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Much as I hate it, Leandro and I share a bloodline. And just like he said—a piece of him lurks deep within me. As much as I hate him, loathe him, I’m determined to use our connection to stop him. If I sacrifice myself in the process, so be it. Saving Daire is all the legacy I need.
twenty-eight
Daire
After consenting to Jennika’s curling iron, resulting in a series of soft loose waves that even I have to admit look pretty good, I allow her to style the rest of me too.
She runs a critical eye over the designer jeans, cute top, and the new boots she got me, before adding a few more
bangles to each wrist and a few more rings to my fingers—some of them culled from her own hands. But when she offers to pierce my nose to match hers, I draw the line. Pushing her out of the house and into the bone-chilling night, where we slip into her rental car and spend the first few minutes shivering uncontrollably until the heater kicks in and warms us both up.
“The least it could do is snow.” She glances over her shoulder as she backs down the drive. “Everything looks better under a fresh layer of snow, and God knows this town needs all the help it can get.”
“I’m working on it,” I say, fingers picking at the heavy brown paper shopping bag I hold on my lap. So busy with my mental inventory of its contents, I didn’t realize I spoke the words out loud until Jennika calls me on it.
“You’re working on it?” She shoots me a quizzical look. “Since when do you control the weather?”
Since today—since I learned to fully blend with the elements. As a Seeker, it’s just one of my many duties.
But, instead, I just say, “What I meant was, I hope it snows too. Everyone wants a white Christmas, right?”
She shoots me a suspicious look, not quite buying my attempt at a cover-up. “Don’t let Paloma fill your mind with weirdness,” she warns. “Don’t let her turn you into a younger version of her.”
To that, I close my eyes and refuse to reply.
“Seriously,” she continues, far from finished with this particular thread. “You have no idea how much I worry about leaving you with her. In fact, just earlier tonight, when you were in the shower, I actually saw her spit on a client.”
I clamp my lips shut, determined not to speak until I’ve summoned my patience. “She didn’t spit on the client, she merely…” Ingested the client’s bad energy then spit it out to be absorbed by the universe. To Jennika’s ears, that’ll hardly sound better. “Whatever.” I shrug. “All I know is she has a long list of clients who all seem to love her. It’s not our place to judge her methods, is it?”
Jennika scowls. She hates when I act all righteous, especially when I truly am right.
“Anyway,” I add, desperate to move on. “You remember how to get there?”
“How could I forget?” She slows to make a turn, then picks up speed. Bouncing in her seat as the rental car plows down a series of rough dirt roads. “Last time I was there, it was decorated with skeletons and skull masks. Hard to forget a thing like that.”
“From what I hear, they’ve replaced the skeletons with twinkling fairy lights and a liberal dose of mistletoe—so be careful where you linger.”
“Linger?” She balks. “Oh no, my job is to drive you. I’ve no intention of joining you.”
I relax into my seat, trying not to look too relieved to know that our mother-daughter bonding won’t extend beyond this car. The last thing I need is Jennika hovering over my shoulder, providing up-to-the-second tips on how to win my “love war.”
“I thought I’d head back to Paloma’s. Maybe check out that box you told me about. You know, that one with Django’s stuff?”
“I think you should.” I force back a smile, trying not to sound too excited by the prospect.
Jennika needs to look in that box. She’ll never be able to forge a future with anyone if she can’t reconcile the past.
“Or I might just go back to the hotel and crash.” She drums her fingers against the steering wheel, accurately reading the true intention behind my words. “I haven’t decided yet.”
“Up to you.” I pick at my cuticles, pretending not to care either way. Jennika’s so stubborn, so obstinate that if she guesses this in any way relates to the conversation we had in the bathroom, when I tried to convince her to give Harlan a chance, she’ll make sure to do the opposite.
We ride the rest of the way in silence, until she stops outside the Rabbit Hole and says, “I thought you said you hated this place?” She eyeballs me suspiciously.
“You sure that was me? ’Cause it sounds more like you.” I flip down the visor, check my makeup in the small, lighted mirror. Barely recognizing myself, what with all the painted-on sultriness and big, frothy hair.
“Oh, I definitely said it.” She frowns. “And I’m sure I’ll say it a few more times before I head back to LA. I’ll never understand your attraction to this place.”
“And yet you still come to visit and offer to drive me around. So altruistic of you.” I flip the visor up, grab the door handle, ready to say good-bye and get on with my night.
