Echo (22 page)

I mumble something incoherent and check my pocket again.

“So why do I get the feeling you’re trying to avoid me?” She places a hand on either hip, determined to keep me from where I most need to be.

I rub my lips together and glance all around. Seeing Lita glaring at me from halfway across the dance floor, Xotichl turning toward me with a curious tilt of her head, as Phyre stands before me, demanding an answer.

“Look—” I start, the words dissolving on my tongue the instant she steps closer. Gazing at me through a thick fringe of lashes, her catlike eyes tilting up at the sides. “A lot’s changed,” I finally manage. “Actually, no, scratch that—
everything’s
changed, and I think you should know that.” I meet her gaze straight on, hoping that’ll suffice. Let her down easy and work as my Get Out of Jail Free card, so I can get on with my night.

“You’re right.” She smiles, unfazed by my words, ignoring the determined expression I wear on my face. “A lot has changed. Including me.” She sort of swivels before me, encouraging her dress to sway around her legs in a way that’s meant to be enticing. Begging me to see her, appreciate her, in the way that I used to.

I turn away. Steadfastly refuse her. Wishing I could stomp out this tired old memory she insists on resurrecting.

“And I haven’t just changed on the outside,” she says, her determination proving to be a good match for my own. “The inside’s different as well. And I get the feeling you’re different too.”

I huff under my breath. Swipe a hand across my chin. This is ridiculous. Daire is out there somewhere, waiting for me in the freezing cold night, while I’m stuck inside this stupid club, trapped in a nightmare visit from the Ghost of Christmas Past.

I lift my gaze to meet hers. Determined to end this quickly and easily, I say, “Phyre, it’s good to see you. Really. But, I’m not sure what you’re after. We were kids when we—when you left. We’re not kids anymore.”

She inches closer, runs a purple painted nail from my shoulder to my elbow. The chill of her touch penetrating all the way through my heavy down jacket and the wool sweater beneath, leaving my skin pricked with cold. Her voice soft and lilting, she says, “Funny, I didn’t feel like a kid when I was with you.”

I flinch at her touch, aware of her sharp intake of breath as her hand falls back to her side. But I don’t feel badly. It’s all coming back to me now. The way she manipulates. Calculates. The wave of regret that washed over me the instant it was over.

“Are you well?” I figure I owe her the courtesy of asking.

She nods.

“And your dad—is he well too?”

“He gets by.” She shrugs, tilts her head from side to side.

“Okay then. I’m glad to hear it, but I really have to—”

“You really have to go. I know.” She stares at me for a long time. Too long. Her features darkening, she steps aside and says, “Don’t let me stop you.”

I push past her. Push into the night. Glad for the bite of frigid air blasting my hands, my face. Overcome with relief to finally be rid of her.

After a quick consult with the map, I navigate the path Daire outlined. Stopping before two long rows of glowing luminarias lighting either side of a trail that ultimately leads to the place where she stands huddled against the bitter night air.

When she sees me—when her eyes meet mine—it’s all I can do to keep from sprinting down the trail and taking her into my arms. But I force myself to walk it instead. Force myself to take the time to appreciate the stage that she’s set.

“Merry Christmas,” she says, once I’m standing before her. Her cheeks flushed and luminous, her eyes flickering with amusement. “I’m your not-so-Secret Santa.”

I smile. Content to just stand there and fill my eyes with the glorious sight of her.

Screw Cade.

Screw all the Richters.

This is all that matters.

This beautiful girl standing before me.

I’m hollow without her. Just barely existing. I know that now.

And while I know that what we’re doing is right—that this is the way it has to be until Cade is stopped—I also know that when this is over, there will be no more shutting her out of my life. The last few days without her were hell, with thoughts of her haunting me at every turn.

If it’s the last thing I do, I’ll find a way to make this work.

Or die trying, anyway.

I find her eyes once again. Realizing she’s waiting for me to react to her news, I say, “Oh, and I’m yours.”

“Really?” She cocks her head in a way that encourages a spray of curls to fall across her cheek. And it takes all of my strength not to pull her tightly to me and sink into the softness of her. “Well, actually, Lita drew your name, not me. But then she asked me to trade, so I did.”

