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  Why then did I feel calm all of a sudden? My arm fell to my side, the cold sweat on my upper lip drying as I shook myself and slowed my breathing on purpose.

  So, that was how it would end. For once, I had answers. Good to know, oddly. Maybe I should tell Max we’d die together. He’d like that.

  Unable to free myself from the morbid thought, I left my room and descended the stairs.

  The backyard beckoned as it often did. I found myself in the quiet darkness of late fall, perched on the bench against the house, bare feet not feeling the cold as I sat crossed legged and stared up into the endless stars. At least they still seemed endless. I knew better.

  Syd. Stop thinking. Just breathe.

  Right. The meditation technique I’d been taught years ago at the insistence of my martial arts teacher had never quite served me, but now seemed a good idea to try to put it to use. Sage had often teased me about the unrest in my mind. He had no idea just how messy it was in here.

  Case in point. Even as I inhaled, settling my hands on my knees, Quaid’s face popped into my head and I suppressed a sigh. Whoever came up with the idea of meditation was either not in possession of any kind of stress or had more will power than I did. My brain was just too full of stuff.

  You could say that again. My demon snorted and I hugged her despite her crankiness. She and the other girls had been so quiet since we escaped. I knew they were facing their own darkness and struggles with what we’d endured. We’d figure it out and cry on each other once the time was right. For now it was good just to hear her voice and know she was still with me.

  Naturally, Shaylee whispered.

  Always, my vampire sent.

  I closed my eyes and counted my breath. In. Out. In. Out. Quaid. Damn it, there he was again. I hadn’t seen him yet, since I got back. But being here in the back yard brought up so many memories of him it was hard to shove him aside.

  And then Liam, naturally. I reached out, knowing he was gone, feeling for anything remotely Sidhe that wasn’t Shaylee. Brushed over Galleytrot and Erica, both with Mom at Harvard. But absent their earth magic, just white sorcery calling to mine. And that was it.

  No Liam. Like always.

  Silly Syd.

  Finally the dream. The battle on dragon back. The end.

  The back door opened just as I sighed, knowing my feeble attempt at Zen anything was a lost cause. Sage would be ashamed of me. I looked up and into gray eyes, my stomach tightening at the sight of Oliver standing there in the bright light.

  He’d changed out of his imposing armor and into jeans and a t-shirt. So weird seeing him looking normal all of a sudden, so easy to file into a brand new category of just another guy I knew. Nice to know the metal wasn’t just for show, though. Muscles bunched and moved under his clothes as he raised one big hand and offered a wave, hesitant. Probably expecting me to shoo him off.

  Just another guy? Yeah, delusional was my middle name.

  I was going to ask him to leave but didn’t, instead beckoning him to join me. Not like peace and quiet were getting me anywhere. He sat next to me, the wood bench flexing under his weight, broad jaw and high cheekbones starkly outlined by the backlight over the door.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” he said, voice quiet. “You were looking for something?”

  I shook my head as I realized he felt my magical exploration, the hunt for Liam I might never, ever give up. Well, until I died with Max in the final battle. Downer. “Something long gone that I know better than to hope for.” Double downer. I looked away, hugging myself. “I never did thank you for saving my life.”

  One of his hands rose, pushed hair away from his face. “You’re welcome,” he said.

  When his arm fell I caught a faint scent from the motion, the breath of air stirred washing over and through me with a thrill of something I hadn’t felt in a long time. The mix of earthiness and fabric softener.

  No. It couldn’t be. I found myself studying his face, heart pounding in my chest. Oliver must have sensed my change in mood because he tensed and met my gaze with his own gray eyes, leaning forward and blocking the light behind him. His silhouette, his outline, his scent…

  Oh. My. Liam.

  But no, not Liam. There was no Sidhe magic, no deep roots, no oak tree. Yes, there was power, tons of it, but foreign to me even as the white sorcery was now mundane.

