"What's the main tool you used-the one that really got the spell rolling?"
"Well, after the bath, I-" I narrow my eyes and think, the answer coming instantly: "The athame." I look at him, both of us knowing that's it-the big wrong thing that I did. "I–I used it for a blood exchange, and-" His eyes widen, his cheeks pale, and his aura begins to quiver in a way that's more than a little frightening. "And was this the same athame you used on me?" he asks, his concern ringing loud and clear.
I shake my head, seeing his face flood with relief. "No, that was just a quickly manifested replica. The real one's at home."
He nods, obviously glad to hear it but determined to move on. "Well, I hate to say it, but that's the one thing you wanted to make new. You need to offer the goddess something new, pure, and unused. You can't serve her with the same tainted tools you used for the queen of the under-world."
Oh.
He looks at me, gaze saddened, eyes tugging down at the corners when he says, "I'd love to help you, really I would, but this kind of thing is a little over my head. Maybe you should consult with Romy and Rayne, they seem to know what they're doing."
"But do they?" I squint, unsure where I'm going with this, and really just thinking out loud when I say, "Because the thing is, I did listen to them. I did what they said. I mean, granted, they didn't like the athame, claimed I'd made it all wrong and wanted me to melt it down to a stub, but still, even when I refused, they just let it go. They never once said I couldn't use it again or that I had to use a whole new set of tools in order to reverse the spell. Somehow they failed to share that with me."
Our eyes meet, both of us wondering the same thing. Why would they do that? Was it on purpose? Do they really dislike me that much? With Jude dismissing the thought a lot quicker than I. But then, he doesn't know our history. A history so complicated and volatile, I can't rule it out.
"Listen, they're extremely close to Damen-they love him about as much as they hate me. Seriously." I nod, knowing it's not an exaggeration-it's completely and totally true. "And despite the fact they they're supposedly good witches, I wouldn't put it past them to do this, thinking they were teaching me a lesson, or heck, maybe even trying to keep Damen and me apart. I mean, who knows what they've got planned? But even if it wasn't intentional, even if they just simply didn't know any better, there's no way I can approach them. Because if they did do it on purpose, they'll tell Damen, and under no circumstances whatsoever can he find out about this-I can't hurt him that way. And if they didn't, well, then it's just one more piece of ammunition in their arsenal of things with which to ridicule me."
Jude leans toward me, his face determined when he says, "Ever, I get your dilemma, really I do. But don't you think you're coming off as just a little bit paranoid these days?"
I narrow my eyes and lean back in my chair, wondering if he's listened to a single word I've just said.
"I mean, first you accuse me of being a rogue, which, by the way, I still don't know what the heck that is other than it has something to do with Roman, who not only, well according to you anyway, runs his own tribe of evildoers but who you also just happen to both loathe and lust after due to some binding spell gone wrong. And while you can't be too sure, it's quite possible, or at least in your mind it is, that Romy and Rayne are out to get you, which is why they purposely left crucial pieces of information out of their instructions so that you could mess up in such a way that would keep you and Damen apart.
And speaking of Damen, you're also convinced he'd never forgive you for this mess that you've made-and-" He shakes his head. "Do you see what I'm getting at?"
I frown, arms crossed, eyes narrowed to slits, refusing to acknowledge any of it-besides, it's not that simple, it goes much deeper than that.
"Ever, please, I want to help you, you should know that by now, but I'm also determined to do the right thing. You need to take this to Damen. I'm sure he'll understand and-" "I've already explained," I say. "He doesn't trust magick and he already warned me against using it. I can't bear for him to know I didn't listen, and just how low I've sunk."
Jude leans back and studies me closely, his voice a sigh when he says, "Ah, but you've no problem with me knowing, is that it?" He gives a half smile that never quite reaches his eyes.
I take a deep breath and look at him, determined to shoot as straight and openly as I can. "Trust me, this isn't comfortable for me either, but I've pretty much got nowhere else to go. But, hey, if you don't want to get involved, just say so and I'll. ."
I grip my armrests, lifting myself out of my chair, preparing to leave. Stopped by the lure of those deep aqua green eyes coaxing me back into my seat, as he slides open a drawer, riffles through the contents, and says, "Looks like I'm already involved. Let's see what I can do."
"And here I thought I was destined to head off to Florence without a final good-bye from you!" Miles grasps me to him in what could only be described as a bear hug. Peering over my shoulder at Damen and eyeballing him carefully when he whispers, "Glad to see you're back together again."
I pull away and shoot him a dubious look. Remembering the last time I saw him, at the going-away party I threw for him last week, and how he urged me to move on from Damen and find happiness with Jude.
He reads my gaze as though reading my mind, his lips curving into a grin as he says, "So I want to see you happy-is that so bad?" He turns, giving Damen a little half wave, when he adds, "Heck, I want to see everyone happy-which is why you might want to steer clear of just about every room in this house except the one you're in now. And that includes the backyard."
Damen's arm tightens around me, pulling me into a protective embrace, his voice tinged with concern when he says, "So there's someone on the guest list who might make us unhappy?"
I glance between them, already knowing the answer. I knew it the instant we got out of the car and walked up the drive to his door. The moment that strange, foreign pulse awakened inside me, alerting me to the one thing, the only thing I need to know: Roman is here.
The rest is just details.
Miles screws his lips to the side and runs his fingers through his short dark hair. "Oh no, there was no guest list-just a random group of people who started stopping by around noon and haven't stopped yet. And just so you know, I know all about you and Haven, so-" "Excuse me?" I study him closely, peering at his aura, its usual well-meaning yellow now tinged with a conflicted gray.
