I nod, offering my hand as I lead her up the stairs, but she just shakes her head and relies on her cane.
Figuring I’l give it to her first, serve her privately before I gather the others, I’m surprised when she tunes in to my thoughts once again, saying, “You wil find them already gathered. They are waiting for you.”
True enough, when we enter the den off my room we’re greeted by a startling col ection of the eternal y young and beautiful. The eternal y young and beautiful with the best col ection of costumes I’ve ever seen. Some of them choosing to interpret the theme literal y by dressing as actual people, and some choosing to interpret it figuratively by dressing as objects like flowers and trees—there’s even a shooting star standing off in the corner. And, I guess if it’s true that everything is energy, if it’s true that we’re al connected, then there’s real y nothing that divides us from nature—we are al a part of the whole.
They turn to face me, over fifty people whom Roman deemed worthy, making for approximately three people every century—a much smal er group than I would’ve imagined, but stil a much bigger group than I’d hoped.
And honestly, when I real y start to take them al in, I mean each and every one, I start to feel a little ridiculous about what I’m about to propose.
I mean, these people have traveled far and wide for the sole purpose of maintaining the very life they’ve grown used to. These people are so advanced in every conceivable way, so wel traveled, so experienced, so worldly—wel , they’re intimidating to say the least. And I can’t help but wonder why they would even think to listen to me—a seventeen-year-old girl whose biggest worldly accomplishment so far (other than locating the tree) is having barely gotten through high school.
Why should they even think to consider giving up everything they’ve known and loved for so many years for some unknown, completely esoteric idea, which I can easily explain but have no way to prove?
But then I look at Lotus, see the way she nods encouragingly, those rheumy old eyes cheering me on, and it prompts me to gulp down my fears, addressing them al when I say, “I know you’re expecting to see Roman, but Roman’s no longer here, and so you get me. And while I’m sure I can’t even come close to competing with him, now that you’re here, I hope you’l at least consider hearing me out.”
This is met by mumbling. Lots and lots of mumbling. With a good amount of grumbling thrown in as wel . The roar growing so loud I’ve no choice but to shove two fingers into my mouth and let off a long loud whistle to quiet them down.
“When I said that Roman is no longer with us—I meant it in the physical way. His body has perished, though his soul stil lives on. And I happen to know this because I’ve seen it. I’ve communicated with him. The soul never dies. He’s truly immortal now.” I pause, expecting more outbursts and surprised by the quiet that greets me instead.
“And so, while I know you were expecting the elixir, I’m going to offer you something else.” I shift my gaze, my eyes taking in the multiple bottles of red juice left to chil in my mini-fridge, and suddenly changing my tack when I say, “No, actual y I’m going to give you a choice.” My eyes meet Lotus’s, afraid of what she might think, but finding her nodding encouragement, not the slightest bit disturbed by my words. “It only seems fair that you get a real choice. But I want you to consider the choice very careful y, because after today this choice may never come again. So, in short, I’m going to offer you a drink from the elixir that’l extend your life as you know it—preserving your youth and beauty and vitality for another one hundred and fifty years—but you should know that it comes at a price. You can stil die.
If one of your weak chakras is targeted your body wil disintegrate and your soul wil be trapped in the Shadowland—a terrible place you don’t want to visit. Or…” I pause, knowing how important this next part is, and wanting to get it just right, to stress its ful importance, before I lose them completely. “Or, you can taste from the fruit I picked from the Tree of Life—the fruit that offers true immortality—the immortality of the soul. And just so you know, eating it wil reverse everything you are now. Your body wil age, and grow old, and yes, you’l eventual y die. But your being, your true essence, your soul, wil realize eternity as it was always intended to be.” I bite down on my lip as my hands fidget by my sides, knowing I’ve said al I can. The choice is now theirs. And though I think it’s an obvious choice, it’s stil a pretty big decision to make.
There’s much murmuring, much questioning, much suspicion, and since everyone already thinks Lotus is crazy, and since everyone equates me as the girlfriend of the one person they’ve been trained to hate, it’s pretty clear that my little speech was not nearly as wel received as I’d hoped.
