Dark Flame

by Alyson Noel

  I take a deep breath and casually push my hair off my face. “No, I just—” I pause, wondering if I should tell him about my trail ride to no-man’s-land, but quickly deciding against it—wondering if maybe what I witnessed was more a reflection of me—my inner state—than an actual place. “I, uh, I just hung around and waited.” I shrug. “I mean, I got a little bored and definitely thought about leaving and all, but I also wanted to make sure he could find his way home, so I—um—I hung out.” I nod, a little too forcefully, in a way that’s not even close to being convincing.

  The two of us exchanging a long, painful look, both of us aware that I’m lying—that I just gave what is quite possibly one of my worst performances ever. And for some strange, unknown reason, he grants me a shrug so final, so dismissive, I can’t help but feel disappointed. That small, sane, glimmer of me wishing he’d find a way to coax it out of me, so we could be done with all this. But he just continues to look at me, until I turn away and say, “Nice to know you’ll still visit Summerland on your own, even though you refuse to go there with me.” Knowing he doesn’t deserve that, but still, there it is.

  He grabs hold of my swing and pulls me to him, jaw clenched, fingers squeezing the chain, words coming from between gritted teeth when he says, “Ever, I didn’t go there for me—I went there for you.”

  I swallow hard, and as much as I want to look away, I can’t, my gaze is locked on his.

  “I tried to find a way to reach you—to help you. You’ve been so distant—not at all like yourself, and it’s been days since we’ve spent any real time together. It’s pretty clear you’re doing your best to avoid me, you never want to be with me anymore, at least not here on the earth plane.”

  “That’s not true!” The words come out too high-pitched and shaky to ever be believed, but I forge ahead anyway. “I mean, apparently you haven’t noticed, but I’ve been working a lot lately. So far my summer’s been spent shelving books, working the register, and giving psychic readings under the code name of Avalon. So, yeah, maybe I want to spend my spare time indulging myself in a little escape—is that so bad?” I press my lips together and look him right in the eye, knowing most of that was true and wondering if he’ll call me on the parts that aren’t.

  But he just shakes his head, refusing to be swayed. “And now that Jude’s better—now that you’ve healed him with a trip to Summerland—I can’t help but wonder what excuse you’ll find next.”

  I suck in my breath and avert my gaze, surprised to hear him answer like that, and the truth is, I have no idea how to respond, no idea what comes next. Kicking a small pebble with the toe of my shoe, unable to confide, too tired and beaten to come up with anything else.

  “You know, you used to be as bright and shining here on the earth plane as you were today in Summerland.” I swallow hard and bow my head, hardly believing my ears when he goes on to say, “I know about the magick, Ever.” His voice low, almost a whisper, though the words reverberate like a scream. “I know you’re in way over your head. And I wish you’d let me help you.”

  I stiffen. My whole body stiffens as my heart crashes violently against my chest.

  “I know the signs—the jitteriness, the lying, the weight loss, the—diminished appearance. You’re an addict, Ever. Addicted to the dark side of magick. Jude never should’ve gotten you into this.” He shakes his head, his gaze never once leaving me. “But the sooner you admit it, the sooner I can help make you better.”

  “It’s not—” I struggle to speak, but the words won’t come. The monster’s in control, dead set on blowing us apart. “Isn’t that why you went to the Great Halls of Learning? So you could help me?” I look at him, seeing the way his expression changes to one of hurt surprise. But it’s not enough to stop the beast, nope, not even close. This train is just now pulling out of the station and still has a long way to go. “So tell me, what did you see? What did the almighty akashic records share with you?”

  “Nothing,” he says, voice tired, full of defeat. “I didn’t learn a thing. Apparently when the problem is of the person’s own making, access is forbidden where others are concerned. I’m banned from interfering in any way, shape, or form.” He shrugs. “It’s all part of the journey I guess. Still, one thing is clear, Ever. Last Thursday night, Roman mentioned a spell—and ever since Jude gave you that book nothing’s been the same—with you—between us—everything’s changed.” He looks at me, waiting for confirmation, but it won’t come, can’t come. “You two share a long and complicated history—and it’s quite clear he’s not over you yet. And I can’t help but feel that he’s getting in the way—that magick is getting in the way, and, Ever, it’ll destroy you if you’re not careful—I’ve seen it happen before.”

