OK, from now on, I'm going to set regular dates for the chapters to be updated just because it'll be easier. So, Chapter 4 will be posted January 2nd. So this is the chapter where I say Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, as well. :) Guys, by the way, let me know if the rating's OK-I don't think there's anything here that's unsuitable for a T rating, but let me know if you think it might be an issue.

Thank you for the reviews, and please continue to review if you like it. Here's Chapter Three.

I stared at the paper in front of me, a few words dotted over the page. The first draft of this essay was not going well.

I pushed my hair off my face, closing my eyes for a moment, my elbows digging into the bedcovers. Morgan's face danced behind my eyelids and I shuddered, thinking of the way he'd looked at his sister that morning-that confused, scared look-almost as if he was afraid of her.

And I knew I wouldn't have blamed him.

I couldn't lie to myself-I knew something wasn't right with Bo. Graham had asked her question after question, and yielded few results. All she would say was that she hadn't liked the birds, and finally, Graham had decided to let the matter drop.

I sighed, and turned back to the essay. Graham had promised to call the second something else happened, or if there was any news of Ray Reddy, but the few notes I'd scrawled on the page still weren't holding my attention.

Merrill's lips brushed my cheek, his arms sliding round my shoulders. "How's the essay going?" His mouth moved to under my ear, and I shivered, closing my eyes.

"I've got three words down on the page." Merrill's laughter echoed in my ear as I turned to face him, my mouth brushing his. His fingers were combing through my hair, as he pulled me to him, each kiss deepening with the seconds that passed.

Merrill's mouth moved to my neck, his fingers dancing across my skin, as my hand let go of my pen, letting it drop onto my notepad. "I'm supposed to be working" I whispered.

Merrill raised his head, his eyes meeting mine. His lips flickered in a smile, his hand gently tilting my face to his. "Rest of your life to work."

I rolled my eyes but then Merrill's mouth was on mine, and my hands had slid into his hair, and any concerns were effectively silenced. Merrill's arms were either side of my head, and I pulled myself closer to him, sliding my fingers over his stomach, enjoying his gasp as his arms tightened around my shoulders.

"Merrill-" My voice was uneven and Merrill's grin widened, as he buried his face in the crook of my neck, lips whispering over my skin. Maybe it was a bad idea to study on the bed.

But it was pretty difficult to see the idea as bad right now, with Merrill's hands skating over my hips, his lips exploring my neck.

I pulled my head back to look at him. "I love you." The words came out ragged, desperate, even as he pulled me back to him for another kiss, his mouth suddenly fierce, urgent. "Love you, too."

I brushed my lips over the small scar that hovered above his lip, enjoying the low moan that rose from his throat, as I moved against him, the notepad sliding to the floor, long-forgotten. Merrill's arms were around me, holding me to him, electricity seeming to flow from wherever his skin touched mine, his eyes an inch from mine. Another kiss that made me feel as though I was melting, and my hands slid over his neck, prompting a wild sound from his throat.

And then the phone rang.

I flopped back on the bed, letting my eyes close, as Merrill pushed his hand through his hair, letting out a groan of frustration. "You've got to be kidding."

I sighed. "Can't ignore it."

Merrill raised an eyebrow. "I could."

I rolled my eyes, as I reached out for the phone. "Hello?"

"Isabelle?" Graham, I mouthed to Merrill, whose mouth was moving gently along my neck, lingering under my ear. I tried to keep my mind on Graham's voice rather than the sensation of Merrill's arms sliding around my shoulders, his hands tracing my skin.

"Hey, Isabelle." Graham's voice sounded drained, tired, and I didn't blame him. I guessed worrying that your daughter might be going insane while trying to deal with your son retreating into teenagehood might take it out of you.

"Hey." I tried batting away Merrill, who was working his way down my neck, occasionally whispering into my ear. I tried glaring at him but I couldn't summon any anger, as his hands stroked my hips, his mouth caressing my collar bone.

"How's-Morgan and Bo?" My voice was uneven, and I shook my head at Merrill, whose smirk seemed to burn beneath my skin.

"They're OK." Graham's tone was wary, guarded, and I could hear the underlying message as clearly as if he'd shouted it. Nothing else weird has happened; not yet.

I swallowed. "Nothing else happened, then?"

A pause, then "No."

"Good." Merrill's arms were still around me, and his chin was nestling in my shoulder. I rolled my eyes but moved back against him, letting my head rest against his.

"We were just thinking, it might be an idea to take them out tonight." Graham swallowed and I shifted the phone against my ear. "To take their minds off all the weird stuff that's happened. You know the carnival?"

"Down on Wright's field? You and Colleen used to take me."

"Yeah, the fall carnival." Graham sounded a little brighter now, as though my remembrance of the place had somehow inflated the mood. "I was thinking of taking them. You and Merrill want to come along?"

I glanced at Merrill, knowing he could hear every word. He nodded quickly, his eyebrows arching. I raised the phone back to my ear. "Yeah, we'll come."

"They'll be glad." Graham's laughter echoed in my ears and I strained to hear any sound of Morgan or Bo beyond the phone-any hint of laughter, of playtime. But there was just silence, and I swallowed. Maybe they were simply out of hearing range of the phone. But I couldn't shake the feeling that the incident earlier today had unsettled them even more than we'd realised.

"See you tonight then?"

"If you and Merrill could get here for seven, it would be easier to get them a go on the rides."

"'K. And Graham?"

"Yeah?"

"Have you-" I swallowed. "Are you going to tell Caroline? About the birds?"

Beside me, Merrill stilled, his fingers still combing through my hair. There was a long silence.

"Not-" Graham said eventually, his voice lower now. "Not unless something else happens."

I bit my lip. That made sense, I supposed. Why make them freak out if there was nothing to freak out about?

Though, then again, two decapitated birds and a man lying in intensive care didn't exactly constitute nothing, or not in any dictionary I'd read.

"OK. Take it we shouldn't bring it up tonight?"

"That would be an idea."

"OK. See you, then." I shifted the phone nervously, wondering how tonight was going to go, whether Morgan and Bo would feel inclined towards going out. Maybe Morgan would insist on spending the entire night scouring the field for mysterious doppelgangers of his sister.

"See you." I hung up the phone, feeling the sense of unease I'd been carrying with me ever since Bo first discovered the birds, increase.

Merrill tilted my chin and his lips brushed across mine. Any of the unease I'd been feeling retreated to the back of my mind as I swatted him on the shoulder. "That's for distracting me on the phone!"

I couldn't keep up the charade, my words dissolving into laughter as Merrill's smirk grew more pronounced, as each kiss grew softer, as he gently lay me down against the bedcovers, his mouth nestling against my neck. I glared at him. "If I was really cruel, I'd get back to my essay right now."

Merrill closed his eyes. "But then if you did that, I'd probably die or something. So you'd have that on your conscience forever." He flicked my nose gently before lowering his mouth to mine.

"Hmmm." I closed my eyes, struggling not to squirm with the way his lips were nibbling across my neck. "Could I live with that?"

