Shadowland

by Alyson Noel

  I head down the hall and into the den, noticing how the door isn’t the only thing that’s changed since I was last here. Gone are the framed Botticelli prints and abundance of chintz, all of it replaced by marble and stone, dark heavy fabrics, rough plastered walls, and black iron things shaped into scrolls.

  “Tuscan?” I turn, startled to find him standing so near I can see the individual dark purple flecks in his eyes.

  He shrugs, refusing to back up and give me some space. “Sometimes I get a little hankering for the old country.” He smiles, a slow widening of his cheeks, displaying shiny white teeth. “As you well know, Ever, there’s no place like home.”

  I swallow hard and turn away, trying to determine my quickest escape since I can’t afford to make even the slightest mistake.

  “So tell me, to what do I owe this magnificent honor?” He glances over his shoulder as he heads for the bar. Removing a bottle of elixir from the wine refrigerator and pouring it into a cut crystal glass, before offering it to me. But I just shake my head and wave it away, watching as he carries it over to the couch where he plops himself down, spreads his legs wide, and rests the glass on his knee. “I’m assuming you didn’t drop by in the dead of night to admire my latest decorating scheme. So tell me, what’s the purpose of this?”

  I clear my throat, forcing myself to look him square in the eye without flinching, wavering, fidgeting, or exhibiting any other sign of weakness. Aware of how this whole situation can change in an instant—how easily I can turn from mild curiosity to irresistible prey.

  “I’m here to call a truce,” I say, alert for some kind of reaction but getting only his penetrating gaze. “You know, a cease-fire, a proclamation of peace, a—”

  “Please.” He waves his hand. “Spare me the definition, luv. I can say it in twenty languages and forty dialects. You?”

  I shrug, knowing I’m lucky to have said it in the one. Watching as he swirls his drink, the iridescent red liquid flashing and sparking as it runs up the sides and splashes back down.

  “And just what sort of truce are you after? You of all people should know how it works. I’ve no intention of giving you anything, unless you’re willing to give up something of your own.” He pats the narrow space just beside him, smiling as though I’d actually consider joining him there.

  “Why do you do this?” I ask, unable to contain my frustration. “I mean, you’re more or less decent looking, you’re immortal, you’ve got all the gifts that go with it—you can pretty much have anyone you want, so why do you insist on bothering me?”

  He throws his head back and laughs, a giant roar that fills up the room. Finally calming down enough to level his gaze, looking at me as he says, “Decent looking?” He shakes his head and laughs again, placing his glass on the table and retrieving a pair of golden nail clippers from a jewel-encrusted case. “Decent looking,” he mutters, shaking his head, taking a moment to check out his nails, before returning his focus to me. “But you see, luv, that’s just it. I can have anything I want. Anything or anyone. It all comes so easy. Too easy.” He sighs, getting to work on his nails, so absorbed by the task, I’m wondering if he’ll continue when he says, “It all gets a little tedious after the first—oh—hundred or so years. And while you’re far too new to understand any of this, someday you’ll realize just how big of a favor I’ve done you.”

  I squint, having no idea what he could possibly mean. A favor? Is he serious?

  “You sure you won’t have a seat?” He wags his nail clipper toward the overstuffed chair just to my right, urging me to take it. “You’re making me out to be a very bad host, insisting on standing there like that. Besides, do you have any idea how fetching you look? A little—bedridden—sure, but in the sexiest way.”

  He narrows his eyes until they’re sleek as a cat’s, lips parting just enough for his tongue to escape. But I just stay put and pretend not to notice. Everything with Roman is a game, and taking a seat would be conceding defeat. Though remaining like this, watching his tongue wet his lips as his gaze lingers in all the wrong places, doesn’t feel like much of a win.

  “You’re even more delusional than I thought if you think you’ve done me a favor,” I say, voice hoarse, scratchy, a long way from strong. “You’re crazy!” I add, regretting it the instant it’s out.

