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rushed past the reaper and down the hall like a stone from a slingshot. He didn’t feel her pass, he was so focused on the nurse’s fear, which was a good thing. She doubted he’d fall for the trick a second time.
    The impact knocked the air from her lungs and almost took her off her feet. Jocelyn grabbed the door to steady herself. She caught her breath and slipped from her room. She sprinted in the opposite direction, hoping she had enough time and distance to disappear before he noticed.
    She bounced from person to person, borrowing the eyes of people who’d gathered to see what was going on. Popping from patients hanging their heads out of their rooms, to doctors, nurses, visitors, skipping from body to body down the hall, staying one step ahead of herself. She slid around a corner and faced off with another reaper, not ten feet from her. Her eyes traveled from the toes of his boots, up.
    Shit .
    Black hair, a dusky complexion, and an all-too-familiar brand in a tribal design that marred an otherwise perfect male specimen. The brand ran from his forehead, down the side of his face and neck, disappearing into a black T-shirt. Psycho reaper .
    “Ian.”
    “Jocelyn Miller. It’s been a long time.”
    “This isn’t my day.”
    “No, sweetheart.” The reaper tilted his head side to side, cracking his neck each time. “It isn’t.” Jocelyn backed up. A cold breeze from behind fluttered her gown and she spun around.
    “Going somewhere?”
    “I forgot you can teleport.”
    “Yes.” He strode forward. Calm. He knew he had her. “Are we going to do this the easy way, or the hard way?” His ebony eyes cut into her like shards of obsidian.
    “I’ll take option two.”
    “I hoped you’d say that.” He yanked a long, black staff off his back. Red sparks danced from its surface, hissing like a cat. Ian was one of the old ones, a bit harder to take down than the young buck that had chased her earlier. He wouldn’t fall for tricks. Never did. Even worse, Ian gave soul suckers a bad name.
    “Let’s talk about this, Ian.”
    “What’s to talk about?” He shrugged and spun his staff. “This is going to hurt. I could make it quick, but the energy you give off when you feel pain—I get hard thinking about it.” He smiled and his eyes seemed to darken. “You do remember the last time we danced, love?”
    Oh God, that. Unforgettable in all the wrong ways.
     
    ***
     
    New Stratus City
    Eight years earlier
     
    “Where are we going?” Nate asked as Jocelyn prepared to circle the block for the hundredth time.
    She downshifted. No idea what she was doing. Not going to admit it. She could only use the vehicle to escape if she had her brother’s eyes and promised herself she would only run if he stayed behind. What a rather inconvenient game of monkey-in-the-middle.
    “Get out, Nate.”
    “And you’re going to drive this vehicle how, without me?”
    Everything looked quiet and the lights were off. No transporters sat on the street outside the house, but that didn’t mean anything. Since the Enforcers didn’t drive, they could still be waiting for her at the house. She could never go home and since she couldn’t go home, neither would he, and that was unacceptable.
    For the last hour they’d circled and argued. Nate still refused to get out. He’d promised their mother he’d take care of her, and no amount of reasoning with him would convince him she didn’t need a babysitter.
    Regardless that she couldn’t go back, Jocelyn wasn’t ready to face the reality of the situation, and definitely wasn’t ready to take him down with her. She needed to come up with a way to ditch him—leave him behind. She couldn’t. He’d made a point. Without him, she couldn’t see. Without him, she couldn’t drive her escape vehicle away, and the reapers would get her.
    Convincing him to abandon her under these circumstances proved impossible. He wasn’t going to let her sacrifice her life. So here they were, in front