Merrill smiled, his eyes locking with mine. It was times like this that I forgot everything else in the world; times like this that made me think of everything I loved about Merrill, of just how much I loved him. His hands were on either side of my face, gently holding me to him, his lips an inch from mine.

"Could you?" he whispered, before his hand gently slid over my skin, his fingers tracing back and forth until I pulled his mouth back to mine, my words dissolving into frantic whispers, as the world seemed to fade away.

"We need to go" I whispered to Merrill, my head nestled into his shoulder. His arms were wrapped around me, and I had to struggle not to close my eyes and drift, my fingers trailing over his skin.

But, glancing at the clock, I could see that if we didn't get up in the next half-hour, we were going to be late. And I didn't fancy sending an already jittery Bo into nuclear meltdown because we made her miss the carnival.

Merrill's lips brushed my shoulders, as he rolled over, pulling me closer to him. "Five more minutes."

My head nestled against his chest. "I've got nothing done today" I whispered, running my finger down over his heart, tracing his stomach. "Your fault." I pressed a quick kiss to his shoulder, feeling his arm settle around me, his mouth skating across my neck. From my position against him, I could feel both of our heartbeats, sounding more rapidly.

Merrill's lips curved in a slow smirk. "You didn't get nothing done today..."

I raised an eyebrow. "One more word, Merrill-"

He laughed, brushing another kiss to my hair. I closed my eyes, wondering if my notebooks had been ruined when they dropped to the floor several hours earlier. I sighed, brushing Merrill's mouth with my own. "We've got to get up" I whispered. "Come on."

Merrill sighed and rolled over to face me. I grinned, shifting closer to him. "Carnivals" I whispered, stroking his cheek with one finger. "Rides." My fingertip danced across his lip. "Come on."

Merrill sighed, pulling me closer. "Rather stay here."

"We told them we'd go."

Merrill groaned and rolled over. "Night spent at cheap carnival in Wright's Field with worried child and almost-silent preteen. Perfect."

I planted a quick kiss on his mouth. "That's why I love you. Now, let me get dressed."

Merrill sighed, sitting upright, as I yanked the sheets further up. His eyes met mine and his lips flickered in a grin. He was looking at me quietly, the way I sometimes caught him watching me-as if he couldn't see anything but me.

"Love you." The words were so soft, they were almost inaudible, but I knew he heard. He pressed his lips to my cheek, before whispering the same words in my ear.

I grinned, pulling at my shirt from a nearby chair, trying to ignore the fact that across my lower arm, the scars were suddenly searing again.

The carnival lights were bright through the windows of Graham's station wagon as we pulled up to Wright's Field. Bo was strapped in next to me, with Morgan having already called shotgun, meaning Merrill was relegated to sitting in the back with Bo and I.

"You sure you don't want the booster seat?"

Merrill glared at the back of Morgan's head. "It should be you getting this."

I sniggered and Bo's lips curved into a grin. I watched her quietly-she seemed to be a little calmer now, and at any rate, didn't appear to be dwelling on the horrors of decapitated birds.

Graham turned round, pulling the station wagon into a parking space, while simultaneously eyeballing his children. "Now, listen. When we're in here, don't go running off. You need to stick together-it's easy to get lost. Everyone just stay near each other."

"What, us as well?" Merrill stared at his brother as if he'd lost his mind.

Graham shot us both a warning look. I took it that he hadn't quite forgotten the events earlier in the day.

Merrill rolled his eyes, but to me, he whispered "He'll have us all holding hands next."

I sniggered. In the front seat, Morgan appeared to be thinking along similar lines. "Dad, we're not going to run off. For God's sake, I'm nearly thirteen."

Graham raised an eyebrow but with a sigh, unlocked the doors.

Bo scrambled out, forgetting in her hurry to unfasten her seatbelt, proving her father right instantly.

Merrill sighed, as we both followed the children out of the car. "Graham's not going to let her out of his sight all night."

"Can you blame him?" I muttered. "I mean, she did come across two dead birds and go on a sleepwalking expedition last night." Though Bo seemed less than troubled now, skipping towards the carnival entrance, as though she hadn't a care in the world. I frowned, keeping my eyes firmly on her bobbing head, before following the kids into the field.

After fifteen minutes in the carnival, it was impossible to identify the hysterically-laughing Bo with the silent, stone-faced little girl she had been several hours earlier. She was now giggling with Morgan, who had actually cracked a couple of smiles since entering the field, and who was now yanking us eagerly toward the rollercoaster.

Merrill's hand slid into mine. "You'll scream your head off on this."

I shook my head, feeling my own smile wreathe my face. It was difficult to remember any reason to be concerned, with the laughter of children all around us, and Graham lifting Bo into his arms to tickle her.

"You'll be the one screaming."

Merrill raised an eyebrow, his arm falling around my shoulders. "Are you sure you're OK with this?" he asked Morgan, for the fourth time in the last ten minutes. "We don't have to, if you don't want to-"

Morgan shook his head. "I'm fine. I want to. I-" His voice broke off suddenly.

Merrill's mouth was by my ear. "You're sitting by him."

I elbowed him. "You're evil." My eyes narrowed as I stared past his shoulder. "Morgan-what are you doing?"

Morgan was ducking towards us, his shoulders angled oddly forwards, his eyes darting back and forth frantically. It was bizarre-his gaze was fixed, his lip caught between his teeth.

"Morgan?" My own voice rose questioningly, as my nephew turned a wide-eyed stare on me. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" His response was much too quick and I raised my eyebrows. His cheeks flushed, the blood rising rapidly. "I'm fine."

Merrill's eyes met mine and I could see that Morgan's protests of "being fine" weren't fooling him, either. But I couldn't see that we were going to get any more out of him, and Bo was tugging at my wrist, enquiring nervously about "how big the rollercoaster was", and Morgan's ducking and dodging was all too easily forgotten.

"OK, you didn't scream." Merrill held his hands up, conceding, as we made our way through the crowds, a triumphant Bo running ahead with her father. "But you were still scared..."

"Says the guy who held onto my arm so hard, he nearly cut off the circulation."

Merrill glared at me, but given that I'd already slung my arms around his neck and was pressed against him, my lips tugging at his earlobe, any annoyance didn't last long.

His voice whispered in my ear. "You're evil."

I brushed my lips across his cheek. "I have my moments."

Merrill's laughter was low in his throat as he kissed me again, and I remembered the last time we'd had this exchange-alone in a basement, wondering if either of us would survive the night. His arm was flung around my shoulders as Morgan darted in front of us, his head ducked once again.

"Morgan-" My voice trailed off. "What are you doing?"

Morgan turned to stare at me. "Nothing."

Merrill raised an eyebrow. "How is that "nothing?""

Morgan shrugged. "I'm fine, OK?" His gaze darted through the crowd once more, and I rolled my eyes.

Morgan quickly moved to Merrill's other side, and I stared at him. "Morgan."

He kept his head angled downwards. "Look, just leave it, OK?"

I turned to Merrill. "Would you tell him-"

My voice trailed off, as I saw Merrill doing exactly the same thing as Morgan. "Oh, for Christ's sake."

