Thunder claps again, and a blinding flash of lightning streaks down from the sky—right next to a man who seems to have appeared out of nowhere.
Dressed in a head-to-toe white cloak with his long blond hair swirling around his face, he looks like the gods in the groundlings’ myths and legends.
I know who he is even before the Stormers drop to one knee.
Bowing to their leader.
CHAPTER 19
VANE
I
wake up in my bed, not sure how I got there. My head is a blur and my memories are even blurrier. But I’m very aware that there’s an arm wrapped around me.
I pull myself up and all I see is blond wavy hair.
“What the crap?” I shout, jumping to my feet.
I’m relieved when I see that I’m still wearing yesterday’s clothes, but: How the hell did Solana end up in my bed?
And what happened while she was here???
“It’s okay,” she says, sitting up and brushing her hair out of her eyes, like it’s totally normal that we just spent the night together. At least she’s wearing clothes too—though I don’t know if her itty-bitty dress really counts. I’m sure my mom would— “Oh, God—you have to get out of here. My mom’s going to freak.”
I’ll be grounded for the rest of eternity and she’ll make me sit through every after-school special on teenage pregnancy and STDs and . . .
“Actually, your mom knows I’m here.”
“What?”
“She insisted I stay on top of the covers, and we had to keep the door open—”
“Okay, what?”
I spin around, and sure enough, my door is open. And those definitely sound like my mom’s kind of rules, but . . . she wouldn’t even leave Audra and me alone for two seconds.
“She fought us at first,” Solana admits. “But when I explained that I could help you sleep, she agreed.”
Still. I can’t even . . .
“Wait, I slept?”
“What else did you think you’ve been doing all night?”
My turn to blush. “I don’t know. I was kind of a mess.”
“Yeah, I noticed.” She stands up, looking around like she’s trying to decide whether or not to leave.
Part of me wants her to go. But I remember my promise to Gus.
Plus, she did help me sleep—for a really long time. According to my clock it’s 12:24, which is later than my mom has ever let me sleep in. I’m still tired, but the worst of the exhaustion has faded.
I run my hands through my hair and sit on the edge of the bed. “Sorry. This is all just really weird.”
“I know,” Solana mumbles, smoothing the thin yellow fabric of her dress, making it hug her curves even more. “It is for me, too.”
She says the last part so softly it’s almost like she doesn’t want me to hear her. But I do. And I feel even more like crap.
“Look, about yesterday . . .”
I don’t even know where to start. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that she’s here. With creases from my pillow pressed into her cheek. Standing next to a pile of folded boxers I never bothered putting away.
So I go with the only thing I can think of. “I’m sorry for what I said.”
She bites her lips and looks away. “It’s fine.”
Wow, she’s an even worse liar than me.
But I don’t know what else to say to make it better.
“So, um, how did you help me sleep?” I ask, deciding it’s easier to change the subject. “I thought the Gales had already tried everything they could think of.”
“They didn’t know about enticing. It’s a trick I came up with a few years ago, and I’ve only tried it on one other person.” She walks to my window, which is closed tight for the first time since Audra left. “My former guardian used to have horrible flashbacks at night, and I knew Southerlies could draw memories, so I tried sending one into her mind to see if I could change her dreams. It took me a little while to find the right command, and it only works if I’m there to keep control. But she said it helped.”
“It does.”
Now that my head is clearing I can remember reliving a memory of Audra and me in the snow. I’ve never had any flashes of that moment before, but now that it’s back, I’m going to hold on to it as tight as I can.
She stayed with me that cold, scary day, holding my hand. She cared.
And if she wouldn’t leave me when we were just stupid kids who didn’t even like each other, how could she leave me now?
But she did leave, my brain reminds me, and I want to rip it out and stomp it into a pulp. She’s been gone twenty-five days.
Yeah, but she promised she’d be back, and I have to believe that. I’m not giving up hope just because she sent two vague words across the sky.
Not yet, at least.