  My eyes search his face, knowing he’s trying to send me an image, a message of some sort, but that strange foreign pulse is at full thrum—the dark flame burning bright—weakening my powers to where I can no longer grasp Damen’s thoughts, his energy, his tingle and heat—can’t grasp anything at all.

  He moves toward me, gripping my shoulders long before I can blink, gazing into my eyes with determination and purpose, fully resolved to deal with this once and for all.

  But as much as I want to, I can’t let him in, can’t let him see me like this. The revulsion he’ll see in my eyes isn’t coming from me, it’s the beast, but he won’t know the difference.

  And even though it kills me to do it, even though it only proves that he’s right, that I really am dangerously and recklessly out of control, I still just shake my head and walk away, all the way to the curb where my car’s parked.

  Calling over my shoulder to say, “Sorry, Damen, but you’re wrong. Dead wrong. I’m just overworked and overtired, just like I keep telling you. And if you ever feel like cutting me some slack—well, you know where to find me.”

  twenty

  I don’t even make it out of the gate before my car is gone, and my butt slams against the pavement so hard and fast it’s a moment before I realize it vanished right out from under me. I gaze around in a daze, trying to determine how that could’ve happened, when a speeding Mercedes comes barreling toward me, nearly running me over as its driver honks, flips me the bird, and yells a slew of obscenities my way.

  Scrambling to the side, I shut my eyes tightly, determined to manifest a new car, something more powerful and quicker this time. Imagining a flaming red Lamborghini, and seeing it so clearly before me, I’m shocked to open my eyes and find its not there. And after taking a deep breath and trying again, first aiming for a Porsche, then a Miata like the one I have at home, it still doesn’t work so I try for a silver Prius like the one Munoz drives, followed by a Smart Car—but nothing comes. Nothing at all. And I’m so desperate for wheels by this point, I’ll happily settle for a scooter, but when I can’t even manifest that, I half jokingly try for a pair of Rollerblades instead. Discovering just how bad it’s gotten for me when all I end up with is a pair of white leather boots with two strips of metal where the wheels should be. And that’s when I decide to run instead. Happy to know that if nothing else, I still have my own strength and speed.

  My feet pounding the asphalt, heels slamming easily, effortlessly, as I make my way along the curving, swooping hills of Coast Highway, fully intent on heading straight home only to run right past the turn and head elsewhere instead. Somewhere better. Somewhere that has everything I need—everything I could ever desire. So single-minded in my vision, so determined to reach my destination no matter the cost, I move faster, quicker, and in no time at all, I’m there.

  Right outside Roman’s door.

  My body shaking with longing, anticipation, as the dark flame inside me burns so brightly it threatens to incinerate my insides. Closing my eyes and sensing him, feeling him.

  Roman’s inside.

  And all I have to do is push the door open and he’s mine.

  In one fluid movement, I’m in. The door slamming so hard against the wall, the entire house reverberates fr
om the force, as I slink down the hall, quickly, silently, finding Roman in his den, lounging on the couch, arms spread wide, face expectant, as though he’s been waiting for me.

  “Ever.” He nods, not the least bit surprised, not missing a beat. “You really have an issue with doors, don’t you? Is that another one I’ll have to replace?”

  I move toward him without hesitation, his name a purr on my lips as my body anticipates the chill of his gaze.

  He nods, slowly, steadily, as though listening to a rhythm heard only by him. Allowing his Ouroboros tattoo to flash in and out of view, his voice low and measured, when he says, “Nice of you to drop by darlin’, but truth be told, I liked you better the last time you came over. You know, when you stood outside my window in that fetching see-through nightie of yours?” His lips lift at the corner as he slips a cigarette between them, sparks the tip, and takes a long, thoughtful drag. Carefully blowing a succession of perfectly timed smoke rings my way when he adds, “As it stands now—well, you’re hardly at your finest. In fact, you’re looking rather—peckish, aren’t you?”

