And that’s when I see it.
That’s when I see the brand-new sparkling engagement ring she wears on her left ring finger.
“Family’s the only thing that ever meant anything to me,” she says, pul ing me back into their circle. “And now that you’ve returned, I have everything. I have al that I need.”
thirty-seven
I had every intention of heading to Damen’s.
I had every intention of saying good night to Sabine and Munoz and heading right over there.
Only it didn’t quite go as planned.
Sabine and I stayed up late. Like, way late. Like, wel past the time Munoz bid us good night and headed back to his place.
The two of us hanging on the couch until the wee hours of the morning, picking at a box of leftover pizza (yes, I had a piece, or two, and I could hardly believe what I’d been missing al this time!), while getting ourselves al caught up on each other’s news—and the next thing I knew there were only a few hours left until I had to be at school.
According to Munoz, I absolutely, positively, had no choice whatsoever but to show up at school and either work some serious manifesting magick in the administrator’s office, or put in a superhuman effort at making up al that I missed, or both, if I had any hopes at al of graduating with my class.
So, instead of going to Damen’s, I chose to grab a few hours of much-needed sleep in my old room, wanting to be ful y rested and recharged when I dropped by his house, since I didn’t know how he’d react upon seeing me again, fruit at the ready. But I knew I’d need to bring my A-game.
The second I spy his black BMW in the student lot, I realize I won’t have to wait al that long. Apparently he’s stil showing up every day, attending his classes, going through the much-dreaded motions, even though, for the life of me, I can’t imagine why.
“Because I made you a promise,” he says, answering the question in my mind when he appears by my side. Holding my door open, waiting for me to climb out and join him, but for the moment anyway, I remain frozen in place.
My eyes travel over him, savoring the look of him, the feel of his presence next to mine, while the deep, aching pang in my gut reminds me of just how much I’ve missed being with him.
Despite the thril of my recent accomplishments—despite the triumph of seizing my destiny—without Damen by my side, it al dims—
it al feels so hol ow and empty.
“I searched for you.” His eyes pore over me, thirsty, drinking me in—tel ing me he missed me as much as I missed him. “Searched al over Summerland. And though I was unable to find you, I could stil sense you. That’s how I knew you were okay. Far away—in a place I couldn’t fathom—but stil okay. And it’s that comfort that kept me going, waiting for the day when you’d find your way back to me.”
I swal ow hard, swal ow past the huge lump that’s now lodged in my throat. Knowing I should say something, anything, but I can’t.
Staring at him is pretty much al that I’m capable of.
“So, when’d you get back?” His gaze remains steady, and though he strives to maintain a calm, casual vibe, I’m afraid the way I react is pretty much the opposite.
His question sets me in motion—horrible, nervous-making motion. Grabbing my bag, fooling with my hair, scratching my arm, and shifting in my seat until I final y maneuver past the offer of his hand and haul myself out of my car. My eyes darting crazily, searching for a safe place to land, which ends up being pretty much anywhere and everywhere but him.
My breath coming ragged, too fast, when I say, “Yesterday.” A truth so horrible I can’t help but cringe.
Knowing exactly how he chooses to interpret it—the only way it can be interpreted. And as much as I’d love to deny it, I can’t. There’s just no getting around the fact that I’ve been back from my journey for an entire day and yet I never found the time to see him until he just now approached me.
No way to get around the fact that I put other people before him.
A whole host of other people, including Jude.
Damen stands by my car, careful y weighing that one single word until it becomes permanent, irreversible, like an accidental footprint left in a square of fresh cement I make no attempt to smooth over, no attempt to erase its permanent imprint.
And even though I know I need to say something, I have no idea what that something might be.
He looks at me, clearly torn between feeling even more hurt and even more confused, and settling on somewhere in the middle.
