PROLOGUE

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"Richard, help me!"

Warrenna Dennison lifted her head from the pillow. "Mom?"

She listened through the rain, but there was no answer, just the familiar creak of the front door swinging open and then a clang as it struck the wall.

But then she heard a voice: "Renna? Oh, no..." The words were gasped. "Where are you?"

Warrenna jumped from her bed. "I'm coming, mom!"

She darted down the stairs, into the hallway, where a stiff breeze rattled the frames of her mother's oil paintings.

Lightning flashed through the open door, illuminating Alexandria's slumped form. Her right hand gripped the doorknob above her head, but her left arm hung close to her side with the elbow turned in at an odd angle. Her rain-soaked dark hair clung to her face, and her pants were torn and spattered with mud.

Warrenna ran to her, shouting, "Mom, what's wrong?" But she stopped when she saw the blood.

It saturated her mother's white blouse, like a dozen red roses crushed into silk. Warrenna couldn't be sure where the bloodstains ended and the mud began.

"Renna," Alexandria wheezed, "get your father."

Rain tickled Warrenna's ears as she stared at her mother's dripping figure. "Oh, God, Mom, you're bleeding! You have to get to a hospital. I'll get the car."

Alexandria shook her head and grimaced. "I'll be fine. Just get your father."

Warrenna finally nodded and tore her gaze from the blood. But as she turned to find Richard, he strode past her to close the front door. He calmly helped his wife onto the carpet of the TV room.

"We have to go, Richard," Alexandria murmured. "I'm sorry. I couldn't stop it."

Richard nodded, his face pale. "Did you hurt anyone?"

"No." She looked away. "But I was seen."

He closed his eyes, but only for a moment. "It'll be okay," he whispered, and turned his attention to her injured arm. "Warrenna, go to your room and get your emergency bag."

Warrenna squinted. "My bag? But all I have in there are clothes."

"Renna!"

Richard turned around and gripped her shoulders, his sunken hazel eyes flashing. "You have one minute to pack your things, and then we leave."

"Leave?" she sputtered, fighting a sob. "Again? But why?"

"We'll explain in the car," Alexandria said. She nodded to Richard, who gave her injured arm a hard yank. Her elbow crunched into place, and she yelped from the pain. "Go, Renna." she grunted. "There isn't any time."

Bile burned Warrenna's throat as she stumbled back to her room. She yanked the drawers from her dresser, shuffling through the silly socks Melissa gave her and the shell necklace she bought at the mall with Deni. But she barely noticed any of her beloved trinkets. It was like she had never seen her room before, never seen any of her favorite things. How could she possibly choose?

She was grabbing an armful of shirts when she remembered that foggy morning three years ago, the last time her family abandoned a house on little notice.

Her mother's explanations were hardly illuminating. "It's no longer safe for us here," and "The bad people are looking for us, so we have to leave," was all Alexandria would say.

Back then, Warrenna didn't care that they were suddenly leaving town. She didn't make any friends in the year they stayed in San Francisco, and she never really liked how crowded the city felt. But this little town in Washington State was different. Melissa, Deni and Corbett accepted her as soon as she arrived in Bellingham. She felt at home somewhere for the first time. How could she leave?

She tried to tell herself this was just a bizarre hit-the-road exercise. But when she remembered the sound her mother's arm made, she knew this was no emergency drill.

One minute later, Warrenna stood in the garage with her emergency bag of clothes in one hand and her travel portfolio, crammed to bursting with sketches and paintings, under her other arm. There were a hundred other things she wanted to take, but that was all she could carry.

After another minute, Warrenna and her parents were in their Volvo, racing down Interstate 5 while the rain pounded every inch of the car's black paint. Numb with grief, anger and worry, Warrenna could only listen to her parents' rushed words.

"We'll go to the old place in Bascomville," Richard said as he maneuvered the car through traffic. "No one will look for us there."

Alexandria nodded and began unbuttoning her bloodstained blouse with her good arm. "Yes, we can't risk bringing attention to Maldecido right away. We'll be safe in Bascomville." She raised her voice. "Settle in for a long trip, hon."

Warrenna's heart lurched. She had never heard of any place called "Maldecido" or "Bascomville," but she was certain there weren't any towns in Washington with those names. They were really leaving, and they weren't coming back. Melissa and Deni would never know where she went, or even why she left. And Corbett would never know how she really felt about him.

"Could one of you please tell me why we're leaving?" she blurted. "Or even what happened back there?"

Alexandria looked to Richard, but he looked away, out of the car window.

"I was in an accident on the 202, Renna," she said. Her voice sounded tired as she peeled the blood-sticky garment off her shoulders and pulled on a dark t-shirt. "It was a bad wreck, seven or eight cars. I went to check on one of the other drivers. He had a wound in his chest. He was bleeding pretty badly."

Alexandria trailed off, closing her eyes and bowing her head. Rain rattled against the roof. The wipers swished water from the windshield. A thunderclap boomed somewhere behind them.

When Warrenna finally spoke, her voice was nearly inaudible. "That's horrible," she said, the tears starting down her cheeks. "But I don't see why we have to leave town and all the friends I'd finally found."

Richard thumped the dashboard with his fist. "Damn it, Alex, we should have told her sooner."

"No," Alexandria said, her voice firm. "The less Renna knew, the safer she was."

He sighed. "I guess it doesn't matter now."

"What doesn't matter?" Warrenna yelled. "What's going on?"

Warrenna saw her father glance at her in the rearview mirror. His face was pale and drawn, like her mother's, and Warrenna imagined that her own face looked much the same.

"Smelling all that fresh blood made your mother change," Richard said at last. "Someone saw her other form, and so we have to go."

Warrenna sniffled. "What do you mean, 'other form'?"

Richard flipped on the Volvo's overhead light, then pointed to Alexandria. "This form."

Alexandria turned around and opened her eyes. Her irises pulsed with scarlet. The pupils were thin slits of black. Her lips curled back, revealing a set of glistening two-inch fangs. Growling wheezes escaped her mouth, like an angry, panting dog.

"Listen very carefully, Renna," Richard said. "There's something you need to know about your mother and me."

Lightning arced across the chalkboard-black sky.

"And about yourself."