“You’re what?” Sydney exclaimed, looking as if she were about to keel over. “You’re going to marry Adam? The guy you’ve been avoiding for the past five years?”

“Well, I wouldn’t call it avoiding,” I protested. “I’m starting to run out of options. And he’s worlds better than the last candidate I had to deal with.”

“That doesn’t sound like much of a recommendation.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder and frowned. “Okay, I’ll admit that I’ve always thought he was kind of cute, so I could never really figure out what exactly you had against him, except that you told me he wasn’t your consort and he couldn’t get it through his head that he wasn’t….” A look of puzzlement slipped over her features. “But he isn’t, right? So how does that work? I thought you said — ”

“I did say.” Just when I thought I’d gotten things more or less figured out, Sydney’s questions were only serving to make me confused all over again. “That is, it doesn’t happen very often, but a prima can marry someone who isn’t her consort. It’s better this way.” No way was I going into the whole Wilcox thing with her. Obviously she’d figured out that there was something about Flagstaff the McAllisters avoided, since I’d always turned down her offers to drive up there in the summer to avoid the heat. But I’d never elaborated, and Sydney was generally pretty good about not prying.

She wrinkled her nose and lifted her glass of chardonnay, but didn’t take a drink. The day after my blowout with Rachel, Sydney had called, saying plaintively that we hadn’t talked at all, and she wasn’t working today but Anthony was, and could she come up?

I didn’t have the heart to turn her down. Besides, after all the tumult of the past few days, there’d been something very appealing about the thought of sitting down with a friend and just talking things over. Anyway, she would’ve killed me if she’d discovered my plans before I had a chance to tell her myself.

“So…you’re going to wait until the last minute, and if no Prince Charming shows up, then you’ll just marry Adam? With no planning? No flowers, cake?” An expression of comic alarm twisted her features. “No dress?”

Oh, boy. “Well, that will come later. I mean, we don’t have to get married right away. We just have to, you know….” I couldn’t quite complete the sentence.

“…have sex,” she finished for me.

I winced.

“Jesus, Angela, don’t be such a prude.” At last she took a swallow of her chardonnay. “It’s just sex.”

Easy for you to say, I thought. She’d lost her virginity at sixteen. Sleeping with guys was old hat for her. For me it was frightening, unexplored territory. Especially since I’d been told that being with your consort was supposed to be this amazing, life-changing, ecstatic experience. Going to bed with Adam? Probably not.

I took a deep breath. “We haven’t really talked about it, but sure, I know we’ll have some kind of ceremony. We’ll figure it out. Don’t worry — there’ll be a dress. And you can help me shop for it.”

“Awesome.” Relieved that she wouldn’t be completely deprived of the fun of dress shopping, she went full force into a discussion of the various bridal shops in Prescott, and whether they’d be worthy of the occasion, or whether we should go to Scottsdale and find something really special, and how she hoped I wasn’t just going to do something in Spook Hall, and maybe we could have a reception at the Asylum restaurant up at the Grand Hotel at the top of Cleopatra Hill, and….

Listening to all that was enough to tire me out all over again, but I let her rattle on. A wedding didn’t appear to be in her future anytime soon, although she and Anthony seemed to be holding on for the moment. Maybe she’d finally make it past the two-month barrier. And although I hadn’t even stopped to think about dresses or flowers or any of that, Sydney discussing it made the situation seem somehow normal. All I’d been thinking about was how atypical my position was, and so different from what I had imagined my life would be. To someone on the outside looking in, it must not look that strange. Just two young people who’d known each other all their lives suddenly realizing they were supposed to be together.

Only I knew that we weren’t meant to be together. This was a solution to a problem, nothing more. Of course I wasn’t indifferent to Adam — I cared about him, just not in that way.

Maybe someday I’d figure out how to change that.

Sydney and I hung out for a while, but she didn’t stay for dinner — she was meeting Anthony down in Cottonwood after he got off work. “You and Adam could come down,” she suggested, as we stopped in the foyer. From the family room came the faint sound of the TV as the afternoon’s bodyguards watched a football game, but I’d gotten so used to the background noise that I hardly paid it any attention anymore. “The four of us could go out to eat together.”

I shook my head. “Maybe some other time. I’m not really feeling the whole ‘going out on the town’ thing.”

