A moment later, the stone and the band surrounding it become so hot I’m about to drop it when it bursts into a million shards of glitter and dust that spill at our feet.
“Well, I guess it’s safe to say that stone’s obliterated,” I say, the two of us staring at the mess. “Still, we won’t know what became of the others until we return to Enchantment.”
“Maybe sooner . . .” Dace scoops a hand into his pocket, coming away with a palm filled with tourmaline shards and dripping blue ink. “This is what remains of the pen Luther gave Auden after signing the contract. Auden gave it to me, asked me to try to find a way to dispose of it. Guess I just did.”
“So, it stands to reason that the other tourmalines are destroyed as well? I mean, there were a lot of tourmalines out there . . .”
“It’s the logical conclusion,” Dace says. “And, for now, it’s all we’ve got to go on.”
“Since when has anything in Enchantment ever been even remotely logical?” I watch as he tries to wipe the ink onto his pant leg, but, for the most part, it’s too late. His palm will be blue for a week.
“It’s a new day.” He abandons the task and grasps my hand with his clean one. “Which means there’s a whole new town for us to discover.”
“You make it sound so exciting.” I lean against him, overcome with an inexplicable reluctance to leave.
“That’s because it is exciting. Except maybe for you.” He tips his finger under my chin, tilts my face toward his. “What gives? You nervous about heading back?”
“A little.” I shrug. “Guess I’ve gotten so used to the evil Enchantment, I’m not sure I’m ready for the new and improved version. Not to mention how the only real challenge I now face is getting through senior year. How can that ever compare to saving three worlds? Do you think I might’ve peaked too soon?”
“I think you’ve only just begun.” He drops a kiss on my cheek, helps me onto Horse’s back, and we begin the journey back to the portal with Horse intuitively leading the way, and Raven riding high on my shoulder.
It’s a ride we’ve made countless times in a similar fashion, but never with quite so much fanfare as now.
All around us animals pop out of shrubs, caves, and elaborate tunnels they’ve carved deep into the earth, calling to us in their various ways, as we make our way to the vortex.
“You ready?” Dace slides free of Horse’s back and I do the same.
Stopping just shy of the place where the vibration is higher, the energy moving quicker, I take a long moment to look all around, knowing I’ll be back many times, but still wanting to memorize this place the way it looks now. Then after bidding goodbye to Raven and Horse, Dace clasps my hand in his and we step through together. The two of us spiraling up through the earth, side by side, only to find this particular portal leads to the Rabbit Hole—though the formerly bleak desert landscape is gone.
“It’s weird to see it so empty.” It’s the first thing I say as we enter the deserted club. “With the instruments still on the stage, and the tables full of bottles and glasses, it looks eerie, almost like it’s been evacuated.”
“In a way, it was,” Dace says. “But surely this is not the first time you’ve seen it that way?” His lips curl at the corner, his eyes flash on mine, and it takes a moment to get the reference.
“So you did know?”
He nods.
“And still you let me go?”
He squints, swipes a hand over his chin. “Wasn’t easy. It took every bit of my strength not to go after you. Luckily, there was still a small a part of me that managed to cling. And it was that part that insisted on sparing you. Besides, it was fun watching Raven breach the Coyote lair right under Leandro’s clueless nose.”
We walk past the plush banquets, the extra-long bar with the gleaming countertop and sparkly snake suspended overhead. Its glass mosaic tiles flashing, blinking, appearing as though the serpent is slithering, which instantly reminds me of Marliz’s tattoo.
She’s finally free. Free of Gabe—free of the Richters’ hold—free to live her own life, her own way. Perhaps she’ll even make it out of Enchantment, find a place to settle and rebuild her life. Or at least that’s what I hope.
“What will become of all this?” I turn to Dace, steering my thoughts away from Marliz and back to more practical matters. “You’re the last remaining Richter, which makes you the sole heir. What will you do if it all becomes yours?”
Dace swipes a hand over his chin and looks all around. “I can’t even wrap my head around the prospect of owning all this.”
