Mom called Dr. Jacobs and put her on speaker phone to join our round table. When I described the feather I'd just watched disintegrate in front of my eyes, she was so silent I thought she might be holding her breath.

"Do you know what that might belong to?" Mom asked.

"I can't say for sure. But there is one dinosaur in the Hemming collection confirmed to have feathers." She delivered the news like a terminal diagnosis. "Deinonychus."

I was pretty sure Dixon had introduced me to that dinosaur during our tour of the museum, but I couldn't remember what it looked like. "Tell me it's small."

"It's a raptor," Dr. Jacobs said. "Three feet at the shoulder, give or take."

Every hair on my body stood up. Raptor? As in a hook-clawed, shark-toothed clever girl?

"Three feet isn't so bad," said my six-foot-tall dad, whose face was well above the mauling zone.

"Pretty sure tigers stand three feet at the shoulder," Martina piped up on Dr. Jacob's end of the call.

"Hush." The word came through muffled, like Dr. Jacobs was trying to cover the phone.

"I'm just trying to be realistic," Martina said in the background. "Deinonychus is like the mountain lion of Cretaceous Texas."

"Alrighty. As long as we're being realistic"—Dr. Jacobs sounded fed up—"let's talk about the Acrocanthosaurus in the room. How come Crow doesn't just pick the biggest theropod in the museum and stomp Glen Rose like a pile of fire ants?"

Because he doesn't care about the others. Pine looked at me. He has to make your life worse in small steps. So that you'll come forward and give up your power.

I tried to relay that to the group as word-for-word as possible, adding, "You're saying he's going from smallest to biggest, to break me?"

Pine nodded.

"Makes sense," Martina said.

"It might also mean he knows the risk of"—Dad hesitated—"doing something drastic to Cecelia."

"You mean killing me?" I asked.

Dad winced. "It may be his last option because he doesn't know what might happen." He put his hand on my shoulder and brightened his voice. "Which is good."

So, he'd try to kidnap me before he tried to off me?

It didn't feel good.

Actually—I really didn't feel good. Like I'd swallowed a boiling-hot ravioli, and it got stuck halfway down to my stomach. A heavy, molten marble under my ribs.

I put a hand over the empty place where Crow's soulshine should be trapped. "You've gotta be kidding me."

As the hotspot in my chest went supernova, I crumpled to the floor.

Even two hours away, Crow's power blazed like a dark star, and my magic slipped into its gravity. It laser-beamed out of me and fell across the miles between us, pulling my guts with it.

"Cecelia." Dad's voice cut through my brain fog.

"It's him," Mom said. "He's using her magic. Summoning something."

"From all the way in Glen Rose?" Dad picked me up off the floor and laid me out on the hotel bed. He slotted his fingers between mine and held tight.

Pine gave me a mental shake. Say something.

It was tough to even form a thought, but I managed to say, I'm here.

I caught my breath as the burn started to fade. When I opened my eyes I found Mom, Dad, and Pine all gathered around, looking down on me.

"I'm okay." It came out weaker than I meant it to.

"This is not okay." Dad looked at Mom, and his bedside manner flatlined. "Forget the cops. We're handling this ourselves."

Mom reached into her pocket and pulled out something shiny. Mrs. Hemming's silver hand axe pin.

I struggled to sit up. "Why do you still have that?"

Dad stopped me with a firm hand and eased me back against the pillows. "Not now. Lie still."

But I couldn't calm down. I wouldn't. "That thing should be in the garbage. You're seriously thinking about siding with Dixon's mom? She's the devil."

"Cee." The warning in Dad's voice shut me up.

Mom closed her fingers around the hand axe and brought her fist up to her mouth. "She wants Crow. Maybe more than we do. And she has more money. More manpower." She turned toward the balcony like she was thinking. "We could let her hunt him down. Do the work for us."

"So, the friend of my enemy is my friend?" I scoffed. "I'm pretty sure that's not how the saying goes."

