The Soul Seekers: Horizon (17 page)

When the doorbell rings, I instinctively shout for Axel to get it. Remembering too late he’s not home.

I wipe my hands on the front of my cutoffs and head down the ramp. Only to find Jennika struggling to squeeze through the door.

“Mom? What are you doing here?” I rush to help. As equally excited to see her as I am flustered by her ability to continually surprise me with her unannounced, ambush-style
visits.

“Told you I’d bring the dresses,” she says. The words muffled by the three puffy garment bags piled so high in her arms they cover most of her face.

“You told me you’d
send
the dresses.” I help her unload them onto the couch before moving in for a hug.

“Send—bring—what’s the difference?” She grins. “The point is, they’re here. And just in time, I might add. Which wasn’t easy—traffic was
insane.”

“You drove?”

“All the way from the Albuquerque airport. Now, let me get a look at you. It’s been too long since my eyes enjoyed a Daire-sized feast.” She draws away, holding me at
arm’s length to better inspect me.

“And to think it feels like just yesterday when we Skyped,” I quip, trying not to cringe under the glare of her probing assessment.

“You look tired.” She states the words with the same finality as a judge reading a verdict.

“Nothing a little concealer can’t fix.” I move to untangle myself from her grip, but she tips her finger to my chin and holds me in place.

“Not what I meant. You’re as beautiful as ever, and your skin looks amazing. I’m glad to see you’re heeding my warnings and wearing your sunscreen. But, behind your eyes,
I sense the fatigue of someone with several decades on you. What’s going on, Daire? I thought you said all was quiet on the Richter front?”

This time I succeed in pulling away, and I use the moment to steal a quick peek at her ring finger. Relieved to confirm she’s still engaged.

Jennika has a habit of bolting from anything that hints of commitment. And for the last nine months since I moved to Enchantment, Paloma’s adobe has served as her go-to place whenever
things get too heated with her fiancé.

“How’s Harlan?” I ask, just to confirm they’re still on.

“Good.” She grins, shoots a hand through hair that’s dyed a pretty, soft blonde with bits of buttery yellow streaking through. Though there’s no telling how long this
look will last. Jennika changes her hair color as often as most people change sheets. “He would’ve come, but he’s on location doing an editorial shoot in Goa.”

“Rough life.” I crack a smile, but it fails to convince.

“Not nearly as rough as yours.” She folds her thin arms across her chest and continues her inventory. Noting bare feet with toes polished a bright turquoise blue, worn denim cutoffs,
a white tank top, and hair swept back into a messy ponytail. Not a whole lot to see, and certainly nothing alarming, still she sees fit to say, “Daire, I’m concerned.”

“Don’t be. I’m fine.” I turn on my heel and make for the kitchen. Thanks to Axel the house is more or less tidy and the fridge is actually full. Last thing I need is for
Jennika to see just how chaotic my life has become. Though judging by the look she shoots me when I offer her a cool drink, she’s not fooled.

“How long are you staying?” I ask, noting she didn’t arrive with any bags. Then again, for all I know her entire stash of worldly belongings is crammed into the trunk of her
rental car.

“Haven’t decided.” She places a hand on her hip and surveys the room. “Guess that depends on you.” She shifts her focus to me, and I can’t help but flinch
under such intense scrutiny.

I can slay demons, stand up to the evilest of Richters, and yet, one knowing look from my mom and I’m coming apart.

Last January, when we said goodbye, it was with the firm understanding that I’d keep in touch, keep her informed, and she’d leave me to do what I must. While she may not like my
being a Seeker, she seemed to accept it as something she could neither interfere with nor change. But now, despite keeping to my end of the deal, she latches onto the flimsiest excuse she can find
to show up at the absolute, worst possible time.

She settles herself at the kitchen table, takes a sip of iced tea, and levels her gaze right on me. “How’s Dace?”

