IT’S CALLED NYCTOPHOBIA. I LOOKED IT UP once. It’s the official term for an abnormal and persistent fear of the dark. I’ve had it ever since my parents and sister were murdered during an in-home burglary while I hid under my bed.

In the dark I couldn’t see anything; all I could hear was the screaming.

And then the silence.So, yeah. I’ve been scared like hell of the dark ever since.

Go figure.Unfortunately, that’s where I found myself when I opened

my eyes. Frankly, I didn’t remember closing them. I’d been in the mall, I remembered that much. I’d just lifted a new pair of shoes—my old pair was worn out since all I do is walk every-where in the city, day in and day out. This pair was nice. Red. With strong laces that, if necessary, could double as a weapon.

The streets were tough sometimes. Especially at night. Es-pecially in the dark.

Like right now.

9780373210909_TS.indd 9 2013-06-26 4:23 PM

MICHELLE ROWEN10

But this wasn’t the street, I knew that much. I was inside.Somewhere.Choking panic began to f lood my body. I knew freaking

out wouldn’t help, but sometimes you can’t stop yourself—or reason with yourself—when you’re in the process of freak-ing out.

I felt a pinch at my right wrist and reached over with my other hand, trying to feel my way through the inky black-ness. It was a metal cuff. Attached to a chain. Attached to the smooth, cold metal wall behind me.

What the hell is going on?Had I been caught shoplifting? Was this prison? I wracked

my brain to try to remember being arrested, but came up blank. No, I’d grabbed the shoes, shoved them under my coat, and left the store to go into the half-abandoned mall where I’d put them on and thrown my old ones in a garbage can. And then…then what happened?

I remembered wanting to grab some food. I’d had two bucks to my name, so I’d figured I could buy a small order of French fries at one of the few restaurants that were still open. That would last me a day before my stomach would start com-plaining again.

Had I even made it to the food court?I couldn’t have. I was still hungry. Starving. My body felt

as if it was eating itself, but that was a bit of an exaggeration, I guess. Yesterday I’d had an entire meal. Ordered off the menu even, and then tried to skip out before the bill came. The owner of the diner had caught me, reprimanded me, and I’d figured that that was it—he’d call the cops.

Instead, he’d taken pity on me and made me wash dishes.

9780373210909_TS.indd 10 2013-06-26 4:23 PM

COUNTDOWN 11

It was a humbling experience, but I’d had a lot of those since my family died.

In the end, I appreciated his kindness. Washing dishes was a whole lot better than getting arrested.

Okay, breathe, Kira, I told myself. And I did. I took a deep breath in through my nose and let it out through my mouth. My heart thudded hard in my ears.

Why couldn’t I remember what had happened after I’d taken the shoes? Damn it. And where was I?

I seriously had to calm down. This wasn’t helping.I took another breath in and out and forced myself to lis-

ten. For anything. There had to be something other than this total silence that told me absolutely nothing helpful.

And then I heard…something. I pushed my fears out of the way as best I could and strained my ears.

Breathing. I could hear soft breathing.Someone else is in the room.This realization did not ease my mind. Just the opposite.

The thought that somebody was in the darkness with me scared me enough that I almost started to cry.

But I was tough now. At least that’s what I tried to tell my-self every morning when I woke up to face another day. This shouldn’t be any different.

“H-h-hello?” Stuttering does not help the situation, I thought. “Who’s there?”

The breathing hitched. I heard something heavy shift against the f loor about fifteen feet away.

Then the something spoke. “Wh…what the hell?”A guy’s voice. His words were gruff and raspy as if he’d just

woken from a deep sleep.“Who are you?” I ventured again.

9780373210909_TS.indd 11 2013-06-26 4:23 PM

MICHELLE ROWEN12

Why did I sound so weak? I hated that.He cleared his throat and groaned. “Shit.”Well, he did seem to have a fine command of the English

language.I strained to see something, but there was only black. “Tell

me who you are.”There was a pause, and then another groan. It actually

sounded like a moan of pain as I heard him shift position again.I frowned. “Hey, are you okay?”He snorted. “Fantastic. I’m just fantastic, thanks for ask-

ing. And you?”Sarcasm. Yeah, I recognized that.“I’ve been better, actually.”Chains rattled. Not mine, so that meant that this guy was

also restrained. But why?“I’m Rogan,” he said after a moment. “So pleased to meet

you.”“Where are we?”“I tell you my name and you don’t reciprocate? Didn’t your

mother teach you any manners?”“My mother’s dead.”That shut him up. Momentarily. “Sorry to hear that.”“It was a long time ago.”“Doesn’t make it any easier.”Very true. Two years. Felt like forever—yet, at the same

time, it felt like only yesterday. “My name’s Kira.”“Well, Kira, where we are is anyone’s guess.”I pressed back against the hard wall.We could be anywhere, and there wasn’t a damn thing to

give me a clue where that was. Except for the main drags, the city was so vacant that we could be in any one of dozens of

9780373210909_TS.indd 12 2013-06-26 4:23 PM

COUNTDOWN 13

abandoned warehouses or factories. And nobody would ever find us.

I’d heard about kids who’d vanished from the streets never to be seen again. I was sure they weren’t stories with happy endings.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” I asked. “Who brought you here? Are you chained, too?”

“I don’t know who brought me here. And, yeah, I’m locked up real tight.”

“Who would do this?” My voice caught on the words.“Try to relax.”“I’m relaxed.”“Doesn’t sound like it to me.”I banged the back of my head lightly against the metal wall

and hugged my knees in close to my chest. “You sound re-laxed enough for the both of us.”