  I rub my lips together, moistening them with my tongue as I attempt to comb my fingers through my sad snarl of hair. What used to be a glossy thick mane I was inordinately proud of is now reduced to a dull, ratted nest of split ends. I should’ve done more, should’ve made some sort of effort, worn some perfume, dabbed on a little concealer, taken the time to manifest some new clothes that actually fit my newly shrunken form. Cringing under the weight of his glare, the way it rakes over my emaciated body, clearly far from impressed with what I have to offer.

  “Seriously, darlin’, if you’re gonna come crashin’ your way in ’ere like that, then you need to look a little more presentable. I’m not Damen, luv. I won’t go shaggin’ just any ol’ thing. I’ve got me standards, you know?”

  I close my eyes, willing to do whatever it takes to please him, to be with him, and knowing I’ve succeeded when I see the glazed look that comes over his face.

  “Drina!” He whispers, cigarette tumbling from his lips and burning a hole in the carpet as his eyes drink me in. Seeing creamy pale skin, pink rosy lips, and a blaze of coppery red hair that falls over my shoulders, as I kneel down before him, extinguish the cigarette between my long, tapered fingers, and place my hands on his knees.

  “My God—it—it can’t be—is it really—?” He shakes his head and rubs his eyes, gazing into ones the color of emeralds and wanting so badly to believe.

  I close my eyes, enjoying the feel of him, the chill of him, sliding my hands ever higher, up over his knees, all the way to his thighs, so close to getting what I want, moving higher still, and then—

  Haven is behind me. Her eyes blazing, hands curled into fists, and I can’t help but wonder just how long she’s been watching, since I didn’t even hear her come in, didn’t even sense her for that matter. But then, Haven’s of no real consequence here. She’s merely the annoying barrier that’s got a bad habit of getting in my way. One I can easily obliterate.

  “What the fug do you think you’re doing, Ever?” She moves toward me, her harsh, narrowed gaze raking over me, meant to intimidate, but it won’t work, can’t work, she just doesn’t know it yet.

  “Ever?” Roman squints, his eyes darting between us, unable to see what she sees. “What’re you talking about, luv, this isn’t Ever—it’s—”

  But that’s all it takes, the mere suggestion of her words and he’s able to see me, see right through the façade I created.

  “Bloody hell!” He shouts, pushing me away so hard I fly across the room, over a table, and into a chair, before I land next to where Haven is standing. “What kind of crap move you trying to pull, anyway?” He scowls, furious at having been played like that.

  I swallow hard, my eyes never once leaving his, as Haven moves toward me in a swirl of black leather and lace, her frosty cold breath slamming my cheek as the bite of her nails cuts into my wrist. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” she says, the words ground out from behind tightly clenched teeth. “Seriously, Ever, does Damen know you’re here?”

  Damen.

  The name stirring something—something down deep. Something that causes my hand to clutch at my amulet as I take a tiny step back.

  Her gaze scathing, face creased with fury, when she says, “You really can’t stand it, can you? Can’t stand for me to have something you don’t.” She shakes her head. “Warning me against Roman, trying to scare me away so you could have him all to yourself. Well, I’ve got news for you, Ever—I’m changed. Changed in ways you can’t even begin to imagine.” And though I try to yank my hand away, try to step back and break free, her grip’s too strong, too determined, and if her eyes are any indication, she’s far from through with me. “You’ve no business here. You shouldn’t have come. I don’t want you here, Roman doesn’t want you here—can’t you see what a joke you’ve become?” She focuses on my acnesplattered chin, my newly sunken chest—the exact opposite of her porcelain-skinned perfection and well-defined curves. “Why don’t you just turn around and go back to wherever you came from, okay? I live by my own rules now, and this is how it goes: You don’t get the heck out, you try to overstay your visit and do something crazy, and you’re the one who’s gonna get hurt.” Her fingers snake around my wrist ’til they’re flush with her thumb, her eyes never once straying from mine. “You look like crap. A snaggle-haired, zit-faced wreck.” She shakes her head in a shiny whirl of black wavy strands and platinum-tinged bangs. “What happened, Ever? Damen change his mind about wanting to spend the rest of eternity with you and cut off your elixir supply?”

