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‘I don’t know yet, but I have to do something to find them.’

‘But, Eb …’ Something in my face stops her from finishing whatever she’s on the verge of saying. Instead, she runs over to her desk, collects a notebook and pen and walks out the door with me, uttering, ‘We’ll find your parents together.’

And I know then I have the
best
best friend in the world.

Amber rings every local institution from medical to recreational in Cedar Oakes, even the cafés in town that open for breakfast on a Sunday, on the off chance someone swung by and took my parents out.

But Cedar Oakes isn’t a big town and it doesn’t take long to run out of possibilities.

Needing air, and needing to be alone, I run down to the stables and tell Shadow everything, keeping my hand on the steadying thud of his heart. When I’m spent, I pull up a stool and sit. Occasionally I get up and take a brush to his shiny white coat, but mostly I just rest my head on his warm belly. He keeps still for me, except for the occasional glance to reassure himself that I’m all right. He knows. He understands something life-altering has happened.

Eventually Dawn and Reuben Lang come down and talk me into returning to the house. ‘You should get some rest, Ebony,’ Dawn coaxes. ‘It’s almost midnight.’

I glance up at them both. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t realise it was so late.’

They walk on either side of me back up to the house, where Amber is already asleep in her bed.

‘I’ll sit with you,’ Dawn volunteers sweetly.

‘I’ll be fine, I promise. I’m really tired. Please go to bed.’

She leaves, but only when Reuben pulls her away.

It’s now well after midnight, all of the Lang family are sleeping, and I’m lying in bed with my eyes wide open.

Amber is snoring lightly across the other side of the room. Because she’s aware of my inability to sleep in deep darkness, tonight being one of those starless, moonless nights with a storm in the air, a dull floor lamp is on.

I don’t want to do anything to wake her, and yet I can’t lie here a moment longer or I’ll go crazy.

I get up and go to the window that looks east to the Mount Bungarra range.

The ridge is getting a real beating tonight, especially on the less populated, northern end where it’s mostly forest. A bolt of horizontal lightning splits into five fingers, one of which slams into the ground, probably hitting a tree and setting it alight. At least the pouring rain will douse any fires that occur up there tonight.

If Amber was watching, she wouldn’t see or hear quite so much, and I wonder if there are others with eyesight and hearing as sharp as mine. Normally I would mull over this thought for hours, but not tonight.

Unlocking the window, I slide the lower frame up halfway. The air is still, cold and moist. For some inexplicable reason I have the jitters for the people living on the mountain tonight. It’s a vicious storm. Thunder pursues lightning in a tremendous rumbling stampede across the ridge. It’s a disturbing display of nature’s awesome power. I don’t like storms. They frighten me, especially those that sweep in
under the cover of darkness as if they have something to hide. On stormy nights Mum would always bring me a cup of hot chocolate, even if it was two in the morning. She knew that the first clap of thunder would wake me.

Where are you, Mum? Where can you possibly be?

I close the window and go back to bed. I really need to switch off, give my mind a break from this mayhem. Eventually I feel myself drifting. My eyes close and I slip into a dream where I’m wearing a long strapless gown, cinched above the waist to fall in layers of ivory silk and organza. My hair tumbles down my back and I sense the flowing dress and hair pleases someone, but the identity of this person isn’t clear.

In my dream it’s a dark night, lit by the soft light of a crimson moon. The field I’m running through is bathed in warm pink light. The grass itself, high as my fingertips, glistens with amber light when my fingers part the fronds. Curious, I raise my hand in front of my face. Light emanates from my entire arm, and I gasp.

It’s the sound of my voice that brings him into the field. He stands watching me from the edge. Skin-tight black clothes cover a magnificent physique. Green eyes, full red lips, and hair the colour of brown sugar frames his head and shoulders.

The dream takes a curious turn when this man suddenly leaps into the air with the athleticism of a ballet dancer. Four black velvety wings emerge from his shoulders, shifting the air around him in pulsating waves, and in perfect sync with one another.

