Blue Moon

by Alyson Noel

  Praise for the Immortals Series

  by Alyson Noël

  “Evermore is addictive. When I wasn’t reading, I was thinking about how I could sneak away to read some more. I couldn’t put it down. I dreamt about this book. And when I was finished, I couldn’t get it out of my head. This book was simply breathtaking.”

  —Teens Read Too

  “Teen angst and the paranormal make a combustible mix as Noël utilizes typical themes and gives them a dangerous and eerie twist. Getting hooked on this new series, The Immortals, is guaranteed.”

  —Romantic Times BOOKreviews (4 stars)

  “Evermore will thrill many teen fantasy–suspense readers, especially fans of Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight series. . . . Noël creates a cast of recognizably diverse teens in a realistic high school setting, along with just the right tension to make Ever’s discovery of her own immortality—should she choose it—exciting and credible.”

  —Booklist

  “Readers who enjoy the works of P.C. Cast and Stephenie Meyer will love this outstanding paranormal teen-lit thriller.”

  —Midwest Book Review

  “Get ready for a wild ride that is filled with twisting paths and mystery, love, and fantasy. . . . The writing style, story, and characters are a bit like Meyer’s and Marr’s popular books, but written with a new twist and voice. And after reading the book, you too will probably want your own Damen, even if it means making the ultimate sacrifice.”

  —The Book Queen (5 stars)

  “I found myself unwilling to put the book down, even though I had to at some points, because I wanted to know what was going to happen. . . . Ever was so real and her emotions were so believable that it was a little creepy. It’s like Alyson Noël is actually a grieving, love-struck teenager. She got Ever completely perfect. And by perfect, I mean delightfully flawed and deep.”

  —The Frenetic Reader

  “Evermore is a wonderful book that I believe would be a lovely addition to any library . . . a book that fans of Stephenie Meyer and Melissa Marr should add to their collections. Definitely engaging and will catch your attention the minute you open to the first page!”

  —Mind of a Bibliophile

  “Alyson Noël creates a great picture of each and every character in the book. I am a fan of the Twilight series and I recommend this book to those who like the series as well. It is a very quick read, with all the interesting twists and turns.”

  —Flamingnet book reviews

  “I loved this book. It really keeps your attention throughout the story, because the puzzle gets pieced together bit by bit, but you don’t know exactly what happened until the end. . . . I would definitely recommend this to my friends.”

  —Portsmouth Teen Book Review

  “This is the first installment of the Immortals series. Ms. Noël pens a well-detailed story that makes it easy for the reader to visualize both the characters and the world around them. Evermore has a familiar theme that attracts readers, but inside this book you’ll find that the author has added some unique details that sets it apart.”

  —Darque Reviews

  “Evermore’s suspense, eerie mystery, and strange magic were interestingly entertaining. . . . I found Ever to be a character I could really respect. . . . Recommended.”

  —The Bookworm

  “Beautiful main characters, tense budding romance, a dark secret, mysterious immortals—what more could you ask from this modern gothic romance?”

  —Justine magazine

  “Evermore was a great way to lighten my reading load this winter and provided me with a creative, magical story that I really enjoyed. This is the first in a series for Noël and I think she may have a hit on her hands. . . . Evermore has good and evil, likable characters, vivid descriptions, and a good story.”

  —Planet Books

  “I fell into it easily, and loved the world Noël created. . . . The fact that Ever had psychic powers was truly interesting. They flowed neatly through the book and I felt Ever’s pain. . . . Trust me, this book was really good. I couldn’t put it down. Alyson Noël created an amazing new world, and after this book I am so curious to see where it heads because, honestly, I have no idea.”

  —Reading Keeps You Sane

  “Ever is an easy character to like. I really felt for her because of all she lost and what she struggled with daily. . . . Evermore was a really fast, engaging read with some great characters. It is the first in a series, so I’m eager to see if we will learn more about Ever, Damen, and friends in the next one. . . . It’s sure to be a great read.”

  —Ninja reviews

  “The writing here is clear, the story well defined, and narrator Ever has an engaging voice that teens should enjoy.”

  —January Magazine

  “When I got a copy of Evermore, I sat down to read it, intending to read only a chapter or two. Instead, I blazed through the first hundred pages before I knew it . . . and then I didn’t want to put the book down. Except I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer. So I picked it up the next morning and finished it. Now I can’t wait . . . to see what happens next.”

  —Blog Critics Magazine

  “This young adult novel ponders immortal love and the knowledge that ‘revenge weakens and love strengthens.’ Fans of the Twilight series should love it.”

  —Orange Coast

  “Noël writes an emotional, thoughtful book that made me cry in a couple of places. Evermore was an easy novel to get sucked into, and I wanted to get back to it as soon as possible. If you love Stephenie Meyer, you will LOVE this book.”

  —Night Owl Romance

  “Evermore is a fresh and original work that . . . branches out and explores new ground. Definitely recommended.”

