"Hey," I said, my voice way too loud, "if you're, uh, hungry or something, I can see what's in the kitchen. Running for your life and dragging a powerless demon all over the world probably works up an appetite, huh?" As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I mentally cringed so hard, I'm surprised I didn't sprain something.

"I'm not hungry," he replied in a low voice.

"Awesome," I said. "Then I'll leave you alone and let you get some sleep."

My cheeks flaming, I headed for the entrance.

And then, from behind me: "I thought about you. Every day."

I froze, my hand still holding the canvas flap.

Cal's voice was slightly hoarse as he continued. "Three weeks is a long time to wonder where someone is. All that time, I thought maybe I'd done the wrong thing, telling you to find the Brannicks."

I turned around then. I wanted to make a joke, or say something sarcastic, anything that would cut the tension enveloping us. Instead, I said, "I thought about you, too."

Call glanced up, and I met his eyes. "Cal, you...you saved my dad's life. You tried to save Archer's." My chest ached, saying that out loud, but I made myself go on. "That's so huge, I don't even know where to start. 'Thank you' doesn't really cut it, you know? And I'm not sure there's a fruit basket big enough to-"

He rose to his feet, and suddenly his arms were around me and my face was pressed against his chest. He smelled good, and familiar, and tears sprang to my eyes as I put my hands on his back and pressed him closer. He stroked my hair. "He might be okay, Sophie," Call murmured.

"The Eye could've gotten him out."

I squeezed my eyes closed. "I know," I whispered. "It's not that. I mean, it is that, but not just that. It's...Everything is so screwed up, Cal." His arms tightened. "I know. With Graymalkin being gone..." He blew out a long breath but didn't say anything else.

I hadn't even thought about that. How much Call had loved the island. I remembered what he'd told me at Thorne, that Graymalkin had always felt like home to him. I was used to feeling vaguely homeless, but Call had lived at Hex Hall since he was thirteen.

I pulled back to look in his eyes. "I'm so sorry," I told him. "For all of it." On his face, I saw everything I was feeling. The confusion, the helplessness, the loneliness. And I guess it was that last emotion that made me rise up on tiptoes and softly brush my lips over his. I hadn't meant for it to be a real kiss; it was more a gesture of thanks and comfort than anything else. But when I went to pull back, Call cupped my cheek, and his mouth slanted over mine, and just like that, it was definitely a real kiss.

I kissed him back, my hands clutching at his T-shirt. For a minute, it felt nice. Well, better than nice, really. I felt safe and comfortable, and his arms were so warm around me.

And then, suddenly, I was pulling away, my face hot. "Oh, God, and now I'm sorry for that," I said, turning my back to him and wiping at my cheeks with trembling hands.

I'd only thought the atmosphere in the tent was tense before. Now I was practically choking on it. From behind me, I heard Call sigh. "No, I'm sorry," he said. "We're both...We're in a weird place."

I turned back around then and gave him a shaky smile. "Both metaphorically and literally," I said, gesturing around the tent.

Call gave a tiny smile back. "You should probably go. Check on your dad. We can talk more tomorrow when things aren't so..." His words trailed off, and finally he just shrugged.

I nodded. "Right. Tomorrow."

I could feel his gaze on my back as I left the tent, and it was like it stayed there, a hot spot between my shoulder blades, as I jogged back to the house.

I kissed Cal. Again. For real.

The words pounded inside my brain in time to my footsteps, and I wasn't sure whether it was guilt or giddiness jumping around in my stomach.

My hands were still trembling when I opened the back door. The house was strangely silent, and I crept toward the living room. Dad was still on the couch, his eyes closed, his breathing shallow. Mom sat on the floor next to him, a steaming mug beside her. She was looking at Dad with such a strange expression: sad, and scared, and...something else. Her finger barely touched his skin as she traced the purple whorls on his hand.

I backed out before she could see me.

As I made my way upstairs, I felt shaky and hollow. Sometimes I think we have a limit to how many emotions we can feel at once, and I had clearly reached mine. Between Dad and Call reappearing, and kissing Cal...

I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes and took a shuddery breath. Yup. Definitely had all I could handle for one night.

When I opened my bedroom and saw a soft, ghostly glow, I groaned. "Not tonight, Elodie," I sniffled. "I'm not in the mood." The words died in my throat. It wasn't Elodie's ghost standing in the middle of my room. It was Archer's.

CHAPTER 11

"Oh, good, it worked," Archer said, his ghostly face relieved. Unlike Elodie, his voice came in loud and clear, and so familiar that my heart broke all over again.

I stood frozen, my back against the door. Even though he was faint, I could see him smirk.

"Um...Mercer? Haven't seen you in nearly a month. I was expecting something like, 'Oh, Cross, love of my heart, fire of my loins, how I've longed-'"

"You're dead," I blurted out, pressing a hand against my stomach. "You're a ghost, and you think-" All the humor disappeared from his face, and he held up both hands. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Not dead. Promise." My heart was still hammering. "Then what the heck are you?"


