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gets behind me and loops his arm around my neck, pulling me until my back is flush with his chest. My heart hammers in my ears.
    “Let go of me.” I writhe in his grip and find that he’s a lot stronger than I am.
    “I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to come with us now.” Brone hauls me toward a black car with tinted windows.
    “You’re Sarafites , aren’t you?”
    Brone stops walking, but still holds me tight. “You got a death-wish?”
    I shake my head.
    “Well, that’s unfortunate,” Craven hisses, “because there’s no way we can just let you walk away now.”
    Panic seizes me. “No. Wait. Please, hear me out. You don’t have to hurt me and I’ll tell you why.”
    “This ought to be good.” Craven sneers. “Go ahead. Entertain us.”
    Brone drags me to the corner of the parking lot until all three of us are hidden behind a dumpster. He keeps his arm around my neck, while Craven stands in front of me wearing a sick smile.
    “I want to become one of you,” I say. From the time I was little I had been fascinated with the idea of the Sarafites . I’d never actually met one, but I’d dreamt of it for years. The followers of Zerach are all wet blankets, but the stories I’ve heard about the followers of Saraf make them sound like strong fighters. My whole life I’ve been told what a loser I am by my dad, but I know I have something to offer. If I can just get the Sarafites to see that, maybe I can become one of them and get the hell out of this sorry town.
    “It doesn’t work like that. You can’t just become one of us. You have to earn your way in.” Craven glares.
    Hope blooms in my chest. “Okay, what do I have to do?”
    “You have to have something we want.” Craven’s eyes darken. “And unfortunately for you, you don’t.”
    “You’re wrong.” I hold up my arms, exposing the smooth, bare flesh, devoid of markings. “Look, I’m not a follower of Zerach . I can help you.”
    Craven shrugs. “So you’re not a follower or Zerach ? That’s not unique. Now, if you had superpowers or something we could talk.”
    Delaney Scott pops into my head. “What if I know of someone with superpowers? Would that help?”
    “Do you?” Craven cocks an eyebrow.
    My spirits lift. I’ve hooked him. “Yeah, there’s a girl I go to school with. Known her since we were kids. I’ve seen her do things, things out of the ordinary. I’ve always suspected she had magical powers.”
    “Interesting.” Craven strokes his chin. “Okay, I’ll tell you what. If you can find out some information about this girl that would be useful to us, maybe I’ll see about you joining us.”
    “Really?” It seems too good to be true.
    Craven gets really close to my face. “But we’ll be watching, and if you even think about telling someone about us, you’ll regret it. Understand?”
    Brone tightens his hold as if to drive home the point.
    Biting my lower lip, I nod.
    “Then we have a deal.” Craven snaps his fingers and Brone releases me. “We’ll be in touch.”
     
     
    It’s early morning and the sky is crisp and clear outside the window. I gulp down a cup of cold, sludgy coffee and get up from the rickety kitchen table, determined not to be late for school today.  No need to piss off Dad again.
    “You’re running late, Sam.”
    Speak of the devil. My shoulders tense as Dad shuffles into the kitchen, already dressed for work in his typical jeans and flannel shirt. His graying hair is slicked back and hardened with gel.
    After dropping my mug into the sink that is already piled high with dirty dishes, I shake my head and push past him.
    “Guess who’s bringing her car into the shop today?”
    I’m clueless. Dad normally doesn’t get excited about our customers. It’s not like he has many friends in town. And the truth is that I don’t really care. I keep walking down the narrow hallway, determined not to strike up a conversation. 
    “Delaney Scott. Can you believe it? She’s never