“What is it?” my dad asks, his gaze shifting back and forth between Becks and us.
“He has a picture of Haven,” my mom blurts out.
My dad cocks the gun before I have a chance to correct her. “Why do you have a picture of my daughter in your wallet?”
“Wait, Dad,” I say, and rush in between him and Becks. I don’t know what’s going on here, but I want to find out before my dad shoots him. “That’s not me.”
“Yes it is,” my mom insists. “And he has his arm around you.”
“Haven, step away,” my dad demands. The look on his face is one of determination. Determination to protect his family at all costs, and it scares me.
I shake my head and Becks speaks up behind me.
“I know it looks like her, but that’s not your daughter,” he says. “At least not this one.”
What?
I glance over my shoulder at him and his eyes, the greenest I’ve ever seen, connect with mine. And there’s an apology in them.
“That’s not you,” he says directly to me. “That’s Locklyn. My best friend. Your sister.”
Seven
BECKS
“Thanks,” I say as Emily, Haven’s mom—Locklyn’s mom—hands me a bottle of water. Unscrewing the top, I take a swig, forcing myself to drink.
I’m jittery. And not only because David, Haven’s father, still has my very loaded and now safety-free gun still in his hand, although no longer pointed at me, but because every second that ticks by is one that we might be attacked.
We need to leave now, but Emily and David won’t budge until I’ve told them everything. Which I’m willing to do, just as soon as we’re all safe. Even sitting in their house right now feels too exposed.
The demon knows who Haven is. That’s something I’m sure of. If it knows who she is, it’s truly only a matter of time before it attacks again.
Sitting in an armchair across from me, David stares at the faded picture of me and Ensley with Locklyn, a frown etched on his face. Haven and her mom flit around the house, grabbing items and packing, and for that at least I’m glad. We’re on the same page about leaving, but just a different timeline.
“Who is she?” David asks, finally looking up from the photo.
I’ve already told him this, of course, but it’s clear he doesn’t believe me. “It’s Locklyn. Your daughter,” I try again.
“My other daughter was slaughtered,” he says, the words harsh enough to make me flinch. “So, I ask again, who is this girl?”
I sigh, running a frustrated hand through my hair.
I understand his hesitancy, but we don’t have time for this. Haven doesn’t have time for this. How can he not see that?
“I know that’s what you’ve been led to believe, but Locklyn—Rose,” I say, using her birth name, “didn’t die that night. But she was taken. Taken to the creature world, where she lived the first eighteen years of her life before coming back to the human realm.”
As I’m talking, he starts shaking his head. “That’s impossible. The gates have been closed and monitored by members of the Order for centuries.”
“They found a way through and brought Lock—Rose with them. She was raised with amazing parents who loved her.”
He’s quiet for a moment as he considers what I’ve said, but then asks, “If this is all true, then why did she come back?”
Frustration bubbles up in my chest. Explaining everything is going to take time. Time we don’t have. So I give him a very pared down version and hope it’s enough. Explaining that there was a shifter who found out who Locklyn was and used her to open a portal with Shadow Striker. About how I ended up in the human world and how Locklyn and some friends made their way here to save me.
I can tell he’s still skeptical.
My gaze drops to the gun in his hand. I’m confident I could take it back by force, but I’m trying to earn their trust.