But just as I’m sure I’ve only convinced them to embrace another one hundred and fifty years of what they’ve come to know and love—
the flower, the shooting star, and the tree step forward, step right out of the crowd, making their way to where I now stand. And I blink in astonishment when I realize it’s Misa, Marco, and Rafe.
They’re glowing.
Absolutely, positively glowing.
Their auras beaming bright, glistening in the most unmistakable way, just like they did upon leaving the tree.
They pick up right where I left off, talking excitedly, voices overlapping, explaining about the miraculous transformation they made the moment they tasted the fruit.
Tel ing the crowd what I already sensed to be true—al of that whooping and hol ering they engaged in just after having eaten the fruit wasn’t because they believed they’d ensured their physical immortality, but because they felt their soul’s immortality being restored.
Experienced the thril of their karma righting itself with the universe.
While they’re talking, Lotus looks at me, steeples her hands against her chest in a silent blessing, and goes about placing smal bits of fruit into little paper cups, ensuring there’s enough for everyone, before she plucks one for herself, looks at me, and says, “Please.
Come with me.”
I hesitate. Wanting to witness the moment when the immortals, convinced by what they’ve heard, al step forward as one, and choose their new path.
But Lotus just shakes her head and says, “You’ve done al you can. The rest is left to them.”
I glance over my shoulder, see the way the crowd moves closer to Misa, Marco, and Rafe, then I fol ow Lotus down the stairs and through the house, col ecting Ava, the twins, Jude, Stacia, Honor, Miles, Holt, even Sabine and Munoz along the way, wanting to take this final journey with those who’ve helped her to get to this point.
She leads us into the backyard, where she kicks off her shoes, closes her eyes, and sighs as she sinks her toes deep into the grass.
Then lifting her head, she glances at each of us, her gaze settling on me when she says, “You have released me. And while my gratitude knows no bounds, your trust in me has been at your own great, personal expense. For that I am sorry.”
She nods, bows ever so slightly, and I wait for her to say something more, to tel me not to worry, that it al gets better from here, but instead she brings the cup to her lips and ingests. Shuttering her eyes as her hands swiftly rise, her fingers uncurling, her palms flattening—the yard fal ing quiet as Lotus begins to glow the most beautiful golden color that can’t be ignored.
Her face radiant, beaming, her cane al but forgotten, abandoned by her side—a witness to something miraculous, something viewable only to her. And I can’t help but gasp when instead of the ash I’ve grown so used to seeing, two perfect lotus blossoms bloom forth from her palms.
She turns toward me, places one behind my ear and the other in my hand, gently closing my fingers around it as she says, “This one is for Damen. You must go to him now.”
I nod, eager to do just that, but also wanting to see this thing through.
Torn between leaving and staying when Jude leans toward me and says, “He’s here.”
I look at him, m
y heart leaping into my throat, thinking he’s referring to Damen, but soon realizing he meant someone else.
“Her husband. He’s come to escort her to the other side.” He motions toward the space beside Lotus, a space that appears empty to me.
I watch as Lotus steps forward, once, twice, before she simply disappears. Her body so old, so worn, its immortality so suddenly reversed, it could no longer withstand the gravity of the earth plane. And yet, she got exactly what she wanted, what she sought al this time. Leaving nothing more than a glittering pile of gold dust behind.
Everyone remains quiet, reluctant to mar it with words.
Everyone but Stacia, who says, “O- kay … now that that’s done, can someone please tel me where to find that super-hot guy who’s dressed as a gladiator?”
Miles and Holt burst out laughing and lead her into the house, while Ava and the twins hang back with Sabine and Munoz, going over the details about the upcoming wedding, as Romy and Rayne beg to be bridesmaids.
Then Honor looks back and forth between Jude and me and says, “Okay, here’s the deal: I’m taking my Pocahontas-costumed self back inside so that you two can settle whatever it is you need to get settled. Seriously, have your little powwow, get it al out of your system, and then Jude, when you’re ready, when you’re ready to put your ful attention on me, and only me, wel , you know where to find me.”
