Meghan, whispered a voice, heart wrenchingly familiar, drawing me out of the void. I recognized it immediately, just as I realized it was a figment of my desperate imagination, because the real owner of that voice would never be here, talking to me.
Pulling out the chain, I closed my fingers around Zeke's cross, closing my eyes. The edges pressed into my palm as I remembered, forcing myself to recall what he'd told me once. You're not evil, he had whispered, those bright, solemn blue eyes staring into me, peeling away every defense. No one who fights so hard to do the right thing is evil.
For the rest of my existence, if I lived to see the end of this world, there would never be another Ezekiel Crosse. There would never be another soul as bright as his. And that both terrified me and made me savagely - and maybe selfishly - determined to keep him. Zeke was mine now. Forever.