Fear-free exhilaration, the only destination up. Hennessy could feel the ascent in every part of her body. The gravity weighting her stomach. The breeze against her arms. The sense of endless space above and below. Up, up, up.

Hennessy let out a scream, just to hear herself howl, as they flowed up through the darkening night. Then, suddenly, they broke through a cloud she hadn’t even realized they’d been passing through. Up here, the air was thin and cold and wonderful, everything tinged the furious raspberry red of a nearly gone sunset. Ronan looked worlds away from the version of himself she’d seen only hours before in the fast-food restaurant. There he had been defeated, guilty, both victim of circumstance and architect of said circumstance. Here he was powerful, confident, joyful, a cheerful king. Hennessy versus Jordan.

But maybe not. Maybe, Hennessy thought again, there was a world where she was good at this.

The two dreamers coasted up there in the incredible sky for however long time lasted in dreams, sucking in big pure breaths of air, feeling the ley line swirl around them and through them.

Then Ronan said, “We gotta wake up. Keeping the Lace out of here is giving me a headache.”

His words took a few seconds to land.

When they did, they cut deep. Deeper than his intentionally cruel question had before, although she was sure he hadn’t intended it this time.

Hennessy said, “So you’ve been patronizing me this whole time, is that it?”

“What?”

“This whole time you’ve been letting me think we’re, what, equals?” The desert was shredding around them. The bikes were gone.

Ronan peered around, bemused. “Are you pissed?”

“You let me think I was doing this.”

“You were doing it. This is your desert.” But he couldn’t disguise his wince. “Goddamn, it’s strong.”

“Right. Sure. You babysat me.”

“I just took some of the weight—”

“And didn’t tell me?”

Ronan’s expression was puzzled as the checkered shape of the Lace cast itself across his face. “You know this is what you always do.”

Yeah, she did. Except she’d thought she was getting better. Learning, finally.

The sky was pulsing, and with each dark pulse, the shadow of the Lace was printed across it. It was the Lace dream. It was always the Lace dream. It was always going to be the Lace dream.

Ronan pressed a hand to his temple. “I can’t—”

Chapter 9

Ronan hadn’t thought much about the future.

This was a way he and Adam had always been opposites. Adam seemed to only think about the future. He thought about what he wanted to happen days or weeks or years down the road, and then he backfilled actions to make it happen. He was good at depriving himself in the now in order to have something better in the later.