Night Star

by Alyson Noel

  The bell rings, the sound trilling loudly, but neither one of us moves.

  We just stand there together, allowing a scurry of students to move all around in a blur of color and sound. Our gazes locked, bodies still, his mind streaming tulips toward me until I’m surrounded by a glorious halo of them only we can see.

  The spell broken when someone bumps into me—hard—one of Haven’s minions who’s severely misjudged me. Tossing me a belligerent gaze and a few choice words to go with it, until she reads the look on Damen’s face and swiftly cowers away.

  “I understand.” I nod, watching as a wadded-up piece of paper bounces off the side of Stacia’s head as she ducks into class. My gaze shifting from her to him when I add, “Really, I get it. It’s good of you. Kind of you. It’s the right thing to do. So don’t worry about me, you just continue to protect her, and I’ll…” I search the hall, watching it empty as everyone races to beat the tardy bell. “And I’ll do what I can to keep it from getting any worse—to keep Haven under control.”

  “And us? Is there any hope for us?” he asks.

  But I leave the words behind.

  His thoughts drifting from behind me, around me, curling up inside me, as I turn and make my way down the hall.

  Reminding me that he’s here.

  Will always be here.

  All I have to do is let him in.

  twenty-one

  I figured she’d try to avoid me ’til lunch.

  Figured she’d want to hold off on any sort of confrontation until she had her groupies all gathered around her and she could show me the full brunt of the big, bad thing she’s achieved.

  Figured she mistook my weeklong absence, my wanting to get my head straight about Damen, for fear.

  Fear of her and all she’s accomplished.

  Which is exactly why I made sure to run into her well before that.

  Appearing by her side without warning, I slide up alongside her, tap her on the shoulder, and stare straight into her heavily made-up, slightly startled eyes, saying, “Hey, Haven.” I keep my expression benign, if not outright friendly. Wanting her to know that I’m back, that it’s time for her to rein it in, but not wanting to challenge her directly, since nothing good will come of that. “Just thought you should know that your car has been moved. I needed the space.”

  She looks at me, mouth curling up at one side, obviously far more amused than mad, ridiculously delighted to know the game is still on.

  “But then again, that shouldn’t really surprise you, since you know that’s not your space. It belongs to Damen and me. Has for almost a year now.”

  She laughs, a short burst of sound that ends almost as soon as it begins. Slipping out of her shorts and T-shirt, she tosses them into her locker in exchange for the navy-blue dress she starts to yank over her head. “Yeah, well, you weren’t here and Damen didn’t seem to mind all that much. But then again, from what I’ve seen, he’s been a little preoccupied lately.”

  She pulls the dress down, her eyes meeting mine as her face emerges from the swath of fabric, then she shimmies from side to side, getting herself all situated. Taking a moment to eyeball me, her derisive gaze raking from my head to my toes before venturing back up again, searching for a reaction that just doesn’t come.

  Her comment glides past me, doesn’t affect me in the least. Damen and I have come to an understanding, and this confrontation with her, well, it’s everything I’ve trained myself for.

  “I thought you hated P.E.” I drop onto the scarred wood bench, cross my legs, and clasp my hands on my knee. Gazing around the girls’ locker room, a place she’s made a point to avoid after a particularly brutal hazing incident she was forced to suffer at the beginning of freshman year.

  “Well, it’s true that I used to.” She shrugs, readjusting the jumble of necklaces she now favors in place of the amulet I gave her. Her eyes blazing, face radiant when she looks at me and says, “But then, as you well know, things change, Ever. Or, more specifically, I’ve changed. And because of it, I’ve finally come to realize something I could’ve only guessed at before.” She pauses for a moment to slip on her shoes, wrapping the ties around her ankles, once, twice, before tying them in a knot that reaches halfway up her tiny, well-muscled calves. “Once you’ve made it to the top of the pyramid, once you’re beautiful, powerful, and graced with both strength and speed, well, there’s really no reason to dislike anything. Except for maybe those pathetically jealous losers who are determined to bring you down. But, seriously, other than that, it’s all good. You can’t even imagine what it feels like to be me right now.” She fluffs her hair, smoothing her hands over the front and sides of her dress, gazing at herself admiringly in the mirror across the way, as she makes sure everything is perfectly in place.

