Page 119 of Sorrow & Strangers

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!

I turn back to face him. “Fine. Let’s just do this.”

He smirks, and the tendrils of power come at me again. This time, I close my eyes, focusing, wanting to be done with this and with him. He once again goes for that memory, but this time, he doesn’t need to explore to find it. He knows exactly where it is, and his power arrows directly at it. I try the moat, but he keeps advancing strong and true. So instead, I sort through my own memories, trying to divert him, but he has his eye on the one he wants. Just as he’s about to touch it, I slam a wall up, blocking him.

He tsks, and I feel his warmth again. He’s moved closer. “If someone is trespassing, send them to a fake memory, or distract them with fake information. The fae king is renowned for this tactic.”

I struggle to conjure a fake memory, but I manage to conjure one of brunch with Alice. Instead of trying to divert his attention, I make this the only accessible memory, but it’s draining my energy hard.

“Good. Keep it as close to reality as possible. If he trespasses, you don’t want him to suspect you’re aware of his presence.”

A separate tendril winds around the memory, trying to go deeper, and I push him back a little.

He tsks again, and my annoyance surges. “Build a new memory around me, something innocuous.”

My irritation spikes, and I want to hurt him, to piss him off. I pull on the memory of our conversation last year.

You can enjoy the boy because I am held in check by circumstance, but in the end, it will be you and me.

Your name will never be Summer Morningstar.

The words echo over and over, and I feel his muscles lock even though we’re not touching.

You will never be Summer Morningstar.

He pulls away from me, the tendrils of his power exiting my mind quickly, leaving me disoriented and dizzy.

“Did you enjoy that?” he growls.

“You said it,” I say, opening my eyes.

“But you twist my meaning on purpose,” he snaps, moving in closer and looming over me.

I tip my chin up, refusing to back down. “That is exactly what you meant.”

“I never wished for his death.” He doesn’t quite shout, but it is enough to spook the birds resting within the trees overhead.

“But you wished for our end, and you got it.”

“We’re done for today,” he hisses, moving away from me.

“Fucking finally,” I say, turning to storm away. His power whips through my hair as his avatar disappears.

Chapter Fifty-Seven

Summer

When I get home, Alice is lying on the couch, flicking through the channels of the television. She immediately clocks my anger and quirks an eyebrow at me.

“What happened to you?”

“Nothing,” I grumble as I storm past her into the kitchen. I yank open the fridge and grab a bottle of water before slamming the door closed. Stomping back into the living room, Alice barely manages to pull her legs out of the way before I collapse onto the couch next to her.

Alice stares at me for a long moment, waiting for me to speak. When I don’t say anything, she nudges me with her foot and says, “Come on, let’s go out tonight. We both need it.”

“I don’t know, Alice.” I had come up with a plan for Rafe, but now I am in a foul mood, and I want to kill everyone. It’s probably not wise to fuel those desires with alcohol.

“It’s a casual thing in the forest. Plus, it’s close enough to the full moon that the shifters are fun, but not close enough that they’re psycho,” Alice says, nudging me again.