I raised my head. Oliver had taken one of the pages of sheet music, turned it over, and written across the top, “Know your enemy.”

“What do you know about the Delphinians?” he asked. “What’s their history?”

I sighed and shook my head. “I don’t know. They were once the senate in the Everneath. There was a power struggle, and the king and queen banished them to the Surface.”

Max appeared at the doorway of the kitchen. “But not before they were horribly disfigured by enchanted fire.” He sat down. At my hopeful look, he said, “Gavin’s playing with fire in the kitchen. I’m tired of breathing in smoke.” He turned to Oliver. “Now the Delphinians live in London, where they discovered a small leak from the Everneath. It’s like they survive by taking turns sucking air through a straw.”

Oliver took notes the entire time we were talking. “Okay, and what do they desire more than anything? Do they want admission back into the Everneath?”

“No. They’re insane,” Max said. “They like being separate. They don’t desire anything.”

I thought about how they broke into the D.O.P. distribution center. “That’s not true. They desire information. They want to be the keepers of all knowledge. They’re hoarders of records and shit.”

Max leaned against the armrest of the couch and shrugged. Oliver’s pencil scratched a few more lines.

“What are their strengths?”

I remembered back to Mrs. St. John’s assessment. “They’re smart. And they can see parts of the future. Not all of it.”

“What do you mean?” Oliver said.

“Someone once explained it to me like this. Imagine looking through a long metal pipe.” I made a circle with my fingers and thumb and brought it up to my eye. “The image you’d see is pretty straightforward. Now imagine that the pipe was bent in a U-shape and that tiny shards of mirrors were placed inside the pipe so that when someone looked through one end, he would glimpse pieces of what lay on the other end. Supposedly the Fates can bend the entrances to the Everneath, like the one under the Shop-n-Go, and because of the time discrepancy …”

My voice faded as I saw Oliver’s blank expression, and I wondered if I would have had better luck trying to tap-dance the explanation instead of use words.

“Just … they can see the future, okay?”

“Sometimes they can,” Max clarified. “They see patches of the future, which they try to interpret.”

“Go on,” Oliver said.

“They’re diabolical.” I paused. “And they have no ethics or morals.”

Oliver scribbled the words no ethics/morals. He now had a long list of strengths. “And now, what are their weaknesses?”

Max and I exchanged glances. I shrugged. “They like to kill?” I said.

“That’s not a weakness,” Max said with a snort.

Oliver put down his pencil. “Look at their history. Look at their desires. I’d say their weaknesses are a fear of fire, especially the kind that scarred them, and their relentless pursuit of information. What if you approached them by offering what they want most?” He leaned forward. “New information. Tell them about Nikki.”

I couldn’t put into words how fast the anger boiled up inside me. It took me by surprise: the burning in my chest at the thought of sacrificing her.

“No,” I said. The effort to keep my voice calm made it sound like a growl. “We’re not going to serve them up Nikki. They’d probably shut her away. Run tests on her.”

Max narrowed his eyes in a knowing way but stayed quiet.

I looked at Oliver. “They like to make deals. They like to collect on payments. We’ll pay them for information.”

Max lowered his voice, sounding grave. “Now you’re talking about making a deal with the devil. You have no idea what they’ll want in return. You’ll think you’re bartering with your fingers, and you’ll end up losing your arm. They’re freaks whose punishments are legendary and whose prisons are inescapable.” He laughed mirthlessly. “I can’t think of one single Everliving who has benefited from a visit to the Delphinians; and that, my friend, is what Cole is proposing.” He leaned closer. “A deal with the devil, brother. With. The. Devil.”

I looked away, reluctant to validate the truth behind Max’s words. “I have to find out.”

As if to add emphasis to my declaration, thunder clapped in the sky above, and droplets of rain began to pelt the windows. Max shrugged. “No you don’t. You’re going to the Delphinians, but not because you want to find another girl like Nikki. You’re going because you want Nikki.”

“This has nothing to do with the girl. This has to do with the throne.”

He lifted his chin. “Sure.”

A tiny explosion went off in the kitchen. Oliver put down his pencil and darted toward it. Hysterical laughter followed. But Max and I kept our eyes locked on each other.

“I’ll go to London,” he said. “But I won’t talk to them with you. You’re on your own for that.”

“Fine. That’s all I ask.”

Max turned and stalked away to the kitchen. I heard the teapot being filled with water, and I knew that he would soon disappear into his room, chamomile tea in his hand.

For as little emotion as Max ever showed, being an Everliving meant the most to him. In his human life he was twenty, working on a farm in Hungary when he contracted the Black Death. For three days he hovered on the brink of death until I brought him to the Everneath and made him an Everliving. Maybe it was that brush with death that made him appreciate the life of an Everliving more than the rest of the band. More so even than me. So why did he resist something that could take us to the throne?

As if he could hear my thoughts, Max strolled out of the kitchen, tea mug in hand.

“It’s because of the sacrifices you made for her. Sacrifices you’re still making. Sacrifices that will one day get you killed.”

He walked away and shut his bedroom door.

He was right. I’d been known to go to extremes to get her. Was I making a mistake confronting the Delphinians? Max thought I was doing this because I was obsessed with Nikki. Was he right?

I needed to see her face. Right now. The last time I’d seen her, I’d ended up on a five-day bender and woken up in a stranger’s room. I had to see her again to prove to myself that she wouldn’t have that kind of power over me ever again.

