by Alyson Noel
But Jude just leans forward, sliding his elbows across his desk, pushing his dreadlocks off his face as he adds, “Really, what’s that like?”
Damen nods, making some kind of sound between a grunt and a laugh, instantly relaxing as the tension drains from his face and he settles farther back in his seat. Propping his foot on his knee, snapping the bottom of his flip-flop back and forth against his heel, he shrugs and says, “Well, I guess you could say it’s been—” He pauses, searching for just the right word. “Long.” He laughs, eyes creasing at the sides. “It’s been…really, really long, in fact.”
Jude looks at him, nodding in a way that shows he wants to hear more, and Damen obliges, picking at the frayed and broken hem on his faded old jeans, when he adds, “And, to be honest, well, sometimes it’s a little exhausting. And sometimes it feels more than a little defeating—especially when you’re forced to watch the same old tired mistakes being made over and over again with the same lousy excuses to support them.” He shakes his head, lost in a stream of memories most people only learn about through history books. His expression instantly transforming, brightening, when he smiles and says, “And those are just the mistakes I’ve made.” He meets Jude’s gaze. “But then, there are also moments of such extreme beauty and joy that, well, it really does make it all seem worthwhile, you know?”
Jude nods, more in contemplation than agreement, as though he’s still taking it in, considering the statement.
Though it’s enough to prompt Damen to say, “Why, you interested? You want to give it a go?”
Jude and I both look at him, eyes wide, unable to tell if he’s serious.
“Because I can set you up. I know a guy…”
And it’s not until his lips curl into a grin, that I realize he’s joking, and I settle back with relief.
“But the thing is,” Damen says, back to being serious again. “In the end, it’s pretty much all the same. I may live for centuries, you may live for three quarters of a century, but both of us will always find ourselves preoccupied with whatever’s immediately before us—or, more often than not, whatever seems just out of reach…”
We sit there in silence, the words hanging heavy between us, as I gaze down at my knees, too uncomfortable to look anywhere else. Knowing that this is the moment we came for, that Damen’s fully prepared to offer whatever explanation or apology Jude might demand.
But Jude just sits there, picking at a stray paper clip he found on his desk, twisting, and bending, and totally reshaping it until it’s completely unrecognizable from its original form.
Finally looking up when he says, “I get it.” He glances between us, focusing on me until I lift my head and meet his gaze. “Really, I do.” His face so sincere I’ve no doubt he means it. “But if you came here to apologize or try to make up for it or—whatever—you should probably forget it.”
I suck in my breath, as Damen sits perfectly still, waiting for him to continue.
“I mean, I’m not gonna lie, the whole thing sucks for me.” He tries to laugh but doesn’t quite make it. His heart isn’t in it. “But still, I really do get it. I know it wasn’t just a matter of playing fair or not playing fair. I know it wasn’t just about your immense wealth and magick tricks. And I also know it was probably extremely unfair of me to pretend that it was. Because the thing is, Ever isn’t that shallow. Neither was Evaline or any of the rest of them.” His eyes meet mine, and they’re filled with such warmth and kindness and love, it’s impossible to look away. “The only reason I never stood a chance with her is because it was never meant to be me. It was always supposed to be the two of you.”
I exhale slowly, my shoulders sinking, stomach settling, releasing a tension I wasn’t even aware I was holding ’til now.
“And the fire—” Damen starts, desperate to explain that as well.
But Jude dismisses it just as quickly, waving his hand before us. “I know about that too—thanks to Summerland and the Great Halls of Learning.” He shrugs. “I’ve been spending a lot of time there lately, maybe too much time, or at least that’s been Ava’s concern. But, sometimes, well, sometimes, or at least lately anyway, I’d rather be there than here. I guess that’s why I’m so fascinated by your extra long life. I mean, I don’t know how you do it when there are definitely times when the regular life span feels like more than enough, you know?”
