I hear the sound of the Prince of Wands ripping in two.

Cain then falls to the ground in the room, banging against the far wall with a loud thump. Fury blazes in my chest like a furnace. All I can think about is rounding back on Cain to pry the half-Prince from his treacherous fingers.

“Chase,” Amelia hisses, trying to keep her frantic voice low. “Let’s just go!”

All of my instincts tell me to charge Cain, but I realize Amelia is right. The Wanderers inside must have heard that crash. They’ll be after us now.

There’s no more time to think.

So I run, following Amelia as she sprints along the backside of the inn. I run, even when I hear the shouts coming from behind us in room eight. I run, fueled by fear and anger and fiery determination.

It’s only a few more seconds before Amelia and I reach the front lot. Every churning step back toward Charvan feels like a mile, like each newly parked car in the driveway could be a booby trap. I can’t shake the thought that more unseen Wanderers might spring from the shadows to steal from us again.

But when Amelia and I make it safely to Charvan, we find Cleo and Logan waiting for us inside. They both stay silent, but they look just as simultaneously frantic and relieved as we must.

It only takes another few seconds for Logan to start the engine and roll Charvan out into the desert night. As we leave, I turn to take one last look out of the back window. Mercifully, I don’t see any Wanderers flooding the road to chase us.

All I see is the Joshua Tree Inn disappearing into the darkness.

I finally exhale, very ready to leave this deserted land of Wanderers behind.

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PART TWO

COUPLED

CHAPTER FIVE

AMELIA

IN THE TAROT, every ending is a new beginning. If that’s true, I hope this next beginning won’t be anything like our last ending.

My heart never hammered harder than it did on our way out of the Joshua Tree Inn. It wasn’t until we were miles away that I felt I could breathe. Even then, I knew what was coming next, at least for me.

I learned last year that my body doesn’t work quite like everyone else’s, that it stores anxiety like a bathtub. It might take a while to fill up, but once it does, all I need is a shot-glass worth of stress to overflow. Ever since a string of nasty panic attacks last year, I do everything I can to keep my anxiety from accumulating—but last night’s events didn’t exactly decrease my stress levels.