Night Star ti-5

by Alyson Noel

  “No worries,” I whisper, gaze scanning the area, searching for Damen even though I try to pretend I’m merely refamiliarizing myself with the school grounds. “I promise I won’t—”

  I see him.

  Damen.

  “—I promise I won’t let her—”

  I swallow hard and drink him right in.

  Lounging on a bench, long legs splayed out before him, resting back on his hands as he tilts his gorgeous face toward the sun…

  “—I promise I won’t let her hurt—”

  I struggle to finish, but it’s no use. I know the instant I see it that this is what Miles was so covertly trying to warn me about.

  Not wanting to state it bluntly, correctly assuming I’d freak—pretty much just like I am—but not wanting me to just stumble upon it either and feel sucker-punched in the very worst way.

  Miles did what he could—I’ll give him that. He did his best to spare me this brand of pain. But still, no matter how much he tried to prepare me, there’s just no denying a sight like this.

  When I said that nothing could break me, I was wrong.

  Dead wrong.

  But then again, I never really imagined I’d find him like this.

  He talks to her softly, his face gentle and kind, distracting her from the cruel comments and looks that come from just about everyone who passes by. But as long as Damen’s there, that’s as bad as it’ll get. No one will dare venture anywhere near. His presence alone is what keeps them away. Keeps her safe.

  As long as he’s with her, she’s spared from their wrath.

  But it’s not like understanding why he does it makes it any easier to watch. And every second I stand there—a part of me withers.

  A part of me dies.

  Miles grabs hold of my elbow, determined to steer me away, but it’s no use. I’m stronger than him and I refuse to be swayed.

  Knowing it’s just a matter of moments until he’ll sense my presence, my energy. And even though my insides are churning, my heart breaking, my hands shaking, even though I’m terrified of what I might find in his gaze once he does locate me—I still need it to happen.

  Need to know what it means.

  Need to know if she now occupies the space I once filled in his life.

  When he sees me, when his eyes go wide and his lips part in a way that completely transforms him—my breath stalls in my throat.

  The moment feeling like forever, like it’s somehow suspended in time. Though it’s not long before she sees it too, following his gaze all the way to me before quickly looking away. Her former surplus of confidence now diminished for good.

  “Ever—please,” Miles urges, his voice at my ear. “Remember what I told you. Nothing is what it seems. Everything’s been turned upside down. The former D list is now the A list—and the old A list, well, they’ve pretty much disbanded, most of them are in hiding, some have even left. Nothing is the same anymore.”

  But even though I hear it, the words flow right through me.

  I don’t care about any of that. I only care about Damen and the way his gaze circles mine.

  And though I wait for it—a tulip, either real or imagined, or some other kind of sign—nothing comes.

  Nothing but the infinite silence that stretches between us.

  So I lean into Miles and allow him to lead me away.

  Lead me right past the sight of them.

  Right through my pain.

  twenty

  He calls out my name, his voice coming from behind me. Right behind me. Causing me to turn, instinctively, automatically, moving toward him without thinking.

  “You’re back.” He looks at me, the words a statement, his gaze a question.

  I nod. And then I shrug. And then I struggle to cease all outright modes of fidgeting as I try to decide where to take it from here.

  But clearly he’s far more up to the task than I am, because barely a moment passes before he says, “It’s good to see you.”

  “Is it?” I narrow my gaze, instantly regretting the tone, the words. Seeing the way he flinches, the way his eyes pull down at the sides, but now that I’ve said it, there’s no taking it back.

  “I’ve missed you.” He gestures toward me, his hand lifting, reaching, but only briefly before it falls back to his side. “I’ve missed the sight of you, the scent of you. I’ve missed every single thing about you.” He allows his gaze to move over me slowly, circling, like the warmest of hugs. “And even if you decide to never talk to me again, it won’t change a thing. Nothing can ever change how I feel about you.”