Merrill shushed me frantically, despite the fact that the noise of about a hundred others pretty much covered my voice. "Don't look over-"

"What?" I was already peering through the crowd, despite Merrill's frantic attempts to tug at my arm.

Merrill kept his eyes trained on the ground, as though his feet had suddenly become fascinating, but one word slipped out through his lips. "Pritchard."

Oh.

"So that explains why smoke appears to be pouring from your ears." Merrill glared at me and I held my hands up. "OK, wrong time."

I stepped forward, keeping my head lowered. As much as I might laugh at Merrill's attempt at avoiding him, I didn't need any further reason to dislike Lionel Pritchard.

"Don't come over...don't come over...don't come over..." Merrill's running commentary echoed in my ears as we kept our eyes on the ground.

"Merrill?" Graham was standing in front of us, Bo's arms slung around his neck, a stick of candyfloss clutched firmly in her fist. She grinned at us, her lips stained pink. "What are you doing?"

Merrill jerked his head at Lionel Pritchard in answer. Graham glanced over and rolled his eyes. "For heaven's sake-"

"He's looking over-" Morgan glanced at me, and I winced, avoiding Lionel Pritchard's gaze.

"Everyone just look at your shoes." Graham rolled his eyes once again at his younger brother's suggestion, but complied, turning away from Lionel Pritchard to stare at an arcade game, as if suddenly fascinated. Morgan and I followed suit, while I wondered quite what everyone watching us would think.

"Merrill-" Graham was talking out of the corner of his mouth, while facing the arcade game. "Don't you think it's about time that you got over this, and just began treating them like actual human beings?"

"As opposed to what?" Morgan stared at his father.

Graham struggled for a moment. "As opposed to treating them like Satan?"

"Satan would be more interesting. At least, he'd have more than one functioning brain cell."

Merrill snorted with laughter, as Graham rolled his eyes. "Thanks, Isabelle."

"OK, they're gone." Merrill glanced over his shoulder, as Morgan sighed with relief.

"Does Satan even have a brain?"

I shrugged. "Interesting question."

"I don't think he does." We all turned to look up at Bo, whose cheeks were now sporting an interesting pink pattern. She widened her eyes.

"I mean, he wouldn't have room in his head, because of those horn things. They must drill right down into his skull."

Merrill was biting his lip and I slid my hand into his as I ducked my head forward. "That's an interesting theory, Bo." Merrill and I exchanged glances. "I'll be sure to mention that in my next philosophy class."

Morgan was less adept at hiding his laughter, and Bo glared at him. "Stop laughing!"

Morgan held up his hand, still choking back mirth, and his sleeve slid down slightly. I frowned at a shadow on his skin. "Morgan, what's that on your wrist?"

Morgan jerked back, his smile vanishing as suddenly as it had appeared. "Nothing."

I frowned, but he was already quickening his pace, ducking ahead slightly. I stared at Merrill, who did not appear to have noticed the exchange.

"Do you think that's weird?" I asked him, my voice lowered.

He frowned. "What's weird?"

"That." I indicated Morgan with my head. "Didn't you hear?" Graham lifted Bo onto his shoulders as she chattered to him, now earnestly absorbed in the important discussion of whether or not the devil had a tail.

Merrill shook his head, but I was staring at Morgan, who was walking with his head ducked, occasionally casting anxious glances in the Pritchards' direction. Looking over surreptitiously, I got a glimpse of a boy about Morgan's age. He had jaw-length black hair, and had a cigarette jammed between his lips. Lionel Pritchard clapped him on the shoulder.

"Who's that?"

Morgan seemed to be doing his utmost to avoid looking at the boy. "Erm-Devon Pritchard."

"Devon." Merrill snorted. I gave him a quick glance. "I don't think anyone called Merrill should be pointing any fingers."

"He his cousin or something?" I asked Morgan, who shrugged.

"Brother, I think."

I raised an eyebrow, my gaze flickering between Morgan and Devon. "He hasn't done anything to you, has he?"

"No." Morgan shoved his hands into his pockets. I frowned, but he was already hurrying ahead, his face ducked down.

I stared at Merrill. "You think he's telling the truth?"

"No" Merrill replied, his tone as airy as if he were commenting on the weather. "I don't think he is. But I think he'll end up storming off if you say anything else."

"Why?"

Merrill gave me the look of one attempting to reason with a toddler. "Isabelle, which of us has actually been a teenage boy?"

I sighed. "I'm not answering that."

Merrill's grin widened. "Why? Is there something you're not telling me?"

"I'm so glad to see you can find this amusing."

"I'm glad, too."

I rolled my eyes, as Merrill pulled me closer to him, his arm draped around my shoulders. "Leave it. They'll work it out themselves. They'll probably end up best friends or something."

"Yeah." I leaned closer to him. "But if they don't, can we have it on record now that Graham will bill you personally for his son's therapy?"

Merrill shrugged. "Maybe Morgan will win." There was a slightly dreamy look in his eyes.

I stared at him. "Are you actually hoping they'll get into a fight and Morgan will win?"

"No!" Merrill's denial was a little too rapid to be entirely believable and I glared at him. "Merrill-"

Merrill shook his head, his eyes wide.

"God, Merrill, that's like telling him to get a gang of his own friends together to beat up the big kid-"

Merrill's smirk wasn't suppressed in time. I stared at him. "You didn't."

"I didn't tell him!"

"Good." I shot him another look. "Why are you smirking?"

"I was just thinking-" He stared at me. "Didn't you once say you did the big kid's homework for them so they'd beat Lionel Pritchard up behind the changing rooms?"

My mouth opened and closed like a goldfish. "I-these situations have no similarity whatsoever."

Merrill nodded. "Of course they don't."

I glared at him.

"Well, that went well." Several hours after our arrival, we were heading back to the station wagon. Bo was still hanging on to her father's shoulders, chewing the remainder of her candyfloss. Apparently, the strange events of the night before had been pretty much forgotten.

Morgan shrugged. "Uncle Merrill thought Isabelle would scream on the rollercoaster."

"I didn't" I pointed out, kissing Merrill's cheek before turning to glance at Morgan. "He did, though."

Merrill rolled his eyes, as Morgan sniggered, walking ahead of us, before stopping dead.

"What's wrong?" I stared at him as Morgan froze still, his fists clenched at his sides.

"Don't let Bo see this." He turned to his father.

"What's wrong, Morgan?" Graham was already sliding Bo off his shoulders, handing her to Merrill. Her arms looped straight around Merrill's neck, her eyes finding his for a moment, before she turned to stare at me, over his head.

Graham's voice was determinedly calm, but his eyes were wide. "Morgan, tell me what's wrong."

In answer, Morgan pointed at the foot of the station wagon.

I squinted past Bo's head and managed to drop my hand over her eyes before she could get a look.

Three dead birds were lying at the foot of the station wagon. All of them had their heads removed, placed neatly on top of the bodies. Their legs were bent and severed. Some of their feathers looked as if they'd been torn out.

Merrill's eyes widened. "Holy shit."

I elbowed him and he blinked as his eyes focused on Bo's. "Oh-"

"You're not supposed to say that word" Bo reminded him quietly. She shook her finger solemnly, her eyes huge.

