“Both of you shut up!” Nash brushed past us and stomped into the parking lot. “I’m nobody’s problem but my own.”

I rushed after him with Sabine on my heels, and we caught up with him just past the first row of cars. “Nash, go home with Sabine. She’ll make sure you don’t kill yourself.”

“Why bother? I have to be dead to get your attention, right?” He took a left in the first aisle, and I had to jog to catch up. “What are you, some kind of necrophiliac? ’Cause that’s really sick.”

“Damn it, Nash.” As Sabine caught up with us, I grabbed his arm and spun him around to face me before he could take another step, trying to ignore the cold that seeped through his sleeve and into my fingers. “I don’t expect you to understand about me and Tod, and I’m so sorry that we hurt you. I can’t justify what I did and I can’t explain what I feel for him, and I honestly don’t know where it would go, if I were going to be here past tomorrow. All I know is how good I feel when I’m with him, and how I want to be with him when he’s gone, and how, when he looks at me, I get this feeling in the pit of my stomach, like I’m falling, but I can’t remember jumping, and I don’t think I’ll ever hit the ground.”

Nash jerked his arm from my grip. “I do understand—that’s how I feel about you. But that doesn’t matter, does it? It wouldn’t matter even if tomorrow never comes and you get to live forever.”

“Nash, tomorrow will come, and I will die. And you can’t deal with that like you’re dealing with this. No more frost. Promise me.”

“You can’t make out with my brother, then ask for promises from me. Not that any of that matters now, considering we’re both going to lose you in a matter of hours,” Nash said. “But you’re an idiot if you can’t see what Tod’s really doing. He’s clinging to you for the same reason he hangs around me and Mom—he thinks if he has something to keep him anchored in the human world, he won’t lose his humanity. That’s all you are to him, Kaylee. You’re just another anchor helping him cling to what he can’t let go of.”

“That’s not true.” Unshed tears burned in my eyes and behind my nose, and I refused to let them fall. “Why would he bother? What kind of anchor am I going to be for him when I’m dead?”

Nash huffed in disgust. “Sabine was right—you only see what you want to see. It’s easier for you to cast him as the hero and me as the villain, ’cause then you can justify running away when I needed you. I needed you, Kaylee, and you weren’t there. And now look what’s happened.” He spread his arms to indicate his own frost high, and guilt and anger buzzed inside me like a swarm of wasps in my chest.

“I never cast you as the villain, Nash. You’re doing thatto yourself.” My openhanded gesture took in his entire body, currently full of Netherworld poison, and Sabine bristled.

“You know this is at least partly your fault,” she snapped.

“I know.” It bruised something deep inside me to see him on frost again, and it hurt even worse to know I’d driven him to relapse. Frost—Demon’s Breath—was more dangerous to humans than to bean sidhes, but Nash couldn’t dodge permanent damage forever. While he was high, the drug would magnify his emotions—in this case, heartbreak and anger. It would also amplify any aggression—true even in the most even-tempered users—and compromise his judgment. But the long-term effects—insanity and potentially death—were much scarier.

I couldn’t just leave him like that, knowing it might be the last time I ever saw him. “What can I do? You want me to call your mom?” Harmony knew how to help him through this. She’d done it before.

“No.” Something dark and determined stirred in his irises, and an uneasy pressure settled into my chest. “Can you just…give me a ride home?” he said, and Sabine stiffened on my left.

“I’ll take you home!” she insisted, but he shook his head.

“I need to talk to Kaylee. Spend the day with me,” he said, holding my gaze with one so intent I couldn’t look away. “Keep me company.”

My heart tripped unevenly and I glanced at Sabine to find her jaw clenched, her eyes dark with something stronger than fear, more dangerous than anger.

“Both of us?” I wouldn’t go without her. I couldn’t do that to either of us.

Nash shook his head. “Just you and me. One last time.” When I hesitated, he sighed. “Please, Kaylee. I just want to talk.”

“She doesn’t want you!” Sabine shouted, and we both turned to her in surprise. “Not like that. She can’t trust you, but she was scared to admit it and you were scared to face it. But now it’s out, and you both need to just move on.”

“Sabine, let it go,” Nash said, and I could feel the seductive warmth of his Influence, which sent chills skittering up and down my spine, even though it wasn’t directed at me. “I just want more time,” he said, and though he was looking at her, Influencing her, he was really talking to me. “A chance to say goodbye.”

“Stop it!” Sabine spat, visibly shaking free of his words, sunlight glinting off the ring in her upper ear. He couldn’t control her unless she wanted to be controlled. For her, his Influence was a game, and today she wasn’t playing.

Nash reached for me, and when I stepped back, I bumped into the side of a dusty blue sedan. “Just come talk to me. We don’t have to go to my house. We can go to the lake and feed the geese.”