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I push some hair behind my ear. “They aren’t home. There’s a party at Thomas’s house. His parents do it every year, and Connie forces Gran and Pop to go. We probably just missed them.” He’s still close to me and I’m not sure what to say so I kiss his cheek and bolt to my car.

I’m glad they’re gone. I need some time to myself.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Open your eyes.

And I do, screaming, in my bed. I guess I fell asleep, reading the little book Poncho had given me. Emmaline’s journal, hidden all these years.

It’s only nine o’clock right now. This is the day that will never end. I sit up and toss off the sheets, pulling my knees to my chest. Why do I keep dreaming this? What am I missing? And one who hides the truth from you. It feels like everyone’s lying about something, hiding something from me. Even my own grandma.

I pull the little brown journal out from under my pillow. So far, in the pages I’ve read tonight, Emmaline has only mentioned her siblings and parents by name. But it feels like her—which is weird since I don’t even know her. I flip to the page I stopped reading before I fell asleep.

4 July 1841

Nary a soul can fathom how it feels to be different. To have this ache in the deepest recesses of your soul for a life that surpasses what you have been bequeathed. Nor do they fancy to seek it. Tis as if every step I choose to take leads me farther and farther away from myself. I fear I shall wake in the woods, lost and alone. I am o’er wrought and gasted with the inherent conviction that none will take note of my absence. It is deserving of my family, as they have not considered or taken note of me in nineteen years. I am anxious to be free of them and mad with possibilities.

Beside me, my phone chirps. When I look it’s a text from Carter. Are you still awake?

A smile spreads across my face. Am now.

Then he calls. I answer on the first ring. “Can’t stop thinking about me, huh?”

I roll my eyes. “You caught me. You’re all I think about.”

“I knew it,” he says with a laugh. He pauses, takes in a breath. “That’s why I’m on the porch.”

“You’re what?”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay. It didn’t feel right leaving you alone.”

“I’m okay.”

“You’re ‘okay’ a lot, so forgive me for not believing that.”

I release a breathy laugh into the receiver. He’s quiet on the other end of the phone. All I can hear is his breathing. The sound is weirdly calming, even though it makes me feel things I try not to. He stayed here. Why would he do that? Is it only because I’m his partner?

“You should know the answer to that, Pen.”

I hadn’t mean to say that aloud, but the answer is the best one I could’ve imagined. We’re both quiet for a second, then I’m out of the bed and halfway down the stairs.

I swing the front door open and he looks a little surprised to see me standing there, but he smiles. I open the door wider.

“Want some tea?” I ask.

Carter sits on the edge of my bed and the sound of our laughter mingling is the most natural thing in the world. It’s eleven, and no one else is home yet. He’s a good distraction from everything else. We’ve spent two hours talking about fighting, music, school, Enforcer training, and everything feels like it’s one world instead of the fractured version that’s existed these past few weeks.

“In your exit interview for the exams, what exactly did you say?” I ask.

Carter sighs and stretches across the length of the bed. “Well, it was pretty standard at first. Dad made it very clear what I was supposed to say to ensure a good match, so I pretty much followed his script of duty and responsibility and honor.”

“That’s what I did too,” I say. It’s the answer the council wants to hear from all the Enforcers: that we want it so we carry on tradition, serve, and protect. It’s the entirety of what Enforcers stand for.

“Well, that’s what I did at first,” he says, his eyes dancing.

“At first?”

He taps his fingers along his leg. “I hate that stuff, you know? It’s silly. You can’t Pair someone up just because they answer questions the same way you do—like that’s somehow going to save your life. So I may have deviated and said I wanted someone who wasn’t afraid to lose everything, because that’s the only way you fight to win—when it’s all at stake. I wanted someone who would fight.”

I sit up straight. It feels like I’ve swallowed cotton balls, or I’m floating in the sky and I can’t feel the ground. He’s making this up. That’s almost the same answer I had.

We’re both silent for a second, but I feel like I’m wasting our moment. “Why do you smell like nutmeg?”

“You been sniffing me, Grey?” he asks.

My cheeks flush, I’m almost sure of it. Say something witty. “Most boys don’t smell like nutmeg.” Or not so much witty.

There’s a little blush to his cheeks; it’s adorable that he’s embarrassed.

“I like to bake,” he says.

“What?” I smile. “How does a boy like you get into baking?”

Carter laughs. I like the sound of it. Of him here in my room with me, even though Gran would flay me if she ever found out. “I had this nanny when I was kid—Olga—I was probably five or six when she was around. One day I asked her what my mom used to like to do. Now, she’d never met Mom, but she looked at me with a smile and said, ‘She used to bake.’ Then she taught me, but I really only know how to make cookies.”

The whole time he’s talking all I can think is that I have it bad. That’s why everything hurt so much, why I read so much into every little thing. That’s why I kept pushing away—I didn’t want to feel this. I’ve fought so hard to be where I am, to prove myself as an Enforcer, and I don’t want to love, because love means losing. Can I love Carter and not lose him? Can I love him and not make my whole existence depend on him? Can I still get what I want, my magic, and be myself? I don’t know, but it was easier to try to keep him away than to admit this.

But I don’t want him away. I want him here. Today has taught me that. I need him, as much as I don’t want to need him. How did that happen? How did he become so important to me in such a short period of time? I need this baking, demon-tracking, rebel Triad son who checks in on me.

And that’s terrifying.

Carter is staring at me. “Have I lost man points or something?”

I shake my head, tears brimming in my eyes. “No.”

He leans over and brushes my hair out of my eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“My mom and my grandma used to bake cakes together,” is all I can manage. I can’t finish the rest. The part about that being my request for my partner, the part about him being so perfect it hurts, the part about me being in love with him. Because I definitely am.

Carter pulls me down to him and I lean into his chest again; his hand strokes my hair. Maybe we really were meant to be together. Destiny, for real, and not just because I don’t have another explanation.

“You should sleep,” he says, his voice a whisper.

“I don’t want that. I don’t think I could sleep anyway.”

He’s quiet for a second. “Close your eyes.”

Open your eyes.

What does that mean? My eyes are open. I hate that demon. I hope Poncho finds some more information.

“What did you find on Vassago?” I ask. I try pull away from him, but he doesn’t let me go. “What?” I ask.