by Alyson Noel
I narrow my gaze, unsure what he means, seeing Damen now standing behind him, eyes guarded, troubled, as they look into mine. And I know he’s trying to tell me something, send a telepathic message I can’t seem to grasp. Getting only the faintest echo of sound, but unable to determine the words.
“This is it, Ever.” Roman smiles. “The moment you’ve been waiting for!” He sweeps his arms wide, motioning toward Haven as though she’s the grand prize.
I glance between him and Damen, still trying to receive Damen’s message, but nothing will come.
Roman’s eyes roaming over me, slowly taking me in, my bare feet, damp, clinging dress, wetting his lips as he says, “It’s real simple, darlin’, simple enough for even you to decipher. Remember the day you came to my house and we talked about the price?”
I glance at Damen, catching a flash of alarm, disbelief, hurt, before quickly looking away.
“Oops!” Roman lifts his shoulders and covers his mouth as he glances between us. “Sorry. Forgot your unauthorized visit was our dirty little secret. Guess you’ll just have to forgive my indiscretion, what with the life and death circumstances we’re in. So just to catch you up to speed”—he nods at Ava and Damen—“Ever swung by my house looking to broker a deal. Seems she’s extremely eager to bed her hunky boyfriend.” He laughs, his gaze landing on Damen as he heads behind the bar, reaching for a cut crystal goblet and filling it with elixir as Damen fights to stay calm.
I take a deep breath but stay put. Knowing it won’t make the slightest bit of difference if Roman’s dead or alive, either way he’s still in control. His game. His rules. And I can’t help but wonder how long he’s been at it—how long I’ve been fooling myself that I’m actually making progress when I’m just blindly following along. Just like the vision he showed me at school, all of us are under his rule.
“Ever—” Damen looks at me, telepathy no longer working, forced to voice his thoughts to the room. “Is this true?”
I swallow hard and look away, not looking at either of them when I say, “Just get to the point.”
“Always in such a hurry.” Roman shakes his head and clucks his tongue against his cheek. “Seriously, Ever, for someone with nothing but time, it doesn’t make the slightest bit of sense. But fine, I’ll play, so tell me, any clues, any ideas as to where this all leads?”
I gaze at Haven, barely breathing, barely hanging on, unwilling to admit that I have no idea what he wants, no clue as to what’s going on.
“Remember the day when you came to see me at the store?”
Damen shifts, I can feel his energy shift, but I just shake my head, glancing over my shoulder, eyes narrowed when I say, “I went to see Haven, you just happened to be there.”
“Details.” Roman waves it away. “It’s the riddle I’m getting at. Remember the riddle I presented you with?”
I sigh, grasping Haven’s hand in mine—cold, dry, and still—not a good sign.
“Give the people what they want. Remember when I said that?” He pauses, waiting for me to respond, but when I don’t he adds, “The question is—what does it mean, Ever? Exactly what do the people want? Any clues?” He lifts his brow and waits, nodding when he adds, “Try stepping out of yourself for a moment and take a more populist view. Go ahead, give it a whirl, try it on for size, see how it fits. It’s quite unlike the elitist view you and Damen hold, I assure you of that. No hoarding of the gifts where I stand—I share them freely. Or at least with those I deem deserving.”
I turn, turn until I’m facing him, suddenly beginning to understand. Voice hoarse, barely discernible when I say, “No!”
Glancing between Roman and Haven as the truth of what he wants, the price he insists on, becomes clear.
No!
My gaze locked on Roman’s, as Ava and Damen remain silent, clueless as to what’s truly transpiring here.
“I won’t do it,” I tell him. “There’s no way you can make me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, luv. Where’s the fun in that?” He smiles, slow, lazy, like the Cheshire cat. “Just like you can’t make me do your bidding with pathetic attempts at mind melds and the dark forces you so recently called upon.” He laughs, wagging his finger at me as he adds, “You’ve been a very naughty girl, Ever. Messing with magick you don’t understand. Never realized when I sold the book all those years ago it’d end up in your hands. Or maybe I did?” He shakes his head. “Who’s to say?”
