He smiles, fingers moving over my cheeks, down my neck, along my collarbone, and quickly replacing his fingers with his lips. It’s real, he thinks. No shield is necessary. There is no danger here.
I look at him, my mind racing with the possibilities. Is it—is it really possible that we can be together—now—here? Hoping against hope that it is.
But he takes a deep breath and joins his fingers with mine, touching me in a way we haven’t experienced for months when he thinks: I’m afraid this is merely a theater of the past. You can edit the script, but you’re not allowed to change it, ad-lib it, or add experiences that never occurred.
I nod, saddened by the news but eager to begin again, pulling him back to me and pressing my lips against his, determined to be happy with whatever is allowed, for however long it can last.
And so we kiss at the servants’ door—he in his fine-woven black waistcoat and I in my plain servant’s wear.
We kiss in the stables—he in full English hunting attire and I in my tight riding breeches, sharply tailored red jacket, and shiny black boots.
We kiss by the waterside—he in the plain white shirt and black slacks of the day and I in grossly unflattering Puritan wear.
We kiss in a field of tulips so red, they’re a nearly perfect match for my blaze of thick, wavy hair. He in a filmy white shirt and loose trousers, I in a blush-colored slip of silk, strategically knotted and tied. Taking the occasional break so he can continue to paint me, adding a stroke here, a dab there, only to throw down his brush, pull me back to him, and kiss me again.
All of my lives so different, and yet somehow playing out almost exactly the same—the two of us finding each other and falling quickly, only to have Damen, determined to not act rashly, to gain my full trust before feeding me the elixir, hesitate for so long it gave Drina enough time to catch on and eliminate me.
And that’s why you wasted no time when you found me after the accident, I think. Cradled in the warmth of his arms, my cheek pressed tightly to his chest, seeing the moment from his perspective—how he’d found me when I was ten (thanks to a little help from Romy and Rayne and Summerland)—and how he spent the next several years biding his time until enough years had passed and he moved to Eugene, Oregon. Having just enrolled in my high school when the accident happened and destroyed all his plans.
I watch him at the scene—see how he hesitates—nervously fretting—begging for guidance. Panicking when the silver cord that attaches the body to the soul became so tense, so stretched, it snapped yet again, instantly forming his decision to press the bottle to my lips and force me to drink, forced me back to life, to become immortal like him.
Any regrets? He gazes at me, urging me to be honest, no matter what.
But I just shake my head. Smiling as I pull him back to me, back to that blazing red field of that long-ago day.
twenty-three
“You ready?”
Damen’s fingers graze over my lips, the almost feel of them infusing me with the memory of a kiss so real, so tangible, I’m tempted to drag him right back to Summerland and start up all over again.
Only I can’t. We can’t. We already committed to this. And though it can never compare to the birthday celebration Damen just gave me, everyone’s waiting and there’s no turning back.
I take a deep breath and gaze at the house just before us. Its façade simple, attractive, in that cozy, welcoming way, despite that fact that it’s hosted some of the very worst scenes of my not-so-long-ago past.
“Let’s go back to Paris,” I murmur, only half joking. “You don’t even have to edit out the nasty parts. Seriously. I’d much rather put on the crunchy brown dress and scrub the latrines—or whatever they called them back then—than face this.”
“Latrines?” He looks at me and shakes his head, the sweet tinkle of his laugh flowing over me as his dark eyes glint. “Sorry, Ever, but there were no latrines back then. No restrooms, or bathrooms, or water closets even. That was the time of chamber pots. A sort of, well, ceramic pot, kept under one’s bed. And trust me, that is one memory you do not want to relive.”
I grimace, unable to imagine how completely gross that must’ve been to use such a device, much less to have to empty it. Visibly wincing when I say, “See? If I could only explain to Munoz that the real reason I’m just not that into his class is because history tends to lose its appeal for those who were actually forced to live it.”