Merrill stared at his niece, apparently still adjusting to the idea of being reprimanded by a first-grader. "Sorry-"

Graham was kicking the birds aside as rapidly as possible, his hand on his son's shoulder. Morgan had his inhaler raised to his lips, his cheeks pale.

Merrill's teeth were gritted but I could tell he was trying to rearrange his face into a smile as he looked at Bo. "Sorry, Bo-"

"There's birds again, aren't there?" she said simply, looking at me this time.

"Bo-"

"Aren't there?" She stared at me now, her face perfectly calm apart from the tiny tremble of her lips.

I sighed and nodded quickly. It wasn't as though she wouldn't find out eventually.

Graham stepped towards us, holding his arms out for his daughter, having kicked the bodies out of the way. One small decapitated head was lying in front of the tyre and I avoided looking at it. I wasn't usually squeamish but something about the sharpness of the beak, the eye that stared without seeing, made me step closer to Merrill, my hand searching for his.

His fingers were warm around mine and he lifted his eyes to his brother's. Graham didn't look away as he spoke, his voice low. "First thing tomorrow morning, I'm calling Caroline."

The words sent chills down my spine. All I could remember was another night, more than a year ago now...a shadow at the window...a figure on the roof...a swing, moving back and forth...

Last time we had called Caroline, it had turned out to be more than any of us could handle. And I wasn't keen for a repeat performance. I always did hate reruns.

Merrill didn't speak, but he nodded. We both followed Graham towards the car. I winced as I glanced at the decapitated bird head, knowing that I'd jump at every bump on the ride home, convinced it was the skull being crushed beneath the wheels of the car.

The bird's eye held mine, and I couldn't look away. Even as I got into the station wagon, slamming the door behind me, I couldn't get rid of the bizarre idea that the bird was pleading with me.

Or with whatever had killed it.

"I bet it was Lionel Pritchard." Merrill barely waited until Morgan and Bo were inside the house before turning to Graham. I sighed, burying my head in his shoulder.

"No offence, Merrill, but I think it might be kind of difficult for Lionel Pritchard to make Bo climb out of her bedroom window."

Merrill rolled his eyes. "He could have been the one who put the-"

Graham held up his hands. "Merrill, look. Someone was responsible. And we'll find out who it was. I just-" He sighed. "Look, you remember what happened the last time we just assumed something was Lionel Pritchard."

I shivered. Merrill had already had his mouth open to reply but he glanced at me. I stared back at him, my hand dancing over his.

He sighed and Graham's hand slid onto his younger brother's shoulder. "Look. Let's wait until Caroline comes out to speak to us tomorrow. Then, we'll have a better idea."

Merrill refused to meet his brother's gaze.

"Merrill-" Graham's voice trailed off, but there was no denying the tone.

Merrill sighed. "Fine."

I stared at the house. I'd already whispered a goodnight to Morgan and Bo, but somehow, I didn't think they'd be getting much sleep tonight.

The drive back home was silent, Merrill's eyes distant as he focused on the road. I watched him, taking in the tension in his shoulders, the tightness of his jaw. I knew he hadn't been convinced by his brother's explanation and I knew he wanted to entertain the possibility of the events having any paranormal cause even less than I did.

I guessed now would be a bad time to tell him about the scars on my wrist burning, as though something had raked them open again.

We pulled into the driveway, and the headlights flickered once before dying as Merrill twisted the keys in the ignition. He slumped back in the seat, pushing his hands over his eyes. I stared at him, taking in the shadows at the top of his cheekbones, the way his head slipped forward into his hands.

"Hey." I reached out, touching his hand tentatively. He didn't pull away, which I took as a good sign. He tilted his head to look at me, his eyes bright in the darkness.

I opened my mouth but any words were cut off by a faint howl in the distance. I froze, my eyes on Merrill's, his hand suddenly gripping mine.

A short silence and it was a few moments before I dared to take another breath.

"Just a coyote" I whispered, my eyes on his. "It was just a coyote."

Merrill didn't blink but nodded slowly. He was biting his lip and I knew the signs-he was concealing something, something he didn't want me to know.

I shifted closer to him, my hand stroking his cheek. "Tell me" I whispered, my voice soft. My other arm slipped around his shoulders, holding him closer to me, fingertips dancing over his skin.

Merrill turned to stare at me, and I watched him, my chin nestled into his shoulder. He blinked, chewing at his lip and I nodded, encouraging him to speak.

"It's just-" He blinked, turning away from me for a moment, before his eyes found mine again. "I didn't think-"

"What?" I moved closer, my cheek brushing his. "What is it, Merrill?"

Merrill tugged at his sleeve, my fingers closing over his. "It's just-" He shifted closer to me, his head falling onto my shoulder.

My lips nudged at his cheek, my mouth against his ear. "Tell me."

Merrill's eyes were burning into mine. "I'm scared, Izzy." The words slipped from his lips, like a secret. Which, I supposed, they were. He bit his lip. "I don't know what's going on, I-"

"Hey-" My arms slid around his shoulders, my face buried in his neck. "Come here, hey-" I traced my lips under his eyes, over the scar above his lip, along his neck, waiting until he relaxed, moving into me, shivering slightly as my hands raised goosebumps on his skin.

"Listen-" My voice was a whisper. "Don't worry. We'll sort it out, whatever it is. We'll get it better. I'll be here." There was a short pause and then, "You're not letting anyone down, Merrill. That's not what you're doing."

He exhaled shakily and then pulled me closer. "I yelled at you this morning."

I laughed. "Merrill, that was hours ago."

"But-" Merrill stared at me, his eyes caught, conflict raging. "What if-what if there's something-"

I moved closer to him, my hands gripping his shirt. "Listen. Stop worrying." I could feel a smile playing at my own lips. "Isn't that what you always tell me?"

Merrill bit his lip. "What if there's something wrong with-"

"There's nothing wrong with you." I had my hands on his shoulders now. I could feel the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. "Trust me. There's nothing wrong with you."

Merrill stared at me. "But I've never yelled at you like that before-"

I lifted my mouth to his, my hand sliding into his hair. "Merrill." I pulled away. "I know you. I love you. I know there's nothing wrong with you. I promise."

Merrill's eyes dropped, his gaze unconvinced. "I don't know, Izzy-"

"I know." I brushed my lips across his. "Merrill, listen to me. It's been a weird few days. We've all been freaked out. It's understandable you lost it for a minute."

"But what if-"

I placed my finger over his lips. "Merrill, stop worrying."

Merrill bit his lip and he tugged at his thumbnail anxiously. I gently tapped his hand. "Don't do that." My eyes met his. "I trust you" I said quietly. "I know you'd never do anything to hurt me. It's just a weird time."

Merrill was still chewing his lip but he nodded.

I tilted my mouth to his and after a moment, in which he stayed still, his hands splayed on my back, his mouth moved, kissing me back. I closed my eyes, listening to his breathing and the sound of the night around me. I listened for another howl from the coyote, but there was nothing.