My eyes meet his, the truth of his words hitting me at full speed. Jude. Is he the one who sold the book to Jude? And if so, are they in this together?
“Why are you doing this?” I narrow my gaze. No longer caring that Damen’s now privy to my long list of betrayals, or what Ava’s thinking off in her corner, focusing only on him and me—as though we’re alone in this creepy, Godforsaken room.
“Well, it’s really rather simple.” He smiles. “You’re so set on drawing lines, setting yourself apart—so now’s your chance to really lay it down, now’s your chance to prove you’re nothing like me. And if you succeed, if you can prove beyond a doubt that we’re nothing alike, well then, I’m fully prepared to give you what you want. I’ll hand over the antidote to the antidote, the cure to the cure, and you and Damen can proceed to the honeymoon suite and have at it. It’s what you’ve dreamed of all along, right? It’s what you’ve been scheming for all this time. And all you have to do to get it is to let your friend die. If you let Haven die, the happily ever after is yours, satisfaction guaranteed—more or less.”
“No.” I shake my head. “No!”
“No to the antidote or the happily ever after? Which is it?” He glances between his watch and Haven, smiling as he adds, “Tick-tock, time to decide.”
I move toward Haven, her breath coming hollow, frail, as Ava sits nearby, shaking her head, and Damen—my eternal love—my soul mate—the guy I’ve failed in so many ways—pleads with me not to do the very thing I’m inclined to.
“If you hesitate for too long, she dies. And if you bring her back, then, well, it can get a little messy, as you well know. But if you save her now, just slip her the elixir, well, she’ll wake up feeling fine. Better than fine. And, the best part is, she’ll stay that way forever. Which, after all, is exactly what the people want, isn’t it? Eternal youth and beauty. Everlasting good health and vitality. No old age, no illness, no fear of death. An infinite horizon with no end in sight. So, which will it be, Ever? Stick to your high-minded, elitist, self-serving views, prove you’re nothing like me, continue to hoard all the goods, say good-bye to your friend—and the antidote is yours. Or—” He smiles, gaze fixed on mine. “Save your friend. Give her the backstage pass to the sort of strength and beauty she could only dream of before. The very thing she’s always longed for, the very thing everyone longs for. You don’t have to say good-bye. It’s entirely up to you. But, like I said, daylight’s burning, so you might wanna hurry.”
I take in her pale, fragile face, knowing I’m responsible, completely to blame. Vaguely aware of Damen beside me, urging, “Ever, baby, please listen, you can’t do it. You can’t save her.” Unwilling to look at him when he adds, “You have to let her go—it’s not about us—not about us being together—we’ll find a way, I promised you that. You know the risk this brings—you know you can’t do this—not after experiencing the Shadow-land,” he whispers. “You can’t resign her to that.”
“Ooh! The Shadowland—sounds scary!” Roman laughs and shakes his head. “Don’t tell me you’re still meditating, mate? Still trekking the Himalayas searching for meaning?”
I swallow hard and look away, ignoring them both. Mind crowded with arguments, both for and against, as Ava adds, “Ever. Damen’s right.”
I glare at her, the woman who betrayed me in the very worst way. Leaving Damen vulnerable and exposed after promising to look after him, a willing partner in Roman’s game.
“I know you don’t trust me, but it’s not what you think. Listen, Ever, please, I don’t have time t
o explain, but if you won’t listen to me, then listen to Damen, he knows what he says, you can’t save your friend, you have to let her go—”
“Spoken like a true rogue,” I hiss, remembering how she took off with the elixir, which I’ve no doubt she drank.
“It’s not what you think,” she says, “it’s nothing like that.”
But I’m no longer listening, my attention returning to Roman, now by my side, jiggling the goblet of elixir, the liquid flashing, sparking, as he swirls it around and around, warning me the time has come, it’s time for me to choose.
“Haven wanted her fortune told, and who better to tell it than you, Avalon? Too bad Jude’s not here, or we could really have ourselves a party—or wake—depending on how things work out. What happened, Ever, you two looked pretty tight last time I checked.”
