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"Excuse me?"

"Maybe you guys are trying to hide your relationship, but he can't get near you without finding an excuse to touch your hand or your arm, and you're just as bad."

I glowered at him. "We've been through hell. It's called compassion. Maybe you should try it."

"Yeah, that's not compassion, Maya." He lifted a hand against my protest. "Fine. You're just friends. Point is, Daniel will trust you're okay and get Corey to safety."

Ash surveyed the ground. The three people we'd spotted earlier were still close by. Over at the nearly dismantled stage, the witch looked as if she was getting last-minute instructions.

"Shit," Ash muttered. "I'm going to need to save you."

"Excuse me? No one needs--"

"I'm saving you, so shut up and be grateful." He moved to a crouch. "I'll get to the next tree and jump down. That'll create a distraction. When they take the bait, you run."

He crouched and reached for the limb above his head.

I pushed up. "I'm not letting you--"

He wheeled so fast I nearly lost my balance. "If I'm putting my ass on the line, you'd damned well better stay right there, Maya. You think I'm a jerk now? This is me being nice. You come after me? I won't be nice. Now sit down and wait. They don't know me. They won't do more than chase me a bit and it'll give you time to get away. I'll find you later."

He was right--they wouldn't recognize him. If he could create a distraction, I should use it.

I watched him cross to the next tree. I tensed, ready to leap down and race into the woods. It was the safest place for me. I'd also run past where Daniel and Corey were hiding, so I could warn them if they were still there.

Ash didn't jump down from that tree, though. Once he got to it, he must have realized it was closer to the next one than he thought, and I watched his dark figure make another leap. Then I heard something. A voice I recognized. I swiveled fast, following the sound, hoping I was wrong--

Antone and Moreno walked from an SUV over to where the St. Cloud witch and two men were heading out to begin scouting.

Ash was right. Both Cabals were here. They might be rivals, but it would be in everyone's best interests to work together on some issues. Like rounding us up before we caused trouble.

But if Antone was here . . . I glanced up at the dark shape that was Ash, moving through the third tree.

I got to my feet, grabbed the next branch and went after him. Adrenaline slammed through my veins and I moved so fast that when I was leaping to the third tree, I never even paused to check the distance, noticing only after I jumped that the next branch was too far. A brief flash of terror as I realized my mistake too late. A grunt of surprise from Ash as he saw me jump.

Somehow I landed on the next branch easily, as if it'd been a mere step away. I looked back, wondering how I'd done that. Another power?

Ash let out a stream of hissed profanity as he made his way toward me. "I told you--told you--to stay there. Are you trying to get us both--?"

"You can't jump down," I said, crouched and holding the limb tight as I caught my breath. "He'll recognize you."

"Who'll recognize me?"

"Our . . ." I gulped breath. "Our father."

"What?" His face screwed up. "You mean your dad?" He peered down. "Did he come back?"

"No, our father. Our biological one." I pointed across the park. "Calvin Antone."

He squinted. "That guy over there? In the jean jacket? That's . .

." He was looking away, so I couldn't see his expression.

"It's our father," I said. "We've met. He used to work for the St. Clouds, then he switched sides. He's the one who tipped the Nasts off and started this whole mess."

He continued watching Antone, then gave his head a sharp shake and turned on the branch to face me. "Doesn't matter. No way in hell he'll recognize me. You look like him. I don't."

That wasn't true. When I first saw Ash, I'd thought he looked familiar. Now I knew why. Antone and I might share the same eyes and cheekbones, but Ash was nearly the spitting image of him. What had thrown me was his hazel eyes and brown hair. That's what he meant, I'm sure--that he didn't have our father's coloring. It didn't matter.

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