“Oh no,” groaned Sydney. “Please don’t let this be like that place in Los Angeles. I don’t know if I can handle a room full of squirrel decor.”

I grinned, thinking back to the time Sydney and I had investigated another bed-and-breakfast that had taken rabbits to an unprecedented height in tacky decorating. “Hey, come on, after everything else we’ve been through, that’d be the least of our worries.”

But when we stepped inside, we were pleasantly surprised to see everything was actually pretty tastefully decorated in neutral colors and modern decor. No quilts with squirrels on them or squirrel-shaped wicker sculptures in sight. The innkeeper, though surprised to see guests this early in the day, was happy to welcome us and get us into a room.

“What’s with the inn’s name?” I asked as I paid for the room.

The innkeeper, a kindly middle-aged woman, beamed. “Oh, that’s in honor of Cashew.”

“Cashew?” asked Sydney.

The innkeeper nodded. “Our resident black squirrel. I’d call him our pet . . . but, well, he’s so much more than that.”

I peered farther into the lobby. “Does he have a cage here or something?”

“Oh, no,” she said. “That’d be cruel. Also illegal. He’s . . .” She shrugged and gestured vaguely with her hand. “Well, he’s around somewhere.”

“What do you mean ‘around’?” asked Sydney uneasily. “Like, outside?”

“Oh, no,” said the innkeeper. “Poor thing wouldn’t know what to do out there.”

Sydney’s eyes widened. “Wait. If he’s not outside, then does that mean—”

“Let’s get you two into your room,” said the innkeeper sunnily. “I’ve got your key right here.”

The room she took us to had a cozy sitting area and access to a private porch, as well as a big, plush bed. After an uncomfortable day of travel, I was looking forward to catching up on sleep and finally getting some real rest. Before I could throw myself on the mattress, however, I knew I needed to get in touch with Nina and tell her the deal was off. When Sydney said she wanted to take a shower, I saw the perfect opportunity. It was just around the time Nina would be asleep, waiting for me to contact her through a spirit dream. I didn’t have to be asleep for that, simply in a meditative state.

I sat on the bed, calming myself and closing my eyes, calling on just enough spirit to reach across the dream world to Nina. My tranquil state was shattered, however, when I heard a scream from the bathroom. I opened my eyes and tore across the room, flinging the door open.

“Adrian, look out!” cried Sydney.

A small, furry black form leapt off the counter, landing right on my chest. Out of instinct, I swatted it off. It landed on the floor and went scurrying off across the room. Sydney, wrapped in a towel, stepped out and stood beside me.

“I think it went under the bed,” she said.

“That thing better not get on me again,” I muttered, walking gingerly over to the edge of the bed.

You’ve faced much worse than this, Aunt Tatiana said scornfully. Stop being foolish.

Sydney followed, and when I lifted a corner of the bed frame up, she waved her hand in what I recognized as a gesture for casting spells. Seconds later, I felt a breeze stir and blow under the bed. Moments later, the squirrel—Cashew, I presumed—came tearing out and began frantically racing around the room. Sydney, courageously overcoming her earlier shock, darted over to the door that led to the porch and opened it. After a few circuits of the room, the squirrel noticed and ran out. Sydney slammed the door shut behind him, and for several seconds, we both just stood there.

“Why,” she asked at last, “can’t anything ever just be simple for us?”

“Look at you,” I teased, walking over to her. “Fearlessly vanquishing Cashew the Deranged Squirrel.”

“I wasn’t so fearless initially,” she admitted. “Not when he jumped out at me when I was about to get in the shower.”

I pulled her to me, suddenly very aware of how little she was wearing and how gorgeous she looked—even after a close call with a squirrel. “Hey, you were braver than me. And look, you did it all without losing that towel.”

Amusement lit Sydney’s features as she let me draw her near. She patted the top of the towel, where it wrapped around her chest. “It’s all in how you fold it,” she said practically. “Do it the right way, and nothing will get it off.”

“Challenge accepted,” I murmured, bringing my lips down to hers.

She melted into me, warm and vibrant and smelling exquisitely of Sydney. I pressed her against the wall, bringing us closer together, and she wrapped a leg around my hip. I ran a hand over the smooth, perfect skin of her thigh, and it hit me that we were truly alone for the first time in a very long while. My mother wasn’t outside our door. We didn’t have an entire Court of Moroi surrounding us, waiting for us to step outside, or a team of Alchemists hunting us beyond its walls. We’d lost ourselves. We’d made an escape plan. No one knew we were here. If we’d wanted to, the power to simply disappear was right before us.

I think that knowledge, that we were truly and really free for the first time, sparked an extra intensity between us. There was a heat in Sydney as she kissed me back and entwined her fingers in my hair that reminded me of our early days together. I lifted her easily in my arms and carried her over to the bed, amazed at how the strongest women I knew could feel so light in my arms.

I was also amazed at how difficult that towel was to get off.

Sydney laughed softly, trailing her fingers along my cheek. The sunlight peeping in around the window blinds made her look like she was made of gold. “Uh-oh,” she said. “Are you going to fail in your challenge?”

I finally untwisted the fold and removed the towel, tossing it as far from the bed as I could. “No way,” I said, as always in awe of her body. “It takes a lot more than that to keep me away. You’ll have to try harder next time.”

She helped pull my shirt off over my head. “Now why would I want to do that?”

We kissed again, and as we became entangled in each other, I found all the worries that had chased me in the rest of the world disappearing. Nina, the Alchemists, Alicia . . . even Aunt Tatiana. There was no one in the world but Sydney and me just then, and the only things that mattered were our love and the way I felt in her arms. It was a joy that went beyond just physical pleasure, though I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t plenty of that.