When we broke apart, I stared at him, taking in his flushed cheeks, his pursed lips. "I love you." The words were quiet, but he repeated them back to me immediately. "Love you too."

I moved into his arms, draping myself across his chest. He whispered something into my hair, before kissing my neck. I closed my eyes.

"We'll be OK." My voice was a whisper. "We'll be fine."

Merrill nodded, his hands playing with my hair. My hand slid into his, my fingers skating across his skin.

Walking into the building a few minutes later, I couldn't help but notice that Merrill angled his body in front of mine the entire way, keeping his arm around my shoulders. I expected him to ask me to run in a zigzag pattern.

"Merrill, it's OK. I'm not about to be shot."

Our landlady, standing on the stairs, clapped her hands to her mouth. "Who's been shot?"

Merrill rolled his eyes. "No-one, Mrs. Longdon."

She shot me a look. I sighed. I'd never known as big a worrier. She spent as much time worrying as Carl in the bookstore did on conspiracy theories. I sometimes wondered if anyone in Bucks County, Pennsylvania, didn't have a dark, tortured secret.

She stared at me. "How's Ray Reddy?"

Another thing about Bucks County-everyone knew everyone else's business.

I shrugged. "Graham said he wasn't allowed in to visit" I said, after exchanging a glance with Merrill. "So, we just have to wait."

"He's in intensive care, though." This, from Merrill, just served to make Mrs. Longdon clap her hand to her mouth. Nice going.

After bidding her goodnight, we headed up the stairs.

"Great" Merrill muttered, as he fidgeted with the key. "She'll be ducking every time she goes outside for days now."

I rolled my eyes. The door swung inwards, but Merrill stood still, leaning against the frame, his arm against the wood.

"Izzy-" His voice trailed off, as his finger nudged under my chin. "I-" He swallowed, his teeth digging into his lip. "I just can't stand the thought of someone hurting you."

The whisper was quick, rushed, and my hand covered his. "It's OK." My voice was a whisper. "No-one's going to. It's OK."

Merrill bit his lip. "I just-" He sighed, his head dropping forward for a moment, before his eyes met mine again. "I wouldn't let anyone hurt you, OK? I swear, I-"

"It's OK." My hands stroked his arms. "Merrill, come here." I waited until he moved forward, letting me lean against him, before I whispered to him. "Merrill, no-one's going to hurt me."

Merrill bit his lip. "I know, I just-" He pulled me closer, my head nestling over his heart. "I'd kill anyone who hurt you, Izzy."

My eyes opened wide against his chest. "Well, hopefully, that won't be necessary."

Merrill nodded, his lips against my forehead. "I know. I just-" His eyes met mine, and I stared back at him. "I will never let anyone hurt you. I promise."

"I trust you." I ran my finger over his lips, before reaching out, clicking the door shut behind us. I turned the key in the lock, shutting the rest of the world out for a while.

Merrill was watching me. "I mean it" he whispered, pulling me towards him again. "I really would kill anyone who hurt you, Izzy."

My eyes met his. "Well, hopefully, you won't have to. It would be really difficult having a boyfriend up on a murder charge."

Merrill stared at me for a second, before he laughed, his voice slightly lighter now. I tilted my head, letting my lips touch his for a moment. It was him who clung on, kissing me harder, his hands in my hair.

I laughed, breaking away from him. "Feeling better?"

Merrill pulled me against his chest, my hands dancing under his shirt. "It depends-" His voice was low in my ear as his mouth moved along my neck. "Maybe we'll have to do that again."

I raised an eyebrow. "Maybe we will." I pulled him closer, sliding his shirt higher, shivers of pleasure breaking over my skin.

It's dark and for a moment, the light is blinding, but I still see him, as he sprints ahead of me.

"Morgan!"

My voice is a shout but he's already round the corner. I see a dark figure step into the corridor and I move towards it, even though my whole body's telling me to stay back, stay away, that it means danger...

There's a crashing sound and my mouth moves. "Morgan!"

The air is ripped apart by a long, high-pitched scream.

My eyes flew open. My cheek was pressed into the pillow, and the sheets were twisted around me. They were damp with sweat, and felt ice-cold against my body.

Merrill's arms were already around my shoulders. "What was it?" His eyes were frantic, his hands sliding against my skin.

I shook my head. "Same as always" I whispered. "But this time, it was Morgan. He was running. There was a-" I trailed off.

Merrill shook his head. "What?"

I bit my lip. "I don't know. I couldn't see it properly. I just know it was-" I shook my head again. "Tall. Dark."

Merrill was staring at me. "Are you OK?"

I nodded.

"You were screaming and thrashing about." Merrill's arms were still warm around me as he pressed his lips to my cheek. "I had to keep hugging you just to wake you up."

I stared at him. "Sorry-"

Merrill shook his head. "Don't be sorry." He pulled me closer, letting my head rest on his shoulder.

I closed my eyes, my heartbeat slowing. "It was just-scary." Abruptly, I slid out of bed, heading for the bathroom that adjoined our bedroom.

Once the door was closed, I stared into the mirror. I looked the same as I always did. Long hair falling about my face, eyes that stared into the distance. So, why was this happening? What was going on?

I shivered and turned away. Whatever it was, I couldn't keep ignoring it by staring into a bathroom mirror. I had to find out what it was. But I couldn't get rid of the feeling that there was a reason for it, the same reason there was for Ray Reddy's coma, for Bo's night-time expeditions and the headless birds. There was something strange going on.

Well done, Captain Obvious.

I closed my eyes for a moment, pushing my hair back off my face. I wondered if there was going to be any end to this, at all.

Several minutes later, I switched out the bathroom light, the towel I'd just used to dry my hands falling to the floor behind me. I couldn't be bothered to pick it up-I suddenly felt heavy all over, as if the nightmare had drained something out of me.

I crawled into bed beside Merrill, and felt his arms wrap around my shoulders. "Try to get some sleep" he whispered, and I felt my eyes close, as I huddled into him, relaxing at the sensation of him so close.

The last thing I felt before I drifted into sleep was Merrill's arms around me. But my brain prickled with a vague picture of something-some figure, some figure, tall and watching-before I sank into unconsciousness.

"And you're sure there's nothing you can think of that might have precipitated this?" Caroline stared at us over her notepad, with an expression of mixed concern and exasperation.

It was an eerie case of deja-vu -we were sitting around Graham's kitchen table again, exactly as we had been over a year earlier. Morgan was sitting still, with Bo's legs dangling to the right of him. I was leaning against Merrill, with Graham sitting in the centre of it all, like a king of a lot of dysfunction.

Graham shook his head, with a quick glance at the rest of us. Everyone followed suit, exchanging confused looks. We'd been at church that morning, and I hadn't seen any significant stares or looks or anything to indicate that someone had a bone to pick with us. Or a bird's head to decapitate.

Caroline sighed, staring at Bo. "And you're sure you can't remember being outside, sweetie?"

Bo nodded slowly, her eyes fixed on the police woman. Slowly, she reached out, picking her glass up slowly, deliberately, before taking a sip.

Her face creased, as if someone had just poured acid down her throat. "It tastes old."

