This time, when the dream started I knew exactly who I was in it and what was happening.

Inside what looked like a small, bare bedroom, the young woman halted in front of me, her eyes filled with tears. “You have to understand. I love him. I can’t live without him. I need to stay with him.”

The actions and words took me over, as if I had rehearsed them a long time ago. I retreated a few steps from her and stared at her as if I didn’t know her at all.

Dread surged in my chest. “What did you do?” I asked. She put a hand over her mouth to stifle a sob. Her silence was enough. “No, you didn’t. No, please, tell me you didn’t.”

Slowly, she dropped her hand and met my eyes. “I did,” she whispered. “I’m sorry. I knew you wouldn’t understand if I asked for your help. So I did it alone.”

I shook my head as panic replaced the dread in me. “Oh my gods.”

She reached for my hand. “We’ll still be sisters and friends. Forever.”

I took another step back. “No. Not forever.” Anger and betrayal edged my panic and I welcomed them. “I can’t believe you did this. Do you have any idea of the consequences? Of course, you don’t. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have done it.”

“I know the consequences.” She wiped her tears. “I chose him over whatever may happen.”

“May happen? It will happen!”

I stormed out of the bedroom and the world spun in darkness. I blinked and the dark dissipated. I was back in the volcano, and in front of me, Morgan stood with his hand on his stomach, blood seeping between his fingers.

“You killed me,” he said, his voice laced with shock and disgust.

“Oh, God,” I whispered, reaching for him. “I didn’t.”

“You killed me!” he screamed.

I halted. “Please, forgive me.”

“I knew you were evil. I knew you would ruin us all.”

Tears brimmed in my eyes. “No, no.”

“You, Nadine, will be the end of our world.”

I sat up in my bed, breathing hard. My hand jumped to my racing heart and I was glad this time there was no pain with the nightmare.

What the hell was that? First the crazy dream, then the nightmare with Morgan? What was next? A nightmare about the murder of my family? There was only so much I could take.

I lay back down, but my mind and body were too agitated to quiet down. At least there wasn’t any crazy pain today. Reluctantly, I scooted out of my bed and tiptoed to the kitchen. I closed the door to make sure I wouldn’t wake anyone, and grabbed a tub of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream from the fridge. I had no idea how Ceris still found ice cream and soda and several other luxury items in our decaying world—and right now I didn’t care.

I picked a spoon from the silverware drawer and sat on a stool on the kitchen island. I probably should serve a scoop or two in a bowl, but I was too agitated to care. I dug in the ice cream tub, knowing I should control myself before I ended up eating everything.

Of course, my mind wandered to the odd dream and the nightmare. I didn’t pay much attention to the dream, but I hung onto the nightmare. God, poor Morgan. He had been one of our most resourceful assets and a good friend before the Crimson Dagger did a number on him—and I had killed him.

A lump rose in my throat. When would this guilt leave me? Never. I knew that. And I kind of didn’t want it to leave me. If I felt guiltless, it meant I didn’t care about him, and I did care. I would always care.

In need of something to wash down the lump clogging my throat, I stood and snatched a soda from the fridge. When I closed the fridge door, I jumped back.

“Oh my God, you want to give me a heart attack?”

As he leaned against the counter beside the fridge, Micah’s serious eyes set on mine. “Can’t sleep?”

I shrugged and returned to my stool and ice cream. I popped the can open and drank a long swallow. The lump was still there.

With a beer in hand, Micah sat on the stool across the island. “What was it this time? Pain or nightmare?” I didn’t answer. I didn’t even look at him. I just stuffed more ice cream into my mouth. He sighed. “Look, I get it, okay. I was a jerk today during practice, but I swear to you that wasn’t my intention. I would never hurt you, not int—”

“Don’t,” I snarled, looking into his eyes. “Don’t say anything. I don’t want to hear any excuses.”

His jaw set. “Fine. But you know we’ll be around each other all day, every day, right? You can’t ignore me forever.”

“I can try.”

“What else do you want me to do, Nadine? Want me to kneel in front of you and beg for forgiveness?”

