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Xotichl dips her head and sighs. “Looks like you’ve got some heavy reading ahead of you over Winter Break.” She laughs, determined to make light of a heavy situation.

“Oh, no.” I grasp the book by the edges and slide it toward me. “I’ve no intention of waiting. I’m starting now. That is, if Paloma’s willing to show me how to read this thing.”

I glance at Paloma, watching as she disappears into the kitchen, only to return a few moments later with a tray of homemade sugar-free cookies and freshly brewed tea. Placing a mug before each of us as we turn to the book—remaining like that late into the night.

* * *

The next morning I’m waiting outside Paloma’s blue gate well before Dace is set to arrive. My grief from the night before lessened by what I now know.

It’s like Paloma said, prophecies are tricky. They can be interpreted in a number of ways. And now that I’ve had a chance to read it in the book for myself, my mission is clear.

One must die. There’s no getting around it.

But it won’t be me.

And it won’t be Dace either. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep him alive. Even if that means thwarting a prediction made long ago.

Despite Paloma’s telling me that killing is frowned upon, what she doesn’t understand is that a new day has dawned. Now that I know what I know—seen what I’ve seen—it’s clear that Cade Richter must be eliminated.

He may be human, but he’s no ordinary human. And as soon as I’ve dealt with him, it’s just a matter of time before I locate those undead Richters, since they’re only as good as the guidance he gives them. Once they’re gone, the Lowerworld will be free to heal and blossom again, the balance will be restored, and Dace and I will have nothing or no one standing in our way. We’ll be free to love each other for as long as we want.

All I have to do is rid the world of his brother.

The thought providing a much-needed push for what I have to do next.

So when Dace parks his truck before me and hops free of his side to open my door, I remain rooted in place. My gaze fixed on his, I say, “Thanks for stopping by, but I’m getting a ride from Auden and Xotichl today.”

He studies me with eyes that are even more fatigued and red-rimmed than they were when I left him. Speaking my name with a voice so hoarse, it takes all of my will not to barrel into his arms and beg him to forget what I said. Forget what he said. To forget everything and just be with me again.

He reaches for me, fingers straining toward mine, but I quickly withdraw from his grasp. I can’t afford the contact. Can’t afford to be swayed by the lure of his touch. If I’m going to kill his twin, I can’t do anything that will enable Cade to become a more formidable opponent than he already is.

I have to be patient.

Have to believe in my heart that it won’t be much longer until Dace and I are together.

I have to believe it, envision it, and think from the end.

I wave a hand before me, hoping he doesn’t notice the way my fingers shake, the way my voice trembles when I say, “We’re good, okay? Truly. I get why you have to do it. Really, I do.” I choke back the sob crowding my throat, averting my gaze so I won’t have to see his grief-stricken face.

He’s about to speak again, when Auden and Xotichl arrive. Auden’s eyes wide and uncertain, Xotichl’s head tilted, when they find me standing with Dace.

I flash them the wait-a-minute signal, about to say good

-bye to Dace when he grabs hold of me. Fingers circling my wrist, he peers at my finger and says, “You’re healed.”

“Looks like Paloma worked another miracle.” I allow a quick grin, then jerk free of his grip. The move costing much more than it appears on the surface. Bearing sole responsibility for the avalanche of ache that rages inside. “And you?”

I peer at the bit of gauze peeking free of his sleeve, marking the spot where Coyote made a feast of his flesh. Watching as he tugs hard on the fabric, dragging it down past the wound. “No miracle required. Not to worry, I’m good.”

I squint, not quite believing it but choosing not to pursue it. I allow myself to hold his gaze for much longer than I should. Bargaining for just a few more seconds of being engulfed in the sacredness of his space—telling myself I’ll do whatever it takes to make up for any damage that ensues.

It takes every last bit of my strength to drag myself from him, but I do. Heading for Auden and Xotichl without once looking back.

“Did you get any sleep?” Xotichl asks, when I slide onto the seat just behind them, trying to act nonchalant, though I’m pretty sure they’re not fooled.

“Not really,” I say. “But strangely, I’m not at all tired.” Determined but not tired.

“Me neither,” Xotichl says as Auden pulls onto the road and cautiously swerves around Dace.

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