Damen nods. Telling Jude he most certainly does know, knows all too well. Then he launches into the story about his first trip to Summerland, back when he was lost, and lonely and looking for some sort of deeper meaning, and found himself studying in India alongside the Beatles. And having already heard it myself, like a thousand times before, I quietly get up, let myself out, and head back into the store, curious to see what Ava’s been up to.
Finding her off in the corner, restocking a shelf full of crystals when she turns to me and says, “All’s well that ends well, right?”
I shrug, having no idea what she’s referring to.
“Your choice.” She smiles, turning back toward the shelf. “It must feel good to have that all figured out, no?”
I sigh. Because while there’s no doubt that it definitely does feel good to put it behind me, the thing with problems is, there’s never any shortage in the supply. As soon as one gets solved, another crops up in its place.
She digs her hand into a bag of rose quartz crystals, the crystal of love, balancing a generous pile of chunks in her palm when she glances at me and says, “But…” Purposely dragging the word out for as long as she can.
“But…” I shrug, hand darting forward, catching a falling stone and handing it back to her. “There’s still Haven, who’s getting more and more out of control, and then, of course, there’s still the antidote, and the fact that Damen and I can’t really, truly touch…” Not outside of the pavilion anyway, but I’m not about to let her in on that. “And then there’s—”
She looks at me, brow raised, patiently waiting, as I quickly weigh whether or not I should confide in her about the dark side of Summerland I’ve discovered, and the strange, seemingly demented old lady Damen and I ran across.
But something keeps me from doing so. Something tells me not to go there with her. Or at least not yet anyway. Not until we’ve had a chance to investigate a little further.
So I take a deep breath, lift an amethyst cluster off the shelf and carefully inspect it from all sides, as I say, “Well, you know, that whole drama with Sabine is still alive and well.” Shaking my head as I return the stone to its place, knowing that while it wasn’t exactly a lie, it wasn’t quite the truth either. It’s not bothering me nearly as much as it used to. Sadly, I’m getting used to living like that.
“Would you like me to speak to her?” she offers, but I quickly dismiss it.
“Trust me, it won’t work. Her mind is made up, and I have a feeling time may be the only cure.”
She nods, wiping her hands on the front of her jeans as she stands back to inspect the shelf. Head tilted, mouth twisted to the side, as she switches the apache’s tear with the phantom quartz, then smiles approvingly.
And when I look at her, I mean really look at her, I can’t help but wonder why she’s always alone. I mean, she has the twins to look after, so I guess she’s not really alone-alone, but still, ever since I met her, she’s been decidedly single, and from what I can tell, she hasn’t gone out on even one date.
And before I can stop it, I say, “Do you think everyone has a soul mate?”
She turns, regarding me seriously.
“I mean, do you think everyone has that one person they’re destined to be with—like Damen and me?”
She’s silent for a moment, as though she’s really taking the time to consider. And just when I’m sure she’s not going to answer, she does something I definitely wasn’t expecting—she bursts out in laughter.
Her whole face lifting, her eyes glinting, when she looks at me and says, “Why? Who are you worried about more here, Ever, me or Jude?”
&nbs
p; I flush. I hadn’t realized I was that obvious, but knowing that she’s a pretty gifted psychic and all, I should’ve figured she’d see through me.
“Well, both.” I smile feebly.
Watching as she turns back to her work, folding up the now empty bags, and piling them on top of each other before folding the stack in half and stashing them inside a bigger bag. Her voice soft, just barely audible, when she says, “Well, for the record, yes, I do believe that. But whether or not you’re able to recognize them and do something about it is a whole other story.”
thirty-two
“So, how’d it go?” I glance at Damen, watching as he settles into the passenger seat and closes his door as I pull away from the curb.
“Good.” He nods, shutting his eyes for a moment as he lowers the top with his mind, taking a long deep breath of cool evening air before he looks at me and says, “We’re going surfing this weekend.”