  Wishful thinking. And triggered one last truth, the final straw to break this camel’s weary spine. There was no way Liam could have existed in the other Universe, I realized then with tears leaping to my eyes. There was no Sidhe magic there, no Gates, no Gatekeepers. No Cian and Aoilainn, no realm.

  No O’Danes.

  I wept without meaning to, breaking down in that instant of understanding, my hands over my face as if I could hold myself together with sheer physical strength. A part of me had clung to the thought maybe, just maybe, Liam was there, like Mia was there. That he’d survived and was happy, with a wife and kids and a normal life. Without me but alive and well. Despite me.

  The truth was a hammer blow to my very soul.

  His arms encircled me without hesitation, Oliver drawing me against his chest. I should have fought him, fought the tender way he stroked my hair, his cheek pressed to the top of my head, the way the heat of his body warmed me when grief offered only chill. But I needed comfort and he was there without judgment or expectation in his power. Forget this stirring of something I refused to acknowledge or permit to grow. Never would I allow another man in my heart. This was just sheer need of another warm body to lean on, nothing more.

  Nothing. More.

  And like I would ever have feelings for some random enemy dude who saved my ass and gave up everything to protect me.

  Damn it, Syd. Just stop it.

  You do realize, my vampire sent, he’s likely part of the reason we had to go…and perhaps for reasons your heart isn’t willing to accept just yet.

  Shut up.

  I finally pulled away, wiping my nose on the shoulder of my t-shirt, sighing out the last of my sadness as I sagged in place.

  Rather than make a deal about it—smart man—Oliver sat quietly next to me with his hands folded in his lap. “I worry still what my presence here might mean.”

  Bless him for changing the damned subject. “Gabriel said you’re good,” I said. “So you’re good.” Because Gabriel and the Gateway and stuff.

  Sigh.

  “If I can help,” he said. Hesitated. “I’m here, Syd. Fate must have a plan for me?” That last came out as a question. And empathy woke in me at last.

  I reached over and took his hand in mine. “You know,” I said, “we still have two pieces of Creator to find.” Don’t remind me. “And a Universe or two to collapse.” Go Doombringer. “I’m sure you’ll find something to do.”

  He chuckled. “I’m sure.”

  I liked his laugh. Ack.

  Yes, I had a lot left to accomplish and a way to go. But I just needed a minute in my back yard in the quiet, holding his kind hand and staring at the stars.

  Just one minute.

  Turned out the Universe was okay with that.

  ***

  Chapter Thirty Seven

  I’m always amazed at the resilience of the people I care about—including me.

  First, the bad news. There was nothing from Charlotte and Danilo about the Russian mafia. Mind you, with those two it was possible no news was actually good news, so I just let trust lead the way and hope they would find something we could use to help Femke.

  Who, unfortunately, was back to being her crackpot self. Considering I now knew her soul was slowly dying off thanks to the invading chunk of Konstantin devouring her from the inside out, I at least understood what was happening. Doing something about it? Another matter entirely. Quaid was still working his magic to keep her together, a fact that increased my respect for my ex.

  Weird that the half-crazed WPC leader was so protective of the Hensley sisters, though. Mom had managed to diffuse that si
tuation when I was on the other side, convincing enough of the other world leaders that Tallah had stepped over the line. So, for the most part, the two Hensleys were at the mercy of Femke and her slowly devolving personality.

  Well, they could have each other for now.

  Piers had kindly waited to execute Jean Marc until I got back, bless his heart. The trial was going to be fantastic and I had a front row seat. Seriously though, while a side of me (I’m looking at you, demon) was thrilled by the opportunity, for the most part (thank you, vampire) I just wanted it to be over.

  Leave it to my British friend to throw around terms like “legal” and “justice”. Like the Dumont family had ever given one sweet crap about anything to do with fairness and the law.

  Whatever.

  Still, I had to admit it was fun the morning Piers and I stood outside Jean Marc’s cell in Scotland and good naturedly argued over which of us got to kill him and exactly how we were going to do it. So there was that upside.