Damen laughs, head thrown back in a way that makes his neck so inviting, so enticing, it’s all I can do not to press my lips hard against it. “Trust me, we’ve all lived it. Most of us just don’t get the chance to remember it, much less relive it.” He looks at me, his face gone serious when he says, “So, are you ready? I know it’s awkward, and I know you’re still a long way from ever trusting her again, but they’re waiting, so at the very least, let’s just stop in and allow them the pleasure of shouting Happy Birthday, okay?”
He looks at me, gaze warm, open, and I know if I said no, showed the slightest bit of resistance, he’d go with it. But I won’t. Because the truth is, he’s right. I have to face her again eventually. Not to mention how I’d really like her to look me in the eye as she tries to convince me of her highly unlikely story.
I nod slowly, reluctantly, moving toward the door when he says, “Now remember—act surprised.” Rapping his knuckles once, twice, then merging his brows when no one bothers to answer it in a well-rehearsed chorus of “Surprise!”
He pushes the door open, leading me past the entry, down the hall, and into the sunny yellow kitchen beyond, only to find Ava, dressed in a brown strapless dress and gold sandals, casually helping herself to a drink that’s suspiciously red.
“Sangria,” she says, shaking her head and laughing when she adds, “Really, Ever, just how long will it take for you to trust me again?”
I press my lips together and shrug, doubting I’ll ever be able to trust her again, despite what Damen’s told me. I need to hear it from her, then I’ll decide.
“Everyone’s out back.” She nods, looking at me when she adds, “So tell me, were you surprised?”
“Only by the lack of surprise.” I grant her a half smile, that’s the best I can manage, and she’s lucky to even get that. And that has far less to do with how I may feel about her personally, and more to do with the fact that she’s gladly taken over the care and feeding of the twins, allowing Damen and me our privacy again.
“So it did work!” She laughs, ushering Damen and me out back where everyone’s gathered. “We figured the only way to throw you off the scent was to do the opposite of what you expect.”
I step onto the patio, seeing Romy and Rayne lying on the grass, stringing necklaces from a large, gleaming bowl of crystals and beads, then draping them around the stone statue of Buddha, while Jude lounges alongside them, eyes closed, face tilted toward the sun, his arms back to new, courtesy of Summerland. And despite the surge of warmth, love, and security that tingles right through me as Damen leans into my shoulder and squeezes my hand, I can’t help but feel saddened when I gaze upon my supposed group of friends.
A woman I don’t like, much less trust; twins who openly resent me—one more than the other, but still; and an apparent love interest from the past who just so happens to be the longtime, bitter rival of my soul mate. And the only thing that makes me feel the slightest bit better is Miles, and the fact that if he wasn’t in Florence, he’d surely be here with me.
But not Haven.
After I became myself again and tried to explain it to her, she was still too irate to do anything but scream at me. And so I pretty much had no choice but to give her a little time to cool off—I just hope she’ll come around eventually and see what Roman is really about.
And standing here like this, with my sad little birthday party playing out before me—well, it only drives home the fact that I’ve lost her—her trust—her friendship—and I’ve no idea if I can ever get it back. I mean, just when we have more in com
mon than ever before—just when I can finally share the secrets I’ve been hiding the whole time I’ve known her—I mess everything up so badly she ditches me for my immortal enemy.
I sigh under my breath, sure I can’t possibly feel any worse, when Honor squeezes through the French doors and heads straight for Jude. Dropping down beside him and arranging her dress so comfortably and casually I can’t help but gape. Can’t hide my openmouthed, gawking confusion when she turns to me and twists her wrist back and forth in an awkward little wave.
I nod, barely, imperceptibly, unable to speak past the lump in my throat, unable to make sense of this scene.
Are they dating? Or just hanging out because of their shared interest in magick? Did he truly not get it when I explained that we’re merely classmates not friends, and the huge gaping difference that divides the two?
And as my eyes sweep over them, all of them, I can’t believe this is it. That this is what it’s come to. Almost a year in this town, trying to forge some kind of life, and my only real lasting relationship is with Damen, which, truth be told, I’ve managed to push beyond all reasonable limits.