I swallow hard, my friend now hanging by a string. A string I can either cut—or—
“Hate to rush you, but it’s the moment of truth. Please don’t disappoint Haven, she was so looking forward to her reading. So what’s it going to be? What do the cards say? Does she live—or does she die? The future is yours to decide.”
“Ever,” Damen says, hand on my arm, veil of energy hovering insistently between us, one more reminder of my mounting mistakes. “You can’t do it, please. You know it’s not right. As hard as this is, you’ve no choice but to say good-bye.”
“Oh, there’s a choice.” Roman jiggles the bottle again. “Just how far are you willing to go to maintain your ideals and get the one thing you most want in the world?”
“Ever, please.” Ava leans toward me. “This is all wrong, it’s against the law of nature. You have to let her go.”
I close my eyes. Unable to act—unable to move—I can’t do this—I can’t make this choice—he can’t make me do this—
Roman’s voice hovering over me when he says, “So I guess that’s it then.” He sighs and moves away. “Good for you, Ever, you proved your point. You’re nothing like me. Nothing at all. You’re a true elitist, a person of lofty ideals, higher mind, and now you get to sleep with your boyfriend too! Well done! And to think all it cost is the life of your friend. Your poor, sad, lost friend, who only wanted what everyone else wants—what you already have and are in the perfect position to share. Congratulations—should I say?”
He heads for the hall as I kneel before Haven, face streaming with tears as I gaze at my friend. My sad, lost, confused friend who didn’t deserve any of this, who’s always paying the price for befriending me. Damen’s and Ava’s murmuring voices beside me, a lullaby of promises, promising me I’ll get through it, that I did the right thing, that it’ll all be okay.
And then I see it, the silver cord that attaches the body to the soul. Having heard about it but never actually seeing it until now. Watching as it stretches so thin it’s ready to snap—send my friend far from here and straight into Summerland—
I spring to my feet, ripping the bottle from Roman’s grasp, and forcing Haven to drink.
Immune to the cries all around me, Ava’s piercing gasp, Damen begging me to stop, and Roman’s one-man applause accompanied by his loud vulgar laugh.
But I don’t care about that.
I only care about her.
Haven.
I can’t let her go.
Can’t let her die.
Can’t say good-bye.
Cradling her head in my arms and making her drink—the color instantly returning to her cheeks as she opens her eyes and gazes at me.
“What the—?” She struggles to sit, and looks all around. Squinting when she glances between me, Ava, Damen, and Roman, and says, “Where am I?”
I stare at her, mouth open, but with no idea what to say. Knowing that this is how Damen must’ve felt with me, only this is much worse.
He didn’t know about the death of the soul.
I did.
“Damen and Ever decided to join us, luv, and guess what? The future’s looking brighter than ever!” Roman swoops in beside me and helps her to her feet, winking at me when he adds, “You weren’t feeling so well, so Ever gave you some juice, thinking a little sugar might perk you right up—and damn if it didn’t work. And now, Ava, be a luv, and go fetch us some tea, would ya? There’s a new pot on the stove.”
Ava gets to her feet, willing me to meet her gaze as she heads for the hall. But I won’t. Can’t. Can’t look at anyone. Not after what I’ve just done.
“Glad to know you’re on board, Ever.” Roman pauses just shy of the door. “It’s like I said—you and I—we’re the same. Bound to each other for all of eternity. And not because of the spell, darlin’—but because it’s our fate—our destiny. Think of me as yet another soul mate.” He laughs, voice a whisper when he adds, “There, there, luv, don’t look so shocked. I, for one, am not the least bit surprised. You’ve never once strayed from the script. At least not so far.”
forty-nine
Damen leans toward me, his gaze like a hand on my arm, warm, inviting, luring me in. “Ever, please, look at me,” he says.
But I just continue to stare at the ocean, the water so black I can’t even see it.
Black ocean, dark moon, and a friend who’s headed for the Shadowland, thanks to me.
