“Are you ready?” Holden stood by my side with his arms folded over his chest, sunglasses already in place over his red-ringed eyes.

At least it was a sunny day—he generally looked ridiculous when he wore them in the rain. It was either that or wear contact lenses to make his eyes look more human and less… unsettling.

“Why are you in such a hurry?” I asked, glancing at him in the mirror as I admired the dress I’d just picked off the rack. Tight but modest. It showed off my curves, but kept me covered. Just how I liked it.

“I’m not. I’ve been standing here waiting for over forty-five minutes. It’s a good thing I’m not in a hurry.”

I clenched my teeth against the snide comment threatening to come out. It wasn’t easy, trying to be nice and mature and even-tempered, but I had made a promise to myself and intended to keep it.

My entire life had been spent thinking only about myself, and I had sworn to any higher power listening while I was a tied up hostage in that old hotel that I would be a better person.

Of course, I didn’t expect to make it out alive.

A promise was easy to make when a girl thought she was standing at death’s door.

I forced a smile. “It’ll just be another few minutes. Relax. I know you’re in a big hurry to get your caffeine fix on the way home.” As if he would drink coffee.

He snorted. “Can’t you magically make yourself feel more awake? Do you need to put drugs in your body?”

“Coffee is not a drug.”

“It is.”

“You’ve been talking to my mother again.”

“She thinks you ingest too much caffeine.”

I whirled on him. “Okay. Why don’t you just tell me everything my mother thinks I do wrong or has given you the heads up to keep an eye on? Just get it out all now. Come on. I’m waiting.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“You’re the one letting my mother—who is not your charge, in case you forget—tell you what you should be watching out for. That sounds much more ridiculous to me.”

“She’s worried... after losing your sister.” He lifted the glasses and propped them on top of his thick, dark hair.

It was a staring contest, and I blinked first.

“I know she is.” I turned back to the mirror and noticed the frown lines between my eyes.

My hand shook when I raised it to tuck a lock of hair behind my ear.

“Can you blame her?”

“What do you think? No. I don’t blame her.” I was careful not to look at him.

“You feel a lot of conflict about your sister’s death, don’t you?”

“Wow. You can’t stop picking at half-healed scabs, can you?”

“A disturbing visual.”

“Says the guy who drinks blood,” I hissed, looking around first to be sure nobody was listening. “You know what? Screw it. I don’t even want to go to the coffee shop now. This is stupid.”

“I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“No. You shouldn’t have. Why would I not feel conflict over my sister’s death?” The words almost choked me. Damn. I used to be such a good liar, too. “I’m the reason she walked into that situation. I’m the reason she’s gone.” Because I couldn’t refer to her as being dead without guilt stabbing me in the chest.

“You weren’t responsible for what Kristoff did to you.”

“Yes. I know that. But it’s like the nightmares.” I tapped the side of my head. “It’s one thing to know it but another thing to actually know it.” I picked up my purse and went to the door—better to go for a cup of coffee I’d said I didn’t want anymore, than to stick around and rehash the same lies.

Does he know?

I stole a glance out of the corner of my eye as we left the store side-by-side once I made my purchase.

In his jeans and leather jacket with sunglasses to complete the look, he was a heartbreaker. I’d get lots of dirty looks from all the average, everyday humans who wished they could be with him instead.

If they only had a clue who they were lusting over—and what he lusted over, which was definitely not flesh.

If he knew Mariya wasn’t really dead, he had a fantastic poker face.

Was this some sort of reverse psychology situation, where he was waiting for me to break down? Would he be more and more sympathetic until I crumbled and admitted it was all a story made up by me?

That was obviously not going to happen. I wasn’t going to get Elias killed for leaving the Nightwardens, especially since I was the one who told them to run away together.

I had covered well up to this point and had no intention of screwing things up.

The coffee shop windows were all done up for Halloween.

I rolled my eyes. “The most wonderful time of the year,” I whispered to Holden as we walked in and he ducked to avoid the paper bats hanging from the ceiling.

