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not going to the hospital. Try to get some rest, okay?”
    He sighed and obeyed, weary and relieved. Pretty dark-haired Lara. Safe.
    But a question niggled at the back of his brain and pursued him down into the dark.
    Who was the woman in his dream?

3
    The high beam of their headlights scraped the drive, throwing into sharp relief the marble eagles at the gate and the precepts of the Rule inscribed in stone: scire, servare, obtemperare. “To know, to save, to obey.”
    Rockhaven school, announced a discreet sign to the left of the entrance. est. 1749.
    Lara’s heartbeat quickened.
    The tires whispered to a stop in a pool of floodlight within range of the cameras: one mounted on the gate, two artfully hidden in the landscaping. The governors didn’t let respect for tradition interfere with the need for security.
    Lara rolled down her window, careful not to disturb Justin’s head on her lap.
    A red light blinked. The mechanized iron gate swung silently open. Gideon drove through.
    She let out a breath she hadn’t been aware of holding and settled back in her seat. Almost there. Almost home.
    The first time she’d approached Rockhaven in the back of a car, she’d been a victim, a child, sick, sweaty, and scared half to death, with almost no memory of who she was or where she came from.
    Her kind might live as humans, but they were not born as human infants. That status was reserved for the Most High.
    Created as children of the air, the nephilim were sentenced to earth for overstepping the role dictated by Heaven. For intervening, always with the best of intentions, in human affairs. For violating humans’ free will . The most powerful in Heaven—with the most to lose, the most to forget—became the youngest on earth.
    Lara was nine when she Fell .
    She had always felt special—favored—because Simon Axton himself had found her. Not that she’d trusted him at the time, she recalled ruefully. Her short, brutal, bewildering experience on earth had taught her to be wary of strangers, particularly men.
    But something in her had recognized and responded to the tall, terrifying headmaster. And she had fallen in love with the school at first sight. To her child’s eyes, the four-story fieldstone building, with its gabled roof and uncompromising lines, had the appearance of a fortress.
    Rockhaven represented order. Permanence.
    Safety.
    The school became the only home she remembered.
    The only family she knew.
    Moonlight gleamed on the rows of dark windows. The sky overhead pulsed with stars. Cool night air flowed through the open window.
    Lara inhaled in relief. Her responsibility was almost over. The consequences of her decision, good or bad, would be determined by the schoolmasters.
    She smoothed the hair from Justin’s forehead, combing the matted strands with her fingers. His long body was crammed on the seat beside her, his neck and legs at awkward angles, one arm across his chest. Blood blackened the napkins stuck to his wound. She was afraid to disturb him, worried the bleeding would start again. Terrified that this time when she tried to rouse him, he wouldn’t regain consciousness.
    Yellow light spilled from the west portico. Not everyone at the school was sleeping. Somebody was waiting up for them.
    She clasped Justin’s unresponsive hand. All arriving nephilim were screened and welcomed by at least one of the governors. Often the rescued children needed medical attention. Most required a period of education and adjustment as they eased into their new bodies and community life.
    She tightened her hold on Justin’s hand. His skin was warm. Feverish? He definitely needed a doctor. But he was not a child.
    Lara swallowed against the constriction of her throat.
    He wasn’t nephilim either.
    She had overstepped—again—by bringing him here.
    What would the consequences be this time?
    * * *
    Justin swayed as Lara and the Boyfriend supported him out of the car. Nothing wrong with his legs. It was his head that