On the surface, the question is simple, straightforward, packed with no apparent agenda. And yet, it’s pretty much the worst thing she could’ve asked. Dace has become such a
hot-button topic, even my friends have stopped referring to him.

Though that’s not to say I don’t think about him.

Because I do.

Nearly every second of every day.

Dace is always with me, simmering just under the surface. Still, it’s been so long since I’ve talked about him, I’m unsure what to say.

I stifle a sigh, drop onto the seat opposite hers, and decide to lead with the truth. “Honestly, I don’t know. It’s been a while since we last spoke.” My shoulders tense,
my fingers twist tightly together, as I wait for her to break into a rousing chorus of the
I-told-you-so
song.

Jennika was never a Dace fan. Right from the start she was fully convinced he was put on this earth with the sole task of breaking my heart. While the assessment speaks mostly of her own
well-documented fear of commitment—it’s strange how it echoes the prophecy.

It took a long time for Jennika to come around. And while she never quite embraced our relationship, she did resign herself to the idea of the two of us being together.

But now, with just a few simple words, I’ve proven her right.

I pick at the underside of the table, waiting for her to react. Jennika has the tenacity of a pit bull. She will gladly sit here all night if that’s what it takes to get me to spill.

“Dace and I are on a break.” I cringe when I say it, bracing for one of her sarcastic comebacks. But when she continues the silence, I add, “It’s . . .
complicated.”

“Try me.” The diamond stud in her nose quivers and glints. Her green eyes meet mine.

I swallow hard, grasp the edge of the table so hard the table’s wood grain leaves marks on my skin. I don’t want to discuss it. Can’t bear to say the words. And yet, next thing
I know, I’m spilling the whole sordid tale. The words spewing so quickly I’ve no time to vet them.

To her credit, Jennika refrains from all comment. She just nods, sips her tea, and sighs in all the appropriate places, until I’m all out of words, all out of breath, and she lifts her
chin and says, “Well, you know what you have to do, right?”

I push away from the table, tilt my chair back on two legs in the way that she hates. “I know what I’m going to do. And, if you’re like everyone else, it’s not even close
to what you’re thinking.” The words are sharp, but not nearly as sharp as the accusing look on my face.

I was sure she’d follow the usual Jennika script. Use my tale of woe to gloat, tell me she knew it all along. I never expected her to highjack my pain as a teachable moment to reinforce
how I need to take down my boyfriend.

“You’re acting as though you have a choice, when clearly you don’t.” She runs a slow finger around the rim of her glass.

“According to who?” I start to say more, start to say something I’ll surely live to regret—but then I think better, and talk myself down. Getting upset won’t do any
good. If anything, it will only serve to prove her point. If she thinks I’m being irrational, then it’s my job to prove just the opposite.

“If Dace is fated to go dark—fated to kill you along with everyone else—then I can’t see what you can possibly do to change that. It’s your duty to protect the
citizens of Enchantment, Daire, or at least that’s the story you once told me. If you fail to keep the three worlds in balance . . . well, I can’t even imagine the result. There is too
much at stake, you can’t allow yourself to be led by your heart!”

“It’s my duty to protect the citizens of Enchantment, yes, and, in case you’ve forgotten, that includes Dace! Sheesh, Jennika, I thought out of everyone, you’d be the one
who might understand. Nice to know you’re against me as well.”

“I’m not against you, Daire, I’m merely against your decision. I think you’re being reckless, dangerous, woefully misguided, and I’m begging you to
reconsider.” She pushes away from the table and carries her glass to the sink. Leaning against the tiled counter, she turns and says, “Daire, I get that you love him. I get that
it’s your first love, which makes it all the more powerful. But if I hear you correctly, then Dace isn’t really Dace anymore. He’s not the boy you fell for. He’s being
eroded by this . . . beast, as you call it. And it won’t be long before there’s not a trace of him left. You need to deal with that now, get it straight in your head before it’s
too late. You need to prepare yourself for the hard choices to come. You need to be ready to face the inevitable.”