She made an exasperated noise. “Having dinner at Nic’s isn’t exactly going out on the town. Besides, maybe you’d feel more…normal…about things if you two did some regular stuff together.”

She did have a point there, but I still wasn’t that interested. For one thing, I was in a sloppy sweater and ratty jeans, and I’d have to change and put on some makeup. It seemed like too much of an effort. Anyway, there would be plenty of time later for all of us to do the whole double-date thing.

I told her as much, and she shrugged. “Have it your way. Just don’t go into hibernation, okay? I know you have your reasons for doing what you’re doing, but don’t hide out just because you’re going to be with Adam.”

“I won’t.”

“I mean it.”

“I swear,” I said.

For a second or two she didn’t say anything. Then, out of nowhere, she reached over and gave me a quick hug. We were never that demonstrative with one another, so I blinked in surprise, wondering what had brought that on.

“It’s going to be okay,” she told me, then squeezed my hand a final time before letting herself out the front door.

I hoped she was right. But I didn’t have time to think about it for much more, since when I turned around I saw Maisie standing in front of me. I gave a little gasp. This was the first time I’d seen her anyplace except wandering around Hull Avenue. I could never be sure whether this was because she couldn’t leave her usual haunts, so to speak, or whether she simply preferred to stay someplace she was familiar with.

“Hi, Maisie,” I said cautiously, keeping my voice down…not that the bodyguards probably could have heard anything over the sound of the football game they were watching.

She didn’t reply at once, but moved in her soundless way into the living room. Once there, she looked around, as if absorbing the decor. I had no idea whether she’d ever visited the place while Great-Aunt Ruby was alive…or the prima before her, for that matter.

I followed Maisie and stopped in front of the fireplace, which was dark at the moment; Sydney had said she didn’t want a fire while we hung out, so I’d left it alone. “Um…did you want something?” I asked.

Maisie halted her inspection of the room. “It looks better than I thought it would.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Either she didn’t hear the sarcasm in my voice, or she chose to ignore it. “I’ve heard you’re getting hitched to someone who isn’t your consort.”

“And you’re here to tell me not to?”

“’Course not.” She shook her head, and the curls gathered up at the back of her head danced with the movement. “He seems like a nice young gentleman. Sorta reminds me of my Seth.”

“Seth?” I asked. This was the first time she’d ever mentioned anyone in particular. Considering her previous occupation, I’d sort of assumed she didn’t have anyone.

Her expression grew wistful. “Seth Carlson. He was a miner — came here from somewhere east, Minnesota or Michigan or one of those places. He was saving up his money, wanted to buy a ranch over Prescott way. Wanted to marry me. But then this happened.” She gestured toward herself, and for a few seconds I thought I saw livid black bruises appear on her neck before they disappeared again. “Anyway, your Adam calls Seth to mind, for some reason.”

“So that’s the general consensus of…everyone?” I asked. By “everyone” I meant the dearly departed population of Jerome. To be honest, up until this moment I hadn’t really stopped to think what their input might be. They coexisted with us witches, but aside from me, there wasn’t a lot of interaction. The ghosts were not clan members. McAllisters generally seemed happy enough to move on to the next plane with a minimum of fuss, from what I could tell.

“More or less.” A shadow seemed to pass over her face, and she seemed to go slightly transparent before she gathered herself again. “There’s something…something we can’t see, can’t feel. It’s not one of us. It’s always at the edge of our vision. But something about it doesn’t seem right.”

“Like…” I swallowed. “Like when that apparition showed up in my aunt’s store?”

A small lift of her shoulders under the white pintucked blouse, so prim and proper, so opposite what she’d been when she lived here in Jerome. “Sort of. Not exactly the same…but still cold. It feels like it’s watching.” She shivered, as if recalling a chill she shouldn’t be able to feel at all.

I was cold as well. Time for that fire. I made a small flick of my fingers, and the logs crackled to life, bringing some much-needed warmth to the room. Somehow that wasn’t enough to dispel the ice that seemed to be running through my veins.

“What should I do?” I asked. The words came out in barely a whisper.

She took a step toward me and raised her hand, as if she wanted to pat my shoulder in comfort and then realized that would do no good at all, that her fingers would only move through my body as if it weren’t there. Yes, she looked solid, but she was no more corporeal than a drift of river mist.

