“Um . . . I know it’s used in the heart notes of a lot of perfumes.”
“It means promise.” He stared at me so intensely I had to look away. The term bedroom eyes must’ve been coined especially for Dane. “Brennon was bred for your bloodline. His parents would be thrilled if you and Brennon were intended, a direct tie to Katia and Alonso—to the vessels.”
My throat went dry. “I was just standing in for my mom.”
“I understand. But do you feel anything for him?”
I opened my mouth, trying to force some words out, but they wouldn’t come.
“If you have to think about it—you don’t.” He looked down, trying to stifle a smile.
“Brennon’s a nice guy.”
“Ohhh.” He clutched his heart dramatically. “That’s the kiss of death, isn’t it? Being the nice guy.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll never fall into that trap.”
“True.”
I looked up at him, trying to decipher his meaning, but I got a little lost in his gaze.
He cleared his throat. “Today, at the field—”
“Yeah, I’m so sorry about your cousin—”
“No. Not that. What did you see when you touched my arm?”
My first instinct was to play dumb, but I was tired of pretending. He’d trusted me with his biggest secret—the least I could do was let him in on how crazy I was.
“I saw Katia and Coronado in the corn. Coronado killed a Larkin girl right in front of Katia. Threatened to kill them all.”
I held my breath, waiting for him to run off screaming, but he just looked at me curiously.
He added a stray twig to the fire. “Did this start when you came to Quivira?”
“No. I’ve seen things my entire life . . . the dead girl . . . always hanging by her ankles and always dripping blood from the cut on the palm of her hand. But it’s getting worse.”
He nodded, a hint of sadness in his eyes. “I’ve seen conduits do incredible things when they’re in their ancestors’ memories—terrible things, too. And you’re the first conduit born into the Larkin bloodline. Who knows what you’re capable of. It’s amazing you’re still—”
“Sane?” I finished his sentence. “Believe me, that’s debatable.” I pulled my hair over one shoulder. It felt so good to talk to someone. Not just anyone . . . Dane.
“How have you managed it?”
I ran my hand over my collarbone, over the last tattoo. “My mother gave me protection marks to help stave off the symptoms, but I don’t think they’re working anymore.”
“What kind of marks did she give you . . . where?”
I ran my fingers up my arms and down my legs. “You can’t see them, but they cover my entire body.” I swore I could feel the warmth of his gaze on my skin. “The dead girl is Katia’s daughter, Marie. I see her all the time now. She looks just like me. Katia said I was tied to her, but didn’t explain how.”
“So, you’ve spoken to Katia?”
I took in a jittery breath. I couldn’t believe he was still sitting here, talking to me calmly about all this. I got the impression Dane was accustomed to weird.
“I’m not sure if I actually talked to her or not. On the day my mother disappeared, I had a very real . . . vision . . . of Katia coming to see me. She cut the palm of my hand—but it didn’t leave a mark. I thought the cut would give me a scar like my mother’s, but it never came.”
“Your mother’s scar,” Dane whispered, his brows pulling in tight.
“Right here.” I ran my finger across the length of my left palm.
He traced the imaginary line with his thumb—a tingling warmth spread up my arm like wildfire.
He pulled his hand away. “Why do you want to go into the corn?”
Hope welled up inside of me. It seemed to come out of nowhere. “Marie wants me to find her. I think she’s trying to show me something. Maybe a way to save my parents. I need to see the sacred circle . . . and the chasm.”
His spine stiffened. “You know about the chasm?”
“I saw it through the memories.”
He tore his eyes away from me, staring out over the dark water, a haunted look on his face. “You have no idea what you’re asking me to do.”
I swallowed hard, thinking about what happened to Henry—and what could happen to Dane. I couldn’t blame him for not wanting to get involved. “I understand,” I said as I started to get up.
“Wait.” He grabbed my hand. All I could think of was when he touched me at the junkyard and when I touched him today at the field and how much I wanted to feel that same touch all over me.
“Please.” He tugged gently, and my body obeyed, settling next to him once again. “I just need to understand why I’d risk everything . . . for you.”
“That’s easy.” I smirked, happy to lighten the mood. “You’re a reckless gambler.”