Graham stared at her. "Come on, Bo. You haven't done that in months."

But Bo shook her head, and pushed the glass away. Morgan rolled his eyes, getting up to pour her another one. As he did so, I noticed that his sleeves were yanked down to his wrists, completely covering his skin. I frowned.

Merrill and I exchanged glances. "Can't think of anything." I watched him, trailing my hand over his arm. He pressed a quick kiss to the top of my head.

Caroline sighed. "Well, we've had a few reports of stuff like this in the last few weeks."

"All birds?" Graham asked, his forehead creasing momentarily. "With their heads off?"

Caroline hesitated, then nodded. "And only in the last couple of weeks." She sighed, gathering up her walkie-talkie. "But we'll be keeping an eye on things. We have to, especially after last year-"

The sentence hung in the air. Everyone avoided one another's eyes. For a moment, it looked like a game of Statues, as everybody seemed to freeze where they sat.

Caroline straightened up. "Well, if anything else happens, give me a call. And rest assured, we are dealing with this." She sighed. "We'll be looking around, figuring out who could be responsible."

Merrill stiffened next to me and I knew who he had in mind. I glanced up at Caroline.

Caroline met my gaze and sighed. "I know what you guys are thinking" she said quietly. "But I don't know if I'd go by the thought that it was Lionel Pritchard. This-" She shook her head. "This doesn't seem his style. Not at all."

I raised an eyebrow and she shook her head again. "You know what I mean. This-decapitating animals-it seems-cruel. More than cruel."

"Maybe that is his style." The words slipped out without thought and I winced as I thought back to the days of school. Hey, Chipmunk. A bruise on my arm, from being shoved into a locker. Yes, I knew firsthand that, when it suited him, cruelty could very well be Lionel Pritchard's style.

Though, I guessed that having a name yelled at you in school and being shoved into a locker once or twice, could hardly compare to having your neck broken and your head torn off. I was pretty sure the birds were suffering more than I ever had.

Caroline sighed. "Well, we'll check him out, but I don't think so. It doesn't sound like him, anyway."

"What about the Wolfington-"

"They've been out of town for the past two weeks." Caroline's words threw cold water over any further suspicions. I hadn't really gotten my hopes up anyway. How could these pranks have been responsible for my nightmares or Bo standing outside in the garden? How could they be responsible for Ray Reddy's coma or the strange tension that seemed to have lingered in the air for the last few weeks-even before the birds had started popping up?

Merrill sighed. "Dead end" he said, so quietly that I wondered if he'd really said it.

Caroline, however, nodded. "Yes" she said quietly. "It would seem so."

"We'll be starting regular patrols if this goes on" Caroline assured us, as she walked to the door. "And we'll be making sure that whoever's behind this is caught."

"If it's a person behind this..."I muttered.

Merrill's arm slid around me and Caroline avoided everybody's eyes. I couldn't blame her. What did I expect her to say? "Oh, yeah, I'll issue an arrest warrant for extraterrestrials, too?"

Caroline sighed. "I heard about Ray Reddy" she said quietly, and I swallowed. "You going to see him?" she asked Graham, her voice lower now.

Graham shrugged. "If they let me."

I wondered how a man lying in a coma could suffer from someone being brought in to talk to him. It wasn't exactly as though Ray could get any more rest than he was already getting.

I winced. Maybe it was too soon to think that.

Caroline pulled at her ponytail-an uncharacteristic gesture of nervousness for her. "Well, I guess people will be praying for him" she said, shooting an uncertain look at Graham.

I shrugged. My eyes drifted to Morgan, who was holding his inhaler as if it might be taken away from him at any moment, and Bo, who was staring off into the middle distance, lost in her own thoughts. I wondered just how much more bad news we could all stand.

The next few days were strange, to say the least.

Morgan and Bo were quieter than usual. At Graham's, I noticed the baby monitor lying around on the table again, and wondered if the old precautions were making a reappearance. If Morgan dragged that baby monitor to school-especially in front of Devon Pritchard-he'd end up with his head jammed down a toilet.

But Morgan was quieter and quieter about school, and I often spotted him with his head down, apparently lost in his own thoughts. Bo, too, seemed to be more withdrawn-though she at least, seemed calmer for the last few days-if calmer meant "less likely to wander outside at three o'clock in the morning."

Meanwhile, with graduate school work, I had less time to obsess over strange bird decapitations, and more time to spend with my nose in books about psychological conditions. Psychology was something that could soak me up-that I could lose myself in with notes and studies, something that could make the noise of the outside world shut up, if only for a little while.

As did stepping over the cracks in sidewalks, and lining things up straight. And counting. That had made a return and no, it was not a happy reunion. I wasn't surprised, though-the habits always made a reappearance at times of stress. Merrill watched these progressions with remarkable tact, and remained silent whenever I reached forward to straighten a line of plates, or fidget with cutlery, choosing instead to wrap his arms around my shoulders, or run his fingers through my hair, often whispering to me, distracting me from whatever ritual I was currently intent on completing, until I had forgotten the worry entirely.

But then again, as I resorted to organizing the world around me to combat my own anxieties, Merrill's method of coping was something similar-except rather than attempt to make the whole world safe, he concentrated on protecting me. He'd always been there for me, and whenever any type of worry spiralled out of control, he'd always been the first one holding me, calming me down. But now, he seemed to make it his personal mission to ensure I remained alive-when he drove me to and from graduate school these days, he insisted on walking me to the door, rather than just dropping me off outside, and whenever I picked him up from the gas station, his arm would be around my shoulders before I could blink, as if he could protect me from any possible danger the world could offer.

The one danger it was currently most likely to offer hovered, precariously unspoken, between us.

"You're so lucky" my friend Hannah muttered one morning, as I pored over an essay. "Your boyfriend actually walks you to the door each day. Who said chivalry is dead?"

I grinned, remembering how I'd made that same comment to Merrill that morning. "Chivalrous of you" I'd said, nodding at the umbrella he'd held over my head-the sunshine of the previous week had disappeared into a constant rainfall that had dangled over the county for the previous few days. "You're like my knight in a shining jacket."

Merrill had raised an eyebrow. "You could never be a damsel in distress. You'd insist on saving yourself."

"You know me well." I stepped forward, yanking him down by his jacket to kiss him. He returned the kiss fiercely, his hands sliding into my hair, pressing me back against the wall. Around us, the rain poured down, but I was only aware of the warmth of his lips on mine, the centre point of the storm and I clung on to him, drinking him in, savouring every second of kissing him I could get. It had been several minutes before I'd been able to persuade myself to break away.

"Yeah, well." I slumped back in my chair, surveying my notebooks. "It's just with the weird stuff that's been going on at the minute."

Hannah nodded, yanking at her hair. The auburn tips brushed her notebook pages. "I heard about Ray Reddy." She bit her lip. "Are you guys OK?"

I nodded. I'd first met Hannah when she was five, when Lionel Pritchard had tried yanking her ponytail, and she'd slammed her foot on top of his, earning my undying respect. She'd then moved away less than two months later, and had only returned to Bucks County two years ago, following her father's death. When we'd ended up in the same college courses-and now, at the same graduate school-we'd ended up hanging out pretty much constantly. Hannah never pushed me for anything, which was one of the reasons it worked between us.