Mom snapped a sharp glare over her shoulder. "You're not part of this decision." She shifted her attention to Dad. "Cal, if we can get close enough to this guy, we might have a chance to negotiate some kind of truce."

"Or kill him," Dr. Jacobs said.

Pine gave a nod and a hum of agreement I'm sure she could hear over the phone.

Dad kept his mouth shut and held my hand. But I could tell he was one sucker punch away from breaking his do no harm oath.

We were all thinking it.

"I want that." Mom tightened her grip on the pin. "Believe me. But we have to think about this. Because if we destroy Crow's body, his soulshine will go back to Cecelia. And he'll be with her. Forever."

The room went quiet.

Dad tightened his grip on my hand.

I'd only had Crow in my head for a couple of seconds. So when I imagined him riding shotgun for my first school dance, my sweet sixteen, my high school graduation—or worse, puppetting my body like Pine could—my throat tightened up.

How long could I actually live like that? Shoving his thoughts out of my head? Wrestling him for control?

Mom spoke up again. "If he doesn't want to kill her, and we don't want to kill him . . ."

I want to kill him, Pine muttered in my mind.

". . . then maybe we should at least try to talk," Mom finished.

I let out a shaky sigh. I wanted Crow gone gone. But now that I'd brought him back from the dead, maybe that was too much to ask.

"I'll go," Dad said.

Mom shook her head. "Mrs. Hemming thinks I'm the mage. We need to keep it that way. I should be the one to talk to them."

"Someone has to put the fear of God in this maniac. And if something happens—" He cut himself short. "Cecelia needs you. You should stay with her."

"Waitwaitwait." I sat up and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. "How does it make sense to leave me behind? Crow's summoning dinosaurs left and right, and I'm the only one with the magic to put them away for good. Plus, I can literally get into his head. Shouldn't I be part of this?"

"Absolutely not," Mom said. She looked to Dad for confirmation.

But he focused on the ground, combing his fingers through his beard, a frown working a deep crease into his forehead. Like maybe he actually saw my point.

She gave him a leading stare and waved for him to pile on. "Hello?"

"Our daughter can make dinosaurs," he said slowly.

Mom shook her head. "We are not even considering this."

"I'm not saying she and this freak should ever come face-to-face, but logically, she's our strongest advantage."

"This is not a logic problem."

"Why don't I call you back?" Dr. Jacobs hung up without even saying goodbye.

Pine and I exchanged a glance, and I pulled a yikes face. I was hoping it would be funny, but he mostly looked like he was ready to take out his hearing aids.

"I'm just saying the smartest thing to do would be to get her back in that museum." Dad's voice came out tight. "If she summons everything in there—I mean carefully—then this guy can't hurt her anymore."

"How could you even consider putting her in danger?" Mom's voice came out a whisper, but it sounded like it wanted to be a yell.

"Don't act like you care about her more than me. She's my kid, too." Dad stood, all geared up like he was ready to stop an incoming train. "And maybe she wouldn't be in danger if you weren't so scared of her being dangerous."

The air in the hotel room was like the inside of a storm cloud, practically crackling.

Stress bunched between my shoulder blades.

"Cecelia," Mom said. "Your dad and I need a minute."

Didn't have to tell me twice. I grabbed a keycard off the dresser and backed toward the door, catching Pine by the arm on my way out. "We're just gonna mess around the hotel."

"Take your phone," Dad said.

Mom pointed after me. "And don't leave this building."

"Promise." I shut the door.

Pine and I walked to the elevator. I pushed the button for the ground floor, and for a moment we stood in silence.

Wow, he said.

"Yep." I sighed, trying to vent some of the pressure building inside me. It'd been a long time since I'd seen Mom and Dad in a standoff like that. "Those are my parents."

The elevator dinged and the doors opened.

We got on and rode down to the ground floor, and when the doors opened again, they let in a thumping party anthem.

