Night Star

by Alyson Noel

  She scowls, scowls and rolls her eyes. Taking an unsteady step toward me when she says, “Oh, I’ve had lots of hugs lately—don’t you worry about that. And if I find myself in need of another, I can always get one from Jude here.” She leers at him, her face so creepy, her gaze so predatory, I can feel his energy contract from behind me. “Oh, and as for the lack of drama and flair, don’t you worry, Ever, there will be plenty of that. Besides, it’s not the stage that matters but the scene that plays upon it. And even though I’m not about to reveal any plot spoilers, because, let’s face it, it’s gonna be way more fun to surprise you, let’s just say that in the end, I’m definitely going to make you pay for all of the horrible things that you’ve done to me, including your latest—”

  I squint, having no idea what she’s getting at.

  But she just frowns and says, “Um, duh. You think I don’t know it was you who broke into my house and stole my elixir?”

  I gaze at her, shocked that she’d even think it was me.

  “You think I don’t keep track of my supply?” Her voice rises in outrage. “You think I wouldn’t notice a nearly empty fridge? You think I’m an idiot?” She shakes her head. “It’s pretty obvious why you did it. It’s the only way you think you can be equal to me. But news flash, Ever, you will never be equal me. Never. And drinking my elixir won’t change that.”

  “Why would I want your elixir when I already have my own?” I squint, aware of Jude still behind me, aware of the way his muscles tense and his energy wavers, two very bad signs that he’s planning something foolish that I can’t let him go through with.

  I push back against him, trying to keep Haven from noticing while still using enough force that he’ll hopefully get the message to just lie low and let me handle this.

  “Face it, Ever.” Her eyes move over mine as her limbs begin to shake. “Mine is better, stronger, and far, far superior to yours. But it still won’t help you, no matter how much you drink, you’ll never match me.”

  “Why would I want to, when it’s turned you into this?” My voice is scornful, scathing. “Seriously, Haven, just look at yourself.” I motion toward her bloodshot eyes, twitchy fingers, and scary pale face. Drawing a line with my finger all the way down her skinny, shrunken form and back up again. And suddenly, after I really do look at her, I realize I can’t do this anymore. Can’t keep this up no matter what she’s threatened to do.

  This is Haven.

  My old friend Haven.

  The one I used to hang out with, laugh with. The only one besides Miles who was willing to let me sit with her on my very first day.

  She’s clearly in trouble, clearly needs help, and it’s up to me to try to reach her, to help her, to try to dissuade her from what she’s about to do before it’s too late and I lose her forever.

  “Haven, please.” I lift my palms before me, softening my tone along with my gaze. Wanting to make it clear that I’m switching gears, that I’m sincere, that I mean no harm here. “It doesn’t need to be this way. You don’t have to do this. We can stop right here, right now. What you’re planning to do will only take a terrible tragedy and make it even worse. So please, please, at least think about that.”

  I take a deep breath, filling myself with all the light I can hold before exhaling slowly and sending it to her. Cocooning her in soft, soothing waves of green healing energy, watching as it hovers, attempting to penetrate, only to bounce right back—repelled by her hate-filled, rage-fueled exterior.

  “It’s not too late to call a truce,” I say, keeping my voice low, steady, as though talking her down from the ledge, and hoping it’ll work to calm Jude as well—keep him from going forward with whatever crazy suicidal act he has planned. “You’re not looking so good. You’ve lost all control. Take it from someone who’s been there, it doesn’t have to be like this, there’s a way out, and I’d really like to help you find it, if you’ll let me.”

  But despite my calm, soothing words, she laughs in my face. The sound harsh, abrasive, her gaze dancing crazily, unable to hold still, hold it together, when she says, “You? Help me? Please.” She rolls her eyes and bobs her head from side to side. “Since when have you ever helped me? All you ever do is take from me. Over and over again. But help me? Yeah, right. You’ve got to be joking.”

  “Fine.” I shrug, determined to get past her words, to get through to her, to stop her from self-destructing. “If you feel you can’t trust me, then let someone else help you. You still have a family, you know. You still have friends. Real friends. People who care about you, unlike the ones you’ve manipulated into being your friends.”

  She looks at me, blinking rapidly, swaying from side to side ever so slightly. Thrusting her hand deep into her bag, fumbling for her elixir but finding only a growing supply of empty, drained bottles she tosses all around her.

  And I know I have to hurry, hurry up and get to it. We don’t have much time, she’ll erupt at any second. My words are rushed when I say, “How about Miles—he’d be more than willing to help you. And your little brother, Austin, he totally looks up to you, he depends on you. Heck, I bet even Josh is still crazy about you. Didn’t you tell me he even wrote you a song in an attempt to win you back? Which means I seriously doubt he’s over you yet. I’m sure he’d be there in a heartbeat if you called him. And—” I start to mention her parents, but I stop just as quickly. They’ve never really been there for her, and that’s a pretty good part of the reason why we find ourselves here.

