by Alyson Noel
My eyes narrow, surprised by her words. Never once guessing that she had the dreams too.
“So you know how it ends?”
She shakes her head, allowing her hair to spring into her face, making her even more irresistible. “No. I know how the dream ends. But that’s not how we end. Dace, I was thinking, can’t we give ourselves this night? I know we can’t be together full time, or at least not until after Cade is defeated. Still, I was thinking maybe we could give ourselves this one gift—this one night—just you and me. Tomorrow we’ll separate and do what we have to. But tonight … well, I guess I need something to go on. Something to carry me through. Something to ease the ache of loneliness and pain that comes from missing you.”
I kiss her again. Fully. Deeply. It’s the only thing that makes sense.
Love is meant to be shared—not hoarded. That’s the whole point of it.
No wonder there are so many love songs on the radio. It’s a never-ending attempt by artists to describe the indescribable.
Somewhere inside the Rabbit Hole a party rages.
Somewhere inside that club Epitaph rocks the stage, while Xotichl waits for me to return so she can lead me to the vortex.
Somewhere among the crowd Leandro roots for my dark side, as Phyre pokes through the embers of a passion that died long ago.
But none of that matters right now.
Because Daire and I are together.
As we should be.
As we’re meant to be.
And when I bundle her into the crook of my arm and usher her into my truck, I watch as she snuffs out the candles lining the path with merely a nod of her head.
Leaving no doubt she’s right.
We’ll get through this. The prophecy doesn’t define us.
Tonight we’ll give ourselves the gift of each other.
Tomorrow will come soon enough.
* * *
I wake to the sight of Daire sleeping beside me. Her breath soft and even, her skin fair and gleaming under the slant of light that seeps in from the window. And as much as I long to touch her, fill my fingers with the promise of her—I climb out of bed and leave her to slumber.
I pull on the jeans I’d left on the floor and swipe a clean T-shirt from the laundry basket and yank it over my head. Chasing it with a gray sweater culled from the back of a chair, I look around my place for the first time in days, horrified by the colossal mess that it is.
The last week has been chaotic at best. And because of it, my apartment is trashed. While Daire and I were a little too preoccupied last night for her to really take notice, there’s no doubt she’ll notice now. There’s no place to hide under the harsh glare of daylight.
I hit the kitchen first, determined to deal with the pile of dirty dishes crowding the sink. Not getting very far before there’s a knock at the door and I open it to find Xotichl and Auden loaded down with pink boxes and white bags embossed with the logo of Nana’s bakery, one of the few places in Enchantment that’s not owned and operated by the Richters, which means the bread is pure heaven.
“We bring sustenance.” Xotichl finds her way past me as Auden follows and plunks the bags on the small kitchen table. “But we’re counting on you for the coffee, so please don’t disappoint us. You’re not the only one who had a late night. I’m desperately in need of my morning fix.”
“That’s the one thing I do have.” I return to the sink, working the scrubber side of the sponge over the stubborn film of crud on the bottom of the coffeepot. “Just, uh—give me a second and we’re good to go.”
Xotichl stands in the middle of my living room, head swiveling from side to side, as though she doesn’t know where to sit, even though this is hardly her and Auden’s first visit.
“Something wrong?” I watch as Auden tears off a piece of bread, plops it into his mouth, and shoots me a guilty look, while Xotichl stays rooted in place, nose pitched high, face scrunched in disapproval.
“Dace—this place feels like a mess. Like a serious, chaotic mess.”
“That’s because it is,” Auden says. Looking at me when he adds, “Sorry, bro, but I can’t let you continue like this. Clutter makes for bad energy. You should know that.”
“Funny—I didn’t even notice the clutter ’til you just now mentioned it. How’d you manage to slip that past me?” Daire stands in the doorway, looking adorable in one of my old, red flannel shirts that falls halfway to her knees.
“Lots of things go unnoticed in the night, but surely you notice now?” Xotichl says, unable to find a place to sit until Auden clears a space off the couch and guides her to it.