Ava clears her throat and offers us a drink, in what I’m sure is an attempt at a feigned bit of normalcy for Honor and Jude’s sake, since they’re pretty much the only ones here who don’t know the real truth about Damen and me—or at least not to the full extent anyway.
But I just shake my head and wave it away, convincing myself that it’s better like this, really and truly the only way. The fewer connections I make, the fewer good-byes I’ll have to say. But even though I know for a fact that it’s true, it doesn’t do much to fill up that big empty space lurking inside me.
I squeeze Damen’s hand, telepathically assuring him not to worry, to just stay put and I’ll be back soon. Then I make my way inside, at first thinking I’ll make for the bathroom, splash some cold water over my face and try to get some of that good feeling back, but when I see the door to Ava’s “sacred space” I duck in there instead. Startled to see the purple walls and indigo door transformed into a pastel haven of preppy décor—a room that’s got to be Romy’s since Rayne would never go for such a look.
I perch on the edge of her bed, fingers smoothing the soft green duvet as I gaze at the floor just before me, remembering the day when everything changed. The day I said good-bye to Damen, the day I was foolish enough to trust him to Ava’s care. So convinced I was doing the right thing—the only thing—little did I know how that one small choice would have such huge repercussions that would pretty much impact the rest of my life—the rest of eternity.
I take a deep breath and rest my head in my hands, telling myself to get up, get back out there, make an attempt at small talk, then find an excuse to leave. Rubbing my eyes and running my fingers through my hair and over my clothes, just about to do exactly that when Ava comes in and says, “Oh good, I’ve been hoping for a moment alone with you.”
I press my lips together, fighting the overwhelming urge to rush toward her and punch out all her chakras, if for no other reason than to see, once and for all, just whose side she’s really on. But I don’t. I don’t do a thing. Instead, I stay right where I am and wait for her to begin.
“You know, you’re right about me.” She nods, leaning against Romy’s dresser, legs crossed at the ankles, though her arms remain open and loose. “I did run off with the elixir. And I did leave Damen exposed and defenseless. There’s just no getting around it.”
I gaze at her, my heart beating frantically, even though I already knew it, even though Damen explained it to me, it’s a whole other experience to hear her actually admit it.
“But before you rush to conclusions, I’m afraid there’s a little more to it than that. Despite what you may think, I was never in cahoots with Roman. I wasn’t partnered with him, friendly with him, or working with him in any way, shape, or form. He came by for a reading once, yes, way back when I first started. And, to be honest, his energy was so off—so disconcerting—I gave him a silent blessing and sent him on his way. But the reason I did what I did—the reason I failed to look after Damen, well, it’s complicated—”
“I’ll bet.” I lift my brow and shake my head. I’ve no intention of cutting her any slack or letting her dance around it with some overly complex explanation.
She nods, determined to take it in stride. True to her usual self, she’s unfazed by my outburst. “At first, I admit, I got a little caught up in all the possibilities of Summerland, of all the glorious gifts that it offered. You have to understand I’ve been out on my own for so long, supporting myself and working hard for everything that I have with no help from anyone, and more often than not, just barely scraping by—”
“Are you seriously expecting me to feel sorry for you? Because if so—save it. Seriously. It won’t work.” I shake my head and roll my eyes.
“Just trying to give you a little background.” She shrugs, clasping her hands before her and flexing her fingers. “It’s not a bid for sympathy, believe me. If nothing else, I think I’ve learned an important lesson in taking responsibility for my own life. I’m just trying to explain my initial reaction to Summerland, how enthralled I was by the ability to just manifest any material thing I could want. And I know I went a little overboard, and I know how much it annoyed you. But, after a while, I realized I could build myself a mansion full of treasures in Summerland, but it wouldn’t make me any happier—either there or on the earth plane. And that’s when I decided to go a little deeper, try to improve myself in ways I’d never truly attempted before. Sure, I had my sacred space and my meditations, but once I set my sights on gaining access to the Great Halls of Learning, well, that’s when I was forced to walk all that talk I’d been spouting for years. And so—I gave up everything else and concentrated solely on that, and it wasn’t long before I was in, and I never looked back.”