“I was afraid to see you,” I tel him. “Mostly because I don’t want to fight with you again. I can’t bear to fight with you again. And yet, I think we both know that’s exactly where this is headed. But before we get there, I need you to know that just because I delayed this moment doesn’t mean I didn’t miss you—” My voice cracks, becoming so choked up I’m forced to clear my throat a few times before I continue. “Please, don’t ever think I didn’t miss you.” My gaze grows watery, bleary, pleading with his.
But instead of admitting he missed me too, instead of moving to comfort me like I’d hoped, he says, “Why is it you think an argument is so inevitable?”
His dark eyes graze over me, widening in shocked disbelief when I reach into my bag, find the package Honor gave me, and hand it over to him, saying, “Because of this.”
He studies the smal , plain-wrapped parcel, examining it as he flips it back and forth in his hands.
“It’s the herb.” I look at him. “It’s the hard-to-find, special-order, rare herb that you need to finish your antidote. The antidote that wil al ow us to be together in the way that we want, so we can continue our lives as immortals.”
His fingers curl, causing the paper to crinkle in protest, his gaze lighting on mine, the weight of it causing me to suck in a lungful of air.
The first bel ringing, the sound of it sending al of our classmates into a flurry as they race toward the building, while Damen and I stay rooted in place. As much as I need to get to class and start making up for al the damage my extended absence has done, we need to finish this first. We need to reach some sort of conclusion, before I can go anywhere, do anything else.
“But I stil cling to my belief that this life is cosmical y wrong. And even if we take the antidote, something else wil crop up to keep us apart. The only true way to achieve our destiny—to be together forever—is to reverse our immortality. To eat the fruit.” I gaze down at our feet, gaze at the dark shine of his car, gaze toward the soon-to-be-locked gate, hearing the final bel ring just as I gaze into his eyes.
“Damen, I have the means to do that now. I found the tree. It’s real.”
He doesn’t react, doesn’t move, doesn’t flinch.
“I journeyed there. Saw it for myself. I scaled its enormous trunk, swung from its mile-long branches—” I pause, wanting to ensure I have his ful attention before I continue, “I picked its fruit.”
My gaze stays on his, but stil nothing. No indication he’s heard.
“That’s why I was away for so long. It was a long, arduous, treacherous, lonely, scary, and yet completely wondrous journey. I passed through a rush of seasons to get there, made it through a winter so brutal I was sure I’d turn into a frozen-solid mass, got so rained on I was sure I’d never dry, and yet, even though I wasn’t always convinced I would make it, I did make it. I succeeded in what I set out to do.
And now I’m here to say that it’s not a myth like you think. In fact, it’s even better than the myth. Remember when Lotus said the tree was evergiving? She was right. The tree just keeps giving and giving and giving. There’s no truth to the one-fruit-every-thousand-years rumor. From what I experienced there are no shortages of any kind. There is only abundance. The Tree of Life is the very definition of abundance. And I brought back an entire bag ful of its fruit with which to prove it.”
“You brought it back?” His face takes on an expression that’s impossible to read. “Why would you do that? Why wouldn’t you just hand it over
to Lotus and let her handle it?”
“Because I’m taking over for Roman,” I say, nodding as I confirm it for myself. And now that I’ve said it, an entire plan begins to form in my head.
But Damen just looks at me, not comprehending.
“The party he throws every century and a half?” I suppress a smile, but I can’t seem to suppress my rising excitement. “This time I’m going to host it. I’m going to gather al of the immortals he’s made, and give them a choice between physical immortality—or real immortality.”
“And if they refuse you?” he asks, clearly convinced that they wil since he pretty much has.
“Then they refuse me.” I shrug. “Though after I explain it to them, after they see the effects, I don’t think they wil .”
Damen’s eyes widen, his face grows pale, ashen, and it takes me a moment to figure out why. He misread my words. Assumed I’ve already tried it.
“Did you—?” he starts, but I’m quick to wave it away.