  But Roman just shrugs, unfazed by my outburst as he returns to his nails. “Trust me, it’s more than just a favor, luv. I’ve given you a purpose. A raison d’être as they say.” He glances at me, brow raised. “Tell me, Ever, are you not completely fixated on finding a way to—consummate—with Damen? Are you not so desperate for a solution you actually convinced yourself it was a good idea to come here?”

  I swallow hard and stare at him. I should’ve known better, should’ve heeded Damen’s advice.

  “You’re too impatient.” He nods, smoothing the edges of his freshly clipped nails. “What’s the rush when you have all of infinity laid out before you? Think about it, Ever, how exactly would you spend your eternity if it weren’t for me? Showering each other with huge bouquets of bloody red tulips? Having at each other so often it couldn’t help but grow boring?”

  “This is ridiculous.” I glare. “And the fact that you see it like this—like it’s some chivalrous deed that you’ve done—” I shake my head, knowing there’s no need to continue. He’s delusional, insane, determined to see things in his own selfish way.

  “Six hundred years I yearned for her,” he says, tossing his nail clippers aside, gaze never once leaving mine. “And why, you ask? Why would I bother with the same woman for so long when I can have anyone?” He looks at me as though waiting for the answer, but we both know I’ve no intention of going there. “It wasn’t just her beauty like you think—though I will admit, it did spur things at the start.” He smiles, eyes reminiscent. “No, it was the simple fact that I couldn’t have her. No matter how hard I tried, no matter how long I pined, I was never allowed”—he looks at me, gaze heavy, intense—“admittance—if you will.”

  I roll my eyes. I can’t help it. The fact that he wasted centuries pining for that monster is of no interest to me.

  But he just continues, ignoring my pained expression when he says, “Make no mistake, Ever, I’m about to share something very important, something you really should keep in mind.” He leans forward, arms on knees, voice steady and low, filled with new urgency. “We always want what we can’t have.” He leans back, nodding as though he just shared the key to enlightenment. “It’s human nature. We’re hardwired that way. And as much as you’d prefer not to believe it, it’s the only reason Damen’s spent the last four hundred years longing for you.”

  I look at him, face placid, body still, aware that he’s trying to hurt me, prodding the usual spots, knowing this has been one of my fears from the moment I first learned of our history.

  “Face it, Ever, even Drina’s incredible beauty wasn’t enough to keep his interest. I’m sure you’re aware of just how quickly he tired of her?”

  I swallow hard, stomach like a hard bitter marble. Since when is two hundred years considered quickly? But I guess when you’re dealing with eternity everything is relative.

  “It’s not a beauty contest,” I say, cringing when I hear the words spoken aloud. I mean, seriously, is that the best I could do?

  “Of course it’s not, luv.” Roman shakes his head, pity in his gaze. “If it was, Drina would win.” He settles back, arms spread across the cushions, glass resting on top, daring me to respond. “Let me guess, you’ve convinced yourself it’s about two souls meeting as one, destined for each other, and all of that—puppy love?” He laughs, nodding when he adds, “That is what you’re thinking, right?”

  “You don’t want to know what I’m thinking.” I narrow my gaze, determined to get to the point now that my patience’s dissolved. “I didn’t come here to be bored by your philosophical litanies, I came here because—”

  “Because you want something from me.” He nods, setting do
wn his drink, glass meeting wood with a solid, wet thwomp. “In which case, I’m in the driver’s seat, which means you’re in no position to set the pace.”

  “Why do you do this?” I shake my head, having grown bored with this game. “Why do you bother when you know I’m not interested? Surely you realize that no matter what you do to Damen and me, it’ll never bring Drina back. What’s done is done. It can never be changed. And, in the end, all of this game playing, all of this nonsense you engage in—all it really does is prevent you from living your life—from moving on.” I continue to stare, gaze unwavering, convincing. Projecting an image of him handing over the antidote and cooperating with me. “So, I’m asking you, in as reasonable a way as I can—please help me undo what you’ve done to Damen, so we can all coexist.”

