eleven.

Dace Daire walks away from my truck.

Away from me.

Determined. In a hurry. Her shiny brown hair sailing behind her in a way that seems almost mocking. As if to say: You want me? You want to fold me in the palm of your hand, and weave your fingers around my soft, silken strands? Feel free-your demonic brother would love nothing more!

I curse under my breath, kick stupidly at the dirt, and climb inside my truck. An ugly mess of sc.r.a.ped-together bits that, thanks to countless hours bent under the hood, and layers of grease on my hands, houses an engine that purrs.

I glance in my rearview mirror, watching as Daire settles onto Auden's backseat. Her deep green eyes shining like emeralds, her cheeks flushing pink-smiling so brightly I close my eyes and pretend she smiles for me.

When I open my eyes again, they're gone. Leaving me to stare into their dust, unable to do anything more than shake my head, spear a hand through my hair, and remember a time when I thought its length was the only thing that distinguished me from my twin.

Yesterday I was naive.

Today, not so much.

Not after seeing the way he rose up before us-morphed into a freaking snake-tongued beast.

Then there was Daire-looking horrified, sure, but not one bit surprised to see him that way. Making me wonder if she had the dream too?

The one where Cade turned into a monster, stole her soul, and left her lying dead in my arms.

It's a dream I've dreamed too many times.

I drive my knuckles hard against my eyes in a failed attempt to stop them from burning-the direct result of a night spent in torment. Every time I tried to sleep, images of Daire swam in my head. Her eyes gazing at me-trusting me, loving me, giving herself in a way that frightened her more than me.

I was sure it was just the beginning.

Sure that our love could only grow from there.

I'd never felt happier, never felt more fulfilled than I did lying beside her. Vowing to dedicate the rest of my life to making her as contented as I was.

It was a promise I intended to keep.

Still do.

Our separation is temporary. A bitter necessity. It's what I have to do to keep her safe until I can find a way to deal with Cade.

And though every last bit of it's true-it leaves me no comfort.

Five minutes without her is unbearable.

A lifetime is completely unthinkable.

But while I can't risk going near her just yet, can't afford to even think about her without enabling Cade, I will find a way to end this. I've no choice. That recurring dream where she dies in my arms is hardly coincidence. It's a prophecy. There's no doubt in my mind.

A prophecy I plan to stop no matter the cost.

There's no way I'll stand by and watch as Daire dies. If anyone ends up dead, it'll be Cade. And if not Cade, then I'll gladly take his place. If I do nothing else with my ill-conceived existence, I'll make sure Daire goes unharmed.

I yank hard on the wheel-this ancient heap of rust and metal predates power steering by a decade. About to pull onto the street, when Daire's grandmother comes through the painted blue gate and looks right at me.

"Although I've long suspected, I couldn't be sure until now." Her voice is light and breathy, as though returning to a prior conversation I don't remember having. Confusing me further when she adds, "I'm so sorry."

I shrug. Rub my thumb over the wheel. There's a lot to be sorry for lately, but my guess is she's referring to my broken relationship with Daire.

"You are better than the circ.u.mstances of your birth," she says.

Oh. That.

"You must strive to rise above it. You hold the potential for greatness. You must never forget that."

She studies me, while I study my hands, unsure how to respond.

"Whatever you do, please don't beat yourself up. Your mother has indulged in enough self-recrimination for both of you, don't you think?"

I meet her gaze, wondering how she does it-how any of the elders do it. Paloma, Leftfoot, Chepi, and Chay-how do they remain so hopeful and optimistic in a world overflowing with pain?

"Because we have no choice." She smiles faintly, answering the thoughts in my head. "There will always be light and dark. How would we recognize one if not for the existence of the other?"

I hold her gaze, knowing I have her full understanding and support. But too overcome by the shame of her knowing what I am-how I came to be, the hideous truth no one bothered to tell me-to appreciate the look of compa.s.sion she gives me.

"You must fight the urge to fight fire with fire-no good will come of that. You must lean on your inner goodness and light." She pats my arm for emphasis, her touch brief, fleeting, but comforting all the same.