What is that sound? Pine peeked around the elevator door.

It sounded like it was coming from somewhere down the hall. "Let's check it out."

We walked down to an open ballroom washed in colored spotlights and strings of white bulbs. Tables with flowery centerpieces had been pushed aside to clear a dance floor, and a huge mob of people dressed in their Sunday best jumped along to a trashy Flo Rida song.

I grinned. "I think it's a wedding."

We stood in the doorway for a while, watching.

A circle formed, and a guy in suspenders who must've been a groomsman ran into the middle and did a sloppy backflip. He barely stuck the landing, but everyone went crazy, screaming and surging around him.

I glanced over at Pine.

The corner of his mouth was tugged into a small, crooked smile. It might've been the first smile I'd ever seen from him. But then his eyes went kind of misty, and that smile wobbled. Wilted.

An icky, crushing feeling settled in my chest, like my heart was sinking quicksand. The poor guy had barely been alive for twenty-four hours, and pretty much all we'd done so far was business. It just wasn't fair.

I poked him toward the party. "Do you want to check it out?"

Normally, I wouldn't crash. But there were like a million people in there. Nobody would notice. And if Pine wanted to go, I'd lead the way.

He swallowed and fidgeted in the doorway.

I took his hand, stepped into the ballroom, and bumped my head to the music to show him it was okay. "We could dance."

Our arms stretched until my grip on his hand went tight. He balked like a horse in front of a trailer ramp, scanning the ballroom.

"Too loud?" I asked.

No. But he didn't follow.

So I didn't pull. But my heavy heart sank deeper into that quicksand. There had to be something I could do for him.

"Hold on." I snapped my fingers and brightened up. "I've got something better. Stay right here."

Leaving him in the doorway, I slipped into the ballroom, took a plastic plate from the snack table, and grabbed one of everything. Cheese, crackers, fruit, little finger desserts. And before anybody noticed I'd infiltrated the reception, I hurried back out, balancing my literal food pyramid.

When he saw my heap of pretzels, brie, and chocolate-covered strawberries, Pine's jaw dropped.

I giggled and gave him a shove toward the elevator. "Go, go, go."

We ran down the hall—not that anybody was tailing us, but I wasn't taking chances. I mashed the call button, and we rode the elevator back upstairs. Except this time, we passed our floor. Because I was taking Pine all the way up.

The doors opened, and we stepped out on a warm, windy rooftop. Clear, rippling water lapped at the edges of a huge pool surrounded by lounge chairs. The Bank of America tower shimmered in the distance, reflecting puffy, white clouds in its ocean-blue glass.

Up here, my life-or-death problems seemed as far away as the traffic noise.

"Looks like we get the place to ourselves." I opened my free arm to the pool and the view. "What do you think? I know you like water, so . . ."

Pine turned a circle, taking in the skyscrapers. His body loosened a little.

I set the plate of wedding snacks down beside the pool, stepped out of my sandals, and sat on the side, dangling my feet in the water. I patted the cement, offering him a seat.

Pine sat beside me and pulled off his sneakers and socks—but then, before I could stop him, he dropped himself into the pool, clothes and all.

"Wait—"

He paused to look at me, already up to his stomach in water.

Probably should've seen that coming. It was way too late to stop him from getting soaked. And honestly, after the week he'd had? He should do whatever he wanted.

I held out my hand. "Hearing aids. They can't get wet."

He fished them out of his ears. The tiny microphones inside let out this little whistle of feedback as he dropped them in my hand.

Then, slowly, he sank underwater. His clothes and hair swayed with the gentle current.

He stayed down there so long it would've freaked me out if he wasn't already dead. To be honest, I wasn't sure he even needed air anymore. Maybe breathing was just a habit.

I set his hearing aids aside with my phone and sat back, swishing my legs in the water and sucking the chocolate off a mini pretzel.

Slowly, Pine floated back to the surface, rising until the water came up just under his eyes. He bobbed there like an alligator, staring at me.

