Horizon

ELEVEN

DAIRE

“Well, Cade’s never been known for his subtlety, that’s for sure.” Lita leans back against the couch cushions and scowls. “Or his originality, for that matter. A masquerade black-and-white ball? Please.”

“I thought calling it the Resurrection Ball was kind of clever,” Xotichl says. “You know, the building’s resurrecting, they’re resurrecting . . .”

“How can you be sure it’s from Cade?” Axel cuts in, his gaze moving among us. “No one’s seen him in months.”

“Well, if not Cade, then it’s definitely from one of the other Richters.” I glare at the invitation propped on the table before me, and curl my feet up under my legs. “Doesn’t matter who delivered it, Coyote was here, and he left a direct challenge to me, to Dace, to all of us. But the worst part is . . .” I focus on my fingers twisting in my lap. Struggling to find the right way to tell my friends that the house is no longer a sanctuary, no longer a safe place to hide, in a way that doesn’t leave them terrified.

“There’s a worse part?” Lita gathers her hair off her neck and fans herself with her hand. “Well, go on then, let’s hear it.”

Deciding to just state it like it is, I say, “Finding that dead raven on the stoop means the protection spell is no longer working.”

Lita’s eyes bulge. Axel squints. Auden pulls Xotichl closer, while Xotichl’s expression turns to dread.

“Not long after I arrived in Enchantment, Paloma assured me the property was protected. Claimed I had nothing to fear as long as I stayed within the surrounding walls. But now, after this”—I jab a thumb toward the invite—“it’s clear that no longer holds.”

“But we’ve been so good!” Lita cries. “We’ve maintained the salt border by pouring a fresh coat every day. And just last week, Axel fixed a weak spot on the coyote fence when he saw one of its supports was coming loose, causing it to sag against the adobe wall.”

Axel nods to confirm it, as Xotichl adds, “And every time I come over, which is pretty much every day, I reinforce the protection spell in the way Paloma showed me.”

“And yet, despite all our efforts, Coyote still managed to breach.” I shrug. Determined to state the facts with as little drama as possible. “It’s no longer safe for you here. What you choose to do about that is for you to decide.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lita lets go of her hair, allowing it to spill over her shoulders in gorgeous, white-tipped waves.

“It means that things are about to get serious. Things are about to escalate. And while I’ll do my best to protect you, I think the Richters have just taken the first step toward showing me the depths of my limits.”

I return my focus to my friends. Watching as Xotichl keeps a wary gaze on the box, while seeking comfort in Auden’s nearness. What a shame that after all the time they’ve spent apart, he returns to Enchantment just in time for another round of Coyote versus Raven.

“Everyone has limits,” Xotichl says. “We just have to discover theirs.” She prods her new glasses up the delicate bridge of her nose. And when her eyes meet mine, I can’t help but grin. Despite the dire circumstance we find ourselves in, I’m grateful that her sight has returned. Gives us one positive thing to cling to in the midst of a heaping pile of awful.

I glance at Dace beside me, wondering what he’s thinking behind that clenched jaw and narrowed gaze. But he remains as he is, quiet and somber with his focus turned inward, lost in a thought I can’t even fathom.

“Okay, so here’s what we know for sure.” Lita moves from the couch to the fan, seeking relief from the unbearable heat. “The Richters are back in business, both literally and figuratively. Question is, what are we going to do about it?”

“We’re going to rise to the challenge.” I look upon my small group of friends, my voice as determined as my gaze.

“Meaning?” Axel looks at me; he’s the only one in the room who isn’t wilting in the heat, and I can’t help but feel envious.

“It’s like Xotichl said, everyone has limits, no one’s invincible. Heck, even Superman had kryptonite. We just have to discover the Richters’ weakness.”

They all look at me. Well, everyone but Dace who continues to dwell in a faraway place.

“We need to be on high alert. We can’t afford to slack off or get lazy. If nothing else, this invite is a clear warning that the honeymoon is officially over. It’s a direct challenge if I’ve ever seen one.”

“And, so what do we do about it? Other than being on high alert, and all?”

“You can start by not blocking the fan.” Auden motions impatiently. “C’mon, Lita, share the breeze. Flower and I are dying over here.”

Lita slinks back to Axel’s side, as I say, “For starters, we’re going to the masquerade.” I lift my glass of iced ginger tea and press it to my forehead and cheeks, transferring the sweat from the glass to mix with the sweat on my skin.

“That’s it? We just fix our hair, change our clothes, slap on a mask, and head out—or do we have some kind of plan?” Lita’s voice is less sarcastic than her words might imply.

“I don’t have a plan. Or, at least not yet.” I sink deeper into the cushions, ashamed to admit I’m as clueless as they are. Still, lying won’t do any good.

“Okay, so let’s put our heads together and come up with a plan,” Lita says. “You don’t have to go this alone, you know. We may not be Seekers, but I’m sure we can help.” She echoes her earlier lecture. “For starters, who’s the entertainment? Auden, are you playing the event?”

Auden looks up from his cell. His face shading with embarrassment at being caught texting again. “Sorry,” he says. “Just trying to arrange a meeting with Luther to sign some contracts.”

“Well, while you have him, ask if he can try to squeeze you into the lineup,” Lita says.

Auden looks uncertain. “I think Epitaph’s scheduled to play.”

“So, make it a reunion, then.” Lita makes an impatient face.

“They were pretty pissed when I left. I doubt they’ll want to see me . . .” Auden flips the phone in his hand.

“Don’t be so sure.” Xotichl sneaks closer, whispers into his ear. And, unable to resist her, it’s only a second later when Auden starts thumb-typing again.

A few moments later, he says, “Well, Luther’s not happy, but he said he’ll do what he can.”

“Good.” Lita nods. “So hopefully we’ll have someone to cover the stage. Dace—what about getting your old job back? Any chance of that?”

I turn to Dace, wondering what’s going on with him. He got here much later than anticipated, and he’s barely said a word ever since.

“Leandro offered.” He shrugs, rubs a hand over his chin. “But that was before Phyre blew up the place. For all I know, he blames me.”

“Doubtful. Didn’t you pull Cade to safety? I’m sure Leandro’s aware of that.”

“We didn’t do it to save Cade.” I’m quick to defend our actions, even though there’s no need. My friends are well aware of the mystical connection that binds the twins’ lives.

“The reason doesn’t matter. Fact is, Cade’s alive because of you.”

“Yeah, and he left a dead raven as a thank you.” I shake my head.

“Kind of like when a cat leaves a dead mouse as a gift for its owner,” Xotichl says, prompting us to laugh, though the moment’s short-lived.

“Still, might be worth a try,” Auden says. “Maybe you can head over. Grovel a bit. Appeal to his ego. It would be good to have someone on the inside.”

I study Dace’s expression, but he keeps it so carefully guarded it’s impossible to read.

“What the hell.” Dace’s gaze briefly meets mine. “The gas station’s no longer an option. Not after today.” I lean closer, willing him to elaborate, but he just breezes right past it. “And there’s no doubt I could use the money. Maybe he’ll even give me an advance so I can cover my rent. That is, if I grovel enough.” He exchanges a quick look with Auden. “So yeah. Fine. Worth a try, right?”

“Okay,” Xotichl says. “So now that we’ve got two possible insiders, what about the rest of us? Do we pose as normal, clueless partygoers? Or do we go in with an agenda? Or both?”

“Too bad Axel’s not still invisible,” Auden says. “That might’ve helped.”

“Doubtful,” I say. “For some inexplicable reason, Cade was able to see Axel that night just after he stabbed me and Axel appeared to take me to the Upperworld.”

“That was a glitch I still can’t explain.” Axel looks truly perplexed. “I used to be quite adept at light-bending.” Fielding Auden’s blank look, he explains, “I could will myself to be unseen even by those meant to see me. I was one of the few who could do such a thing. Though it was highly frowned upon.”

“Rebel.” Lita grins, nudges his side. Causing Axel to beam.

“Anyway,” I say, hoping to get this conversation back on track. “While we may not have the details just yet, I think we need to be ready for anything since clearly they’re up to something more than just a reopening.” I go on to tell them about seeing Marliz vanish inside and the pile of glimmering dust she left in her wake.

“Glimmering dust?” Axel looks at me, brows drawn tightly together.

I nod toward the hat I left on the counter. So much has happened, I forgot all about it until now. Within a matter of seconds Axel has glided seamlessly from the couch to the kitchen then back to Lita’s side where he peers into the cap, dips a single finger inside, then looks at me and says, “Onyx. Black onyx to be exact.”

“Okay . . . anyone mind cluing me in? I’m a little lost here.” Lita looks from me to him.

“They must be using it to enhance the building. It’s impossible to get a good look at it what with all the barriers they’ve set up around it. But that”—I nod toward the cap now placed on Axel’s lap—“it’s definitely not your usual construction material, which means they’re building a bigger, better, more powerful Rabbit Hole.”

“By using black onyx they’ll add immense power and strength,” Axel says. “Not only will onyx provide support and staying power, it’ll increase the energetic vibration as well as retain the memory of all that went before.”

“So . . . what you’re really saying is that we’re doomed to bad food and watered-down drinks forever?” Lita grins, trying to add a bit of levity to a room gone suddenly somber. But it’s only a moment later when her smile fades and she settles into the grim reality that awaits us.

“They’re ensuring that the memory and strength of the Richter ancestry, along with the legacy of their magick and power, stays forever retained in those walls,” Axel says, and when his eyes meet mine, he looks as worried as I am.

The Richters have found a way to harness the power of their ancestry and the countless acts of evil they’ve wrought.

In other words: We are greatly outmatched.

Though it may prove worse still. They may have found a way to turn the entire town against us.

I look among my friends and say, “And let’s not forget the tourmalines they included in the New Year’s Eve swag bags. I’m sure it’s just a matter of time until they come into play. There’s no way the Richters would ever waste such a valuable resource.”

“But why do you think they waited so long to exploit them?” Lita looks at me. “I mean, nothing out of the ordinary has happened for months.”

“That’s the million-dollar question,” Xotichl says, fiddling with the glasses she’s still not used to wearing. “Though try as I might, I can’t get a read on the energy.”

Despite the heat, I’m left chilled by her words. She’s been saying things like that so often, I wonder if she has any idea just how frequently she’s come to repeat herself where her failing abilities are concerned. Then again, I’m probably overreacting. Maybe she’s so excited by the novelty of seeing, it’s distracted her from her more mystical gifts.

I return my attention to my friends. “Okay, so the bottom line is, from this moment on, until we come up with an actual plan, we need to be on high alert for signs of anything out of the ordinary.”

“And, I have to go buy a new party dress,” Lita says. “Which definitely calls for a trip to Albuquerque since it’s not like I’ll find anything in this fashion-challenged town. Xotichl—you in?”

Xotichl nods eagerly, as Auden says, “I don’t know about you, but that sounds like a wrap. Anyone up for pizza?”

“I was thinking maybe we could hang in the Lowerworld instead,” Lita says. “It’s gotta be cooler there, than here.”

“Maybe so, but last I checked, there was no pizza to be had in those parts.”

“True . . .” Lita purses her lips, trying to decide which holds greater appeal.

“Was there pizza in the Upperworld?” Xotichl looks at Axel, but Axel just laughs and shakes his head.

“Poor baby.” Lita leans in, ruffles his hair. “You’ve got a lot of catching up to do. Which means we shouldn’t waste a single pizza-ordering opportunity.” She pulls her phone from her pocket and scrolls through her speed-dial list as Auden grabs his keys.

“You’ll need to pick up some drinks too.” I head into the kitchen and peer into the fridge, if only to confirm that other than a nearly empty tub of cream cheese and a package of week-old bagels, it truly is empty. “I’m way overdue on food shopping.”

“No worries, we’re on it.” Lita grabs her purse with one hand and Axel with the other. “We’ll take supermarket duty. Xotichl and Auden, you’re responsible for fetching the pizza, and Daire and Dace . . .” She looks over her shoulder and centers her gaze on mine. “Whatever’s brewing between you, get it settled before we return. This may prove to be our last fun Friday night for a while. So I’d rather not waste it on relationship drama.”

TWELVE

DAIRE

“Since when did Lita get so insightful?” I tip onto my toes and reach into an overhead cupboard. Glancing over my shoulder, waiting for Dace to react, but he remains frustratingly silent. “Hello? Anyone home?” I drop onto my heels and unload an armful of glasses onto the counter. Poking his shoulder, I say, “Dace. Hey. You in there?”

He squints. Shakes his head. Requiring a handful of seconds to travel from his private world of faraway thoughts to the tiny kitchen in Enchantment, New Mexico, where we both stand.

“Sorry. Guess I’m a little preoccupied.” He swipes a hand through his hair, pushes his bangs from his eyes.

“A little?” I quirk a brow, make a face. But when he fails to react, I say, “Anything you want to talk about?”

He meets my question with a conflicted look.

“Did something happen at work?”

He rubs a hand over his chin, purposely avoiding my gaze. “Didn’t make it to work today. Spent the day with Leftfoot instead.”

He returns his focus to me, but the move comes too late. His words were clearly veiled, and I can’t even fathom what sort of secret he’s so determined to keep.

I study his face, relieved to find my image reflected in his eyes. Last time he acted like this, that wasn’t the case. “Why would spending the day with Leftfoot leave you like this?”

“Like what?”

“Cold. Distant. Remote. Geographically close, but emotionally unavailable.”

He looks at me as though he’s just woken from a very long sleep.

“God, I’m so sorry. Is that what I’ve done?”

I bite my lip and nod.

“C’mere.” He reaches for me, clasping me at the waist as he pulls me into his arms. “I’m not trying to push you away, really.” But when his mouth tips at the side, I’m not sure I believe him. Dace’s inability to lie without giving himself away is just one of the many things I love about him.

“Dace—what’s going on? What happened today?”

He shakes his head, returns his focus to me as though willing himself to try harder. The fact that he has to will such a thing only deepens my concern. What happened to my love-trumps-evil optimist from this morning?

“It’s been a long day. A long and tiring day. You know how Leftfoot is . . .”

His breezy attitude clashes with the fine lines forming around his eyes, the grim downward tilt of his lips. Unwilling to partake in his charade, I move to untangle myself from his arms. To my surprise, he lets me.

I move about the kitchen, busying myself with gathering the correct amount of plates, napkins, and drinking glasses. Loading it all onto a tray I carry into the den where we’ll gorge on pizza and watch loads of movies where Lita will grill me about which actors I knew (and which actors I kissed) back in my former life as a Hollywood makeup artist’s jet-setting daughter. The usual plan when we don’t head for the Lowerworld.

I place the tray on the table, start to arrange all the settings, when I realize I forgot to include the red-pepper flakes Xotichl loves, and turn so quickly I smack into Dace.

“For the last time, what is going on with you?” I cry, frustrated to find him pulling away just when I need him the most.

“Daire—when was the last time you checked the prophecy?” His eyes glitter so strangely a chill slips over my skin.

I pause. Struggle to remember. Finally admitting it’s been a while. “Maybe a month—quite possibly more.” I shrug. “Why? Why is this relevant? What have you learned?”

Without a word, he grasps my hand in his and leads me out of the den, through the kitchen, and up the ramp to the office where the Codex is kept.

THIRTEEN

DACE

When the worst is confirmed, when we’ve exhausted the subject between us, all we can do is sit quietly and wait for our friends to return.

Bodies stiff, thoughts mired deep in our own private hell, when a blare of chatter and laughter bursts through the door, only to halt a few seconds later when our friends find us sitting silent and stricken with the Codex propped open before us.

Lita’s the first to react. Centering it before her, she reads the words that are branded on my brain no matter how much I’ve tried to deny them.

When air sears and water fades

When tempest winds ravage fire-scorched plains

When Shadow eclipses Sun—the Seer shall fall

Causing three worlds to descend into darkness eternal

“Okay, so what we have here is another quatrain.” Lita shrugs, pushes away from the book as though it’s not to be taken seriously. Try as she might to appear unaffected, her spooked expression betrays her. Yet, it doesn’t stop her from adding, “We averted the last prophecy, so why should this one be any different?” Her gaze searches Axel’s, seeking reassurance.

“The last prophecy was thwarted in part because of me.” Axel’s expression turns guarded as his eyes glow dark violet. “I broke one of my most sacred vows. I interfered in that which is considered strictly forbidden.”

A solemn hush descends on the room as everyone takes a moment to consider his words. But I’m focused on the words he failed to speak.

He’s one of us now.

His celestial pass, along with his celestial powers, have been revoked.

Which means there’s no one left to guide me.

No one left to step in and save us.

And, from what I’ve seen, no one should so much as attempt to spare me.

The Codex mimics the exact same story I read in the bones.

The glorious feather-crowned beast that dwells deep inside, is morphing into something else entirely.

Something wicked and foul.

Something capable of dark, malevolent deeds.

Everything I professed to believe just twelve hours ago has been flipped upside down.

Turns out, I’m not the man I thought I was destined to be.

Rather than a creature of light, the savior I imagined—I’m well on my way to becoming the very worst enemy mankind has yet seen.

When Shadow eclipses Sun—the Seer shall fall

It’s the takeaway line that says it all.

Somewhere within me stirs the darkness men fear. And it’s that very darkness that will eclipse the light of the world and cause Daire to fall.

The girl I’ve sworn to protect—the girl I’d give my very life for—I’m now destined to destroy.

The countdown has started.

It’s just a matter of time before my darkness is unleashed on the world.

Funny, how the last time I saw Cade he was unable to shift, yet now I’m destined to transform into something so heinous it’ll make his two-headed, snake-tongued beast resemble the punch line to a really bad joke.

Is it possible the beast that once lived inside him has found a new home in me?

One where it could flourish and grow and turn my light against me—against all of us?

“So what do we do now?” Auden asks. Those six simple words heralding the moment I’ve tried hard to avoid.

Hoped I could delay just a few minutes more.

It’s the reason I’ve been acting so sketchy and distant. I know exactly what comes next and I can’t bear to face it.

It may be inevitable, unavoidable, but it’s shredding my insides—pulverizing my heart. And worse, it’s turned me into the worst kind of liar.

Just this morning I swore to Daire that I would always be with her, would never leave her, that we’d get through this together—and now I’m about to break every vow.

Daire deserves better.

Better than me.

Turns out, we’re fated, she was right all along.

Only instead of being fated to love her—to forge a life together—I’m fated to kill her.

And yet, while a part of me still manages to thrive, I owe it to Daire to pull myself together and handle this better. From the moment I arrived I’ve been shutting her out. Immersed in the inner turmoil of trying to figure out the best way to say goodbye to the one person I can’t imagine ever living without.

Instead of being up front, finding the right words to tell her myself, I let the prophecy do the job for me, state what I couldn’t. A cowardly act I need to redeem.

I take a moment to gather my courage, my thoughts, then I rise to my feet and address my friends first. “Just to be clear, the Shadow the prophecy speaks of is me. I witnessed the same prediction in a bone-reading ritual earlier today. Despite my normal appearance, it won’t be much longer before the beast completely takes over. And from what I’ve seen, there will be no way to stop it, much less control it. So, for your safety and well-being, I’m leaving now and I won’t be returning.”

Lita gasps, clasps a hand to her mouth.

As Xotichl seeks comfort in Auden.

Only Axel nods his consent. Only Axel truly understands.

While Daire looks a lot like she did when she came to me in the dreams—a beautiful girl trusting me to do the right thing.

I try to say more—want to say more—but the words just won’t come. So like the condemned man I am, I lumber for the front door, aware of Daire racing behind.

I reach for the handle, step onto the stoop. Wanting so badly to pull her into my arms, press my lips to hers, though no longer sure if I should. “When you first discovered I’d stolen a piece of Cade’s darkness, you wondered if it wasn’t a mistake—that maybe the darkness within was part of my fate. Looks like you were right.” My gaze roams over her beautiful features now blunted with pain. “I wish things were different. I wish I’d never—” Before I can finish, she presses a finger to my lips, halting the words.

“Don’t waste your wishes on a past we can’t change.” Her green eyes meet mine. “What matters now, is what we do next.”

The hope in her voice is like an arrow to my chest, piercing my heart. There’s no room for hope—not for someone like me. The beast inside negates all the good I once owned, and I need to convince her of that if it’s the last thing I do.

“Daire—you don’t know what I saw. It’s worse than you think. Worse than you could ever imagine.”

“Oh, don’t be so sure. I’ve had the dreams too. I’ve also had my heart slashed nearly in half by your twin. And, what I haven’t experienced firsthand, well, my morbid imagination can fill in the rest.” She cracks a brave smile, and I hold the image in my mind long after it fades. Wanting it to be the picture I’ll carry forever. After all that she’s been through, all that she faces ahead, it’s incredible the way her radiant spirit still manages to shine.

I will do whatever it takes to keep this girl safe.

Even if it means keeping her safe from me.

“Despite all evidence to the contrary—despite what the bones and the Codex claim—they will not succeed. I plan to win, and I plan to win big. I won’t go down easily, and I certainly won’t go down alone. I will drag Cade Richter right along with me if it comes to that.” Her chin is determined, her gaze resolute. But her voice trembles ever so slightly, betraying the deeply rooted uncertainty that lurks behind every word.

Though I know I shouldn’t do it—though I know I should go quickly, quietly—I can’t resist reaching toward her one final time. My fingers thrumming with warmth the moment they meet her sweet flesh and I cup her face in my hands.

It was only this morning when I reveled in the surety of being lucky enough to love her forever. And now, the future I’d dreamed of is gone, just like that.

Once again, fate gets the last laugh.

“I meant what I said earlier.”

She tilts her head, shoots me a curious look. The weight of her gaze meeting mine sparking a small flicker inside the abyss where my soul used to shine.

Won’t be long before the beast eclipses that too.

“You said a lot of things this morning,” she says. “Things it seems you no longer believe.” Her face darkens, as though she can already see the shift occurring within me.

And I can’t leave her like that. Can’t end us this way. So I go on to say, “When I said that someday we’d live together. Build a future together. Live a normal life together—I meant it. I still want that.”

She places her hand over mine, entwining our fingers until they’re laced nice and tight. “I’m not sure I was ever meant for a normal life.” She blinks. Rubs her lips together. The usual signs of my girl refusing to cry. “But that doesn’t stop me from dreaming of one with you. Just the two of us growing old together, enjoying the kind of ordinary moments normal people are lucky enough to take for granted. We can have that, Dace. We will have that. I won’t give up on us. I won’t let you go.”

“Daire—” I’m shocked by her words. I thought I made myself clear. I thought she understood. With me she’s in danger. Without me, she’s . . . well, while not exactly safe, she stands a much better chance of surviving.

“Yes, I read the prophecy.” Her voice is hurried, her face tense. “And yes, I heard everything you relayed about reading the bones. But I also know this—you were right this morning when you said that evil is no match for love. I could literally feel the truth in your words. I admit, at the time, I did what I could to deflect them, but only because I thought I needed to remain in warrior mode in order to win. I was sure that my arsenal of tricks had no room for such soft, fuzzy sentiments. But once I had a chance to really stop and reflect, I realized there’s not a Seeker in the Santos family tree that didn’t act from the heart. And while they may have failed at keeping the Richters permanently contained, that doesn’t mean I can’t succeed where they failed. It doesn’t mean I can’t honor my heart, keep you by my side, and take the Richters down once and for all, because that’s exactly what I plan to do. I have every intention of winning, and I plan to do so with you by my side. There’s no reason that with the two of us working together, we can’t fight this thing. Maybe you can even use the beast to help me defeat them.”