“But what if you do end up with it?” I study him closely, my eyes roaming his smooth brow, his perfectly chiseled cheekbones, the sheen of stubble that covers his jaw.
“Seems a shame to waste it. A lot of money was spent on the rebuild, and you have to admit they did a nice job . . .” There’s a sheepish look in his eye, as though seeking permission to claim what’s rightfully his. Both of us knowing this has always been a place of bad energy and worse deeds, and the black onyx they used ensures the energy stays. Though what if we can turn that around? While it’s true that energy never dies, it can be transformed. “Besides,” he says. “Enchantment is sorely in need of a place to hang out.”
“Fine,” I say. “Keep it. I won’t try to stop you. But only on one condition . . .” I narrow my gaze on his. “You have to promise you’ll get rid of all the Coyote insignia.”
“And replace it with Raven?” His brow quirks, his lip tugs at the side.
“Works for me!” I grin, leaning into him as he wraps his arms around me and hugs me tightly to him.
“Ready?” He pauses before the door.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” I heave a deep breath and shield my eyes as he leads me into the daylight where the sun is already noon-high. And while it’s definitely warm out, it’s not nearly as hot as it was before this all started. Hopefully, this marks the start of a cooling trend.
We take a quick detour to check on the chain-link fence where I placed the small golden lock as a symbol of our love last Christmas Eve—both of us amazed and relieved to see it still there. With everything that happened, with everything working against us, our love managed to survive.
And when he leads me to his newly restored Mustang, I can’t help but gasp. “Wow. Lita and Xotichl told me about it, but it’s a whole other thing to see it in person. It looks amazing!”
“A gift from Leandro,” Dace says, helping me into my seat before sliding behind the wheel. “I should probably get rid of it. You know, bad energy and all . . .”
I shrug. “I think you should keep it. And not just because it’s gorgeous, which it is, but because if we set our sights on trying to erase every trace of Leandro, and Coyote in general, well, then we won’t have time for anything else. For better or worse, they founded this town. Now it’s our job to make something of it so it truly lives up to its name.”
The engine roars to life with a single turn of the key, as opposed to the three to four turns it required before, and I settle into the ride and stare out the passenger window. Taking in deeply rutted dirt roads, the scraggly line of rundown adobes, the majestic Sangre de Christo mountain range rising beyond. Musing at how it all looks a little better, a little sunnier, or maybe that’s just the way it looks to me, knowing what I now know.
“It’s funny.” I swivel toward Dace. “I guess I never really noticed until now, but the horizon in Enchantment appears just as inaccessible as it does in the Upper-and Lowerworlds.”
Dace looks at me, places a hand on my knee, and gives it a squeeze. “That’s the thing about the horizon. Every step leads you toward it, but you can never quite reach it. But maybe that’s a good thing? Maybe it’s nature’s way of reminding us to never give up—to always keep striving.”
KINDRED
EPILOGUE
SIX MONTHS LATER
DAIRE
I wake to the sound of banging in the kitchen and the scent of something burning se
eping under the door.
All the signs indicating it’s Sunday.
Lita is at it again.
“Is that what I think?” Dace rolls toward me, grabs me at the waist, and pulls me tightly to his chest as he nestles his chin at the nape of my neck. His body so warm and inviting, I’m just rolling over to face him, when the banging stops, the oven door slams, and a long string of curses begins.
I try to stifle my laughter, but it’s no use. My giggling is so contagious it’s not long before Dace joins in and we’re forced to laugh into the pillows until we quiet down.
“She’s determined to perfect those muffins,” Dace says. “And I don’t know about you, but my stomach can’t survive another go of pretending to enjoy them. I’m pretty sure muffins aren’t supposed to be charred on the outside and soggy in the middle.”
“Tell it to Axel. He claims to love them. Says they’re the best he’s ever had.”
“And just how many muffins do you think Axel had up there in the Upperworld? While I didn’t really get the chance to explore, I seem to remember there being a distinct lack of bakeries in those parts.”
