And yet no one really doubted Joshua or Jillian when they told the story of how their grandmother demanded that they go for a late-night hike to the town’s biggest river—a hike that brought on a sudden heart attack, which she was overzealous in fighting. Too many nitrate pills had caused almost every organ in her body to fail all at once.

And that, as they say, was that.

The story was so plausible, so tearfully told, that the police never thought to explore the rest of the riverbank, where they would have found the shuffled footprints of fifty Seers, fleeing the scene less than an hour earlier. Only Scott had remained, constraining Jillian on the part of the road that hadn’t plunged into the netherworld. But once the netherworld vanished—and once we determined that Ruth really was dead—then Scott and I both had to disappear too. After all, the story of Ruth’s death grew less believable the more random teenagers you added to the equation.

So for the last hour, I had watched invisible as Joshua and his family slowly broke into pieces. It was the hardest scene I’d ever witnessed—and I’d just watched two beings die tonight. Almost as bad as watching the Mayhews’ suffering was the fact that I couldn’t do anything for them.

Finally, after all the stories had been told and the reports filled out, the Mayhew family was free to leave. Too tired or disoriented to pretend that he wasn’t looking for me, Joshua began wandering the edges of the bridge, hissing my name. Seeing one of the remaining officers give him a funny look, I stayed invisible but rushed over to Joshua and whispered that I would meet him at his house. His eyes still searched for me in the shadows, but then he nodded bleakly and rejoined his family on their way to their SUV.

Although I desperately wanted to join them as well, I hung back, waiting around the bridge so that I could make sure the police didn’t start expressing suspicions, now that the family had left. To my relief, none of the officers said anything out of the ordinary as they wrapped things up and left too.

After the last cop car pulled away, I shifted back into visibility with a heavy, painful sigh. With one hand, I probed the shoulder that had popped, making sure that it hadn’t dislocated. Then, feeling like I’d just been punched repeatedly, I began to trudge down the road toward the entrance of the bridge. I’d almost reached it when, inexplicably, I stopped, threw my head back, and screamed out the foulest curse word I knew.

I clenched my hands, digging my nails into my palms, and began to scream the word over and over. It echoed back at me from the girders and the tree line. At some point, my screams incensed a nighthawk, who began to shriek with me. Other than those noises, however, nothing else answered me. Nothing called out, from this world or another, to tell me what to do next.

Chapter

EIGHTEEN

By the time I finally returned to the Mayhews’ house, dawn had started to break. Still, I could see a yellow light from the front window—a sure sign that at least some of the Mayhews were awake. Making arrangements, I supposed, or mourning together. So I moved past the house without hesitation. Joshua needed me, but not quite yet; right now he needed his family more.

I was so exhausted that I could hardly muster the energy to soften my steps up into the gazebo. Once inside, I pulled the curtains shut and fumbled my way over to the daybed. Then I collapsed onto its surface, fully clothed and still wearing my muddy boots.

I craved peace so badly, I could almost taste it. Every part of my body ached for some rest from these nightmarish attacks. Still, I thought I knew myself too well to believe a moment’s peace was possible—I thought I would stay awake for hours, crying perhaps, or just turning in restless circles on top of the covers.

But to my surprise, I must have immediately fallen asleep instead. What else could explain why a gorgeous, endless prairie had suddenly replaced the gazebo? I’d also gone from lying on a bed to standing in the grass—a change that, for some reason, didn’t bother me. At that moment, nothing seemed to bother me. For the first time in months, I felt at rest.

A light breeze swept over me, pleasant and warming. It brought with it the aroma of earth, wildflowers, and that strange, indefinable scent that lets you know the day was sunny, even with your eyes closed.

The air smelled like spring. Like new life.

In an unhurried manner, I stretched my arms above my head and sighed contentedly. Maybe it was because of how starkly this place contrasted with the netherworld, or maybe it was just my exhaustion, but the prairie looked more beautiful then than the first time I saw it. And I had seen it before, during my car ride to New Orleans with the Mayhews.

But now, the grass in which I stood seemed taller, reaching well past my knees. All around me bright colors burst through the grass: yellow sweet clover, white larkspur, and purple wild indigo. Flowers my father had taught me to recognize, when they appeared each spring. I reached for a nearby blossom—a round cluster of pale yellow petals that looked like some iridescent bubble floating above the field—when I thought I heard him speak.

“That’s prairie parsley, darlin’,” he whispered, from somewhere behind me. I turned toward the sound of his voice, but the field was just as vacant as before.

“Where are you?” I whispered to the empty breeze.

“He’s not here,” a feminine voice answered.

I turned back around and saw the redheaded girl from my dreams, standing where only prairie grass waved moments before.

“Hello again,” she said, almost apologetically.

“Where are we?” I demanded. “I thought you promised that you’d stop making me hallucinate.”

“It’s not a hallucination. This realm is as real as it was the first time you came here. But since you’re not part of this realm, you’re only allowed to access it in your dreams.”

“You didn’t answer my entire question,” I pointed out.

The girl smiled slightly, and explained. “It’s an entrance of sorts, just like the netherworld. The netherworld leads to the darkest place in existence; this prairie leads to the lightest.”

I glanced around me at the blue sky, the soft sunshine, the lush prairie. The lightest place—heaven—waited, not far from here. I could feel it now, just like I could feel the nearby presence of hell whenever I stood in the netherworld. That explained my tranquility when I’d arrived in this prairie.

“Do you like it here?” the redhead asked quietly. “Would you . . . like to see what lies beyond this prairie?”

I didn’t respond, choosing instead to fold my legs beneath me and sit cross-legged on the grass. The girl mimicked me, tamping down the blades between us with her hands so that we could see each other. Once she’d finished, she stared at me again, obviously waiting for my reply.

But I simply placed my chin on my hands, rested my elbows on my knees, and considered her: auburn curls, bright green eyes, old-fashioned white tunic over bell-bottomed jeans. Finally, after a long silence, I leaned back.

“I think I know who you are.”

She raised her eyebrows but didn’t speak.

“You’re Melissa, Eli’s dead girlfriend. The one who dumped him before he started stalking me.”

She barked out a surprised laugh. “Yeah, I am.”

“I’m guessing you have a new job. One that doesn’t involve helping a demon’s slave.” When I quirked my head to one side, she confirmed my guess.