I sighed. "Yeah, we're all right, apart from Merrill worrying I'll have a breakdown every five minutes." I sighed. "And Bo's been acting pretty weird." I bit my lip, unsure how much I should divulge.

Hannah shrugged. "Maybe she's just reacting to the weird stuff going on in general."

I was pretty sure that couldn't explain teleportation, but I sensed it wouldn't be wise to make that point.

So, instead, I shrugged. "Maybe."

Hannah sighed, slumping against me. "I'm so exhausted" she muttered, tugging at her hair. I rolled my eyes. "Darren keeping you up late again?"

Hannah elbowed me in the chest. Darren-her on-off boyfriend I was only privy to occasionally-seemed to drift in and out of her life when it suited him, but then Hannah didn't seem to care. As she explained to me, she didn't "do" serious relationships, not until she'd finished school.

"It would just distract me" she'd explained, through a mouthful of popcorn. "And until then, if I hook up with a few people, who cares?" And if that was her philosophy, who was I to say it was wrong? Besides, it wasn't as though Hannah would ever let any guy take advantage. I'd seen her on nights out, when anyone got too close-her foot had an unerring knack of finding the most sensitive place on the guy's body to kick. I'd pity the fool who tried to take her on.

"Won't be seeing him for a couple of months." She sighed, sliding her hair between her fingers, chewing a strand absent-mindedly. "He's away, working. You know, with his journalism thing."

I nodded. "Missing him?"

Hannah shrugged. "Like I said, it's not serious. Besides, there's too much weird stuff going on here."

She was right about that. I sighed. "What's Carl's theory?"

A grin flickered briefly across Hannah's face. As well as being as book-obsessed as I was, she was also Carl's niece, which gave us both the advantage of entering a bookshop any time we wanted. "He thinks that it's either "the government trying to incite mass panic-"" I smirked at her spot-on imitation of his drawl. "Or that-" Her fingers formed quotation marks. "They're back."

I laughed, but a shiver ran down my spine. That was a possibility I hadn't wanted to entertain.

But Hannah didn't miss a thing-it was one of the qualities I liked best about her. "What?" She stared at me, her eyes suddenly wide, the mascara flaking under her eyelashes.

I shrugged. "Nothing, just-remembering."

Hannah winced. She and her family had been lucky, along with ours'-like us, they ended up taking refuge in their basement-but like us, the memories hadn't yet faded. "Ah. Sorry."

"Not your fault." I cast a quick glance about the library, before leaning forward and lowering my voice. "Do you think that's what it could be?"

Hannah bit her lip and I could tell from her expression she was giving the suggestion more serious thought than she'd like to. "I don't know." Her voice was low and she didn't meet my gaze, her eyes skimming over her notes, instead. "I hope not."

I bit my lip, wishing she could offer me a more definite reassurance. But that wasn't like Hannah-she didn't do bullshit, and she didn't do sugar-coating. And in this case, neither of those would help much, anyway.

But it still made me shiver.

"Anyway-" Hannah's voice was brighter now, and I turned towards her, dragging my mind away from extraterrestrials. "How are you and Merrill?"

Her eyes met mine and she smirked. I rolled my own. "We're great."

Hannah bit her lip, turning red with suppressed laughter. "When's the wedding?"

I rolled my eyes again. "Hannah-" I tried to make my tone sound threatening but it was difficult when I was only holding a ballpoint pen.

"What?" She held up her hands, eyes wide and innocent. "I'm just asking!" But the glint of laughter in her eyes told me otherwise.

I raised an eyebrow and her words dissolved into sniggers. "OK, OK-" She held up her hands again, still laughing. "But you have to admit, it is kind of an obvious question."

"No, it isn't!"

It was Hannah's turn to raise her eyebrows. I sighed. "OK-"

Hannah grinned. "I mean, I'm not saying you will-and maybe not right now, anyway-but seriously, I mean-" Her grin increased, though her eyes softened. "You're really lucky, you know? To have someone like that?"

I nodded, feeling a smile dance across my own lips, in spite of myself. "I know." Because I did. I never stopped thinking about Merrill, or how lucky I was to have him at all. Even just little things-like walking me to the door-kept him in my head the whole day.

Hannah grinned. "See? Not every guy's thoughtful enough to walk you to the door." She shook her head. "Jeez, every time I see you guys together, you can't look at anything but each other.

I looked up, alarmed, but she shook her head. "I don't mean it badly. Just-it's sweet, you know? That you care about each other that much."

I nodded. "He's-" I couldn't find the words to explain how I felt about him. I couldn't. "He's just-" There was nothing I could find to explain how I felt when his arms were looped around my shoulders, or when I was curled up next to him, my fingers braided with his, his lips moving over mine. There was nothing I could say that would summarize how just being near him, made me feel like I was falling and safe all at once, that whenever his hand slid into mine, it felt like it was where I belonged.

"He's Merrill." My voice was faint now, even thinking about him. "He's Merrill. That's why I love him. I can't even explain it-"

Hannah shook her head slowly. "Oh God. You two have really got it bad. It's been over a year since you got together and you're still just-" She waved her hands, apparently unable to think of the words to explain it.

I shrugged and she burst out laughing. "Seriously, I have to be your bridesmaid."

I elbowed her, and she laughed harder. "It's so cute that you two first hooked up in the middle of an invasion. It's like a movie romance or something."

I raised an eyebrow. "Do you know a movie where the two main characters first hooked up in front of a TV in a cupboard?"

Hannah tilted her head to the side. "OK, no."

"And, we didn't-" I ducked my head forward. "We just-kissed a lot. We didn't-do anything else, then."

Hannah grinned wickedly, her head tilted to the side. "No, you just make up for that now-"

I held my finger up threateningly. "One more word-"

Hannah snorted with laughter. "OK, OK, but I tell you everything about Darren and me, I even told you about the time he got-"

I held my hand up. "Yes, and I did not wish to know that." I knew immediately what she was referring to, and it was something that made me look at Darren in a whole new light, afterwards.

"I'm just saying." Hannah raised an eyebrow as she glanced at me. "You don't tell me too much about that-" She gestured with her hands. "Side of things."

I could feel the blood rising in my cheeks, as I examined my notes. "Well, it's just-it's different, it's more personal, it-" I trailed off, unsure how to explain it.

It was strange, how personal it seemed to me; more how utterly personal it seemed to me. I wasn't naive and I wasn't an idiot-I'd had boyfriends before and I knew how everything worked. But with Merrill, it was different to anything I'd had before, and everything I had with him seemed too personal to share with anyone apart from him, even my best friend.

Hannah, mercifully, was nodding. "Yeah, I get it, I get it" she said, holding her hands up. "You don't want to kill me with the details."

I raised an eyebrow. "I'll make a note, next time I need some revenge."

Hannah shook her head. "Oh, God, anything but that."

I smirked, ducking my head forward, and biting my lip. But any thoughts about my notes were scattered, replaced instead by thoughts of Merrill, counting the hours before I'd see him again.

