“The ‘faerie dust’?” Laurel asked, remembering last year as well as earlier that summer in Avalon.

Tamani nodded.

“Let me see.” She’d been too late in Avalon, but now she had a perfect opportunity.

“You got mad at me last year.”

“Oh, please. Don’t make me responsible for all the stupid things I did last year.” She grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand into hers.

He didn’t resist.

His hand was lightly brushed with a fine, glittery powder. She held his arm at an angle so the pollen caught the sun and glimmered. “It’s so pretty.”

Only then did Tamani’s hand relax. A playful grin crossed his face and he lifted a hand and rubbed a finger across her cheek, leaving a light, silvery streak.

“Hey!”

His swift hands shot out and he drew a line across her other cheek. “Now you match.”

His hand reached out once more—aiming for her nose—but she was ready this time. Her fingers closed around his wrist, blocking him. Tamani looked down at his hand, a good three inches away from her face. “I’m impressed.”

He brought his other hand up so quickly, Laurel didn’t even see it before it touched her nose. She swatted at his hand as he laughed and continued trying to paint stripes and she tried, usually unsuccessfully, to block him. He finally managed to grab both of her hands and held them down to her sides, pulling her against his chest. Her smile melted away as she looked up at him, their faces only a few inches apart.

“I win,” he whispered.

Their eyes locked and Tamani slowly moved forward. But before his face could reach hers, Laurel dropped her head, breaking eye contact. “Sorry,” she murmured.

Tamani just nodded and let her go. “Were you going to try to get the upstairs today too?” he asked.

Laurel looked around at the half-clean downstairs. “Maybe?”

“I’ll stay and help, if you want,” he offered.

“I would like you to stay,” Laurel said, her words answering more than just the simple question. “But only if you want to.”

“I do,” he said, his gaze unwavering. “Besides,” he added with a grin, “you didn’t bring a ladder. How will you get all the way to the ceiling without my help? You’re practically a sapling.”

They worked for the next three hours, until they were both tired and dusty, but the house was mostly clean. At the very least, it would be an easier job the next time Laurel attempted it.

Tamani insisted on carrying the bucket when he walked her back out to her car. “I’d ask you to stay, but I really would be more comfortable if you were home by sunset,” he said. “Especially after last night. It’s just better that way.”

Laurel nodded.

“And be careful,” he said sternly. “We watch out for you as much as we can, but we’re not miracle workers.”

“I will be careful,” Laurel promised. “I have been careful.” She stood for a few moments, and this time it was Tam who stepped forward first, his arms twining around her, holding her tight, his face against her neck.

“Come back soon,” he murmured. “I miss you.”

“I know,” Laurel admitted. “I’ll try.”

She slid in behind the wheel and adjusted the mirror so she could see Tamani standing with his hands in his pockets, watching her. A small movement caught her eye and she studied a thick tree at the end of her yard. It took a moment to make out the tall, slim faerie standing half behind it. Shar. He said nothing to make his presence known—he just glared.

Laurel shivered. He wasn’t glaring at Tamani. He was glaring at her.

NINETEEN

LAUREL PULLED OPEN THE HEAVY DOUBLE DOORS IN the front of the school on Monday morning, anxious to see David. Between her trip to the land and a last-minute visit David had to make to his grandparents, they hadn’t seen each other all weekend.

Her smile faded when she got to her locker and found it deserted. She and David drove in together about half the time, but when they didn’t, they always met here before class. And after class.

And between classes.

But today, he was nowhere to be seen. She would have assumed he was just running late, but he hadn’t called to say so, as he had in the past. Laurel tried to reason away her concerns. It wasn’t exactly a regular occurrence for David to miss the first bell, but still, it did happen sometimes. She slowly retrieved her Spanish book, trying to look like she was busy instead of like a girl who had nothing better to do than hang out at her locker, waiting for her boyfriend.

She procrastinated until thirty seconds before the final bell, then sprinted to make it into Spanish on time.

She rushed out of class right as her teacher released them only to find the space in front of her locker empty again. Fear pounded through her and she hurried to the front office, wishing for the millionth time that she had a cell phone. Her parents could certainly have afforded one for her, but her mother steadfastly maintained that she didn’t need one until she left for college.

Parents.

“Can I use the phone real quick?” Laurel asked the secretary. The secretary plunked a cordless down on the counter in front of her. Laurel dialed David’s cell number and her tension rose as it rang, once, twice. On the fourth ring his voice mail picked up. It beeped for her to leave a message, but what was she supposed to say? I’m worried. Please come to school?

She hung up without saying anything. She considered ditching and driving around town looking for him, but besides the futility of that, she had chemistry next. If he did just show up super late, at least if she was in class she’d know immediately.