  Two of the pieces of Creator—the eyes and the soul, whatever that meant—were still missing and, I feared, under the control of Belaisle. At least now I knew for 100% certain I could trust Trill. Maybe. Okay, hopefully. Ah, crap. As far as Fate allowed.

  I’d take it.

  I just wished I didn’t have to stay so far in the dark where information was concerned. There was that term again. I couldn’t avoid the black if I tried. And I tried.

  There was no sign still of the maji, no word from Iepa and even Bellanca and Thanos were quiet. I wished I knew what the disappearance of the second race meant, though part of me refused to care about them. They’d done everything they could not to give a crap about us, hadn’t they? So, if Bellanca lied and they were trapped in the void too, so be it. I guess I’d be forced to save them or be their doom along with everyone else when the time came.

  If not? Well, I’d like to know where to go to run and hide. Because at this point it felt like a great option.

  Who was I kidding? My mother raised me too well. I was in this for the long haul and if I had to destroy everything to do it, I’d own that whole Doombringer label, hell yeah.

  Bring it.

  My attempts to communicate directly with the black ribbon had failed so far, as though Max’s alternate’s soul wasn’t able to speak to me. Or chose not to. Either way, I missed my big drach friend and would have appreciated some facetime with his Dark Universe twin just to make myself feel less guilty about what happened.

  My one visit to the vampire mansion made me so sad I vowed not to return until this was over. All the spirit power was gone and with Ameline missing from the maji chamber, there seemed to be no reason to go back anyway.

  Something about standing in the giant, echoing foyer made me want to cry.

  While there was no sign of the Order crossing into our Universe, the very thought of Dark Brother coming here made sleep impossible most nights. Any illusions I’d had about handling him or his army—the drachmor included—were long dead and gone, turned to dust, swept out the door with my hopes and dreams. Okay, dramatic much? But if they did burst that dam and come here… We were screwed, so screwed.

  Couldn’t go there.

  Being in the veil itself felt immensely painful, the shrinking of the planes so obvious now it hurt just to pass through on my way places. I’d have to find a way to shield myself from it or suck it up and suffer along with the rubber membrane. To be fair, I didn’t blame it for reaching for me and seeking its own brand of comfort when I rode through it, but I wished it would just keep its hurt to itself.

  I was trying, damn it.

  So, I said bad news first. That means there was good news, too. Max was recovering, thanks to the Stronghold’s attention and that of his people. Mabel admitted concern and confusion as to why his wings weren’t growing back as well as she’d hoped, but he seemed calm and peaceful when I visited. There was something different about him, a retreat in him I’d never felt before, probably tied to the fact the stubs over his shoulders seemed to be healing over instead of growing new tissue. Or so it looked to me. But who was I to judge drach healing methods or the enthusiasm of the Stronghold? Of course he’d been through a horrible trauma, so his quiet was fair enough, honestly. Time would tell if his reserved solitude would pass.

  I could only hope it was temporary. I really needed him, now more than ever. Wings or no wings. Wince.

  It was nice to see Piers elected the new leader of the combined sorcerers now that everything had reset to what Gabriel called normal. With the freshening of the Universe’s sorcery, the release of all ties to affiliations, with no need for sorcery to be linked to one faction or another, things had calmed down a great deal. I wasn’t the least surprised when Piers was chosen to head up the new, if loose, collection of sorcerers. Nor that he asked Demetrius to be his second. They were still working on a name that unified all sorcerers and their ranks kept growing, oddly, even as the other magical races vanished. Considering sorcery was the first power—and that the white version was spreading like wildfire, as it should—I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised to see them holding their own.

  Time would tell what that meant, exactly. And if they would be any match for Dark Brother and his peeps when the moment of truth came. Or if I just had to ruin everything and no one got to win.

  Pessimist.