“Guess that’s where you and I differ. I don’t believe it’s inevitable. I may be new at love but if there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s that love knows
no boundaries. Not when it’s real. Not when it’s true. The feelings Dace and I share can never be destroyed by a beast or anything else. We’re not like everyone else. We
don’t fit into a convenient slot. We can’t be labeled and catalogued quite as easily as you’d like. Dace did this for me—to help me with my fight against the Richters. He
acted with the noblest of intentions, and I plan to honor him with the same level of sacrifice. I won’t kill him, and that’s all there is to it.”

Jennika sighs. Her face is as resigned as her voice when she says, “You know, I have a thousand arguments lined up and ready to go. And yet, I know how stubborn you are—and I know
you got that from me. I’ll never be able to convince you, will I?”

I shake my head.

“But that doesn’t mean I won’t continue to try.” She quirks a brow.

“I’ve no doubt.”

“So, can we call a truce—at least for now?”

“I’ve been doing that a lot lately.”

I settle into my seat, sure that the worst is over, when she moves toward the blue tourmaline I left on the handrail that leads to my office and squeals, “Is this what I think?”

She reaches for the stone, but before she can get to it, I use telekinesis to arc it away from her grip and into my hand, as she turns on me with a face full of outraged disbelief. “Answer
me, Daire!”

“Yes.” I shove it deep into my front pocket.

“And why is it here? What are you doing with it? And, more importantly, is it still dangerous?”

I answer with an uncertain look.

“I see.” Her face is strained, voice grim. “And yet, you see fit to carry it around in your pocket?”

“It’s . . . complicated . . .”

“You’ve used that phrase twice now.” She folds her arms over her chest, kicks a leg out before her. Staring down the length of her skinny white jeans, she says, “The way
I see it, the only thing complicated around here is your reasoning. First, you tell me your boyfriend is destined to destroy the world and everyone in it, but you choose to ignore it because you
believe your love will prevail. Then you see fit to hang onto the very same stone that’s responsible for killing your grandmother.” I start to respond, but one flash of her palm is all
it takes to silence me. “Excuse me for saying so, but I can’t help but wonder if the two are connected. If you’re so devastated by what’s happening between you and Dace that
it’s clouding your judgment and causing you to take unhealthy risks.”

“It’s not like that. You’ve got it all wrong.”

“Well, until you do a better job of explaining, I’ll stand by my opinion.”

“It truly
is
complicated. Nothing is black and white. Nothing is what it seems. It’s the fundamental rule of Enchantment, and it seems you’ve forgotten it.” She
lifts her brow, but allows me to continue. “So add this to the list of things we’ll agree to disagree on.”

“I’m sorry, Daire, but I can’t be that glib. What happened to my sensible, if not cynical daughter?”

“I’ve recently discovered what I suspected all along—cynicism is overrated and overvalued. It’s the shield people hide behind in the mistaken belief that it makes them
appear cool, strong, and impenetrable. But true bravery isn’t about following the crowd or pretending not to care—it’s about daring to trust in yourself and staying true to your
heart in the face of dissent. True courage is going out on a limb for the people you love because it’s the right thing to do.” Jennika looks at me long and hard but refrains from
further comment. “While it may upset you, while you may find it disconcerting, my drive to save Dace isn’t nearly as foolish as you think. I know what I’m doing, Jennika.
I’ve trained long and hard to get to this point. Yet, despite the magick I wield, despite the numbers of demons I’ve slayed, despite the evil I’ve witnessed firsthand, in the end,
I’m putting my faith in the power of love. Everything else pales in comparison.”

I stand before her, unsure what comes next. While I’m sure I haven’t convinced her, it seems I have silenced her. Still, there’s one thing left to say—a promise I
desperately need to extract.

“I only ask that you refrain from mentioning the tourmaline to my friends.” My gaze pleads with hers. “In fact, please don’t mention it to anyone.”