His movements, so graceful, mesmerise me. Knowing this, the winged man performs an eloquent airborne dance,
drawing closer each time he circles around me until he finally touches down soundlessly at my back, so close I feel the heat from his body permeate mine. So warm it almost burnt.

He leans over me and I sense his supreme intelligence. It’s a strange thought, but somehow I know it’s true. This man is smarter than anyone I know, and this frightens me.

He slides an arm around my waist and sniffs me as if I am some sort of delectable prey. I instinctively stiffen and attempt to pull away, but quickly realise that to try anything against this man’s wishes is pointless. I begin to tremble.

He spins me around to face him in a movement that feels as if I’m revolving on air, and I find myself gazing into his vivid green eyes, so intense yet fathomless and empty inside they shock me.

Repositioning his wings effortlessly at his back, he strokes my hair without quite touching it. His slender fingers, with unusually long nails, appear to tremble with his effort to be gentle. Confusion reigns inside me. Who is this man who is so strangely, perfectly beautiful? And why does he appear enamoured of me?

Ahh, but my heart tells me there is no love, only lust, in this strange creature.

He starts a conversation without speaking aloud; his voice simply appearing inside my head so that not only can I hear his words but I can see them and feel them as well. His voice resonates, low and rasping, sexy.

Child, your time of maturity nears. Soon a messenger will approach you. Do not fight him. He is my trusted lieutenant on Earth and he will keep you safe
.

Safe from what? Who are you? How will I recognise this man?

You will know him by looking in his eyes
.

I’m sorry, but that’s impossible
.

You have the gift
.

I shake my head. My hair brushes against him and he breathes in sharply.

I don’t know what you’re talking about
, I tell him, wishing only that I could wake up.

Look
, he says,
into my eyes
.

I look, and suddenly feel as if I’m standing on the edge of a precipice of unfathomable depth.

Well?
he prompts.
What do you see?

Nothing. And … everything
.

He laughs.
See?

But my confusion only grows, and I shake my head.
See what?

Who I am, who you are, and who we will be together
.

I don’t see that
.

Then you are not looking deep enough
.

If I do what you say, I’ll fall
.

I won’t let you fall
.

I think you’re evil
. I don’t know where this thought comes from; it simply appears in my head with the same unconsciousness as blinking.

But his smile only widens; and for the first time his lips part and reveal perfect white teeth to match his perfectly chiselled face. Waves of his energy, strangely both beautiful and ugly, flow into me. I shudder and he says,
I’m building you a palace. It nears completion and when ready will contain the comforts to befit a queen
.

Pardon me?

Don’t be afraid. You have nothing to fear from me, my young queen
.

The lust in his eyes says differently. If he could, I think he would devour me, piece by piece, finger by finger. And yet, there is something about him, something distracting and disturbing and strangely … fascinating.

When my lieutenant comes for you, go with him willingly, and for this you will be rewarded
.

Instinctively I answer,
No, I don’t think that’s going to happen
.

A grumbling from deep inside him sounds oddly like a beast growling. He stiffens; whether because I heard it, or at himself for not suppressing it in my presence, I don’t know.

So clever
, he murmurs as he runs his fingers along the edge of my face. I flinch at his hot touch and shudder. He fades into the night with a look of longing, his green eyes the last to disappear.

And though I feel calmer now that he’s gone, I can’t stop shaking.

To my relief it’s Amber who’s trying to wake me. When I open my eyes, her distraught face is close to mine. Seeing I’m awake, she releases my shoulders and sets me back to check me out, ensure herself I’m OK. ‘I couldn’t wake you! I didn’t know what to think. I was about to scream out for Mum and Dad!’

She reaches out and switches my bedside lamp on before sitting back on my bed with her legs crossed, frowning. ‘That must have been some nightmare. Do you want to talk about it?’

I’m not sure how to answer Amber. It was definitely a nightmare, but mixed in were intriguing portions, like the impressive-looking guy, his striking face, his wings, and the flying.

‘You’ve had the worst day imaginable. I’m not surprised you had a nightmare. Nightmares are just dreams, and dreams are
not
real,’ she says. ‘At least by morning it should be nothing but a fading memory. You wait and see.’