Even if I said that was exactly what I wanted, would he know what he was asking forgiveness for? I doubted it.

This was going nowhere. Like he said, we would be around each other every day. If I kept up this effort of ignoring him, I would become grumpy and my usefulness would dwindle further. Time to drop the hormonal teenager act and behave like a responsible adult—the war and its effort came before any boy-girl drama.

I dropped my spoon and shoved the ice cream tub aside. “There’s nothing to forgive,” I said, though deep inside I wanted him to tell me he was sorry for pulling me to him then pushing me away. For kissing me then leaving without explanation. For acting like a lust-crazed lunatic this afternoon, provoking me, and then shutting me down again. “We don’t need to be best friends to fight a war together.” I took a sip of my soda. “It’s all fine.” One eyebrow raised, he tilted his head to the side, as if trying to figure out my logic. I didn’t give him a chance. “What are you doing out of bed?”

He lifted one of his shoulders. “I heard noises and came to check it out.”

The shield around the building didn’t let anyone inside, and if someone got in, the gods would be able to sense it way before they got inside the apartment. He knew that. “Well, it could only be me, or Keisha or Alice, or one of the gods. No need to come check it out.”

“I wanted to.” The gleam in his eyes darkened, too intense. I averted my gaze. “Before I came back, I was in the underworld,” he said. That caught my attention and I glanced back at him. “I checked on your family. They are doing well.” I held my breath, not expecting this. I let out the air in my lungs slowly, relieved my family was okay. “I also checked on Morgan. Actually, I spoke to him.”

My heart stuttered. “W-what?”

“When he died, the charm from the dagger released him. He’s the same Morgan as before.”

That was … that was good to know. However, it made me feel worse. I had killed him. I had killed our good friend, one of our best allies.

Tears brimmed in my eyes. “And?”

“He’s fine.” Micah reached across the island and took one of my hands in his much larger one. “He knows you did what you had to do. He understands. He knows he had to be stopped. He said to thank you for … ending him.”

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Morgan thanked me for killing him? Who in the hell did that?

“But … I killed him. How can he thank me for that?”

“I told you, he understands. He said he would have done the same thing if the roles were reversed.”

I gulped. So, Morgan would have killed me if I had been the one affected by the Crimson Dagger. I understood. If I was that out of control and there was no cure, I would have wanted someone to stop me. Still, didn’t make it any easier to accept the fact that I had killed him.

I stared at Micah’s hand on mine. Why was he so nice and caring sometimes? I wished he would decide what he wanted. The cocky, self-centered Micah who flirted with all the girls and kept me at five arms’ lengths, or the one that looked at me in a way that took my breath away.

I sighed. It didn’t matter. It would never matter. Not with the ticking clock over my head.

I pulled my hand free from Micah’s. “Thank you,” I whispered. “For telling me this.”

“You’re welcome.”

* * *

“I found Ronen!” I announced from the living room. Everyone else was in the kitchen, cleaning up after lunch. I had eaten with them, but then something itched in my mind and I had to look at the map instead of lingering in the kitchen and talking while washing the dishes and putting everything away.

Ceris and Victor were the first to run out of the kitchen and sit beside me on the couch. Micah was the last one, and he lingered by the door, his arms crossed, watching us.

“Where?” Ceris asked, leaning over the unrolled map on the coffee table.

“Here.” I pointed to a small town outside Moscow where the symbol of the goddess of entertainment had shown up, bright and strong.

Ceris frowned. “Why would she be there?”

“It doesn’t matter why,” Victor said. “All that matters is we should go get her.”

“Now?” Keisha asked. She stood in the middle of the living room, her pose ready to strike, even though she didn’t have any weapons with her. Well, she didn’t need any to inflict serious damage.

Victor stood from the couch. “Yes, now. Let’s gear up and meet back here in fifteen minutes.”

Everyone scrambled out of the living room and went to their rooms to get ready. Alone in my bedroom, I shrugged out of my workout clothes, which had become like my daily uniform, and started putting on my gear—beige suede pants with patches of intricate leather on the sides, a fitted white thermal tee, a leather vest with the same intricate pattern, a belt to hold our weapons, and beige combat boots.

