Unbreakable

you.”

“I don’t care.”

“I do.” I held his face in my hands, forcing him to look at me even though we could barely see each other. “I won’t be able to handle it if you get in trouble because of me.”

You’re already in trouble because of me. The whole world is.

Jared pressed his forehead against mine. The subtle shift in position sent another surge of pain shooting up my legs, and a wave of nausea rolled over me. He ran his fingers along the side of my face, and a different kind of pain consumed me.

“I shouldn’t have pushed you away,” he said.

All I could think about was protecting him. What happened between us outside Hearts of Mercy didn’t change the way I felt about him. I wasn’t sure anything could. “It doesn’t matter—”

“Let me say this,” he whispered. “I was scared. I still am. It’s like you know me. You see things in me that no one else does.” He shook his head. “I’m not saying this right.”

I touched the scar above his eye. “You’re saying it fine.”

“I’ve never really had anything that was mine, and I never cared until now.” He hesitated. “And I know you aren’t mine… but I want you to be.”

Boots splashed through the mud somewhere nearby.

I have to get him out of here.

I ran my fingers over his lips. “If Darien’s spirit was telling the truth, I released a demon tonight. Think about all the innocent people Andras will hurt. You have to find a way to stop him, or I’ll never be able to forgive myself.”

It was a lie.

I would never forgive myself no matter what he did. But if Jared believed he was helping me, and the people caught in the trap I had unknowingly set, he might be willing to leave me here.

“Do you still care about me?” he asked.

I sensed him watching me. “We don’t belong together. I’m not one of you.”

His lips grazed mine. “Answer the question.”

My breath hitched. “I care.”

“It doesn’t matter if you have a mark. You don’t have to be anything more than you are.” Jared pressed his lips against mine with a hunger that matched my own. For a moment, there was nothing but the two of us. He slid his mouth around to my ear. “You’re enough.”

“I’ll check the west side,” a voice called through the rain.

I ran my hand over his face, trying to memorize every curve and every line. “Please go.”

“I’ll find you, I swear,” he whispered. “I—”

“Go.” I shoved him away.

He hesitated, and I closed my eyes, listening as the storm swallowed the sound of his footsteps.

He’s safe.

The pain subsided and numbness wrapped itself around me. I counted silently, praying he was far enough away, until the beam of a flashlight caught my eyes.

“Over here! I found someone.” The officer bent down next to me. “You’re gonna be all right, miss.”

I didn’t respond, hoping the rain would drown me. I searched for Jared’s face in my mind.

Would I forget it? Or would my mind finally save a picture I wanted to remember?

I lay in the mud as the officers struggled to cut me free. “The ambulance is stuck in the storm, but we’re gonna take good care of you. We’ve seen this kinda thing before. Haven’t we?”

The other officer winced as the wire sliced into his hands. “We’ll have you out of here in a few minutes, and your legs will be just fine.”

What about the rest of me?

They asked my name over and over—when they bandaged my legs, when they wrapped me in a scratchy wool blanket, when I waited in the back of the police car. They would figure it out soon enough.

I was watching the rain pelt the ruined prison windows in the glare of the headlights, when something moved at the edge of the wall. Someone.

Jared.

Only a few yards away, but impossibly far in every way that mattered.

I’ll find you.

I wasn’t promising him. I was promising myself.

I had managed to lose everything all over again—the things I let myself want, and the ones I wanted so desperately to be true. But there was only one truth now.

I was never destined to save the world.

I was the one who destroyed it.

Even though I couldn’t see more than his silhouette, I watched Jared until the officer climbed into the driver’s seat and the tires spun through the mud. Until I couldn’t see the prison or the road or anything except his face in my mind. I wondered if I would see it again.

And if the black doves would ever carry me.

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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

This is my Legion—the not-so-secret society of brilliant people who supported me throughout the process of writing this book and sending it out into the world. I am more grateful to them than they will ever know.

Jodi Reamer, the rock star of agents—for being the first and only agent to read this manuscript. I paced all night as you read it, knowing that if you loved the ending, you were the right person to take Unbreakable out into the world. Thank you for loving it and for answering a thousand e-mails and even more calls. You’re in a class by yourself.

Julie Scheina, my first editor at Little, Brown—for taking this book all the way to the pass pages and pushing me to my limits in the best way. Working with you for the last six years was truly a gift.

Erin Stein, my editor at Little, Brown—for adopting me and Unbreakable as if we had been yours all along. Our shared love of Buffy and Ghost Hunters, and the fact that you knew Moundsville Prison is a real place, cannot be an accident. Your sharp eye, creativity, and belief in this book border on supernatural.

Team Unbreakable at Little, Brown—Hallie Patterson, for working publicity magic for me every day; Dave Caplan, for designing yet another cover to die (or kill) for; Pam Garfinkel, for giving me amazing editorial notes; Jill Dembowski, for helping me kill my darlings; Barbara Bakowski, for proving that copyediting is an art; Adrian Palacios, for the amazing trailer; Victoria Stapleton, for being a legend and the person who drives me to nail biting while I wait to hear if you love the book; Nellie Kurtzman, for being a marketing genius with supermodel hair; Melanie Chang, for being a PR guru; Andrew Smith, for being the smartest (and coolest) guy in publishing; and Megan Tingley, for believing in all my books from the start. I owe a debt to everyone at LBYR for your hard work. I am proud to call Little, Brown home.

Writers House, my literary agency—for inviting me to your party and representing me. Special thanks to