“Lita pulled the same thing on me.” My eyes fix on her mouth—those soft inviting lips I ache to taste again and again. “I hear she puts her name in twice so she can spend the money on herself.”

“So the whole thing was rigged?” Daire grins in a way that’s infectious. “And here I thought it was fated.” Her eyes move over me, leaving a trail of warmth that starts at my head and wanders all the way to my feet.

“This is really beautiful.” My voice sounds hoarse, unused. “I can’t think of a better gift than to find you waiting at the end of a candlelit path.”

“I’m not your gift.” She smiles. “I’m not that poetic.”

“No?” I take another look around. “Could’ve fooled me.”

“
This
is your gift.” She hooks a thumb toward the chain-link fence at her back.

I squint, try to think of a reply, but its meaning is lost. So I go the jokey route and say, “I’m pretty sure you’ve gone way past the twenty-dollar limit. The permits alone—” My words halted by the finger she presses to my lips.

“Not the fence, silly—
this
.” She flicks the small golden lock that’s fixed to one of the links.

Still, I look at her. Not really getting it—but not caring either. My lips burn from her touch. It’s all I can think about.

“You probably don’t realize it, but today marks six weeks since we first got together. And, well, I wanted to observe it in some way. This is pretty much a first for me.”

“It’s a first for me too.” I want so badly to kiss her, right here, right now. But something tells me to wait. There’s still more to say.

“Is that because you’re usually long gone by this point?” She chases the words with a grin, but it doesn’t take much to spot the vein of worry that pulses just underneath.

“That’s Cade’s game, not mine,” I say, hoping to convince her I will do whatever it takes to be with her—now and forever. I was a fool that night in my kitchen. I won’t be anymore.

She nods, takes a deep breath, and says, “Anyway, I wanted to do something special, and then I remembered
this
.”

She points to the lock again, but I still don’t get the significance.

“There’s a place in Paris with an old chain-link fence, much like this one.” She hooks her finger around one of the links and rattles it for emphasis—the move, along with her words, leaving me even more perplexed than before. “Only that fence, the one in Paris, is completely covered with locks. The entire thing is crammed chock full of locks of all kinds. And, well, it’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. Or at least it is once you realize what it is the locks symbolize.”

I look at her, clueless as to where this is going.

“It’s a fence for lovers.” Her voice softens. “It’s a place where couples go to declare their love for each other. As a show of devotion, they attach the lock to the fence, and then each person gets a key. If at any point one of them decides their feelings have changed, they’re free to use their key to remove the lock. But from the looks of that fence, it rarely happens.” She stares down at her feet, taking a moment to collect her thoughts. “So, I guess what I’m trying to say is—I’m declaring my love for you. And this lock, on this fence, is a symbol of that love. I love you, Dace Whitefeather, and whether we’re together or apart, it doesn’t change the essential truth. If there’s one thing I’ve discovered over the last few days, it’s that suppressing my love for you doesn’t make it go away or weaken it in the slightest.” Her lips lift, but her eyes suggest the tinge of sadness that dwells just under the surface. “I know what we’re up against, and I know you know too. But—” She takes a deep breath, and it’s all I can do to stand patiently before her, not crush my lips to hers. “But the thing is, I’m willing to do whatever it takes to be together. And, well, I was hoping you feel the same. But in case you’re not on board…”

She dips inside her top, retrieving one of two long black cords with a small gold key attached to its end, which she’s quick to drape around my neck. Leaving it to lie against my chest, just like the one that she wears.

I pinch the key between my fingers. “I won’t use it.” My gaze burns on hers. “I will wear this for eternity. They’ll bury me in it.”

She bites her bottom lip, as her eyes go so bright and glittery, her cheeks so flushed and pink, I’m just about to kiss her. Just about to pull her into my arms and taste her in the way I could only dream about yesterday. When I remember I have something for her.

I place the small package into her hands, watching as she works the stone free of the red-and-green wrapping paper. “It’s a—”

“I know what it is.” She rubs her finger over the top, then flips it over and examines the back. “It’s your version of the lock and key.” She smiles at me.