I was pulling the tee over my head when a soft knock resounded on my door. Before I could answer, it opened and Micah peered inside.

“Oh,” he said as his eyes fixed on my exposed midriff.

I quickly yanked the tee down. “What is it?” I snapped, crossing my arms over my chest as if I could erase what he had seen.

Clearing his throat, Micah stepped in my room. “I was coming to see if you needed any help.”

“With what?”

He shrugged and gazed at me. Heavy tension hung around us as we stared to each other, both with our defenses on high alert.

After what seemed an eternity, Micah grabbed the beige leather vest from my bed and approached me. I made to take it from him, but he kept it out of my reach.

“Just let me do this,” he said, his voice devoid of any sarcasm or teasing. It was tiring really, never knowing which Micah I would get. In the end, the almost begging shine in his black eyes won me over and I nodded.

Like I was a five-year-old child, Micah helped me put my arms through the sleeves of the vest, tugged it tightly around me, and pulled the zipper up. When he was done, he didn’t retreat his hand from the zipper, but he lifted his gaze to meet mine again. He was so close that I was able to hear the sharp, muted breath he took.

Then he grabbed the belt from my bed and placed it around me. “Now you’re all set.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “What are you doing?”

He stepped back but straightened his back and stuffed his chest, as if protecting himself from what was to come. “Helping you.”

“You know that’s not what I meant. I’m not a child. I can dress myself.” I raised my chin high in defiance. “What are you doing?”

He lifted one shoulder. “I don’t …” He pressed his lips in a tight line. “I—”

“Let’s go, people,” Victor called from the living room.

“We should go,” Micah said, hurrying out of my bedroom as if it were on fire.

Sighing, I knelt down and put on my boots, before taking the sword and the dagger from my bed and sheathing them on my belt.

I didn’t even want to think about what had just happened and what it meant and why Micah could possibly be acting this strange, because if I did, I wouldn’t focus on the task and would be screwed.

Like an army battalion, we marched from the building to the other side of the wards where the gods offered their hands to Keisha, Alice, and me so we could teleport with them. I started reaching for Ceris’s hand, which was closest to me, when Micah’s heavy hand closed around my shoulder.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered.

Before I could protest, the earth was yanked out from under my feet and the world revolved around me. After three quick stops, we were all standing in a dark alley.

As soon as I confirmed we were in the right place, I jerked away from Micah’s touch and wrinkled my nose. The place reeked of rotting food, waste, and other putrid odors.

Ceris peeked around the corner of the alley. “I can sense her,” she said, looking side to side. “It’s clear.”

In groups of twos or threes, we exited the alley and walked along the unpaved streets of the small town. The buildings weren’t tall and they looked uncared for. Broken windows, peeling paint, and dying gardens. There were a few houses here and there, and they all looked abandoned. To be honest, the entire place looked deserted.

As the last group, Micah, Keisha, and I were on high alert, looking over our shoulders and even at the buildings and houses, cautious of prying eyes and surprise attacks.

“Can you feel her?” I asked Micah.

He shifted his eyes from a dead garden to me. “Yes. She’s close.”

I nodded, looking down at my feet.

Ceris stopped in front of what looked like an abandoned pub. With a brief glance at us, she pushed the heavy doors open and walked in. Victor went in with her while we waited outside.

Micah nudged me with his elbow. “Come on.” He pointed his chin to the corner of the building and disappeared into another alley.

Curious, I took two steps forward and looked at the alley. It was narrow and had a single door at the end. Micah turned the knob on it and entered the building. Cursing my damned curiosity, I followed him.

We walked down a short corridor lined with doors—a closet, an employee area, a kitchen, and restrooms, and found the door leading to the heart of the pub. Slowly, Micah reached for my hand and together we crossed the door.

The pub transformed into a ballroom. It was wide with a tall ceiling, and I was sure it didn’t fit inside the building we had just entered.

“What the …?” I muttered.

