I start to turn away when Xotichl calls after me.
“Just … be careful,” she says.
I nod.
“Also, if you don’t return soon, we’re going after you. So no long reunions when you find him, okay?”
I flash a tight grin and make for the hall. Unwilling to tell them the truth—that Dace has changed so much there’s no saying what I might find, or if I’ll be able to help him.
But I have to try.
If it’s the last thing I do, I have to at least try.
seventeen
Daire
Despite the original plan being to charge straight for the vortex without any pretense, by the time I reach the bathroom I change my mind. Thinking a little caution never hurt anyone, I steal a moment to lean against the wall and fumble aimlessly through my bag, all the while scanning for Richters. Any Richter. They’re all working against me.
As soon as I’ve ensured the all-clear, I make for the long hall that leads to the vortex. Covering only a handful of feet, when a familiar voice calls out from behind me.
“Daire. Daire Santos.”
I respond with a lowered chin and a quickened pace.
“Don’t pretend you didn’t hear me when we both know you did. I will chase you down if that’s what it takes.”
For a brief moment I consider letting her make good on her word. But since there’s no point in making this any worse than it already is, I stop in my tracks.
“When’d you get back?” Her spiked heels snag the carpet as she approaches.
“When’d you get back?” I turn just in time to find her heavily made-up eyes hooded with suspicion and fixed hard on mine.
“You never learn, do you?” She tucks a lock of bleached-blond hair behind her ear and fiddles with her large silver hoop earring with a hand that seems to sag under the weight of the massive rock that she wears. A large, square-cut, brilliant blue tourmaline on a platinum band, flanked by slightly smaller blue tourmalines, that, if I had to guess, came straight from Cade’s mine.
“Seems we have that in common.” I motion toward her new engagement ring, nearly triple in size to the one she wore before. Caught by the way she lifts her hand high and flutters her fingers. Eyes widening in admiration, and … something more … something I can’t quite determine.
Her gaze dreamy, she says, “For the record, I appreciate everything your mom did for me. She really helped me. Went above and beyond.”
“Jennika’s a good person. She’s always willing to help those in need.”
Marliz returns her hand to her side as her irises clear once again. “Still, don’t get the wrong idea. I’ve no plans to return the favor.”
“Jennika’s set. She’s not really in need of your help,” I say. Convinced by the edge in her tone, and the strange look on her face, that this is no random conversation. Marliz has an agenda. All Richters—and, in her case, soon-to-be-Richters—do.
“She may not need my help, but you do.” Marliz continues to study me. Looking as though the sight of me pains her. “Go home, Daire. Go back to where you came from.” She drops her gaze to her feet, digging the toe of her boot into the dirty gray carpet.
“You’ve been saying that to me since the first night we met,” I reply, noticing how her voice went from vengeful to wistful in a handful of seconds. Her moods changing so quickly it’s hard to keep track.
“Maybe it’s time you listened. It’s the best advice I can give you.” She centers the pointed toe of her boot on a wadded-up gum wrapper and kicks it out of her way.
“And why should I listen to you, when you can’t even manage to stay away?”
“I have my reasons.” She glances down at the rock on her finger, eyes wide and luminous.
“Let me guess—you’re back with Gabe?”
She continues to gaze at the ring, nodding ever so slightly.