“Don’t force me to say the kind of things you don’t want to hear.”
She loosens her grip, casts a glance toward the far side of the room, the place where Daire stands. “Like what? That you’re in love with the Seeker?”
I frown, not liking the sound of that coming from her.
“What? You think I don’t know who she is? You think I don’t see all the signs?” She gazes up at me from under a thick row of lashes, speaking in a voice gone throaty and low. “You’re not the only one who grew up surrounded by mysticism. Unlike the rest of these people, my eyes have never been closed to the truth of this town.”
“What do you want?” My tone is impatient, tired of playing this game. It’s definitely not just me that she’s after. There’s always a deeper motive where Phyre’s concerned.
“I want the same thing you want.” Her shoulders rise and fall, abandoning all attempts at flirtation and pretense.
“Doubtful,” I mutter, already turning away. Having tolerated more than enough of her manipulative game.
“Does that mean you don’t want Cade dead?” She cocks her head, buries the tip of her tongue in the corner of her lip, challenging me with her gaze.
It’s a gaze I hold for too long.
While the words are right—the energy’s wrong.
I consider a soul jump. Promising myself I’ll be brief. But nix it just as quickly. I can’t afford to do anything that might compromise the work I’ve already done. Besides, I’m pretty sure there won’t be much to see. It’s obvious she’s been listening to gossip. Thinks that claiming to share my newfound hatred for Cade is a sure way to get with me.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I tell her, and this time I succeed in walking away.
My eyes briefly meet Daire’s as I make for the door. A mistake I shouldn’t have made. Knowing I can’t cross the room to be with her leaves me feeling more isolated than ever.
I shove my hands in my pockets and exit the club. Ducking against the constant veil of drizzle as I make my way to the old chain-link fence, seeking assurance from that little gold lock.
Needing to see if the symbol of our love is still right where we left it—stronger than the forces bent on destroying it.
Wanting one last reminder before I find Cade.
forty-two
Daire
I slip down the alleyway, sneak around the crowd of people taking part in the candlelight vigil, and move toward a place in back where no one can watch as I clasp my pouch tightly and call upon the elements. Summoning Air, Fire, Water, and Earth, I sing their individual songs under my breath and beg for their favor. Pleading with them to do me this one small bidding. Bestow the gift of a Christmas snowfall for a beleaguered town and its people, who because of my failings—my failure to sacrifice Paloma’s soul, my failure to evict all the Richters from the Lowerworld—have suffered far more than anyone rightfully should.
A rustle of wind lashes my hair. A surge of flame licks a path near my feet, leaving a trail of freshly scorched earth.
Though the promise of snow is soon dashed when the light steady drizzle increases to a hard sheet of rain.
I sigh in frustration. Bury my face in mitten-covered hands. Unwilling to reenter the club and face my friends, I head for the chain-link fence. Hoping to lift my spirits by confirming the lock is right where I left it, I round the corner only to find Dace there instead. One hand gripping the lock, the other fidgeting with the key that hangs from his neck.
My knees go feeble and weak, buckling beneath me.
My hand instinctively flies to my chest, as though to keep my heart caged, keep it from leaping free of my flesh.
While my eyes remain riveted on the very thing I’d hoped to never see.
Dace—holding the lock—wielding the key.
Dace giving up on us—giving up on me.
He turns, sensing my presence as his eyes light on mine. One look at my grief-stricken face enough to prompt him to drop the key, abandon the lock, and call out my name—but I’m already gone.
Already turning away.
Catching a glimpse of Phyre watching from the shadows, her eyes strange and glittering as they stare into mine.