by May Dawson
“That’s all I can see about the future,” she said, her face troubled. “You’ll have a tough road to protect your friends, Madeline Northsea. You’ll have to be stronger than you ever have before—and they’ll have to be strong for you.”
“Not a problem,” I said automatically, even though dread twisted through my stomach. We were a team. A good one.
“I wish I could make the path ahead easier for you,” she said, and her troubled gaze found Tyson for some reason. “It’ll be easier if you don’t deny what you know is true deep down. Love. Magic. Courage. That’s all you’ll have.”
Tyson quirked one eyebrow, as if the fortune-teller was unbearably cheesy to him, as he pushed his hands into his pockets. The movement hunched his broad, sexy shoulders, pushing his jeans down his taut waist just a bit.
Maybe he thought it was cheesy. But it felt true to me.
“Do you have any idea where we find the Strangers?” I asked.
“Well,” she said. “Someone is already looking for you.”
“Is he good or bad?”
She shrugged.
“This has been really enlightening,” Tyson muttered.
“One last thing,” I said, even though part of me wanted to drag Ty away. He wasn’t living up to his usual charming reputation today, so it was up to me to flash the fortune-teller my brightest smile. “Would you show us that portal?”
“Hell no,” Tyson said. “Maddie, no.”
The fortune teller had been on the verge of telling me no—I could read it in her posture—but now her brows arched, and she turned to Tyson with a smug look spreading across her face. “That’s a funny response from a skeptic. You have the chance to prove me a liar right now.”
“Maybe I’ve just reached my bullshit quota for the day,” he shot back.
“Have a little courage, Tyson,” she chided him.
His lips quirked at one corner, as if he recognized the blatant attempt to manipulate him. Then he shrugged.
“Whatever Maddie wants, she gets,” he said lightly, shoving his hand into his pocket. He glanced at me, affection lighting his eyes. “Isn’t that the secret motto of our weird little club?”
The tarot reader had said that Chase would have a second chance to die soon. When I looked back at Tyson, who was smiling and easygoing as usual, Rafe’s words seemed to hang around me like a weight, dragging my shoulders down. They’d follow you into a war.
“I don’t know if that’s true,” I murmured.
A troubled look came into his eyes, but the tarot card reader was already tearing the silk down from across the wall.
Tyson reached out and took my hand in his, and I clung to him tightly.
I hoped I could hang on to him, and all to my men.
Chapter Twenty-Two
When she had torn down the silk, she stepped back.
“I had visitors who used that portal not that long ago,” she said. “They must have succeeded in closing the rip from their side, because Avalon is gone now.”
She pressed her palm to the wall, her fingers splaying over the pitted white wall as if it meant something to her. There was a flash of sadness across her face.
“But that means there must be a way to safeguard each world,” she said, almost to herself. “If I can help you, I guess I have to.”
“Yeah, out of the kindness of your heart,” Tyson said. His gaze fell to the stash of cash on the table.
She turned, fixing him with a cold look. “You’re going to struggle with being a warlock. I look forward to a) helping you save the world and b) laughing at the unnecessary pain your ego and prejudice will cause you to inflict on yourself.”
She tilted her head to one side, her voice changing, becoming more serious. “And possibly your friends.”
Tyson folded his arms across his chest. From his posture, she’d gotten to him with that last line, and his voice came out hard. “So let’s see this magic.”
“See this shimmer?” She ran her fingertips over a faint disturbance in the air along the wall.
It was the kind of thing that seemed like it should have a scientific explanation.
But then, maybe the rips were a scientific explanation.
“When you go through the rip,” she said, “you’ll be in the Fae world, since Avalon is closed. Eat nothing—anything you eat will addle your brains worse than they already are. See the world for yourself, then come back.”
“How do we get back?” I asked.
“Just walk back into the shimmer,” she said. “Try not to trip on your way in.”
She kicked the silk out of the way, pushing it into a pile to one side with the pointed toe of her shoe.
“Could the magic in my necklace have come from the…Fae…world?” I asked.
“I can’t get a read on it,” she said, picking my necklace up by the chain. “Maybe. Maybe not.”
“This seems like a good idea,” Tyson said.
I grabbed his hand, and he came along with me, no matter how much he grumbled.
I stepped into the shimmer first. I felt him stumble behind me—as if he couldn’t force himself to walk directly into a wall—but then he was with me, just a beat behind. Our fingers were still tightly laced together as cold washed over me.
And then it was gone. It was cool outside, a faint breeze teasing my nose with a heavy floral scent. I blinked and we were in what seemed like a garden within a forest; green vines heavy with vibrantly-colored blossoms hung from the trees around us. Emerald grass spread beneath our feet, the ground soft.
I turned fast, looking for the shimmer, and it was right there behind us. I exhaled in relief.
“Ty,” I said. “It’s beautiful.”
“It’s…not bullshit.”
“Well, those two sentences certainly summarize our different perspectives on life.”
He abruptly pulled back.
“What’s wrong?” I asked as he looked down, wincing.