Her brilliant green eyes blaze with conviction, clearly she believes every word. The sarcasm and cynicism from the morning eclipsed by her love for me.

I press my thumbs to her cheekbones, smooth them across her soft, smooth skin. The feel of her causing an unbearable ache to stream through my body, as the beast thrums and pulsates within. His constant hum a bitter reminder of how after tonight, I’ll never be this close to her again.

“Turns out I was wrong,” I say, my voice tight, choked, on the verge of breaking. “There is something stronger than love, something that’s ready, able, and all too willing to conquer us both—and it lives inside me. Try as I might, I can’t control it, Daire. The beast has its own life force, its own agenda, and it won’t be long until it completely overwhelms me. I need you to believe me when I say that you will all be better off without me.”

Despite my warnings, she remains undeterred. “Fine. I hear you,” she says. “But that doesn’t mean I have to go along with your plan. You can say goodbye to our friends, but you can’t say goodbye to me. I won’t give up on us, Dace. Not now, not ever.”

Her eyes find mine and we hold the look much longer than we should. Reluctant to relinquish the cache of dreams that, thanks to fate, we’ll never get a chance to experience.

She’s made her vow, and I’ve made mine—both of us led by our hearts. When I swore I would do whatever it took to save her, I meant every word. And as hard as this moment is, the saving starts now. The longer I stay, the more I risk putting her in harm’s way.

I fold her hands in mine, pressing for one, sweet, brief moment before I release her for good and my arms fall cold and alien to my sides. “I left a bag by my place on the couch. I purposely left it there because I want you to have what’s inside. I also want you to show Axel, Lita, Auden, and Xotichl how to use it. I want you to train them until they’re proficient. And, when the time comes, I want you to give them firm instructions to use it on me.” She starts to protest, but this time, it’s my turn to hush her. “No hesitations. No second guesses. From what I’ve seen, that time will come, and I want you all to be ready when it does.”

We’ve come to an impasse, with me determined to leave, and her determined to save me. And as hard as it is, it’s my job to see this thing through.

Without another word, I lower my head and press my lips gently to hers. Hoping the kiss will convey what words can’t—my undying love—my deepest regrets. Then I pull away just as quickly and hurry down the path, resisting the urge to look back.

FOURTEEN

DAIRE

I press my back against the door, relying on it for support as I watch Dace cross the stone-and-gravel path, make his way through the gate, and disappear from my life. And despite a house full of friends, the truth is, I’ve never felt so alone.

First my abuela. Now Dace.

I’m not sure how much more I can take.

That’s the thing about loss—no matter how often one experiences it, it never gets any easier.

And yet, this is nothing like losing my abuela. While my grandmother has left the physical world, Dace is still firmly entrenched right here within it. As long as he remains among the living, I won’t relinquish the dream of a future together.

Where there’s life, there’s hope. And despite what he says, I’m determined to get through this.

It’s just like I told him, Seekers have always worked from the heart—and I see no reason to change that.

I take a moment to compose myself, run a hand through my hair, and dry my tears with the back of my hand. Then I head inside and face my friends, and hoping to hide the pain of what I’ve just gone through, I keep it nonchalant when I say, “While I’m still up for pizza, I think the movies might have to wait.”

Collectively, they stare at me, until Axel is the first to speak. “Daire, is Dace okay?”

I nod. Feign a brighter look than I thought I was capable of.

“And you? You okay too?” Xotichl leans forward, studies me intently.

I take a moment to look at each of them, ensuring I have their full attention. “I am. I’m better than okay. And you know why?”

Lita groans loudly, paces before the giant rock jutting boldly from the middle of the wall. “Daire—you don’t have to pretend to be strong on our account.” She shoots me a knowing look. “We know perfectly well what just happened out there. After saying goodbye to us, Dace proceeded to say goodbye to you and break your heart. You gotta be dying inside and it’s okay to show it. We’re your friends, you don’t ever have to hide your feelings from us.”

I shake my head and dismiss the thought with an impatient wave of my hand. There’s no point in indulging my heartbreak. Not when I have every intention of getting Dace back.

“Don’t blame Dace,” I say. “He did what he thought was right. He’s only trying to protect us.”

“Protect us from himself ?” Auden cuts in, clearly struggling to grow used to the idea of Dace being dangerous. “Because deep down inside he’s not what he appears to be?”

I avert my gaze, reach for the fresh glass of iced tea they poured for me. Hoping they don’t notice the way my hand trembles as I bring the glass to my lips.

“Daire, what’s going on here?” Lita settles against the rock with her arms folded defiantly across her chest. “You’re taking this way too calmly. Is there something you’re not telling us? Because in my admittedly limited experience, prophecies are rarely wrong, and this particular prophecy is about as bad as they come.”

I place my glass on the table, indulging a moment’s delay before I say, “You’re right, prophecies are rarely wrong.” Lita nods, seemingly satisfied to see we’re in agreement. “But that doesn’t mean they’re infallible.” Her eyes narrow, her lips tighten. “Destiny really can be shaped by free will, and that’s exactly what I intend to do.”

“Meaning?” Xotichl shoots me a concerned look.

“Meaning that Dace’s absence is temporary.” An uncomfortable hush falls over the room as my gaze moves among them. Lita is the first to react.

She jabs a thumb toward the Codex, not one bit convinced. “Did you not read what I read? You’re doomed. And because of that, the rest of us are doomed too. Yeah, I tried to put on a happy face earlier, tried to pretend it wasn’t true, but facts are facts, Daire. And the fact is that Dace is destined to destroy us all, starting with you. As much as I’ve grown to like him, now that I know what I know, I’m really not up for sharing a pizza with him. And if you insist on bringing him around, then . . .”

She shifts uncomfortably, unwilling to finish the thought, though it’s not like she needs to. The silence that follows when no one jumps in to defend Dace, tells me they’re all in agreement.

While Dace may have succeeded in scaring them, he hasn’t scared me. I know I can help him exorcise the beast. At the very least, I have to try.

“So that’s it? We just turn our backs on him? We just run away the moment he needs us the most?”

“Daire—he’s beyond our help! He’s—” Before Lita can continue, Axel moves to her side, his presence enough to silence her. Still, I can’t help but notice how he fails to come to Dace’s defense, seemingly content to add no dissent.

“Listen,” I say, exerting great effort to remain calm and on point. Getting upset will only give them further reason to doubt me and with the way things are going, I can’t take the risk. “I understand how you feel. Really, I do. But here’s the thing, here’s what you don’t know: We can and will win this. But not if we continue arguing, taking sides, and accepting defeat before we’ve had a chance to get started. The only way we can win is by intending to win.” And possibly with another idea that I’m not quite ready to share . . .

“Is it really that easy?” Auden strives to keep his tone light, but his skeptical expression betrays him. “I’m sorry to say it, Daire, but I’m with Lita. Dace is dangerous, and what you’re offering sounds a little too woo-woo to effectively go against the beast he described.”

“I don’t expect any of this to be easy, but when has that ever stopped us from trying?” They all look at each other, but I can’t help but notice how they avoid looking at me.

“Daire, you need to understand that you make it nearly impossible for us to trust that you care about our safety when you insist that Dace can be rehabilitated. He told us point-blank that it was too late. That it wasn’t his to control. And, seeing as how it’s happening to him, I think he just might be the authority on the topic.”

I look from Xotichl to Axel, willing him to chime in. I can understand my friends’ unease, but I thought for sure Axel would be on my side.

“You too, Axel?” I fix my gaze on his. “Just this morning you said intent was magick’s most important ingredient—that belief was the spine of intent. Did you believe what you said, or were you just humoring me?” His eyes meet mine but his mood is impossible to read. “Are you willing to stand behind your words, or have you changed your mind? And Lita—” I switch my focus to her. “What about when you said that I didn’t have to go it alone? That you were all willing to help? Is that no longer true? Because it’s really starting to feel like you’re all standing on the sidelines shouting for the kill, when I’m the one in the arena—I’m the one fighting the fight—which means I just might have a better perspective than you.”

Lita flinches, drops her gaze to her feet, as Axel pushes away from the wall and swipes a hand through his halo of curls. Looking from Lita, to Xotichl, to Auden, then finally to me, he says, “I’m here for you, Daire. But, I guess there are limits. If it comes down to it, I won’t hesitate to save all of you over Dace and I think we’re all hoping we could get that same assurance from you.”

They nod in unison, and I take a moment before I reply. “I assure you, that if it comes down to making that choice, your safety will be my first priority. But it’s really a moot point, since it will never come to that.”

“Not exactly the reassurance I was hoping for.” Lita scowls.

“Well, it’s the best I can do. Which means we’ll just have to call a truce on this one and agree to disagree because I’m not going to lie to you. So, that said, I was hoping we could put this behind us and move on. We have a battle ahead and we need to prepare.” I turn my attention to Axel, motioning for him to follow when I say, “I need your help in the bedroom.”

“Uh—should I be worried?” Lita feigns a look of mock concern that soon shifts to curiosity when we return with a beautifully carved, hand-painted wooden trunk balanced between us. “What is that?” She leans in to get a better look.

“Think of it as my tool chest.” I crack a smile. “Paloma gave it to me, along with all the tools I keep locked inside.”

“Tools of the Light Worker trade?” Auden says. He’s the least initiated among us, but that’s about to change.

“Something like that.” I spin the wheel of the combination lock I placed there shortly after Paloma passed on. How silly it seems now in light of all that’s just happened. Like this simple, metal lock could ever keep a Richter at bay.

Then again, a Richter would never have the slightest interest in the tools I’ve stashed here.

And that just may turn out to be one of my biggest strengths.

In every encounter with Cade, every time he seemed to get the upper hand, he always made sure to mock the wisdom of my ancestors—my collection of magickal talismans. The pouch I wear at my neck—the small double-edged knife imbued with Valentina’s essence—it’s all a big joke to him.

Cade relies solely on his devious mind, his abyss of a soul, and the snake-tongued monster residing within. Though last I saw, the beast had abandoned him. Unlike my tools which have never once failed me.

Where failure’s concerned, I’ve only failed myself.

But no more.

I kneel before the trunk and raise the lid. Aware of my friends gathering closer, as I remove the soft, hand-woven blanket I placed on top, then set the tools upon it, one by one.

“Oh,” Lita murmurs, her voice, like her face, betraying her disappointment. “I thought there’d be cool stuff. I thought you’d hidden an arsenal in there.”

“Make no mistake, in the right hands, this is an arsenal.” I shove the bag Dace left well out of the way. I don’t have to look to know what’s inside. It’s his blowgun and darts, but there’s no way I’ll use it on them. And, with my friends all too willing to turn on him, they don’t need to know it exists. Then after arranging the pieces so the rawhide rattle on the long wooden stick lies beside the large drum bearing the face of a purple-eyed raven, I place the three feathers that came from a swan, a raven, and an eagle all in a row, and finish by adding the pendulum with the small chunk of amethyst attached to its end.

“Grab some pizza,” I say. “Refill your drinks, and get comfortable. I’m going to teach you how to use everything here. And it’s probably going to take the better part of the night.”

FIFTEEN

LITA

“I feel so guilty.” I bite my lip and frown at the overcrowded rack of dresses before me.

“Why? What’d you do now?”

I slew my gaze toward Xotichl. “What do you mean, ‘what did I do now’?”

“Well, I figure if you’re feeling guilty, there must be a reason.”

“Sheesh.” I roll my eyes, shake my head, but it’s really more for dramatic effect, my heart isn’t in it. “Will I ever live down my diva past?”

“Not likely.” Xotichl inches her purple glasses up the bridge of her nose with the tip of her finger.

“Anyway, I didn’t exactly do anything. The reason I feel guilty is because everything around us is either falling apart, on the verge of falling apart, or, according to the Codex, destined to fall apart. And yet, despite the forecast of gloom and doom with a ninety-nine percent chance of complete world annihilation, deep down inside I’m still bursting with the absolute euphoria of unbounded happiness, and I know it’s not right.”

“That’s what love does.” Xotichl bobs her head as though listening to a song only she can hear. Choosing a dress from the rack, she scrutinizes it for a handful of seconds, only to exchange it for another, and then reject that as well. “Love is irrational. Nonsensical. Makes you feel things that seem wildly inappropriate when you consider the surrounding circumstances. And yet, you shouldn’t ever question it, shouldn’t ever doubt it. You should just accept it for the gift that it is.” She pushes away from the rack and scans the rest of the shop.

“I guess . . .” I sigh, unwilling to concede quite so easily. “Still, it just seems so wrong to feel so good when everything around me is going to hell. It’s like, champagne corks popping in here.” I thump my hand against my chest. “And the raging river of Hades out there.” I jab my thumb toward the general direction of the green exit sign. “Not to mention how I’m pretty sure we’re starting to grate on Daire’s nerves.”

“Starting?” Xotichl throws her head back and laughs like it’s the funniest joke I’ve told all year. “I’m pretty sure her nerves were grated from the first night you and Axel laid eyes on each other.”

“I knew it!” Feeling suddenly vindicated to confirm what I suspected all along, I lean toward her, grab her by the arm, and say, “You felt it too?” We’ve never had this discussion, and I’m eager to dissect it down to the smallest bit of minutiae.

“Felt it? I saw it.” She chooses another dress and holds it against her. But it’s way too much fabric and color for her petite frame, and she rejects it well before I can open my mouth to dissuade her.

“But why? Why do you think she’s so against us?” I may be pressing it, but I’m determined to continue this topic until it’s exhausted. “After all Axel’s done for her—whisking her off to the Upperworld and saving her life—after all I’ve been through—being traumatized by having my perception altered by the Richters for the better part of my life—why can’t she just be happy for us? Why can’t she support us like we support her and Dace?”

“Because it’s unnatural.”

The voice comes from behind and we turn to find Cade Richter looking as smug, slick, and self-assured as ever. Dressed in a pair of faded jeans, a white V-neck tee that clings to his shoulders, chest, and six-pack abs, displaying them to maximum impact, and brown leather flip-flops gracing his feet. Appearing as though he didn’t run into a burning building with big, gaping knife wounds in his arm and his side just six months earlier.

No matter how many times I rehearsed this moment in my head, always envisioning me playing it cool while Cade cowered under the glare of my complete and total authority, in real life, it plays just the opposite. With me gasping and jerking so spasmodically, I nearly knock Xotichl over.

“Not to mention it’s bound to fail.” Cade’s icy-blue eyes bore deep into mine, and try as I might, I can’t break the look. “Guy like Axel has no place here. He doesn’t belong in our world. Sorry to be the one to break it to you, Lita, but it seems Santos doesn’t have the guts to tell you what we both know is true. Your relationship was dead long before it began.”

I stand there stupidly, unable to move, unable to speak. And though I’m waiting for Xotichl to step in and speak for me, turns out, she’s as frozen as I am.

“Is that supposed to be a threat?” I finally manage. Unfortunately, it’s the best I can manage. Still, I reach for Xotichl’s arm and take a step back, pulling her along with me.

“Nope.” Cade lifts his shoulders, swipes a hand through his hair. Holding it for a moment before he releases it and his bangs swoop into his eyes. One of his many signature moves. “Not a threat. Not even a warning. Just a fact, plain and true.”

I roll my eyes. Huff under my breath. But the effort is forced, and he knows it as well as I do. “And I suppose next you’ll be offering to console me when this so-called dead end occurs?” I fold my arms across my chest in an attempt to fend off the strange pull of his energy. Disgusted to find that after all he’s put me through, after everything I know about him, I still find myself drawn to him.

“Wrong again.” He raises a grin, reaches into his pocket, and lights a cigarette, despite the strictly enforced no-smoking policy. “You may be surprised to hear this, but I’ve moved on. A lot’s changed in the last six months. And as irresistible as you think you are, turns out, I’m no longer into you.”

I narrow my gaze, try to read between the words. Telling myself I should be relieved, happy to be released from the burden of his interest. And while part of me is indeed happy, there’s another part that feels just the opposite. Sort of deflated, bereft.

“About your little glowing man, you need to know—”

“Axel. His name is Axel. And he doesn’t glow.” I scowl. But more at myself than him. I have no idea why I continue to engage him. We should’ve walked away the second we saw him. And yet, here I am, blabbering like a fool, while Xotichl stands gaping beside me.

“He lost his glow?” Cade quirks a brow, takes a deep drag on his cigarette. Then turns his head to the side to give us a better view of his perfect profile as he blows a series of smoke rings. “That’s too bad. Only thing he had going for him so far as I could see.”

“Whatever. We’re done here.” I start to push away, but he reaches toward me, binds my arm with his fist.

“Just remember this, Lita—when you and Axel go up in flames—and make no mistake, you will—don’t forget you heard it here first. It’s a warning you need to take seriously. Consider it my last gift to you.”

“And why would you give me a gift if you’re so over me, like you claim?”

“What can I say? I’m a sentimental guy.” He lifts his shoulders, discards his cigarette on the floor where it burns a hole in the carpet. “We share a good bit of history. Had some fun times. I figure it’s the least I can do.”

“What’re you really doing here? What do you want?” Xotichl speaks for the first time since he arrived.

“Same thing you want.” The words are mumbled as he divides his attention between us and his chiming cell phone. “Something to wear to the Rabbit Hole bash. I’m assuming you received the invite?” He returns to his phone with a sardonic grin.

“Oh yeah, we got it.” Xotichl scowls. “The dead raven was a really nice touch.” She places her hand on her hips and glares, but the effect is wasted on him. “So, I get that it’s a ball, but are you really planning on wearing a dress?”

He lifts his chin, shoots her a blank look.

“In case you haven’t noticed, you’re shopping in the women’s department. Men’s is on the ground floor. Or perhaps you’re not even shopping? Perhaps you’re just doing a really bad job of stalking?”

He makes a face at his phone, then returns his focus to us. “Don’t flatter yourself, flower. I have no interest in your pedestrian activities. If you must know, I’m shopping for my date. But, as it turns out, this place isn’t nearly classy enough. A special girl deserves a special dress, no?”

“How special could she be, if she’s dating you?” Xotichl says, momentarily forgetting that I dated Cade off and on since elementary school. But I’m quick to forgive her the insult.

Cade grins. “Far more special than you could imagine.”

“Who is she?” I ask, finally finding my voice. “Anyone we know?” I fight to keep my face still, my expression neutral, though I’m unable to do anything about the way my heart palpitates in my chest.

“I reckon you do know her. After all, Enchantment’s a small town.” He gives me a thorough once-over, allowing a few beats to pass before he says, “A small town with a long memory as it turns out—or maybe that’s just me?”

His eyebrow shoots up, and I have no idea how to reply. Is he referring to the black onyx they’re using to fortify the new building? Is it truly going to hold the ghostly memories and black deeds of Richters past?

“Care to elaborate?” Xotichl says, the words carrying a surprising edge.

“Not really.” The smile he shoots her is grim. “Let’s just say this is destined to be no ordinary party.”

“The last party you threw, the club exploded and Phyre and Suriel Youngblood died, how do you plan to top that?”

“Turns out Phyre’s little pyrotechnic display was merely the pre-show. Each step leads to the next, as they say.”

His phone chimes again, claiming his attention.

“Anyway, nice catching up.” He turns on his heel, flashes the back of his hand.

“For you maybe.” Xotichl folds her arms defiantly over her chest, stiffening when he pauses, glances over his shoulder, and levels his focus on her.

“Careful there, little one. You’re venturing into territory that’s way out of your league.”

His face darkens, prompting me to take a step forward, insert myself firmly between them. Fully intending to defend her should it come to that, but the sight of me standing before him only causes him to laugh.

“Save it, Lita. Xotichl doesn’t need a bodyguard. Girl’s got her sight back. She can handle herself. Or at least that’s what she thinks. Turns out, there’s a whole lot you two don’t know, but I’ve done my good deed for the day. You’ll get no more from me.”

Xotichl fidgets with her glasses, struggles to stand her ground, though it’s clear that she’s shaken.

We both are.

The two of us unable to do anything more than remain rooted in place, long after Cade’s sauntered away.

SIXTEEN

XOTICHL

“Are you sure we should do this?” My fingers clasp hard to the edge of my seat as Lita speeds into a turn so quickly I swear the car tilts on two wheels.

“How can we not do this? We owe it to Daire, right?” Her eyes find mine, lingering too long for my comfort. At these speeds, I prefer she focus on the road and not me.

“I’m sure he’s onto us,” I say, the words spilling forth in a shrieky high pitch that startles me as much as it does her.

This isn’t like me. I’m usually the adventurous one. First in line to push all the boundaries.

Then again, ever since my sight returned, I’m not my usual self. It’s like I’ve been thrust into an upside-down, out-of-balance world. Left adrift in a turbulent sea with absolutely no hope of ever reaching the shore.

“I’m absolutely positive he’s onto us.” Lita clasps the wheel so tightly her knuckles blanch white. “In case you haven’t noticed, he’s using his blinkers and slowing his pace when he gets too far ahead. He’s definitely leading us somewhere. Not to mention, how he waited the full ten minutes it took us to get our act together and go after him.” “Speaking of . . . what the heck happened in there?”

“What do you mean? We were startled, that’s all.” She nods as though she wants to believe it, but the edge in her voice says otherwise.

“Yeah, we were startled, no doubt. Last place I expected to see Cade Richter was in the dress department, and yet, there’s no denying we handled it badly.”

Lita’s shoulders sink in defeat. “I’m ashamed to admit it, but that was kind of a disaster. I have no idea what came over me. It’s like I had to keep reminding myself of all the reasons I hated him, and yet, I still found myself drawn to him.” She rubs a hand over her arm, shuddering at the memory.

“And I could barely speak.” I roll my eyes at the memory. “It’s like my whole body was frozen and only my mind was still working. Inside my head, I was raging with all the things I wanted to say. I had a whole slew of mocking statements and snarky comebacks ready to go—and yet, all I could do was stand there and gape. It’s like I’d been robbed of my will. Like I was trapped in a body that refused to obey.”

Lita shoots me a worried look, then returns her focus to the road, accelerating so hard my shoulders press into the seat.

“Did he just . . . wave?” I shift my gaze between Lita beside me and Cade’s black, four-wheel drive racing ahead.

“He did indeed.” Her lips sneak into a grin as she shimmies a little straighter in her seat, as though this just became fun.

“So, aren’t we just falling into his trap then?”

“It’s not a trap.” The nod that follows is insistent, though once again, her voice fails to convince. “Okay, maybe it is a trap,” she relents. “I mean, there’s no doubt he’s purposely luring us somewhere. But it’s not a trap like you think.”

“That is not one bit comforting.” I gaze out the side window and frown. Contemplating which would be worse—swinging the door wide open and throwing myself free of her car—or actually going through with her plan. It’s a toss-up.

“There’s one crucial thing you seem to have forgotten: Cade Richter is a master manipulator. He loves his little games. He practically lives for them.”

“Um, yeah. That’s pretty much what I was getting at. Hence the fear of us being lured into a trap. His little games tend to get violent. Ask Daire.”