“What you are doing,” she replied, sounding a little too cheery. I didn’t know who she was trying to convince…me, or herself. “You have your own watchers, and that’s good. And you have Adam. That’s good, too. He’ll help to keep you safe.”

She seemed certain of that. I could only hope she was right.

Three days later, and only four days to go until my birthday. I could feel time running down, just as the year ebbed to the darkest night, the solstice. In the past I’d always sort of enjoyed having my birthday on that day, of feeling the power of the day I’d come into this world combining with that pivot point when the world shifted back toward the light. Now, though, I could only think that it was an unfortunate combination. It was on the solstice when some of the darkest magic was cast. If I were still vulnerable on that night….

You won’t be, I told myself. Because Adam and you will be…together…the night before. Well, unless this one works out.

Talk about your Hail Mary passes. Things were still delicate and uncertain between Aunt Rachel and me, but she’d called late on Saturday afternoon to say she had another candidate for me and that he was coming over on Sunday. It hadn’t been phrased as a question, and I hadn’t bothered to argue. None of the other candidates had worked out, and I had no reason to think this one would be any different. But I figured I might as well humor her.

Adam, of course, hadn’t taken it very well. “Like it’s going to make a difference at this point!” he fumed.

I didn’t bother to point out that he had a vested interest in my not seeing any candidates during this final week before my birthday. “She thinks it might,” I said gently. “I don’t think it will, either, but since she and I are still walking on eggshells around each other, I figure it might make things a little better.” Adam and I were sitting in the nook off the kitchen and drinking coffee; it was a cold, blustery morning, and although the skies threatened, no rain had fallen yet.

“I don’t like it.”

“Neither do I, but it’s just one more thing to get through. Okay?” I’d reached out and laid my hand on his where it rested on the tabletop, and after a second or two he’d knotted his fingers around mine and given them a squeeze. So, not perfect, but at least he wasn’t angry at me. I thought it best not to dwell on his attitude toward Rachel at the moment.

He’d gone back to his apartment, since I thought having him around would only make matters worse. There wasn’t much I could do about the bodyguards, but they’d wisely remained in the sitting room, TV tuned to yet another interminable football game. Allegra was one of the bodyguards today, and she’d seemed less than thrilled about that choice of viewing material, but Boyd and Henry had outvoted her.

The doorbell rang. I drew in a deep breath and went to open the door.

Alex Trujillo stared down at me. I blinked.

No, wait, it wasn’t Alex, but someone who looked so much like him that they had to be closely related. After a quick second glance, I realized this man was older, maybe even as old as thirty. “Another Trujillo?”

“You got me.” He extended a hand, and I took it, hoping I didn’t look as surprised as I felt. Very rarely did two candidates come from the same immediate family. “Diego Trujillo.”

“I’m Angela McAllister.”

“Yeah, I kind of got that,” he said with a grin.

“Come in,” I said quickly, to cover my confusion and embarrassment. “This way.” I shut the door behind him and then led him to the living room. This time I already had a fire going in the hearth, since it was hovering in the mid-40s outside. “Coffee?”

He shook his head. “Just some water would be fine.”

I nodded and hurried off to the kitchen, where I poured a couple of glasses of water and added a slice of lemon to each. The lemon slices had been left behind in the refrigerator by Kirby at some point; he liked to add them to his Coke, apparently. As I put together the drinks, I tried to figure out what Diego Trujillo’s presence meant. He was older than any of the other candidates; everyone else had been under twenty-five. But Aunt Rachel knew I’d found Alex attractive, so maybe she thought she’d try again from the same gene pool. I doubted it would make any difference, although I had to applaud her ingenuity in coming up with this possibility.

Diego was still standing up when I came back to the living room, although he’d moved to one wall where a painting of billowing monsoon clouds over a desert mountain hung. I’d admired the artist’s work when I saw some of his smaller pieces hanging in one of the local wine tasting rooms, and it had been kind of amazing to be able to purchase the sort of large painting I’d never thought I could afford.

“This is amazing,” Diego said as I handed him a glass of water.

“I really love it, too.” Then I realized maybe saying “love” hadn’t been the wisest thing in this particular situation, so I drank some of my own water to cover up my awkwardness.