Archer almost looked sheepish as he reached inside his shirt and pulled out some kind of amulet on a thin silver chain. "It's a speaking stone.

Lets you appear to people kind of like a hologram. You know. 'Help me, Sophie-Wan Kenobi, you're my only hope.'"

"Did you steal it from the cell ar at Hecate, too?" Archer had collected all sorts of magical knickknacks back when we had cell ar duty at Hex Hall.

"No," he said, offended. "I found it at a...store. For magical stuff. Okay, yes, I stole it from the cell ar." I rushed across the room and thrust my fist at his solar plexus. It went right through him, but it was still kind of satisfying. "You jerk!" I cried, striking at his head. "You scared me to death! Call said The Eye probably had you, and I thought they'd found out about you and me working together, and killed you, you arrogant piece of-"

"I'm sorry!" he shouted, waving his translucent hands. "I-I thought the talking would give it away, and I didn't mean to scare you, but I'm not dead! So would you please stop hitting me?"

I paused. "You can feel it?"

"No, but it's still kind of unsettling to see your fist coming at my face."

We were inches away from each other. I let my arms drop to my sides. "You're not dead."

"Not even a little," he replied. And then he smiled, a genuine, happy smile, and my cheeks started to ache.

That's when I realized I was grinning, too.

"So hologram means-" I finally said.

"It means non-corporeal, yeah. Which sucks seeing as how there are a lot of very corporeal things I'd like to do with you right now." My cheeks flushed hot as my gaze dropped to his lips. Then I remembered that ten minutes before, I'd been in another guy's arms. Kissing another guy's lips.

I spun away from him, hoping he hadn't seen, and went to sit on the bed. "So where are you?" I asked, drawing my knees up to my chest.

Even though he was all ghostly, I noticed a brief flicker of guilt on his face.

"Rome," he answered. "Or, if you want to get more specific, hiding in a closet in a vill a in Rome." It wasn't a surprise he was with The Eye. After all, hadn't that been the best case scenario as far as him getting out of Thorne went?

"Why are you making that face?" Archer asked.

I hugged my knees tighter. "What face?"

"Like you want to throw up or cry. Both, maybe."

Oh, the joys of having whatever the opposite of a poker face was. "It's just been an insane night. An insane few weeks, really." I didn't know how much time I had to talk to Archer, so I gave him the most bare-bones version of what had happened since I left Thorne. He stood there listening, and only looked surprised when I told him that my mom was a Brannick.

"So that's why we're here," I told him, "chilling with the Brannicks. And now my dad has shown up, and, uh, Cal, and now you. It's been kind of a busy night."

"How did Call and your dad track you? I've been trying this magical GPS thing ever since I left Thorne, and it only locked on to you today."

"Call had told me to come to the Brannicks when I left Thorne, so they were just hoping I'd be here. It may be the first time I've had any luck since...oh, 2002 or so."

Archer smiled and then began to flicker in and out. "Damn it," he muttered, tapping on the stone around his neck. "Okay, it's looking like I don't have much longer, so I'll make this quick. All The Eye knows is that the Casnoffs have disappeared. There haven't been any more reported demon attacks, but something is definitely stirring. They just don't know what."

"That's what Dad said, too."

"We're looking for the Casnoffs, but so far, no dice. It's like we're all in a holding pattern."

"Here, too," I told him. "So...what now, Cross? Are you going to stay with The Eye?" Archer glanced over his shoulder at something. "I don't know," he said when he turned back, his voice much quieter. "But it's not like I really have anywhere else to go."

"You could come here."

He smiled at that and reached out one ghostly hand. I pressed my fingertips to his, even though I couldn't feel him. "I wish I could," he said. "But they're watching me pretty closely these days. For now, it's probably safer for me to stay there. Toe the line a little bit." I stared at our hands. "Am I ever going to see you again?"

"You better believe it," he said. "Didn't I promise you we could make out in a castle?" Chuckling, I drew my hand back. "You did. And to take me on dates. Real dates with no swords or ghouls or angst."

"Well, there you go," he said. "As soon as we've saved the world from a demon invasion, it's you, me, and Applebee's." I rolled my eyes, but I was grinning now. "Oh, the romance."

His smile slowly faded. "I will see you again," he said, serious this time. "I promise." He moved closer to me so that his translucent legs disappeared into the bed. "Mercer, I-"

And then, just like that, he blinked out and was gone.

"Oh, come on," I groaned to the empty room. Sighing, I flopped back against the pillows and shut my eyes. I'd been lying like that for a few minutes when I suddenly had the sense I wasn't alone anymore.

Sure enough, when I opened my eyes, Elodie was perched on the end of the bed, watching me with an unreadable expression.

Finally, she mouthed, "Do you love him?"

I took a moment before replying, "Yeah. I think I do."

She nodded, like that was the answer she'd expected. "I thought I did, too."



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