Lita shakes her head and leans forward, peering through the dust-covered windshield. “Trust me, Xotichl, I know this guy like the back of my hair. He’s not going to harm us. He just wants us to see whatever it is that he wants us to see so we can report back to Daire.”

“Hand.” I peer into the side rearview mirror, watching swirls of dirt and tumbleweeds dance in our wake.

“What?” Lita squints, looking at me for so long I jab a finger toward the windshield, urging her to watch the road and not me.

“The expression is, I know him like the back of my hand. Please, watch where you’re going!”

“And what did I say?”

“You said hair.”

“Seriously, Xotichl?” She frowns, focuses back on the road, which buys me a moment of relief before she returns to me. “That’s the take away from everything I just said? What’s gotten into you? You’re acting all skittish and weird. I’ve never seen you so fearful. You’re always the one assuring me. Remember when you made me spy on Suriel Youngblood?”

I cringe at the memory. Spying on the snake-wrangling, doomsayer preacher was one of my worst ideas ever. Maybe the changes I’m experiencing are a good thing. Now that I can see the world around me, maybe I’m just now, for the very first time, understanding how dangerous it can be. Maybe this new, fearful Xotichl is an improvement over the former, impulsive Xotichl I used to be.

“Trust me, Suriel Youngblood is not someone I’ll easily forget. And, just so you know, I regretted that decision pretty much the second we arrived.”

“Well, you won’t regret this.” Lita hardens her jaw, lifts her fingers for a moment, only to lower them back to the wheel with a grip that’s twice as tight. “And, if we do end up regretting it, well at least we’ll have something to talk about, right?”

“Yes. At least we’ll have that. I’m always on the lookout for a good icebreaker.” I hold hard to the edge of my seat as her car shakes and judders over the deeply rutted dirt road, wondering if I should just close my eyes until it’s over.

“We’re not going to die, Xotichl. Or at least not today. Not from Cade.”

“How can you be so sure?” I sneak a lid open to better see her. “After all, he’s the one who killed Paloma.”

“He had a different agenda with Paloma. It was a Coyote versus Seeker thing. It was mostly about hurting Daire. Making her feel powerless and alone in the world. And while there’s no doubt he succeeded, it’s different with me. He won’t try to harm me. And, I’m afraid you’re just going to have to take my word for it.”

“You don’t seriously think he’s still madly in love with you, do you? Because that’s the one thing I was sure he wasn’t bluffing about.”

Lita laughs, lifts a hand to her hair and fluffs up the ends. “Please, I’m not stupid. I don’t think Cade Richter was ever madly in love with me. Or even marginally in love with me, for that matter. I don’t think he even knows what love is. I know I didn’t—not until I met Axel, anyway. What I do know is that Cade’s pride and ego are deeply offended by how quickly I moved on. And, because of it, I’m pretty sure he’d like to keep me around long enough to make me regret my choice to leave him, which of course, I never will. How could I? With Axel, I have everything. I finally know what real love is and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.” She glances at me, eyes narrowing when she reads the skeptical look on my face. “Didn’t you catch the way Cade made sure to mention his date? ‘I’m shopping for a dress for my date. This place isn’t classy enough for my date.’” She rolls her eyes. “Whatever Cade’s up to, you can bet it’s well planned. He leaves nothing to chance. Always has an agenda, which we’ll learn soon enough. The real question is, why are you so scared? What’s going on with you? Why don’t you just tune in to the energy of the situation like you usually do? Surely that’ll convince you that this will all turn out right.”

I frown, unsure how to tell her how untethered I feel. That my newly restored vision seems to be the only tangible thing I can count on. So I just end up blurting the truth. “I can’t really read energy in the way that I used to.”

She looks at me. Doing her best to hide her alarm. “You’re probably still getting used to your sight though, right? You know, like you’re learning to see through your eyes instead of your blind sight. I’m sure it’ll come back.”

“But what if it doesn’t?” I clench my hands in my lap. There. I said it. Revealed my very worst fear that all the progress I made with the help of Paloma’s tutelage has taken a permanent sabbatical.

“It will.” She nods as though it’s already been decided, but I’m not so sure.

I used to know when someone was lying purely by the color of their words.

I used to know when dark energies were lurking by the subtle shift in the atmosphere.

But now, it seems I’m as clueless as everyone.

Questioning my instincts.

Second-guessing my gut.

“I don’t know . . . I guess I just—” I start to say I have a bad feeling about all of this, but the truth is, I don’t feel much of anything. There’s a big empty void in the place where my intuition once lived. “The truth is, I really, truly don’t know,” I finally say, not wanting to lie. “But it just feels . . . wrong. Following Cade—going to the masquerade ball—none of it sits well inside.”

I swivel toward Lita, only to find she’s already moved on. Already returned her focus to chasing Cade’s truck.

I fold my hands in my lap and try to keep calm. Try to find the place of quiet stillness like Paloma once taught me.

She always said the silence is where my strength lies. That when I find myself anxious, uncertain, or feeling unsettled, I should allow my breath to slow and my thoughts to quiet, so a space can open up for the answers to be revealed. And though it’s never failed me in the past, there’s no denying it’s failing me now.

The silence bears the opposite effect. Leaving me so jumbled and edgy, I turn to the window and press my fingertips hard to the glass in an attempt to steady myself.

Normally I’d be able to read the energy emitted by every run-down adobe we pass, but not anymore.

Still, I grit my teeth and try again, refusing to give up so easily.

Only to shoot toward the dashboard when Lita slams the brakes hard, and says, “This is the last thing I expected to see.”

SEVENTEEN

DACE

Cade stops his truck in the middle of the street and lowers the driver’s side window to better see me. “When I got your text I was sure it was a joke.” He keeps one hand on the wheel, the engine idling.

“Not a joke, I assure you.” I lean against the door of the primer-grey, classic Mustang I’ve been slowly restoring. Arms loose by my sides, legs casually crossed at the ankles, in an attempt to appear open, easygoing, and harmless. In other words, the opposite of what I’m becoming.

“Well, that’s your fail.” He peers at me through a pair of dark sunglasses. Clueless to the fact that despite the tinted lenses, I can still see his eyes. I can see everything. He’s part of me, just as I’m part of him. “So, get to it already. What do you want? I’m busy.” He lifts his chin, checks his reflection in the rearview mirror. His usual smug, self-satisfied look deepening when he sees Lita parked a few feet away.

He thinks this scene is his to control.

Thinks he’s the one who led them here so he could publicly out me as some sort of traitor.

Little does he know I planned the whole thing.

This is no courtesy call.

He has no idea just how big of a traitor I’ll turn out to be.

In the end, the beast may consume me, but not before I’ve defeated every last one of them.

“We need to talk.” I push away from my car and crick my neck toward the large adobe estate nestled behind the large wrought-iron gates.

“You? In my house?” He works his tongue against the side of his cheek and hocks a wad of spit that lands just shy of my shoe. A feeble attempt to intimidate I choose to ignore. “Hate to break it to you, bro, but this is the closest you’ll get. You’re not fit to enter. You’re not one of us. Never will be.”

“You sure about that?” I push my sunglasses high on my forehead and return his look with red glowing eyes.

He laughs. Does his best to appear jaded and unimpressed. But I can see beyond the façade and he’s even more shaken than I originally bargained for.

“That it? That all you got?” He shakes his head, swipes a hand through his hair. “Maybe you should do that again so Xotichl and Lita can see. Unlike me, they tend to scare easily.”

He jabs a thumb toward the girls, but I refuse to look. The mere sight of them is enough to conjure a thousand memories of Daire, and I can’t afford to be distracted by thoughts of a girl I can no longer have.

He places his other hand on the wheel, shifts into drive, but I can’t let him go, not until I get what I came for.

I step forward, moving to stop him as he cranks the wheel hard and noses the truck toward the gate. Sparing me a dismissive glance, he says, “It’s like I already said, you can’t come in. You can’t ever come in. If you were smart, which clearly you aren’t, but if you were, you would’ve known that. You wouldn’t have wasted your time coming here.”

The gates swing open as Cade eases onto the drive, but I won’t be daunted. I will chase him to the front door if that’s what it takes.

“I want my job back.” I move alongside him.

He brakes, peering at me with a sardonic grin that widens his cheeks. “Not a chance.”

“Fine.” I shrug, as though it’s no big deal either way. It isn’t. I have every intention of getting my way. “Just thought I’d appeal to you first, since I heard you were promoted to manager. But, I guess I’ll go straight to Leandro instead.”

“Feel free.” Cade laughs, starts to raise the window between us.

“Leandro won’t hesitate to reinstate me. Hell, he begged me to come back last time I spoke with him on New Year’s Eve. Might make you look even worse in his eyes when I tell him you rejected me. Surely he realizes it’s mostly your fault the Rabbit Hole blew. Phyre was just a normal girl, with no real powers to speak of, and still you couldn’t stop her from endangering your entire family. Just like you can’t seem to stop Daire from thwarting your every move.”

His features sharpen, his eyes darken, but he makes no further attempt to drive on.

“Something to think about.” I bump the driver’s side door and I start to turn away. Acting as though it’s an afterthought when I turn back to say, “Oh, and by the way, in case you’ve forgotten, you owe me your life.”

“Is that what you think?” He leans out the driver’s side window and frowns.

“That’s what I know, and you know it too.”

“You saved me to save yourself.” He narrows his gaze, tries to look menacing, but comes nowhere close to succeeding.

“Did I look like I needed saving?”

He looks me over. Works his jaw. The seconds tick past.

“Face it, Cade, you’re not what you used to be. Hell, you can’t even shift into your pathetic snake-tongued beast. You’re no threat to me.”

“What’re you after?” His voice is gruff, his features sharpen again, but it’s the most he’s capable of and I can’t help but snicker in the face of it.

“Ultimately—I’m after what’s rightfully mine. The house, the town, all of it—my legacy as Leandro’s son. But for now, I’ll start with my job. Tell Leandro you had to convince me if you want. Tell him it’s your way to keep an eye on me. I don’t care how you sell it, just sell it. Though you might have trouble convincing him of anything. I think we all know he’s beginning to doubt you. You two are on shaky ground, so here’s your chance to prove that you can handle the role of both manager and next in line for Leandro’s throne.”

“And Daire?”

I narrow my gaze. Not liking the sound of her name on his lips. Especially the way that he said it, with an unmistakable twinge of longing in his tone.

“What about her?” I hold myself still, aware of the beast beginning to rumble and stir, and it takes all of my will to contain it. Won’t be long until he makes himself known. But now is not the time. Not even close.

“Does the Seeker know you’re here?” He cocks his head, shoots me a look of contempt.

“You think I have to ask permission to visit my ancestral home?” He glares in response, and I take it as my cue to exit. “Tell Leandro I’ll report for work first thing tomorrow.”

“Never gonna happen,” he calls but I choose to ignore him. I just head for my car and give a quick wave to Lita and Xotichl, hoping they’ll do their parts and report back to Daire.

Tell her I was here—that it’s too late to stop me from meeting my destiny.

That I’ve already joined the other side and it’s in her best interests to stay far away.

Hoping they’ll succeed where I failed by convincing her to save herself, save them, and forget about me.

Then, without another look, I climb inside, gun the engine, and drive away.

EIGHTEEN

DAIRE

With my last client gone, I head into the den, surprised to find Chay sitting on the couch, reading a newspaper and waiting for me.

“How long have you been here?” I stand before the whirring fan blades and twist the ends of my ponytail into a bun I prop high on my head, enjoying the cool breeze on my neck.

“Long enough to feed Kachina, muck out her stall, and nearly finish this paper as a steady stream of clients paraded in and out.” He motions toward a glass of iced ginger tea he has waiting for me. “Ice is probably melted by now.”

I push away from the fan and move toward it, savoring the stream of cool liquid easing down my throat.

“How you holding up?” He folds his newspaper in half and tosses it onto the table to better focus on me, as I claim the opposite chair and take another sip of my tea.

Though the question is posed innocently enough, the part he failed to voice looms large between us.

How am I holding up now that I’m all on my own without Paloma to guide me?

It’s what they’re all wondering.

While my friends have provided much-needed comfort and support, sometimes I feel like Chay is the only one who truly understands how empty life feels now that she’s gone.

Paloma was his companion, his lover, his closest confidant, and best friend. There’s no doubt he misses her as much as I do.

I slip off a blue rubber flip-flop and prop a bare foot on the table. “Honestly?” My eyes meet his, finally able to admit to the truth I’ve kept buried inside for too long. “Between the gardening, the clients, and looking after me, I don’t know how she managed to keep up with it all, and make it look so darn effortless. I always feel two steps behind . . .” I sigh, gaze down at my hands. “She’s a hard act to follow.”

“But that’s just it. You’re not expected to follow.”

“Aren’t I?” I lift my gaze to his. “I’m the Seeker. I have a destiny—and a long list of duties to go along with it.”

Chay’s expression softens as he fingers the silver wolf’s head he wears at his wrist. “

No two Seekers are created the same. And, for what it’s worth, Paloma was once in your shoes. Struggling to find her way after her own mother passed on.”

I sit up a bit higher. Eager to know more about the story Paloma never shared. “I know so little about it. She rarely talked about those days.”

“Paloma didn’t like to dwell in the past.” His focus shifts from the wolf to the intricate silver eagle’s head ring on his finger.

I nod, knowing I probably shouldn’t dwell either. But now that he’s mentioned it, I can’t resist asking, “What was she like back in the day? How did you meet?”

His lips curl ever so slightly, as he tilts his head back and allows his mind to drift to the past. For a brief moment, I can imagine how he might’ve looked then. Tall, dark, and ruggedly handsome pretty much describes it.

“I feel like I’ve always known Paloma.” His voice is soft, as though savoring the memory. “She was a lot like you, actually. Beautiful. Strong. Capable. And woefully unsure of herself.” He cracks a smile, returns his gaze to mine. “But later, after she lost Alejandro and discovered she was pregnant with Django, the deeply rooted strength inherent in all Seekers began to shine through.”

“Is that when you fell in love with her?”

His gaze grows distant. “I fell in love with her long before that.”

“Did she know? Did you tell her?”

He grins in a way that creases his cheeks and causes a riot of wrinkles to fan around his eyes. “Oh, I’m sure she knew. It’s not like I was capable of playing it cool. Though I was just one of many. Most of us had a thing for Paloma back then. But I finished school early and went off to college, and while I was away she fell in love with Alejandro. So I resigned myself to being happy that she’d found someone worthy.”

I sit with that for a while, wondering if I could do the same for Dace. Be happy for him if he found someone else, someone worthy. While I’d like to think that I could, I’m pretty sure I’m just deluding myself. Seeing him happy with another girl would be a terrible burden I’m not sure I could bear.

“For those who are patient, life has a way of working out.” I meet his gaze, realizing too late he’d been observing my reverie. “Paloma and I shared many good years. I prefer to concentrate on the time spent together, rather than the time spent apart.”

“You said Paloma was unsure like me, but it’s hard to imagine her ever feeling that way. When did she make the switch? What was the one thing that instigated it?”

The question brings another smile to his face, though I can’t fathom why. “While I can’t pinpoint that in the way you’d like, I can say that confidence is usually the reward for taking the risk of being yourself.”

I drum my fingers against the armrests and take a moment to digest that.

Is it possible I’ve been so focused on being just like Paloma I lost sight of myself?

“No two people are alike—just as no two Seekers are alike. Paloma concentrated on her strengths and didn’t punish herself for her weaknesses.”

“So you’re saying I should follow that example?”

“There are worse examples.”

“But what if I don’t know what my strengths are? What if I feel so overwhelmed by trying to keep up with everything that—” I stop myself before I can dissolve into a full-blown whine. Switching tacks, I say, “I guess what I need is a cheat sheet.”

Chay throws his head back and laughs—a deep-bellied sound I’m glad to know he’s still capable of.

“You don’t need a cheat sheet.” He rises from the couch, motions for me to follow his lead. “Though I’m betting you’re in need of some dinner.”

Chay takes me to a restaurant just outside of town where he seems to know everyone.

“This is like dining with a celebrity,” I say, after the waitress has fawned over him and taken our orders. “And I should know, having dined with a few.”

“As the only veterinarian within a fifty-mile radius, you tend to meet a few people.” He spreads his paper napkin across his lap and I do the same. And a few moments later, when the waitress returns with two salads, I can’t help but grin.

“Since when is that your usual?” I stab a fork into a bed of dark, leafy greens. “You on a diet?”

“Never.” He lifts his fork to his mouth. “Just making more conscious choices, I guess. Looks like Paloma’s lectures managed to stick.”

We dig into our meals. The two of us happy to eat in a contented, comfortable silence, until Chay lowers his fork, dabs his mouth with his napkin, and says, “When was the last time you saw Dace?”

I push away from my plate and lean against the vinyl banquette. “Yesterday when he stopped by to say goodbye. I guess you know why.”

He spins the eagle ring around and around on his finger. His mouth downturned, gaze somber. “I’m sorry.”

I lift my shoulders in response, try to put on a brave face.

Eating with Chay in the out-of-the-way diner reminds me of the first day we met under similar circumstances. I was scared and uncertain, facing a future I couldn’t even fathom. And he was the wise counsel whose presence alone was enough to instill me with much-needed comfort. After all that we’ve been through, it’s nice to know that feeling still holds.

He studies me closely, trying to determine the difference between the truth of my feelings and the fiction of my actions. “You’re taking this well.”

“As well as I can.” My reply purposely vague. After seeing my friends’ reactions over my reluctance to steer clear of Dace, I’m a little nervous about approaching Chay.

He lowers his gaze, pulls his wallet from his pocket, and I realize I’m not ready to leave it this way.

“Though any advice would be greatly appreciated.”

He tosses a wad of bills on the table, and without hesitation, says, “Don’t lose your focus.”

I squint, unsure what he means.

“Don’t lose sight of what matters most.”

“Which is?”

“The people who rely on you to keep them safe from the Richters.”

I drop my gaze, having read between the lines. “In other words, don’t let my love for Dace—my fantasy that I alone can change him—tame him—slay the beast within and return him to the Dace I know and love—don’t let that get in the way of being the Seeker I was born to be. Is that what you’re saying?” I sigh, having expected this, but still disappointed to hear him echo the same sentiment as my friends.

My gaze meets his, finding the confirmation right there in his eyes. Also like my friends, his faith in me is faltering.

While I hesitate to question his wisdom—partly because he’s Chay, and I’ve always relied on his counsel—and partly because he read the bones just as clearly as Dace did—our opinions conflict.

“Chay, you once said that Paloma understood that great privilege comes with great responsibility. That she never dwelled on her tragedies, same way she didn’t gloat over her triumphs. She stayed steady, humble, and present, with one eye fixed on the horizon ahead . . .”

His eyes narrow, presumably remembering that night at Leftfoot’s, not so long ago.

“Well, that’s exactly the model I’m trying to follow. So, I guess what I’m trying to say is, I have every intention of doing the right thing by all of you—and that includes Dace.” My hands twist in my lap, unsure how he’ll react but it needs to be said. “Everyone’s urging me to give up on him, abandon him without a single look back. I can’t do that. I won’t do that.”

I search Chay’s face, but he’s guarded, hard to read. So I wait for several nerve-wracking seconds until he forms a reply. “While that sounds good in theory, question is, are you sure that’s the right thing to do?”

“It’s all I can do. There are no other options as far as I’m concerned.”

“Well, then you’ve made your choice.”

We exchange a long look that’s broken by the clatter of the busboy removing our plates and the sound of my cell phone chiming.

After taking a moment to read the message, I return to Chay and say, “What did you do with that tourmaline?”

He hunches forward, slides his elbows toward me, and meets my question with a wary gaze.

“I need it.”

His eyes grow hooded, his voice gruff. “Impossible. It’s not ready. It may never be ready.”

I shrug. “I still need it.”

“Daire, do you have any idea what you’re asking?” He rubs his lips together, shakes his head. “By giving you the tourmaline now, I’d be putting you at great risk. The curse Cade embedded runs deep. The hooks were the most intense Leftfoot and I have ever seen. It hasn’t been nearly long enough to be fully cleansed. We’re not even sure it can be regenerated.”

I pause for a moment, ensuring he’s finished, before I continue. “While I get what you’re saying, thing is, I’ve done a bit of my own research. Did you know that blue tourmalines are traditionally thought of as a shamanic stone? They’ve been used in ritual for centuries. Specifically for protection, but also to point the shaman or Seeker, as we’re now known, toward safety in times of trouble.”

“I’m aware of that. I’m also aware of the irony of Cade using that very stone against Paloma.”

“He thinks that’s the punchline, but it’s not even close.” I wave it away, eager to leave the past behind in favor of a future that’s mine for the taking. “Blue tourmalines are also used to activate the third eye, as they provide clarity, direction, and enhance intuition.”

Chay shoots me an impatient look. “Daire, what are you getting at?”

“I need it. I don’t care if it’s not ready. I need that stone now. As soon as you can get it to me. We’re running out of time.”

“I can’t do it. I won’t risk you falling victim to Cade.”

I lean toward him, look him right in the eye. While I regret having to take this approach, his reluctance to help leaves no other choice. “I’m sorry to say this, but if you won’t give it to me, I’ll get it myself. I know you mean well. I know you’re only looking out for me. But this is one risk I have to take. With or without your blessing.”

“Can I ask what this is about? And why the urgency?”

I relax into my seat, knowing I won. “I saw Marliz use her tourmaline ring to gain access to the Rabbit Hole. I also discovered that they’re enhancing the building with black onyx—making it stronger, more resilient, and ensuring the energy of their ancestry stays contained in those walls. They’re not building the same old Rabbit Hole—they’ve got a massive mystical makeover planned. The place is enchanted—barricaded and bound by magick. From what I saw, possession of one of their blue tourmalines is the only way in and I need to get in there before the party begins so I can locate the vortex. With a remodel that extensive, it won’t be easy to find.”

“I’ll get you another tourmaline, then. One that hasn’t been cursed.”

“I don’t think just any stone will work. It has to come from them.”

“But if the stone is connected to them, they’ll know you’re in there.”

I lift my shoulders, tuck a lock of hair behind my ear. “That’s a chance I’m willing to take.”

He holds my look for a moment, then heaves a sigh of surrender and pushes away from the table.

“Also, I just received a text from Lita. She ran into Cade. Dace was with him.”

Chay returns to his seat, regards me with a sober gaze. “So it’s started.” His face is tired, voice resigned.

“Doubtful. Dace would never join forces with the Richters. If he was there, it was for a good reason.”

“Daire, if Dace is being led by the beast, then the choices he makes are no longer his.”

“Guess that remains to be seen.”

Another impasse. Chay sighs and says, “The stone is buried deep at the base of one of our mountains. It’ll take most of the night to reach it.”

Our eyes meet.

“But I’ll do it. I’ll bring Leftfoot and Cree for company.”

“Thanks.” I slide free of the booth, turning in time to catch him looking at me in a way I can’t fathom.

“Paloma would be proud.”

Isquint.

“While I may not agree with your choices, there’s no doubt you’ve just taken your first real step toward trusting your instincts. There’s an old saying—when you conquer your fears, you conquer your life. Let’s hope it holds true in your case.”

I smile, feeling inordinately proud.

“There’s another old saying that anger is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die.” He slides an arm around my shoulders and leads me to the door. “And with that in mind, I’ll give you that stone on one condition.” He swings the door wide and ushers me into the night. “You clear your heart of hate for the Richters, especially Cade.”