If he noticed, Diego didn’t give any indication. He drank as well, seeming to study me. Although I didn’t have any hope of this encounter turning out any differently from the others, I’d made a little more of an effort today, wearing some new jeans and a dark green cardigan with a lace-trimmed camisole under it, along with my ballet flats instead of boots.

Since he didn’t seem inclined to say anything, I asked, “So how did my aunt manage to rope you into this?”

Another of those eye-catching grins. Like his brother, he had a very good smile. “Oh, she didn’t. I volunteered, and my abuela called your aunt.”

“You…volunteered?”

“You sound surprised.”

“Well…I guess I am. I mean, after Alex didn’t work out….”

“We’re not the same person. Just because he wasn’t your consort doesn’t mean I can’t be. And he had very good things to say about you, so I thought I should give it a try.”

Well, how was I supposed to reply to that? I gave an embarrassed little nod, not meeting his eyes, and he went to the coffee table and set down his glass…properly using a coaster, I noted.

“Does it bother you that I’m a little older?”

“No,” I said, finding my voice. “Not really.” You’re still younger than Damon Wilcox, I thought then, although I knew better than to say such a thing out loud.

“Good.” He came over to me and laced his fingers through mine. His hands were strong, as his brother’s had been. “Let’s try this, then, okay?”

I couldn’t do anything except nod.

His mouth came closer to me, then touched, and….

I didn’t know what I wanted to happen. Part of me felt as if I were betraying Adam, and the other part argued that I needed to be doing this, that I needed to try. Too much pushing and pulling inside my mind.

It turned out that none of it mattered, because again I felt nothing. Oh, his technique was very good — I could tell he’d had a lot of practice — but there were no more sparks or fireworks than when I kissed Adam.

Diego pulled away. His expression seemed neutral enough, although by the way his jaw tensed slightly I could tell he wasn’t thrilled by my lack of reaction. Probably he wasn’t used to having girls just stand there like department store mannequins when he kissed them.

“Oh, well, it was worth a try,” he said.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I knew the chances weren’t good.”

I nodded, feeling an odd sense of relief. At least now I knew what would happen. There wouldn’t be any more attempts. Maybe I wasn’t meant to have a consort in the true sense of the word.

He went and retrieved his glass of water, then drank about half of what remained. “I’ll be on my way.”

No protests came from my lips. What would be the point? He wasn’t the one, either.

I saw him to the door, then went up to my room and retrieved my phone from where it sat charging on the nightstand. After I went to the Contacts screen, I sat there for a long moment, staring down at Adam’s number. Although I knew my Aunt Rachel had said there would be no more candidates after Diego, some part of my mind didn’t quite believe it. There were still three days left. But no, she’d said there was no one else. No one unattached and in the right age group, of the right family. I’d run through them all.

After taking a deep breath, I pushed the phone icon next to Adam’s entry. It rang twice, and he picked up. Without waiting for him to speak, I said, “We’re on for Friday.” Then I hung up before he could reply. I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. I just wanted to get the whole thing over with.

We’d tried to act normal, but of course there wasn’t anything normal about the situation. Everyone in the clan knew what was going on, too, which didn’t make things any easier. After some ruminating on the upcoming evening, I’d decided we should go out — dinner at Grapes, and wine, then off to the Spirit Room to hear that night’s band play, and more wine. I figured if I were seriously tipsy, if not outright drunk, then the whole thing might be easier to handle.

Adam hadn’t bothered to argue with me about all that. I guessed he was probably just relieved that no more obstacles had presented themselves. If I wanted to delay things as long as possible on the night itself, he could handle that. Technically, I wouldn’t be twenty-two until almost midnight the following day — my time of birth was eleven-thirty. So partying late tonight wouldn’t create any problems.

Once again Sydney had suggested that she and Anthony should come to meet us and hang out for the evening, but I thought that would just be too weird. “I appreciate it, but…no,” I told her.

“Suit yourself,” she replied. “And I won’t even ask for the gory details tomorrow.” She’d let out a mock-sigh and added, “My little girl is finally going to be a woman!”

“You are so weird,” I replied, even though I couldn’t help smiling a little. Then I’d hung up.

Dinner was all right. We talked about commonplace things, about how he was helping with the conversion of a triplex into a single-family home, and how I couldn’t decide whether to go with black appliances or stainless steel ones for the upcoming kitchen remodel. Just your ordinary date-night conversation, I supposed.

