by Элисон Ноэль
I look at her, knowing I can just lower my shield, think the answer, and she'd hear the words in my head, but knowing it'll resonate a lot more if it's spoken out loud, I say, "I guess because it all came at such a high price-the loss of my family-never getting to cross-" I pause, halting the words from escape. Not quite ready to explain about Summerland, that glorious mystical dimension between the dimensions, or the bridge that takes all mortals to the other side-or at least not just yet anyway. One thing at a time. "It's just that I'll always be here. I'll never get to cross over and see my family again-" I shake my head. "And, well, for me anyway, that feels like a pretty big penalty."
She reaches toward me, her sad puppy dog look displayed on her face, before quickly pulling away. "Oops, sorry! Forgot how you hate to be touched." She crinkles her nose as she tucks a windblown chunk of hair behind her multipierced ear.
"I don't hate to be touched." I shrug. "It's just sometimes-well, it can be pretty revealing, that's all."
"Will it be like that for me too?"
I look at her, having no idea what gifts she has in store.
She's already so far ahead of the curve, on just one bottle of elixir, who knows what a full case will bring?
"I don't know." I shrug. "Some of it happened because I died and went to-" Her eyes narrow, straining to read my thoughts but not getting very far, thanks to the shield that I built.
"Well, let's just say I had a near-death experience. It tends to change things." I pull onto her street.
She looks at me, gaze fixed, intense, fingers idly picking at a small tear in her leggings as she says, "Seems like you're kind of cherry-picking the things you want me to know." She raises her brow, daring me to deny it.
But I don't. I don't do anything but close my eyes and nod.
So tired of lying and covering up all the time. It feels good to admit to a few things for a change.
"Can I ask why?"
I lift my shoulders and take a deep breath, forcing my gaze to meet hers. "It's a lot to take in all at once. Some of it needs to be experienced to understand-while other stuff-well, a lot of it can wait. Though there are still a couple things you need to know."
I park on her drive and fumble through my bag, handing over a small silk pouch, just like the one Damen gave me.
"What's this?" She pulls the strings and digs her finger inside, coming away with a small cluster of colorful stones, held together by thin gold strands, and hanging from a black silk cord.
"It's an amulet." I nod "It's-it's important you wear it all the time. Pretty much every day from now on."
She squints, swinging it back and forth, watching as the stones catch and reflect in the sunlight.
"I have one too." I pull mine out from under my tee, revealing my own cluster of stones.
"How come mine's different?" She glances between them, comparing, contrasting, trying to decide which is better.
"Because no two are the same-we all have different-needs. And wearing these will keep us safe."
She looks at me.
"They hold protective qualities." I shrug, knowing I'm treading into murky waters, the part Damen and I disagreed about.
She tilts her head and scrunches her face, unable to read my thoughts but well aware I'm holding back. "Protect us from what exactly? I mean, we're immortal, right? Which, if I'm not mistaken, pretty much means we'll live forever, and yet, you're telling me I need protection? To be kept safe?" She shakes her head. "Sorry, Ever, but that just doesn't make any sense.
Who or what could I possibly need to be protected from?"
I take a deep breath, assuring myself I'm doing the right thing, the only thing, despite what Damen may think. Hoping he'll forgive me as I say, "You need to be protected from Roman."
She shakes her head and crosses her arms, refusing to believe. "Roman? That's ridiculous. Roman would never hurt me."
I gape, hardly believing my ears, especially after everything I've just told her.
"Sorry, Ever, but Roman's my friend. And not like it's any of your business, but we're actually well on our way to becoming more than friends. And since it's no secret you've hated him from day one, it's really not all that surprising to hear you saying this now. Sad, but not surprising."
"I'm not making it up." I shrug, striving for a calm I can't even summon. Knowing that raising my voice, trying to force her to see things my way, will never work on someone as stubborn as her. "And yeah, maybe you're right, maybe I don't like him, but considering how he tried to kill you and all-well, call me crazy, but I think that's a good enough reason. I even have witnesses-I wasn't the only one there, you know!"