“Nope. I’m focused solely on breakfast.” Daire veers past me, teasing a finger along my spine as she makes her way to the table where Auden’s arranged a pile of freshly baked rolls, danishes, and fat loaves of oven-warmed bread. “I’m famished.” She bites into a roll, closing her eyes to savor the flavor. Lids fluttering open when she says, “So, how’d you guys know I’d be here?” She wanders into the living room and perches on the arm of the sofa, next to Xotichl.
“Dace stood me up.” Xotichl nods her head in my direction as Auden laughs. “I was going to show him the vortex, but then when he didn’t show and you never returned … well, let’s just say that as far as mysteries go, this one was easy to solve.”
“Sorry,” I mutter, checking on the coffeemaker. “I should’ve called.”
“No worries.” Xotichl shrugs. “It’s not like it’s going anywhere.”
“Though you did miss the excitement.” Auden makes for the table, filching a danish this time. “Cade showed.”
Daire and I exchange a look.
A look Auden catches when he says, “Yeah, I know all about it. Demons—vortexes—multiple worlds—the Richters are evil beasts out to dominate Enchantment…” His cheeks fill as he takes another bite of pastry. Covering his mouth as he adds, “I’m all up to speed.”
“So, what happened?” I reach into the cupboard, searching for mugs that aren’t chipped. But not finding any, I’m forced to settle on four that bear the least amount of damage and wear.
“Yeah, and is Lita okay?” Daire crosses her legs, distracting me with a quick glimpse of thigh I try hard not to stare at.
“Lita’s fine,” Xotichl says. “In fact, she’s more than fine. I think she spent over an hour working the mistletoe line, giving away free, one-time-only Christmas kisses just to annoy him.”
“And did it?” Daire’s face lights up at the thought.
“Not in the way that she hoped,” Xotichl says. “Cade’s beyond jealousy. Though I do think it bugged him that he couldn’t control her in the way that he used to. He’s pretty much a control freak.”
“So—that’s it? Cade showed up, Lita kissed a bunch of guys she’s known all her life, and the party ended normally?” I distribute mugs filled with coffee while apologizing for the clumpy sugar and lack of milk.
“Pretty much,” Auden says, sitting beside Xotichl and clasping her hand in his. “Though he asked about you—about both of you.”
“And?” Daire peers at him from over the rim of her mug.
“And—nothing,” Xotichl says. “I blew him off. Said I hadn’t seen you.”
“But it was weird,” Auden says. “He actually looked pretty happy about that.”
“Yeah, he would.” I exchange another look with Daire.
“And then what?” Daire leans against my chest when I move to stand behind her. “Did he stay—leave—what happened?”
“Actually, it was weird. He pretty much spent the rest of the time talking with Phyre.” Xotichl takes a long grateful sip of her coffee.
“What’d they talk about?” I rub Daire’s shoulders, noticing the way they stiffen at the mention of Phyre’s name. Leaving me to wonder how much she knows—versus what she might’ve guessed on her own.
“I don’t know,” Xotichl says. “I wasn’t close enough to hear. But the energy they had going between them was certainly weird.”
r /> “Weird how?” Daire leans forward, her voice sounding worried.
“Frenetic. Off. Kind of murky and gray-brown in color.”
“You could see it?” Daire asks. “I thought that only worked with music?”
Xotichl shakes her head, takes another sip of coffee. “Paloma is teaching me to see the color in all forms of energy. Music was just the gateway.”
“Speaking of—” Daire grabs hold of my wrist and consults my watch. “I should get dressed and head back. I’m supposed to meet up with Jennika, so we can spend some quality mother-daughter time together.”
“I’ll drive you, if you want,” Auden says. “I’m heading that way.”
“And I figured I’d stick around and finally show Dace where the Rabbit Hole vortex is located.”
“I don’t want you going there.” Daire pauses on her way to the bedroom, her words directed at Xotichl.
