you fall asleep and then wreak havoc in your subconscious,” Claire explained.
“Nightmares?” Ryan asked. When Claire confirmed, his mouth pulled to the side. “Lame.”
Dad leaned in. “Have you heard about night terrors? Toddlers awake but unconscious, huddled in a corner, screaming for their mothers. Can you imagine being that parent, trying to calm them, trying to tell them you’re there, but they don’t recognize you?”
Ryan shifted in his seat.
Dad continued, “What about sleepwalkers dying when awoken? Falling to their deaths from a balcony? Freezing to death after wandering outside in the dead of winter? Sleepwalk homicides?”
Ryan’s smirk vanished.
“Yeah,” Dad said. “Not lame.”
Dad and Uncle Ryan always had a strained relationship, but I didn’t know the true reason until Bex let it slip that Ryan had loved my mom once, too. For a long time, Dad thought Mom and Uncle Ryan were meant to be together.
Dad reached over to touch Mom’s knee, satisfied with Ryan’s reaction.
“Bex,” Mom said, “don’t you and Eden have work to do?”
Bex nodded once and pointed at me. “Your mom wants me to try to kick your butt. Get outside.”
Claire stood, clapping once. “I have missed this family!”
“You wanna take a crack at me?” I asked. “You remember what happened last time?”
“I do,” Claire said. “And I’ll let you break my arm again if it means I get to throw you facedown into another mud puddle.”
Mom sighed, grinning. “Takes me back.”
Claire shot her a look. “C’mon, Bex. We can gang up on her.”
“I’m in,” Bex said, following his sister out the back door.
I looked to my parents, holding out my hands. “Why do they keep trying? They haven’t beaten me since I was seven.”
Dad nodded toward the open door. “Humor them.”
I sighed. “Does it ever stop?”
“Training?” Dad asked.
A sad expression weighed down his features. I felt like he’d just aged ten years right in front of my eyes.
“I hope not. I hope it’s all for nothing,” he said.
My eyes fell to the floor, and then I pushed out the door to the courtyard. The acre of grass was enclosed by the Grey mansion on three sides. I stood in the middle with Bex in front of me and Claire behind. A fountain along with various sculptures had once stood where I was waiting to be attacked, but we had obliterated those years ago.
Bex crouched. I could hear Claire doing the same. They were excited, near laughter. I closed my eyes, hoping they would just give up sooner rather than later.
Claire ran at me. She would have been a blur to most people, but I only saw the world slowing down around her. Instead of lunging toward me, she stopped a few yards away, strolling up behind me.
I straightened my stance taken off guard by her new tactic.
“They don’t always behave like enemies,” she said, gently touching my cheek. “Often, the strategy is to come softly—not to attack, but to infiltrate.” She hugged me and then kissed my cheek, keeping her voice low. “The most dangerous enemies are those you love.”
Claire turned, sauntering over to her baby brother as if a tune were playing in her head, her lithe body relaxed and inconspicuous. Bex was watching my reaction with amusement, but as soon as Claire was in striking distance, the heel of her hand was against his chest, sending him across the lawn.
He bent his knees and then kicked forward, landing on his feet. “What the hell, Claire?”
She arched an eyebrow, smirking at her brother. “Sometimes, they’ll use the ones you love.”
Bex rubbed his chest, more offended than hurt.
“Eden,” Claire said, waiting. When I didn’t respond, she continued, “The lesson is …”
“Trust no one?” I asked.
She pointed at me. “No one outside of family. Even your friend.”
“Morgan?” I said. “He’s harmless.”
“Listen to what I’m saying, not what you want to hear. There is a thin line between enemy and friend. Even