  But I hesitate for too long, long enough for her to glare at me and say, “And who, Ever? Who are you gonna add to that list? The housekeeper?” She rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “Sorry, but it’s way past all that. You robbed me of the one and only person I ever truly cared about, the one and only person who truly cared back. And now you’re going to pay for that. Both of you are going to pay for that. Because make no mistake, neither one of you will be leaving here in anything other than a body bag! Or, in your case, Ever, a dustbin.”

  “It won’t bring him back.” But the words come too late. I’ve lost her. She’s gone. No longer listening. Having already drifted deep into the darkest recesses of her own troubled mind.

  I can tell by the way her gaze goes hazy, by the way her whole body stills as she tunes in to the red-hot rage flaming within.

  I can tell by the way the walls start to shake.

  By the way the books begin to fall from the shelves.

  By the way a flock of angel figurines soar through the room and crash into the walls before splintering toward the ground.

  There’s no getting through to her.

  No turning back.

  She stands before me, eyes blazing, hair lifting, as her entire body trembles with fury. Fists clenched tightly as she rises up onto her toes and reaches for Jude.

  So I start to say: Run!

  Start to say: Make the portal and get the heck out of here!

  But before I can get to the words he’s already leaped out from behind me.

  Already charged her.

  Already foolishly gone ahead with his plan to protect me at the expense of himself.

  And as I reach for him, desperate to stop him from going any further, Haven reaches for me.

  Snapping the amulet right off my neck, her face contorted, eyes burning bright, as she smiles and says, “So, Ever, how you gonna defend yourself now?”

  twenty-five

  She dangles the amulet before me, the crystals glinting, taunting, leaving me vulnerable, exposed, defenseless, and bare. Tossing the amulet over her shoulder as the sickening shrill of her laughter echoes through the room.

  Jude clamors, hands and feet grasping, at the ready, but he’s no match for her. With barely a flick of her wrist, she’s shoved him aside, paying no notice as he flies across the store and crashes straight into the wall.

  Paying no notice to the horrible sound of bones snapping and popping as he crumbles to the floor in a sad broken heap.

  But as much as I long
to run to his side to see if he’s okay, I don’t do it. Can’t do it. That’ll only lead her to follow, and I can’t afford to let her get anywhere near him. For his safety, I need to keep her focused on me.

  Still, I shoot him a look, mentally urging him to make the portal, to hurry up and do it while he still can, hoping he can somehow hear me. Unable to tell if his refusal to comply is due to the severity of his injuries, the gruesome mask of agony he wears on his face, the trickle of blood that flows from his mouth, or the fact that he refuses to leave me with her, determined to be there for me, no matter the cost to him.

  She moves toward me, striving for slow and intimidating but nailing unsteady and shaky instead. Which, truth be told, is far more nerve-wracking than if she moved with purpose. Making it impossible to read her energy, to guess what she’ll do next, when she doesn’t even know yet herself.

  She takes a swing, her fist rising, arcing, ’til it centers on me. But I duck just as quickly, moving right out from under it as I make for the other side of the room. Prompting her to turn and go after me again, tongue lodged against the inside of her cheek, her rage-fueled energy growing and expanding in a way that causes the lights to flicker, the floor to buckle, and all the glass fixtures, including the counter, to shatter and splinter.

  Following me clear to the other side of the room as she says, “Nice try, Ever. But trust me, you’re only delaying the inevitable. Every time you evade me, you just make it more fun. Still, I’m in no hurry, I can play this all day if you want. But you should know that the longer you drag this out, the longer he”—she hitches her thumb over her shoulder in the general direction of where Jude lies in a barely-breathing heap—“well, the longer he’ll suffer.”

  My teeth grind together, as I press my lips tightly. I’m done trying to reason with her. I did all I could. And now it’s time to put my training to use.

  She charges me again, but she’s so off balance, I just step to the side at the very last moment, causing her to crash into a CD display in a way that sends her skittering across the floor right along with them. Landing hard on a pile of jagged shards of glass she broke earlier, causing a spray of blood to spatter the walls as they slice deeply into her.

  But she just laughs and rolls onto her back, taking a moment to pluck the pieces from her torn flesh, her eyes glinting as she watches the cuts mend, picks herself up, brushes herself off, and faces me again.

  “How does it feel to know you’re gonna die soon?” she asks, her voice raspy, ragged, revealing the effects of her efforts.

  But I just look at her, shoulders lifting as I say, “I don’t know. You tell me.”

  I move back just a little, realizing too late I’m pressed up against the wall—not really the best place to be when I need to keep myself open, unencumbered, with plenty of room for escape. Still, I only plan on being here for a moment, only until I can get to the other side where my amulet waits. As soon as I can get hold of it, I’ll secure it back on my neck, and do what it takes to put this whole thing to rest.

  She stands before me, arms loose, fingers twitching, feet planted wide, and knees slightly bent—preparing to move, preparing to pounce.

  I use the moment to study her closely, get a feel for her energy, and try to determine which way she’ll swing. But she’s so out of whack, so disconnected from herself and from everything else, it’s like trying to see through a cloud of static—she’s impossible to read.

  So when she does charge, her fist held high, angling down toward my stomach, I instantly move to block it.