Dear God, I really had turned into one of those girls.

The conversation was still on my mind when I scrambled into Merrill's car, several hours later, as Hannah waved me goodbye from halfway down the street. She threw me a quick wink, indicating Merrill, and I rolled my eyes.

It still didn't stop me throwing my arms around his neck, and bringing my mouth to his. Merrill's hands slid into my hair, and his mouth was open against mine, each kiss hot and fierce. It took me several moments to work up any will to break away.

Merrill's voice was slightly uneven. "What was that for?"

I kissed him again, this time tracing the skin beneath his ears with my fingers, nibbling his bottom lip gently. He shuddered, and I smirked, shifting so that I was half in his lap, my hands threaded in his hair, my legs entwined with his.

"I missed you." My voice was a whisper and I felt myself shivering. I couldn't explain what was happening-all I knew was that I couldn't control it, couldn't have stopped myself kissing him if I wanted to, and I didn't want to.

Merrill's eyes were wide as I bent my head, brushing his mouth with mine. He kissed me back, his lips slowly widening into a grin against my mouth. My hair was wet but I didn't feel cold at all. Merrill's hands were sliding beneath my neck, over my skin and it was making me feel rapidly overheated.

Merrill leaned back from me, his voice uneven. "It's killing me to stop you right now, but if I don't, we're going to end up with an audience."

A soft sound came from my throat and I slumped against his shoulder. A distant part of me was surprised at myself. This-this had never-usually, I was able to control myself better than this, but it was almost as though I'd lost any rational thought. All I wanted to do was kiss him. Something about it sent a shiver down my spine, a vaguely ominous feeling in the back of my brain, but I was able to forget it quickly.

Merrill pressed his lips to my hair, and I lifted my eyes to his. "Take me home" I whispered.

I dragged his mouth back to mine and with a soft groan, he let go of the wheel, ducking his head to kiss me back, and for a moment, I lost myself in the frenzy of his mouth on mine, his hands in my hair.

This time, it was me who pulled away, however grudgingly. "Merrill-" I stared at him.

Merrill was already nodding, yanking himself back into the driver's seat. "Home" I whispered to him, my hand stroking his hair. "Let's go home."

Merrill nodded, his eyes wide. But he stared at me as he shoved the stick into gear and I knew that he was feeling exactly the same thing as I was.

And that neither of us had any idea why-but we weren't going to question it.

"Well-" Merrill's lips whispered over mine as he traced his fingers over my shoulder. "That was-"

His voice trailed off as I kissed him again, my lips pressed against his. His heart stuttered against mine, and I felt his breathing quicken as his hands tangled in my hair, still slightly wet from the rainstorm. I had a brief moment of concern that I might be dampening the pillow.

"Unexpected?" I whispered, as my lips moved to his shoulder. "Seriously, I don't-"

I lay back, goosebumps still raised on my skin. "I don't quite know what that even was, I just-" I turned to stare at him, only now beginning to marvel at just how strange it had been. Merrill's face twitched into his familiar grin.

"I'm not complaining."

I moved closer to him, his arms sliding around me. There was a weird exhaustion seeping through me now-I'd never felt this tired that I could remember. My eyes were closing even as I spoke, my head moving onto Merrill's shoulder. It wasn't the sort of drowsy contentment that I associated with this. It was a strange exhaustion, as if energy had been sapped from every part of me, my limbs almost too heavy to move. Merrill's eyelids were drooping and I knew he was feeling the same thing.

Merrill stared at me, his eyes heavy. "You've never been-you know-" His eyes flickered downwards. "Like that-I mean, that much-"

I laughed, pressing my lips to his collarbone. Merrill closed his eyes for a moment, pulling me closer. For a moment, I could pretend nothing was going wrong, that everything was normal. I nestled into his shoulder. "Tired."

Merrill nodded, and I felt his head slump forward, even as his arms slid around me, so that my head was nestled under his chin. I barely had time to wonder how strange this was, how weirdly exhausted I felt, when my own head slumped forwards, and the last thing I felt was Merrill's arms around me.

"How are those scars on your arm?" Merrill asked me, late on Sunday night, as I slumped against his shoulder.

"Why do you ask?" I stared at him, taking in the curve of his lips, the mark above his mouth. He frowned, his gaze riveted to the three long marks on my arm, scored into my skin as if with a knife.

"You keep staring at them." His voice was low and he traced them gently with his finger. "Are they hurting?"

I sighed. "Yeah, a bit. It's just-" I swallowed, and leaned against him. "It's stupid."

Merrill shook his head. "No, it's not. Tell me."

I sighed. The thought had been preying on my mind for the last few days. "I just-miss Colleen." I ducked my head forward, my hair falling over my face. "It sounds stupid."

Merrill shook his head. "That's not stupid."

I shrugged. "It's just that-with all the weird stuff going on-I kind of miss her."

Merrill pressed his lips to my hair. "That's normal. I mean, you must miss her-"

I nodded, wriggling closer to him. "Yeah. It just-I mean-"

The phone rang, cutting into the conversation. Merrill rolled his eyes, reaching for the receiver. "Bet you it's a wrong number."

"You're on." I crossed my fingers as Merrill picked up the phone. He was already rolling his eyes as Graham's voice sounded out of the receiver.

"Merrill? Isabelle?" Even with the receiver pressed to Merrill's ear, I could hear Graham's voice, echoing out of the phone.

"Graham?" Merrill stared at me, his voice low. "Graham, what's-"

"Merrill." Graham's voice cracked slightly. "I wouldn't usually ask but-could you and Isabelle get down here? Now?"

Merrill's eyes were wide. "Graham, what's-"

"I can't-" Graham's voice cracked and I heard Morgan saying something. "I can't explain-"

I swallowed. "Graham?" My own voice was high-pitched and I stared at Merrill, my heart suddenly frantic.

Graham swallowed hard. "Look, it's-it's Bo-could you just get down here, please-"

But his words were cut off and the receiver slipped from Merrill's hand, as we both stared at the phone. From the other end of the line, drowning out any of Graham's words, there was a shrill, high-pitched scream-a scream that I recognized.

"Bo" I breathed, staring at Merrill. I couldn't think, couldn't move.

Merrill stared back at me for a second, before snatching up the phone. "Graham?" His voice was short, clipped but the whiteness of his knuckles under his skin gave away his tension. "We'll be right there."

The last sound I heard before Merrill disconnected the call was another long, desperate scream.

"Oh my God" I breathed, already scrambling to my feet. "Oh my God, Merrill, what's happened to her-"

Merrill shook his head. "We'll find out." His hands fastened on my shoulders. "She's going to be OK." He nodded, as if convincing himself as much as me. "She's got to be OK."

I nodded, swallowing hard, wrapping my arms around himself. "Of course she will be." I tried again. "She has to be."

But we both knew that no matter what we told ourselves, or how much we tried to convince ourselves of the opposite view, Bo wasn't OK at all.

And not one of us knew how to help her.

On that somewhat dark cliffhanger, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year (once again). Leave a review if you liked it. Next update-January 2nd.