  Stealing a moment away from her reflection to reflect upon me, sighing deeply, loudly, her gaze full of pity when she says, “I meant that literally by the way. You seriously cannot imagine what it’s like to be me. What it’s like to be on top of the world—at the top of your game.” She smirks, reaching into her locker, toward the top shelf, where she’s stashed all her rings. “I mean, let’s face it, not to be cruel or anything, but you’ve pretty much been a big loser your whole, entire life, and even now, when, technically speaking anyway, you can have anything or anyone you choose—you still choose to be a big dork.” She shakes her head and stacks her rings on her fingers, a task that takes longer than you’d think due to the sheer number of them. “I mean, if it wasn’t so funny, it would be sad. But still, I have to admit, there’s still a small part of me that pities you.”

  “And the other part?” I look at her, watching as she arranges her hair, getting it settled and smoothed around her shoulders and face.

  She laughs. Satisfied with her hair, she pilfers through her bag for some lip gloss before casting a quick glance my way. “Why, the other part is going to kill you. But then, you already knew that.”

  I nod, so casually you’d think she’d just made some harmless, throwaway comment rather than an actual threat on my life.

  “I mean, don’t get me wrong, originally I’d planned to kill Jude first, you know, hurt him real bad while making you watch—that sort of thing. But then, once I really thought about it, I realized it would be so much more fun to switch it around and do away with you first. You know, leave him totally defenseless and alone, with no one able, much less willing to save him. I mean, surely Damen won’t be volunteering for that. And not just because he’s so busy protecting Stacia, but because, well, let’s face it, as good and noble as he likes to think he is, I doubt even he’ll be all that sad to see him go, considering everything that’s gone down recently.” She shrugs, running the wand over her lips, once, twice, before rubbing them together, making a kissing face at the mirror, then grinning as she drops the gloss back into her bag. “I don’t know, just an idea. What do you think?”

  “What do I think?” I lift my brow and tilt my head, allowing my hair to spill down the front of my dress.

  She looks at me, waiting.

  “I think—bring it on.”

  She breaks into laughter, deep, belly-clutching laughter. Struggling to catch her breath as she smooths her hair again, tosses her bag over her shoulder, and continues to check herself out in the mirror, tilting her head from side to side and clearly admiring the view when she says, “You couldn’t possibly be serious. You actually want to start this, here? Now?” She looks at me, face full of doubt.

  “Seems as good a time and place as any.” I shrug. “I mean, why delay the inevitable, right?”

  She holds my gaze as I rise from the bench, standing before her without a trace of fear, completely assured of my surplus of strength. Taking a moment to remind myself of the promise I made—that it’s up to her to make the first move. I don’t bait her, don’t do anything more than stand there and wait. The consequences are far too serious, far too permanent, for a reckless move like that. My only goal is to teach her a lesson, knock her d
own a notch or two. Show her that I’m stronger than she thinks, that it’s time for her to pull back, to retreat. Hoping it’ll prompt her to rethink all of this, to realize her big, bad plan is not such a wise move.

  She shakes her head, rolls her eyes, mumbles something indecipherable under her breath, and tries to push past me, dismissing the whole thing with a wave of her hand. “Trust me. It’ll happen, when it happens.” She glances over her shoulder and narrows her gaze. “All you need to know is that you will not control it, you will not determine it, and you will not see it coming. Makes it way more fun that way, don’t ya think?”

