When I woke up, I was still in the chair, a blanket tucked in around me, my glass of water waiting on the table. Derek sat a few feet away on the sofa, lost in thought as he stood watch. Stood watch for what, I didn’t know. It didn’t matter. Threat or no threat, it felt good to wake up and see him there.

And as I watched him, I realized how good it felt. All my denials were just that-denials-because it would be easier if we were just friends. But it wasn’t like that, not for me.

I wanted to walk over there. I wanted to curl up beside him, lean against him, talk to him. I wanted to know what he was thinking. I wanted to tell him everything would be okay. And I wanted him to tell me the same thing. I didn’t care if it was true or not-I just wanted to say it, to hear it, to feel his arms around me, hear the rumble of his words, that deep chuckle that made my pulse race.

He turned my way, and I was so engrossed in my thoughts that I didn’t notice for a second. Then I realized I was staring at him, and looked away fast, cheeks flaming. I could feel him looking at me. Frowning slightly, like he was trying to figure something out. Before he could, I gulped my warm water and said, “Must be almost lunchtime,” which was a stupid thing to say, but all I could think of. It took him a moment before he answered, shrugging and saying, “Maybe.” Then, “You okay?”

I nodded.

“You want to talk about what happened downstairs? With Banks?”

I nodded again.

“I should get Simon,” he said. “He’ll want to know.”

Another nod, but he didn’t move, just watched me as I kept sipping the warm water.

“Chloe.”

I took my time looking up, certain he’d figured out what I’d been thinking and was about to let me down gently. He wouldn’t say “Sorry, I’m not interested,” because that wouldn’t be Derek-too presumptuous-but he’d find some way to convey the same message, as I had with Simon. I like you. I just don’t like you that way.

“Chloe?”

I looked up then, and what I saw in his eyes-My hands fumbled the glass, and I dropped it, water splashing over me, soaking my jeans. I scrambled to catch the glass before it hit the floor, barely making it, on one knee, prize gripped firmly in my hand. And I was still there when I felt the glass being tugged from my fingers. I looked up to see Derek crouching in front of me, his face inches from mine. He leaned forward and-

“What’d you lose?”

Simon’s voice came from the doorway, and we shot to our feet so fast we collided.

“What were you looking for?” Simon said, walking in. “Not your necklace, I hope.”

“N-no. I-I just dropped my glass.” I gestured at my wet jeans. Then I glanced at Derek, who stood there, hands stuffed in his pockets.

“I was just about to…” I was going to say I’d been about to explain what happened with Dr. Banks. Only I didn’t want to. Not now. I wanted to rewind the tape, go back to that moment on the floor, pray Simon didn’t show up for another minute, just long enough to find out if what I thought was going to happen would happen. But it wouldn’t. Not now. The moment had passed.

“I-I should change my pants.”

“Sure.” Simon thumped onto the sofa.

I made it to the door, then Derek said, “Chloe?” and I turned, and it looked like he was trying to think of something to say, maybe find some excuse to come with me, and I wanted to help, to offer him one, and I think if I could have, he’d have taken it, but I couldn’t. God knows, I tried, but I couldn’t, and he couldn’t either, so he just mumbled, “You want an apple or something? I’ll grab it while you’re getting changed,” and I said sure, and that was that.

HOW LAME DOES IT sound if I admit I stayed upstairs longer than necessary, combing my hair, washing my face, using a blow dryer on my jeans when I realized my new ones didn’t fit well, then brushing my teeth.

Considering Derek had seen me in ugly pink pajamas, dirt on my face, my hair full of twigs, having minty-fresh breath wasn’t going to make him go “Wow, she’s really cute.” But it made me feel better.

When I left our room, I went looking for Tori. She’d taken off after the planning meeting, saying something about cleaning, so we hadn’t had time to update her on Royce and Dr. Banks. On the main level, I followed the vacuum cord in the hall and found her in the library, at the bookshelf, dusting off the old, leather books.

“I don’t think you need to do that anymore,” I said. “We’re leaving tomorrow.”

“I don’t mind.”

She pasted on a smile, and I don’t know what tipped me off-that smile or Tori claiming to enjoy dusting. I stepped in and looked around. A light flickered as the kaleidoscope screensaver started up on the open laptop.

“That’s Margaret’s computer,” I said, walking over to it. “Were you on it?”

“Just trying to email some friends and let them know I’m okay, but there’s no internet.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You don’t believe me? Check. No wireless and I can’t find an outlet, not surprising when this place doesn’t even have the phones hooked up.”

“That’s not what I meant.” I turned to her. “Endangering us by emailing your friends? No way.”

She settled on the edge of the desk. “See, now that’s progress, because a week ago, you would have totally bought it.”

I jiggled the mouse. It brought up a file system window. I looked at her.

“It’s not what you think,” she said.

“What do I think?”

“That I’m a spy for the Edison Group, gathering intelligence. Or trying to contact them, let them know where we are.”

“You aren’t a spy.”

A wry smile. “I don’t know if I should thank you for the vote of confidence or blast you for being too nice to accuse me to my face. I know that’s what the guys think. Especially Derek. And I bet I know why they think that, too.”

“Why?”

“Because I got away too easily at Andrew’s house. They’re right. I did.” She eased back on the desk. “I didn’t think so at first. When I escaped, I was all, like, ‘God, I’m good. Those idiots didn’t know who they were dealing with.’” She laughed, but it wasn’t an easy laugh. “Once things cooled down, I thought, ‘Yeah, I’m good, but not that good.’ They knew I had magical outbursts when I got mad. So they knew I wasn’t some helpless teenage girl. If I got away that easily, maybe it was because they let me.”

“Why?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it? At first, I thought they’d planted something on me. I was shaking out my clothes, washing them. I even ironed them, to be sure.”

“That was a good idea.”

“No, it’s nuts. I’ve been hanging around you guys too long. But I also figured, if the Edison Group could catch only one of us that night, planting a GPS and releasing me would be a good idea. I wasn’t about to be the one who led them to us. So I went overboard making sure there was no transmitter.”

“And there wasn’t.”

“As far as I could tell. That leaves option two: they released me because I’m the small fish in the pond. I wasn’t worth keeping.”

“I can’t imagine-”

“Think about it. They get word that werewolf boy is on the rampage. Then they hear that Andrew has escaped. Suddenly, I’m not double-guard worthy. They leave me with one and hope he can keep me. He couldn’t.”

“Okay, so”-I waved at the computer-“what are you doing?”

“Trying to prove I’m not a spy. By spying.” She turned the computer toward her. “Doing some intelligence work of my own is the best way to show I’m not a complete waste of space. When Andrew said they couldn’t get in touch with Gwen that got me thinking.”

She typed as she talked, fingers flying over the keyboard. “Russell obviously didn’t act alone. Maybe Gwen was in on it, but I don’t think so. She didn’t like him.”

“No?”

“He thought she was a ditzy blonde. The only time he got near her was when he was trying to look down her shirt. He’s not evil genius material, either. Someone else masterminded the scheme to capture Derek, and they’re also behind the plan to get rid of the rest of us. I nominate Margaret. I’ve gone through her files and email. Now, I’m digging into the stuff she deleted-or thought she did. Even after you empty your deleted folder or recycle bin, it’s still there, if you know how to find it.”