I gape, more than a little surprised to hear that. I mean, I originally thought he’d be lucky to get the cease-fire he was after, I never even considered they might become friends.
“So, is this, like, a date?” I tease, wondering how long it’s been since Damen’s been able to have a friend—a real and true guy-type friend—one who actually knows the truth about him.
“Never.” He glances at me. “I’ve never had a friend who knew the truth about me. And, to be honest, it’s been a very, very long time since I even tried to connect in that way.” He averts his gaze, taking in the shops, the trees, the pedestrians crowding the crosswalks and streets, before he turns back and says, “Friendships for me were always short-lived since I had no choice but to move on after a certain number of years. People get suspicious when you stay exactly the same while they age, and after a while, well, it just seems easier to avoid those types of things.”
I swallow hard and concentrate on the drive. Even though it’s not the first time he’s said it, it doesn’t make it any easier to hear. Especially when I relate it to me and my life and the long list of good-byes I have to look forward to.
“Do you mind taking me home?” he asks, the request jolting me right out of my thoughts as I gape at him in surprise. I was sure he’d try to drag me off to the pavilion again, and to be honest I had no plans to deny him.
“Miles is meeting me back at the house. I told him I’d help him run some lines for a play he’s auditioning for.”
I shake my head and laugh, making a right on Coast Highway before stealing a quick peek at him. “Got any time in there for me, you know, amongst all of these playdates of yours?” Only partially teasing as I press the accelerator and cruise along the winding curves.
“Always.” He smiles, leaning in to kiss me but ending up distracting me so badly I nearly run the car off the road.
I push him away and right the wheel again. Gazing out at the ocean, watching the waves turn to foaming white froth as they crash against the shore, and clearing my throat as I turn to him and say, “Damen, what are we gonna do about the antidote?” Seeing the way his shoulders stiffen, feeling the way his energy shifts and changes but still forging ahead, knowing it has to be said. “I mean, I’m fully committed to you, to us, I think you know that by now. And as much as I enjoy our time in the pavilion, well—” I swallow hard, I’ve never been much good at discussing this kind of thing, I always end up a red-faced, embarrassed, sputtering mess, but still, I’m determined to get to it. “I miss you. I miss being able to touch you in this life. Not to mention I was hoping that someday we could break this four-hundred-year-old-dry spell and—”
I pause before his gate, waving at Sheila, who motions us in. Taking the hill and the series of turns that lead to his street, before braking in his driveway and swiveling in my seat until I’m fully facing him.
Just about to finish the thought when he says, “Ever, I know. Believe me, I do.” He reaches for me, cups his hand to the side of my face, as his eyes fix on mine. “And I haven’t given up. I’ve even gone so far as to turn the wine cellar into a sort of chemistry lab—and I’ve spent every spare moment in there hoping to surprise you.”
My eyes go wide, trying to calculate just how long it’s been since I last poked around Damen’s house, realizing it’s been a while. When I haven’t been avoiding him for one reason or another, we’ve been either training or making out in the pavilion.
“But if the wine cellar is a chem lab, then where do you store the elixir?” I ask, frowning as I try to picture it for myself.
“In the new wine cellar, where the laundry room used to be.”
“And the laundry room?”
“Gone.” He laughs. “But then, I never really saw the point of it anyway, when I can just manifest new, clean stuff whenever I need it.” But his smile soon fades when he says, “But, Ever, I don’t want to get your hopes up, because while I haven’t given up trying, well, so far at least, it’s been pretty slow going. I have no idea what Roman put in that drink, but everything I’ve tried up to this point has failed.”
I sigh, pushing my cheek hard against his palm, aware of the almost feel of his skin upon mine. Telling myself it’s enough, that it will always be enough, but even though I’m fully committed to that, I still can’t help wishing for more.
“We have to get that shirt.” My gaze meets his. “We have to find it. I know she still has it. There’s no way she’d get rid of it. She’s either keeping it for sentimental reasons or because she knows what it’s worth to me, or both. But, either way, it’s pretty much our only hope at this point.”