I stop beside his truck, sure he must be joking. But one look at his face tells me he’s anything but. “I’m not sure that’s even possible.”

“Then you better find a way to make it possible because you’re playing right into their hands. The hate you harbor toward them is ripping a hole in your heart which will serve as a portal. Allowing them access to control you in ways far more effective than any stone could. Hate has an insidious way of taking over—but only if we let it. So don’t you dare let it.”

NINETEEN

DAIRE

Although I didn’t think it was possible, Axel looks more distraught than Lita and Xotichl when he learns of Dace’s meeting with Cade.

He paces the length of the room, makes a series of U-turns. “I’ve been guiding him since the day he was born. There was never any indication it would come to this. No warning, nothing. Still, despite his telling us, I guess I still clung to the secret hope that it wasn’t that bad, that he’d be spared somehow. And yet, the evidence speaks for itself.”

“How does that work exactly?” Xotichl curls her feet under her legs. “How does one get assigned to a guide?”

“Yeah, and do you know mine?” Lita’s eyes light up. “I mean, now that you’re open to talking about it—I mean, you are open, right? Since you’re the one who brought it up.”

Axel drops his gaze to the floor. “I can’t discuss it. It’s . . . sacred.”

“But you’re no longer part of the team, remember? You’re not even a benchwarmer. For all intents and purposes, you were dropped.”

He sighs. Unable to resist her, he says, “Even as guides, we’re not created perfect.”

“But you were more than a guide, right? You were a Mystic.”

“Still, like them, I had my own quirks to overcome. And so we were often assigned charges with similar issues.”

“And what were your issues? What are Dace’s issues?” I ask, hoping for a fresh perspective, a new angle I might’ve missed.

“We’re both rebels at heart.”

I sit with that, trying to decide if it’s good or bad.

“We’re eager to please, but only up to a point. We have a fierce sense of right and wrong, and we’ll do whatever it takes to protect it.”

Our eyes meet, and I know what he’s thinking: Dace is being led by the beast—his moral boundaries are blurred.

But I see it differently. Dace’s light has always been one of his most defining features—I refuse to believe it could be snuffed so easily. But when I share the thought with my friends, they respond with the same distrusting look I’ve grown used to seeing.

“Don’t forget, Dace is a split soul,” I press. “He encompasses the good half—the light half—while Cade encompasses the dark.”

“Not anymore . . .” Lita mumbles under her breath, causing everyone to shift uncomfortably.

“The potential to choose darkness was always there,” Axel says. “He did have free will. But he always chose to rise above it. Until . . .”

“Until I came to town.”

“It was fated.” He shrugs. “Of course I didn’t know that back then.”

“So, if you didn’t have a road map,” Xotichl asks, “how’d you know when to be in the Lowerworld on Christmas Eve to save him—only you ended up saving Daire instead?”

“Usually we don’t get the signal until just a few moments before. There’s not a lot of time to prepare. But with Dace, I’d been worried for days. I didn’t like the way things were progressing, and so I did the forbidden—I peeked at his Soul Book.”

We stare at him wide-eyed.

“So it exists!” Xotichl squeals, causing us to shift our attention her way. “It’s said that everyone has one. It’s a record of all that was, is, and will be. Paloma told me about it early on in her teachings.”

“Oh, it’s real,” Axel says. “And it was strictly forbidden for someone like me.”

“But his Soul Book must’ve been wrong,” Lita says. “Because Daire died instead of Dace.”

“Words contain energy, and energy is subject to transformation and change. Our thoughts guide our actions which in turn determine the lives that we lead. Every action has a series of probable reactions or outcomes . . .”

“And Dace deciding to steal a bit of Cade’s soul changed his future?”

“Looks like.”

“Was that when you decided to look?” Lita asks.

“I failed that night. I understood his motivation, but I tried my best to urge him against it. Though he was good at shutting me out, and he made that leap without looking back. Shortly after, I stole a glimpse of his book, and you know the rest.”

“What about your book? Do you have one? And if so, what does it say about me—about us?” Lita sits up straighter, eager to get a sneak peek into their future.

“It’s like I said, energy is subject to change and transformation. Nothing is written in stone . . .” His voice drifts along with his gaze.

Lita frowns, her shoulders deflate, and figuring we could all use the distraction, I say, “Well, the good news is . . .” I pause until I’m sure I have their attention. “Jennika just wrapped a movie and the costume designer agreed to let us borrow some of the gowns they used to wear at the Rabbit Hole party.”

Sure enough, Lita’s face lights up, though Xotichl’s grows skeptical. “And the bad news? You may as well spill it. This is Enchantment. Bad news is our specialty.”

“The bad news is we have a lot of work to do before we’re ready to face the Richters. Anyone up for a little training?”

“I’m on it.” Lita heads for the trunk, but before she can reach it, the doorbell chimes. The sound so unexpected, we all stop and freeze.

Axel is the first to respond; determined to make himself useful for living rent-free, he’s appointed himself as a sort of butler/houseboy. Though it’s only a moment later when he calls, “Daire, I think you better come see this.”

I rush out the door and onto the stoop, only to find yet another white glossy box tied with the same type of bloodred ribbon as the last one.

“What dead creature has he left us this time?” Lita snaps, as I kneel down beside it, and Axel follows the set of Coyote tracks, confirming two separate paths of entry and exit.

“You’re not going to open it, are you?” Auden asks.

“Of course she’s going to open it,” Xotichl says. “She has to!” Then seeing me hesitate, she adds, “You are going to open it, right?”

I nod. But instead of unwrapping it the usual way, I call upon the magick I’ve been relying on for pretty much everything these days in an effort to whip my skills into the best shape I can.

“No matter how many times I watch that, it still freaks me out.” Lita shivers as I unwind the ribbon and lift the lid from the box using only intent.

This time, whatever’s inside is hidden by several layers of delicate tissue I unfold with my hands, only to find the most beautiful, hand-crafted, black leather raven mask waiting beneath.

“Oh my gosh—it’s beautiful!” Lita slaps a hand over her mouth, realizing what she just said. “I mean, I know it’s from Cade, but, you have to admit, he does have good taste.”

“Maybe it’s not from Cade,” Xotichl says, looking from the mask to me. “What if it’s from Dace? You have to at least consider it, seeing as how he’s aligning himself with the Richters.”

“One visit does not an alignment make,” I snap, feeling bad about the edge in my voice the moment it’s out, but I’m really tired of everyone speaking against him. If by chance he was turning evil, he could hardly be held responsible. He made a choice with the noblest intentions, without fully understanding the consequences. If he could take it back, he would. If he could control the beast, he’d do that too. Still, I refuse to believe he would ever act out against me by sending such a cryptic gift with no note.

“Whoever it’s from, the question is: What are you going to do with it?” Auden asks.

I lift the mask from the box and hold it before me.

“Are you going to keep it?” Lita casts a nervous glance my way.

“For now.” I return it to the box and pack the tissues around it.

“Are you going to wear it? What if it’s cursed? Or worse?” Xotichl says.

“I guess we’ll leave that to the pendulum to decide. Come.” I usher them inside. “We have training to do and that’s as good a place to start as any.”

TWENTY

DACE

When I get to the Rabbit Hole, the grunt guarding the entrance starts to give me some grief, until I push my sunglasses high on my head, allow him a look at my blazing red eyes, and he waves me right in.

Guess Cade chose to ignore my request.

Yet another regret to add to his growing list.

I slip past a barricade that’s well into the process of being torn down, and make my way inside. Barely moving past the entry before I’m stunned into silence. The space is so new and improved it bears absolutely no resemblance to its former, run-down self. Every last trace of the shabby, old, dive bar has been successfully eradicated. Leaving a sleek, modern establishment, with high-end, minimalist design to stand in its place.

A sort of luxury Coyote lair.

The walls are an earthy mix of charcoals and browns. The floors are crafted from quartzite. While tall metal sculptures shaped to resemble trees jut from the corners, giving the place a cool, natural vibe.

I move among a row of plush, low-slung banquettes, and sculptural aluminum tables that appear as though they’ve been crushed by human hands. Noting how the one familiar symbol that remains is the red Coyote insignia marking the barware.

“So, what do you think?”

The voice is Leandro’s and I wait a handful of beats before I acknowledge it.

“A definite improvement.” I turn, allowing my gaze to roam the expanse of his face from behind my dark lenses. Searching for some semblance of myself in his sweep of dark hair and shrewd gaze. Though he’s never been a father to me, there’s no doubt he sired me. Turns out, we have more in common than we could’ve guessed. “So, you survived the blast,” I say. Nothing like stating the obvious. Still, while I came here with an agenda, it’s best not to rush it.

“Did you doubt me?” He cricks his neck, studies me with a practiced eye. His suspicion made plain in the look on his face.

I shrug. Hook my thumbs into my belt loops, aiming for a cool and casual stance. “There were many who were wishing you’d perished.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say many.” He laughs, but the sound is hollow, short-lived. “Though I’m sure there were a few. Which leads me to wonder—were you among them?”

I fix my gaze on his, surprised to find the answer comes quickly. That it’s not at all complicated, and surprisingly genuine. “What kind of son would I be to wish such a thing?”

His gaze narrows, searching for signs of falsehood, mockery, but he’ll find none of that here. I’m glad he survived. More than he could ever realize. Though from the looks of it, Leandro’s hard to convince. “I’m afraid that’s a tougher sell than you think.”

“Why would I lie?”

“Same reason most people lie to me. To gain special favor.”

“I’m not seeking favors.”

“Aren’t you?” His brow creases and lifts, his lips fall thin and flat. “That’s not what I hear. Cade warned me you’d come. Says you want your old job back.”

“Then Cade’s a liar.”

Leandro tenses, his fingers curl ever so slightly, yet there’s no denying his curiosity’s spiked.

“I have no interest in being yet another underpaid lackey.”

He shifts his weight onto his heels, shoots me an appraising look. “So, what do you have in mind?”

“I want that pay raise you promised last New Year’s Eve.”

“That so?” His eyes crease in amusement. “And tell me, Dace, what do you plan on doing to earn it? What sort of services are you offering to provide?”

“Whatever’s needed. You’re the boss, you tell me.” I take a moment to glance all around, trying to guesstimate just how much this renovation might’ve cost. No doubt, it set them back a good bit. Still, the Richters are wealthy beyond measure. Whatever the number, they can afford it.

“Turns out, there wasn’t a whole lot that came out of pocket.” Leandro tries to appear as though he read my thoughts, when in reality, we both know it was my body language that gave me away. “Luckily, we were well-insured. Not that it concerns you.”

“Doesn’t it?”

A group of workers file past, making last-minute adjustments to the furniture placement, the angle of the lighting, as Leandro leans closer and says, “You planning to inherit or claim a portion of the profits?”

“Yes to both.” I meet his gaze. “I figure once you go, at least half should be mine. Don’t forget, I am part Richter.”

“But not the half that counts. As you so eloquently stated last New Year’s Eve.” He tilts his head back, stares down the bridge of his nose. “While I find this all very intriguing, I’m afraid you’re testing my patience. I’m a busy man. I have a club that’s set to reopen, and a long list of things to accomplish well before then. Aside from the responsibility of running this town and looking after its citizens who depend on me for their very well-being. So why don’t you get to the point. You want a job, is that right?”

“For starters.” I nod.

“And why should I hire you when, from what I hear, the gas station just gave you the boot? If you couldn’t even handle that brand of grunt work, what makes you think I want you working in my establishment?”

I duck my head, stare at my feet, figuring it’s better to remain silent than to rush to my own defense. If Leandro feels the need to exert his authority and show me who’s the alpha Coyote, so be it. I’m fine with holding my cards until it’s time to play them.

“Excuse my suspicion,” he continues. “But it wasn’t long ago when you wanted nothing to do with me. In fact, if I’m not mistaken, and rest assured I never am, you saw fit to threaten me. Going so far as to say, ‘I’m the mistake you will live to regret.’”

He pauses, giving me ample time to explain. And since there’s no denying anything he just said, I lift my shoulders, and admit, “That was then. This is now.

“Yeah? And what exactly has changed?”

“A lot’s changed. I’ve changed.”

“What specifically?” He shifts his weight from foot to foot, sneaks a peek at his flashy gold watch. Signaling that I am mere seconds from losing his attention for good.

“Specifically—this.” I push my dark shades high onto my forehead, revealing a set of red, glowing eyes. “Turns out, I couldn’t control my destiny in the way that I thought. There’s no stopping it. No way to fight it. So, I figure if this is what I’m meant to be, then it’s time I embrace it.”

Leandro moves closer, his expression as unguarded as I’ve ever seen. He lifts a hand to my cheek, whispers a string of words that at first I don’t understand. It’s only a few moments later after replaying them in my head that I realize he’s saying, son—my son, as he gazes upon me with the sort of reverence normally reserved for saints.

Though, I guess to Leandro, my blackened heart and tarnished soul hold a similar appeal.

“I knew it.” He’s transfixed by my gaze. “I knew it when I saw you last New Year’s Eve. Despite your bravado, I could sense the beast growing within. I knew it wouldn’t be long before it made itself known—and now this.”

He places a hand on either side of my face, thumbs pressing into my temples. That simple, singular touch enough to infuse me with a cache of esoteric secrets and arcane knowledge, until the entire history of the dark arts is coursing through my blood. Much of which comes as no surprise considering the countless times I eavesdropped on the elders’ private conversations as a kid. Still, seeing it unfold firsthand and discovering the whispers were true is something else entirely.

In order to be fully initiated into the dark arts—whether it be skinwalking or, in my case, making the full transition into the malevolent beast I’m destined to be—killing a relative is the price of admission.

Turns out, it’s the most useful thing Leandro has shared.

It may well prove to be the last conscious choice I’m able to make before the beast fully dominates.

It’s an act no Richter has ever achieved. As Leftfoot once said, Leandro is unwilling to spare even the dimmest Richter. Which explains why Cade’s transitions are always temporary. Not a single one of them has ever been willing to go all the way—until now.

I have every intention of being the first.

And I know just where to start.

“Father.” I clasp his hand in mine. The two of us joined in unspoken solidarity, when Cade calls to him from across the room.

At first Leandro ignores him, but it only causes Cade to shout louder. “What do you want?” Leandro barks, making no effort to disguise his annoyance.

“What do you mean, what do I want? What the hell are you doing with him?” Cade crosses the room in a handful of steps, his voice steeped in outrage, as he says, “You’re not seriously considering giving him his job back, are you?”

“Of course not.” Leandro spares his son a cursory glance, just long enough to see him visibly relax, before he shifts his focus to me. “I’m giving him your job.”

“What the—?” Cade stammers. So enraged by the situation, he can barely get to the words. “Are you freaking crazy? Dace hates us! He’s out to destroy us! He’s working with the Seeker. They’ve planned this all along, and you’re playing right into their hands!”

Leandro meets my gaze straight on. “Is that true?”

“It was.” I take a moment to acknowledge Cade, reveling in the look of defeat plastered across his face. “But not anymore.” My glowing red eyes confirm what words can’t.

Leandro turns to Cade, voice filled with loathing as he says, “Clear out your office and make room for your brother. Once that’s done, check in with the kitchen staff and offer your assistance.”

“No. No way.” Cade is red-faced and furious. “I’ve worked way too hard to let you mess it all up!”

“No?” Leandro mocks. “No? And just what are you going to do about it? Go ahead, show me why I shouldn’t choose your brother over you. It’s been so long since I, or anyone else for that matter, last saw the real you.”

Driven by his hatred for me and a true determination to prove himself to Leandro, Cade’s face darkens, his body trembles and shakes. Straining with all that he’s got to make the shift, but the transformation that once happened so easily he could barely contain it will no longer come.

“Just as I thought.” Regarding his son with a look of blatant contempt, Leandro shakes his head and shoves him aside. “I had high hopes for you, but clearly I overestimated your abilities.”

“This is bullshit!” Cade shouts. “It’s the worst kind of trick, and you’re falling for it! Dace is—”

“Dace is the reason you stand here today. Don’t you ever forget that.” Leandro glowers. His anger so palpable I can actually feel it streaming off him. “First, you do me considerable financial damage when you flooded the tourmaline market. Then you lied about killing the Seeker, and your brother too, for that matter. Then you put this entire family at risk last New Year’s Eve when you couldn’t manage to stop the girl and her crazy father from blowing up the place, after assuring me I didn’t need to get involved because you had it all under control—”

“But I killed Paloma! Did you seriously forget that? Or maybe you’re determined to ignore it because you’re embarrassed by how easily I succeeded where you failed!”

Though he does have a point, it only serves to feed Leandro’s rage. His voice lowers to a whisper that’s far more threatening than any scream could ever be. “You’ve made the tragic mistake of thinking you’re one step ahead of me, when the fact is, you have brought shame upon this family by failing it in every conceivable way.” He thumps his son hard in the chest, humiliating Cade to no end. “You are no longer useful to me. No longer a revered member of El Coyote. So pull yourself together, deal with your failings, and show your brother a little respect. So far as I can see, Dace is the only one with any hope of someday replacing me.” Dismissing Cade with an impatient turn of his head, Leandro slides an arm around my shoulders, and says, “Come. We’ll go into my office and nail down the details. By the time we’re finished, your new office should be ready.”

TWENTY-ONE

DAIRE

When the doorbell rings, I instinctively shout for Axel to get it. Remembering too late he’s not home.

I wipe my hands on the front of my cutoffs and head down the ramp. Only to find Jennika struggling to squeeze through the door.

“Mom? What are you doing here?” I rush to help. As equally excited to see her as I am flustered by her ability to continually surprise me with her unannounced, ambush-style visits.

“Told you I’d bring the dresses,” she says. The words muffled by the three puffy garment bags piled so high in her arms they cover most of her face.

“You told me you’d send the dresses.” I help her unload them onto the couch before moving in for a hug.

“Send—bring—what’s the difference?” She grins. “The point is, they’re here. And just in time, I might add. Which wasn’t easy—traffic was insane.”

“You drove?”

“All the way from the Albuquerque airport. Now, let me get a look at you. It’s been too long since my eyes enjoyed a Daire-sized feast.” She draws away, holding me at arm’s length to better inspect me.

“And to think it feels like just yesterday when we Skyped,” I quip, trying not to cringe under the glare of her probing assessment.

“You look tired.” She states the words with the same finality as a judge reading a verdict.

“Nothing a little concealer can’t fix.” I move to untangle myself from her grip, but she tips her finger to my chin and holds me in place.

“Not what I meant. You’re as beautiful as ever, and your skin looks amazing. I’m glad to see you’re heeding my warnings and wearing your sunscreen. But, behind your eyes, I sense the fatigue of someone with several decades on you. What’s going on, Daire? I thought you said all was quiet on the Richter front?”

This time I succeed in pulling away, and I use the moment to steal a quick peek at her ring finger. Relieved to confirm she’s still engaged.

Jennika has a habit of bolting from anything that hints of commitment. And for the last nine months since I moved to Enchantment, Paloma’s adobe has served as her go-to place whenever things get too heated with her fiancé.

“How’s Harlan?” I ask, just to confirm they’re still on.

“Good.” She grins, shoots a hand through hair that’s dyed a pretty, soft blonde with bits of buttery yellow streaking through. Though there’s no telling how long this look will last. Jennika changes her hair color as often as most people change sheets. “He would’ve come, but he’s on location doing an editorial shoot in Goa.”

“Rough life.” I crack a smile, but it fails to convince.

“Not nearly as rough as yours.” She folds her thin arms across her chest and continues her inventory. Noting bare feet with toes polished a bright turquoise blue, worn denim cutoffs, a white tank top, and hair swept back into a messy ponytail. Not a whole lot to see, and certainly nothing alarming, still she sees fit to say, “Daire, I’m concerned.”

“Don’t be. I’m fine.” I turn on my heel and make for the kitchen. Thanks to Axel the house is more or less tidy and the fridge is actually full. Last thing I need is for Jennika to see just how chaotic my life has become. Though judging by the look she shoots me when I offer her a cool drink, she’s not fooled.

“How long are you staying?” I ask, noting she didn’t arrive with any bags. Then again, for all I know her entire stash of worldly belongings is crammed into the trunk of her rental car.

“Haven’t decided.” She places a hand on her hip and surveys the room. “Guess that depends on you.” She shifts her focus to me, and I can’t help but flinch under such intense scrutiny.

I can slay demons, stand up to the evilest of Richters, and yet, one knowing look from my mom and I’m coming apart.

Last January, when we said goodbye, it was with the firm understanding that I’d keep in touch, keep her informed, and she’d leave me to do what I must. While she may not like my being a Seeker, she seemed to accept it as something she could neither interfere with nor change. But now, despite keeping to my end of the deal, she latches onto the flimsiest excuse she can find to show up at the absolute, worst possible time.

She settles herself at the kitchen table, takes a sip of iced tea, and levels her gaze right on me. “How’s Dace?”

On the surface, the question is simple, straightforward, packed with no apparent agenda. And yet, it’s pretty much the worst thing she could’ve asked. Dace has become such a hot-button topic, even my friends have stopped referring to him.

Though that’s not to say I don’t think about him.

Because I do.

Nearly every second of every day.

Dace is always with me, simmering just under the surface. Still, it’s been so long since I’ve talked about him, I’m unsure what to say.

I stifle a sigh, drop onto the seat opposite hers, and decide to lead with the truth. “Honestly, I don’t know. It’s been a while since we last spoke.” My shoulders tense, my fingers twist tightly together, as I wait for her to break into a rousing chorus of the I-told-you-so song.

Jennika was never a Dace fan. Right from the start she was fully convinced he was put on this earth with the sole task of breaking my heart. While the assessment speaks mostly of her own well-documented fear of commitment—it’s strange how it echoes the prophecy.

It took a long time for Jennika to come around. And while she never quite embraced our relationship, she did resign herself to the idea of the two of us being together.

But now, with just a few simple words, I’ve proven her right.

I pick at the underside of the table, waiting for her to react. Jennika has the tenacity of a pit bull. She will gladly sit here all night if that’s what it takes to get me to spill.

“Dace and I are on a break.” I cringe when I say it, bracing for one of her sarcastic comebacks. But when she continues the silence, I add, “It’s . . . complicated.”

“Try me.” The diamond stud in her nose quivers and glints. Her green eyes meet mine.

I swallow hard, grasp the edge of the table so hard the table’s wood grain leaves marks on my skin. I don’t want to discuss it. Can’t bear to say the words. And yet, next thing I know, I’m spilling the whole sordid tale. The words spewing so quickly I’ve no time to vet them.

To her credit, Jennika refrains from all comment. She just nods, sips her tea, and sighs in all the appropriate places, until I’m all out of words, all out of breath, and she lifts her chin and says, “Well, you know what you have to do, right?”

I push away from the table, tilt my chair back on two legs in the way that she hates. “I know what I’m going to do. And, if you’re like everyone else, it’s not even close to what you’re thinking.” The words are sharp, but not nearly as sharp as the accusing look on my face.

I was sure she’d follow the usual Jennika script. Use my tale of woe to gloat, tell me she knew it all along. I never expected her to highjack my pain as a teachable moment to reinforce how I need to take down my boyfriend.