She sighs, leans forward and takes my hands. ‘And since we’re wide awake, let’s go raid the kitchen.’

I wake to the sound of a knock, in a room that doesn’t look one bit familiar. It’s obviously very early since the sun’s rays are only just beginning to skim the valley with light. I blink hard to shift the sleep from my eyes. I’m in my new flashy bedroom in Thane’s amazing glass house inside the grounds of a monastery.

My stomach grumbles. The mountain air makes me hungry. I could eat a horse, except it’s too early to get up yet.

Another, louder knock has me reaching for my phone at the same time as Thane pokes his head inside my room. I jump in before he says anything. ‘You gotta be joking, dude. It’s barely half past five!’

He smiles. ‘It’s going to be a big day and I thought you might like a hearty breakfast before we begin.’

I point out the window. ‘I don’t count the day as started until the big yellow ball in the sky is actually
in
the sky.’

‘The Brothers are up at four every day.’

‘Just because I live near a bunch of Brothers doesn’t mean I’ll be joining their order any time soon!’ I mean, really, who cares? ‘There had better be bacon on the menu.’

‘That I can’t promise.’

‘Argh! You disappoint me, Thane.’

‘I apologise. Now, you’ll find ample clothes for training in your wardrobe. Breakfast will be in ten minutes.’

My training clothes are a white tunic and baggy pants, while breakfast turns out to be organic fodder they probably feed their chickens! ‘I gotta go shopping and get some real food,’ I mutter while poking my fork through more seeds and grains than there is sand on a beach.

After breakfast we head downstairs to the gym. Built into the natural slope of the land at the rear of the house, the gym is part underground. Thane switches on the lights and the room suddenly has atmosphere. Machines, from treadmills to full bench presses, line up along the glass wall that runs along one side. There’s a boxing ring in the corner with gymnastic equipment set up on the right, while in the room’s centre a series of mats make a sizable training area.

‘Take a look around,’ Thane says.

I find a jukebox with five thousand song choices. I select some heavy metal and he laughs and says, ‘Sounds like you’re ready.’

We start with a forty-minute warm-up, then Thane takes me through a series of core karate lessons. I hit the machines for half an hour, then skip rope and punch the bag before we both gear up and go three rounds in the ring.

Hard to believe that only yesterday I could barely dress myself.

After a cool-down and a shower, we sit cross-legged on a mat where Thane puts me through my first set of thinking exercises. He starts with a lesson on how to clear my mind and find my inner focus, promising that as soon as I’ve
mastered this skill he’ll teach me how to block an intruder from reading my thoughts.

The day I master that lesson can’t come fast enough.

After lunch we head into the village to pick up supplies. Bungarra has a quaint charm about it all year round, but when the tree-lined streets burst into their autumn colours, there’s no questioning how beautiful it is. I shrug inside my jacket, yanking up the zip as the chill mountain air bites through every layer of clothing.

Thane glides into a vacant parking slot, reversing in perfectly in one go. As we stroll along the pavement towards the store, a cop car drives past.

Thane flicks them a brief glance, looking moderately interested. They pull up on the opposite side of the road, where two male cops get out and begin moving from person to person showing them a photograph.

‘Someone’s in trouble.’

Thane frowns. ‘It’s a photograph of Adam Skinner. They must be following a lead that he’s up here. We’d better keep moving. Your Ms Fisher will kill me if I don’t keep you safe.’

I laugh at the image that comes to mind; Lillie is a tigress when it comes to protecting her cubs. She wouldn’t be happy to hear Skinner might be up this way.

As I follow Thane through the grocery-store door, our bodies trigger a bleeping sound alerting the cashier to new customers. He recognises Thane and hails him, taking him into a storage room in the rear where Thane’s order is packed and set aside.

The bleeps also draw the attention of the only other
customer in the store, some dude who is standing in front of a rack of fresh-juice bottles. His hood is up and he looks dodgy. The guy senses me staring. We eyeball each other for a few seconds, standing frozen like statues.