  I’d hoped maybe with the collapse of the sorcerous ties Femke might snap out of her struggle, but it wasn’t the power that was the trouble, it was the soul itself corrupting her. I assumed the Black Souls who Charlotte and Danilo pursued would have had their own affiliations severed. But would they simply work together anyway, old habits and all that? Likely. Just because they were no longer linked the way they had been didn’t mean they were suddenly nice guys.

  Sorry, back to the good news.

  Lovely to see Sass and Jiao were now inseparable. I wondered how deeply her faked betrayal had hurt the young lóng. We hadn’t yet had a chance to debrief, both needing time to process. She clung to my demon friend and had no problems showing her affection publically, much to his delight (and frequent blushing). And nice for her, her people who had once been enslaved to Moa now lived at the Stronghold. Sass was home less and less frequently and I hardly blamed him, though I missed his company and comfort.

  He’d earned his own happily ever after, no matter how long it lasted.

  Jeeze, stop with the doom and gloom already. Doombringer must refer to being a grouchy pants.

  The Hensley coven members had all been relocated and the territory assigned to a new family, according to Mom. They’d gone quietly, unlike their leader and her sister, even the werewolves who’d once been part of that family meekly accepting the change. Of course, Mom wasn’t having it completely easy, but at least her territory was whole again.

  Wins all around.

  Varity continued to impress me, standing firm at Mom’s side and being exactly the kind of Enforcer Leader my mother needed. Partially thanks to the white sorcery she now commanded like a pro, and partially because Quaid was on our side. Still, I was grateful knowing the old witch—two looming, black hounds part of the deal—had my mother’s back.

  The Zornov family, minus Trill of course, had appeared back in Wilding Springs while I was gone. Nice to see Nona’s trailer in the driveway at the house. Even more so the fact Simon joined them. He didn’t exactly sneak back in, but nothing was said about how he left and I let him have his simple, quiet return. It was good to have the gang back again.

  As way of apology, the young hacker managed to double the family fortune, to Gram’s shock. I took it as the sorry it was and wondered how much of the money he’d spend himself in the next little while on new gadgets. There was lots to go around.

  And now, the subject I’d been avoiding while wondering what the hell to do with him. Naturally, my daughter hated Oliver from the moment they met. Didn’t help the Order soldier saw past her batting eyelashes and manipulative ways and called her on them with a smirk on
his face. Yeah, that won her over. Not.

  Quaid wasn’t a fan either, though he said it was because he didn’t think we could trust Oliver. Well, he had a point about the whole mortal enemy thing. Except that nothing was further from the truth. Whatever. I let my ex have his macho bullying only because it made Oliver grin and push back.

  Snort.

  The family was on the fence too, Gram eyeing him when she thought I wasn’t looking. Which wasn’t often. It seemed every time I turned around I almost ran into him. Without asking, without anyone even talking it over, he’d moved into the downstairs bedroom Gram used to use. Whether Gram didn’t protest because she thought I’d suggested it to him or she’d made the offer without telling me, Oliver just sort of became part of our lives. My lurking shadow, gray eyes following me everywhere even when his body didn’t. And I fought with myself constantly over the fact I didn’t make him stop.

  He was the enemy. He had information that could help us. I hoped. That was all this was. And Oliver had been open and willing to answer any questions I had so far. I just hoped that didn’t change when the rest of the Universe fell apart or if he was faced with an “us or them” situation.

  At least Gabriel seemed to trust him completely, even openly adored him, a fact not lost on Ethie or Quaid. Probably made things worse.

  Who was I kidding? Probably? Might as well pour hot oil on a fire and call it a solution.

  Didn’t matter I agreed with my son. Or the fact every passing moment I grew more accustomed to having Oliver by my side. That it quickly became comfortable to find him watching me. If I had to be totally truthful with myself, my heart didn’t matter.

  Nothing did. Maybe later, maybe after this was done I could think about what my life might look like. But not now.

  The Universe needed me. Creator needed me. And I’d be damned if I was going to let them down.

  Oliver. Sigh.

  He had to have beautiful eyes, didn’t he?

  ###

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