Page 29 of Find My Way Down to You

Henri does too. “Prince Milos,” he says, “this is—”

“The boy,” Milos interrupts, his voice rich, his smile deep, “who has defied death.”

5

The wave swellsin me so fast, I struggle for air.

My fingers ball into tight fists. Salty tears threaten to slip past my eyelashes. Anger and sadness clash inside my chest. The full weight of my grief tugs on me, hard. It promises to drag me below.

Memories splash violently in my head.

The red stoplight. A quiet neighborhood. My hands on the steering wheel. Tom Petty’s gritty voice flowing through the speakers. London’s familiar, weird smile in my periphery.

Then green light. My foot on the gas. The sudden impact shattering the windshield into a million tiny stars. Sirens in the distance, not coming fast enough. London, in my arms, eyes closed, blood trailing from his temple.

Me, the only survivor.

My lungs burn as Milos’s words echo in my head.

The boy who has defied death.

I slip into another memory: High school. Weeks after the accident. All the eyes still following me in the halls. Whispers chasing me from class to class. Every empty, dark room I hid in to escape.

Troy Ackerman laughing with his friends. “August must be a superhero,” he sneered, “because the grim reaper can’t touch him.”

Now it’s hard to stay upright, on my feet. I dig my blunt fingernails into my palms until the tide calms. I can’t afford to have a panic attack. Not while I’m in this strange, unreal place.

When my vision clears, Milos is watching me. His eyes are the color of honey in a jar. A warm, playful smile sits on his lips.

“I’m not— I haven’t…” Words dry up in my throat. “I haven’t defiedanything.”

Milos looks at Henri, then Cary.

“You have not told him?”

“I was going to, butsomeone”—Henri elbows Cary—“stopped me.”

Cary’s dark eyes lock on me.

Quickly, I avert my gaze. There’s something unsettling about how intense his stare is. How it takes everything inside me to forget it.

Milos waits until we’re focused on each other again. “My apologies for their rudeness.” His smile creeps higher. “You are the first mortal to cross over to our realm in a very,verylong time.”

“Cross over?”

He nods with an unreadable expression. “How did you get here?”

“I don’t know,” I say.

Milos rubs his chin. His fingers are long, elegant. Everything about him is regal. “A mortal boy who can simply walk right into Aides—”

“His name is August.”

The sharp interruption comes from Cary. Suddenly, he’s right by my side, shoulders squared. The way he says my name—strong like a bass note, yet soft like a chime. Every syllable pronounced. My stomach dips.

“August,” Milos repeats. It sounds different coming from him. Sweeter, wrapped in fascination. His gaze skims over me, slow and steady. “As in great. Magnificent. A beautiful name to match its owner.”

Heat buzzes up my neck.