Fated

“Your mom hates me.”
    He laughs, wraps an arm around me, and hugs me close to his side—the warmth of his body instantly emanating to mine. “She doesn’t hate you,” he says. “She just has to get used to the idea, that’s all.”
    I peer at him, taking in a face so beautiful it’s almost hard to fathom. “Get used to what?” I ask, having no idea where he’s going with that.
    Noting the way he flushes, looks away, stopping beside a beat-up white pickup truck when he says, “Of me having a girlfriend.”
    I lean against the passenger door, trying to adjust to the thought. I’ve never been anyone’s girlfriend. The word alone implies permanence, stability, longevity—all things I’ve long been denied.
    Misreading my silence, along with the contemplative look on my face, he says, “Great, now I’ve scared you.” He rakes a hand through his hair, stares down at the dirt, but I reach for his sleeve and pull him back to me.
    “After all we just went through, you think you can scare me so easily?”
    He lifts his eyes to meet mine, face flooding with relief when he says, “Maybe we can just start with breakfast? There’s this great little tucked-away place that serves the best blue-corn pancakes in the state—though it might seem a little too normal compared to a soul retrieval.”
    I look past his shoulder, spying the first rays of sun sneaking up the mountain range just behind him. And if I tilt my head just right, it turns him into a dark silhouette surrounded by a nimbus of brilliant gold light that matches the ones in his eyes. “Trust me.” I grin. “ Normal is looking particularly good about now.”
    “So it’s a yes, then?”
    “To blue-corn pancakes or being your girlfriend?” I tease, enjoying the way his cheeks redden.
    “Both would be great, but I’ll leave that to you.”
    I bite down on my lip, realizing I’ve never been in this position before. It’s always been: Hey, meet you at the Pont Neuf at eight. Or, in Vane’s case: Meet you by the snake charmer at dusk. By the time the movie wrapped and the premiere rolled around, I always found myself sitting with Jennika. I’ve never had a real date, much less a boyfriend. Never even had the prospect of one until now.
    Realizing he’s still waiting for an answer, I look at him and say, “Okay.”
    “Okay to breakfast…” He tilts his head, studies me closely.
    I take a deep breath, my heart beating triple time at what I’m about to do. “Okay to both.” I exhale softly. “Oh, and if I didn’t already say it— thanks. ”
    “For what?” His brows merge, as he studies me closely.
    “For helping. For understanding. For not pushing me to explain things I’m not quite ready to answer. And for being so kind.”
    He leans his head back in a way that leaves him gazing down at me. “Haven’t you heard?” He smiles. “I’m the good twin.”
    I freeze, wondering how much he knows.
    “You know—good twin, evil twin? Lame joke, I know. And according to the Bone Keeper, I’m also the Echo—what do you think she meant by that anyway?”
    I shrug, watching as he shakes his head and moves to unlock my door, but just as he leans past me, I stop him. My fingers curling around his bicep, I pull him closer, and say, “I have no idea what an Echo is, but I’ve no doubt you’re the good twin.” And I kiss him under the rising sun.

fifty-four
    We drive by the Rabbit Hole, and at first sight I can’t help but think it looks like the sight of a self-contained apocalypse. The doors are wide open, the bouncers are gone, and when Dace parks in the alleyway and peers inside, it’s clear that the place is abandoned—there’s not one person left.
    “I don’t think the party’s ever ended this early,” he says. “It usually goes on until noon, if not later.”
    I lean past him to get a better look, wondering if we might’ve had anything to do with that. If we might’ve had more effect on Cade’s plans than I thought. There may be Richters in the Lowerworld—it may not be a complete victory—but we retrieved Paloma’s soul, along with a whole host of the others that were restored to the citizens of Enchantment. No wonder they no longer want to be here—they finally got their mojo back.
    “Think anyone will notice I never made it to work?” Dace glances my way, and I shrug in response. “Guess the only thing left is to make peace with Jennika.”
    He checks both mirrors and merges onto the road, as I stare out