The pendulum will swing toward the Dark, and she will serve.

I saw the speaker in his mind. Tank. Tank had planned the kill. Had sought out Alice. The vessel. The champion.

And the prophecy.

I needed to know the prophecy. Needed to know if it had been fulfilled in me or if there was more.

And the only way to know was to go back in. I didn't want to-the pain, it exhausted as much as it hurt, draining me so much I wasn't certain I could break the connection. Wasn't certain that I wouldn't lose my mind inside the Secret Keeper's thoughts. And that wasn't the place I ever wanted to be.

But again, I had no choice. He wanted in my head, too, and his control over the visions was stronger than mine. Like a whirlpool, I was sucked back, my skin flayed from my flesh as I was pulled under and deeper, faster and faster, until my throat was raw from the screaming and my heart threatened to burst inside my chest.

Darkness.

A circle.

And Tank standing across from Egan. Friday. Sunrise. The girl. The little one. For the glory. For the cause.

And then Egan was leaving, and Tank was smiling.

For the glory. For the ruse. It goes on.

Tank.

And Egan.

Not herbs. Girls. One girl. A sacrifice. Tank and Egan working together.

And soon.

Someone was going to die so very soon.

My thoughts muddled. The pain. The darkness.

I tried to fight through it. I had to see. Had to see where they had her. The Little One. Had to get to her.

Had to save her.

And yet my brain was starting to melt. It was too much. He was fighting me. Fighting hard.

I wanted to protest. To find my blade. To stab him through the heart.

But my own heart had stopped. My lungs had quit drawing air. And the world was growing gray. So gray.

He'd slid inside. Inside my brain.

And he was shutting me down.

I was dying, and- "Lily!

"Lily! Your knife! Use your knife."

The sting of a hand hard against my cheek. I gasped, and as reality returned, I thrust hard with the knife, finding the Secret Keeper's heart. It was a kill shot, and while the demonic goo eased out of him, I sank to my knees, gasping like a fish out of water as the Secret Keeper's essence flowed through and filled me.

"I thought I'd lost you. If I hadn't been here . . ." Deacon trembled with controlled rage. "If I hadn't been here, he would have burned you up from the inside out."

"I'm okay," I said, clutching his hand. "I'm okay." I sucked in a gallon of air. "Tank came to him. Gave him his secrets. I saw it all. They did need Alice's body." I shifted as Deacon helped me to my feet. "She was the shell, and I was the soul. It was planned." I met his eyes. "Egan fucking sold her to them. And all to make this prophecy come true."

"Bastards."

"And there's someone else," I said, fear and futility clogging my veins. "Unless we get to her in time, another girl will be sacrificed. Tonight."

FORTY-ONE.

"Who?"heaskedasweraced toward the street.

"I don't know. But it doesn't matter. We have to stop it."

Deacon stopped in front of a car, a sleek black Jaguar, and ripped off the driver's-side door. I climbed in, scrambling over to the passenger side.

"Where?" he asked, pressing his hand to the ignition slot and setting the engine firing. The sun was fast sinking, casting the street in an eerie greenish gray.

I gaped, thinking that was one damn handy trick and realizing I didn't really know a thing about this man I'd aligned myself with. "The pub. It's closed today. Plumbing." I snorted. "I'm thinking the real reason's in the basement." I remembered the metal plate I'd felt in the wall across from the stockroom. The odd symbols. Demonic, I assumed. Most likely a door of some sort.

Guess we'd find out soon enough.

"Was that where you woke up? As Alice?" Deacon asked, when I told him my theory.

I shook my head. "Probably moved me. Wouldn't want me going to work at the pub and recognizing the alley. The room. That would raise questions they wouldn't want to answer."

I clung tight to the door as Deacon took curves at speeds that made NASCAR drivers look like pussies. "The whole thing makes perfect sense," I said, once I caught my breath. "Those girls that went missing over the summer. That was Egan. He supplied the demons with sacrifices to get money to cover the pub's debts." I remembered what Rachel had said, and felt slightly sick. Did she realize what he'd been trafficking, or just that he'd been doing a demon's bidding?

"And then one day they come and say they need a particular girl," Deacon said. "His niece."

"And he said yes. The bastard said yes." I drew in a breath. "It makes sense now-that look in his eye when I walked in the door. He never expected to see her alive again. He knew she didn't disappear on Saturday. He sent her to the stockroom and she was taken. And when I walked in, it was like he was looking at a ghost." I snorted. "And here I thought he was being all nice and kind when he asked if there was anything I wanted to talk about. He was fishing, wondering if I remembered. Wondering if I knew what he'd done."

"He sold her," Deacon said. "He sold his own niece as a sacrificial lamb."

"And now someone else is on the chopping block."

"Not if we can help it." I looked over and saw his hands tight on the steering wheel, his face tight as he struggled to keep the rage he kept permanently at bay under control. I wanted to reach over and touch his arm, to tell him it was okay-go ahead and release the beast. Considering what Egan had done, he deserved to be consumed in fire and fury.

Fear held me back. The fear that once released, the beast within Deacon could never be harnessed again.

Instead, I sat there, hands tight on the armrest, every fiber in me willing the car to go faster.