He looks at me, pursing his lips and shaking his head when he says, "Listen, I know all about it, she told me. And while I wish I could stick around and help you two work it out-" "What did she say? What were her exact words?" I ask, my gaze fixed on Miles as Damen grips my waist tighter, both of us on high alert, watching as he shakes his head, and mimes a zipper being pulled across his mouth.
"Oh no, don't even go there. Seriously, Ever, don't even try.
All I know is that you're no longer talking. As for the rest-I'm Switzerland. Totally neutral. I refuse to get involved. Because the truth is, I really don't wish I could stick around to fix it. I was just being nice. I can't wait to get to Florence and leave you guys here to work it out on your own. And you better work it out too, because I will not be forced to choose sides when I get back. I mean, you may have the advantage since you give me rides to school and all, but still, I've known Haven longer, and that's gotta count for something, right?" He closes his eyes and shakes his head, as though the whole mess is just too much to process.
"Miles, that's all well and good, but I'm afraid it's imperative we know exactly what it is Haven told you." Damen's voice is low, urgent, filled with intent, making it clear, or at least to me anyway, that if Miles doesn't fess up, he's just seconds away from breaking our vow to never spy on our friends' private thoughts and peer right inside his head to see for himself. "It won't get back to her if that's what you're worried about, but I'm afraid we must know."
Miles looks at him, heaving a dramatic sigh and rolling his eyes "Et tu, Damen?" he says, glancing between us, clearly unhappy with the peer pressure we're inflicting on him. "Fine, I'll tell you, but only because this time tomorrow I'm out of here-sailing through the clouds at thirty thousand feet, watching movies I've already seen and filling up on high-sodium food that's sure to bloat me. But just remember, no matter how ugly it gets, you asked for it." He looks at us, pausing dramatically, face gone all serious when he says, "She told me you guys are determined to keep her from Roman, because, and remember, these are her words not mine so don't shoot the messenger, but basically she thinks you're jealous. Well, not really you, Damen, but Ever for sure. She thinks Ever's jealous because, again, her words." He clears his throat, striving for just the right raspy-voiced, Haven inflection. "I'm finally coming into my own and Ever can't stand the fact that she's no longer the special one." He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. And even though I feel bad that we made him repeat it, I'm also secretly thrilled that it isn't at all what I thought. She may hate me, but she's still managed to keep her immortality to herself-at least for now anyway.
Damen nods, coolly, calmly, but I can tell he's relieved too.
And I just look at Miles, shrugging casually when I say, "Wow.
I'm really sorry to hear that."
But the truth is, I've already moved on. That strange magick is stirring inside me, causing my heart to race, my palms to sweat, as that restless, twitchy feeling takes over again. And all I want to do is ditch these two as fast as I can so I can find him. Roman. I've got an uncontrollable hunger that needs to be fed, no matter the cost to me or my friends.
I swallow hard, taking slow measured breaths and struggling to steady myself. Clinging to the small glimmer of sanity that's managed to remain despite the battle that rages around it.
"So, there you have it. A good old-fashioned girl fight."
Miles shrugs. "Too bad I'm not the type to appreciate that kind of thing-though you might."
He motions toward Damen, but Damen's quick to dispel it.
"I assure you, I got over that type of thing a long time ago." He nods, a brief flash of sorrow crossing over his face, a memory of Drina and me that's here and gone before I can blink.
Miles nods, glancing between us when he adds, "Though she is right about one thing-" Damen shifts ever so slightly, on high alert for whatever that might be, while I stand beside him, nervous, fidgety, only wishing he'd come to me.
"She really is looking pretty smokin' these days. I mean, I don't know if it's her new, post-apocalyptic, rock 'n' roll gypsy look she's got going, or what. But it's like she's finally finding herself, coming into her own like she said, you know? And after being so lost for so long, it's got to be a pretty heady feeling to finally gain a little self-empowerment, so try to cut her some slack, okay? She'll come around. Eventually. But for now, I think we should just sit back and try not to take it personally. Or at least you guys should, because me-I'm headed for Florence-did I mention that?"
I nod, automatically, robotically, rearranging my face into what I hope comes off as a pleasant expression. Hoping everything about me appears pleasant, friendly, and completely agreeable, because inside, I'm stirring, burning, and there's no way in hell I'm gonna let her enjoy that ride if it involves bringing Roman along.
No.
Way.
But I don't say that. I don't say a word. I just shrug as though it hardly concerns me, as I continue to survey the room. Just biding my time until my favorite blue-eyed, blond-haired golden boy appears.
"So I guess what I'm trying to say is that no matter what happens between you guys, I'm not choosing sides, which also means you're all equally welcome here. But that doesn't mean I invited her entourage to stop by-Haven came up with that all on her own. Because honestly, don't tell her I said so, but Roman's kind of-" He frowns and stares off into space, searching for just the right word, before shaking his head and starting again. "Well-whatever-let's just say there's something kind of-off about him-something kind of-strange.
I don't really know how to explain it, but it's kind of the same feeling I had with Drina."
His gaze switches between us, searching for confirmation that he really is onto something, but even though my attentions are elsewhere, Damen and I are united in this, standing side by side-a wall of nonchalance he cannot penetrate.
"Anyway." He shrugs. "He makes her happy, and that's all that matters. I mean, it's not like we can stop it, right?"