Echo Soul Seekers

offend me.
    “Like what ?” I take a surreptitious peek at my reflection. Seeing a left eye turned smoky and deep, while the right languishes in a state of semi-hazy with only the promise of sultry.
    “No daughter of mine is going to a party looking like she’s ready for church .” Jennika smirks, pleased with herself for her ability to surprise me by saying something I didn’t expect. Going on to add, “There are church looks, there are party looks, and then there are holiday party looks, which, I’ll have you know, call for lots of drama, bling, and yes, deep smoky eyes. Especially deep smoky eyes. So if you can just bear with me for another ten minutes, I’ll give you a look so killer, I guarantee you know who will keel over and die the second he sees you.” She dips her brush into a pot of dusky charcoal shadow and comes at me again.
    “Dace,” I say. “His name is Dace. You’re allowed to use it, you know?” Uttering the words through lips that barely move. A sort of ventriloquism I learned out of necessity when she used to practice her special-effects makeup techniques on me when I was a kid. “And if it’ll help speed things along, feel free to make my eyes a little less fatal . I’d really prefer he doesn’t die when he sees me. I like him better alive.”
    “Aha!” Jennika draws away. Her face lighting up as though I’ve just revealed something we didn’t both already know. “You still like him—there it is.” She wags her finger before me. “And therein lies the problem.”
    I open my mouth to speak, then close it just as quickly. Deciding against the way-too-defensive, not-at-all-believable reply that first springs to mind.
    If defense is the first act of war, then anything I say will only escalate this into an argument I’d prefer not to have. If I have any hope of getting out of here in time to meet Dace, then I’m going to have to cooperate.
    After today’s session with Paloma, when I not only learned the firesong but actually whipped up a small little windstorm, followed by a brief burst of rain (though sadly the snow I tried to summon remained a wish unfulfilled)—I’ve got this surge of empowerment I’m reluctant to waste.
    For the first time ever, I feel fully prepared to go head-to-head with Cade.
    And I will.
    Just as soon as I find him.
    But before that can happen, I need to see Dace.
    I have something planned. Something that, just yesterday, I wouldn’t have had the courage to go through with—but now everything’s changed.
    I’ve changed.
    And I can’t wait to tell him.
    Show him.
    Now I just need to convince Jennika to hurry.
    “ Et voilà! ” Jennika holds me at arm’s length and inspects her work with a critical eye. Deeming the job a success, she smiles with pride. “You, my darling daughter, are perfection—a total knockout! You remind me of me when I was your age.”
    “And that’s a good thing?” I joke, remembering the pictures I saw of her in her wannabe Courtney Love phase. All pale of face, red of lip, wearing a panty-skimming baby-doll dress and a tiara planted on the top of her bleached-blond head.
    “It’s a very good thing.” She smiles. “And since you’re new at this game, take it from an old master like me— this is how it’s done. This is how all the best love wars are won.”
    “Love wars?” I can’t help but scowl. There’s just something really wrong about that. “So, all of this—” I arrow my finger toward my face. “This is really just war paint to you?”
    She tugs her black long-sleeved sweater over her leather-clad hip and continues her scrutiny. Rummaging my features for traces of her—traces of Django—too absorbed in the past to really see me.
    “Honestly, Jennika, I think that’s crazy. My feelings for Dace are no game. Love is not some old Pat Benatar song—it’s not a battlefield or a war to be won or lost. And if you truly view it that way, then all I can say is poor Harlan .”
    The mere mention of her off-and-on-again but mostly off-again boyfriend shakes her out of her reverie, bringing an immediate frown to her face. “Really, Daire? Poor Harlan , you say?” She shakes her head, causing a spray of wispy blond strands to sweep across her delicate cheekbones before receding again. “Do you know he actually had the nerve to propose ?”
    I grip the bathroom counter to keep from toppling into the sink. Stealing a moment to absorb the surprising blow of her words. I didn’t see that one