“You make a good point.” I strive for a sober expression and the tone to match, but the sounds of Lita cussing out the muffin pan is impossible to ignore and it’s all I can do to not burst out laughing again.
“Besides, what Axel loves is Lita, not muffins. And that’s just one of the side-effects of love.” Dace’s lips find mine.
“So, what you’re saying is that love makes you delusional?” I kiss him back. A real kiss. Not one of those playful nips meant to tease.
He grins, moving my lips along with his. “In Axel’s case, definitely.” His finger slips down the length of my neck and onto my chest where it settles at the small golden key. “What do you say we get out of town and go out to breakfast?” He pinches the metal between his finger and thumb. “My treat.”
With the way his body moves against mine, I was positive he was about to instigate another kind of treat. But, now that he’s mentioned it, I realize I really am famished. “Well, if it’s your treat . . . how can I resist?”
“Went over the numbers last night. Looks like the Rabbit Hole’s making a pretty nice profit. Funny how people are even freer with their time and money when you pay them a fair wage and allow them to live their own brand of happy.” He shoots me a sardonic smile, runs a hand along the dip of my waist, the curve of my hip.
“Who would’ve thought?” I kiss him on the cheek, untangle myself from the sheets, and slip out of bed. Pulling on some jeans and a sweater as Dace does the same, I reach for the soft buckskin pouch I left on the nightstand and loop it around my neck, as I study the framed picture of Jennika and Harlan’s Malibu wedding I’ve placed beside the photos of Django, Paloma, and Chay.
“I thought Lita would never leave L.A.” Dace moves to my side.
“I thought she’d wear that bridesmaid dress every day.” I smile at the memory. What a fun day that was, and I’m thankful we were all able to make the trip together.
“What do you say we make this a group thing?” Dace slips an arm around my waist, hugs me tightly to him. “It’s been a while since we all got together.”
“Not counting last Friday, at school?” I lift my gaze to meet his—still gorgeous, still icy-blue banded by flecks of bronze, still reflecting my image thousands of times. Funny how I still find myself checking even though the dark days are well behind us. I never have to worry about the beast resurfacing again.
“What happens in the Milagro High cafeteria doesn’t count. Besides, Auden wasn’t there. And now that he’s back in town I was thinking we could head over to our favorite blue-corn pancake place. Been ages since we were last there. Might be nice to go someplace where nobody knows us.”
“Sounds good to me,” I say. “Between juggling school, homework, and a full load of clients in need of healings, I’m starting to feel a little hemmed in. Can’t even remember our last visit to the Lowerworld.”
“It was last week.” Dace grins. “And I’m more than happy to give you a replay of exactly what occurred there.” He takes me in his arms and walks me backward toward the bed, until I place a hand on either side of his chest and push him away.
“Rain check. And trust me, I will hold you to it. But first, you have to make good on your promise to feed me.”
We head for the kitchen, finding Lita leaning against the counter, arms folded before her, scowling at the muffin pan as though it’s the enemy, as Axel attempts to eat one.
“Stop—put the muffin down and back away!” I say, using my magick to propel the offending pastry from Axel’s hand and straight into the garbage disposal where it belongs. “Turns out, we’re taking a field trip. And the best part is, Dace is picking up the tab.”
After a short wait, the hostess leads us to a table big enough to accommodate a party of six. And since we already know what we want, we’re quick to place our orders, which allows Dace and Auden to fall back into the same conversation they’ve been having for weeks. The never-ending negotiation over which days Epitaph is free to book a gig at the Rabbit Hole.
“I truly believe I should get an exclusive,” Dace says.
“I know you do.” Auden laughs. “Never thought I’d have to apologize for the way Epitaph is taking off.” He looks at Xotichl and smiles, and the way she returns the grin I know she can see it as well as she could when she had her sight.
“But you are still playing the Christmas party, right?” Lita looks between them. “You do know the Christmas party has always been a big thing for me. And since it’s our last year of high school and all, and possibly my last Christmas party—”
“Your last Christmas party? Seriously?” Xotichl laughs. “Wow, this is a much bigger milestone than I realized. Secret Santa just won’t be the same without you rigging it to make sure you get yourself.”