I had to see her again to prove I wasn’t doing any of this for her. Without telling anyone where I was going, I left the condo and headed for my motorcycle.

Once in Nikki’s room, I watched her sleep as I had done so many times in the last six months. She lay on her side against the wall as if she were sharing her bed. But the other side was empty.

The window was cracked open, but I resisted the temptation to go inside. I put my hand on the glass, my fingertips resting on the reflection of her hair; and for the five millionth time since I’d met her, I asked myself how we had gotten here.

“Nikki.” The word coming out of my mouth formed a tiny circle of fog on the window.

She stirred.

Shit. I held my breath. Her mouth formed an o and then a soft moan escaped her lips, floated across the room, and slipped through the crack in the window.

“Jack,” she said. She held up her hand, palm outward, as if she were personally reenacting one half of the Romeo and Juliet palm-to-palm scene.

I shook my head. Was she dreaming that Jack was with her? Could there really be any layer of her subconscious that would allow her for even a moment to believe Jack wasn’t gone for eternity?

It shouldn’t have been possible. Even in something as strong as the human dream.

I frowned and sighed deeply, not sure what bothered me more: the fact that her subconscious was causing her a pain that would only be felt in the morning, or the fact that it hurt me to know that she dreamed of Jack.

I clenched my fists, wanting to punch my own face in for being so delusional. Silently, I pushed open her window all the way and climbed in. I stood over her bed and made her an oath.

“I will find someone else. There must be a million just like you. I don’t need you.” She didn’t stir, as if she didn’t care about me even in her sleep. “And your hair is not like a minuet.”

With that last zinger, I crawled back out through her window and made a promise to myself not to return until I’d found out how I could replace her.

FIVE

LAST YEAR

Football camp begins for the epic lover.

Meredith raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Cheerleading camp? You want me to go to cheerleading camp?”

“You are a cheerleader, aren’t you?” I said, avoiding her gaze.

“Yes. But only until I’m in the Feed with Max, which will be in, oh …”—she glanced pointedly at her watch—“… fourteen days. I don’t think I’m going to need any rally skills as a Forfeit. Don’t tell me you’re still obsessed with her.”

She didn’t need to specify who she was referring to. Meredith had been hounding me about my “obsession” with Nikki ever since I’d met her at Harry O’s. Not that I even tried to deny it.

“She might be at the bus drop-off,” I said.

“Yeah.” Meredith crossed her arms and leaned against her front doorframe. Her mother hovered beyond the screen door, tidying up the living room, flitting about because of the Everliving on her doorstop. “She’ll be there to say good-bye to Jack. Her boyfriend, Jack.”

“I know, I know. The one with the epic love and all that. But as that one philosopher guy once said, love dies. And epic love dies epically.”

She sighed. “I think you’re confusing it with absolute power corrupting absolutely.”

“Love … power … what’s the difference?” She started to protest, but I put up my hand. “Just be ready in an hour. You’re going to cheerleading camp. I’ll pick you up.”

She narrowed her eyes, but at the sound of her mother making a tsk tsk from behind her, she sighed. “Fine. But I’m only staying one day.”

“Fine,” I said.

Three yellow buses sat in a row. Dozens of PCH students hoisted hundreds of bags overflowing with either football gear or pom-poms. Cars filled the parking lot as parents and friends dropped off their cargo.

But all I noticed was how the sunlight reflected off Nikki’s dark hair, lighting her up like a homing beacon, pulling me to her. Maybe I was the only one who saw it that way.

No. The guy who had his arms around her probably saw it that way too.

“He has a clinging problem, doesn’t he?” I commented.

Meredith scoffed. “Epic love clings epically.”

“Yeah, and that epic love is going to football camp for two weeks.”

I left Meredith before she could respond and strolled to within earshot of Nikki and the quarterback. Yes, his grip on her—literally and emotionally—was strong, but if I could get her alone …

“It’s okay, Jack. I’m not even paying attention to it,” Nikki was saying.

Paying attention to what?

“I know you are,” Jack said.

Nikki placed one of Jack’s hands on her cheek and leaned into it. The contact was electric with the energy of a love that tasted way too layered for a teenage girl, and for a moment I wondered how it would be to take both of them to the Feed.

But no. Nikki had to be mine and mine alone.

“Two weeks,” Nikki said, pure love dripping off the words.

This had to stop. I used my brightest voice. “Okay, lovebirds. The buses are waiting.” Get your hands off my girl.

Nikki looked at me. Jack kept his eyes on Nikki.

“Hey, Cole,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

I jerked my head toward the buses. “Max asked me to drop Meredith off.” Nikki glanced at the buses. She frowned for a moment, and her eyes narrowed the tiniest bit. I followed her gaze, but all I could see was a group of cheerleaders practicing a lift at the side of one of the buses.

Nikki quickly looked away. “That’s nice of you,” she said, her voice considerably cooler than it was before. Jack didn’t seem to notice that someone in the group of cheerleaders had ruffled Nikki’s feathers. Not doing too much to dispel the stupid-jock myth.

I didn’t want to let on that I had noticed. Besides, the time had come to break up the tender parting of ways. “It was on the way. I’m making some silk screens for T-shirts at the shop.” I pointed toward the GraphX Shop down the street.

“Making your own T-shirts?” she said, recovering her good humor. “Don’t you have people for that? Like professionals?”

“Well, I usually travel with an army of professional T-shirt makers, but today I thought I’d go it alone.”

“What are the screens of?” she asked.