by Alyson Noel
“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 w
ear 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.
&nbs
p; 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.