I start to reach toward her, start to say that there’s nothing to settle, nothing to get out of our systems, that we’ve been through it al , that there’s no more to be said. But she turns, shoots me a look that shows she means business, so I let her go, turning my focus to Jude.
“So, Bastiaan de Kool.” I smile, hoping if I hold the look long enough, it wil start to feel real. Wondering how it’s possible to feel so bleak after having accomplished so much. But I know why, and I intend to deal with that soon enough. “Out of al of your lives, was Bastiaan your favorite?” My gaze settles on his filmy white cotton shirt and paint-splattered pants.
Jude laughs, his aqua gaze on mine when he says, “Wel , he is the one who got al the girls. Wel , al except one.”
I look toward the window, catching Honor peering at us. Her face betraying just how anxious and worried she is at the thought of losing him to me. And while I have no way of knowing if they’re truly meant to be together for the long haul, they seem to real y enjoy each other, seem to be good for each other, good to each other, and that’s al that real y matters right now.
“Give her a chance,” I say, returning to Jude. And when he starts to cut in, I flash my palm, adding, “Last time, when you asked me what I thought of her, it’s no accident I didn’t answer. At the time, I real y wasn’t sure. But now I am, and I think you should give her a real, genuine, ful -blown, honest-to-goodness chance. She’s come a long way since I first met her, and she’s crazy about you.” I meet his gaze. “And honesly, I think you deserve someone to be crazy about you. I think you deserve al the happiness you can possibly handle.
Besides,” I shrug, “you’re no longer Bastiaan, and, despite my red hair,” I point toward my head, “I’m no longer Fleur. Nor am I Adelina, or Evaline, or Emala, or Chloe, or Abigail, or any of them. Those were just roles we played until it was time to move on to the next. And while we’l always carry a part of them with us, we have so many more roles stil to play. When you think about it, in the big scheme of things, our time together is like a dash of spice in a big cosmic soup—important for richness of flavor, but stil , not quite the main ingredient. The past is over. It can’t and shouldn’t be reclaimed. Al we ever have is now anyway.” I nod toward the window where Honor is waiting. “Don’t you think it’s time we embrace it?”
Jude stands before me, gives me a long lingering look, then nods in agreement. “And you?” he asks, remaining there even after I turn to walk away. “Is that what you plan to do?”
I glance over my shoulder, first at him, then down at the lotus blossom in my hand, saying, “Yeah. Starting right now.”
forty-two
On my way to Damen’s I make a quick detour.
Just one quick stop to utilize my manifesting powers while I stil can.
Just one brief diversion that I hope wil amount to something that Damen and I can enjoy together.
If not, then I can only assume that someone else wil enjoy it for us.
But I can’t al ow myself to think like that.
Can’t al ow even the slightest bit of negativity to slip in.
I’m sure Damen wil bear enough for the both of us, so it’s not like I need to add to it.
I wave at Sheila the gate guard, who surprisingly, considering how long I’ve been gone, just waves me right in. Then I make my way up the hil and around the series of turns, until I’m pul ing onto his street. Remembering the very first time I came here—back when I was uninvited and forced to climb through an open kitchen window—only to find the place devoid of al furnishings in a way that wasn’t just empty, but eerily empty. Wel , eerily empty except for the room upstairs where he kept al of his most cherished mementos from his past
—a room that took me some time to learn to appreciate.
I leave my car in the drive and head for the door. Not bothering to ring the bel or knock, I just let myself in. Charging right through his enormous foyer and straight toward the stairs, knowing just where to find him, just where he goes when he’s feeling troubled like he is.
He stands at the window, his back turned to me, his gaze fixed on some faraway place, when he says, “There was a time when you thought this room was creepy. When you thought I was creepy.”
I pause by the old velvet settee, making no attempt to deny what he said. Taking in his col ection of handwoven tapestries, crystal chandeliers, golden candelabras, gilt-framed masterpieces—a visual reminder of a very long, adventure-fil ed life—a visual reminder that what I’m about to ask of him is no smal request.