  My insides turn to jelly—a quivering mass of indecision. Torn between bolting—getting myself as far from him as I possibly can—and running straight into the shelter of his warm and wonderful arms. Wondering how I can possibly feel so totally empowered to deal with Haven and all of her crap, to do whatever it takes to get a handle on her—but this, this thing with Damen, seeing him with her, and now standing before me like he is—well, it instantly unearths every last trace of my old insecurities and self-doubt.

  Leaving me to wonder why it’s always so much easier to train the body than the heart.

  I mean, out of all the girls in this school, why her? Why Stacia? Surely there’s someone else he could play the white knight for…

  But just after thinking it, the reason becomes clear. And I watch as she ducks out of class, makes her way down the hall, head lowered, shoulders slumped, gaze fixed on a distant point just in front of her, not daring to risk any accidental eye contact with her tormentors, as she cowers against their onslaught of hate—the slew of harsh words, cruel looks, and the occasional water bottle aimed at her head.

  And even though my mind hates the fact that he’s the only one who can protect her, my heart knows I have nothing to worry about, nothing to fear.

  “As it just so happens, she needs protecting more than anyone else,” Damen says, nodding toward the scene I just witnessed. “A lot’s changed since you were last here. The whole school’s turned against her. And even though you may think she deserves it, trust me, no one deserves that, no one deserves what Haven’s put her through.”

  I nod, knowing it’s true, wanting him to know that I know it’s true, but unable to actually voice the words. It hurts too much to speak.

  “But, Ever.” He pauses, gaze holding mine. “I’m merely looking after her here at school, nothing more. It’s not at all what you think, or what you might fear. It’s always been you. I thought you knew that.”

  “I do know that,” I say, finally finding my voice again. “But does she?” I cringe at the statement, hating the sound of it, the weak, disgusting, totally embarrassing sound of it. Still, it’s not like I can’t see the way she gazes at him. Same way she always gazes at him. Same way most girls gaze at him. The only difference is, with Stacia, there’s history.

  “She does.” His face is grave, his eyes never once straying from mine as his hands hang open, loose by his sides. “Trust me, I’ve told her. She knows.”

  I swallow hard and study those hands, remembering all of the wonderful things that they’re capable of and longing to feel them again. Knowing from the way they tremble ever so slightly that it’s taking every last ounce of his strength to stay right where he is, rooted in place. That all I have to do to bridge the terrible chasm gaping between us is take one step toward him—one step away from the past, Stacia, and everything else.

  If only it were that easy.

  While I know our past lives don’t define us, I still can’t make peace with some of the more undeniable facts. Like his penchant for pulling me away from my loved ones so that he can have me all to himself—having done so twice that I know of. And I can’t help but wonder how many other times he’s resorted to that, and how many people have suffered because of it.

  The bell rings, the sound trilling loudly, but neither one of us moves.

  We just stand there together, allowing a scurry of students to move all around in a blur of color and sound
. Our gazes locked, bodies still, his mind streaming tulips toward me until I’m surrounded by a glorious halo of them only we can see.

  The spell broken when someone bumps into me—hard—one of Haven’s minions who’s severely misjudged me. Tossing me a belligerent gaze and a few choice words to go with it, until she reads the look on Damen’s face and swiftly cowers away.

  “I understand.” I nod, watching as a wadded-up piece of paper bounces off the side of Stacia’s head as she ducks into class. My gaze shifting from her to him when I add, “Really, I get it. It’s good of you. Kind of you. It’s the right thing to do. So don’t worry about me, you just continue to protect her, and I’ll…” I search the hall, watching it empty as everyone races to beat the tardy bell. “And I’ll do what I can to keep it from getting any worse—to keep Haven under control.”

  “And us? Is there any hope for us?” he asks.

  But I leave the words behind.

  His thoughts drifting from behind me, around me, curling up inside me, as I turn and make my way down the hall.

  Reminding me that he’s here.

  Will always be here.

