Night Star ti-5

by Alyson Noel

  I nod, slightly, barely, because he’s right. It is what I wanted to hear. It’s exactly why I came here.

  He sinks down onto the stool, shoulders slumping as he buries his face in his hands. Rubbing his eyes, the pads of his fingers digging in deep, before lifting his head and squinting at me when he says, “Ever, what’s this about? Seriously? What’re you doing here—what do you want from me?”

  I swallow hard, knowing I owe him an answer, owe him the truth—in both of its forms. Venturing to do just that when I say, “Well, first of all, I wanted to make sure you’re okay. I haven’t seen you in a while and—”

  “And—?” he snaps, clearly in no mood for games.

  “And… I just really wanted to see you. Needed to see you, I guess you could say.”

  “You guess?”

  His eyes rake over me, leaving me feeling raw, exposed, and weirdly traitorous toward Damen. Still, I need something from him. I’m all out of options. I mean, I can’t find the shirt, the Great Hall refuses to help me, the wish I made on my night star has yet to come true, and so far there’ve been no omens or signs of any kind—all of which has led me right here, left with only one way I can think of to get to the bottom of it.

  A way that’s only been attempted but never actually completed.

  A way that just might steer me toward the right one.

  “Jude,” I start, my voice sounding raw, unused. “Jude, I—”

  I move closer, thinking: This is ridiculous—this whole thing is ridiculous.

  I mean, he loves me, and I know I once loved him, or, even if it wasn’t exactly love, I know for a fact I felt something for him. And maybe a kiss is all it’ll take to reveal it to me. Just like when I first kissed Damen, how we felt so connected, so bonded, before all the other cruel realities moved in.

  I move around the counter and reach for his hand, moving so quickly barely a moment passes before my fingers are pressed against his and a soothing rush of his cool, calm energy streams through my limbs. Quieting my mind—causing my body to soften and yield—watching as his face veers closer, gaze probing, burning, as my fingers curl around the lean tautness of his arm.

  My entire being flushed with anticipation as I pull him right to me, waiting for the swell of his lips against mine, needing to experience this once and for all, needing to know just what it is we’ve been missing throughout all of these centuries.

  At first shocked by the feel of it, the unexpected coolness, the pillowy firmness of his kiss—so opposite Damen’s perfect blend of tingle and heat. Aware of the low groan escaping his throat as he cups the back of my head and presses me to him. His mouth parting softly, his tongue seeking mine, as the door swings wide open, crashes hard against the wall, and sends the bell ringing and scattering across the floor.

  We turn.

  Jolted apart in surprise.

  Only to find Haven, looking dark, sinister, cruelly shadowed by the light at her back, blocking the doorway and glaring at us.

  Her lip curled, eyes narrowed, a hand perched on each hip as she says, “Wow. Would you look at that? This must be my lucky day. Two birds, one stone, and neither one of you standing a chance.”

  twenty-four

  I turn to Jude, urging him to run, hide, to do whatever it takes to get away from her. Knowing we have only a second, two at the most, before she’s on us—before it’s too late for him to go anywhere else.

  But even though I’m not at all joking, even though I shoot him a look that tells him I’m one hundred percent serious—he stays right where he is. Planted behind the counter, planted right behind me. Mistakenly thinking our brief, barely-there kiss somehow obliges him to stick around and protect me.

  And I’m just about to repeat my request, when she’s already crossed the room, already standing before us wild-eyed, crazed, wearing an out-of-control look on her face.

  I move to cover Jude, seeing the way she smiles, slowly running the tip of her tongue around the rim of her lips as she peers over my shoulder and says, “Do yourself a favor and don’t listen to Ever. You’re much better off staying right where you are. You can never outrun me, no matter how hard you try. Besides, you’re definitely gonna need that energy for later.”

  She takes a quick step to the right, as though she’s planning to reach right around me and snatch him away, but I’m quick to block her, my eyes narrowed on hers, reminded of our unfortunate encounter in the school bathroom—when she controlled me—pinned me up against the wall—against my will—and knowing that if I’m barely a match for her, then Jude will never survive it.

  “Sorry to interrupt your little make-out session.” She laughs, her red-rimmed eyes darting between us. “I had no idea you two had decided to take it in that direction.” She reaches toward me, pricking my shoulder with the sharp edge of her long, blue-painted nail before pulling away. The cold, bitter chill of her energy stinging, lingering, though there’s no mistaking the effort it took to keep the hand trembling to a minimum.

  She cocks her head to the side, grabs a chunk of hair that spills over her shoulder, and twirls it around and around her raised index finger. Her gaze focused solely on Jude when she says, “Before you get too overly excited about having made it to first base, you should probably know that the only reason Ever’s allowed you to even get that far is because Damen’s abandoned her for Stacia. Again.” She shakes her head and purses her lips, eyes darting between him and me. “And, well, I guess she’s just looking for someone to fall back on. You know, so to speak.”

  I steal a quick glance at Jude, hoping he’s not really listening to this, not taking her seriously, but his gaze is so clouded, so conflicted, it’s nearly impossible to read.

  “Don’t you ever get tired of it?” She abandons the hair twirling in order to admire the stacks of rings she wears on each finger. “You know, of Ever’s constantly using you as a shoulder to cry on, using you to do her dirty work for her? I mean, seriously, when you think about it, a kiss is like, well, pretty much the least she can do when she’s the number one reason why your life is destined to come to such a tragic, untimely end.”

  But even though she’s prepared to go on and on, dragging this out for as long as she pleases, I’ve heard enough. Jude’s heard enough. And I don’t want him to get distracted by her or, worse, start to believe her.

  “What do you want?” I steady my breath, center myself, and prepare for whatever it is she plans to dish out.

  “Oh, I think you know.” Her eyes flash with irises that were once a beautiful, tortoiseshell swirl of bronzes and golds but are now dark, ominous, gloomy, and mottled with red. “I think I’ve been quite clear about that.” She smirks. “But what I can’t decide is who to kill first? So maybe you can help me out here, which would you prefer—you or Jude?”

  I hold her gaze, doing what I can to temper and soothe Jude’s increasingly agitated energy, while keeping her attention and the brunt of her anger directed at me. “So, this is it?” My brow lifts as I glance all around. “Your big plan, the big scary move you’ve been threatening to make for—what’s it been—weeks, months?” I lift my shoulders as though it’s hardly worth remembering. “Is actually going to go down in a quaint little neighborhood bookstore?” I shake my head as though I couldn’t be more disappointed by her mundane choice of venues. “I gotta tell ya, Haven, I’m a little surprised. I mean, I really would’ve thought you’d go for something with way more drama and flair. You know, some big, bold move in an overcrowded mall or something. But, then again, you are looking a little—what was that word Roman used to use?” I narrow my lids as though I’m actually trying to remember, making a show of slapping my forehead when I say, “Oh, that’s right—peckish. You’re looking a little peckish these days.” My gaze meets hers. “You know, strung-out, tired, a little—edgy—even. Like you’re desperately in need of a good meal—and, well, yeah, maybe even a hug.”

  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 c
an’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.