“You’re gonna be around long enough to slay hundreds of demons—” the thought of which made me sick “—but you only lose your virginity once. So, spill.”

But I didn’t want to. I wasn’t done going over it in my head and I didn’t feel like sharing the memory just yet. Even with my best friend. “It’s kind of private, Em.”

“Bullshit. I told you everything about my first time.”

“Yeah, but you may remember that I didn’t actually ask you to.”

Emma frowned, and I realized I’d hurt her feelings. “Fine. Forget it.” She set her bottle down and hopped off the counter, and I had to chase her across the living room.

“Em, wait. I’m sorry.” I grabbed her arm and she stopped and turned to face me. “I want to tell you. I just… I don’t want to spoil the memory by talking about it. If that makes any sense.”

Her eyes widened and she studied my face. Then she smiled. “Wow. I didn’t think talking about my first time could possibly make it worse than it already was.”

“What do you mean?”

She laughed, but there was a bitter edge to the sound. “There’s not much you can do to further ruin a memory consisting of staticky radio music, the backseat of a Camry, and a three-minute mistake.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, Em… .”

She waved my apology off. “Forget about mine. I want to hear about yours. Whatever you want to tell me.” She reclaimed her water from the kitchen and we sank onto the couch facing each other, and I realized that she’d been waiting for this for more than a year. Since the night of the Camry and the boy who’d barely spoken to her afterward.

I made a mental note to tell Tod how wonderful he was every single time I saw him, for the rest of our afterlives.

“So…?” she prompted, leaving the details up to me.

“So…he’s beautiful.” I couldn’t stop smiling, and my stomach was doing flip-flops over just the memory of the past hour of my life, so blessedly different from the hour before that.

Em rolled her eyes. “I know. Everyone who’s ever seen him knows. The Hudsons have freakishly good genes. What else?”

“I love him. Like, to-the-end-of-time love him. Is that silly? Because I’ve truly lost all perspective. Is it naive of me to think he’ll be the only one. Like, ever?”

Em laughed. “Could you have imagined this moment a year ago? You’re up to the hilt of your magical dagger in demon guts one minute, then ready to vow forever to an angel swinging a scythe the next.”

“He doesn’t actually have a scythe, you know.”

“My point stands.”

“So, have I lost it? Am I crazy for even mentioningforever?”

Emma shrugged. “Normally I’d say that’s the postcoital euphoria talking, but considering that the two of you are facing eternity together, I think you’re feeling exactly what you’re supposed to be feeling.” Emma shrugged. “That said, I don’t think you understand how this is supposed to work. Your details are adorable and sweet. Like, diabetic-coma sweet. But I’d really appreciate anything in the neighborhood of time, place, or position.”

“Position?” I could feel my face flame.

“Never mind. Time and place, then.”

“Um, right before you got here. My room.”

Em glanced around, suddenly paranoid. “Is he still here?”

“No, he had to go back to work, and I still have to meet with Madeline, so…”

“You want me to go?”

“No, I want you to stay. I told you Thane’s back, right?” I said, already hating the change in subject, and she nodded. “Well, he’s not alone. Avari’s here, Em.”

“Here, as in…?”

“In the human world. I don’t know how he’s doing it, but he killed a woman at the mall, and—” My phone beeped from my pocket, and I pulled it out to find an incomprehensible text from Madeline.

T&# at you3.

I was still frowning at the screen when she materialized in my living room, and Styx started growling from his perch in my father’s chair. “I apologize, Kaylee, but there doesn’t appear to be enough buttons on my phone to actually type a complete sentence, and I don’t see the point of text messaging, when we could just as easily speak on the phone or in person.” She stopped when she noticed Emma, who obviously could neither see nor hear her. But she could see me staring at an empty spot in my living room, and she’d been around long enough to know what that meant.

“Tell her to leave,” Madeline said, crossing both arms over her chest, phone still clutched in one hand. “We have business to discuss.”

“Emma’s involved in that business, so she stays.”

“This is not up for negotiation, Ms. Cavanaugh.” Madeline always used my last name when she was frustrated with me. Which was most of the time.

“Unless you’ve recruited a new extractor in the past couple of hours, I don’t see that you have much of a choice. You need me. We need each other. And Emma is involved, so she gets to hear everything I get to hear.” Until and unless I decided that knowing too much would put her in more danger than she was already in.

Madeline scowled, and a week ago, that alone would have made me give in. But not anymore. Not now that I understood just how many people’s lives were at stake.