“It’s also meant to protect you, keep you from harm. It’s an amulet. May I?”

I hook my finger around the soft buckskin pouch that hangs from her neck. Waiting for her to nod her consent before I loosen the string and open the top just wide enough to add the stone to her collection of talismans. My fingers lingering in the place where it lies. Finding it impossible to pull away now that I’ve touched her.

Mesmerized by the warmth of her skin meeting mine. The rhythm of her heart beating hard against my palm. Her breath coming soft and fast as she stands just before me. Looking so beautiful, so radiant—I draw her into my arms and cover her mouth with my own.

Aware of nothing more than the way her body melts and conforms against mine—the way she returns my kiss with an equal amount of desire and need. Allowing everything else to skew out of focus—Cade, Leandro, the Rabbit Hole—screw it all.
This
is all that I care about.

Daire.

In my arms.

Loving me and needing me as much as I love and need her.

She breaks the kiss, catching her breath as she says, “I’ve loved you since the first time you appeared in my dreams—long before I even heard of Enchantment.”

My eyes narrow, surprised by her words. Never once guessing that she had the dreams too.

“So you know how it ends?”

She shakes her head, allowing her hair to spring into her face, making her even more irresistible. “No. I know how the dream ends. But that’s not how we end. Dace, I was thinking, can’t we give ourselves this night? I know we can’t be together full time, or at least not until after Cade is defeated. Still, I was thinking maybe we could give ourselves this one gift—this one night—just you and me. Tomorrow we’ll separate and do what we have to. But tonight … well, I guess I need something to go on. Something to carry me through. Something to ease the ache of loneliness and pain that comes from missing you.”

I kiss her again. Fully. Deeply. It’s the only thing that makes sense.

Love is meant to be shared—not hoarded. That’s the whole point of it.

No wonder there are so many love songs on the radio. It’s a never-ending attempt by artists to describe the indescribable.

Somewhere inside the Rabbit Hole a party rages.

Somewhere inside that club Epitaph rocks the stage, while Xotichl waits for me to return so she can lead me to the vortex.

Somewhere among the crowd Leandro roots for my dark side, as Phyre pokes through the embers of a passion that died long ago.

But none of that matters right now.

Because Daire and I are together.

As we should be.

As we’re meant to be.

And when I bundle her into the crook of my arm and usher her into my truck, I watch as she snuffs out the candles lining the path with merely a nod of her head.

Leaving no doubt she’s right.

We’ll get through this. The prophecy doesn’t define us.

Tonight we’ll give ourselves the gift of each other.

Tomorrow will come soon enough.

*   *   *

I wake to the sight of Daire sleeping beside me. Her breath soft and even, her skin fair and gleaming under the slant of light that seeps in from the window. And as much as I long to touch her, fill my fingers with the promise of her—I climb out of bed and leave her to slumber.

I pull on the jeans I’d left on the floor and swipe a clean T-shirt from the laundry basket and yank it over my head. Chasing it with a gray sweater culled from the back of a chair, I look around my place for the first time in days, horrified by the colossal mess that it is.

The last week has been chaotic at best. And because of it, my apartment is trashed. While Daire and I were a little too preoccupied last night for her to really take notice, there’s no doubt she’ll notice now. There’s no place to hide under the harsh glare of daylight.

I hit the kitchen first, determined to deal with the pile of dirty dishes crowding the sink. Not getting very far before there’s a knock at the door and I open it to find Xotichl and Auden loaded down with pink boxes and white bags embossed with the logo of Nana’s bakery, one of the few places in Enchantment that’s not owned and operated by the Richters, which means the bread is pure heaven.

“We bring sustenance.” Xotichl finds her way past me as Auden follows and plunks the bags on the small kitchen table. “But we’re counting on you for the coffee, so please don’t disappoint us. You’re not the only one who had a late night. I’m desperately in need of my morning fix.”

“That’s the one thing I do have.” I return to the sink, working the scrubber side of the sponge over the stubborn film of crud on the bottom of the coffeepot. “Just, uh—give me a second and we’re good to go.”