  All I have to do is let him in.

  twenty-one

  I figured she’d try to avoid me ’til lunch.

  Figured she’d want to hold off on any sort of confrontation until she had her groupies all gathered around her and she could show me the full brunt of the big, bad thing she’s achieved.

  Figured she mistook my weeklong absence, my wanting to get my head straight about Damen, for fear.

  Fear of her and all she’s accomplished.

  Which is exactly why I made sure to run into her well before that.

  Appearing by her side without warning, I slide up alongside her, tap her on the shoulder, and stare straight into her heavily made-up, slightly startled eyes, saying, “Hey, Haven.” I keep my expression benign, if not outright friendly. Wanting her to know that I’m back, that it’s time for her to rein it in, but not wanting to challenge her directly, since nothing good will come of that. “Just thought you should know that your car has been moved. I needed the space.”

  She looks at me, mouth curling up at one side, obviously far more amused than mad, ridiculously delighted to know the game is still on.

  “But then again, that shouldn’t really surprise you, since you know that’s not your space. It belongs to Damen and me. Has for almost a year now.”

  She laughs, a short burst of sound that ends almost as soon as it begins. Slipping out of her shorts and T-shirt, she tosses them into her locker in exchange for the navy-blue dress she starts to yank over her head. “Yeah, well, you weren’t here and Damen didn’t seem to mind all that much. But then again, from what I’ve seen, he’s been a little preoccupied lately.”

  She pulls the dress down, her eyes meeting mine as her face emerges from the swath of fabric, then she shimmies from side to side, getting herself all situated. Taking a moment to eyeball me, her derisive gaze raking from my head to my toes before venturing back up again, searching for a reaction that just doesn’t come.

  Her comment glides past me, doesn’t affect me in the least. Damen and I have come to an understanding, and this confrontation with her, well, it’s everything I’ve trained myself for.

  “I thought you hated P.E.” I drop onto the scarred wood bench, cross my legs, and clasp my hands on my knee. Gazing around the girls’ locker room, a place she’s made a point to avoid after a particularly brutal hazing incident she was forced to suffer at the beginning of freshman year.

  “Well, it’s true that I used to.” She shrugs, readjusting the jumble of necklaces she now favors in place of the amulet I gave her. Her eyes blazing, face radiant when she looks at me and says, “But then, as you well know, things change, Ever. Or, more specifically, I’ve changed. And because of it, I’ve finally come to realize something I could’ve only guessed at before.” She pauses for a moment to slip on her shoes, wrapping the ties around her ankles, once, twice, before tying them in a knot that reaches halfway up her tiny, well-muscled calves. “Once you’ve made it to the top of the pyramid, once you’re beautiful, powerful, and graced with both strength and speed, well, there’s really no reason to dislike anything. Except for maybe those pathetically jealous losers who are determined to bring you down. But, seriously, other than that, it’s all good. You can’t even imagine what it feels like to be me right now.” She fluffs her hair, smoothing her hands over the front and sides of her dress, gazing at herself admiringly in the mirror across the way, as she makes sure everything is perfectly in place.

  Stealing a moment away from her reflection to reflect upon me, sighing deeply, loudly, her gaze full of pity when she says, “I meant that literally by the way. You seriously cannot imagine what it’s like to be me. What it’s like to be on top of the world—at the top of your game.” She smirks, reaching into her locker, toward the top shelf, where she’s stashed all her rings. “I mean, let’s face it, not to be cruel or anything, but you’ve pretty much been a big loser your whole, entire life, and even now, when, technically speaking anyway, you can have anything or anyone you choose—you still choose to be a big dork.” She shakes her head and stacks her rings on her fingers, a task that takes longer than you’d think due to the sheer number of them. “I mean, if it wasn’t so funny, it would be sad. But still, I have to admit, there’s still a small part of me that pities you.”

  “And the other part?” I look at her, watching as she arranges her hair, getting it settled and smoothed around her shoulders and face.

