And tell me what life-threatening crap we’re dealing with now.”

Chapter 4

“YOU’RE SURE it’s David?”

We were all sitting in the basement-turned–rec room of Ryan’s house, Bee and Ryan on the couch, me leaning against the foosball table, arms folded over my chest. Like every other room occupied by Ryan or his brothers, it was covered in sports stuff. Posters of basketball players, dusty Little League trophies lining the shelves, old issues of Sports Illustrated lying around . . . I thought of the pink and flowery living room upstairs and suddenly understood Ryan’s mom a lot better.

But now I glanced back at Ryan, running my thumb along the edge of the table. Sarcasm is never the most useful tool of communication, I know that, but I couldn’t help but say, “I mean, the girl was pretty clear about it, but, hey, maybe someone else is creating magically powered superhero girls? Who can say, really?”

Ryan frowned and I think he would’ve taken the bait, but Bee laid a hand on his leg and shook her head.

His eyes fell to the cut on my neck, and he nodded tersely. “Right. Dumb question. Obviously it’s David, but why?”

“The girl said David thinks Harper wants to kill him,” Bee supplied, and Ryan turned his gaze back to her. They really looked good together, I had to admit: Ryan in his T-shirt and shorts, Bee with her damp hair caught in a loosely curling braid, the torn neck of her cover-up sliding off one tanned shoulder. Take them out of this rec room, put ’em on a boat, and they could be cover models on Attractive Couples Weekly.

“Why would he think that?” Ryan asked, slinging an arm around Bee’s shoulders.

“There was this vision he had once,” I said with a little shrug, shifting my position against the table and reaching out to flick the little plastic ball between the rows of plastic players in red and blue. “And I . . . I saw something during the Periasmos, but Alexander said that wasn’t something that would happen, just what I was most afraid of.”

At the mention of Alexander’s name, all three of us went silent. None of us had liked him—he’d been an Ephor, one of the men who controlled the Oracle, and I’d never trusted his motives—but watching someone die in front of you is still a hard thing, and we’d done it too many times.

Clearing his throat, Ryan sat up a little on the couch and glanced between me and Bee. “So what does this mean, exactly? Why is this happening?”

I chafed my hands up and down my arms. I’d never told them about Saylor’s warning, that this could happen to David, and now it seemed like I definitely needed to. So, as quickly and as calmly as I could, I told them what Saylor had told me, about male Oracles being dangerous, about Alaric going rogue and killing Paladins, and about the threat that David could be on the same path.

By the time I was done, they were both staring at me with wide eyes, Bee pale underneath her tan.

“Why didn’t you tell us this before?” Ryan finally asked, his hands braced on his knees. I made myself meet his eyes.

“Because I didn’t want to believe it was something that could happen,” I replied, and even though he and Bee exchanged another glance, they didn’t say anything.

“But,” I went on, “we can’t be sure that’s what’s happening. Alaric destroyed Paladins; he didn’t create them. And David ran away to escape Paladins and Mages and all of that. Do you really think he’d get somewhere else and then just start . . . conjuring up Paladins again? And why would he send one after me even if he did? That’s never how this thing worked. I was there to protect him, not be . . . sent on assignments.”

The room was uncomfortably quiet, and I had the unsettling feeling that Bee and Ryan were communicating telepathically or something. Not that they could do that—even Ryan’s magic didn’t go that far—but just in the way they both looked at me, nearly identical expressions on their very different features.

“What?” I asked, raising both hands.