  But just as she reaches the door, sure she’s in the clear, I appear right before her, barring her exit. “Listen, Haven, you so much as lay a finger on Miles, Jude, or anyone else, and so help me you will not like what happens to you…”

  Her lip curls, while her eyes go dark, darker than I’ve ever seen them before. “And what if I go after Stacia?” She smiles, though it’s more like a leer. “What’re you gonna do about that? You gonna risk your life—your very soul—to protect her too?” Pausing long enough to allow the words to penetrate, before slapping her hand over her mouth in a feigned bout of shame. “Oh, never mind. I totally forgot she has Damen for that now. My bad.” She smirks and shoves past me, pushes right through the door.

  Leaving me there on my own, knowing the victory may have been small, but having no doubt I succeeded in getting my message across.

  The next move is hers.

  twenty-two

  It’s hard to get used to this new lunchtime routine—with Haven holding court at table A, while Miles and I sit at our usual table C. Both of us pretending not to look anywhere near table D, where Damen sits beside Stacia, even though we’re both pretty much blatantly gaping at it.

  Though as hard as it is to watch, Damen and I have come to a new understanding—one where we accept our respective responsibilities in the present, while I take some time to try and accept the sins of his past. Still, I know inside that it’s worth it. Worth the pain of seeing him like that—the way he gazes at me, the way he keeps watch over her—worth it because as long as I’m here, as long as Damen is there, Haven is contained.

  Out of control but contained.

  And no one gets hurt.

  I twist the cap off of my elixir and take a deep swig. My eyes darting around the area, seeing Honor work overtime to maintain her place beside Haven—working harder than she ever had to work with Stacia, while Craig and some of his friends seem clearly relieved to have gotten off easy—reduced to sitting at a lesser table, but still, it could be worse. If it wasn’t for his connection to Honor, and the fact that she still has feelings for him, I’ve no doubt he’d be as bad off as Stacia.

  “It’s like we’ve landed in upside-down bizarro world,” Miles says, between slurps of vanilla yogurt, eyes tracking the area as anxiously as mine. “I mean, everything’s backward, everything I thought I knew about this school, the good, the bad, and the completely hideous, is now totally different, and it’s all because of her.” He nods toward our former friend, watching her for a moment before turning to me. “Is this what it was like for you when Roman took over?”

  I turn, wide-eyed, caught completely off guard. We never really talk about that time, back when Roman hypnotized everyone and turned them all against me. Those were some of the darkest days of my life—or at least this life anyway.

  Still, I just nod and say, “Yeah, it was pretty similar.” My gaze drifting toward Damen, remembering how he sat with Stacia then too. “Very similar, in fact.”

  I play with the cap on my elixir, twisting it on and off, off and on, as my mind revisits the past. Choosing the more hurtful scenes to play over and over again, before reminding myself that I got through that time just as I’ll get through this time. As Ava always says: And this too shall pass.

  Though she’s also quick to remind me that the phrase works both ways. That it’s true for the good times as well as the bad.

  Everything passes. Everything experiences the birth and death cycle. Unless, of course, you’re like Damen and me, in which case you get stuck in the same eternal dance.

  I shake the thought away, and finish my elixir. Tossing the empty bottle back into the bag I hike onto my shoulder as Miles gazes up from stirring his yogurt and says, “Going somewhere?”

  I nod, and one look at his face tells me he does not approve.

  “Ever—” he starts, but I stop him right there. I know what he’s thinking—that I’m leaving because it hurts too much to see Damen with Stacia, having no idea of the deal Damen and I made.

  “I just thought of something, something I need to take care of while I still have the chance,” I mumble, knowing I haven’t convinced him as I watch Haven parade around table A, laughing and flirting, clearly enjoying her new role as queen bee.

  “Cryptic much?” Miles narrows his gaze.

  But I just shrug, eager to get moving, not wanting Haven to see me leave and, gawd forbid, decide to follow me.

  “Well, can I at least come?” He looks at me, spoon dangling in midair.

  I shake my head, gaze still on Haven when I say, “No.” Not even pausing long enough to consider it, which doesn’t go over so well.

