I went back to my room and downed a couple shots of vodka before crashing into my bed and falling almost instantly asleep. I dreamed of Sydney, not in the spirit magic way I’d hoped, but in the normal way. I dreamed of her laughter and the exasperated—yet amused—way she’d say, “Oh, Adrian,” when I did something ridiculous. I dreamed of sunlight turning her hair to molten gold and bringing out the glints of amber in her eyes. Sweetest of all, I dreamed of her arms around me, her lips pressed to mine and the way they could fill my body with desire and my heart with more love than I’d ever thought it capable of holding.

My dreaming and waking worlds shifted, and suddenly, there were arms wrapped tenderly around my waist and soft lips kissing me. I responded in kind, increasing the fervor in that kiss. I’d been so lonely for so long, so lost and adrift not just in the world but in my own head. Having Sydney here in bed grounded me and brought me back to myself in a way I hadn’t known was possible. I could weather the storms in my world, the craziness in my family . . . all of it could be endured now that Sydney was here.

Except she wasn’t here.

Sydney was gone, being kept far, far away from me . . . which meant it wasn’t her arms around me or her lips I tasted. Struggling out of my sleepy haze, I opened my eyes and tried to make sense of my surroundings. The blinds filtered out most of the morning sun, but I could still see enough to realize the girl in bed with me had black hair, not gold. Her eyes were gray, not brown.

“Nina?”

I pushed her gently away and scooted as far from her as I could while still managing to stay in the bed. Amusement sparkled in her eyes, and she laughed at my surprise. “You were expecting someone else? Wait, don’t answer that.”

“No . . . but what are you doing here?” I blinked around the dim room. “How did you even get in here?”

“You gave me a key for emergencies, don’t you remember?” I didn’t, but it also didn’t surprise me. She looked mildly disappointed that it had just been something I’d done on drunken impulse. “I got worried when I didn’t hear from you this morning, so I headed over here to check on you when I went on my lunch break. I’ve got a weird late shift.”

“Assaulting isn’t really the same as checking on me,” I said.

“‘Assaulting’ is kind of an exaggeration,” she chastised. “Especially since you were the one who reached for me when I sat next you on the bed.”

“I did?” Again, I couldn’t say I was entirely surprised. “Well . . . I’m sorry. I was half-asleep and didn’t know what I was doing. I was . . . dreaming.”

“You seemed to know what you were doing to me,” said Nina huskily. She reached toward me. “Were you dreaming of her?”

“Who?”

“You know who. Her. The girl who torments you. Don’t deny it,” she ordered, seeing me about to protest. “Don’t you think I can tell? Oh, Adrian.” It was jarring hearing her say it, after I’d just dreamed about Sydney uttering those very words. Nina lightly stroked my cheek. “I could tell as soon as you came back to Court someone had broken your heart. I’ve hated seeing you on the path you’re on. It eats me up.”

I shook my head but didn’t remove her hand. “You don’t understand. There’s more to it than you know.”

“I know that she’s not here. And that you’re miserable. Please . . .” She scooted back across the bed and leaned over me, her hair forming a curtain of dark curls around us. “I’ve been drawn to you since the moment we met. Let me make you feel better. . . .”

She leaned down to kiss me, and I held up a hand to stop her. “No . . . I can’t.”

“Why? Is she coming back?”

Nina’s voice wasn’t cruel, but there was certainly a challenge in it, and I found myself looking away. “I . . . I don’t know. . . .”

“Then why fight this?” she asked beseechingly. “I know you like me. More importantly, I know you understand me. No one else gets what it’s like, to be tossed around on the waves of spirit and endure what we do. Isn’t that worth something? To just have someone around so you aren’t alone?”

She tried to kiss me again, and I didn’t stop her, largely because it was hard to argue against her point. I certainly didn’t love her like I did Sydney, but we did get what the other was going through. She didn’t judge me for what I did or try to get me to find better ways to handle my despair. And yes, she was right: It was nice not being alone.

Like that, my mother’s words suddenly hit me like a slap in the face: Stop chasing a dream and focus on someone you can build a stable life with. That’s what your father and I have done.

Was that what I was doing with Nina? Building a stable relationship with someone who shared my vices and need for escape—but whom I ultimately didn’t love? It would certainly be easy. Nina made sure of that. We could spend a lifetime together, commiserating about how hard it was to be a spirit user, going to one party after another in the hopes of putting off the darkness a little longer. It would be a pleasant life. Stable, as my mother had said. But I would never try to better myself. I would never achieve greatness, the way Sydney had always made me feel I could. And I would never, ever have that euphoric, all-consuming love that had wrapped around me every moment I was with Sydney, that feeling of love that constantly made me think, Yes, this is what it means to be alive.