She squints, fingernails tapping against the door handle as she says, "Okay, so let me get this straight, Roman tries to poison me with some messed-up tea-" "Belladonna-also known as deadly nightshade-" "Whatever." She waves it away. "The point is, you claim he was trying to kill me, and yet instead of calling nine-one-one you just stroll on over to see for yourself? I mean, what's up with that? Obviously you didn't take it very seriously, so why should I?"
"I did try to call-but it was-complicated." I shake my head.
"It was a choice between-between something I really need-and you. And as you see, I chose you."
She looks at me, eyes wide, mind calculating, not saying a word.
"Roman promised to give me what I need if I just let you die.
But I couldn't do it-and so-" I gesture toward her. "Now you're immortal."
She shakes her head and gazes around, focusing on a group of neighborhood kids driving a jacked-up golf cart up and down the street. Keeping quiet for so long I'm just about to speak when she says, "Sorry you didn't get what you want, Ever, really I am. But you're wrong about Roman. There's no way he'd let me die. From what you said, he had the elixir standing by, ready to go in case you chose differently.
Besides, I think I know Roman just a little better than you, and the fact is, he knows how unhappy I've been, about the stuff going on with my family-" She shrugs. "He probably just wanted to make me immortal to spare me from that, but didn't want to sire me since there's a lot of responsibility that goes with it. I've no doubt that if you hadn't made me drink, he would've stepped in. Face it, Ever, you made the wrong choice. You should've just called his bluff."
"There's no sire," I mumble, inwardly rolling my eyes at myself. Out of that whole entire litany, that's what I choose to focus on? I shake my head and start over. "It's not like that-not even close-it's. ." Voice fading as she looks away, fully convinced of one thing-she's right and I'm wrong. And since I tried to warn her about all the dangers-about him-Damen can't possibly fault me for what I say next.
"Fine, believe what you want, just do me a favor. If you're going to insist on hanging with Roman, then all I ask is that you always wear your amulet. Seriously, don't ever take it off-not for anything-and-" She looks at me, brow raised, door half open, desperate to get out of this car and away from me.
"And if you're serious about repaying me for making you immortal-" Our eyes meet.
"Then Roman has something I really need you to get."
three
"How'd it go?"
Damen opens the door before I can knock. His gaze deep and intense as he follows me into the den where I drop onto his plush velour couch and kick off my flip-flops. Careful to avoid his eyes as he lands on the cushion beside me, usually all too eager to spend the rest of eternity just gazing at him-taking in the fine planes of his face-his high sculpted cheekbones, lush inviting lips, the slant of his brow, his dark wavy hair, and thick fringe of lashes-but not today.
Today I'd prefer to look just about anywhere else.
"So, you told her?" His fingers trail along the side of my cheek, the curve of my ear, his touch filling me with tingle and heat despite the ever-present energy veil that hovers between us. "Did the cupcake provide the distraction you hoped it would?" His lips nip at my lobe before working their way down my neck.
I lean back against the cushions
, closing my eyes in a feigned bout of fatigue. But the truth is, I don't want him to see me, to observe me too closely. Don't want him to sense my thoughts, my essence, my energy-that strange, foreign pulse that's been stirring inside me for the last several days.
"Hardly." I sigh. "She pretty much ignored it-guess she's like us now-in more ways than one." Feeling the weight of his gaze as he studies me intensely.
"Care to elaborate?"
I scrunch down even lower and toss my leg over his, my breath slowing as I settle into the warmth of his energy. "She's just-so far advanced. I mean, she has the whole look, you know? That eerie, flawless, immortal look. She even heard my thoughts-until I blocked them." I frown and shake my head.
"Eerie? Is that how you see it-see us?" Clearly distressed by my words.
"Well-not really eerie." I pause, wondering why I phrased it like that. "More like-not normal. I mean, I doubt even supermodels look that perfect all the time. Not to mention, what are we gonna do if she grows four inches practically overnight like I did? How do we possibly explain that?"