He reached down and rubbed his leg. “I swear to god something just bit me—”
Being bitten by something when you don’t know what the hell anything is is even worse than being eaten by mosquitoes. And I grew up in the south—I know all about being eaten by mosquitoes.
“Hold still,” I told him, dropping to my knees and pulling up the hem of his jeans.
There was nothing there but a leaf stuck to his sock and a tiny bead of blood.
“I’m sure you’re fine,” I said as I straightened. “Looks like a regular bug bite.”
“Northsea,” he said, his voice urgent.
He only called me Northsea when we were in work mode. I looked up at him, a sense of danger spiking through my chest.
“The forest is alive.” His lips barely moved.
I followed his gaze. There was the faintest rustling within the forest, and then I realized it was the vines themselves moving, curling like snakes around the branches, moving ever-so-quietly with a soft slither and flutter of leaves.
“All we have to do is fall through the portal. One quick move. Together. On three,” he told me.
I nodded.
“One,” he mouthed at me. His hands wrapped around my waist, gripping me firmly, as if he was afraid of losing me. His bright hazel eyes were intense with worry, flecked with gold. “Two.”
Pain twinged through my ankle, like something just bit me too. I couldn’t help flinching, but as I started to duck to shake off whatever just bit me, he said, “Three.”
He pulled me with him, and the two of us fell into the shimmer.
Suddenly the forest burst into life, greenery exploding toward us, petals flying off the heavy flowers as they flew toward us.
Then, cold rushed over my skin and through me, as if I was being frozen from the inside out.
Then, the two of us slammed into the hard floor.
The fortune teller jumped out of the way, then looked at us with wide eyes. “What’s wrong with you two?”
“We were attacked by something.” My skin st
ill burned. I yanked up the leg of my jeans. There was a circle of greenery around my ankle, and I yanked at it before flinging it across the room. “What the hell? Were we attacked by plants?”
“The Fae world is a strange place,” she said. She crouched, plucking the string of greenery between her fingertips.
“Be careful,” I warned.
“They’re just plants once they’re removed from the Fae world,” she said.
“What was that?” Tyson asked.
A smug smile played at the corners of her mouth, but she managed to keep it out of her voice. “I can look it up and tell you in a minute. There are only a few sentient plants.”
“You know about the Fae world?”
“I was born in Avalon,” she said, going to the shelves and drawing out a book. “There’s so much you who have lived your lives Earthside don’t know. It’s a vast, magical universe, and you have a strange, petty little pocket of it. Of course, you have smart watches and social media, so I’m sure it all balances out.”
“I’m sure,” I muttered.
As she flipped through pages,Tyson drew my leg into his lap. He rubbed his thumb over the spot of blood. Even though his fingers were just playing across my calf, that faint touch sent a powerful throb of lust straight to my core. I leaned back, squirming slightly on the floor, feeling how desire tightened my thighs.
I gently pulled my leg out of his touch. “I’m fine.”
“We shouldn’t have done that,” he said, his gaze troubled.
“We had to know,” I said. I looked up at the fortune teller. “What do the rips mean to us?”
“For now, not much,” she said. “Eventually, the end of the world as you know it.”
The end of the world? I stared at her, wishing I’d misheard. “What?”
“The rips are tearing the fabric between the worlds, and eventually, your worlds will merge together. You humans can try to fight the Fae and the Ravengers, but I doubt you’ll last long.” She didn’t seem bothered. “Probably won’t happen in this generation, though.”
“We have to do something,” I said.
“Sure, I hope you will.” She snapped the book closed. “Want to know what that was?”
“Please.”
She tilted her head to one side. “Do you feel anything strange?”
“Are we going to die?” I asked.
“No, this little beastie that bit you—“ she dangled the greenery from her fingers, wiggling it back and forth, “—lowers inhibitions and increases risk-taking behaviors to an incredible degree. It’s carnivorous, but I swear everything in the Fae world likes to play with its food first.”
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing is coming to eat you. You’re fine. But if I were the two of you, I’d lock myself into a hotel room now and stay there for the next twenty-four hours. Chain yourselves to the radiator or something.”
“I don’t think most hotels have radiators anymore.”
“Then I guess you’re out of luck.” But no matter how light-hearted her words, she handed over a card to me. “Call me anytime.”
“How long do we have to get to the hotel?” I demanded.
She sighed suddenly. “Do you want to come home with me? I can lock you in my basement?”
“I’m not in the habit of letting witches lock me in basements,” Tyson muttered.
“And I’m not in the habit of letting dickish shifters insult me while I try to help them, but here we are,” she snapped.
He gazed at her, and after a second, his lips tilted up slightly at the corners. “Appreciate the offer.”
“Mm-hmm.” She gathered her purse from a table, slinging her jacket over her arm. “Bringing shifters home with me. These days, it’s a strange world indeed.”
“And getting stranger every day,” Tyson said. He and I were both headed toward the door, and his fingers accidentally brushed mine. I started to pull my hand away, flashing him an apologetic smile, but he grabbed my hand. His smile was sure.