  He shakes his head, lids squinched tight. “Sorry, darlin’, the price is set. Now it’s just a matter of whether you’re willing to pay.”

  I lean against the wall, tired, defeated, but not letting on. Knowing the one thing he wants is the one thing I’ll never give. The same old game Damen warned me about. “You’ll never have me, Roman. Never, ever, for as long as I—”

  Not even getting to the more degrading, insulting part that comes next when he rises from the couch, moving so quickly his breath hits my cheek long before I can blink.

  “Relax,” he whispers, face looming so close I can make out each flawless pore on his skin. “As much fun as that might be, providing an amusing diversion at least, I’m afraid that’s not it. I’m after something far more esoteric than a virginal shag. Though, if you’d like to make a go of it, no strings attached, then I assure you, darlin’, I’m certainly up for the task.” He smiles, deep blue eyes boring into mine, projecting the movie he plays in his head, the one starring him, and me, and a king-sized bed.

  I look away, breath coming ragged, too fast, summoning every ounce of my will not to slam my knee in his groin when his nose glances my ear, my cheek, my neck, inhaling my scent.

  “I know what you’re going through, Ever,” he murmurs, lips brushing the tip of my ear. “Longing for something so close and yet—you can never quite taste it. It’s the kind of pain most people will never experience. But we know, don’t we? You and I are joined in that way.”

  I unclench my fists and fight to steady myself. Knowing I can’t risk doing anything rash, can’t afford to overreact.

  “Not to worry.” He smiles, slipping just out of my reach. “You’re a smart girl. I’m sure you’ll figure it out. And if not—” He shrugs. “Well, nothing changes, right? Everything stays exactly the same. You and I with our fates intertwined—for all of infinity.”

  He slips down the hall, moving so fast it’s a moment before I can make out his form. Tilting his head and urging me toward the door, practically pushing me onto his stoop when he says, “Sorry to cut this so short. Though I do so with your reputation in mind. If Damen ever found out you were here—well, that could be rather tragic for you, couldn’t it?”

  He smiles, all shiny white teeth, golden hair, tanned skin, and blue eyes—the ultimate California poster boy beckoning—Come live the good life in Laguna Beach! And I’m furious with myself—furious for being so stupid—for not listening to Damen—for putting us further at risk. Handing Roman yet one more thing to lord over my head.

  “Sorry you didn’t get what you came for, luv,” he purrs, his attention pulled by a vintage black Jaguar that pulls into the drive, containing a gorgeous dark-haired couple who head right inside. Closing the door behind them as he adds, “Whatever you do, steer clear of Marco’s car on your way out, he’ll flip if you so much as smudge it.”

  twelve

  I walk home. Or at least, that’s the direction I originally head in. But somewhere along the way I take a turn. And then another. And another. My feet moving so slowly they practically drag, knowing there’s no need to run, nothing to prove. Despite my strength and speed, I’m no match for Roman. He’s the master of this game and I’m merely his pawn.

  I continue, deep into the heart of Laguna, or the Village, as it’s called. Too awake to go home, too ashamed to see Damen, making my way through the dark, empty streets until stopping before a small, well-tended cottage, with flowering plants flanking either side of the door and a woven welcome mat placed just so, making it appear warm, friendly, completely benign.

  Only it’s not. Not even close. Now it’s more like a crime scene. And unlike the last time I was here, this time I don’t bother knocking. There’s no point. Ava’s long gone. After stealing the elixir and leaving Damen to fend for himself, she has no intention of returning.

  I unlock the door with my mind and step in, taking a quick look around before I move past the den and into the kitchen. Surprised to find the usually well-ordered room reduced to an absolute mess—the sink piled high with dirty glasses and dishes as the trash overflows to the floor. And even though I’m sure it’s not Ava who’s done this, clearly someone is here.

