Mystic (The Soul Seekers 3)

Its execution deceptively simple—the ice melts, the stake drops, and just like that my life force is eternally snuffed.

Taking Cade’s life force right along with me.

The first solid step toward fulfilling her father’s prophecy.

She always did have a flair for grand gestures—maximum dramatic impact. Still, I’m surprised she found the will to go through with it.

I start to rush toward it, eager to claim it. Until Daire grasps my sleeve and holds me in place. Her troubled gaze directing me to see what she sees.

Phyre, standing off to the side. Her eyes dark and dreamy, watching the stake inch its way toward my soul.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” She addresses us while keeping her gaze fixed firmly in place. “You know, it never used to snow down here, so I figured I should at least try to make the most of it and use it to my advantage. It was a real labor of love. Took me days to complete. You don’t have to hide.” She skews her gaze, looks at us sideways. “I know you’re there, Dace.” Her cheeks widen, her lips begin a slow curl at the sides. “I always know when you’re near.” She switches her focus to Daire and her features fall flat. “Just like I know that was you keeping me from Cade. I’m not stupid. I know you joined with that raven. I know who you are.”

I chance a cautious step forward, all the while keeping my eyes on the sculpture. Phyre’s unstable. Completely unhinged. Best not to make any sudden moves. Best not to startle her.

I’m just about to sneak another step, when she says, “I said you could stop hiding. I didn’t say you could come any closer. I want to see you, Dace. I always want to see you. But now, after everything that’s happened, I only want to see you from afar.”

I choose to obey. Remain rooted in place. Figuring it’s better to earn her trust than to force the issue and antagonize her into doing something entirely regrettable.

“I loved you, you know.” She swivels on her heels until she’s fully facing me. And that’s when I see her eyes are red-rimmed, her cheeks are misted with tears. “In fact, I still do. Just because you choose to love the Seeker doesn’t change my feelings for you.”

Her voice breaks a bit at the end, and thinking it might provide me an entrance, I stretch an arm toward her, and whisper her name. Urging her to take hold of my hand, to stop what she’s doing, so we can all talk this over.

But before I can get very far, she lifts an arm in protest, warning me back. And that’s when I see the full scope of this hideous tableau that she’s set. The mass of dried twigs clutched in one hand, the empty gas can (presumably the same one I watched her place in the trunk of her car) lying empty beside her, and Cade’s ubiquitous silver-and-turquoise lighter pinched between two of her fingers.

“It’s too late,” she says, her face strangely expressionless, her voice matter-of-fact. “Too late for all of us.” She shifts her focus to the twigs, and with a flick of her thumb sets the torch ablaze.

“Phyre!” I shout, and though I’m quick to lunge toward her, the move comes too late.

She’s already lowered the torch to the snow.

Already ignited the gasoline rainbow encircling the sculpture that plays host to my soul.

The fire erupting in a blinding flash of heat and flames that instantly gets the surface of the outermost sculpture melting at an alarming rate. Causing the stake rigged above it to descend toward my soul.

The sight of it leaving me speechless. Frozen in horror. Watching as Phyre inexplicably directs her breath on the blaze. Every inhale and exhale alternately tempering and stoking the flames.

“I know you don’t believe it,” she says, allowing the flames to settle. Her tone, light, conversational, picking up right where she left off, as though she hasn’t just significantly shortened the life span of my soul. “But the brief time we spent together were the absolute, hands-down, indisputable, best days of my life.” She purses her lips, breathes a quick hiss, sending the flames into a mad, sudden fury again. “Those moments were the only piece of beauty I could ever call mine.” She turns to me, curious to see how I’ll react.

“And yet, you’re determined to end me,” I say, less interested in her invented version of the past than the events unfolding before me.

The fire rages.

The ice sweats.

The dagger descends.

As the torch she wields in her hand emits a hazy cloud of noxious, hard-to-breathe fumes.

“You shouldn’t blame me, Dace. And you shouldn’t look at me that way—like I’m some kind of monster.” Her lips droop into a pout, as though I’ve deeply offended her. “None of this is my fault. It’s not like I asked for this life. I was chosen. Pure and simple. And now, I’m merely fulfilling my destiny. Doing what I was born to do.” She arcs the torch before her and thrusts it into the flames. And I watch as her lips pull back at the sides, face flushing with pleasure the second fire meets fire. “As it turns out, killing you was what I was born to do.” She sneaks a peek at me. Ensuring I’m suitably horrified, she lowers the torch to her side and allows the fire to settle. “If it wasn’t me standing here, then it would be one of my sisters, Ember or Ashe. It’s our family legacy, Dace. It’s not like I can change it, or alter it in some way. That’s not to say I liked it at first, ’cause believe me, I didn’t. But once my father explained the idea, once I made the decision to accept my fate, I began to see things differently. Everyone has a destiny, a purpose. And yet most people just shuffle through the course of their lives, totally clueless. You and me are the lucky ones. We figured it out early on. Besides, I think it’s kind of romantic that our fates are

entwined. I knew from the moment I met you that there was something bigger between us. Which is why you should take solace in the fact that your end will come from me. I mean, wouldn’t you rather exit at the hand of someone who loves you?”

“I prefer not to exit at all.” I slew my gaze toward Daire and shoot her a wary look, warning her to stay put.

Phyre’s clearly gone crazy. And it’s best for Daire to keep a low profile and not interfere. Anything Daire says or does will only provoke her. Besides, I’m the one who tarnished my soul, leaving it vulnerable. I should be the one to negotiate its return.

“You disappoint me, Dace.” Phyre heaves an exaggerated sigh. “Death doesn’t just happen to other, less fortunate people. It happens to all of us. Just like it will happen to you. We’re all going to exit someday. Though I guess I should’ve figured you’d say that. It’s astounding the delusions people willingly cling to.” She returns her attention to the fiery blaze. Alternately stoking it and calming it with deep, purposeful breaths—enjoying the tease. “You have no idea what a favor this is. At least this death will be quick and painless. At least you’ll be spared the horrors of the Last Days, which, just so you know, truly are upon us. I’m afraid Enchantment won’t fare so well. It’s a town filled with blasphemous heathens and sinners. So, with that in mind, I think it’s best if you consider this as my final gift to you. Two years ago I gave you my virginity, and now I give you an easy exit from a pain-filled world.”