Prologue

      THE WIND HOWLED outside the house on Gordon Road, shaking the windows. The dream had Ryan Quinn in its grip, and though he wanted to wake up, he felt as if the darkness had swallowed him whole.

      In the dream, a knock sounded at the bedroom door, so loud that it shook the floor. He slowly crossed the room, the floor icy cold against his bare feet. He stopped short as the knob began to turn, the terror welling up inside of him. The door swung open and a huge figure filled the space.

      Ryan’s breath came in shallow gasps as the fear overwhelmed him. He looked up from the man’s boots to his cold weather gear. The hood of the man’s jacket was pulled low over his face and Ryan watched as he brushed the hood back.

      A scream tore from Ryan’s throat and he bolted up in his bed, his heart slamming against his chest. His twin brother, Rogan, pushed up from his pillow on the bed next to him, rubbing his eyes. “Jaysus, Ryan, wake up. You’re having a nightmare.”

      Ryan swallowed hard, pulling the blankets up to his chin. “I’m okay. I’m okay.”

      Rogan shook his head. “What was it this time?”

      Since their father’s death a year ago, Ryan had had trouble sleeping. He’d been plagued with vague, unsettling dreams, dreams that reflected the grief and fear that existed in the Quinn house. But this was