“You’re acting as though you have a choice, when clearly you don’t.” She runs a slow finger around the rim of her glass.

“According to who?” I start to say more, start to say something I’ll surely live to regret—but then I think better, and talk myself down. Getting upset won’t do any good. If anything, it will only serve to prove her point. If she thinks I’m being irrational, then it’s my job to prove just the opposite.

“If Dace is fated to go dark—fated to kill you along with everyone else—then I can’t see what you can possibly do to change that. It’s your duty to protect the citizens of Enchantment, Daire, or at least that’s the story you once told me. If you fail to keep the three worlds in balance . . . well, I can’t even imagine the result. There is too much at stake, you can’t allow yourself to be led by your heart!”

“It’s my duty to protect the citizens of Enchantment, yes, and, in case you’ve forgotten, that includes Dace! Sheesh, Jennika, I thought out of everyone, you’d be the one who might understand. Nice to know you’re against me as well.”

“I’m not against you, Daire, I’m merely against your decision. I think you’re being reckless, dangerous, woefully misguided, and I’m begging you to reconsider.” She pushes away from the table and carries her glass to the sink. Leaning against the tiled counter, she turns and says, “Daire, I get that you love him. I get that it’s your first love, which makes it all the more powerful. But if I hear you correctly, then Dace isn’t really Dace anymore. He’s not the boy you fell for. He’s being eroded by this . . . beast, as you call it. And it won’t be long before there’s not a trace of him left. You need to deal with that now, get it straight in your head before it’s too late. You need to prepare yourself for the hard choices to come. You need to be ready to face the inevitable.”

“Guess that’s where you and I differ. I don’t believe it’s inevitable. I may be new at love but if there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s that love knows no boundaries. Not when it’s real. Not when it’s true. The feelings Dace and I share can never be destroyed by a beast or anything else. We’re not like everyone else. We don’t fit into a convenient slot. We can’t be labeled and catalogued quite as easily as you’d like. Dace did this for me—to help me with my fight against the Richters. He acted with the noblest of intentions, and I plan to honor him with the same level of sacrifice. I won’t kill him, and that’s all there is to it.”

Jennika sighs. Her face is as resigned as her voice when she says, “You know, I have a thousand arguments lined up and ready to go. And yet, I know how stubborn you are—and I know you got that from me. I’ll never be able to convince you, will I?”

I shake my head.

“But that doesn’t mean I won’t continue to try.” She quirks a brow.

“I’ve no doubt.”

“So, can we call a truce—at least for now?”

“I’ve been doing that a lot lately.”

I settle into my seat, sure that the worst is over, when she moves toward the blue tourmaline I left on the handrail that leads to my office and squeals, “Is this what I think?”

She reaches for the stone, but before she can get to it, I use telekinesis to arc it away from her grip and into my hand, as she turns on me with a face full of outraged disbelief. “Answer me, Daire!”

“Yes.” I shove it deep into my front pocket.

“And why is it here? What are you doing with it? And, more importantly, is it still dangerous?”

I answer with an uncertain look.

“I see.” Her face is strained, voice grim. “And yet, you see fit to carry it around in your pocket?”

“It’s . . . complicated . . .”

“You’ve used that phrase twice now.” She folds her arms over her chest, kicks a leg out before her. Staring down the length of her skinny white jeans, she says, “The way I see it, the only thing complicated around here is your reasoning. First, you tell me your boyfriend is destined to destroy the world and everyone in it, but you choose to ignore it because you believe your love will prevail. Then you see fit to hang onto the very same stone that’s responsible for killing your grandmother.” I start to respond, but one flash of her palm is all it takes to silence me. “Excuse me for saying so, but I can’t help but wonder if the two are connected. If you’re so devastated by what’s happening between you and Dace that it’s clouding your judgment and causing you to take unhealthy risks.”

“It’s not like that. You’ve got it all wrong.”

“Well, until you do a better job of explaining, I’ll stand by my opinion.”

“It truly is complicated. Nothing is black and white. Nothing is what it seems. It’s the fundamental rule of Enchantment, and it seems you’ve forgotten it.” She lifts her brow, but allows me to continue. “So add this to the list of things we’ll agree to disagree on.”

“I’m sorry, Daire, but I can’t be that glib. What happened to my sensible, if not cynical daughter?”

“I’ve recently discovered what I suspected all along—cynicism is overrated and overvalued. It’s the shield people hide behind in the mistaken belief that it makes them appear cool, strong, and impenetrable. But true bravery isn’t about following the crowd or pretending not to care—it’s about daring to trust in yourself and staying true to your heart in the face of dissent. True courage is going out on a limb for the people you love because it’s the right thing to do.” Jennika looks at me long and hard but refrains from further comment. “While it may upset you, while you may find it disconcerting, my drive to save Dace isn’t nearly as foolish as you think. I know what I’m doing, Jennika. I’ve trained long and hard to get to this point. Yet, despite the magick I wield, despite the numbers of demons I’ve slayed, despite the evil I’ve witnessed firsthand, in the end, I’m putting my faith in the power of love. Everything else pales in comparison.”

I stand before her, unsure what comes next. While I’m sure I haven’t convinced her, it seems I have silenced her. Still, there’s one thing left to say—a promise I desperately need to extract.

“I only ask that you refrain from mentioning the tourmaline to my friends.” My gaze pleads with hers. “In fact, please don’t mention it to anyone.”

“It’s not like you to keep secrets, Daire.” She narrows her gaze, her suspicions spiked once again.

“It’s not a secret. Or at least not entirely. The elders all know. Chay’s the one who delivered the stone. Chepi’s the one who turned it into a ring.”

Jennika flattens her lips.

“Look, I’m not going to lie, it’s not like they offered. But they did go along with my request.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing.” She casts a wary glance at my pocket, as though she can see the offending jewel through the denim.

“That makes two of us.”

She regards me for a long thoughtful moment. While my words failed to comfort, at least they were honest. The moment is interrupted by the commotion of Axel, Lita, Xotichl, and Auden coming through the front door.

“Found another one on the stoop. Looks like this is becoming a habit.” Axel deposits a long, rectangular, glossy white box on the kitchen table before he notices Jennika.

“You must be Axel.” She extends her hand before I have a chance to introduce them. “Last time I was here, you were invisible. We couldn’t properly meet.” She says it with such ease I can’t help but feel a bit awed at how far she’s come. Wasn’t even a year ago when she shunned anything to do with the supernatural and tried to drag me back to LA. After greeting Auden, she moves in to hug both Xotichl and Lita. Remarking on Xotichl’s new glasses, her ability to see, and drawing away from Lita to say, “You are simply radiant. Being in love clearly suits you.”

Lita blushes. Allowing for a sight rarely seen. Though as sweet as the moment may be, I can’t help but cringe, knowing her happiness is temporary at best.

“Speaking of love . . .” Lita nods toward the package. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think Cade Richter was in love with you.”

“This is from Cade?” Jennika moves toward it, shifting her gaze between the box, my friends, and me.

I move past the comment, it’s too ludicrous to contemplate, and use my magick to unspool the ribbon and remove the glossy white top.

“No matter how many times I see that, it’s still eerie.” Jennika rubs her hands over her arms and stifles a shiver despite the sweltering heat.

“Any animal carcasses in there?” Lita tips onto her toes to get a better view, Xotichl takes a step back, as I unfold the bed of delicate white tissue. Unaware I’d been holding my breath until I uncover a beautiful swath of red silk and heave a deep exhale.

“Is that—a dress?” Jennika leans closer, as I lift the nest of fabric from the box, hold it by the Grecian-style straps, and release glorious swirls of sunset-red fabric that undulates to the floor. The gown is gorgeous, made of fine, heavy silk, bearing a low-cut neckline to rival an even more daring back, a tight bit of gathering that nips in at the waist, before spilling into a series of soft gentle waves that dance just like flames.

An exact replica of the dress I wore in the dream. The one where I found myself at the precipice of a cliff as Cade slid a tourmaline ring onto my finger.

“It’s incredible.” Jennika looks at me. “Far more beautiful than any of the gowns I brought.”

“But why is it red, when it’s supposed to be a black-and-white ball?” Xotichl asks.

“Who cares!” Lita says. “It’s not like she’s going to wear it.” Her eyes widening when she sees my reaction. “You’re not going to wear it, are you?” She casts me a look I can’t quite read. Is it jealousy—derision—caution? It’s impossible to say.

“Of course I’m going to wear it.” My tone bears the same conviction I wear on my face, aware of my friends staring at me with varying degrees of disbelief.

“Daire, you can’t be serious.” Lita frowns. “While I agree that it’s stunning, wearing that dress will only result in putting you in even more danger than you already are. Nothing’s free where the Richters are concerned. Every act of their so-called charity comes with a price, and a steep one at that. Question is, why is he doing this?”

I continue to hold the gown against me, running my palm down the soft, silky front. The cut is exquisite. Every tuck and seam falling right into place. Conforming to my contours so precisely it’s as though it was tailor-made.

“So long as there are no blue tourmalines hiding in the hem, I don’t see why I shouldn’t wear it. Besides, he doesn’t expect me to wear it, and that’s exactly the reason I will.” I splay my fingers against the waist, twirl the skirts around my legs.

“I don’t get it,” Xotichl says, as Jennika echoes a similar sentiment.

“Listen, so far nothing I’ve done to stop Cade has worked. So, it’s time for a new strategy.” I take a moment to glance at each of them, letting them know I’m deadly serious and this is not at all negotiable.

“And I suppose you’re going to wear the raven mask too?” Lita scowls, makes no attempt to hide her disapproval.

“I think they’ll go nicely, together. Don’t you?” I refold the dress and return it to the box the same way I found it.

“Daire, why are you doing this?” Jennika looks at me, and I know the question is not nearly as limited as it seems on the surface.

What she really means is: Why the dress? Why the mask? Why are you ignoring our concerns? And, more importantly, why do you insist on hanging onto the very same tourmaline that killed your grandmother?

Jennika means well. They all do. They’re only trying to protect me. Still, I look at them and say, “Ever since the very first Seeker went up against the first Coyote, the goal has been to resist the enemy at every turn.”

“Um, yeah. Isn’t that pretty much the job description of a Seeker?” Lita frowns.

“Up until now, yes. But what if it doesn’t have to be? What if there’s another way to handle them?”

“By playing right into their hands?” Xotichl screws her lips to the side as though trying to make sense of my words. Reluctant to disregard them outright, yet a long way from accepting their truth.

“Partly.”

“You’re going to have to explain.” Lita shakes her head, looks to Axel for backup, but he just slips a comforting arm around her waist, and wisely stays out of it.

“Ever hear the saying what you resist persists?”

Xotichl and Axel nod, Jennika assumes a thoughtful expression, Auden checks his cell, and Lita folds her hands across her chest.

“What it basically means is, the things we resist, the past, the present, the shameful parts of ourselves, have a tendency to become even more prominent. We waste so much of our time and focus on fighting things, ideas, or people we don’t like, when, in the end, it only serves to make those things even more magnified in our lives.”

“Like when you first showed up at Milagro High, and instead of ignoring you and getting on with my life like I should have, I focused all of my attention on you until it seemed like you were everywhere, and it made me dislike you even more?” Lita says. And while it’s not an example I would have chosen, there’s no doubt it fits.

“Yeah. Something like that. And, well, what if the same thing could be said for the Richters? I mean, Seekers have spent countless generations fighting Coyote’s advances. But what if we stopped? What if we played along instead? Or at least gave the impression of playing along.”

“Well, then I’m pretty sure that would result in the world-plunging-into-eternal-darkness Apocalypse scenario the Codex warns about.” Xotichl frowns.

“Not necessarily.”

I motion toward the swath of carefully folded silk fabric. “Clearly this is just another one of Cade’s taunts. So imagine how he’ll react when I call his bluff and show up to the party in full-on, Coyote-style regalia.”

They fall silent, taking a moment to imagine how that might look.

“It’ll throw him completely off track, which will buy me just enough time to take him down before he even realizes what hit him.”

“This is crazy!” Lita says. “Seriously, crazy. And I’m sorry for saying it, but I’m merely voicing what everyone else is thinking. Not to mention that by taking Cade down you also kill Dace. And while you know I’m all for slaying the beast before he can slay us, last I heard, you were dead set against it.”

“And I’m still dead set against it. I have no intention of killing Dace, but Cade has to be stopped or we’re all doomed anyway. Listen, all I can do is trust in my training, my magick, and the tools Paloma left for me. And when it comes down to it, I pray that not only will my ancestors aid me, but that my love for Dace proves stronger than evil—stronger than death.”

Axel shoots me a saddened look, Jennika shakes her head softly and gazes down at her feet, while Auden and Xotichl avoid my gaze, and Lita frowns.

“But for now, the last thing I want to do is argue with you. I know you mean well and I know you’re only trying to look out for me, which is a good thing because it turns out I can’t do it alone. I’ve been working on a plan that involves all of you. So we better get started, and use what little time we have left.”

TWENTY-TWO

DACE

I shut the door on my shithole apartment, knowing it won’t be long before I shut it for good.

While Leandro offered me a room in the compound, I knew better than to accept.

Much like Leftfoot, everything with Leandro is a test. He may be inordinately proud of the darkness rising within me, but he doesn’t entirely trust me. All the years spent apart, combined with my uncensored threats, will take time to bridge.

Besides, having already staked a claim on my inheritance, it’s best not to appear too acquisitive right out of the gate. Little does he know, I have no plans to settle for half. Not when I can claim the whole pie.

I climb behind the wheel of my Mustang, now painted a slick cherry-red with an engine under the hood that purrs like a panther. A token from Leandro who said no self-respecting Richter should be seen driving such a wreck of a car.

Amazing what a bit of magick and a fat wad of bills can do for a ride.

I take the long way to the Rabbit Hole, surveying the land with the satisfaction of knowing it won’t look this run-down for much longer. There’s hope for the future of Enchantment. Even if I’m no longer a part of it, I plan to leave my mark.

My thoughts are interrupted by my cell phone chiming, though the second I see it’s my mom I set it on mute.

Ever since that day at the cave, the elders have made themselves scarce. Yet despite their warnings, Chepi refuses to fold. Insisting some part of the old me hangs on.

While she happens to be right, what she doesn’t realize is that it’s now so reduced I can’t risk talking to her, much less seeing her, even if it’s just to say one last goodbye.

The beast stirring within bears an insatiable hunger for the kill, and it doesn’t discriminate amongst victims. It’s a threat I take seriously, and if she knew what was good for her, she’d take it seriously too.

Daire once told me about the night she spied on Cade after merging her soul with a cockroach. Saw him snacking on the same dregs of unidentifiable bloody, raw carcass he fed to Coyote. Back then, I found the story disgusting.

But now, just thinking about it causes my belly to rumble—my taste buds to spark.

While I haven’t yet stooped to that level, the urge grows stronger with each passing day.

Funny how now that I’m turning, everything about my brother makes sense. His urge to slay, consume, and destroy are a perfect match of my own. Allowing for a sense of solidarity I never could’ve imagined before.

Though that’s not to say I won’t kill him.

He’s at the top of my list.

Killing a relative is the only way to ensure the beast comes fully alive, which will allow me to take down the rest of them too.

I may lose myself, but I’ll save Daire in the process.

And that’s all that really matters.

I cruise past a seemingly never-ending stream of broken-down adobes. The lights dimming in the windows indicating a sleepy dump of a town settling in, while I’m just getting started.

Like Coyote, I do my best hunting at night.

I pull up to the back door, arriving at the same time as Leandro.

“How’s that for synchronicity?” He grins.

I manage half a grin in return and slip free of my car.

“A vast improvement.” He admires the custom paint, the shiny, new rims.

“Thanks.” I force the word past my lips, remembering how well he responds to things like praise, appreciation, and overall ego-stroking.

He swings the door open, ushers me inside the club where I’m so overcome with the scent of Raven I freeze on the spot.

My nose twitching. Vision sharpening. Hunger stirring. Knowing without a doubt that she’s here.

Daire.

Lurking in places she knows better than to visit.

“You okay?” Leandro shoots me a strange look and I can’t believe he can’t sense her. Has no idea his lair has been breached by Coyote’s last remaining enemy—not counting me.

I nod, leaving him at the bar where he mixes himself a stiff drink as I hurry down the hall to my office, drawn by the lure of her scent.

When she hears me, she presses hard to the wall in a futile bid to go unseen. Having no idea that ever since the change, my eyes see everything.

I lean against the doorway, indulging a long sweet moment to linger on the drape of her dark hair trailing over her shoulder, the flush at her cheeks, the hollow of her neck, the curve of her thighs gleaming under the glow of security lights.

The sight of her soft, creamy flesh causing my spine to stiffen, my muscles to cord and flex, as my pulse begins to race, and a hunger stirs deep within.

I throw my head back and drag a deep breath, filling my head with her sweet, hypnotic scent.

Aware of the beat of her heart slamming hard in her chest.

The soft whistle of breath passing her lips.

The salty trickle of sweat that’s slipped between her breasts.

Her essence so enticing, so alluring, the small remnant of the old me yearns to run to her, confide how much I love her, how much I’ve missed her. Tell her she’s right—we can do this together.

Unfortunately, the beast wholeheartedly concurs. Thinking how much fun it will be to soften her up, before he destroys her.

Slowly, very slowly, she slips a hand down her leg, reaches for the knife she’s stashed in her boot.

Come. Come to me, the beast coos.

His voice overpowering my own urge to warn her to run while she can.

She grasps the hilt. Removes the sheath until the blade glints silver. Then waits for me to make the first move.

Leaves it to me to determine how this unfolds.

A smart move that buys her another night.

Better not tempt a beast that’s not mine to control.

Determined to get away before I lose it completely, I slip into my office, shut the door between us, and bolt it securely.

TWENTY-THREE

XOTICHL

“Tell me again why we’re meeting him all the way out here—in what can literally be described as the middle of nowhere?” I peer through the windshield, unable to free myself of this deep sense of unease, much less pinpoint its cause, other than to say nothing looks as it should.

When we first set out, the sky was perfectly clear and littered with stars—a typical Enchantment hot summer night (albeit a lot hotter than usual). But here, the sky is choked with clouds as thick, ominous, and wide as the sea. And other than countless tribes of tumbleweeds, and the narrow dirt road unspooling beneath us, there’s virtually nothing else to speak of.

It’s the kind of eerie, desolate landscape often seen in nightmares and horror movies.

A haunting place of dark secrets, bad deeds.

“We came all this way because it’s convenient for Luther. It’s where he wanted to meet.” Auden picks up the speed, places a reassuring hand on my knee.

“Well, don’t you think he should’ve made it convenient for us? After all, you’re the one signing the contract.”

“Exactly.” Auden peers at me through a clump of thick, shaggy bangs that fall into his eyes. “And if it wasn’t for Luther, there’d be no contract to sign.”

“Don’t sell yourself short.” I frown. “Luther’s the one who’s set to benefit the most. As they say in Vegas—the house always wins.”

“Which means the record company is the one set to benefit most. Then Luther. Then me. Don’t forget, I’m just the lowly musician.” He laughs, jiggles my knee in an attempt to get me to laugh too, or at least lighten up, but it doesn’t quite work. “Listen,” he says, determined to try again and relieve at least some of my tension. “The location may suck, but I’m lucky to be here. It’s not like anyone else was lining up to give me a contract.”

“That’s because you mostly played the Rabbit Hole and a few clubs in Albuquerque. It’s not like this is Nashville, New York, or L.A. It’s not like you were really out there marketing yourself.”

“Because I couldn’t stand the time spent away from you. It never seemed worth it.”

“And now you can?”

“Hardly.” He leans across the seat to plant a kiss on my cheek, drawing away as he says, “Also, I knew we were okay, but not quite good enough. I wanted to get our sound together before we went wide.”

“Yeah, but now it’s just you. It’s not like they wanted the rest of the band.”

“And I still feel bad about that.”

“I always thought it was a cool name, but maybe in a way it was a little too prophetic.”

He looks at me.

“You know, Epitaph getting its epitaph . . .”

His lips flatten, he focuses back on the road, and we both fall silent. Allowing a few miles to pass before Auden says, “Thing is, my sound still isn’t quite where I want it, nor where they want it, but luckily they’re willing to work with me.”

I lift my shoulders, stare out the side window.

Which probably isn’t the reaction he was looking for, since it prompts him to say, “Xotichl, are you not happy for me?”

“No.” I look at his crestfallen face, instantly realizing my mistake. “I mean, yes! I am happy for you. You have no idea. But I also think you’re acting too grateful.”

“Since when is gratitude a negative?”

“In general, hardly ever. But when you get that I’m just so lucky to be here I’ll put up with anything attitude—then it’s a problem.”

“That’s hardly the case.”

“Isn’t it?” I turn to him with a challenging look. “You dropped the band without once looking back, and now we’re headed for the ends of the earth because it’s convenient for Luther. Never mind that it’s completely out of our way.”

Auden sighs, lifts his fingers from the wheel, then returns with a grip that appears twice as tight. “It’s not quite as simple as that. There’s more to it. Stuff I didn’t want to bother you with. But the important thing is, once this contract is signed, my songs are recorded, and I’m playing on the radio all over the world, it’s going to be pretty tough for your mom to say I’m not good enough for you.”

I slink further down in my seat, not sure I’d agree. Auden is my first and only boyfriend, so I can’t say for certain, but I’m pretty convinced that where my mother’s concerned, no boy will ever be good enough for her little girl.

At first I thought her overprotectiveness was due to my blindness. Like it stemmed from this instinctual, maternal urge to keep me safe and buffered from the big, bad, dangerous world—especially the big, bad, dangerous world of boys.

Despite Auden’s genius IQ, despite the fact that he graduated early so he could attend university, she remained unimpressed. And now that my sight has returned, she’s waged a whole new defense for why we shouldn’t be together. Turning what should be a happy, if not celebratory time, into a constant series of battles, both big and small. And the truth is, the war she’s waging is turning out to be far more successful than I’d like to admit.

It’s making me feel torn between them.

I love Auden with all of my heart, same as he loves me.

And I just don’t get why that isn’t enough.

“That must be him.” Auden tips his head toward the windshield and the landscape of endless miles of nothing beyond. “See those headlights, right up there where the two roads cross—it’s gotta be him, right?”

“Either that or an escaped mental patient turned serial killer who’s just waiting for some unsuspecting teenagers to drive past.”

“That’s it—no more scary movies for you.” He squeezes my hand with fingers gone slightly clammy. Guess I didn’t realize how nervous he is, and everything I’ve said since I got in the car has probably only served to make it worse.

I need to try harder. He’s worked his whole life for this moment. And I have to stop questioning every last detail.

He pulls to the side of the road, sets the brake, and checks his reflection in the rearview mirror. As I peer through the windshield at the lone car parked on the other side of the place where the roads intersect.

Once again, we have to go to him. He can’t even get out of his car and meet us halfway.

I clamp my lips shut before I can break my vow and put a voice to the thought. My dislike of this man is irrational and better kept to myself. He’s never actually given me a reason to loathe him like this.

“He has another engagement in Albuquerque,” Auden says. “So we need to make this quick.”

“Quick works for me.” I gather my gown in my hands, while Auden leaps from his side and comes around to open my door. A holdover from the days when I couldn’t see, but it’s sweet all the same.