"Hey," I said.

He cruised toward me, slow and steady. And the closer he crept, the more suspicious I got.

"Don't do it," I said.

He narrowed his eyes and drifted closer.

I knew he could hear me. I was in his stupid head.

"I'll kick your teeth in before I let you dunk me. I'm not kidding." I braced myself on the edge of the pool, ready to scramble.

He lunged toward me.

"You better not!" I pulled my legs out of the water.

But I wasn't fast enough. He latched his hand around my ankle—surprisingly strong—and dragged me in.

My squeal got cut short by a splash and a mouthful of pool water.

I kicked free from Pine and came up sputtering and peeling curls out of my face. "For real?"

He surfaced next to me, laughing so loud a nearby flock of pigeons took off.

I cracked a smile and slapped a big wave at him. "I'm gonna destroy you."

We ended up goofing around in the water for hours—playing tag, doing cannonballs, and snacking on stolen wedding food until the sky turned pink. The pool lights turned on, and the Bank of America building's neon green stripes glowed with the rest of the Dallas skyline.

Finally, when my fingers were raw and raisin-y, I climbed out and sat in the wind to dry. But Pine stayed in, floating on his back, arms open, staring into space.

I looked up with him, watching a jet trace a contrail between the clouds.

Pine didn't even ask what an airplane was. I got the feeling he was too tired to learn anything else today—until, out of nowhere, he asked, What's a wedding?

In the middle of one of the biggest cities in Texas, where he could've been asking about lightbulbs or garbage trucks or Taco Bell, that was what he was stuck on?

"It's when two people decide they want to be together forever," I said. "So they get married."

Did your parents get married? he asked.

"Yeah." I focused on my wrinkly fingertips. "They're not anymore, though."

Do you think they'll get married again?

"Definitely not. They drive each other crazy." I pulled my legs up and hugged my knees. "I used to wish they would. When they first split up, it was really scary, because everything was different. I couldn't even imagine how my life was going to look. Or, like, if I'd ever be happy again."

Pine kept his eyes on the sky. He didn't say anything. But I wondered if that was how he felt, times a thousand—like life as he knew it was over.

"Turns out, even though my mom and dad suck at being married, they're pretty good at being my parents." I waited for him to glance over at me before I said, "They took care of me. They'll take care of you, too. I promise."

After a long, quiet moment, Pine went back under.

He resurfaced right in front of me and stood up in the shallow end, water running down his face, football jersey stuck to his skin. Cecelia . . .

Electricity prickled up my back like my spine was a powerline. Had he ever called me by my name?

He stood there for a moment, hair dripping. The pool lights caught his eyes, revealing a twinge of pain behind the chlorine blue. I can't stay here.

The sparks flickering under my skin blacked out. "What does that mean?"

I mean . . . He opened his mouth and took a breath, like he was searching for the right words. Closed it again. I don't want to stay here.

"What?" My insides froze over. "We all like you. We want you here."

I know your family wants to help me. He waded up to the edge of the pool, inches from me. And it wasn't until he got up close that I saw the tears in his eyes. But my family is gone. I don't want a new one.

I didn't move. Didn't breathe.

When we're done with the Crow. . . He squared his jaw and blinked hard. Looked down. I think maybe I should go back to sleep.

"You can't be happy here?" I couldn't manage to bring my voice above a whisper.

He kept his head bowed. I don't know.

I sat there. Stunned. Silent.

What could I say?

Except that I was so sorry. So sorry he couldn't go back to his way-too-short life. So sorry he had to face Crow again. So sorry he was stuck with me—like everybody was stuck with me and the problems I kept churning out all day and night.

Beside me, by my sandals, my phone lit up.

It took a second for me to find my voice. "It's my parents."

Pine nodded.

I sniffed, swiped my nose, and picked up the phone. "Hi."

"Hi, Cee," Dad said. "We have a plan."