“I figured as much,” Xotichl says. “But I’m not sure that’ll stop me.”
“Seriously,” Daire says, refusing to give in so easily. “It’s totally corrupt. It’s too dangerous. Dace—promise me you won’t let her go with you. In fact, promise me neither of you will go.”
I swipe a hand over my chin, purposely ignoring that last bit. “Have you ever tried to keep Xotichl from doing what she’s determined to do?”
“I have.” Auden raises a hand. “It’s not pretty. My flower is a stubborn one.”
Daire shoots me a warning look, but all I can do is shrug in response.
I’m going in.
Without Xotichl.
Without Daire.
Without anyone.
Last night clinched it. Now that I’ve been with her again, I don’t ever want to be without her.
I’m going to confront the prophecy and see that it’s done.
And by the time I’m finished, Cade will be dead.
thirty
Daire
When I get to Paloma’s, I’m not sure what to expect after staying out all night without telling anyone.
At the very least, I expect they’ll be worried.
At the very worst, they’ll be really, really angry.
Though maybe not Paloma. As a fellow Seeker, her expectations of me and my comings and goings differ from that of the average grandmother’s.
But Jennika? She’ll be in a frenzy for sure. My absence will hit all of her triggers. She’ll put two and two together and come up with three: Me + Dace = an unplanned pregnancy. Never stopping to think that I’ve got my own story to live—one that reads nothing like hers. Besides, Dace and I were careful, it’s not a baby we were making.
Though the scene I’m confronted with when I push through the door is not the one I expected.
Jennika is curled up on the couch, staring into the fire with a blanket wrapped snugly around her, while Paloma sits in an adjacent chair, sipping from a mug of fragrant herbal tea. The two of them sitting quietly, as though they weren’t even thinking, much less worried, about me.
I mumble a quiet greeting. Shooting a tentative, questioning look at Paloma, who merely smiles and nods in return.
“Did you have a good night?” Jennika asks, her eyes dark and sooty from the makeup she must’ve slept in. Breaking her own cardinal rule of: Thou shalt go to bed fresh of face. Leading me to believe she spent the night here.
I fill the space beside her and fold my knees underneath me. “The party was good.”
“And the after-party?”
We exchange a look. That’s not a question I intend to answer.
“At least tell me you were careful?” she prods.
I take a deep breath, unable to believe I’m having this conversation in front of my grandmother. “Of course.” I bite down on my lip, fingering the shiny gold key at my chest as I stare hard at her. She looks different. Vulnerable and soft in an almost malleable way. Like a long occupied space has suddenly vacated inside her. My voice softening, I add, “For the record, I really was listening during all of those awkward sex talks you forced on me.”
A ghost of a smile crosses her face as she wraps an arm around me and pulls me tightly to her. Burying her nose in my hair and inhaling deeply, she says, “Guess this means you’re back together?”
She pulls away and looks at me, and I nod in reply.
“You’re all grown up now.” She trails the pad of her thumb down my cheek. “I’ve got nothing left to teach you.”
“That’s not true,” I say, surprised to realize I mean it.
But she just shakes her head. “As it turns out, it appears I’m now learning from you.”
I squint, unsure of her meaning.
“I went through the box.”
I look to Paloma, seeing her smiling faintly as she nods toward my mom.
“And then Paloma and I had a long talk.”
I clamp my lips shut, not sure what that means.
How much of a talk?
About Django?
About me?
About me choosing to accept the biological inheritance he fought to deny?
Does this mean she knows I’m a Seeker?