I didn’t mind the strange world nearly so much when Tyson and I held each other close.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chase
On Saturday afternoon when liberty started, Silas, Jensen and I hiked down the road to his father’s house. The guards at the academy gates looked more alert than usual, and they swung the gate open for us to pass when usually it would have been wide-open during liberty hours, with students coming and going.
Jensen left us on the porch while he snuck inside, and he came out with a set of car keys held aloft.
“Your dad isn’t going to report that stolen, is he?” I asked skeptically. “You just got out of trouble, you don’t need to get into new trouble.”
“Did I?” Jensen asked. “I’m not convinced I’m out of trouble. Anyway, I’m not getting mugged by some Uber driver as we carry around your seven million dollars.”
“And you’re not going to mug me, right?”
Jensen slapped my shoulder with his hand. “After all this time, you’re still not one-hundred-percent sure on that one, are you?”
Silas smiled to himself.
Jensen climbed into the driver’s side, and Silas and I climbed into the car too.
“Don’t worry,” Jensen said as he tossed the key fob into the center console and pressed the start on the dashboard. “My dad’s not noticing much of anything lately except how much Glenlivet is left in the bottle.”
“Are you doing all right?” Silas tilted his head as he studied Jensen. Despite the perpetually dreamy look across his face, his bright eyes seemed keen.
“I’m always fine,” Jensen said.
After all this time, we were still lying to each other, too.
I’d signed the lottery ticket right away, trying to make it harder to steal, but it still burned in the inside pocket of my jacket. I couldn’t help feeling like this good luck had to be snatched away at the last possible second.
Jensen drove the car down the driveway and took a right onto the road. I glanced in the rearview mirror, but Dean McCauley didn’t come running after us, waving his arms.
“Clearborn used the house once for a meeting,” Jensen admitted. “But he doesn’t want it. He’s letting my father stay while he figures out where he’ll go next.”
“That’s nice of him,” Silas said, and I almost winced. Silas seemed to miss the occasional social cue.
Jensen snorted. “Yeah. Well. I’m not sure where the man sleeps. Or if he sleeps.”
The three of us had an hour-long drive to the strip mall where the State Lottery Commission headquarters were housed.
“Your life is about to change,” Jensen said dramatically, waving his arm toward the nondescript office, which was in between a laundromat and a liquor store. “Behold, the grand setting in which your destiny will unfold.”
“Why are you like this?” I asked.
“You thought Silas was the dorky one, didn’t you?” Jensen asked.
I was too nervous about the ticket to manage a glib response back. I almost pulled it out of my pocket to make sure it was still there, but a breeze kicked up just then, flinging grit and a few leaves up swirling above us, and I changed my mind.
As we headed across the parking lot, the office looked closed. Shit. I’d called them to figure out how to claim my ticket, and they were supposed to be open. But if they weren’t, how would I ever get here on a weekday?
Silas tried the door, and it opened.
We entered a small lobby with a reception desk and a series of gray-paneled cubicles behind the lady who smiled at me. I reached inside my pocket, my heart racing.
The ticket was still there.
Two hours later, with many forms signed, I got back into Jensen’s car with just under four million dollars—thanks to taxes—in a brand-new bank account. I should’ve been ecstatic.
Instead, as my stomach twisted, I got right back out of the car and puked into the median, right between a pair of skinny trees. A car driving past honked
, like they were cheering for me.
“Dude,” Jensen said. “You sick?”
“No.” I turned around, only to find him popping open the trunk. He pulled out a bottle of water from an emergency kit and tossed it my way. I swished water around in my mouth before I spat it back out. I deadpanned, “I’m just so happy.”
“You should be happy,” Silas said.
“You and I are gonna split it,” I told Silas, not for the first time. “You’re the one who gave me the ticket.”
“It was a fair trade,” Silas said. “I told you that if you brought my books back to the library for me, I’d give you the ticket. A deal’s a deal.”
“But I didn’t expect to win,” I said.
“Then why would you cart all my books back?” Silas frowned.
It was true, the man was a power library user.
“It was just supposed to be for fun,” I said. “It’s not for fun anymore if I feel like I’m cheating a friend.”
“I don’t want the money,” Silas said.
“That’s weird,” Jensen said.
“I’m always weird,” Silas said, which was difficult to argue with.
“So’s the fact that you’re puking,” Jensen told me. “Like you’re allergic to not-being-poor.”
I didn’t get it either. I was happy, wasn’t I? And at the same time, my stomach and chest felt tight.
Maybe it was because I wanted to do the right thing by Silas, but maybe it was something else. I’d never complain about the money—what kind of jackass would?—but it felt like a lot of pressure, too.
“Whatever, let’s go to those open houses you picked out,” Jensen said. “If you think you can manage not to ruin the leather in my car.”
“You’re always so caring,” Silas said as the three of us got into the car.
“I gave him a bottle of water,” Jensen shot back. “What’d you give him to make him feel better? Good vibes?”
The two of them bickered, the noise washing over me as I sprawled in the back seat.
But strangely enough, just having them around made me feel better.
Chapter Twenty-Four