  Never once imagining she’d switch at the very last moment.

  Never once imagining that anyone so strung out and unsteady could actually maneuver like that.

  Catching the crazed look of triumph in her eyes as her fist plunges straight into my throat.

  Slamming right into the sweet spot—my fifth chakra—the center for a lack of discernment, misuse of information, and trusting all the wrong people.

  Nailing it so hard and fast, it’s a moment before I realize what happened.

  A moment before I’m overcome with staggering pain.

  A moment before I’m out of my body, floating, swirling, gazing down at Haven’s leering gaze, Jude’s collapsed form, and the beautiful but fleeting cloud of blue sky that expands all around me—before everything shrinks, and collapses, and the whole world goes black.

  twenty-six

  You know how they say that when you die your whole life flashes before you?

  Well, it’s true.

  That’s exactly what happens to me.

  Not the first time though. The first time I died I went straight to Summerland.

  But this time, this time is different.

  This time I see everything.

  Every major, defining moment from my most current life, as well as all the others that came and went before it.

  The images swirling around me as I free-fall through a solid dark space devoid of all light, overcome by a feeling both terrifying and familiar, as I struggle to remember when I could’ve possibly experienced it before.

  And then it hits me:

  The Shadowland.

  The home for lost souls.

  The eternal abyss for immortals like me.

  That’s exactly where I’m headed, and it’s just like it was when I experienced it through Damen.

  Except for the show.

  That part he failed to let me see.

  Though it’s not long before I know why.

  Know why he was so haunted after his own trip to the Shadowland.

  Why he came back so different, so humbled and changed.

  Plummeting so quickly, I’m buffeted by a sort of reverse gravity, feeling as though my gut’s about to burst through my shoulders and head, as the images unfold all around me.

  At first coming in glimpses, mere flashes of myself in all of my former life guises, but as I grow used to the sensation, accustomed to the movement and speed, I learn to temper it, to slow it down, to focus. Taking them in one at a time as they continue to stream past me.

  Clean.

  Unedited.

  Including all of the parts Damen didn’t want me to see.

  Starting at the beginning, my first life in Paris, back when I was a poor, orphaned servant named Evaline, and wincing as I watch some of the more unsavory tasks I was made to perform—the kind of stomach-curling stuff Damen definitely spared me from. Everything unfolding just as he’d told me all along, until I notice Jude who lived as a cute, young stable boy with a lean, muscular build, sandy blond hair, and piercing brown gaze. And I watch as we begin to dance around each other, starting slowly, a look here, a brief word there, until we grow more comfortable and begin to seriously consider each other—make serious promises to each other. Promises I fully intend to keep until Damen appears and sweeps me right off my feet.

  Sure he used a bit of trickery, summoning all of his immortal charms and putting them to good use. Always managing to show up at just the right time, in just the right place. Always managing to impress me in some big and showy spectacular way. But still, it’s not like any of that was really necessary, because the truth, the truth that I couldn’t see clearly until now, is that it wasn’t the magick that enabled him to capture my heart—magick had absolutely nothing to do with it.

  Damen won me over from the very first moment. From our very first glance.

  Damen won me over long before I even knew who he was or just exactly what he was capable of.

  His powers of attraction, the reason I fell for him so quickly wasn’t because of the magick—it was because Damen was just simply being, well, Damen.

  After watching our entire courtship together—scenes we’ve relived in Summerland, and those we have not—including my horrible death at Drina’s hands—I move on to my next life. Back when I was a Puritan with a strict father, a long-dead mother, a wardrobe consisting of three drab dresses, and an even drabber existence. The only bright spot on the entire horizon of my bori
ng life being a fellow parishioner with dark shaggy hair, a generous smile, and kind eyes I instantly recognize as belonging to Jude—a parishioner my father approves of, pushes me toward, until the day I spot Damen sitting in a pew and my whole world, my entire future, is turned upside down. And it’s not long after meeting him, not long after getting to know him, when I promise to abandon my life of humble obedience for his far more glamorous one. Until, of course, Drina brings it to an untimely end.

  Drina always brought it to an untimely end.

  Leaving my father devastated, Jude shell-shocked, and Damen to scour the earth plane in a prolonged state of grief, waiting for my soul to recycle so we can reunite once again.

  I watch my other lives as well, watch as my soul merges into the body of a well-coddled and extremely pampered baby who will grow up to be a frivolous, spoiled daughter of a wealthy land baron. Carelessly casting aside Jude, a British earl everyone assumes I’ll marry, in favor of a tall, dark stranger who arrived seemingly out of nowhere. Though once again, thanks to Drina, my life ends tragically before I have a chance to make the choice public, but my heart knows the score.

  Then on to Amsterdam where I lived as the beautiful, sultry, alluring artist’s muse with the amazing mane of long titian hair. Flirting with Jude, just like I’ve done with so many who came and went before him, until Damen arrives and steals my attention.

  Not by resorting to any sort of trickery, no overt magick acts were used. He won me simply by being who he is. No more, no less. From the moment I first laid eyes upon him, no one else stood a chance.