Then she steps away from the truck, pulls her cardigan tightly around her, and waves me away. The troubled look on her face blunted by the swirl of dust I stir in my wake.

When I pull into the school parking lot, the s.p.a.ce next to Auden's is free. But I know better than to park there. Keeping my distance starts here. Now. So I start to drive on, making for the other side, when I notice only two people climb out of Auden's wagon, and Daire isn't one of them.

"Where is she?" I punch the brake hard. Search the area for some sign of her.

Eyeballing Auden, who turns to Xotichl, who turns in my direction and says, "She never made it this far-she had us drop her in town."

"In town-why?" I rub a hand over my chin, trying to make sense of why she'd do such a thing. Watching as Xotichl chews her lip, deciding just how much she should tell me.

Her shoulders rising and falling, she says, "Honestly, she's up to something-I just don't know what. All I can say for sure is that her energy was very determined. And, Dace, just so we're on the same page-I know what happened yesterday. Which just makes me even more worried."

The car behind me honks. It's Lita, lowering her window and greeting me with a sarcastic smile. "Hey-Dace. You taking that s.p.a.ce or what? 'Cause if not, I'd really like to have it. Sometime today would be good!"

My eyes meet Auden's, seeing him shake his head and laugh as I wave Lita in. If Xotichl's worried, I'm worried. And that's all it takes for me to exit the lot as quickly as I entered.

Telling myself I just need to see her. Make sure she's okay. Once that's done, I'll head back to school, do what's expected, and I won't think about her again.

But no matter how many times I repeat it, I know it's not true.

twelve.

Daire The bell on the door clangs loudly behind me, causing a handful of customers to stop what they're doing long enough to give me a quick, appraising look.

Gifford peers up from his register, eyes widening in recognition. He calls to me in a cheerful voice, saying, "Hey there-miss your bus? Fresh batch of postcards just arrived-they're right over there." He points toward the rack bearing depressing pictures of this miserable three-block town. Completely unaware that he's just reminded me of one of the very worst times in my life. The day I nearly died just a few steps from here.

Still, bad as that was, yesterday was worse. Much worse. With Paloma's help, that broken leg I suffered outside the Rabbit Hole took only a few weeks to heal. If today doesn't go as planned, my broken heart may never recover.

I smile faintly. Reminding myself he means well-not everyone in this place is a Richter. Then I make for the s.p.a.ce in back where the coffee is served. Hoping to grab one of those round tables with the bright pink tablecloths, use it as a temporary hideaway until it's time to make good on my plan.

Though the second I see Chay hunched over a coffee and sweet roll while reading the paper, I start to head back the same way I came. Not getting very far before he's rising from the table and calling after me, leaving me with no choice but to own up and greet him.

"Hey," I say, hooking my bag on the seat opposite his.

He pushes his plate toward me, offering to share his danish. But tempting as it looks with the melted sweet cheese, the sugared fruit, and the overall promise of yum, I swore to Paloma I'd lay off the junk, and it's a vow I intend to keep.

"No thanks. I'm still on the wagon." I slide it back toward him. "Permanently on the wagon if Paloma has her way. But don't worry, I won't tell her how you spend your mornings."

He laughs when I say it, eyes crinkling and fanning in a riot of wrinkles. His good humor so infectious I can't help but laugh too, amazed by the way it instantly brightens my mood.

"How 'bout we make a deal," he says. "You don't tell Paloma I'm still indulging my sweet tooth despite all her warnings about the evils of sugar, and I won't tell her you're ditching school." When his gaze levels on mine, there's not one trace of mirth left in his eyes. "That is what's going on here, right?"

I lift my brow and shrug. No longer in a sharing mood. I push away from the table and help myself to the dregs of scorched coffee from a pot that's nearly empty. A good example of false advertising if I've ever seen one. So much for freshly brewed.

Taking a first, tentative sip, when Chay says, "And if that's the case, why'd you come here?"

"Not a whole lot of options this time of day. Or any other time, for that matter. After all, this is Enchantment we're talking about. Not exactly the excitement capital of the world." I add two creamers to my cup, hoping it'll take the edge off. It's dry creamer instead of liquid, the kind that would definitely not meet with Paloma's approval. But it's all I have to work with, and sometimes allowances must be made.