It’s even hotter out here than it was in Enchantment. And with the blanket of clouds overhead, the air feels so heavy it’s like a thermal canopy has been draped over us. Auden folds my hand in his and leads me across the dirt road toward the car with the headlights blazing so bright, I’m forced to lift a hand to my forehead to shield my eyes from the glare.

I lean into his shoulder, seeking comfort in his touch. Determined to enjoy every second I can from this moment on. I’ve already wasted too much time feeling grumpy, and we both deserve better.

Despite Daire having a pretty good plan, despite all of us having studied it again and again until we’ve memorized our parts, there’s no telling how this will end. The least I can do is enjoy every last moment of peace I can find with my boyfriend.

I stop just shy of the car, and say, “I’m happy for you, Auden. I really, truly am. I’m sorry if I made it appear otherwise.”

He drops a kiss on my cheek. “I know, flower.” He grins. “You’re just looking out for me. You’ve always got my back.” Then he leads me the last few steps to the car, where we angle our faces away from the lights, as Luther climbs out of the car.

“Sorry about the glare. It’s so dark out here, I figured we could use the light.” Then looking at me, he says, “Xotichl, wow. I’ve never seen you so radiant.” He grins, extends a hand, and not seeing a viable alternative that wouldn’t be considered inordinately rude, I clasp it in mine. “How are you getting on?” he asks.

I extricate myself from his grip and shoot him an uncertain look, not exactly sure what he means.

“Auden tells me you got your sight back. That must be a truly incredible experience.”

It’s all I can do to nod in reply. The heat is so heavy, the air so thin, it’s rendered me dizzy, light-headed, like I’m two breaths from fainting.

“Going from a world of total darkness to a world of color and light . . . I can’t even imagine how that might feel.”

My eyes graze past his absurd ponytail and double hoop earrings, and focus hard on his lips, trying to determine the color of his words. But his speech flows frustratingly clear. “You’d be surprised,” I say, finally finding my voice. “My world wasn’t nearly as dark as you think.”

He quirks a brow, stares down the bridge of his nose.

The moment of awkwardness is broken when Auden says, “We should probably get started. We’ve got to get to the Rabbit Hole, and I know you need to get to Albuquerque . . .”

Luther turns to him with a look I can’t read. His face obscured when he says, “Right. Let’s get on with it then.”

He leans into his car, reaches across the passenger seat, and returns with a beautiful designer briefcase stuffed with a thick stack of papers he sets on the hood.

“I know, it looks like a lot.” Luther glances at me. “But this should only take a minute. Two at the most. The signature lines are all tagged. All Auden has to do is sign, and you’ll be on your way.”

“You’re not going to at least look them over?” I turn to Auden, assuring myself I’m being supportive, as opposed to mistrusting.

“I’ve already seen ’em. This is just the formality, right?” Auden looks to Luther to verify.

“If you want to read through it again, s’okay by me.” Luther grins in a way that makes his cheeks appear waxy and tight, as though they’re unused to the move. “Don’t worry about me. I can be a few minutes late. After all, Xotichl’s right. This is your future. You can’t be too cautious.”

Auden lifts the stack of papers, does a quick scan of each page. “Looks good,” he says, rooting around in his pocket in search of a pen.

“You serious?” Luther squints at the Bic. “You’re not really planning to sign with that, are you?”

“Cap’s a little chewed, but it works.” Auden looks sheepish, worried he’s already blown it before it’s begun.

“That’s fine for scratching down a song on a napkin, but moments like these deserve something special.” He pulls a shiny black pen from his pocket and hands it to Auden. His eyes glinting as Auden rolls the pen back and forth across his palm.

“Are those sapphires?” He studies the jewel-crusted cap. “Guess that’s the difference between a pen and a writing instrument.” He looks between Luther and me. “This thing probably cost more than my car!”

“Oh, it definitely costs more than your car.” Luther laughs, casting a derisive glance toward Auden’s wreck of a station wagon. “Those are real gems on the cap, the barrel is onyx, and the nub is crafted from gold. Twenty-four karats, at that.”

“And what’s the pattern engraved on it? I can’t quite make it out . . .”

“Sun and moon.”

Auden squints, angles the pen toward the light.

“Got a thing for astronomy.” Luther lifts his shoulder, makes a guilty face. “Anyway . . .” He gestures toward the papers he’s spread across the hood of his car, as Auden slips off the gem-covered cap and prepares for the moment he’s been dreaming of since he was a kid, but ends up flinching instead.

“Ouch!” He jams his thumb between his lips as a drop of blood lands on the contract, just below the signature line. “Didn’t realize it was a fountain pen. I must’ve nicked myself on the tip. And worse, looks like I spilled some blood on the papers.”

Luther waves it away, pulls a freshly pressed handkerchief from his pocket and hands it to Auden. “Most great success requires a little shedding of blood, right? Guess I should’ve warned you, most people don’t use fountain pens anymore, but I like the formality. Anyway, as long as you’re not too badly hurt, I can ignore a few bloodstains. Unless you prefer I come back in a few days with a clean copy?”

“You kidding? I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life. Let’s do this!”

His finger still bleeding, Auden wraps the kerchief around it, and goes about signing the documents. Methodically working his way through the stacks, as Luther turns to me and in a lowered voice, says, “I can’t tell you how I felt when I first heard him play. I knew at that moment I was looking at a future star. The kid’s got the whole package. Looks, talent, the right disposition, a solid work ethic, and a unique sound all his own. Oh, and he’s just hungry and ambitious enough to take it all the way. He’s going to be huge, Xotichl. You sure you’re ready for that level of fame and all that comes with it?”

It’s a strange thing to say in the middle of what’s supposed to be a celebratory moment. And it’s so unexpected, it takes a little longer than I’d like for me to summon my voice. “If you’re referring to long nights on the road and even longer lines of aggressive groupies, I can handle it. I’m secure in Auden’s love, and he’s secure in mine.”

Luther meets my words with a look I can’t read. Then he gathers the papers and shoves them back into his briefcase.

“Great to have you on board, Auden.” I watch as they shake hands. “And Xotichl . . .” He takes my hand in his and brings it to his lips, in a move so smarmy it’s all I can do not to cringe.

Tipping his head, he returns to his car as I wipe my hand against the folds of my gown.

“Hey, Luther—you forgot your pen!” Auden calls after him.

Luther pokes his head out the driver’s side window. “Keep it,” he says.

Auden glances between him and the pen. “You sure?”

Luther nods. “Least I can do, considering what you’re about to do for me. Besides, you’re part of the family now.” He guns the engine and waves, leaving us immersed in a cloud of dust and heat.

“So?” I grab hold of his arm as he leads me back to the car. “You gonna keep it, or sell it on eBay?”

Auden laughs. “Can you imagine this thing costs more than a car?”

“According to Luther, it won’t be long before you’ll be able to afford a hundred more.”

“Just a hundred?” Auden grins, drops a kiss on the tip of my nose. “I’d like a nice house, a better car, but other than that, my needs are pretty simple. It’s a beautiful object, no doubt, but a price tag like that just seems so out of balance, don’t you think?”

He stops beside the car, swings my door open, and motions me in. Unaware that the clouds overhead are beginning to clear. Moving so quickly it’s like they’re racing toward Albuquerque. Their sudden exodus leaving Auden glowing, and luminous, and dripping in starlight. Making for a sight so irresistible, I grasp hold of his lapels and pull him to me. My lips swelling toward his, desperately seeking the assurance that we’ll allow each other to live the journey we deserve. That we’ll never let the fear of losing each other interfere with the people we are destined to be.

It’s a lot to ask from a kiss. But I guess Luther questioning my readiness to deal with Auden’s success left me more disturbed than I cared to let on.

I refuse to be a needy, jealous girlfriend.

I refuse to let Luther’s insinuations take root in my head.

“We did it, flower.” Auden draws away, brushes a palm calloused from years of guitar playing across my cheek. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

He kisses me again, and while I can no longer see the lovely swirls of pinks and golds that once circled our heads, that doesn’t mean they’re not there.

“Wow.” He grins. The kiss has left him as breathless as me.

“Wow, nothing,” I tease. “That was merely a tiny hint of the celebration to come.”

“You mean there’s more?”

“Oh, much more. So much more. More than you could ever imagine.” I push away, slide into the car.

“And exactly how long do I have to wait for this more?”

“Long enough for Daire to take down all the Richters, which, according to her shouldn’t take all that long.”

He kneels beside me, kissing me again with all that he’s got. Drawing away when he says, “Oops, guess I’m still bleeding. Here . . .” He licks his finger and uses it to clear the smudge from my cheek.

Then wrapping the kerchief back around his finger, he heads for his side of the car, and begins the drive back to Enchantment.

TWENTY-FOUR

DAIRE

Getting ready to head out to the Rabbit Hole is like getting ready for prom.

Not that I’ve ever been to prom.

Though I have spent enough time on various promthemed movie sets to know it involves fancy dresses, giddy friends, and a certain amount of nervousness.

What it doesn’t involve is a blowgun stashed in a boot, an athame strapped to a thigh, a buckskin pouch secured to a complicated up-do, and a plan to stamp out evil from the face of the earth.

“What do you think?” Lita stands before the full-length mirror, looking smoldering in her black slinky gown and the Venetian-filigree skull mask embedded with shiny, black crystals.

Axel’s eyes widen, his mouth drops, but no words come, which makes Lita laugh.

“You look lovely.” Jennika directs a final shot of hairspray to her curls, before she stands back to admire her handiwork. “You too, Axel.”

The mask he chose is nearly identical to Lita’s, except his is white to go with his slim-cut white suit that, according to Jennika, was recently worn by one of the world’s leading heartthrobs on a big-budget remake. Not that Axel cares about fashion or Hollywood for that matter. Lita is pretty much the center of his universe. Everything else is just background.

Lita edges out of the way so Jennika can give me a final swipe of lip gloss before adjusting the raven mask. “As your mother, I should probably be concerned about the cut of this dress.” She gestures toward the plunging neckline, which is only slightly more modest than the dip in the back. “But I have to concede you look stunning.” She bites her lip, blinks several times to ward off the tears. “I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

Me too.

Keeping my doubts to myself, I swirl the skirts around my legs, and say, “Think he’ll like it?” I watch as the color seems to shift from orange to burgundy to a rich, deep scarlet.

“I hope that was supposed to be a joke.” Lita frowns. “But either way, you are freaking me out.” She glares at me through the mirror, and I remind myself she speaks more out of concern than anger. “I’m worried about you.” She softens her tone along with her stance. “We all are . . .” She shakes her head, leaves the rest unsaid. “And I see you’re still wearing your key. Unless you plan to leave it behind?” Her voice rises with hope that’s soon dashed when I shake my head and center the black silk cord at my chest. Though when I pull the blue tourmaline ring from a pocket hidden deep in the folds of my dress, and ease it onto my finger, she clutches a hand to her throat and sags against Axel as though she’s seconds from fainting. “Oh my freaking Opossum—is that what I think?” She fans herself with her hand, her reaction a little overdramatic, thought I guess it’s not completely unwarranted. “Why am I the only one reacting?” She glances between Axel and Jennika. “Did you guys know about this?”

Axel shakes his head while Jennika reluctantly nods in assent.

“So, it was a secret?” Though most of her face is obscured by the mask, her voice betrays her annoyance.

“Listen . . .” I turn away from the mirror to better address them. Guess it’s time to explain before this gets any worse. “I need you to trust me. I know what I’m doing. Seeing me in this dress wearing this ring is the last thing Cade expects. It’ll throw him completely off his game, which will allow me just enough leverage to get a head start.”

Lita studies the toe of her shoes, as Jennika picks at the hem of her sweater. And while that’s not exactly the picture of solidarity I was after, at the moment, it’s all that I’ve got and it’s time to get moving. “So what do you say we head out and put our plan into action?”

Axel’s the first to react, steering Lita toward the door as Jennika follows. “I’ll be here if you need me,” she says. “I’m not leaving this place until you’ve safely returned. And if by chance you don’t . . .” She swallows hard, squeezes my hand so tightly my knuckles crack in protest. “Then I’ll go after those Richters myself. And trust me, not a single one of them wants to deal with me when I’m angry.” Her gaze is fierce, the tilt of her chin determined, leaving no doubt she means every word.

Wanting it to be the look I take with me, I say a quick good night, and head for Lita’s car.

The first thing I notice when we get to the Rabbit Hole is the abundance of floodlights. As though anyone could possibly miss it in a one-club town.

The second thing I notice is how those floodlights reflect off the glossy black onyx exterior, making it shine as bright and imposing as a monolith.

Last I was here, it was still partially concealed by the barricades. But now that it’s unveiled, it’s abundantly clear that the days of humble adobe are gone. This new Rabbit Hole is modern, sleek, and twice the size of the last one. The lack of windows and cool, stone walls giving it the look and feel of a massive mausoleum, which, I guess in a way it is. The material specifically chosen to impart staying power and strength while serving to house the spirits of Richters long past.

Though, as I already know from my previous visit, the real transformation happens inside.

Lita whistles under her breath. “Sheesh—I feel like I’ve been teleported to someplace way better than Enchantment. It’s so luxe and loungey, and . . . I hate to admit it, but it really is pretty amazing.”

I take a good look around, noting how different it looks from the night I broke in, when I was forced to find my way using the dim, yellow glow of the security lights.

Until Dace and Leandro arrived, and I clung to the shadows in a bid to remain undetected.

And though I did manage to sneak out without being caught, I’m convinced that Dace saw me.

There was a moment in the hall, just a handful of steps from each other. And though it took all of my will not to barrel straight into his arms, I know beyond a doubt he sensed my presence just as surely as I sensed his.

The fact that he chose not to alert Leandro provides a small shred of hope that I cling to.

It’s the hope that’s carried me through the loneliness of time spent without him.

It’s the hope I will lean on tonight.

Dace is still on my side. Despite what everyone thinks, he’s determined to help me.

Our love is enough to conquer the beast.

“Not as crowded as I thought it would be.” I shake free of the thought and check out the bar with the mosaic snake sculpture hanging overhead, the glass tiles shimmering in a way that makes it appear to be slithering.

Lita grasps Axel’s wrist, checking the time on the watch she gave him for their three-month anniversary. “Trust me, they’ll show. No self-respecting denizen of Enchantment would miss a chance to dress up and guzzle free drinks. Another ten minutes and we’ll be fighting for space.”

As it turns out, it’s only five minutes later when the room begins to fill, and Lita points toward the door. “Isn’t that Jacy and Crickett?” She nods in their direction. “I haven’t seen them since last New Year’s Eve. Funny how even with the masks, it’s easy to spot them.”

“You should go talk to them.” I follow her gaze, watching as her former friends nervously fuss at their hair and cling to their dates. The tourmaline pendants they received in the New Year’s Eve swag bags hanging from their necks, much like all the other women in the room, while, according to Lita, the men got leather bracelets with tourmaline chunks woven in.

Lita crinkles her nose, wanting me to know she doesn’t like the assignment. “We have nothing in common. I wouldn’t even know what to say. Besides, shouldn’t we wait for Auden and Xotichl? They should’ve been here by now.”

“Xotichl sent me a text. They’re running late. But they’ll be here.”

“They better be.” Lita frowns. “We’ve got a lot depending on them.”

“I’ll handle that, you handle them.” I nod toward her former friends. “There’s a good chance they might know something useful. Last time I saw them, they were definitely under Cade’s spell. For all I know, they still are.” When she continues to hesitate, I add, “In case you haven’t noticed, they’re totally staring at Axel. You may as well give them a better look.”

Lita’s eyes gleam from the other side of her mask. The chance to gloat in front of her former friends is too good to miss. After taking a moment to adjust Axel’s lapels and push a stray curl into place, she marches him across the room, leaving me to wander free on my own.

I move among the clusters of low-slung banquettes, past the large, iron sculptures that look just like trees, until I stop, frozen in place, with legs turned to lead.

My mouth goes dry.

A shiver slips over my skin.

While my knees tremble ever so slightly.

Just like the dream, I feel him before I see him.

But when I turn to acknowledge him, his dark, fathomless eyes are all I need to see to know part of him is missing.

He’s already transitioning into the beast he’s destined to be.

I press a hand flat against the bodice of my dress and fight to steady myself. Determined to speak my piece while I can.

“Dace—” I start, but he’s quick to interrupt me.

“You look beautiful.” His gaze seeks mine, but with his eyes no longer reflecting, I can’t bear the sight of it. “You’re truly a vision. Stunning—breathtaking—ravishing . . .”

When I close my eyes, I can easily pretend that nothing has changed. But the moment I open them, the illusion is gone, and I find myself wishing he’d stop.

I clear my throat, lift my chin, and center my gaze just to the right of him. Disappointed that he doesn’t seem to realize what I’ve done. Doesn’t recognize my gown as the one I described from the dream. Doesn’t find it the least bit odd that I’m wearing red to a black-and-white ball. Leaving me to wonder what else he’s forgotten—about me—about us.

“Thanks,” I say, my voice tight and clipped. “I’m surprised you don’t recognize it—it came from your brother.” Dace’s face darkens, his eyes so feral and red, it prompts me to move on. “You’re not wearing a mask.”

He rubs a hand over his chin, a holdover from the Dace I once knew. “Trust me, Daire, I am. It’s all I can do to maintain this face—you don’t want to see my other one. I pray you won’t have to.”

I straighten my spine, square my resolve, but it doesn’t do a thing to make me feel better. The sight of Dace struggling makes my heart ache. I need to find a way to appeal to him, remind him of the light still residing inside . . .

His gaze slips down the length of me, pausing on the deep V of my gown before focusing on the small golden key resting at the center of my chest. His expression so guarded, I can’t help but wonder what he might’ve done with his. Is he still wearing it? And, more importantly, does he remember what it once meant?

“Dace,” I say, my voice urgent, afraid of losing him completely. “The other night, when you caught me breaking in, why’d you let me go? What kept you from telling Leandro?”

His eyes close. His hands curl to fists. His struggle so palpable, I decide to drop it and instead tip onto my toes, press my lips to his ear, and whisper so that only he can hear. “Please try to remember who you really are. Please try to remember that you weren’t always like this. You and I are fated for each other, but not in the way the beast wants. You have to fight him, Dace. You have to come back to me—to us. Together we can beat Coyote and forge the future we want. Please, Dace, don’t let go of your light.” I draw away, eagerly reading his gaze, only to find my words fell on deaf ears.

Aside from his red glowing eyes, he looks pretty much the same. But inside, he’s guided by instinct, a shard of memory, and a beast so sordid and sinister it would just as soon kill me.

He cocks his head, shoots me a curious look. But I drop my hand to my side and take a step back. I can love him with all of my heart, and I do. But for the first time ever, I realize I can’t do it alone—it takes two to make this work.

My eyes glitter more brightly than I’d like, and with my throat so scratchy and dry, I have to push the words past. “Please don’t ever forget that it’s your belief in your darkness that snuffs out your light. You may have made the wrong choice—but you did so for all the right reasons. You did it for me—for us—and it’s not over yet. You still have the choice to save yourself. But, if you continue like this, no amount of light, no matter how insistent, could ever penetrate the walls you’ve raised to block it. They’re your walls, Dace. Which means you’re the only one capable of knocking them down.”

He meets my words with a cold, vacant stare, and I turn away, having done all that I can.

It may not look at all like I’d hoped, but it’s time to put my plan into action.

TWENTY-FIVE

DACE

“Saw you talking to the Seeker. What’s going on there?”

I watch Daire cross the room, like a blaze of red in a sea of dull nothings. “Turns out, I was wrong about her.” I find Leandro’s gaze from behind his ridiculous coyote mask, holding the look for as long as it takes to determine my truth.

He slaps an arm around my shoulder, chuckling as though I’ve made him inordinately proud. “If you knew how many times I’ve said that about a woman!” He laughs a conspiratorial laugh. “Still, they do have their uses.” He winks for emphasis, as though I might’ve missed the implication.

“Exactly how many times?” I ask, my voice as humorless as my gaze.

“What?” His forehead creases. The mirth fades from his face.

“Exactly how many times have you said that?”

He studies me closely, unsure how to react. Unsure of me. So I force my expression into one of solidarity. As though we’re just two guys comparing our trophies. Which gets him to relax just enough to give me the answer I seek.

“Hundreds,” he says. “Thousands.” His eyes shine with the memory of an endless stream of conquests, and I can’t help but wonder if my mother is featured among them. “In other words, you have a lot of catching up to do, son. But not to worry, I know just where to start . . .”

He squeezes my shoulder, starts to lead me across the room, but I’ve no interest in hooking up with anyone from Leandro’s stable.

“What’s your problem?” He glares, clenches his jaw.

“Guess I’m not as much like you as you thought.”

His features sharpen, his lips flatten with unspoken fury.

“I like to work for it. Feel a sense of accomplishment. It’s no fun when it comes too easily.”

He pauses. Waits a few beats to see if there’s more. Then, determining it’s just me being weird, he throws his head back and roars.

“You are full of surprises,” he says.

“You have no idea.” I force a grin.

“What happened to your mask?” He casts a critical eye at my face. “You really shouldn’t be walking around like that.” He motions toward my red glowing eyes. “You’re going to scare people. I told Cade to leave you one in your office.” His gaze darkens as he looks around the club for his most disappointing son. Ready to call him out on the grievous offense the second he spots him.

“He left it.” I shrug. “I choose not to wear it.”

“In case you’ve forgotten, you’re a member of Coyote now.” Leandro leans toward me, his voice low and menacing. “It was sealed in the ceremony.”

The ceremony. How could I forget? What may be commonplace dark magick for them was all new to me. Bearing no resemblance to anything Leftfoot ever taught me. And while the beast in me was delighted, it took every ounce of will left over from the old me to keep them from actually killing a real horse to symbolize the death of my former spirit animal. Which also raised some suspicions.

“I’m much more than Coyote,” I say. “I’m about to surpass every last one of you.”

“That may be true, but there’s still one thing left to do. And until that time comes, don’t you forget I’m the one in charge around here.” The words are as sharp as they’re intended to be.

Still one thing left to do . . .

I close my eyes, lift my chin high, and inhale long and deep. Scenting my brother among the throngs of bodies. He reeks of anger, vengeance, and the endless loop of revenge fantasies he needs to sustain him. But the truth is, he’s pathetic, weak, and sorely lacking the appropriate amount of fear for someone in such a precarious state.

Then again, he has no idea of what’s to become of him.

No idea Leandro has designated him as the one to kill so I can make the transition into my destiny.

“Here.” Leandro removes his mask and thrusts it at me. “I insist that you wear it.”

Knowing better than to protest, which will only serve to arouse his suspicions more than I already have, I snap it onto my head and return my focus to my brother, tracking his every move through the eyes of Coyote.

TWENTY-SIX

DAIRE

With Dace under Leandro’s wing, Lita and Axel talking with Jacy and Crickett, and Xotichl and Auden expected to arrive any moment, I weave through the crowd in search of the vortex. Needing to at least be in the general vicinity long before the Richters can reach it, I retrace the path I memorized the night I broke in. Not entirely sure I’m on the right track since Dace and Leandro’s unexpected arrival kept me from actually locating it.

Still, I’m sure it exists. Portals are contrived of the purest form of energy. They can be blocked, but never destroyed.

