No, Emma wasn’t screaming. I was. Agony consumed me, and my back bowed off the floor. Floor. Yes. That’s where I was, not the clouds. I was lying flat on my back, fire burning me up, sweat pouring from me. Something hard beat at my chest, nearly cracking my ribs.

Finally, though, the fire died and I sagged against the wood planks, boneless. But still the beating continued.

“—must have poisoned her somehow,” Frosty was saying.

I pried my eyelids apart. Cole straddled my waist, his hands flat on my chest, pressing.

CPR?

“Cole,” Bronx said. He knelt beside me. His spirit, not his body. He glimmered so beautifully. He lifted his hands from inside my arm, the fire in his fingers dying. “Cole! She’s alive. You can stop now.”

Cole stilled, his eyes meeting mine. Agony ravaged his features. He pressed two fingers into the side of my neck and encountered the slow but steady thump, thump.

“Your heart stopped,” he croaked. “It actually stopped.”

And yet, I experienced no pain. Not now. Not even in my jaw, where Benjamin had hit me.

Even as fogged as I was, one fact became clear. We were getting stronger. All of us. We’d come through things that would have broken anyone else. We’d done things we’d never done before.

We would do things we’d never done before.

One life for many.

Even better, we were capable of things Anima probably wasn’t equipped to handle.

“Ali,” Cole said. “Talk to me.”

“Thank you,” I said on a sigh and closed my eyes. I was grinning as I drifted to sleep.

* * *

I woke gradually, luxuriating in the warmth surrounding me...and the strong chest underneath me.

I lifted my head, my cheeks heating when I realized I’d kinda sorta drooled on Cole’s bare chest. I wiped away the humiliating damp spots as gently as possible, brushing against the piercing in his nipple.

His long lashes parted, and those lovely violet eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled at me. “Morning, sunshine.”

Gonna play the name game, were we? “Morning, sugar puff.”

His grin widened. “I’m sugar puff now?”

“Well, it’s better than monkey butt, isn’t it?”

“And monkey butt is what you really wanted to call me?”

“Maybe.” I smoothed the hair from his forehead, waiting for a vision that never came. I glanced at the clock on the nightstand—11:13...in the afternoon? That meant we’d already had one today, weren’t due to have another one until tomorrow.

And in came a flood of memories. The assassin. The gunfight. The extended vision we’d already shared. Emma.

“I died,” I said, blinking in surprise. “Kind of.”

A pallor took root under Cole’s skin. “Your heart stopped, yes, and that’s the most scared I’ve ever been. But Bronx lit up like a Fourth-of-July rocket, providing the fire while I performed CPR. You came back to me.”

I fell on him, hugging him close. “Always.”

He hugged me back with gusto. “Ankh looked you over while you were snoozing and said you’re as good as new.”

Now I just had to stay that way. “Oh, hey. I just remembered. Emma told me I share my abilities with other slayers every time I use my fire. Like passing on spirit cooties, I guess.”

He thought for a moment, nodded. “That explains why Frosty and Bronx had a vision.”

“They did?” Seriously? “If you tell me Frosty saw himself in bed with Bronx, the way Gavin saw himself in bed with Jaclyn, I will absolutely, one hundred percent...want front-row seats when it happens.”

He laughed as he only ever laughed with me, genuine and carefree. “Sorry, Ali-gator, but they actually saw themselves in a fight. Bronx was trying to drag Frosty away from something, and Frosty was trying to get back to it—whatever it was.”

Mind twister: What could possibly make two best bros fight, when they’d never fought before? “Why don’t the visions show us more?” I grumbled. “Why do we get mere glimpses?”

“Maybe what we see is all we can handle. Maybe they aren’t meant to change our paths but to prepare us for what we face.”

Yeah. Maybe. I sat up, my hair tumbling around my shoulders. “We’ve got a lot to do today.”

Cole toyed with the end of a curling lock, as if he wouldn’t tolerate a total separation from me. “Yes, we do.” Then he gave the lock a gentle tug, disturbing my balance. As I fell on his chest, he rolled, pinning me to the mattress.

I glared up at him. “We are not doing what the fake people in books and movies do.”

“And that is?”

“Kissing before we brush our teeth. I don’t want you anywhere near my morning breath.”

“You trying to deny me my prize? I saved your life. Now I own it.”

“Well, the prize needs a good scrubbing.”

“But I want it prescrub.”

Not in a million years. “If we’re going to get technical, I owe Bronx a prize, too. We should call him in here and let him collect.”

“He prefers fruit baskets,” Cole replied, deadpan. “Ali?”

I went soft and dreamy. “Yes, Cole.”

“I’m about to do something you’ll claim you don’t like, but we’ll both know you’re desperate for more. Won’t we?” Then he pressed a hard kiss on my lips, and I squealed.