by Alyson Noel
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 fig
ure 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 a
nd 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.”