All around me, throngs of people continue to gather. Seemingly immune to the lingering vibration of pain and destruction—the evil wrought, the lives lost (including Phyre)—that occurred here through the years.

For me, the sensation weighs heavily. You can level a structure and rebuild from scratch, but the energy of past events never quite dissipates. The essence remains. And the Richters’ use of black onyx ensures those memories are sealed for eternity.

I pause near the spot where Dace found me, and when the tourmaline ring starts to warm, I take it as a sign that I’m either in the presence of the vortex, or that Cade Richter has lured me into his trap.

Figuring it’s a win either way, I move forward. Instantly aware of a shift in the atmosphere, a heightened vibration, I gather my skirts and pick up the pace. Making it only part of the way when I’m stopped by a shaky hand with clammy fingers grabbing hold of my wrist.

Cade.

Cade is here. The vortex is near. Leaving me with no clear idea of just who’s controlling this stone.

He jerks me back against him, nudges his nose into the hollow of my neck, and drags a long, steady breath. “Nothing like the scent of Raven at night,” he says, his voice betraying an uneven pitch. “Though I must say, you do look enchanting.” He twists hard on my arm, turns me to face him. “Still, I can’t help but wonder where you’re headed in such a hurry?”

I wrench free of his grip, put a more comfortable distance between us. Rubbing the place on my wrist where his fingers left marks, I bite back a scowl and force myself to play along. “Where do you think I’m going?”

“I would hope you were looking for me.” He grins in a way that pulls his lips tightly, creases his eyes until they’re just barely visible, and causes his head to jerk to the right. Making him appear manic, more than a little demented, and I’m not sure what to make of it.

The sinister, snide, mocking Cade is the one that I’m used to. The one I can deal with. This unbalanced version is a bit of a mystery.

“It’s good to see you, Daire. I didn’t think you’d come.” He casts his gaze downward, drags his mask over his face as though caught in the grips of a sudden bout of shyness.

“Hard to pass up such an interesting invite,” I reply, studying his intricately detailed mask bearing a silver moon eclipsing a golden sun.

When Shadow eclipses Sun—the Seer shall fall

The choice is no accident. The message anything but subtle. It’s Cade’s way of telling me he knows about the prophecy—that he considers himself the Shadow, destined to rule.

“So you liked the invitation? I wasn’t sure if you would.” He lifts his chin, regards me with a hopeful gaze. His energy so chaotic, I can’t get a read.

“What’s not to like?” I grin flirtatiously, choose my words carefully. Convinced the slightest misstep will set him off, and it’s a risk I can’t take. For now, it’s best to play his game his way.

“I worried the raven might send the wrong message, but I’m glad you could see past all of that and glean its true meaning.” His eyes are shrewd and appraising. “It was meant to be symbolic, as you’ve clearly figured out. Something which, I have to admit, makes me inordinately proud.”

I nod encouragingly, needing to hear more. I have no idea where he’s going with this.

“It’s the end of our old roles, Daire. It’s time we shed Coyote and Raven and move into a new day. It’s time for Richter and Santos to join. With the kind of power we wield, the possibilities are endless. You and I could rule the world. And the thing is—I know that we’re ready. Your presence here tonight, wearing the dress and the mask that I sent, well, clearly you feel it too.”

My smile grows tighter, but he’s so caught up in his delusional world he doesn’t seem to notice my struggle to keep this farce going.

It’s hardly the first time he’s tried to convince me to join his quest for world domination. Still, he’s never been quite so . . . earnestly poetic before.

My gaze runs the length of his crisp white tux, his bloodred bow tie and cummerbund. Funny how Dace chose to wear black and his brother white. Yin and Yang, just like Cade stated in the dream where he slipped the blue tourmaline ring onto my finger.

“I understood immediately.” I lean toward him, hoping to foster a sense of intimacy and trust. “But what I can’t help but wonder is whether you broke Coyote’s neck as well? You know, as a symbolic gesture to signal the end of your role.” I adopt an innocent expression as though I’m merely curious and not at all baiting him.

“I’m embarrassed to say that it didn’t even occur to me. But, now that you’ve mentioned it, it makes perfect sense.” His gaze glimmers. It actually glimmers. And if I peer close enough, I can catch the tiniest bit of my reflection staring back.

I blink once, twice, ensuring it really is true—that Cade’s eyes actually mirror in the way Dace’s once did.

The startling sight, combined with his willingness to kill his beloved Coyote in an effort to please me, forces me to reevaluate everything I thought I knew about him.

While it’s never been clear how a spirit animal’s death might affect its owner, considering Cade and Dace’s mystical connection, I can’t take the chance. “I don’t think that’s necessary,” I purr, touching his arm briefly, before using the momentum of a group of people brushing past to take a tiny step back, inching closer to what I hope is the vortex.

“It’s your call, Daire.” His voice catches on my name in a way that’s unnerving, as though it elicits untold emotion. “You’re probably surprised to hear me say that, but how else can I convey the seriousness of my offer? Besides, you’ve pleased me immensely by wearing the dress and the mask. I never imagined you’d actually go through with it—and I have to say, it looks even better than I dreamed.” He pushes his mask high onto his forehead, filling his eyes with the sight of me. Not seeming to notice the space slowly increasing between us.

“I could never reject a gift of such generosity and beauty. I felt like Cinderella the moment I slipped it on and saw how perfectly it fit.” I gaze down the bodice, to the deep V, and smile shyly, all the while risking another step back.

Cade’s gaze follows mine. His fingers twitching, his weight shifting from foot to foot. His movements as awkward and jerky as a marionette with loose strings.

“Yet, I did find it odd that you chose a red gown for a black-and-white ball.” My right foot slides back. The left one soon meets it. “I couldn’t quite make sense of that. Care to explain?”

“Easy.” He grins, causing his eyes to flash clear and bright. “You’re not like the rest of them, Daire. Girl like you should always stand out in a crowd.” He centers his gaze on my chest, and I have to fight every instinct not to move my arm to cover it. Though it’s not long before he catches me looking and drops his gaze to his feet, doing the shy act again. Which is strange enough in and of itself, but when I catch sight of his fingers trembling and clenching by his sides, it’s a sure sign of the strange inner conflict that rages inside. “The mask—the dress—I had them made especially for you.” He scrapes the sole of his shoe against the stone-tiled floor. “But you really need to toss that ridiculous key. It’s ruining the look.” He lifts his gaze to meet mine, and I watch the glimmer fade until he’s back to being the Cade that I’m used to. The dark, overconfident Cade. The one whose eyes absorb everything around him. “And what’s with the shoes?” He thrusts a disapproving finger toward Jennika’s designer motorcycle boots peeking out from the hem.

“You don’t approve?” I sneak the hem up just a bit, allowing for a better look. The scowl on his face telling me I’ve only succeeded in making it worse. “Well, on the plus side, they’re a lot easier to run in than stilettos.”

His fists curl tighter. “And what exactly are you running from?”

“Well, normally, that would be you. But, here you are, right here before me, and I wouldn’t even consider it.” I press a hand to the outside of my thigh, ready to summon my athame should I need it. Peering past his shoulder as Auden goes through a series of sound checks and the crowd starts to head for the dance floor. Won’t be much longer until he heaves his last breath.

“Somehow, your words fail to convince. No matter what I do, you still see me as the enemy,” he says, so lost in the thought, he fails to notice when someone bumps into him and sends him reeling into my space.

So much for the progress I made.

“I assure you, that’s hardly the case.” I wiggle my fingers by my side, hoping for a tingle of energy, some kind of hint that I’m on the right track, that somewhere nearby a portal awaits.

“If only I could believe that.” He cocks his head, shoots me a suspicious look.

“Well, for starters, I’m here, wearing the dress, and talking to you.” I chance another step back, wishing Auden would just get to it already and get the plan underway.

“True.” Cade moves along with me. Either in an effort to stay close, or he’s totally onto me, it’s impossible to tell.

“And, I’m doing everything I mentioned despite the fact that you’re responsible for my grandmother’s death. That’s got to mean something.” I stand firmly before him, the vortex now just a few feet away according to the energetic swarm playing at the back of my hands. And while I have every intention of breaching it, I need to get there long before Cade. It’s his job to chase me.

He dismisses my words with a shrug. “I know what she meant to you, but Paloma was determined to keep us apart, and you have to admit, we wouldn’t be here now, just you and me, if I hadn’t killed her.” His delivery so matter of fact, I know without a doubt that whatever is going on with him is far worse than I thought. The old Cade would’ve taunted me to no end. Detailing exactly how much he enjoyed killing her. This new Cade is completely unpredictable, which makes him even more dangerous.

“I loved her,” I say, knowing I shouldn’t push it, shouldn’t veer from the script. But it’s impossible to fake my feelings where Paloma’s passing is concerned. Besides, it’s just a matter of time before Cade Richter is history. “Not a day goes by I don’t miss her,” I add. Despite Chay’s warnings, with each spoken word I can feel my anger mounting until it’s all I can do to keep it in check. “Yet, it’s true that Paloma never would’ve understood these . . . feelings . . . we share for each other.” The words taste bitter on my tongue.

Cade makes a conciliatory face and reaches for my hand, and as repulsive as I find him, I need to play along for just a few seconds more.

“People die, Daire.” He huffs under his breath, his face reddens with outrage, as though angered by the lack of justice in the world—as though he doesn’t actually wear Paloma’s blood on his hands. “It’s the circle of life. You, more than anyone should know that. Sheesh.” He drops my hand, his fists curl in outrage. The burst of anger lasting only a moment, before he softens and says, “It hurts, I know. But I’m so glad to see you getting past it and focusing on the future you deserve.”

I cast my eyes downward, use the pause to sneak another step back.

“You’ve lost so many so quickly, it almost seems unfair. Still, there’s a reason for everything and each step leads to the next. Now that you’re on your own, with Paloma gone, Dace having moved on, and Jennika—”

“What about Jennika?” I cut him off before he can finish. The sound of my mom’s name on his lips is enough to make me forfeit my whole plan and kill him right here.

“Relax.” He slips the mask over his face and laughs, making a strange, muffled sound. “I was just about to say that even Jennika will one day move on. Jeez, Daire, when’d you get so sensitive?”

But the way his head tilts, the way his voice catches, leaves me to wonder if that’s all there is to it. He’s unstable. Untrustworthy. Which makes him capable of just about anything.

“Anyway, enough of all this. It’s time we set aside our differences. Come.” He reaches for my hand again. “You’re lucky I found you when I did. Do you know there’s a kill order issued with your name on it?”

“Yeah. You’re the one who issued it. Remember?” I drop the façade, having reached my limits for him and his madness.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You have no idea what’s really going on here. But, if you stick with me, you just might get out alive.”

I look past Cade’s outstretched hand and glance toward the stage.

The game is over.

The plan is in motion.

And little does he know, I’ve got him right where I want him.

With the sound checks complete, Auden introduces the band, as Xotichl uses the amethyst pendulum she wears at her neck to locate the Richters. While Lita plucks two of the three feathers in her hair and uses them to enhance herself, Auden, Xotichl, and Axel with magickal and transformative powers, saving the eagle feather—the one for sending wishes and prayers—for later. And Axel pulls the rattle from Lita’s bag and readies it before him, waiting for Auden to launch into his song.

When he reaches the drum solo, Auden butts the head of his guitar into Paloma’s drum he’s propped up beside him, as Axel shakes the rattle. The two of them sending a mystical vibration throughout the room, as I brace myself, praying it works.

This is it.

There is no plan B.

I close my eyes for a moment, say a little prayer of my own, and when I open them again, I turn on my heel to see that it worked.

The vortex is just a few steps behind me, and thanks to the drum and the rattle, it’s visibly illuminated in a way only my friends and I can see.

I spin on my heel, begin to sprint toward it, when Cade grabs hold of the back of my dress and I respond with a fist aimed straight for his jaw. My knuckles slamming hard into his flesh, sending him reeling, spinning, slamming onto the floor with his mask knocked clear across the hall.

Though it’s only a matter of time before he’s on me again—or at least that’s the plan.

I need him to chase me.

But not before I put a solid distance between us.

Freeing my buckskin pouch from my hair, I loop it around my neck, gather my skirts in my hands, and charge through the vortex.

TWENTY-SEVEN

XOTICHL

Auden steps away from the drum, and leaps from the stage. Grasping my hand tightly in his, we run alongside Lita and Axel in a race toward the vortex, while the Richters race to catch up.

Problem is they’re not exactly alone. From the looks of things, they’re taking half the club with them.

The idea was to lure the Richters on a chase through the portal while the elders worked their magick to block off the exits. Ensuring the safety of the citizens of Enchantment, while trapping Cade, Leandro, and the rest of them to deal with Daire’s wrath, while we serve as backup in case she should need it.

But with all of these people joining in on the chase, it’s not going as planned.

Lita shoots a worried look over her shoulder, searching for Auden and me, but a crush of people rush past, and the next thing I know, I’ve lost Auden’s grip and I’m stumbling straight for the floor. My hands out before me, just about to connect, when someone hitches onto the back of my dress and yanks me to safety. Sparing me from what surely would’ve been a case of death by trampling.

“Thank you.” I push my hair from my eyes and fight to catch my breath. “I think you may have just saved my life.”

“Perhaps it’s me who should be thanking you.”

I look into the face of a man with black, opaque eyes and a hideous grin. Despite the evidence before me, I tell myself it’s not what I think. I’m clearly imagining things.

“I thought you were going to Albuquerque?” I take a quick inventory of his squinty mean gaze, absurd middle-aged ponytail, and wannabe hipster double-hoop earrings. Could only be Luther.

“Turns out I was needed here.” His grin grows as wide and empty as the look in his eyes.

“Who needed you—Auden?” My gut churns with dread as my mind searches for an easy explanation.

“Auden?” He makes a face of distaste. “No, flower. As it turns out, Auden’s offered all that he can. Gotta admire his level of ambition though. If you must know, it was Leandro who called.”

My gut roils, practically screaming I told you so! “How do you know Leandro? I don’t understand.” Though the second it’s out, I realize I do. In fact, I’m beginning to understand more than I ever wanted to.

“Oh, but you’re beginning to understand now, aren’t you, flower? Clever girl that you are. The record company I work for is owned by the Richters. Leandro’s my cousin. Thought for sure you would’ve figured that out. But I guess you can’t really see nearly as well as you used to. You can’t really see much of anything, can you? Or at least nothing of any real importance or depth. So sad to watch someone with so much power, and so much unlimited potential, become as dumbed down as everyone else in this town.”

“You did this! You’re behind this!”

“While I’d love to claim all the credit, turns out it was all you. Think, flower, what was always the one thing that kept us from altering your perception until now?”

My stomach clenches, a stream of bile rises high in my throat.

My blindness.

As Paloma once told me, The Richters need your sight to alter your perception. If you can learn to look upon your blindness as a blessing, I can teach you how to see that which remains hidden to most . . .

“Oh, and it goes even deeper.” He grasps my hand in his, and before I can stop him, he sends a stream of images into my head. Images so awful, so horrific, my knees buckle and give.

No.

My hands find the floor.

The rest of me follows.

No, it can’t be!

I look up, my gaze pleading with his. “You have to undo it! You have to—”

He looms over me. Shoots me a malevolent grin. “A signed contract is binding. A contract sealed with blood is binding for eternity. And, speaking of blood—” He reaches toward me, swipes a thick finger across my cheek. Tracing over the exact same place where Auden accidentally bled on me. “Looks like someone’s been marked.” His sardonic laughter bleats in my head. “Turns out, this was one of my best, and surprisingly easiest gets. A twofer—who would’ve guessed?” He ducks his head. “Now, if you don’t mind, I hear there are worlds to breach, not to mention a Seeker to kill. Can’t think of a better way to celebrate the end of your world!”

He races toward the vortex, vanishing as quickly as he appeared. As I struggle to my feet, struggle to digest this hideous turn of events. Vaguely aware of a hand shooting out from behind me, as a hurried voice says, “There you are, flower. I’ve been looking all over for you!”

And before I can respond, Auden is pulling me through the glimmering veil.

TWENTY-EIGHT

LITA

I glance over my shoulder, searching for Xotichl and Auden. Catching only a fleeting glimpse of them, before a surge of people intervene and they seem to vanish from sight.

Where are all these people going? This wasn’t part of the plan!

I look at Axel, wondering if he’s thinking the same thing as I am. But he just tightens his grip and pulls me past the shimmering veil where we pause long enough to get our bearings and confirm this is nothing at all like it was the last time I visited.

Whenever there’s a party at the Rabbit Hole, the Richters like to host their own private party within the party. It’s considered a big deal to get an invite, mostly because it’s all very cloak and dagger and shrouded in mystery. Involving things like blindfolds and cigarettes which, I later learned, were used to appease the demons guarding the entrance.

But now it’s nothing like that.

Not only are there no demons, but what was once a bizarre luxury cave with gilded antique furniture and priceless pieces of art is now just a burned-out shell leading to a wasteland of mile after mile of dull yellow sand that, according to Daire—who gave specific instructions to get through the tin walkway, the luxury cave, and then the second vortex beyond that leads to the valley of sand—isn’t supposed to come until later.

“The landscape’s all wrong.” I cling tightly to Axel, afraid of losing him in the throngs of people rushing around us, seemingly with no real direction in mind. Their eyes glazed, their movements jerky, almost robotic, as though they’re not quite acting of their own accord.

“That’s the least of what’s wrong.” Axel’s features sharpen, his eyes crease with worry. “Check out the tourmaline pendants those girls are wearing.”

I follow his gaze to see the gems glowing, blinking, as though a magickal switch was turned on.

“Jacy and Crickett are wearing those pendants—and Daire has the ring—we have to help them!” I’m filled with adrenaline, motivated by my need to rescue them all, until I take a good look at my surroundings, watching as the world descends into chaos, and realize I’m way out of my league. This goes far beyond any abilities a couple of feathers might’ve bestowed upon me. “This is a disaster!” My shoulders sink, my eyes burn, I’m falling apart, succumbing to the pressure, along with the growing certainty that it’s about to get worse. “How could this happen, when it was all going as planned?”

Axel responds with a grave face, as he pulls me alongside him through the valley of sand. “Looks like the Richters were in control all along.”

TWENTY-NINE

DACE

When the drum sounds, when the vortex illuminates, Leandro lifts his drink high and clinks his glass against mine. “Just like clockwork.” He grins, takes a final sip, and abandons his scotch on the bar. “Would you like to do the honors?”

I shake my head, causing him to doubt me again.

“You go first,” I say, in an effort to appease him. “But go easy on her. Don’t be too rough. I have a big finale planned for the end. And I want the Seeker lucid enough to enjoy it.”

Leandro’s grin grows wider. I’m finally speaking his language. “Just so you know, Gabe will want a shot at her. Heck, Marliz too. She’s always hated her.”

“Then they better get in line. And you better get moving before she gets too much of a head start.”

With a face filled with fatherly pride, he takes a moment to pat me on the back then he’s gone in a flash. Leaving me to study my brother from across the room. Still lying prone in the hall where Daire punched him.

Get up, fool.

His head swings. His eyes veer toward mine.

If I didn’t know better, I’d think that he heard.

“Leandro’s right.” I move toward him, closing the distance in a handful of steps. “You’re an embarrassment to all of us.”

He glares, curses under his breath, and struggles to his feet. His jaw marked by Daire’s fist. His mind a torment of heartbreak and rage.

Killing him is going to be ridiculously easy.

I brush past him on my way to the vortex. Knocking his shoulder so hard he stumbles, loses his balance, nearly ends up right back on the floor. “Get a grip,” I tell him. “Leandro’s going after the Seeker, and you’re in enough trouble already. If you’re smart, you’ll get moving and get to her first.”

THIRTY

DAIRE

The sand comes too soon. And what’s worse is there’s even more of it than the last time I was here.

Still, I try to stay positive. Try to assure myself that while it’s not quite what I was expecting, it might prove better this way. If nothing else, it ensures there’s no place for the Richters to hide.

I close my eyes, lift my arms to my sides, and indulge a moment of quiet, contented solitude. Knowing the elders are out there, working their magick and closing the exits, while my friends are on their way to provide backup in case I should need it.

Though I don’t plan to need it.

Aside from the sand, the whole thing is going according to plan.

Soon, very soon, I will avenge every last Seeker who was ever felled by a Richter.

El Coyote will be begging for mercy.

As the head of the clan, Leandro is first on my list, with Cade following closely behind.

The roar of feet pounding in the distance tells me they’re well on their way. The moment I’ve been waiting for about to come to fruition.

My heart thrums with anticipation.

I center my focus, and ready my blade.

Having waited so long for this moment, I can hardly believe that it’s here.

I wave my athame high over my head, signaling to my friends that all is well. It may not look like we planned but there is nothing to fear.

“Keep running!” I shout. “Make for the hill and wait for me there.”

On the lookout for Lita, Axel, Xotichl, and Auden, only to discover my friends aren’t there—it’s the crowd from the party instead.

A tsunami of masked people in formal attire cresting straight for me. Their tourmaline pendants and bracelets flashing and blinking as they plod through the sand as though driven by an outside force.

With only a few feet left spanning between us, the ground gives way, the sand collapses, and we’re sucked deep into the earth. Careening toward the Lowerworld where we crash in a heap of disjointed bodies.

I free myself from a tangle of limbs and scramble for my knife that came loose in the fall.

My fingertips are barely grazing the hilt when Leandro captures it with the heel of his boot, looms up before me, and says, “Thanks, Seeker. That went exactly as planned.”

THIRTY-ONE

DAIRE

Leandro glowers before me.

Kicks my athame well out of reach.

That one simple move signaling my plan is a fail—and yet, there’s no denying I’ve got him right where I want him. Now all I need is my knife.

I flatten my palm, splay my fingers to the side, and try to summon my athame. The familiar tingling sensation crawling over my flesh a sure sign it’s working, until Leandro hooks a mean right that lands squarely on my jaw.

My head snaps back, my feet fly up from under me, as my body spirals toward the dirt, and my mind reels with the absurdity of what I’m now facing: My boyfriend is a demon and his father just clocked me.

I roll onto my side, blinking past the constellation of stars swirling past, to see Leandro leading an army of demons, Richters, and anesthetized partygoers on a rampage through the very land I vowed to protect.

The Lowerworld is in chaos.

The Upperworld will soon follow.

Turns out, when Auden beat Paloma’s drum, it didn’t illuminate only the Rabbit Hole portal like we’d planned.

It illuminated all of the portals.

Swinging those glowing doorways wide open—allowing the Richters an all-access pass to dimensions long denied them.

Once again, Coyote was one step ahead.

Orchestrating, if not second-guessing, my every move.

With the crowd quickly dispersing and Leandro long gone, I get to my feet, retrieve my athame, and duck behind a small grove of trees, where I hope to go unnoticed until I can figure a way to regroup.

Reaching for the buckskin pouch at my neck, convinced that if there was ever a time to call upon the aid of my ancestors and talismans, it’s now, I remember something Paloma once told me: Someday you will need to call on us like never before—use your light.

Well, I’m using my light, my talismans, my will, my intent—I’m using every trick my grandmother taught me, and calling to them with all that I’ve got. But after a few moments of silence, there’s still no sign of them. Not even Raven comes to my aid.

I’m alone.

Truly alone.

