“Lita—” I’m quick to interrupt before she can go any further. “You have to let it go. Seriously. It’s finished. O-V-E-R. And it wasn’t your fault. You were literally under his spell.”
“You telling me to move on?” Her tone is amused.
“No, the fact that you left him means you already moved on. I’m telling you to take all of that energy you waste in chastising yourself, and channel it toward more useful endeavors.”
“I would.” She breathes an exaggerated sigh. “But Daire said we can’t kill Cade. Or at least not yet, anyway.”
We burst into laughter, both of us buoyed by the assurance that the very worst is behind us. Daire is back. Dace is alive. Whatever comes next can only pale in comparison.
“Still,” I venture. “I have an idea…”
“I’m listening…”
“Okay, this is the crazy part, but—you know that church, the one where Phyre’s dad preaches?”
“I’ll tell you right now I don’t like where this is going.” Her energy alters, becoming increasingly agitated, as she fidgets in her seat. And since the magick of the Lowerworld is still with me, it appears as a bundle of frenetic, Lita-shaped curves and shadows that repeatedly contract and expand. But I keep that bit to myself. Wanting to see if it lasts before I share the news with my friends.
“Just hear me out.” I face the side window, watching as a series of light boxy forms stream past, which I assume are the adobe-style homes most of us live in. “While I get that you don’t like the idea, I think we should go there.”
She slows into a turn. “You’re joking, right?” When I fail to respond, she says, “You actually want to go to that cardboard pulpit he calls a church?” She shakes her head in a way that emits a stream of energy so chaotic and streaky, I have to bite back a laugh. “Why would you ask me to do that? What reason could you possibly have? Do you secretly hate me? Is this your revenge for all of those years when I acted like a total bitch even though, as I recently discovered, it wasn’t my fau
lt? Because I thought you were above that sort of thing, Xotichl. I really did.” She pauses for breath and I’m just about to speak, when she starts up again. “I mean, we’re talking Suriel Youngblood—the snake-wrangling zealot. The same crazy freak who was always preaching about the Apocalypse, or Armageddon, or the Last Days or whatever he calls them, back when we were kids. He scared the crap out of me the day he barged into the hair salon and started screaming about vanity being one of the seven sins and setting fire to all of the fashion magazines. What was supposed to be a special mother/daughter day of bonding, ended up giving me nightmares for years. Even as the cops were hauling him away, he kept right on preaching. That’s how big of a lunatic he is. And just so we’re clear, all of this is a very long-winded way of saying, sorry, but no. No way. Hell no. He’s a freak and he gives me the heebs.”
“Okay.” I sigh as though I’ve already moved on. “I was just thinking, maybe … but no … never mind…”
“What—you were just thinking what?”
“Well, I was just thinking that the whole thing might be connected. You know, Phyre showing up when she did. Just days before the whole thing with Daire, Dace, and Cade went down. And her father’s crazy obsession…”
Lita fidgets with the steering wheel. “You don’t think that was a coincidence?”
“I don’t even believe in coincidence. There’s a connection, I’m sure of it. And while I can’t get a read on her, which is strange enough in and of itself, I am one hundred and one percent certain there’s something very odd about that girl. And wasn’t it just last night when you went on and on about how you don’t trust her, and how Daire never trusted her, and how you were committed to getting to the bottom of it…”
“So I did. And while I meant every word of it, I cannot even begin to imagine how attending one of her dad’s scary sermons is going to help.”
“I don’t even know if he’ll be having a sermon. I just thought if we could head over there now, and—”
“Now?” Lita gasps. “This is even worse than I thought! We’re filthy. We haven’t slept. What could be the point of this?”
“I just thought we could get a read on the place. Find out just exactly what it is that he’s preaching about.”
“He’s preaching about the same crazy crap he’s always preached about. The Apocalypse, Armageddon, the Last Days, the End Times, I already told you.”
“But is he still obsessed with those things? And if so, what are the specifics? I need details—names, places, dates. How exactly does he figure the world is going to end?”
“You think he’s working with the Richters?”
I shake my head. “No. I think he works only for himself. He’s as vain and egocentric as they come. But I’ve no doubt there’s something very weird going on with him and his daughter, and I think it involves Dace and Cade.”
“Okay, so why me? Why don’t I drop you off at Auden’s and the two of you can enjoy a nice romantic date at Suriel Youngblood’s House of Crazy?”
“Because you’re here and Auden is probably still sleeping.”
“So it’s true, I am a consolation prize.”
“Also, because everyone in this town knows you. And if Suriel is preaching, I figure he’ll be so thrilled to see you in the pews he’ll do his best to impress you and really amp up the message, maybe even reveal more than he intends to.”
“Oh, how you flatter me, Xotichl Gorman.” She huffs under her breath, wanting me to know how unhappy she is with this turn of events. “So if I did decide to go through with this—and I’m not saying I have—but if I did, then what’s in it for me?”