He looks at me in the exact same way he did the last time we discussed it—in full agreement that it is indeed important but completely unwilling to pin all of his hopes upon it.
“Surely it’s not our only hope?” he says.
But I shake my head. I’m not patient like him. I don’t want to spend the next several years enjoying brief respites in the various guises of my former self, just so we can enjoy a chaste smooch now and then, while he fiddles around in his former wine-cellar-turned-chem-lab on the side. I want to enjoy this life. The one I’m in now.
I want to enjoy it as fully and normally as any other girl would.
And I want to enjoy it with him.
“I can’t talk you out of this, can I?” he says, his voice as resigned as his sigh.
I shake my head again.
“Then I’m going with you.”
“Going where? I haven’t admitted to going anywhere.”
“Aw, maybe not, but a plan is surely forming, I can see it in your eyes. So you better make room for one more, because I’m coming with.”
“No, you hang with Miles, I’ll be fine. Really.”
But despite my protest, he’s already grabbing his phone, already texting Miles and telling him he’s got an errand to run so he’ll be a little late.
“So, where should we start?” he asks, pocketing his cell.
“The store.” I nod, having just confirmed it for myself. “But really, you don’t have to come, I’ll be fine on my own,” I add, giving him one last chance to back out.
“Forget it.” He buckles his seat belt again. “I’m coming along whether you like it or not. And just so you know, all this refusal, well, it’s really starting to give me a complex.”
I look at him, having no idea what that meant.
“Last time? When you broke into Haven’s house and chose to drag Miles along instead of me?”
I look at him, thinking I hardly dragged Miles, not to mention that I really didn’t have a chance to invite him since he was guarding Stacia. But then again, that’s not really the point. What I really want to know is how he happened to know about that when I hadn’t quite gotten around to filling him in on all of those details just yet.
“Miles mentioned it,” he says, answering the thought in my head.
I glance out the window, my eyes narrowed as I say, “Is this what it’s going to be like now that you’re Mr. Popular with all your new friends?” I turn toward him. “You�
��re gonna spend all your free time coaxing them to spill my secrets?”
“Only the good stuff.” Damen smiles, pressing his lips briefly to mine as I back out of his drive and make my way toward the gate. “Only the stuff I really need to know.”
thirty-three
We drive past Roman’s old store, Renaissance!, even though I have no plans to go inside since it’s too early for that. The last thing I need is another confrontation with Haven or any of the other immortals that work in the place. Yet I still slow as I near it, quickly calculating just how long it’s been since the last time I was there, and more than a little curious to see what’s become of it now that Roman’s no longer around.
But even though I expected to find some kind of change, I never expected to find it boarded up the way it is. The windows empty, the once elaborate displays dismantled and gone, with a door that’s not just locked but also bearing a sign that reads: closed! With the additional, hand-scrawled scribble of: For Good! Just underneath.
“I know I shouldn’t be surprised, but still, I didn’t see that coming,” Damen says, his voice soft and low, his eyes fixed on the sign. “I thought for sure Haven would’ve taken it over, or even Marco, or Misa, or Rafe.”
I nod in agreement, ditch the car by the curb, as the two of us scramble out, crossing the street until we’re standing before it. Peering through the window at some of the bigger pieces of furniture—the couches, tables, and display cases—that, for whatever reason, were left behind. Seeing that, for the most part anyway, with a few exceptions here and there, all of the smaller items like clothes and jewelry and such are all gone.
And I can’t help but wonder just whose decision this was, just who decided to shutter it for good. Not to mention just who Roman might’ve possibly left control of it to.
Being immortal and all, I somehow doubt he ever thought to make a will.
I take a quick look around, making sure no one’s paying any attention to us, before I close my eyes and open the door with my mind. Forgoing my original plan to wait until dark, figuring with the way things are going, this place could be empty by then, so it’s best to just strike while we can.