“Oh,” Lita murmurs, her voice, like her face, betraying her disappointment. “I thought there’d be cool stuff. I thought you’d hidden an arsenal in there.”
“Make no mistake, in the right hands, this is an arsenal.” I shove the bag Dace left well out of the way. I don’t have to look to know what’s inside. It’s his blowgun and darts, but there’s no way I’ll use it on them. And, with my friends all too willing to turn on him, they don’t need to know it exists. Then after arranging the pieces so the rawhide rattle on the long wooden stick lies beside the large drum bearing the face of a purple-eyed raven, I place the three feathers that came from a swan, a raven, and an eagle all in a row, and finish by adding the pendulum with the small chunk of amethyst attached to its end.
“Grab some pizza,” I say. “Refill your drinks, and get comfortable. I’m going to teach you how to use everything here. And it’s probably going to take the better part of the night.”
FIFTEEN
LITA
“I feel so guilty.” I bite my lip and frown at the overcrowded rack of dresses before me.
“Why? What’d you do now?”
I slew my gaze toward Xotichl. “What do you mean, ‘what did I do now’?”
“Well, I figure if you’re feeling guilty, there must be a reason.”
“Sheesh.” I roll my eyes, shake my head, but it’s really more for dramatic effect, my heart isn’t in it. “Will I ever live down my diva past?”
“Not likely.” Xotichl inches her purple glasses up the bridge of her nose with the tip of her finger.
“Anyway, I didn’t exactly do anything. The reason I feel guilty is because everything around us is either falling apart, on the verge of falling apart, or, according to the Codex, destined to fall apart. And yet, despite the forecast of gloom and doom with a ninety-nine percent chance of complete world annihilation, deep down inside I’m still bursting with the absolute euphoria of unbounded happiness, and I know it’s not right.”
“That’s what love does.” Xotichl bobs her head as though listening to a song only she can hear. Choosing a dress from the rack, she scrutinizes it for a handful of seconds, only to exchange it for another, and then reject that as well. “Love is irrational. Nonsensical. Makes you feel things that seem wildly inappropriate when you consider the surrounding circumstances. And yet, you shouldn’t ever question it, shouldn’t ever doubt it. You should just accept it for the gift that it is.” She pushes away from the rack and scans the rest of the shop.
“I guess . . .” I sigh, unwilling to concede quite so easily. “Still, it just seems so wrong to feel so good when everything around me is going to hell. It’s like, champagne corks popping in here.” I thump my hand against my chest. “And the raging river of Hades out there.” I jab my thumb toward the general direction of the green exit sign. “Not to mention how I’m pretty sure we’re starting to grate on Daire’s nerves.”
“Starting?” Xotichl throws her head back and laughs like it’s the funniest joke I’ve told all year. “I’m pretty sure her nerves were grated from the first night you and Axel laid eyes on each other.”
“I knew it!” Feeling suddenly vindicated to confirm what I suspected all along, I lean toward her, grab her by the arm, and say, “You felt it too?” We’ve never had this discussion, and I’m eager to dissect it down to the smallest bit of minutiae.
“Felt it? I saw it.” She chooses another dress and holds it against her. But it’s way too much fabric and color for her petite frame, and she rejects it well before I can open my mouth to dissuade her.
“But why? Why do you think she’s so against us?” I may be pressing it, but I’m determined to continue this topic until it’s exhausted. “After all Axel’s done for her—whisking her off to the Upperworld and saving her life—after all I’ve been through—being traumatized by having my perception altered by the Richters for the better part of my life—why can’t she just be happy for us? Why can’t she support us like we support her and Dace?”
“Because it’s unnatural.”
The voice comes from behind and we turn to find Cade Richter looking as smug, slick, and self-assured as ever. Dressed in a pair of faded jeans, a white V-neck tee that clings to his shoulders, chest, and six-pack abs, displaying them to maximum impact, and brown leather flip-flops gracing his feet. Appearing as though he didn’t run into a burning building with big, gaping knife wounds in his arm and his side just six months earlier.
No matter how many times I rehearsed this moment in my head, always envisioning me playing it cool while Cade cowered under the glare of my complete and total authority, in real life, it plays just the opposite. With me gasping and jerking so spasmodically, I nearly knock Xotichl over.
“Not to mention it’s bound to fail.” Cade’s icy-blue eyes bore deep into mine, and try as I might, I can’t break the look. “Guy like Axel has no place here. He doesn’t belong in our world. Sorry to be the one to break it to you, Lita, but it seems Santos doesn’t have the guts to tell you what we both know is true. Your relationship was dead long before it began.”
I stand there stupidly, unable to move, unable to speak. And though I’m waiting for Xotichl to step in and speak for me, turns out, she’s as frozen as I am.
“Is that supposed to be a threat?” I finally manage. Unfortunately, it’s the best I can manage. Still, I reach for Xotichl’s arm and take a step back, pulling her along with me.
“Nope.” Cade lifts his shoulders, swipes a hand through his hair. Holding it for a moment before he releases it and his bangs swoop into his eyes. One of his many signature moves. “Not a threat. Not even a warning. Just a fact, plain and true.”
I roll my eyes. Huff under my breath. But the effort is forced, and he knows it as well as I do. “And I suppose next you’ll be offering to console me when this so-called dead end occurs?” I fold my arms across my chest in an attempt to fend off the strange pull of his energy. Disgusted to find that after all he’s put me through, after everything I know about him, I still find myself drawn to him.
“Wrong again.” He raises a grin, reaches into his pocket, and lights a cigarette, despite the strictly enforced no-smoking policy. “You may be surprised to hear this, but I’ve moved on. A lot’s changed in the last six months. And as irresistible as you think you are, turns out, I’m no longer into you.”
I narrow my gaze, try to read between the words. Telling myself I should be relieved, happy to be released from the burden of his interest. And while part of me is indeed happy, there’s another part that feels just the opposite. Sort of deflated, bereft.
“About your little glowing man, you need to know—”
“Axel. His name is Axel. And he doesn’t glow.” I scowl. But more at myself than him. I have no idea why I continue to engage him. We should’ve walked away the second we saw him. And yet, here I am, blabbering like a fool, while Xotichl stands gaping beside me.