The grey stone wall to her right rose like a cliff face above her. Birds circled and cawed in the dusk as the baleful yellow sun shone through a haze; they looked like pterodactyls with outstretched, leathery wings. To her left was a pool of water that stretched away into the fog. In the water the dark, burned trunks of logs bobbed–or were they bodies?

Dara can’t remember Dan, or the murders. Someone is stealing eyes. And there’s a monster; it lives in a wooden box.

Celeste had been dreaming of Bryn since she was eight: the flash of light across the sky, Bryn running, the explosion that nothing human should have survived, and then Bryn climbing out of the smoking crater and looking right at her. He was beautiful: six feet tall with muscles like coiled steel and dark blue eyes. His hair was black and his body was chiseled out of marble, like a Greek God.

For years she had thought he was nothing but a dream. But slowly the dream changed, and it seemed that he was trying to reach her. His arm stretched out as if to touch her.

And then she saw him, burning under the light of dawn. His skin was flame as their eyes met. Celeste’s heart sped up and she gasped. Bryn had found her.

They meet in a graveyard, each dealing with a terrible loss. Silas is bleeding and talking to a dead girl. Melanie is crying and running her fingers over Gary’s headstone. A secret organization is chasing her. She has a gift they need. And another group, known as The Sirens, is working on a weapon that will change everything.