Jude smiles sympathetically. “If you’re asking what I think you’re asking, the answer is: He’s already gone. I’m sorry. Gunnar Larsen has always been terrible at goodbyes.”

“Oh.” I’d kind of figured as much, but I’m still a little crestfallen anyway.

“If it makes you feel any better, he’ll be back.” Jude cuts me a look from beneath his long eyelashes, and I can see we feel the same. “A year from now—maybe less—he’ll start thinking about all the things he should have done but didn’t, and he’ll want to see if it’s not too late.” With a shrug, he looks away again. “Like I said, he’s terrible at goodbyes.”

“What about you?” I try not to make it sound flirtatious, even though it kind of is. “Will you be back?”

“There’s a chance.” He casts his cigarette to the ground and grinds it out. When he looks up again, something passes between us, a shared current, and he smiles. “I’ve got a feeling the three of us will never manage a proper goodbye.”

The air is practically vibrating, that current lifting the hair on my arms. It feels like something secret, something I’m not supposed to bring up, but I do anyway. “You feel it, too, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” he answers softly. “We fulfilled the oath, but the three of us will always be joined now—by blood, by magic. On some level, we’ll always feel it.” With a knowing look, he says, “Be good to yourself, August Pfeiffer. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

“Don’t be a stranger,” I reply, but only because I can’t think of anything else. The truth is, he and Gunnar will both be back in my life before long—but I can’t really explain how I’m sure of it without making things unnecessarily complicated. So I turn around and start walking for my bike … and the peculiar whispering sensation that bothers my skin vanishes in an instant as Jude slips away behind me.

It’s the strangest thing. The witches purged Azazel from my body, and I know he’s not coming back—at least, not in my lifetime—but a few days after the exorcism, I started to discover that he left behind some parting gifts. My undead radar has returned, almost as strong as before; and lately, I’ve begun to realize that I can still explore other people’s thoughts … and catch limited glimpses of their potential futures.

It’s an ability I try not to abuse, of course, because that would be wrong—but I will absolutely use it to save my ass on this algebra final.

Unlocking my bike, I start for home as the sun dips lower on the horizon, only a few hours left before the fell of dark.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS