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799 pages, Kindle Edition
First published November 7, 2017
Biana laughed. “It’s too bad Keefe isn’t here—you two could have a contest to see who whines the most.”
“I’d win,” Keefe said from the doorway.
“I never thought I’d need a stuffed animal to sleep. But . . . I never knew I needed a lot of things before I met you.”
“The only thing I’m risking is me.”
“Which is way more than I’m willing to lose.”
“But whatever it takes, it’s going to happen. Do you know why?”
When she didn’t answer, he took both of her hands, and she couldn’t ignore the rush of warmth that tingled through her when she met his eyes.
There was no teasing glint to be found. Just pure determination when he told her, “Because Team Foster-Keefe is going to win.”
“And here’s another thing you can count on. You’ll never lose me. No matter how any of this stuff goes down.”
“Hey,” Keefe said. “You know what I remember most about that flight with Silveny? That was the first time I felt you trust me. Like, really trust me.”
It was also the first time that Keefe had peeled back his joking, teasing mask and given her a glimpse of the deeper, serious side he hid away to keep anyone from getting too close to him.
“I like it when you trust me,” he said quietly.
“So do I.”
He scooted ever so slightly closer. “You still do, right? Even after . . .”
“There you are,” Keefe whispered, his breath warm on her cheeks. “You’re good now, right?”
Pressure tightened on her hands and she glanced down to see his fingers twined with hers.
Her gloveless fingers.
Dex’s crush cuffs were gone too.
“I’m not some damsel in distress who needs you to swoop in—”
“I know that, Foster. Believe me, I’m super aware of how powerful you are. And brilliant. And special. And—”
“Keefe doesn’t listen to anyone.”
“He listens to you.”
“Trust me, he doesn’t.”
“Ah. So that’s why he’s not there. Interesting. I suppose excluding him is the best punishment. Especially given your choice of replacement.”
“What are you doing here?” Sophie asked.
Keefe’s smirk widened as his eyes finally found their way to hers. “It’s good to see you too, Foster—though yowza, that’s a lot of emotions to hit a guy with all at once. In case you need help deciding, I’d go with the part of you that wants to run over here for an epic Team Foster-Keefe hugfest, and not the part that wants to rip off my arms and smack me with them.”
“Oh, I still have questions,” Keefe said. “Lots of them. But I’m only going to ask one—for now.”
His eyes shifted back to Sophie, and he struggled to swallow before he asked, “How much groveling am I going to have to do before you trust me again?”
Ro whistled. “You know, when you’re trying to impress a girl, it’s probably better if you don’t almost kill her.”
“Eh, this is Foster. She loves the thrill.”
“Keefe,” Sophie warned.
“It’s going to be fine, Foster. I know you probably think I’m trying to take over again—”
“It’s not that,” she interrupted. “It’s . . . can you really handle this? I see what he does to you.”
“I don’t do anything,” Lord Cassius snapped.
“The fact that you can’t even see it is the worst part,” Sophie told him.
Keefe leaned closer to her. “I can handle him. What I can’t handle is any more of the Sophie Shell who’s been wandering around for the last few weeks, scaring the snot out of all of us. I need my Foster back—the real one, who bosses me around and is way too much fun to tease.”
“Awwwwww, is anyone else chanting Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! in their heads right now?” Ro asked.
“Just you,” Sandor said through a sigh.
The rest of his sentence was choked off by Sophie’s tackle-hug.
He laughed as he flailed to keep both of them from toppling over. “Don’t worry,” he grunted. “Breathing is overrated.”
[...]
Keefe pulled her a little closer. “Anytime, Foster.”
It was probably her cue to let go, but . . . she couldn’t seem to do it.
“This”—he traced a finger over the crease between her eyebrows—“doesn’t make you very convincing.”
Their eyes locked and it was suddenly much harder than it should have been to come up with a response.
“Is it harder to be around me?” she asked. “Since my emotions are stronger?”
His lips tugged into a smile. “Don’t worry, you’re worth it.”
“Then you should stay away from me,” she told him.
“Now you’re being ridiculous.”
He strode over to her, and she tried to back away but crashed into the wall.
“I’m serious, Keefe.”
“Oh, I know. But you’re forgetting something, Foster.”
He was close enough to reach out and gently tuck her hair behind her ear as he leaned in to whisper, “I like a challenge.”
His breath tickled her skin, and her stomach filled with fluttery things.
“Speechless again?” he asked, grinning as he leaned in to whisper, “You know, there’s—”
“And since I still have a few more days without Ro driving me crazy, I thought I’d bring you a cheer-up present, since apparently that’s a thing.”
He held out his arms.
“Um . . .” Sophie didn’t see a gift.
Keefe smirked. “Foster, Foster, Foster—always so adorably oblivious. I’m the gift. I’m all yours today—though I might be willing to extend my servitude if you call me the Gift Master.”
Sophie rolled her eyes as she smiled. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”
“And you love it.” His grin shifted into something softer, something that made her stomach tighten. “So what do you need, Foster? A shoulder to cry on? A good old-fashioned cuddle? Or should we go back to brainstorming my favor?”
“But believe me, if I thought there was even the slightest chance we could catch her, Foster and I would be having a slumber party tonight.”
“No you wouldn’t,” Grady informed him.
Keefe smirked. “Worried I’ll prank you?”
“Definitely not what I’m worried about.”
She pulled Grady into the embrace, and he reluctantly stretched an arm around Keefe.
“Awww, it’s like I’m already part of the family,” Keefe said, earning a grumble.
“All that means is that someone hasn’t found your weakness yet,” Lady Gisela told them. “Or perhaps Sophie is your weakness.”
“So stubborn,” he murmured. “I can’t decide if that makes you two perfect for each other or heading for utter disaster.”
Grady, meanwhile, was studying Keefe like he’d never seen him before in his life.
“Now who’s taking over everything?” Keefe muttered. “And I bet he won’t get cut off for a week.”
“Uh, you’re not helping yourself in the father-approval department right now,” Ro whispered.
“If my son has any issues, they’re entirely his own. I’m simply waiting for him to realize he’s pushing the wrong parent away.”
“And I’m waiting for him to realize that neither of his parents deserve him!” Sophie snapped, slamming her locker shut.
The clang of metal tingled through her.
Anger.
The feeling was a revelation—and not just for her.
“There’s the Foster we all know and love,” Keefe said, offering a grin that had a whole lot of relief mixed in. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
“Does that mean we have a deal?” Lord Cassius asked.
“No,” Sophie said, standing to face him fully. “I’m done with bargains. If you want your son to live with you, try begging for his forgiveness. And if you want to join the Black Swan, maybe you shouldn’t hold vital information hostage—especially after they came to you for help.”
“And here I thought you were desperate to find Nightfall.”
“I am. And I can drag anything I need out of your mind.”
“Ah. The Vacker boy is around,” Lady Gisela said. “And still contributing very little, it seems.”
Can we stop pretending this is a dinner party and get back to why you have a drawing of the Nightfall symbol?
They weren't friends. And they weren't actually sisters.
They were just two different girls from two different worlds.
Three hands. No fourth for her. It was how it should be. How it would have to be. And Sophie could live with that. She could let them go again, to spare them that pain. But it would still hurt. It would always hurt.


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