I couldn’t help laughing at him a little.

“I would think you’d feel right at home,” he muttered through clenched teeth.

“Please. I wish I had the time to go through all the ways they get it wrong.”

He knew I was talking about humans, with their completely bastardized traditions and rituals. Witches with pointy hats and broomsticks. How did they think women sat on those damn things? I wished somebody would try to get me on a broomstick. They’d end up with the business end sticking out of their ass.

“Isn’t it better that they don’t know what to look for?” he murmured, elbowing his way through far too many people.

But it was a Sunday, late morning, and the craving for pumpkin spice latte was too much for humans to resist.

If I never saw another girl take a photo of a cup of coffee to upload to social media, I would die happy.

“You mean it’s better that they don’t know we walk among them?” I asked as I got in what I guessed was the line.

I was starting to regret my decision, but humans weren’t the only ones with a craving for pumpkin everything. One of the few areas where I could relate to them.

“Exactly. It’s good cover.”

“It’s insulting,” I muttered, grinding my teeth. Orange and black crepe paper, how tacky. Who chose the colors, anyway? “It’s one of our most important festivals, and they treat it like an excuse to bother the neighbors and develop cavities.”

“I’m sure Christians feel the same way about Christmas,” he offered.

“You’re just trying to pick a fight, aren’t you?” I sneered up at him. “That was one of our feast days, and they took it for themselves. Even I know Jesus Christ wasn’t born in December.”

“I didn’t know it was a sore spot for you.”

“Don’t get me started.”

“I would never get you started on purpose, believe me.”

“Ha, ha.” I looked around, already bored with the conversation.

I’d have to do a little silent convincing to get anybody to abandon their table to me. It wasn’t strictly within the rules to use my powers for such trivial things, but a seat was a seat. And nobody would know.

“You’re thinking about doing something you’re not supposed to do,” he muttered under his breath.

“Stop spying on me,” I hissed. “And it’s not like I would get in trouble.”

I was about to read him the riot act and maybe tell him to go to hell when a familiar pair of eyes stopped me from all the way across the room.

“What?” Holden asked when he noticed my reaction.

I looked down and saw that I was gripping his hand hard enough to leave crescent-shaped marks in his skin from my newly manicured nails.

“I know that man.”

I looked up again, craning my neck to see past a couple standing with their arms around each other’s waists. They separated.

He was gone.

“What man?” Holden asked. “There are roughly twenty of them here.”

“He’s not there anymore. He was standing by the window.” I stood on tiptoe, then bounced up and down in the hope of seeing his head over the others. “Damn it, he couldn’t have left that fast!”

“Where do you know him from?”

My dreams. I’ve dreamed of him every night for a week. That wouldn’t sound insane at all. “I—I don’t know, really. He looked familiar.”

“You nearly tore my hand off.”

“I didn’t.”

Damn it, where could he be? I wasn’t imagining it. Was I?

I stepped up to the counter in a daze and rattled off an order without paying attention to what I was saying.

All I could think about was those eyes. Sharp, clear, gorgeous. Staring into my soul.

Yes, it had been a week.

I thought about it as we left the shop—I didn’t feel like sitting in a crowd, not anymore. Not with all that silly, cartoonish Halloween décor hitting me in the face. Not with so much uncertainty swirling in my brain.

I had slept well for a week, because my dream had changed.

He saved me every night. Whoever he was.

I wished I had gotten a better look at his face. All I ever saw were his eyes. But that was enough for me to know that the man I had seen in the shop was the man from my dreams. Somehow.

“You only went to one store, and you already want to go home?” Holden didn’t bother disguising his glee.

Big surprise.

“I don’t feel well now. I think I need to lie down and rest.”

“With your coffee?” he snorted.

I had promised myself I would never be nasty to a Nightwarden again, but he was pushing me too far.

“Shut up, already. I’m not in the mood.”