  She laughs. Satisfied with her hair, she pilfers through her bag for some lip gloss before casting a quick glance my way. “Why, the other part is going to kill you. But then, you already knew that.”

  I nod, so casually you’d think she’d just made some harmless, throwaway comment rather than an actual threat on my life.

  “I mean, don’t get me wrong, originally I’d planned to kill Jude first, you know, hurt him real bad while making you watch—that sort of thing. But then, once I really thought about it, I realized it would be so much more fun to switch it around and do away with you first. You know, leave him totally defenseless and alone, with no one able, much less willing to save him. I mean, surely Damen won’t be volunteering for that. And not just because he’s so busy protecting Stacia, but because, well, let’s face it, as good and noble as he likes to think he is, I doubt even he’ll be all that sad to see him go, considering everything that’s gone down recently.” She shrugs, running the wand over her lips, once, twice, before rubbing them together, making a kissing face at the mirror, then grinning as she drops the gloss back into her bag. “I don’t know, just an idea. What do you think?”

  “What do I think?” I lift my brow and tilt my head, allowing my hair to spill down the front of my dress.

  She looks at me, waiting.

  “I think—bring it on.”

  She breaks into laughter, deep, belly-clutching laughter. Struggling to catch her breath as she smooths her hair again, tosses her bag over her shoulder, and continues to check herself out in the mirror, tilting her head from side to side and clearly admiring the view when she says, “You couldn’t possibly be serious. You actually want to start this, here? Now?” She looks at me, face full of doubt.

  “Seems as good a time and place as any.” I shrug. “I mean, why delay the inevitable, right?”

  She holds my gaze as I rise from the bench, standing before her without a trace of fear, completely assured of my surplus of strength. Taking a moment to remind myself of the promise I made—that it’s up to her to make the first move. I don’t bait her, don’t do anything more than stand there and wait. The consequences are far too serious, far too permanent, for a reckless move like that. My only goal is to teach her a lesson, knock her down a notch or two. Show her that I’m stronger than she thinks, that it’s time for her to pull back, to retreat. Hoping it’ll prompt her to rethink all of this, to realize her big, bad plan is not such a wise mov
e.

  She shakes her head, rolls her eyes, mumbles something indecipherable under her breath, and tries to push past me, dismissing the whole thing with a wave of her hand. “Trust me. It’ll happen, when it happens.” She glances over her shoulder and narrows her gaze. “All you need to know is that you will not control it, you will not determine it, and you will not see it coming. Makes it way more fun that way, don’t ya think?”

  But just as she reaches the door, sure she’s in the clear, I appear right before her, barring her exit. “Listen, Haven, you so much as lay a finger on Miles, Jude, or anyone else, and so help me you will not like what happens to you…”

  Her lip curls, while her eyes go dark, darker than I’ve ever seen them before. “And what if I go after Stacia?” She smiles, though it’s more like a leer. “What’re you gonna do about that? You gonna risk your life—your very soul—to protect her too?” Pausing long enough to allow the words to penetrate, before slapping her hand over her mouth in a feigned bout of shame. “Oh, never mind. I totally forgot she has Damen for that now. My bad.” She smirks and shoves past me, pushes right through the door.

  Leaving me there on my own, knowing the victory may have been small, but having no doubt I succeeded in getting my message across.

  The next move is hers.

  twenty-two

  It’s hard to get used to this new lunchtime routine—with Haven holding court at table A, while Miles and I sit at our usual table C. Both of us pretending not to look anywhere near table D, where Damen sits beside Stacia, even though we’re both pretty much blatantly gaping at it.

  Though as hard as it is to watch, Damen and I have come to a new understanding—one where we accept our respective responsibilities in the present, while I take some time to try and accept the sins of his past. Still, I know inside that it’s worth it. Worth the pain of seeing him like that—the way he gazes at me, the way he keeps watch over her—worth it because as long as I’m here, as long as Damen is there, Haven is contained.