She pushes a lock of hair from her face and levels her gaze on mine. “I think I’m beginning to realize just how much I don’t know about the world. Not to mention how much I’ve denied what I couldn’t bear to face. And while I won’t claim to like it—while I don’t like it one single bit—while I can barely wrap my head around the kind of future you face—I’m also left with no choice but to accept it. If I could do something, anything, to change it, I would. If I could volunteer on your behalf and take your place, I’d do that too. But Paloma tells me I can’t. Says I’ve done all that I could the last sixteen years, and now I need to leave you in the care of a force far greater than me.” She swallows hard, plants a kiss on the side of my head. Her voice a mere whisper, she says, “You know, I think Django would be proud of you—to know that you’re trying to complete the very thing he tried hard to flee … I think he’d be amazed by your courage and strength. I know I am.”
“I met him,” I say, seeing the way her gaze widens at the words. “During my vision quest. He came to me. Helped me. I couldn’t have survived it without him. He was so handsome too. I can see why you fell for him as hard as you did.”
Jennika’s gaze travels to a distant place—smiling faintly at his memory.
“He’s everywhere, you know. Paloma taught me that. You can talk to him wherever and whenever you want. But, honestly, I think he’d prefer you move on.”
She nods, pulls me back to her. “Don’t let that boy hurt you again.” The words are a fierce whisper.
“Still calling him that boy?”
Her shoulders lift, as she flips open the blanket, inviting me in.
“He didn’t mean to hurt me the first time. It was a misguided attempt to protect me, that’s all.” I inch closer, allowing her to envelop me in a cozy layer of wool.
“And don’t forget that you’re not just a Santos—a Seeker—you’re a Lyons as well. I’m part of that equation too, you know.”
“How could I forget?” I snuggle against her. “Besides, I wouldn’t have it any other way, would you?”
She shakes her head slightly, tightening her blanket around us, as we gaze into the flames. Watching as they crackle and spit, devouring the vertically stacked logs in Paloma’s kiva fireplace.
Our reverie broken when Paloma says, “Look—it’s raining!”
I look toward the window and, sure enough, the panes are streaming and wet.
“Not quite the snow I tried to manifest, but it’s a start, right?” I glance between my mother and grandmother.
Smiling with contentment when they say, “It is indeed.”
We remain like that for the better part of the morning. Three generations of females, staring into the rain—contemplating a future that yawns wide before us.
* * *
“I can’t believe you’re leaving.” I glance around the tiny hotel room while Jennika packs u
p the few things she brought. “I mean, I can see why you wouldn’t want to stay—this place is pretty dismal. Still, I’m going to miss you. It’s nice having you around. Especially now.”
“Why especially now?” She starts to fold a T-shirt into thirds, then gives up and squashes it instead.
“Because I hated lying to you. It feels so much better to have it all out in the open. It’s good to know you’re on board.”
“Did I have a choice?”
We exchange a look.
“At least you know for sure I’m not crazy. The visions—the crows—the glowing people—it’s all real.”
She sighs in a way that tells me that just because she accepts it, doesn’t mean that she likes it—doesn’t mean she wants to delve into the details. Then she motions for me to sit on top of her suitcase so she can zip it shut.
“So, where do you go from here?” She grits her teeth and tugs hard on the zipper.
“The Rabbit Hole. You?” I push down with both hands in an effort to help her.
“First home and then Harlan’s.” She secures the shiny black lock with a satisfying click.
“Yeah?” I look at her, my smile growing bigger when she swats at me, pushes me to my feet.
Doing her best to nix my hopes, she says, “I’m committing to meeting him for a drink. And if that goes well, I’ll let him buy me dinner. We’ll see where it leads. Baby steps, right?” She heaves her bag off the bed and yanks hard on the handle, pulling the bag upright. “Need a ride?”
I shake my head and follow her to the door. “It’s not far. Besides, I could use the walk.”
“It’s still raining,” she warns.
“Yeah, and I’m still trying for snow.”
She hugs me to her. Crushing me so tightly, I’m left gasping and laughing, as I croak, “I can’t breathe!”
“You be careful out there.” She slowly draws away. Fussing with my hair, rearranging the tumble of curls that survived the night surprisingly well.
“You be careful too.” I follow her to the car. Waiting until she drives away before I cross the street, ready to make good on my destiny.