“Maybe,” I say. “But more likely not.” I take a careful step backward for his every advance.
Not because he scares me—he doesn’t.
Not because I’m intimidated—I’m not.
But because I want to lure him into my territory. Noting how the grass beneath his feet dies a quick death, only to revive once again when he’s past. But now that the magick of the Enchanted Spring is restored—now that the Richters are gone, their shroud of negative energy rapidly dissipating—I’m confident there’s nothing he can do to corrupt it. And with Wind calm and no protest from Raven, I’m free to proceed.
“You have no idea what you’ve done.” He glares. His icy-blue eyes turned dark and stormy. “No idea how you’ll pay for your foolish transgressions. You’re so mundane in your thinking. So stupid and conventional. Every time I thought there just might be hope for you yet, you do something ridiculous like saving your abuela’s soul or killing my ancestors. I’m beginning to think I misjudged you, Santos. Fooled myself into thinking you were a person of substance.”
“Oh, there’s no doubt you’ve misjudged me.” At the sound of the bubbling spring just a few feet away, I slip the athame into my hand.
His rolls his eyes, takes another step closer, and says, “Really? This again? Another performance of the Wiccan Warrior Dance?”
“The last one was such a success, I figured it was worth a repeat.”
He looks at me, confused by my words and I’m all too eager to enlighten him.
“This is the same blade I used to wreak some pretty awesome devastation on your ancestors. Sent their heads rolling with very little effort. It’s over, Cade. For real. And, if you don’t believe me, take a good look around and tell me what you see.”
He stares at me for a very long time, but ultimately curiosity gets the better of him and he allows his gaze to drift. Allows himself to see what I see—the Lowerworld slowly healing, reaching toward its former beauty and glory.
All except for the space just under his feet, which leaves me to worry.
I take another step back, this one a little hurried, uncertain. And like the beast that he is, he wastes no time exploiting my moment of weakness.
In an instant, he’s on me, closing the gap between us. Standing so near, his hot breath pelts hard against my cheek, as Coyote growls and nips at my hand.
The move causing Raven to croak loudly in protest, as Wind picks up, fiercely lashing at Cade. Though it’s only a second later when I’ve regained my footing along with my magick. I arrow my fingers at Coyote’s glowing red eyes and watch as he falls into whining submission.
“Impressive,” Cade says, sidling closer, seemingly unaffected by the gale at his back. “But if you so much as go near Coyote again, I’ll kill you.”
“I’d like to see you try.” I wiggle the athame by my side, take another step back. Gazing covertly at his feet as I continue my retreat, pausing only when the ground stops changing and remains solid and green beneath him.
He stares hard at me, searching for access, attempting to siphon my energy, yank on my soul, but it no longer works. He has no idea the power I hold. No idea who he’s dealing with now. I’m finally the Seeker I was born to be.
“Got you just where I want you.” His gaze darkens on mine. “You and me at the Enchanted Spring. Just like the dream. The only thing missing is Dace.”
I rub my lips together, stilled by the eerie sensation of icy-cold fingers traipsing my spine.
He’s right.
It really is the dream come to life.
Only this time, it gets a new ending.
If it’s the last thing I do, I’ll make sure of that.
“So it is.” I keep steady before him. “But you know what they say about dreams—there are so many ways to interpret them. Same thing with prophecies. It’s only after the dust has settled when you can pin it down, put real solid meaning to the words and pretend that’s what it meant all along.”
Cade grins. Presenting a face that, from a distance, is objectively handsome. Though an up-close look reveals eyes that are empty and dull, devoid of compassion—bearing not one single trace of basic human emotion.
“If I remember r
ight, this is the part where you get all hot and steamy with my twin. Shall we reenact it?” His tongue darts over his lips. “Seeing as he isn’t here, I’m willing to volunteer as his stand-in. I think you’ll enjoy it. You can finally see what you’ve been missing—the difference between an amateur and a pro.”
“Sure.” I shrug, my gaze posing a direct challenge to his. “Go ahead. Let’s see what you got.” I grip the hilt tighter, inch my fingers higher.
“Ladies first.” He arcs an arm toward the spring.