But that wasn’t all. The ballroom was full of beautiful people in elegant gowns and tuxedos, everyone laughing and dancing and drinking champagne. A band—with singers, dancers, and guitar and piano players—played from a stage along the back wall.

In the middle of the ballroom, a woman danced with her arms up high and her hips moving all around. She threw her head back and let out a loud laugh, one that seemed to be contagious, as everyone else in the ballroom laughed even more. She lowered one of her arms and a flute of champagne appeared in her hand.

Ronen.

The goddess of entertainment was as beautiful as the other goddesses with her strawberry blond haircut in an asymmetric bob—at her chin on one side and at her shoulders on the other. Her body was as perfect as the other goddesses too. However, Ronen seemed to have more curves—bigger breasts and wider hips.

The group around her seemed enthralled by her. In fact, everyone in here did, as if this was her party and everyone had to please her.

She saw Victor and Ceris among the guests and smiled at them.

“Brother! Sister! It’s so good to see you!” Her voice slurred like she was completely drunk.

“I don’t know why but I didn’t think gods could get drunk,” I whispered.

“Only if we drink an entire liquor store,” Micah returned.

“Oh.”

Ceris leaned down closer to Ronen and said something we couldn’t hear over the loud music, small chattering, and clank of glasses. But from the wrinkle on Ceris’s usually immaculate forehead, I guessed her words weren’t too nice.

Ronen let out a loud laugh and swatted Ceris’s hand away.

Beside me, Micah stiffened. With his hand still on mine, he pulled me closer.

“What is it?”

“Demons,” he hissed, looking to the pub’s windows and doors.

Then Ronen’s smile faded and it all went away. The fancy ballroom, the elegant guests, the champagne, the band. It all just disappeared, leaving in its wake a pub that looked as broken and neglected as the outside. Broken tables, broken chairs, broken bar, dim lights, and a lot of missing bulbs. And only Ronen and us on the inside.

It was all an illusion. Magic.

“Demons are here,” Ronen whispered, her eyes wide.

Ceris and Victor exchanged a look with Micah. He nodded. And the next thing I knew, the world revolved. I blinked and found myself standing in what looked like the National Park in D.C., although this park was black, dead, with fallen buildings and monuments and debris. Lots and lots of debris.

“What the hell?” I snapped, turning to Micah, but then I saw everyone else standing behind him. Ceris, Victor, Maho, Sol, Keisha, Alice, and even a drunken Ronen. She looked around and started laughing again.

“We decided it was best to teleport out of there once we sensed the demons closing in on us,” Victor said, letting go of Ronen’s arm.

She swayed and laughed some more. “Where did the party go?” She looked around. “Man, this place doesn’t look like fun.”

Well, so far Ronen was living up to the whole patron-of-entertainment thing.

“Ronen, focus!” Ceris exclaimed, her tone sharp, her eyes even sharper.

“Why, sister?” Ronen shouted, followed by another loud laugh. “The world is going up in flames and I want to have fun while I can.”

“That’s the thing,” Victor said. “We want to prevent the world from going up in flames.”

The amusement on Ronen’s face faded. “Prevent it? I’m afraid that’s impossible.”

“Ronen, listen to us,” Micah spoke up. “United, we can fight Imha and Omi. We can win.”

She actually stopped and looked at him. At everyone. “That’s quite a team you’ve got. I’m afraid it’s not enough.”

Ceris nodded. “We have more allies on our side and we’ll get even more. It will be enough.”

“Just … come with us and hear us out,” Victor said, extending his hand to her.

Ronen stared at his hand, studying it as if it could bite her if she gave in to it. “I’m not sure.”

Ceris put her hands on her waist. “Do you have anything else to do? Just listen to what we have to say. If you think it’s not worth it, we’ll let you go and you can conjure fake parties until Imha comes and kills you herself.”

Ronen winced. But it seemed Ceris’s hurtful logic got through the goddess’s barriers.

She rested her hand on Victor’s. “Okay.”

They all disappeared, and then Micah turned to me, his hand awaiting mine. “Let’s go, darling.”

With a sigh, I grabbed his hand and let him teleport us out of there.