I climb out of his car and head for the edge, staring down the steep cliff at the darkness below. Drawn to the pull of his energy as he comes up behind me, hand on my shoulder, pulling me close to his chest as he says, “We’ll get through this—you’ll see.”
I turn, needing to see him, wondering how he can say such a thing. “How?” I start, voice so frail it’s as though it belongs to somebody else. “How will we do that? You gonna make her an amulet and insist she wear it every day?”
He shakes his head, eyes boring into mine when he says, “How can I make Haven wear hers when I can’t even convince you to wear yours?” His fingers drift to my neck, my chest, tracing the space where the crystals should be. “What happened?”
I turn, unwilling to look even worse in his eyes by explaining how I removed it, so overconfident in my misguided spell-casting attempt I set it aside.
“What am I supposed to tell her?” I whisper. “How can I possibly explain what I’ve done? How do you tell someone that you’ve given them eternal life, but if by chance they die, then their soul will be lost?”
Damen’s lips looming close, warming my ear when he says, “We’ll find a way—we’ll—”
I shake my head and move away, staring into the black, avoiding his gaze. “How can you say that? How can you—”
He comes up beside me, his mere presence heating my skin as he says, “How can I what?”
I swallow hard, unable to say it, to put into words all that I’ve done. Allowing myself to be pulled into his arms, held tightly to his chest, wishing I could crawl right inside him, curl up next to his heart and stay there forever—the safest shelter I could ever know.
“How can I forgive a girl who loves her friend so much she can’t bear to let her go?” He tucks my hair behind my ear and lifts my chin, making me face him. “How can I forgive a girl who sacrificed the one thing she’s wanted all this time, all these years? Forfeiting the immediate hope of us being together so her friend could live? How can I forgive her, you ask?” He looks at me, eyes searching mine. “It’s easy. Did I not make a similar choice when I first made you drink? And yet, what you did was so much bigger, motivated only by love, while my own actions weren’t quite so pure. I was far more interested in alleviating my suffering.” He shakes his head. “Convincing myself I did it for you, when the truth is, I was selfish and greedy, always interfering, never allowing you to choose for yourself. I brought you back for me—it’s clear to me now.”
I swallow hard, wishing I could believe him—that my decision was noble. But this is different. What I did was entirely different. I knew about the Shadowland, he didn’t.
Looking at him as I say, “And that’s all fine until she’s in trouble again, then the death of her soul is o
n me.”
He gazes past me, out to an invisible ocean sending a continuous crash of waves to the shore. Both of us knowing there’s nothing more to say. No words that can remedy this.
“It wasn’t—” I pause, feeling stupid for bringing it up now, in light of everything else, but still wanting him to know. “It wasn’t what you think—about me and Jude—that day on the beach—” I shake my head. “It wasn’t what it seemed.” His jaw tightens, his grip loosens, but I bring him back to me, having much more to say. “I think he’s an immortal. A rogue, like Roman.” Damen stares at me, eyes narrowed when I add, “I saw his tattoo, right on the small of his back—” Then realizing how that sounds, that I was actually in a position to get a close-up look at his bare lower back, I add, “He was in his trunks and we were in the spa—” I shake my head, this isn’t helping. “It was a whole thing for Miles’s going-away party—and—anyway, when Ava called, he turned and reached for the phone and I saw it. The snake eating its own tail. The Ouroboros. Just like Drina had, like the one Roman wears on his neck. Same thing.”
“Is it just like Roman’s?”
I squint, unsure what he means.
“Did it flash? Move? Fade in and out of view?”
I swallow hard, and shake my head, wondering what difference it could make. I mean, sure I only saw it for a few seconds, no more than a glimpse, but still—
He sighs and moves away, sitting on the hood of his car when he says, “Ever, the Ouroboros itself isn’t evil. Far from it. Roman and his tribe have distorted the meaning. It’s actually an ancient alchemical symbol, signifying creation out of destruction, eternal life—that sort of thing. Plenty of people have ’em, and the only thing it proves is that Jude has a thing for body art. Body art, and you.”