Lara’s band was playing at the Spirit Room, which meant the place was packed. We ended up having to hover at one end of the bar, but I didn’t mind too much. The raucous atmosphere helped to deflect my thoughts from what was coming at the end of the night.

Jesus, you’re acting as if you’re going to your execution, I thought. It’s just Adam. He knows what he’s doing.

At least, I assumed he did. I’d never heard of him seeing anyone in Jerome, but he went into Cottonwood a good deal, just like the rest of us did, and I know a few of those girls back in high school who’d thought he was cute would’ve been more than happy to have him pop their cherries, so to speak. He’d wanted to be with me, but I kind of doubted that meant he’d been depriving himself all these years just in case I changed my mind.

He bought me a glass of wine, and then another. By that point the room was more than a little swimmy, faces and sound and the dim lights over the bar seeming to swirl around and around one another. Most of the people I didn’t recognize; a lot of bikers came to the Spirit Room, although it was always a more or less friendly crowd, locals and tourists and people from several motorcycle clubs mingling without much of a problem.

Adam and I danced. I wanted the contact with him. I wanted the music to draw us closer, to have our bodies moving together so that when the moment came, I’d already feel in sync with him, would think it a natural progression. That was what I hoped in my semi-drunken state, anyway.

Even there we weren’t without our escort, although they’d taken up a table in a corner, staying out of our way. I had to thank the Goddess that Tobias wasn’t among them. It would’ve been too awkward to have him watch me act like a tipsy fool as I psyched myself up into sleeping with Adam so I wouldn’t have to worry about Damon Wilcox ever getting his hands on me.

Eventually midnight came and went, and Adam squeezed my hand, bending his head close to my ear. “I think it’s time to go home now.”

I wanted to protest, but I knew that was silly. It was already late; waiting another hour wasn’t going to make any difference. So I nodded and let him lead me out of the bar, and up the street to the house. The trio followed a few paces behind, trying to be discreet but failing miserably. There just weren’t enough people out at that hour for them not to stick out like a sore thumb.

When we got to the house, Adam stopped on the doorstep and looked down at Henry and Boyd and Allegra where they waited awkwardly on the walkway. “Do you think we could have a little privacy, just this night?”

They exchanged glances.

“What do you think is going to happen?” Adam demanded. “Pretty soon she’s going to be safe forever. Just let us have this time together, okay?”

Another long pause. “All right,” Boyd said at length. “We’ll go to my place, since it’s only two doors down. We can be here fast enough.”

“Good,” Adam said shortly. “We’ll see you in the morning.”

He pulled out the key I had given him earlier — he didn’t have my same talent with locks — and opened the door. The house felt oppressively quiet as we entered. Although I’d hated having the bodyguards underfoot all the time, it still felt strange for no one to be there except Adam and me. I realized that I’d never been this alone in the house.

But there were his fingers around mine, warm, reassuring. “Let’s go upstairs.”

I let him lead me up to the bedroom. Everything was dark here as well, but he waved his hand at the fireplace, and immediately the logs stacked within began to blaze, warming the space, sending dancing light against the clay-hued walls.

My head still spun, and my mouth was suddenly dry. No more delays. He was here and I was here, and we both knew what was going to happen next.

Which one of us moved first, I couldn’t tell. I only knew we were suddenly standing very close, and his mouth came down to mine, and I opened my lips, tasting the wine on his tongue as well, feeling the warmth of his body against mine.

Only then it wasn’t warm, but cold, as an icy blast seemed to move through the room, and the fire in the hearth snuffed itself. Shadows formed all around us, shadows that resolved them into the shapes of people in hooded cloaks. I pulled away from Adam, opened my mouth — not to kiss, but to call out a spell of protection, to reach with my mind to the three who were supposed to be watching over us.

But my breath seemed to choke in my throat, even as my body froze, and the words wouldn’t come. A blast of light, gray-tinged, and Adam flew backward, fell lifeless to the floor. Because I was choking, I couldn’t scream, couldn’t do anything but stand there, impotent, as I saw Damon Wilcox’s glinting black eyes come closer and closer.

“I told you I wanted you,” he said.

Darkness swirled around him, seemed to become one with him, and I fell into it, was sucked down into a lightless tunnel with no end.

All went black.