“There was a time when you held great resentment toward me for what I’d done to you—for what I’d made you.”
I nod, there’s no use denying that either, we both know it’s true. And though I wish he would face me, though I beg him with my mind to turn so he can see me, he remains where he is, rooted in place.
“And it’s clear you stil cling to that resentment. It’s why we find ourselves here. Divided like we are.”
“I don’t resent you,” I say, gaze glued to his back. “I know everything you’ve done, you’ve done out of love. How could I possibly resent you for that?” My voice cushioned by antique rugs, heavy drapes, piles of silk pil ows, but stil managing to echo right back at me, sounding much smal er than I would’ve anticipated.
“But we are now at a crossroads.” He nods, his finger playing at something he holds against the windowsil , something he keeps just out of view. “You want to erase what I’ve done and go back to the old way of being, while I want to stay as I am, hold on to the life I’ve grown used to living.” He sighs. “And, I’m afraid in light of al that, there’s real y no way to compromise. We’ve come to a juncture—a place where we either have to find a way to agree on a shared destination, or head off in separate directions, and live separate lives.”
I stay quiet, stil , hating the sound of his words—the way they cause my gut to clench and stir—yet knowing it’s true. A choice must be made, and it must be made soon.
“You must understand, Ever, that even though you’ve built a very strong and valid case, even though my choice is wrong in many, if not every, way—for the last six hundred years this al that I’ve known. This is the life I’ve become accustomed to. And, as much as I hate to admit it, I’m just not sure I’m cut out to be mortal. While it was easy to give up on my extravagant ways when I thought my karma was to blame for our problems—while it was extremely easy to trade in my handmade motorcycle boots for rubber flip-flops—what you ask of me now, wel , it’s another thing entirely. And I know how incredibly hypocritical I probably sound. On the one hand, I claim to be so concerned with
the karmic state of my soul, and yet, on the other, so fervently resistant to the one and only real solution that’s presented to fix it, but stil , there it is. Stated plainly, I’m not wil ing to give up my eternal youth and physical perfection in order to watch my body grow old and decay and eventual y die. I’m not wil ing to give up my access to magick and manifesting and easy trips to Summerland.
I’m just not. Perhaps it’s easier for you, having only been immortal for a year versus my six hundred. But, Ever, please, try to understand that my immortality has defined me for so long, I’m not sure who I’l be if I choose a life without it. I’m not sure who I’l be if I’m no longer the man you now see. Wil you stil love me? Wil I even like me? I’m just not wil ing to take the chance to find out.”
I balk. Seriously, balk. But it’s not like it matters. It’s not like he sees me. I mean, I knew he was fearful, I knew he was afraid of making such a huge change, but I never once considered he might be fearful of losing me once his physical immortality is stripped away.
Final y finding my voice enough to say, “You honestly think I won’t love you anymore? You honestly think that al of your experiences and talents and beliefs—al of the things that have shaped you into the amazing person I know you to be—wil somehow vanish and leave you a dul , empty, unlovable shel , the minute you choose to eat the fruit? Damen, seriously, you must know I don’t love you because you’re immortal, I love you because you’re you.” But even though my words are impassioned, spoken straight from the heart, they fal short.
“Let’s not kid ourselves, Ever. First you fel in love with the magical me—the fancy car, the tulips, the mystery. It was only later when you got to know the real me. And even then, it’s hard to separate the two. And, if I remember correctly, you weren’t so wild about what you once referred to as my ‘monk phase.’”
He makes a good point, but I’m quick to refute it. “It’s true that I fel fast and hard for the magical, manifesting, mysterious you—but that was infatuation, not love. Once I got to know you, once I got to know your heart, and soul, and the truly wonderful being that you are, wel , that’s when that infatuation grew much deeper and turned into love. And yeah, while it’s also true that I didn’t exactly love it when you chose to give up al the fancy stuff, I never stopped loving you. Besides, aren’t you the one who once told me that everything that can be done in Summerland can be done in the earth plane too? Didn’t you claim that it might take a little longer to see it come to fruition but that it works al the same?”