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upset.” Her voice barely carried over the pattering of the rain.
    “Why? I mean, why particularly. Besides the apocalypse.”
    “Oh, yeah, besides that.” She had to smile then, and Mateo knew it was all right to cover her hand with his. How did she manage to look beautiful even in an orange reflective parka? “I tried to look through Goodwife Hale’s Book of Shadows and it—rejected me. Wouldn’t let me even hold it.”
    “How did that happen?”
    “It knows I’ve sworn myself to the One Beneath.” Nadia’s wide eyes sought his. Her hand beneath his palm was chilly, like someone who’d awakened from a bad dream. “The evil I’m working with—it’s becoming a part of me.”
    No , he wanted to say. That’s not true. And yet there was a kind of dark fire about her now, a feverish quality to the light in her eyes. Maybe that was what allowed her to glow despite the darkness, to remain warm despite the cold . . .
    Quit it , he told himself. She hasn’t changed. Your mind is playing tricks on you, that’s all.
    “Stop it right there.” Mateo gripped her hand more tightly, rubbing his thumb back and forth along her skin. “You said it yourself. You’re working with evil right now, because you don’t have any choice, and because it’s the only way to stop Elizabeth. You know that as well as I do.”
    “The Book of Shadows doesn’t know that.”
    “Exactly. Because it’s a freakin’ book. It’s just—just—it’s a tool you can use, right? A tool. Nothing more than that. Right now, you’re using a different tool. You just can’t hold them both at the same time. That’s all there is to it.”
    Nadia stared into the distance for a few seconds, and he studied her profile—the delicate slope of her nose, her stubborn little chin—until she said, “Do you really think so?”
    “Absolutely. If working with Elizabeth is the better tool right now, then you’re doing the right thing.” He lifted her hand to his and kissed it. “You usually do.”
    She turned back to him, and her smile took away all the cold, all the dark. Mateo leaned in to kiss her. The momenttheir lips met, his heart seemed to jump inside his chest—which was the moment a small voice crowed, “They’re kissing!”
    They broke apart to see Cole up against the front window, grinning because he’d caught his big sister in the act. The thump of footsteps inside revealed that Mr. Caldani was coming to snag Cole out of the way—but that, too, kind of killed the mood.
    Instead Mateo leaned his forehead against Nadia’s and murmured, “The next time you’re feeling lost, don’t avoid me. Call me.”
    “And then you’ll find me,” she whispered. “You always do.”
    Nearby, from a shadowed place between two trees, Elizabeth watched them. Rainwater trickled down her face, plastered her hair to her scalp and shoulders, and soaked her dress through. She didn’t pay attention to the rain, didn’t even wipe her face, as she stared at Nadia and Mateo kissing on the porch. Nadia’s mouth was open against his; Mateo’s hands ran through her thick black hair. Passion , Elizabeth thought. For her it was an abstract concept.
    Once, long ago, she had been in love, but she hardly remembered it any longer. Had it made her so easily distracted? So vulnerable?
    Perhaps it had. No matter.
    Nadia needed to commit herself more fully to darkness. Right now she served the One Beneath by obligation; whatHe truly wanted was her devotion. Elizabeth intended to give Him precisely that.
    The love Nadia and Mateo shared would serve as just one more weapon in her hands.
    In a whisper, Elizabeth repeated the words she’d said to Nadia earlier that night: “You need more experience with betrayal.”
    As the rain pattered comfortingly against her bedroom window, Verlaine sat on the floor, her cat curled next to her, and flipped through Goodwife Hale’s Book of Shadows. She’d been trying to outline the thing—even opened a file for it in