  I open my mouth, wanting to speak, but no words will come. So I switch my gaze to Roman, begging, pleading for him to step in and help me, but he just waves it away, his eyes signaling he’s finished with me. Now that he knows I’m not Drina, I’m on my own.

  Left with no other choice, I raise my wrist, the one she’s gripping so hard it’s gone white and numb, and flip her around so suddenly, so unexpectedly, her back’s flush to my chest before she can fight it.

  My lips tipped toward her ear when I say, “Sorry, but I just won’t tolerate that kind of talk.” Feeling her struggle against me, trying to break free, but it’s no use, no one beats the monster, no one but—

  My gaze wanders to the gilt-framed mirror hanging before us, struck by our image—Haven’s hate-filled gaze a perfect match for my own—with my own face so angry, so distorted so—monstrous—I hardly recognize it. Finally able to see what they’ve seen all along, the complete degradation of what I’ve become.

  My fingers loosen, just enough to allow her to break free. Spinning on me in a cloud of fury, fist held high, a map of all seven chakras held firmly in mind.

  But before she can complete the swing, I’m gone. The excruciatingly loud crack of her back hitting the wall lingering behind as I push her off and flee for the street.

  Assuring myself she’ll be fine, just fine, immortals always heal.

  But no longer sure if I will.

  twenty-one

  When I reach the store, I expect to find Jude, but instead the door is locked and the sign flipped to closed. And after trying and failing to unlock it with my mind, I fumble through my bag, searching for the key with fingers so shaky, I end up dropping it twice before I finally get in. Whizzing past the bookshelves and CD racks so quickly, I forget about the fixture of angel figurines to my right and slam it so hard they crash to the ground in a pile of broken pieces and heavy shards of glass. But I don’t stop to fix it. Don’t even give it a second look. I just keep going, making my way into the back room and over to the desk where I pull out the chair and completely collapse.

  Slumped over the desk, my forehead pressed to the wood, as I fight to steady my pulse and slow my breath. Horrified by my actions, by how low I’ve sunk. The scene from ten minutes ago repeating again and again in my head.

  I stay like that for a while, until my skin starts to cool and my mind starts to cle
ar, and when I finally lift my head and take a good look around, I notice the calendar’s been torn off the wall and propped up before me. Today’s date circled in red along with a question mark, my name underlined right beside it, and the words, Maybe this’ll work? written in Jude’s messy scrawl.

  And just like that, I get it. The solution I’ve been waiting for is now, thanks to Jude, right within my reach. And it’s so unbelievably obvious I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before. Gaping at Jude’s sloppy circle, and the smaller, printed circle within it illustrating the moon and its phases. And the fact that this one is completely colored in signals that today, the moon is going dark.

  Hecate is rising again.

  And suddenly, I know exactly what to do.

  Instead of waiting for the moon to go light and asking the goddess to cancel the queen like the twins had me do (which, by the way, probably only served to piss off the queen which is why it failed so miserably), I should’ve waited for today, for the moon to go dark again, so I could head right back to the source—pick up right where I started—with Hecate, ruler of the underworld—and forge an alliance with her.

  I reach into the drawer, bypassing The Book of Shadows, and rummaging around for some of the supplies that I’ll need. Making a mental promise to make it up to Jude later, as I cram an assortment of crystals, herbs, and candles into my bag before slinging it over my shoulder and heading for the beach—the only place I can think of that’ll provide not only the privacy I seek but the body of water required for the ritual bath that I need.

  And in no time at all I’m standing at the edge of the cliff, toes curled around the rock as I gaze out at an ocean so dark it blends with the sky. Recalling the same sort of night just one month before, when I came here with Damen, so sure I couldn’t possibly sink any lower than turning my best friend into an immortal, completely clueless to the fact that I was about to take it even further.