"Same way we did with you," he says, eyes narrowed, cautious, more interested in the words I'm not saying than the ones that I am. "We'll call it a growth spurt. They're not that uncommon among mortals, you know." His voice lifts in a weak attempt at levity that doesn't quite work.
I avert my gaze, taking in the crowded bookshelves filled with leather-bound first editions, the abstract oil paintings, most of them priceless originals, knowing he's onto me. He knows something's up, but I'm hoping he can't sense just how far it goes. That I'm just saying the words, going through the motions, not really invested in any of this.
"And so-does she hate you like you feared?" he asks, voice steady, deep, the slightest bit probing.
I peer at him, this wonderful glorious creature who's loved me for the last four hundred years and continues to do so no matter how many blunders I make, no matter how many lives I mess up. Sighing as I close my eyes and manifest a single red tulip that I promptly hand over. Serving not just as the symbol of our undying love, but also the winning wager in the bet that we made.
"You were right-you win." I shake my head, remembering how she reacted just like he said. "She's thrilled beyond belief. Can't thank me enough. Feels just like a rock star. No-scratch that, better than a rock star. She feels like a vampire rock star. But you know, the new and improved kind-without all that nasty bloodsucking and coffin sleeping." I shake my head and smile in spite of myself.
"A member of the mythical undead?" Damen cringes, not liking the analogy one bit. "I'm not sure how I feel about that."
"Oh, I'm sure it's just a side effect of her recent goth phase.
The thrill will die down eventually. You know, once the reality sinks in."
"Is that how it is for you?" he asks, finger just under my chin, making me look at him again. "Is the thrill dying down-or perhaps even-gone?" His gaze deep, knowing, attuned to every shift of my mood. "Is that why you find it so hard to look at me now?"
"No!" I shake my head, fully aware that I've been caught and desperate to refute it. "I'm just-tired. I've been feeling a little-on edge lately, that's all." I nuzzle closer, burying my face in the hollow of his neck, right next to where the cord for his amulet rests. That edgy prickly feeling I've been carrying for days, tempering, melting, as I inhale his warm musky scent over and over again. "Why can't every moment be like this?" I murmur, knowing what I really mean is: Why can't I always be like this-feel like this?
Why is everything changing?
"It can." He shrugs. "There's really no reason why it can't."
I pull away and meet his gaze. "Oh, I can think of at least two very good reasons."
Nodding toward Romy and Rayne, the twin terrors we're now responsible for as they bound down the stairs. Identical in their straight dark hair with razor-slashed bangs, pale skin, and large dark eyes-but complete opposites in their dress.
Romy wearing a pink terry cloth sundress with matching flipflops, while Rayne's barefoot and dressed in all black, with Luna, their tiny black kitten, riding high on her shoulder. The two of them shooting Damen a happy, warm smile and glaring at me-business as usual, and pretty much the only thing that hasn't changed around here.
"They'll come around," he says, wanting to believe it and wishing I would too.
"No they won't." I sigh, fumbling for my flip-flops. "But then, it's not like they don't have their reasons." I slip on my shoes and look at him.
"Leaving so soon?"
I nod, avoiding his gaze. "Sabine's making dinner, Munoz is coming over-it's a whole bonding thing. She wants us to get to know each other better. You know, less student teacher, more future nonblood relations." I shrug, realizing the instant it's out that I should've invited him. It's incredibly rude not to include him. But Damen's presence will only mess with my other evening plans. The ones he may suspect but can't possibly witness. Especially after making his feelings on my foray into magick so abundantly clear. Tacking on an awkward, "So-you know. ." and leaving it to hang there, dangling between us, since I've no idea where to take it from there.
"And Roman?"
I take a deep breath as my eyes meet his. The moment I've been avoiding is now here.
"Did you warn Haven? Tell her what he did?"
I nod. Recalling the speech I practiced in the car all the way over, about how Haven could be our best chance to get what we need from Roman. Hoping it'll sound better to his ears than it did mine.
"And?"