“What can I say? So far this is a lot better than where I was scheduled to go in a few days.”

“Oh? And where’s that?”He was silent for a moment. “You really want to know?”Not really. I didn’t care. “Sure.”There was another lengthy pause. “Saradone.”My blood ran cold. Saradone was the maximum security

prison just outside the city limits. Only the worst criminals were sent there; some for life, most for death. Horrible peo-ple who’d done horrible things. Luckily, they didn’t put girls who stole shoes there…yet.

He laughed at my answering silence. “Guess you’ve heard of it.”

I was in the same room with somebody bound for Sara-done—so that meant he was dangerous. Criminally danger-

9780373210909_TS.indd 13 2013-06-26 4:23 PM

MICHELLE ROWEN14

ous. Panic returned to swirl through me, constricting my chest, my breath.

Both of us were chained. What was this? What was going on?

A cold trickle of sweat slid down my back.“Why were you going there?” I tried to make the ques-

tion sound f lippant, as if I was making conversation about the weather.

“My days at St. Augustine’s end in a couple days when I turn eighteen.”

St. Augustine’s. That name I also knew. It was a juvenile detention hall located on the west side of the city. If I ever got arrested, that might be where I ended up.

I’d heard that it was hell.I hesitated to ask, but couldn’t help myself. “What were

you at St. Augustine’s for?”“Murder,” he answered simply.“Oh.” My stomach churned as I tested the chains again.

They were too strong. I wasn’t going anywhere. “Was it self-defense?”

“No.” There was a sharp edge to his voice now. “But what do you care?”

“I don’t.”But I did. Of course, I did. I cared because I was trapped

in this room with an admitted murderer—stuck in the dark with him, just as I’d been when my family was murdered.

Maybe I was just having a really bad dream. Maybe I’d fallen and hit my head in the mall and was passed out cold in front of the understaffed burger place in the food court. Maybe some gorgeous rich kid would find me. He’d fall instantly in love with me, kiss me like Prince Charming did with Snow

9780373210909_TS.indd 14 2013-06-26 4:23 PM

COUNTDOWN 15

White, wake me from my deep sleep, and we’d ride away into the sunset, away from my past and into a bright, exciting fu-ture, just the two of us.

I blinked against the darkness.No, I was awake. Definitely awake.Too bad.“You’re quiet all of a sudden,” Rogan said. “Don’t want to

talk anymore?”“Not particularly.”“Why not? Because you’re scared of me now?”Pretty much, but I wasn’t going to let him know that if I

could help it.“No. Mostly because I’ve decided that you don’t know any-

thing that can help me.”“Doesn’t mean you have to be rude.”“Rude?” I felt a f lare of anger and then settled back, trying

to remain calm. My ass hurt from sitting on the hard metal f loor so I shifted to cross my legs. “Yeah, I’m so rude. Sorry about that. I guess you’ve been treated so nice at St. Augus-tine’s that my behavior’s a real shocker. Besides, sounds to me like you deserve rude. Or worse.”

He was silent so long that I felt even more uncomfortable than I had been to start with.

“And are you so innocent if you’re here with me right now?” His words were clipped, sounding as if I’d struck a nerve. “What did you say your name was…Kerry?”

“Kira,” I corrected. What a dick this guy was. “I’m not in-nocent, but I know I won’t end up at Saradone.”

“Don’t be so sure.”I guess I could thank this jerk for keeping my mind off my

9780373210909_TS.indd 15 2013-06-26 4:23 PM

MICHELLE ROWEN16

fear of the dark. He was getting me angry enough that fear had moved a couple notches down the list.

I chewed my bottom lip. “I haven’t murdered anybody.”“Not yet.”“Not ever.”“Yeah, we’ll see about that.”“What’s that supposed to mean?”“They’ve got you now. They’ll make you do whatever they

want you to do, and don’t kid yourself. You’ll do it.”“They? Who are they?”Rogan went silent.My heart pounded in my ears. “You can’t just say something

like that and not say anything else. Who are they?”“The ones who put you here. Who put me here.”“I thought you said you didn’t know who put you here?”“I have an idea.”“Want to share?”“Maybe not. You’re not all that nice.” It sounded as if he

was smiling now. Was he mocking me?“I’m not all that nice?” I repeated.“Is this a surprise to you? Do you normally charm the

pants off the boys you meet? Because you’re failing big-time with me.”

“Who put us in here?” I said it f latly. I wanted him to re-alize I wasn’t joking around. If he didn’t tell me, then I was going to scream and keep screaming until they—whoever they were—dragged me out of there.

“They gave me a choice,” he said after a moment. “Go to prison for the rest of my life, or come with them and play their sick little game. At least here I might have a chance. A small one, but a chance. As soon as I agreed, they knocked me out.

9780373210909_TS.indd 16 2013-06-26 4:23 PM

Continue reading Countdown

Order your copy at one of these retailers

Har

lequ

in T

een

10

/13

Cou

ntdo

wn

#21

0909

Pag

e 4

If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

ISBN-13: 978-0-373-21090-9

COUNTDOWN

This is the revised text of a work first published as COUNTDOWN under the pseudonym Michelle Maddox by Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc., in 2008.

Copyright © 2008 by Michelle Rouillard

Copyright © 2013 by Michelle Rouillard

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario M3B 3K9, Canada.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

For questions and comments about the quality of this book, please contact us at CustomerService@Harlequin.com.

® and TM are trademarks of Harlequin Enterprises Limited or its corporate affiliates. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.

Printed in U.S.A.

9780373210909_TSPL.indd 4 2013-05-11 12:25 PM