Table of Contents
Title Page OVERBITE
Part One: Friday, September 17 Part One
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Part Two: Saturday, September 18
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Part 3: Sunday, September 19
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five
Chapter Thirty-six
Chapter Thirty-seven
Chapter Thirty-eight
Chapter Thirty-nine
Chapter Fourty
Chapter Fourty-one
Chapter Fourty-two
Part 4: Saturday, October 2
Chapter Fourty-three
Author’s Note
About the Author
By Meg Cabot
Copyright
About the Publisher
Part One
Meena Harper knew things, things no one else knew … things no one could know.
One of those things was that the man sitting in the car beside her was going to die.
There were also many things Meena Harper did not know.
One of those was how she was going to break the news of this man’s impending death to him.
“Meena,” he said, gazing at her profile. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you. It’s funny that you called. I was just thinking of you.”
“It’s great to see you, too,” she said.
This was a lie. It wasn’t great seeing him. How was she going to tell him? Especially when he looked so terrible. He smelled terrible. Or maybe it was the inside of his car. She couldn’t figure out what the smell was.
“I was thinking of you, too,” she lied some more. “Thanks for meeting me.”
She looked around the dark, narrow street. She felt guilty for telling him all these lies, including that this was the street where she lived, then saying he couldn’t come up because her roommate’s parents were visiting.
“Are you sure you don’t want to get a cup of coffee?” she asked. “There’s a place right around the corner. It would be much nicer than sitting in your car.”
Especially considering the smell. And what she had to tell him.
“I’m sure,” he said, smiling. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”
This was news to Meena. She hadn’t heard from him in more than a year. Their split had been relatively amicable—though at the time, she’d been convinced that her heart was broken. She was a dialogue-writer who’d been trying to make a living scratching out scripts for a now-canceled soap opera. He was a dentist specializing in veneers who’d wanted to move out to the suburbs and start a family.
Naturally, things hadn’t worked out.
“I thought you and Brianna were really happy,” she said. “What with the new practice and the baby and all.”
Which made it even worse. How was she going to break the news about his impending death when he had so much to live for?
He let out a bitter laugh. “Brianna,” he said. “She means nothing to me.”
“Of course she does,” Meena said, surprised. “What are you talking about?”
Now Meena was really worried about him. David had dumped her for Brianna. Brianna meant the world to him.
It had to be a brain tumor. That’s what had almost killed him the first time. But she’d sensed it and warned him, and the doctors had been able to find it in time to save his life.
Too bad the fact that she’d known about it had freaked him out so much that he’d run from her, straight into the arms of his radiology nurse.
But it was all right. Meena had built a new life for herself now. Sure, that life had been destroyed by Lucien Antonescu, the man who’d taught her what a broken heart really felt like.
But she managed never to think about him anymore.
Almost never.
It was only that lately, she’d been having such horrible dreams about David. In them, he was dead. It wasn’t that she could see his corpse. In the dream, she could see David’s future.
And he didn’t have one. Just darkness.
When she’d woken from the dream for a third morning in a row, breathless from feeling as if the darkness was closing in on her, she knew she had no choice but to call him.
But she also knew she couldn’t deliver news like this over the phone. They had to meet in person.
David had been surprisingly eager, offering to stop by on his way back to New Jersey after lunch and some dental meeting he had in the city.
But since Meena knew better than to give out her new address to anyone—even old boyfriends with whom she’d once lived—she’d automatically rattled off a fake one, and then met his car as he pulled up in front of the building.
Now, however, she was starting to regret this arrangement. Because David was acting so peculiarly. And what was that smell ?
“You,” he said. “You were always the one, Meena.”
“David.” Meena was confused. “You dumped me for Brianna. You said you wanted to be with someone who gave people life, not someone who predicted their death. Remember?”
“I should’ve stayed with you,” David said. “I should’ve. We were so much better together, you and me, than me ’n Brianna. Why didn’t I stay with you, Meena? Why didn’t I? You were magical, with your … magic .”
Finally, comprehension dawned. At least now she knew what was causing the funny smell. It made her job a lot simpler.
“Okay,” she said, looking around on the floor of the car for the bottle. Or maybe he was just still soused from his lunch? How many martinis did dentists drink when they got together in the city for lunch meetings, anyway?
“Remember when you used your magic on me before,” he said, “and made me all better? Do it again. I’m begging you.”
“That’s not really how it works,” Meena said, still looking for the bottle. “I’m not saying I can’t help you. Because I think I can. You’re just going to have to meet me halfway and tell me where the bottle is.”
That’s when he lunged across the seat to kiss her. And she found the bottle. It was actually a flask, and it was pressing aggressively against her thigh through his pants pocket.
Oh, well, Meena thought. That’s what I get, I guess, for trying to play the rescuer. Why do I always do that, again?
Oh, right. Because it was her job.
Which was a good thing, since she didn’t think she could live with the guilt of another soul dying on her watch. It had happened more than once, especially since she’d hooked up with Lucien Antonescu, who’d unfortunately turned out to be one of the demons the Palatine—the organization by whom she’d been hired, after her unceremonious firing from the soap opera (before its cancellation)—was hunting.
Not just any demon either. The ruler of all demons on earth, the prince of darkness.
Meena had never really had much luck in the boyfriend department.
And since most people didn’t believe her when she told them they were about to die, she’d never really had much luck in that area either.
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