I look at her, my eyes narrowed to slits, and all I can think is: Well, bravo for you, Ava, bravo for you.
“I know what you are, Ever. Damen too. And while I don’t necessarily agree with it, it’s not my place to interfere.”
“Is that why you tried to have him killed? Is that how you deal with things you don’t approve of? Sounds like interfering to me.” I glare at her, digging my toe into the carpet as deep as it’ll go.
She shakes her head, her voice calm, gaze fixed on mine. “I didn’t know any of this when I left Damen that day. Back then, I truly believed that everything would be reversed—just as you believed too. You’d go back in time, Damen would go back as well, and while I wasn’t sure of just what the elixir was, I had my suspicions, had every intention of drinking it too—but then, for some reason, just when I was about to—I stopped. I just couldn’t go through with it. I guess the enormity of it got to me—the enormity of living forever.” She looks at me. “That’s pretty serious stuff—don’t you think?”
I shrug. Shrug and roll my eyes. So far she hasn’t said a thing to change my mind about her, and I’m still not convinced she didn’t drink it, for that matter.
“So, in the end, I tossed it, made the portal to Summerland, and started searching for answers—for peace.”
“And did you find any?” I ask, the tone in my voice making it clear that I don’t really care either way.
“Yes.” She smiles. “My peace is in knowing that we’ve all got our own journey—our own destiny to fulfill. And now, I finally know mine.” I look at her, seeing the way her face lights up when she adds, “I’m here to use my gifts to help those who need it, to live without fear, to trust that I’ll always have enough to get by, and to finish raising the twins in a way I failed to manage before.” She gives me a look, a look like she wants to reach out and hug me, but luckily she settles for running her hand through her hair and staying right where she is. “I’m sorry about what happened, Ever. I never thought it would end up like this. And while I may not approve of what you and Damen are, it’s really not my place to judge. You’ve got your own journey to walk.??
?
“Yeah? And what’s that?” I ask, my eyes meeting hers, surprised by the amount of yearning in my voice, hoping she might have some sort of clue as to just what it is that I’m here for. Because so far, I have no idea.
But Ava just shrugs, her kind brown eyes sparkling on mine when she says, “Oh, no.” She smiles and shakes her head. “I’m afraid that’s for you to discover all on your own. But believe me, Ever, I’ve no doubt it’s going to be big.”
twenty-four
By the time I get home, it’s late. And even though Damen offers to help me carry my gifts up the stairs and into my room, even though part of me is tempted to let him do exactly that, I just give him a quick kiss on the cheek and head in on my own. Wanting only to dive into the welcoming cocoon of my bed, so I can have the final hour of my birthday to myself.
I pick my way up the stairs, carefully, quietly, not wanting to alert Sabine whose light is peeking out from under her door. Having just dropped the bundle of presents onto my desk, when she pads down the hall and comes in.
“Happy Birthday.” She smiles, wrapped in a robe so creamy and plush it looks like a cloud of whipped cream. Squinting at the clock on my nightstand when she says, “It is still your birthday, right?”
“Seventeen.” I nod. “And not a day older.” Watching as she makes her way in and perches on the edge of my bed, eyeballing the pile of gifts—a couple of metaphysical books from Ava that I pretty much “read” the moment I touched them, an amethyst geode from Jude, a T-shirt that says NEVER SUMMON ANYTHING YOU CAN’T BANISH from Rayne (ha-ha), and another one with a colorful spiral symbol from Romy that probably came from the same Wiccan store, along with an iTunes gift card from Honor who handed it to me as she mumbled, “Um, because you seem to really like music with the way you’re always, you know, all plugged in and all.” Oh, and vase after vase of brilliant red tulips that Damen must’ve manifested the moment he drove away.