"I don't know," Chay says, "I can think of a hundred other things you could be doing."

"Name one." I dip one of those slim plastic sticks into my coffee and go to town with the stirring.

"Kachina loves an early morning ride." Chay studies me as I return to my seat.

"As do I." I take another sip that's better than the first, but only slightly so. "Guess I felt the need to be surrounded by people instead of nature. And what better place than right here?"

Chay pauses, a forkful of danish hovering between his plate and his mouth. "How about school? Lots of people there. People your own age, even." His eyes meet mine. He is not a man one can easily fool. "Daire, what's really going on here?" His voice turns sober and serious, having reached the end of the joke.

I stare into the clouds of clumpy coffee and sigh, saying, "Where to begin?"

"Wherever you'd like." He folds his paper in half and pushes it to the side, as I splay my hands on either side of my cup, weighing my options.

Chay is Paloma's trusted friend, and as I recently discovered, he's also her boyfriend. He's seen me at my absolute, sulkiest worst. Drove me all the way from Phoenix to Enchantment without a single complaint. Accompanied me to the place of my vision quest and gave me the confidence I needed to venture into that cave. He left Kachina in my care for however long I choose to look after her.

He's a good man.

Someone I can trust.

Maybe not with everything, but then I have no intention of telling him everything.

I lift my gaze to meet his, take a deep breath, and plunge in. Watching as he twists nervously at the eagle ring he always wears with the two golden stones standing in for the eyes, when I tell him all about the Lowerworld going to h.e.l.l. Going on to explain about the Echo, how I finally discovered what it truly means, for Dace, for Cade, for all of us.

"And then, of course, there's the small matter of the prophecy," I say, voice filled with sarcasm, when the truth is, the prophecy looms larger than life-it's all I can think about. And it'll no doubt remain that way until I find a way to kick it to the curb-which is something I plan to do soon. Really soon. As soon as I can ditch Chay and cross the street to the Rabbit Hole. "You know about the prophecy, right?"

Chay leans over his coffee, purposely avoiding my eyes. "A prophecy can be interpreted in many ways."

I lean back in my seat, giving up on my coffee before I can take a third sip. "That's exactly what Paloma said." I regard him carefully, taking in the long, dark hair-not as long as Dace's but still long enough to pull back into a ponytail that falls just past his shoulders-the high cheekbones, the wide mouth, the brown weathered skin, and the kindest eyes I've ever seen-other than Dace's.

"Paloma is a wise woman." Chay grins. Taking a moment to finish the danish and clear the crumbs from his lips, before he goes on to say, "But that still doesn't explain why you're here."

"Doesn't it?" I c.o.c.k my head, daring him to take a stab at guessing the truth, since I have no plans to reveal it.

He leans back in his seat, eyes narrowed in consideration. Clearly sensing my meaning, though probably not in its entirety, he tosses back the rest of his coffee and pushes away from the table. "Let's you and me take a walk."

I follow him outside, having no idea where he's taking me, though I'm pretty sure it won't be the Rabbit Hole. Or at least I hope not. I don't need an escort. Some things I'm destined to do on my own.

"Where we going?" I pause beside him on the curb, allowing a line of cars to pa.s.s before we cross.

"Bookstore." He trains his focus to the opposite side of the street where Dace watches me from his truck.

I know without looking it's him.

I can feel the stream of unconditional love that always surrounds me whenever he's near.

It takes every last bit of my strength to ignore it. To not look his way. To not jump up and down, waving my hands frantically over my head, as I shout out his name.

It's bad enough that I love him. Expressing that love is out of the question.

Or at least for now, anyway.

"I need to stop in here first," I say, grasping Chay by the elbow and steering him into the corner liquor store, where, once inside, I lean against the wall and fight to steady myself.

"You okay?" Chay peers hard at me.

I nod. Summoning the composure to say, "Would you mind grabbing a pack of cigarettes for me? I'm not old enough to buy them."

He quirks his brow, shoots me a dubious look.

"It's the demon snack of choice," I remind him. "And you never know when you'll need them."