“Xotichl!” Lita nods toward Axel, slides a warning finger across her throat, knowing Xotichl can sense it. “Like I would ever do such a thing.” She shakes her head, does her best to look offended.
“Oh, you definitely would,” Axel says. “But don’t worry, it’s just one more thing I love about you.”
“Gross.” I roll my eyes, take a sip of my water.
“Ew.” Xotichl frowns.
As Auden groans into his napkin and says, “I think I’m speaking for all of us when I ask: Is there an expiration date on your love-fest?”
“I certainly hope not.” Lita leans into Axel, making exaggerated smacking sounds and kissing his cheek until we’re all laughing and begging her to stop.
“So as I was saying . . .” Auden clears his throat loudly, attempting to divert their attention away from each other. “To answer your question, yes. It’s tradition. Epitaph wouldn’t dream of missing your Christmas party.”
Lita grins, and pulling away from Axel, she says, “Did you see what I did there? I made you uncomfortable with an exaggerated public display of affection just so you’d agree to play the Christmas party. Works every time!” She claps her hands and turns to Dace and me. “Speaking of the holidays, are you guys staying here, or heading to L.A. to visit Jennika and Harlan?”
“Haven’t decided.” I shrug. “Honestly, I’m just trying to get through the semester. Not to mention that big, fat pile of college applications that need my attention.”
“Sing it,” Xotichl says, fingering the rim of her juice glass.
“Oh, please,” Lita huffs. “What could you possibly know about our angst and suffering? You’ve already been granted early acceptance into your first school of choice.”
Xotichl shrugs, not nearly as impressed with her accomplishment as the rest of us.
“She’s sad about leaving Enchantment just when things finally got good.” Auden squeezes her hand.
“Well, you’re not leaving yet,” Lita says. “And it’s not like it won’t always be here for you to come visit. And let’s not forget, we have Daire to thank for that. So, here’s to
eradicating evil and saving our town!” She raises her orange juice high, and we all follow suit. Our assorted glasses and coffee mugs clinking together. “Though, I have to say it just won’t feel like Christmas without all the evil and demons and creepy Coyotes and the sky burning fire.” Lita laughs. And we’re all so happy and giddy from being together with a long and promising future sprawling before us, we toast to that as well.
Going through a whole series of toasts that grow sillier by the moment, until the server drops off our plates, and Xotichl squeals, “They look even better than I remember. They glow purple! It’s a shame you guys can’t see it in the way I do because they are truly glorious. This is clearly a chef who loves her job.”
“And what color are Lita’s muffins?” Dace asks, getting us all laughing again.
“Last I saw they were a deep charcoal black,” Auden quips.
“Maybe to you guys, but to me they glow the color of sincere effort.”
“Aw, thanks, flower.” Lita grins.
“But that doesn’t mean I’m willing to eat them,” Xotichl quips.
“And thank you for that as well.” Lita stabs her fork into her stack, and we all follow suit.
The six of us eating in a happy, contented silence, when Dace calls for the waitress to refill his coffee, and I follow his gaze to see a bleached-blond ponytail with half-inch dark roots swinging over a shoulder.
The move oddly familiar, and yet I can’t place it.
Can’t make sense of the overwhelming dread it elicits.
It’s not until she wipes a hand over the front of her apron, and tightens her grip on the coffeepot she wields in her hand, that I’m able to place her. The elaborate snake tattoo that winds up her arm serves to confirm it.
“Marliz,” I whisper her name, as she turns on me with a frosty gaze. Not nearly as surprised to see us as we are to see her. “I haven’t seen you since . . .”
“Since you killed my fiancé.”
She lifts her free hand to her hair, pushes her bangs from her face. Revealing eyes that look tired, rimmed with fatigue. Though her cheeks appear fuller, her complexion flushed and radiant. And while I’m tempted to explain that, technically, it was Dace who killed her fiancé, not me, the hateful glare in her gaze tells me there’s no point in quibbling.