  “And why not?” His voice rises as his face drops into a frown.

  “Because you have class.” The sound of my own voice making me wince, I sounded way more like a teacher than a friend.

  “And you don’t?”

  I sigh, shaking my head as I look at him. That’s different. I’m different. And now that he’s aware of it, I shouldn’t have to explain it.

  Still, he’s not about to give up, he just continues to gaze at me with those big brown eyes, holding the look for so long I finally give in and say, “Listen, I know you think you want to come, but trust me, you so don’t. You really, really don’t. And it’s not that I don’t want you with me, or that I’m trying to ditch you or anything like that, it’s just that, well, what I’m planning to do, it’s not exactly considered legal. So really, I’m only trying to protect you.”

  He looks at me, spooning a glob of yogurt into his mouth, not the least bit swayed by the case I just pled. Covering his face with his hand as he looks at me and says, “Protect me from who—you?”

  I sigh, fighting to keep a straight face, though it’s kind of hard when he looks at me like that. His brow rising in suspicion, the flat-edged tip of his spoon bobbing up and down in his mouth. “Protect you from the law,” I finally say, cringing at how dramatic that sounds, even though it’s true.

  “O—kay…” He drags out the word, eyes squinted as though seriously considering it. “And just what brand of illegal are we talking here?” He looks me over, clearly having no intention of letting it go ’til he’s uncovered every last detail. “Larceny, bribery, usury, or some other illegal act that ends with a y?”

  I sigh again, longer and louder this time, but still, in the end I just shrug and say, “Fine, if you must know, I’ve got a little harmless B and E I need to take care of, okay?”

  “Breaking and entering?” He tries not to gape but doesn’t really succeed. “But of the harmless variety?”

  I nod. And shrug. And make a big point of rolling my eyes. Clock’s ticking, lunch is shrinking, bell’s gonna ring, and if it wasn’t for this, I’d be long gone by now.

  Seeing him lick his spoon clean, toss it into the trash, and rise from his seat as he says, “Well then, count me in.” I start to protest, but he’ll have none of it. He just flashes his palm and adds, “And don’t even try to stop me. I’m coming, whether you like it or not.”

  I hesitate, hating the idea of involving him in this but also thinking it might be nice to have a little company for a change. I’m tired of playing the solo act.

  I squint, looking him over as though I’m still weighing my options, even though I’ve already decided in favor of it. Shooting a quick glance at Haven, making sure she’s still occupied, still engrossed in her own
little world on Planet Haven, before I say, “Fine. But just act normal, okay? Act like you’re just casually getting your stuff together because you know the bell’s gonna ring in exactly two and a half seconds and you want to get to class on time and then—”

  The bell rings, interrupting my speech as Miles gapes at me and says, “How did you—?”

  But I just shake my head and motion for him to follow, warning him not to look anywhere near Haven’s table, as I steal a quick glance at Damen’s.

  “And just remember, whatever happens, you asked for it,” I add, as we make our way through the gate.

  Aware of Damen’s heavy wondering, questioning gaze—having no idea that what I’m about to do, well, if I’m successful anyway, could change our lives forever.

  For better.

  And if not, if I don’t get what I’m looking for, well, maybe that alone will provide the answer I seek.

  “Now, this is what I’m talkin’ ‘bout.” Miles grins, face practically glowing with excitement. “This is what senior year is supposed to be like. You know, ditching classes, playing hooky, having fun, indulging in a little illegal activity—”

  I peer at him, making sure he’s all settled in before I punch the gas hard. There’s no need for pretense, he knows exactly what I am, what I’m capable of. And after a few moments of white-knuckle-gripping silence from him, we’re there.

  Or at least, almost there, since I make a point to park halfway down the street, just like I did the last time I was here, figuring it’s safer, if not smarter, to walk the rest of the way. No need to park on the drive and announce my arrival.

  “Last chance to back out.” I glance at my friend, white faced and panting beside me, struggling to get his equilibrium back.