“No.” I shake my head, as my eyes fix on his. “I wanted to wait for you. I want us to reverse our immortality together. I don’t know what I’l do if you deny me—whether I’l choose this life with you, or a mortal life on my own—I honestly don’t know. But I real y hope you won’t make me choose. I hope you’l think it over and share the fruit with me. It’s the only way we can have the future we want.”
I gaze at him, my eyes pleading with his. But finding only regret, I turn and head for the gate.
thirty-eight
I stand before the big iron gate Damen unlocked with his mind, watching as he beckons for me to join him on its other side. And as tempted as I am to do just that (and believe me, I’m extremely tempted) if I’m going to start living normal y then I’m going to have to start here.
Now.
If I’m going to start living normal y then I’l have to stop relying on magick to free myself from al of my messes.
I shake my head, move past his bewildered gaze, and make my way toward the office, where I send the secretary into a complete frenzy of activity the second I approach her desk and say, “Hi. I’m Ever Bloom. I’m a senior here. And not only am I tardy, but I’ve pretty much skipped out on the last six months and I’m wondering how I might go about making that up.”
Her eyes grow wide as she looks me up and down, then she points toward a chair by the wal , tel s me to sit, to not move an inch, while she turns, simultaneously reaching for her computer and the phone. The hand piece wedged between her shoulder and ear as her fingers pound hard on the keyboard, alerting the principal, the vice principal, my teachers, and Sabine, who was wel aware of my plan and was waiting for this very cal . The fate of my diploma being decided with little to no input from me, and when my previous suspension is mentioned, I’m sure that I’m doomed, but then luckily, thanks to Sabine’s finely honed negotiation skil s they al ow me to attempt what I’m sure they al consider to be the impossible: tel ing me that if I make up everything that I’ve missed—every single test—
every last assignment—within the next two weeks, then they’l let me graduate.
Six months of neglected work that needs to be completed in just fourteen days in order to wear the cap and gown along with the rest of my classmates. Otherwise, I won’t be getting anywhere near it until the same time next year, if then.
With great emphasis on the if.
Clearly if there was ever a time for magick, and manifesting, and trips to the Great Hal s of Learning, it’s now. But, while I refuse to rely on my powers, that doesn’t stop me from relying on my friends—including a few people I didn’t even realize were my friends.
So when classmates I’ve barely even spoken to offer to lend me their notes, and when Stacia and Honor (prompted by Miles, but stil ) offer to help me catch up on al I missed in physics, I’m so shocked by the offer, I say yes. And for someone who’s avoided doing any form of studying or schoolwork for over a year, it’s a little hard to get back into the groove of doing so now.
It’s also impossible to stop myself from just automatical y intuiting the contents the second I touch the cover of my huge stack of textbooks. Mind reading I can control, al I have to do is lower my psychic shield or use my quantum remote, but tapping into the universal consciousness of just intuiting things is something I have no control over. So, instead of fighting it, I decide to use it to my advantage to get through a pile of reading assignments that would be pretty much impossible without it. Besides, I stil have to write the papers, and I stil have to solve al the equations and memorize the formulas, so it’s not like I’m total y cheating. Though, I admit, when it comes to the makeup tests, wel , yeah, al the right answers just automatical y appear. But then, there’s nothing I can do about that either.
Stil , even with the help of my friends along with my psychic powers, it’s a lot to tackle in such a short amount of time. So while I’m busy with schoolwork, Jude and Ava offer to do their part by reading through Roman’s old journals in an attempt to track down al the far-flung immortals—the orphans Damen turned as wel as the ones Roman deemed worthy enough to change through the years. While Romy and Rayne pool their twin talents by crafting handmade party invitations they mail out pretty much al over the globe, as Sabine handles my col ege applications that are so late it looks like I’l be forced to take a year off. Which is probably for the best since it’s been so long since I even thought about having a normal future, I don’t even know where to start.
Not to mention how I always assumed that wherever I ended up, Damen would be right there beside me.