  —Cool Moms Rule!

  “I totally LOVE Alyson Noël’s Evermore. . . . Noël has delivered a deliciously fresh new series that will be the next new thing. . . . Every teen and even adults everywhere will be hooked and waiting for more. . . . This is a keeper and a book that you have to go out and buy right now because if you don’t you will be missing out. People will be asking if you have been living under a rock if you don’t give Evermore a try, and that is just not acceptable.”

  —Talk About My Favorite Authors

  blue moon

  also by alyson noël

  Evermore

  Cruel Summer

  Saving Zoë

  Kiss & Blog

  Laguna Cove

  Fly Me to the Moon

  Art Geeks and Prom Queens

  Faking 19

  blue moon

  Alyson Noël

  st. martin’s griffin new york

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  BLUE MOON. Copyright © 2009 by Alyson Noël. All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.

  www.stmartins.com

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Noël, Alyson.

  Blue moon : the Immortals / Alyson Noël.—1st ed.

  p. cm.

  Summary: Eager to learn everything she can about her new abilities as an Immortal, Ever turns to her beloved Damen to show her the way, but just as her powers are increasing, his are in decline, and as she searches for a way to save him, she finds herself with a wrenching choice to make.

  ISBN-13: 978-0-312-53276-5

  ISBN-10: 0-312-53276-8

  [1. Psychic ability—Fiction. 2. Immortality—Fiction. 3. Supernatural—Fiction.

  4. Death—Fiction.] I. Title.

  PZ7.N67185Bl 2009

  [Fic]—dc22

&nb
sp; 2009010679

  First Edition: July 2009

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  For Jessica Brody,

  who’s so freaking gifted, in so many ways, it’s not even fair!

  acknowledgments

  Big, huge, sparkly thanks to: my awesome editor, Rose Hilliard, whose enthusiasm, insight, and shared fondness for exclamation marks make me glad she’s on my team, along with Matthew Shear, Katy Hershberger, and everyone else on the St. Martin’s crew; Bill Contardi, who’s everything I could ask for in an agent and more; Patrick O’Malley Mahoney and Jolynn “Snarky” Benn, my two BFFs who are always ready to celebrate once the manuscript is finished; my mom, who’s been stalking the YA aisles of her local bookstore for four straight years now; my amazing husband, Sandy, who’s so dang good at so many things, I sometimes wonder if he’s a secret immortal; and last, but not least, major major thanks to my fabulous readers—you guys are the absolute BEST and I couldn’t do it without you!

  Every man has his own destiny;

  the only imperative

  is to follow it, to accept it,

  no matter where it leads him.

  —Henry Miller

  one

  “Close your eyes and picture it. Can you see it?”

  I nod, eyes closed.

  “Imagine it right there before you. See its texture, shape, and color—got it?”

  I smile, holding the image in my head.

  “Good. Now reach out and touch it. Feel its contours with the tips of your fingers, cradle its weight in the palms of your hands, then combine all of your senses—sight, touch, smell, taste—can you taste it?”

  I bite my lip and suppress a giggle.

  “Perfect. Now combine that with feeling. Believe it exists right before you. Feel it, see it, touch it, taste it, accept it, manifest it!” he says.

  So I do. I do all of those things. And when he groans, I open my eyes to see for myself.

  “Ever.” He shakes his head. “You were supposed to think of an orange. This isn’t even close.”

  “Nope, nothing fruity about him.” I laugh, smiling at each of my Damens—the replica I manifested before me, and the flesh and blood version beside me. Both of them equally tall, dark, and so devastatingly handsome they hardly seem real.

  “What am I going to do with you?” the real Damen asks, attempting a disapproving gaze but failing miserably. His eyes always betray him, showing nothing but love.

  “Hmmm . . .” I glance between my two boyfriends—one real, one conjured. “I guess you could just go ahead and kiss me. Or, if you’re too busy, I’ll ask him to stand in, I don’t think he’d mind.” I motion toward manifest Damen, laughing when he smiles and winks at me even though his edges are fading and soon he’ll be gone.

  But the real Damen doesn’t laugh. He just shakes his head and says, “Ever, please. You need to be serious. There’s so much to teach you.”

  “What’s the rush?” I fluff my pillow and pat the space right beside me, hoping he’ll move away from my desk and come join me. “I thought we had nothing but time?” I smile. And when he looks at me, my whole body grows warm and my breath halts in my throat, and I can’t help but wonder if I’ll ever get used to his amazing beauty—his smooth olive skin, brown shiny hair, perfect face, and lean sculpted body—the perfect dark yin to my pale blond yang. “I think you’ll find me a very eager student,” I say, my eyes meeting his—two dark wells of unfathomable depths.

  “You’re insatiable,” he whispers, shaking his head and moving beside me, as drawn to me as I am to him.

  “Just trying to make up for lost time,” I murmur, always so eager for these moments, the times when it’s just us, and I don’t have to share him with anyone else. Even knowing we have all of eternity laid out before us doesn’t make me any less greedy.