Just like the lone raven that soared above Paloma’s grave the day I buried her.

Seems my ancestors, along with my spirit animal, are dead set on ignoring me.

I push away from the trees, determined to locate my friends and do what I can to gain some semblance of control, when Chay whispers my name from a few feet away.

“Our magick failed.” He lumbers toward me. His face grief-stricken, hand clutching his side. “We were down here working. It was all going as planned. But then . . .” His voice fades, both of us knowing there’s no need to finish when the evidence surround us.

“It’s a disaster,” I say. “I thought I had it all under control, but once again, Coyote was pulling the strings.”

I start to yank the tourmaline ring from my finger, convinced Chay was right. I never should’ve made him dig it up. It’s only served to enable Coyote by allowing them direct access to me.

“Don’t.” He shakes his head, places a hand on my arm, as I shoot him a questioning look. “If it’s truly working against you, then it won’t be long before the Richters find you. They’ll want to celebrate breaching the three worlds by killing the Seeker. Which means you still have a chance to get to them before they get to you.”

“Leandro already had a go at me.” I rub the sore spot on my face where his fist met my jaw. “But then he took off. Guess raiding the Upperworld held more appeal.”

“He won’t be the one to kill you. He’ll save that particular victory for one of his sons.” The words are spoken in a straightforward manner, though his eyes betray the magnitude of his grief.

“How altruistic of him.” I roll my eyes, crack a sardonic grin, noting the way Chay grimaces in response. “How do you know so much, anyway?” I study him carefully, convinced there’s more going on than he’s willing to share.

“As a veterinarian, and a life-long citizen of Enchantment, let’s just say I’m well-versed in the ways of Coyote. I always figured this day would come.”

“It was fated.” I shut my eyes tightly, briefly; the words cut to the bone. Remembering the day I first learned Dace was my fated one. How happy I felt. How secure my future seemed. Never once daring to think we were fated to this . . .

My gut pings with grief, I find it hard to breathe, and I instinctively reach for the key that hangs from my chest—the symbol of Dace’s and my love. My fingers curling around it, seeking the assurance it’s never failed to provide.

I can’t give up.

Won’t give up.

The Richters have taken enough already—they won’t claim Dace too.

I lift my hand before me, watching as the tourmaline glimmers and glints as though it’s taken on a life of its own, then I glance all around. Taking in a once peaceful world now left in ruins, and it’s only bound to get worse.

“This marks the start of the prophecy.” Chay’s voice is gruffer than normal, as though each word is a struggle. “It may have nothing to do with the ring.”

“Either that, or once again, Cade got impatient and decided to jumpstart the event.”

“While we may never have the answer, perhaps you can find a way to make the stone work for you. What is it you told me about its properties?”

“It’s a shamanic tool, it activates the third eye, and in times of trouble, it can guide one toward safety . . .” My eyes grow wide with understanding. “So, you’re saying I should use it to lead me to the Richters instead of it leading them to me?”

His eyes shine as much as they’re able under the circumstances. “Either way, you’re bound to meet. But at least this way puts you in control of the situation.”

It doesn’t take long to concede that he’s right. But before I enact my new plan, I first need to know that the elders are safe. “Where are the others?” I ask. “Leftfoot, Cree, and Chepi?”

“They’re all here, somewhere. Figured it was best to separate so if worse came to worst, the Richters couldn’t take us all at once.”

I close my eyes. Hardly able to believe the danger I’ve put them all in.

“Hey now. There’s no time for regrets.” Chay tips a finger to my chin. “We’ve been part of this fight from the start. Long before you were born. What happens from this moment forward is not your fault. You hear?”

I nod because he expects me to, but I can’t quite shake my remorse.

“If you’re going to worry about anyone, save it for Jennika.”

My eyes snap open.

“I couldn’t stop her. She insisted on coming.”

“Tell me you didn’t really just say that,” I plead, wondering how it’s possible for this to get any worse. Though the look on his face confirms it’s the truth. “Is she at least armed?” Figuring what’s done is done, it’s better to veer toward the practical. “And what I mean by that is—is she armed with something other than a fierce maternal instinct to save her cub no matter the cost?”

Chay attempts agrin, but doesn’t get very far before his lips flatten, and his face pales from the strain. “She told us she’s quite proficient at archery, so Leftfoot set her up.”

“Proficient?” I frown, allowing a quick trip to the past when she took a few lessons during filming breaks on a movie set, but I don’t remember her adding it to her short list of hobbies. “At best, she’s an amateur,” I say, growing inexplicably angry at Jennika for overstating her skills and putting herself in grave danger.

“Well, it’s going to have to prove good enough.” Chay brushes a hand across his forehead, coming away with a film of sweat coating his fingers. “Anyway, you ready?”

I look at him.

“Fun’s just getting started.”

“You call this fun?”

“Like anything, it’s all in the perspective.”

He slips his Eagle ring from his finger, holds it high above his head, and emits a quick series of whistles that perfectly imitate their high-pitched peal.

“What’re you doing?” I ask, worried he’ll attract Richters and demons before I’m ready to face them.

Chay flattens a hand to his belly. Seeing my look of concern, he jabs a finger toward the sky, gesturing toward the beautiful Eagle soaring in ever-widening circles above. “He’s hunting for Richters,” he says, watching his magnificent spirit animal at work, which only makes me wonder what happened to mine.

“Will he bring them back to us?”

Chay tries to laugh, but it’s as unsuccessful as the grin. “Not likely. But if you follow, he’ll lead you to them. Think of him as a backup to the tourmaline.”

I shift my focus to Chay, adding up all the signs of physical distress he’s displayed since he arrived, and becoming even more convinced that something’s gone terribly wrong. “If I hurry? What about you? It’s your sprit animal. Aren’t you coming with me?”

He shakes his head sadly, and flips open his jacket. Revealing the place where blood continuously pumps from a wound hidden inside his shirt. “Looks like you’re not the only one who met up with Leandro.” His complexion pales, his gaze grows blunted, distant, and when I rush to help, he pushes me away.

“I’m a healer! I can help you!” I cry, mentally reviewing the short list of quick fixes and remedies.

“That’s a side gig.” He grasps my hands and folds them in his. “You’re the Seeker first and foremost, which means you cannot afford to get distracted by me. Go, Daire. You’ve got a job to do. I’ll be fine.”

“But what if you’re not?” My lip quivers, my eyes sting, and if I didn’t know better, I’d swear that my heart has splintered into a thousand jagged shards. “I can’t do this alone! I can’t lose you too!”

“But someday you will.” His gaze is resigned, leaving no doubt he’s fighting to hang on long enough to convince me to leave. “If not today, then someday, and it’s perfectly okay. Paloma is waiting for me, and when my time is up, I’ll go gladly. I’m ready to find her. So don’t you worry. My breath may cease, but my soul will transcend. So go, Daire. Trust in your abilities. Trust in Paloma’s teachings. Trust in the wisdom of your ancestors. But most importantly, trust in your heart. It will never lead you astray.”

My eyes meet his, and I instinctively know he means Dace.

“Love is a powerful force. If anyone can save him, it’s you. So go. Go do what you were born to do.”

I cup a hand to either side of his face, tip onto my toes, and press my lips to his forehead. Hoping he can somehow intuit all of the words I’m too shaken to say. Then, with a heavy heart, I turn on my heel, and race to catch up with Eagle.

THIRTY-TWO

XOTICHL

The second I discover we’ve landed in the Lowerworld, my first instinct is to flee.

The place I once begged to visit—the place I once held so dear—the place that bestowed me with what I once considered the most incredible gift by restoring my sight—has descended into a scene so hellish, it’s like a mirror image of the wasteland of emotions warring inside.

I pound my fists into the dirt.

I thrash, kick, and scream with all I have in me.

Driven by an all-consuming hatred for this place—blaming it for fueling my dreams and encouraging me to believe the old me wasn’t quite good enough—that I needed improving.

But mostly, I hate myself for relinquishing my blind sight with barely a thought, in a desire to be normal, like everyone else.

It’s the reason I couldn’t get a read on Luther.

Why I couldn’t warn Auden against signing that contract.

Couldn’t warn Daire that something awful was afoot.

And because of it, the three worlds, like our lives, are in ruins.

Those weren’t sapphires embedded on that pen, they were blue tourmalines from Cade’s mine.

And the blood Auden spilled on that contract—the blood he accidentally spilled on my cheek—ties us to the Richters for all of eternity.

Because he agreed to beat the drum that illuminated the portals allowing Coyote unhindered access to the worlds long denied them, Auden will have unlimited riches, unsurpassed fame and success.

He’ll live the life of his dreams

But the fame will be fleeting.

The success comes with a shelf life of one single lifetime.

While our souls are doomed for all of eternity.

“Flower, hey—you okay?” Auden crawls up alongside me, brings a hand to my tearstained cheek. “Are you injured?”

I shake my head.

“Scared?”

“Not in the way you might think.”

“So what then?” He brushes a hand through my hair, tucks the strands back behind my ear. His touch so tender, his gaze so caring, I can’t bear to tell him the truth.

Though I guess he reads the look on my face, because he takes my hand and says, “How long have you known?”

His voice is somber, face grave.

“Probably not as long as you.”

“Xotichl—” He squeezes my hand. “I’m so sorry. I messed up. I wanted this so badly, but only because I wanted you to believe in me. I wanted your mom to believe in me—I wanted to be good enough for her—to get her approval . . .”

My throat grows hot and tight. “Oh, Auden. Don’t you get it? No one will ever be good enough for my mom. That’s just how she is when it comes to me. But you’ve always been more than good enough for me—isn’t that what really matters?”

“It should’ve been. But I was so desperate for her blessing that I . . .” He shakes his head, squints his eyes closed as though he can’t bear to see or be seen. “And now, because of it, I’ve endangered you.”

“Maybe, maybe not.”

Auden opens his eyes, looks at me.

“Just because our plan’s a fail doesn’t mean we can’t improvise. There’s got to be a way to turn this whole thing around and I’m determined to find it. I’ve had enough of the Richters. They won’t get our souls that easily, not without a fight.” I get to my feet and entwine my fingers with his. Putting on a brave face and the voice to match, I say, “First, we need to find our friends and make sure they’re okay. Then we’ll deal with Luther and the Richters once and for all.”

THIRTY-THREE

LITA

The second the sand drops from under our feet, Axel pulls me tightly to his chest and wraps his arms snugly around me in an effort to cushion the fall.

He’s always there for me.

Always looking out for me.

In just six short months he’s become such an integral part of my life, I can’t imagine ever being without him.

We crash to the ground, with Axel on the bottom, me on top. And after determining we both survived seemingly unharmed, I bury my face in his chest and seek strength in his touch. Figuring I’m going to need it, since, from what I can tell, the world’s gone to hell.

“You okay?” Axel loosens his grip, gets us both to our feet, as I adjust the straps of my dress and conduct a quick inventory of myself.

“Yeah,” I say. “Or, at least, I think so. That mask is long gone, but good riddance. I’m just glad I let Daire convince me to wear these boots.” I raise the hem of my dress, gaze down at the hideous pair of hiking boots I was reluctant to wear. “The stilettos I had in mind never would’ve survived that fall.” I grin, jostle his shoulder, try to get a response. But he’s already drawing away. “What? What is it?” I follow the direction of his strangely glittering gaze, watching as he stares wide-eyed at a sky glowing red.

“It’s the Upperworld.” He turns to me, his face filled with pain. “It’s been breached.”

I study him closely, alarmed by the way his irises lighten until they’re almost iridescent in color. “Maybe it’s just more of Cade’s stupid magick tricks. I mean, it wouldn’t be the first time. Last Christmas Eve he made the sky bleed fire. Practically firebombed the whole town.”

“It’s not Cade.” His tone is as regretful as his face. “I can hear the cries of my people in agony.”

He starts to withdraw. His movements so effortless, it’s as though he’s being willed by a much greater force.

“Axel!” I grasp his hand, force him to face me. “What are you doing?” I cry, though the answer is clear. His eyes reveal everything. “No.” My voice shakes, though it’s nothing compared to my knees. “No! You cannot go back there! You live here now!”

“Lita . . .” He turns long enough to cup his hands to my cheeks, his touch so soft I could easily be distracted if his gaze wasn’t so final.

“Are you freaking kidding me?” My voice is shrill in a way that would normally embarrass me, but not anymore, not when everything I cherish is about to fall apart. “You come into my life, make me fall head over heels for you, just so you can dump me the second the worlds go to hell?” I clutch his arm tightly, try to force a reply, but when he fails to speak, I try another approach and appeal to his practical side. “Axel, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but you cannot leave me out here on my own. It’s dangerous, there are demons, and I’m completely unarmed!”

“You’re not unarmed.” He plucks the last remaining feather from my hair and brushes the vane softly against my cheek. “It’s a miracle you didn’t lose it in the fall. It must be an omen.”

“A miracle? Since when does a feather qualify as a miracle?” Hating the very sight of it, I bat it with the back of my hand, push it away. “Like that’s ever going to defend me against a Richter!” I glare, so angry, so incredibly insulted, I could scream. Though somehow, I manage to refrain.

“It’s not just any feather. It’s an Eagle—”

“I know what kind of feather it is!” I rub my lips together. Bite back a barrage of words I’ll only live to regret. Knowing it’s better to appear rational, if not entirely calm, I force myself to say, “Axel, I swear if you leave me here, I will—”

He presses a finger to my lips, which only tempts me to bite it. Not that it’ll do any good. He’ll just bleed a bit of gold, before the wound seals right up as though it never existed.

“Believe, Lita. That’s all I ask of you. Belief and intent are at the heart of all magick. It can’t possibly work without them.”

I start to push his hand away, but the second my fingers meet his, I find myself clasping it instead. “And who exactly am I supposed to send a prayer to? You? You gonna answer my wish once you get there?”

“If I’m able.”

“And if you’re not?”

He squeezes my fingers, holds my hand close to his chest. “Honestly, I’m just looking to get my own prayer answered. But, Lita, you need to know that prayers are like wishes. If you waste them on the frivolous, they won’t be there when you need them for something serious. So please think long and hard before you put this to use.” He places the feather into my hand and curls my fingers around the quill.

“You’re serious. You’re really doing this, aren’t you?” My voice cracks, hardly able to believe this is happening. That Cade’s prophecy of our doomed romance is actually coming true.

Axel cups his palms to my cheek, his glimmering lavender eyes conveying all the things that words fail to. But it’s too painful. I can’t bear to look. So I shutter my eyes, tip onto my toes, and bring my lips to meet his. Allowing myself to revel in a touch so light, so mesmerizing, so loving, so fleeting . . .

And the next thing I know, he’s disappeared into a burst of blazing red light.

THIRTY-FOUR

DAIRE

I follow Chay’s Eagle to a fat nest of demons amusing themselves by terrorizing a warren full of rabbits.

Which is why they don’t notice me.

“Bunnies? Really?” I wave my athame before me. “You know, the rules are actually pretty simple, and yet you always seem to break them. So, allow me to remind you. First, there will be no terrorizing, killing, or eating of the sprit animals—”

They stop with the menacing and turn their attention to me, waiting to hear what comes next. That’s the thing about demons—while they’re definitely hideous, evil, incredibly dangerous, and prone to causing massive destruction, they’re also easily distracted.

Not to mention stupid.

“And second—”

My gaze moves among them, searching for the leader. Deciding it’s not the one that snarls, growls, and goes after me first, I still don’t hesitate to slice my athame straight through his thick, scaly neck—if for no other reason than to send a message to the rest.

His body jerks and twitches in a brief adrenaline-laced jig, before collapsing to the dirt alongside its head.

“As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted—” I shake the remaining crud from my blade and position it before me, ready to take the next wave. “The Upper-and Lowerworlds are strictly off-limits. Which means you can either leave now, or deal with me. Your choice.”

They come at me in a wave of tails and horns and oversized monstrous heads, and my athame carves ’em up as easily as a Thanksgiving turkey. Counting each severed bit as a small sign of victory, all the while knowing I probably shouldn’t be enjoying it to the degree that I am.

It’s not like there’s a shortage of evil. There are plenty more where they came from.

Not to mention that somewhere, out there, Coyote is waiting.

I stop with the fancy moves and quips, and concentrate instead on finishing the job. Methodically eliminating them one by one, until the entire nest is eradicated and I follow Eagle to the next one. Then the one after that. And all those that follow. Eventually slaying so many demons, the spirit animals begin to come out of hiding and work alongside me.

A posse of Rabbits, Turtles, Bison, Ram, and Bobcats are soon joined by countless others intent on reclaiming their turf.

Though, once again, Raven is notably absent.

Horse too.

But with so much left to do, I can’t get distracted. I keep a close watch on Eagle as he soars a wide arc before me, just a few feet ahead, signaling another lot of demons lurking nearby. Swooping past my shoulder just as I’m about to close in, he veers so close his feathers graze my cheek like a kiss, before he winks out of sight.

A chill pricks the back of my neck, blankets my skin.

My knees go weak.

As my fingers tremble so severely I nearly drop the athame.

My body instantly acknowledging the truth my mind fights to deny.

Chay.

Another one lost at the Richters’ hands.

I sag toward the ground, staggering under the weight of the loss. So gripped by grief, it’s a moment before I notice the peal of voices shouting close by.

Driven by rage, heartache, and vengeance, I spring to my feet and race toward the noise. Wondering at the spirit animals’ unwillingness to follow, when I burst onto a scene that explains their reluctance.

Even with her back turned toward me, the sight of her gorgeous mane of glistening amber waves spilling down her back, her black leather corset, unearthly translucent skin, and skirt comprised of countless slithering, writhing, live snakes, leave no doubt I’ve crossed paths with the Bone Keeper.

The one who rules the lowest level of the Lowerworld.

The one who presides over the Day of the Dead, collecting the bones of the deceased as admittance to the afterlife.

No wonder the spirit animals prefer to steer clear—she’s as terrifying now as the first day I met her.

“So, the Seeker returns.” Her voice is throaty and deep, as she glances over her shoulder, revealing the beautiful version of her face. The large, black onyx eyes—the lush generous mouth used for swallowing stars. A stunning façade that can instantly shift to a sun-bleached skull with horrible empty sockets standing in for the eyes. “While you’ve done a fine job of demon slaying, don’t get any ideas. Demons serve me no purpose, which is why I left them to you. These ones are mine, you’ll get no part of them.” She gestures toward a large group of Richters who had the misfortune of falling into her trap.

It’s the one commonality we share—the Bone Keeper hates Coyote almost as much as I do. For centuries, their dead have denied her their bones, and the Bone Keeper never forgets what’s owed her.

The ones still alive huddle wide-eyed and terrified, watching as her endless army of snakes sink their fangs into the flesh of the fallen. Painstakingly stripping them of muscle and meat, exposing the bones that she covets.

I gaze upon the lot of them, searching for three in particular. Hoping they’re not among the heap being flayed by the snakes. I have my own torture planned.

“While I’m not here to interfere with . . .” I gaze among the wreckage, looking for the correct way to phrase the horror show she’s directing. “. . . your bone collecting, I feel I should warn you—that one is mine.” I point to the one on my list, leaving no room for doubt who I’ve set my sights on, as I pick my way through countless beds of snakes.

Ready to stake my claim, when the Bone Keeper’s pale bony hand locks hard on my wrist. “I don’t negotiate.” Her eyes blaze on mine.

I place my hand over hers and wrench free of her grip, rubbing the place where her nails nearly broke through my skin. “Funny, that’s not how I remember it.” I glare, recalling the deal we wagered on the Day of the Dead when I got the souls, and she kept the bones. “Not to mention, today is not Dia de los Muertos. You have no claim to them.”

She grins. Her lips stretching wide to reveal a row of glittering teeth, a tongue sprinkled with stardust. The display oddly enticing, until her face transforms into a skull and the illusion is lost. “In case you haven’t noticed, the worlds are merged, Seeker. The old rules no longer apply.”

“A temporary reprieve, that’s soon to be remedied.” I push the words past, speaking with far more confidence than I currently own. “And, as it just so happens, that one is the first step toward making it happen.” I brush past her until I’m standing before him. Enjoying the look of sheer terror on Gabe’s face as I press the tip of my demon-crud-covered athame to the underside of his chin. Admittedly disappointed it’s not Leandro or Cade, though it’s still a good start. “You can have his bones for all I care. But I want to be the one to destroy him.”

“My, my.” The sound of the Bone Keeper giggling is so unnatural, I can’t help but cringe. “Seems the Echo’s not the only one who’s gone dark around here.”

“What do you know about it?” I glance over my shoulder, shifting my focus between her and Gabe.

“Same thing I’ve always known about it. It’s going to be fun to see how this ends. Though probably more so for me than you—I’m pretty sure your luck is about to run out.”

“Luck? You think I’m relying on luck?” Now it’s my turn to laugh, the sound bitter, sarcastic, and not at all satisfying. I return my focus to Gabe, and shove the tip of my blade into his flesh, releasing a bright trail of red. “Luck has no place where duty’s concerned. I’ve trained hard for this moment. I’m merely doing what I was born to do and no more.”

“If you say so,” she muses. “Still, it’s a rare spectacle to watch a Seeker kill a human. That’s Coyote’s game, not yours.”

“Looks like the rules have changed.”

“Have they? Or is that how you justify your rage over all that you’ve lost?”

I glare from over my shoulder. If she wasn’t so formidable, she’d be next on my list. “What do you care?”

“I don’t. It’s all the same to me. In the end, I’ll get your bones too. And, from the looks of things, it won’t be much longer. Speaking of . . . have you seen him? Have you seen the Echo turned beast?” Her jaw lifts. Her cheeks widen. The sound of bone scraping bone as disturbing as nails on a chalkboard—until she heaves a long sigh and her face transforms to the flesh-and-blood version. Her skin as translucent as wax paper, her eyes adopting a lascivious gleam at the memory.

And though I’d like to look away, pretend to ignore it, if she has any idea where Dace is, I need her to tell me. Tightening my hold on Gabe, who, oddly enough makes no attempt to escape, I turn to her and say, “Listen, anything you can tell me about Dace’s whereabouts would be greatly appreciated.”

“I’ll bet.” She returns to watching over her snakes, signaling she has no intention of helping me, so I switch my focus to Gabe.

“You’re done,” I tell him. “Your reign of terror ends here. Now.”

“So hurry up and do it already,” he says, arcing his head back and offering his neck.

Evil Gabe Richter is begging to be delivered?

My knife stills in my hand.

Is this some kind of trick?

I follow his gaze to where the Bone Keeper directs her snakes to drag down another one of his cousins and begin the process of flaying flesh from bone while he’s still breathing.

The sight so disturbing, the agonized screams so wrenching, it’s all I can do to keep it together. I’ve seen some sick stuff in my time, but this is about as bad as it gets. No wonder Gabe prefers to die at my hand.

“You’re not going to kill me,” Gabe says, though the truth is, I can barely make out the words over the din of tormented screams—frenzied squealing and shrieking—the hum of snakes hissing and slithering—the slow, agonized rattle of death—accompanied by—the Bone Keeper screeching?

I whirl in her direction, watching in confusion as she casts a wide, silvery net over her bounty, calls to her snakes, and flees with her cache of bones rattling behind. Returning to Gabe just as he flips the knife from under his chin, ducks out of my grip, and moves to stand beside Dace.