I always assumed we’d head off together, just the two of us.
I never once considered I might end up going it alone.
But not having seen him since the day I left him standing at the gate, I have to admit it’s a real possibility. He’s avoiding school.
Avoiding me. And while I’m wil ing to give him the space that he figures he needs—I hope in the end, he’l decide to come join me.
Despite al the evidence pointing against it—I hope in the end, he’l make the right choice.
If he doesn’t, I don’t know what I’l do. And maybe that’s part of the reason I’ve welcomed the overwhelming volume of schoolwork—
it’s distracted me from the terrible, unavoidable fact that if Damen chooses against the fruit, I’l be forced to make an impossible choice.
Choosing between a misguided life as an immortal—where the universe wil conspire to keep us apart at every turn—and a life without Damen, which is just too horrible to contemplate.
So in the midst of al the studying, and reading, and exam taking, and essay writing, and getting next to no sleep in order to fit it al in, I final y take a little time out to visit Summerland.
Partly because I’m eager to find Lotus so I can tel her just how much I accomplished, and partly because, wel , I’m also eager to visit it while I stil can, while it’s just a simple matter of envisioning that shimmering golden veil and stepping through to its other side. I mean, even though I know plenty of mortals who can get there, I have no way of knowing if I’l stil be able to get there once I become mortal again, and so I’m determined to enjoy it while I can.
After spending a few wonderful moments in the vast fragrant field where I land, after a visit to the Great Hal s of Learning, where I stand before its ever-changing façade and re-experience the thril of being admitted inside, after visiting al of Damen’s and my favorite places—the replica of Versail es he once manifested expressly for me, the field ful of tulips that surrounds the pavilion he made for my seventeenth birthday—after returning to the place where the grass once turned to mud and where the trees were al barren—the former entrance to the Shadowland—after finding my way to the beautiful pond stil blooming with hundreds of the loveliest lotus blossoms—
after al that, when I stil can’t locate Lotus, I decide to tuck one of Romy and Rayne’s handmade pink-and-black party invitation envelopes under a large rock I’d seen her lean against, in the ho
pe that she’l find it.
Then I return to the earth plane, bury myself in my studies, and wait.
Wait to hear from Lotus.
Wait for the RSVPs from al the other immortals to come pouring in.
Wait to hear from Misa, Marco, and Rafe.
Wait to see if they’l let me graduate.
Wait to see which direction my future might take.
The days ticking past with smal bits of news trickling in—but not the news that I want.
There is no word from Damen.
thirty-nine
Maybe I bought into the hype.
Maybe I built it up way too much in my head.
But in the end, I’m sorry to say that graduation is, wel , a little anticlimactic.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s wel organized, flowing along just fine. In fact, it’s a lot like you see in movies and on TV with al the caps, and gowns, and speeches, and laughter, and tears, and reminiscing, and fervent promises to stay in touch. But despite Sabine and Munoz perched in the crowd smiling and waving every time I look their way (and even when I don’t), despite Miles and Honor and (stil shocking to me but I’m starting to get used to it) Stacia, catcal ing and clapping and cheering me on when it’s my turn to head for the stage—
there’s no Haven. No Damen.
And it’s those two glaring absences that pretty much eclipse everything else.
So when I throw my cap in the air, I seize the chance to work a bit of magick. Making it sail way up high into the sky, much higher than anyone else’s, and watching as it loops first into the shape of a tulip and then into the shape of an infinity symbol, before I let it go, watching it free-fal back to the ground.
And I’m just making my way toward Sabine and Munoz when Stacia finds me in the crowd, places her hand on my arm, and says,
“So, see you at the party?” She flips her fingers through her long, blond-streaked hair and settles her eyes on mine.
I squint, taking in her bright yel ow aura, amazed to see she’s sincere.
And before I can answer, Honor catches up and says, “We figured we’d stop by a little early, help you set up.”