Refuse to give it any real weight.
Whether it’s some kind of prophecy—or Cade’s twisted machinations invading our sleep—I can’t say for sure.
What I do know is that the things we most fiercely believe in have a way of coming true.
And so I choose to believe in us.
Believe in a future that is ours for the making.
After losing my soul, and nearly losing Daire as well, just six months earlier, I know how empty my world is without her. Never again will I allow myself to doubt the rightness of the two of us together.
I will do anything to be with this girl.
I rest a hand on her shoulder, gather a lock of her soft, silky hair between two of my fingers. Quick to remind her that we already lived the dream last Christmas Eve when we watched it play out in real time. Cade killed her, and having discovered that Cade and I are connected—that if he goes, I go—if he lives, I live—I slammed the athame into my gut in an attempt to set things right once again.
Only, it didn’t quite go as planned . . .
“But this dream had a new ending.” She averts her gaze, pulls her shoulders in, causing my hand to drop to my side as I brace for what’s next. “He . . .” She makes a face, licks her lips, and starts again. “His face switched between yours and his, and then, when it settled on his, he forced a ring onto my finger.”
I flinch, unsure what to say. So I stare at the peeling, bubbled paint on the far wall and opt for silence instead.
But when she huffs under her breath, when her gaze bores into my cheek, I know she’s waiting for me to respond. To say something reassuring. Convince her it’s not as bad as she thinks.
Being a guy who works better with details and facts, I blurt the first thing that springs into my head. “Are you saying he proposed? Like—down on his knees asking for your hand?” Instantly aware that I said the wrong thing when I see the look that she shoots me.
Her jaw set, arms crossed in defiance over her chest, she tilts her chin and says, “No knees. Just a ring. A big, shiny, blue tourmaline practically the size of a boulder.” She lifts her hand, glares hard at her ring finger, as though half-expecting to find it still there.
“So he wanted to marry you, or claim your soul?”
“Where Cade’s concerned, I’m sure it’s one and the same.”
I nod. Allowing a few beats to pass before I say, “Okay, so where do I fit in?”
She slews her gaze toward me.
“Well, from the way you’ve pretty much staked your claim on your side of the bed, I’m guessing the dream version of me did something bad. And, well, whatever it was, I apologize. Had I actually been there, I would’ve reacted differently, I assure you.”
She shakes her head, pushes her hair from her eyes. “It’s just—well, first you and I were kissing, you know, like the dream goes . . . but then, the next thing I knew, Cade had taken your place, and—”
“Sounds like the usual script to me,” I cut in, but again, I’ve said the wrong thing.
“Hardly.” She mumbles a few unintelligible words under her breath. And while she doesn’t quite roll her eyes, by the way her cheeks tense, I know that she wants to. “Anyway—” She sighs, forces herself to move on. “When I asked what happened to
you—he said you were one and the same. That there was no distinction, no difference, no divide. That you are bound—couldn’t exist apart from each other—”
I lean against the pillows, go back to staring at the ugly far wall. Trying to keep the edge from my voice, but coming nowhere close to succeeding. “And since no one’s seen Cade since the Rabbit Hole blew up six months ago on New Year’s Eve—and since not long after that climactic event I decided to chop off my hair, which is still much longer than his, but hey, a minor detail we shouldn’t get caught up in, you actually think I might be Cade pretending to be me.” I shake my head, but like Daire, stop short of rolling my eyes.
My brother is despicable.
Evil.
My brother is solely responsible for killing her grandmother.
And yet, she’s confusing me with him?
“You honestly think I got some crazy, mirrored contact lenses so my eyes would reflect in the way you’ve come to expect? You honestly can’t tell that when I say I love you I am speaking from the very deepest part of me? You honestly can’t tell by the way I touch you, look at you, that you are absolutely everything to me?”
“Dace—” She rolls toward me, places her hand over mine, and looks at me with those astonishing emerald-green eyes. “I’m sorry I said it. Truly, I am. It was stupid, and paranoid, and completely nonsensical, and pretty much the opposite of how a good, responsible Seeker is supposed to react in times of great stress. It’s just that . . .” She swallows, lifts her shoulders, and goes on to add, “Sometimes, I can’t help but think that I’m missing something. Some terribly obvious clue that’s staring right at me. And then, when I had the dream and I woke up next to you . . . well, for that split second I thought—”