  I creep down the hall, peering into a series of empty rooms until I get to the indigo door at the end—the one that leads to Ava’s so-called sacred space where she used to meditate and try to reach the dimensions beyond. Opening the door just a crack and squinting into the dark, making out two sleeping figures sprawled on the floor. Skimming my hand along the wall and fruitlessly searching for a light, before remembering my ability to illuminate the room on my own—only to find the last two people I ever expected to see.

  “Rayne?” I kneel down beside her, holding my breath as she rolls over and opens one eye.

  “Oh hey, Ever.” She rubs her eyes and struggles to sit. “Only I’m not Rayne, I’m Romy. Rayne’s over there.”

  I glance at her twin at the far side of the room, noting the scowl that crosses her face the second she realizes it’s me.

  “What’re you doing here?” I ask, focusing on Romy again since she’s always been the nicer of the two.

  “We live here.” She shrugs, tucking her wrinkled white shirt into her blue plaid skirt as she gets off the floor.

  I glance between them, taking in their pale skin, large dark eyes, and straight, black, shoulder-length hair with the razor-slashed bangs, noticing how they’re both still dressed in the same private school uniforms as the first day we met. But unlike in Summerland where they always appear so clean and pristine, now they’re pretty much the opposite—sadly disheveled and completely uncared for.

  “But you can’t live here. This is Ava’s house.” I shake my head. The idea of them squatting here leaves me extremely unnerved. “Maybe you should think about going home. You know, back to Summerland?”

  “We can’t.” Rayne pulls on her kneesocks, making sure they’re of exact equal height, unintentionally providing the only real clue that helps me tell them apart. “Thanks to you, we’re stuck here forever,” she mumbles, taking a moment to glare at me.

  I glance at Romy, hoping she’ll explain. But she just shakes her head at her sister, before looking at me. “Ava’s gone.” She shrugs. “But don’t let Rayne give you the wrong impression. We’re quite happy to see you. We had a running bet on how soon you’d show.”

  My gaze darts between them, laughing nervously as I say, “Oh, really? Who won?”

  Rayne rolls her eyes and points at her sister. “She did. I was sure you’d abandoned us for good.”

  I pause, something about the way she just said that—“Wait, you mean you guys have been here this whole time?”

  “We can’t get back.” Romy shrugs. “We’ve lost our magick.”

  “Well, I’m sure I can help you return. I mean, you do want to return—right?” I look at them, seeing Rayne smirk as Romy just nods. Knowing this’ll be a lot easier than they think since all I have to do is make the portal, get them settled, then say my good-byes and make the return trip back to Laguna alone.

  “We’d like that very much,” Romy says.

  “And we’d like to leave now,” Rayne adds, eyes narrowed. “After all, it’s the very least
you can do.”

  I swallow hard. I deserve that, but I still wonder who’s more desperate for them to leave, them or me?

  I motion toward Rayne as I head for the futon, wondering why neither of them thought to sleep on it instead of the floor. “Come,” I say, glancing over my shoulder. “You sit here on my right, and Romy, you sit here.” I pat the lumpy cushion. “Now grab my hands and close your eyes, then focus on seeing the portal with all of your might. Envisioning that golden shimmer of light as though it’s before you. And as soon as the image is clear, I want you to see yourself stepping right through, knowing I’m right there beside you, keeping you safe. Okay?”

  I peek at them, seeing them nod before we go through the motions, re-creating all the right steps. But just as I step through the light and into that vast fragrant field, I open my eyes and find I’m alone.

  “Told you,” Rayne says, the second I return. Standing before me, eyes angry, accusing, small, pale hands clutching her plaid skirted hips. “Told you our magick is gone. We’re stuck here now with no way to get back. And it’s all because we tried to help you!”

  “Rayne!” Romy shakes her head at her sister, then glances at me with an apologetic look on her face.

  “Well, it’s true!” Rayne scowls. “I told you we shouldn’t risk it. I told you she wouldn’t listen. I saw it clear as day. The overwhelming possibility she’d make the wrong choice—which, I might add, she did!” She shakes her head and frowns. “It went exactly as predicted. And now we’re the ones paying the price.”