I clear my throat, allowing myself that, but nothing more.
He waits for me to continue, the patience of six hundred years stamped on his face, as I open my mouth to launch into my speech, but I can't. He knows me too well. So instead, I just lift my shoulders and sigh, knowing words are unnecessary, the answer's displayed in my gaze.
"I see." He nods, his tone smooth, even, without a trace of judgment, which kind of disappoints me. I mean, I'm judging me, so why isn't he?
"But-it's really not like you think," I say. "It's not like I didn't try to warn her, but she wouldn't listen. So I figured, what the heck. If she's going to insist on hanging with Roman, then what's the harm in her trying to snag the antidote while she's at it? And I know you think it's wrong, believe me, we've been over that, but I still don't think it's all that big a deal."
He looks at me, face calm, still, betraying nothing.
"Besides, it's not like we actually have any real proof that he would've let her die. I mean, he had the antidote all along, he knew what I'd choose. But even if I did prove him wrong, how do we know he wouldn't have given her the elixir himself?" I take a deep breath, hardly believing I'm borrowing Haven's argument, the same one I balked at just a few moments earlier. "And then-maybe he even would've tried to turn the whole thing around! You know, tell her we were prepared to let her die and end up turning her against us! Did you ever think of that?"
"No. I suppose I didn't," he says, lids narrowed, concern clouding his face.
"And it's not like I'm not gonna monitor the situation cuz I totally am. I'll make sure she's safe. But she does have free will, you know, it's not like we can choose her friends for her, so I figured, you know, when in Rome. . and all. . so to speak. ."
"And what about the romantic feelings Haven holds toward Roman? Did you consider that?"
I shrug, my words containing a conviction I don't really feel when I say, "She used to have feelings for you too if you'll remember. She seemed to get over that pretty quickly. And don't forget about Josh, the guy she was convinced was her soul mate who got booted over a kitten. And now that she's in a position to have pretty much whatever or whoever she wants-" I pause, but only for a moment, not long enough for him to interject. "I'm sure Roman will lose his allure and slide way down on her list. I mean, I know she can seem kind of fragile, but she's actually a lot tougher than you think."
I stand, signaling an end to this conversation. What's done is done and I don't want him to do or say anythi
ng that'll make me doubt my stance on Haven and Roman's relationship any more than I already do.
He hesitates, gaze moving over me, taking me in, then rises in one, quick, languid move as he grasps my hand and leads me to the door, where he presses his lips against mine.
Lingering, fusing, pushing, melding, the two of us drawing this kiss out for as long as we can, neither one willing to break away first.
I press hard against him, the contours of his body barely dimmed by that ever-present energy veil that hovers between us. The broad expanse of his chest, the valley of his torso-every inch of him conforming so tightly to me it's nearly impossible to tell where he ends and I begin. Wishing this kiss could do the impossible-banish my mistakes-this strange way I feel-chase away the dark angry cloud that follows me everywhere these days.
"I should go," I whisper, the first to break the spell, aware of the heat rising between us, that incendiary pull, a painful reminder that, for now anyway, this is as far as it goes.
And just as I've settled into my car and Damen's gone back inside, Rayne appears, Luna still perched on her shoulder, twin sister Romy at her side.
"Tonight's the night. Moon's moving into a new phase," she says, eyes narrowed, lips grim. No other words necessary, we all know what that means.
I nod and shift into reverse, ready to back down the drive, when she adds, "You know what to do, right? You remember our plan?"
I nod again, hating the fact that I'm in this position, knowing that as far as they're concerned, I'll never live this one down.
Backing out of the drive and onto the street, their thoughts chasing behind me, burrowing into my mind, as they think: It's wrong to use magick for selfish, nefarious reasons. There's karma to pay, and it'll come back times three.
four
The first thing I see when I pull into the drive is Munoz's silver Prius. Which, to be honest, pretty much makes me want to turn around and go just about anywhere else. But I don't. I just sigh and pull into the garage instead. Knowing I've no choice but to face it.