My hand hesitates, not sure I can go through with it, when something off to the side catches my eye. The same luminous animal I saw before, just moments after we arrived.
With silky white fur and a piercing blue gaze, I instantly recognize it as Paloma’s Wolf.
It’s a sign.
But what kind of sign? What does it mean? What is it she wants me to do?
Cade is gasping, wheezing, inching away, as Phyre lies prone in my arms, waiting for me to deliver her.
I grab hold of her T-shirt and yank her back to the ground.
Forgive me. I direct the words to Wolf, to Phyre, to the universe.
One!
I slip the knife farther down, pressing the tip against the place where it says KISS on her T-shirt. Watching Phyre’s eyes widen as a soft smile crosses her lips.
“She’s here,” she whispers.
“Who?” I ask. “Your mother? Is she here to meet you?”
Phyre shakes her head, parts her lips to speak. Looking at me when she says, “You can’t do it, can you?”
Her
eyes meet mine, and we both know the truth. She’s not a demon. She’s just a sad, troubled girl who never stood a chance in the world.
She heaves herself out of my grasp and staggers toward the club. And I’m just about to go after her, when Dace appears before me, grabs hold of my arm, and shouts, “Run!”
I point toward Cade, lying in a half-dead, bloody heap beside us. And we pick him up between us, and drag him toward safety.
Having just cleared the edge of the alleyway, when the Rabbit Hole explodes.
forty-three
Dace
When the first blast hits, I push Daire to the ground, and throw my body over hers, in an effort to protect her from the barrage of shooting flames and flying debris. The series of explosions seeming to go on forever, coming one after another, punctuated by only the briefest of lulls.
“What happened to our friends?” Daire shouts to be heard over the noise. “Did you get them out? Are they okay?” She lifts her head, squinting through swirling gusts of black smoke.
“They’re fine,” I say. “Safe.” Careful to keep her body contained, until I’m sure that it’s over. “Before I even got there, Xotichl was already herding everyone out. She must’ve sensed it.” I lift my body from hers, and help her to her feet. “They went out through the front. I told them we’d all meet by my truck.”
“And everyone else?” Daire looks at me with red-rimmed eyes and an ash-smudged chin, her hair falling in limp tangles around her cheeks. But to me she’s never been more beautiful, and I have to resist the urge to pull her into my arms and kiss her. “You didn’t have much time, were you able to get them all out?”
I rub a hand over my chin, a long-time habit I can’t seem to shake. “I don’t know,” I admit, the words thick with the burden of truth. “It’s impossible to say for sure. While I couldn’t care less about the Richters, there were all those people at Leandro’s private party who aren’t guilty of anything other than having their perceptions altered without their consent. But there was so much pandemonium and so little time, it was impossible to get close enough to the vortex to properly warn them.”
Daire meets my words with a sobered gaze. Her chin lifting in earnest when she says, “Still, you did good.” She nods to confirm it, but I’m too absorbed by the possible loss to acknowledge the kudos. “You did the best you could. Without you, it would’ve been worse.”
I shrug. Look away. My mind swimming with the determined look on Phyre’s face as she pushed past me. Racing to get inside the very place all the others were fleeing.
Despite her earlier attempt to kill me, I tried to stop her. Tried to convince her not to do it. But she just looked right through me as though it were already done.
“What happened to Phyre is not your fault,” Daire says, accurately reading the look of loss on my face. “You’re not responsible for her. If anyone bears that burden, it’s me. She begged me to finish her and I was unable to do it. Unable to keep her from rushing into the building, determined to do what I couldn’t.”
“You did the right thing,” I tell her.
“Then why do I feel so conflicted?”