  He leans in to kiss me, forgoing our lesson. All thoughts of manifesting, remote viewing, telepathy—all of that psychic business replaced by something far more immediate, as he pushes me back against a pile of pillows and covers my body with his, the two of us merging like crumbled vines seeking the sun.

  His fingers snake under my top, sliding along my stomach to the edge of my bra as I close my eyes and whisper, “I love you.” Words I once kept to myself. But after saying it the first time, I’ve barely said anything else.

  Hearing his soft muffled groan as he releases the clasp on my bra, so effortlessly, so perfectly, nothing awkward or fumbling about it.

  Every move he makes is so graceful, so perfect, so—

  Maybe too perfect.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks, as I push him away. His breath coming in short shallow gasps as his eyes seek mine, their surrounding skin tense and constricted in the way I’ve grown used to.

  “Nothing’s wrong.” I turn my back and adjust my top, glad I completed the lesson on shielding my thoughts since it’s the only thing that allows me to lie.

  He sighs and moves away, denying me the tingle of his touch and the heat of his gaze as he paces before me. And when he finally stops and faces me, I press my lips together, knowing what’s next. We’ve been here before.

  “Ever, I’m not trying to rush you or anything. Really, I’m not,” he says, his face creased with concern. “But at some point you’re going to have to get over this and accept who I am. I can manifest anything you desire, send telepathic thoughts and images whenever we’re apart, whisk you away to Summerland at a moment’s notice. But the one thing I can’t ever do is change the past. It just is.”

  I stare at the floor, feeling small, needy, and completely ashamed. Hating that I’m so incapable of hiding my jealousies and insecurities, hating that they’re so transparent and clearly displayed. Because no matter what sort of psychic shield I create, it’s no use. He’s had six hundred years to study human behavior (to study my behavior), versus my sixteen.

  “Just—just give me a little more time to get used to all this,” I say, picking at a frayed seam on my pillowcase. “It’s only been a few weeks.” I shrug, remembering how I killed his ex-wife, told him I loved him, and sealed my immortal fate, less than three weeks ago.

  He looks at me, his lips pressed together, his eyes tinged with doubt. And even though we’re merely a few feet apart, the space that divides us is so heavy and fraught—it feels like an ocean.

  “I’m referring to this lifetime,” I say, my voice quickening, rising, hoping to fill up the void and lighten the mood. “And since I can’t recall any of the others, it’s all I have. I just need a little more time, okay?” I smile nervously, my lips feeling clumsy and loose as I hold them in place, exhaling in relief when he sits down beside me, lifts his fingers to my forehead, and seeks the space where my scar used to be.

  “Well, that’s one thing we’ll never run out of.” He sighs, trailing his fingers along the curve of my jaw as he leans in to kiss me, his lips making a series of stops from my forehead, to my nose, to my mouth.

  And just when I think he’s about to kiss me again, he squeezes my hand and moves away. Heading straight for the door and leaving a beautiful red tulip behind in his place.

  two

  Even though Damen can sense the exact moment my aunt Sabine turns onto our street and approaches the drive, that’s not why he left.

  He left because of me.

  Because of the simple fact that he’s been after me for hundreds of years, seeking me out in all of my incarnations, just so we could be together.

  Only we never got together.

  Which means it never happened.

  Apparently every time we were about to take the next step and consummate our love, his ex-wife Drina managed to show up and kill me.

  But now that I’ve killed her, eliminated her with one well-placed though admittedly feeble swipe to her rather compromised heart chakra, there’s absolutely nothing or no one blocking our way.

  Except me.

  Because even though I love Damen with all of my being, and definitely want to take the next step—I can’
t stop thinking about those last six hundred years.

  And how he chose to live them. (Outlandishly, according to him.)

  And whom he chose to live them with. (Besides his ex-wife Drina, many others have been alluded to.)

  And, well, as much as I hate to admit it, knowing all of that makes me feel a little insecure.

  Okay, maybe a lot insecure. I mean, it’s not like my pathetically meager list of guys I’ve kissed could ever compare to his six centuries’ worth of conquests.

  And even though I know it’s ridiculous, even though I know Damen has loved me for centuries, the fact is, the heart and mind aren’t always friendly.

  And in my case, they’re barely speaking.

  Yet still, every time Damen comes over for my lesson, I always manage to turn it into a prolonged make-out session, each time starting out thinking: This is it! It’s really going to happen this time!

  Only to push him away like the worst kind of tease.

  And the truth is, it’s exactly like he said. He can’t change his past, it just is. Once something is done it can’t be undone. There’s no rewind. No going back.

  The only thing a person can ever really do is keep moving forward.

  And that’s exactly what I need to do.

  Take that big leap forward without hesitation, without once looking back.

  Simply forget the past and forge toward the future.

  I just wish it were really that easy.

 
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