"What I don't get is why. Why sacrifice someone tonight?"

"A ruse," Deacon said.

"That's what I heard in the Secret Keeper's mind," I said. "But I don't get it."

"A cover-up, and it's all for Egan's benefit."

I squinted at him, still not understanding. And then, as Deacon fishtailed into a parking space near the alley entrance to the pub, it all clicked into place. Egan had sacrificed Alice, but there his niece was, walking and talking. And unless the demons wanted to bring Egan in on the secret that was me, they needed Egan to think that Alice was a bust sacrifice-wise. That she was still alive and kicking with a big hole in her memory.

But Egan already had their money, and demons aren't known for their generosity. Which meant they had to hit him up for another sacrifice so that he wouldn't get curious.

This ceremony was a do-over. A sacrifice for no reason at all.

"Bastards," I whispered, as we eased quietly down the alley. There might be guards, and I didn't want us discovered before we even had a chance of saving the girl.

"She's most likely a runaway," Deacon said. "Living on the street. Easy to grab."

"Boarhurst has a lot of them." I remembered what Gracie had said about her uncle giving her pepper spray. Lot of girls around here went missing.

And then I grabbed Deacon's hand, remembering. "The vision," I said, fumbling in my pocket for my cell phone. It was still off, and I pushed the button to power it up, frantic now. "I touched Gracie and I saw a girl in a white gown in a ceremonial chamber. I thought it was because Alice had told her something. Something important hidden in her subconscious. It was so familiar-it was almost like seeing me in that room. I discounted it, because visions aren't always clear, and she was Alice's friend."

"You think she's our girl?"

"I think Egan was irritated when she gave notice." I focused on the phone. I had five new calls, but I ignored them, dialing Gracie's number instead. She answered on the third ring, and I sagged to the ground in relief. "Where are you?" I demanded.

"Alice?" Her voice was slow, groggy. "What time is it?"

"Where are you?" I repeated.

"I'm in L.A.," she said, life coming back into her voice. "Can you believe it? For work! An emergency trip, and on my very first day!"

I hung up. I'd plead broken connection when I saw her, but right then I couldn't talk. "She's okay. It's not her. We keep going."

I started to put the phone away, but scrolled through the incoming numbers first. Clarence I recognized as three of the calls, most likely calling from in front of my apartment, waiting for his report on my massacre of Father Carlton.

The other two I recognized as well. Rose.

With a growing sense of dread, I called voice mail, heard Rose's tentative voice.

"So, um, Alice. I . . . God, this is stupid; I don't even know you. But I still feel like someone-Never mind. I dunno. Wanted to talk to you. Give me a call."

She hung up, and I frowned, scrolling through to the final message, also from Rose.

"Things really suck right now. It's just that, you said you were Lily's friend, so I hope you're not gonna be pissed. Anyway, I figure cab fare can't be too much, right? Hopefully you're working. 'Cause I really want to see you. So I guess I will. See you, I mean. And I'm gonna take my dad's cell phone with me," she said, then rattled off the familiar number before signing off again.

I looked up at Deacon, horrified. "Here. She was coming here." Frantically, I dialed Joe's cell number. And when the damn thing went straight to voice mail, I had to stifle the urge to slam it against the wall.

"You don't think he'd-a girl walks in off the street-"

"I think if he'd planned to use Gracie, then he'd be desperate. I think he's taken girls off the street before. And I think we need to hurry."

I nodded, tears clogging my throat as I struggled to get my key into the back door lock. I couldn't-I wouldn't-fail my sister again.

"I'm killing the son of a bitch," I said, my voice thick. "I swear, I'm killing him for what he did to Alice. For what he's trying to do to Rose. And I'm going to make him feel every bit of the life as it drains out of him."

Deacon looked at me, and for a moment I thought he was going to argue. I didn't want to hear it, because there was nothing-nothing-he could say that would save Egan's life.

"I'll hold him for you."

I met his eyes. Nodded. And pulled open the door.

Whatever was in there, we'd face it together.

FORTY-TWO.

We raced down the stairs toward the basement, sunrise only minutes away, and searched the wall for the metal door I'd brushed my fingers over just the other day.

Nothing.

I swallowed, panic setting in. Rose. I couldn't lose Rose.

I kicked the wall, willing the door to appear. Nothing.

"Dammit!"

"Egan," Deacon said. "Go. I'll stay here. Try to figure a way in."

I was halfway up the stairs before the suggestion was out of his mouth. I burst through the kitchen doors into the pub area, relief welling in me as I saw Egan pacing the length of the darkened pub. He turned, saw the knife in my hand, and paled.

"Alice!"

"How do I get in? How do I find the door, you lying, murdering bastard?"

His eyes widened and he dropped the saltshaker he'd been cleaning, the white bar rag still in his hand like a flag of surrender. "I-what-?"

After that, he was fresh out of witty conversation and raced for the front doors. He didn't make it, the knife lodging in his thigh effectively bringing him down.

I was at his side in an instant, my hand closing over the hilt of my blade. "Tell me," I said. "Tell me or I twist the knife until I reach an artery. Any idea how fast a thigh can bleed out?"

He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.