And then, one night when the ground was almost dry and the stars burned cloudless, Rush said she was ready. Really, really ready.

Imogen looked all over Rush’s body. She could feel her magic rising. “I don’t know if we should.”

“You don’t want to be with me?” Rush asked.

“I do,” Imogen said.

“Then be with me.”

“You say that like it’s simple.” Imogen’s hand was stalled on Rush’s thigh. She tried to move it down, but she kept stopping herself, and Rush definitely noticed. They had blown past the point of no return a long time ago. She was going to hurt Rush now, either by doing this or by not doing it.

She looked away from Rush’s skin, scalded by the light of a full moon, and gave the woods a thorough stare.

“Nobody will find us here,” Rush said. “Unless someone’s following us . . .” Prickles broke out on her bare arms.

Imogen felt it on her own skin, a bed of nails.

Danny: Now

Iwait for Lelia and Rush at the end of the senior parking lot. They both have study hall last period, and Rush’s car is missing from where she usually parks it, under the stand of eucalyptus trees. I sit in their fractured shade, breathing in their balmy smell, already counting down how long I have before I need to get home.

Two motorcycles slice into the parking lot. The few students left still walking to their cars all turn to watch.

Which, I’m sure, is exactly what Lelia wants.

But what does Rush want?

I stand up, and cat-eyed eucalyptus leaves skitter down from my lap. I must be giving Lelia a look, because she shrugs as she tugs off her helmet. “Sorry. But we’re not going to have many more perfect days like this.” The three of us look around, like we can see fall seeping in at the edges of Tempest.

I take Lelia’s raven feather out from between the pages in my math notebook, where I’ve pressed it for safekeeping. I touch its treacherously soft edge and steal a glance at Rush. She’s got on jeans with a million holes and, under her leather jacket, a lacy sleeveless shirt that turns her soft, round shoulders into a serious temptation. She’s staring at me again, but this time she catches me staring back.

“Are you ready to work on the dowsing rod?” she asks, excited. Breathy, even.

She wants to help me find my magic, maybe she even wants me as one of the Grays. But it’s all about getting her girlfriend back.

“Let’s go downtown,” I say, feeling a vague pull in that direction. “We should check out the wood shop. They might have something I can use for the dowsing rod.”