126464.fb2
“I don’t understand,” I say, voice hoarse, shaky. “What was that horrible place?”
He looks away, fingers squeezing mine when he says, “The future. The Shadowland. The eternal abyss I’d thought was meant only for me—that I’d hoped was meant only for me . . .” He closes his eyes and shakes his head. “But now I know better. Now I know that if you’re not careful, extremely careful—you’ll go there too.”
I look at him, starting to speak, but he cuts me off before I can get to the words. “The past few days I’ve been getting these flashes—glimpses, really—of various moments from my past—both distant and near.” He looks at me, carefully searching my face. “But the moment we came here—” He gestures around. “It started trickling back, slowly at first until it all came surging forth, including the moments I was under Roman’s control. I also relived my death. Those few brief moments after you broke through the circle, before you had me drink the antidote, as you know, I was dying. I watched my entire life flash before me, six hundred years of unchecked vanity, narcissism, selfishness, and greed. Like an endless reel of all of my actions, every misdeed that I’d done—accompanied by the impact I had—the mental and physical effect of my mistreatment of others. And though there were a few decent acts here and there, the majority, well, it amounted to centuries of me focusing on nothing but my own self-interest, giving very little thought to anything or anyone else. Focusing solely on the physical world to the detriment of my soul. Leaving me no doubt I was right all along, my karma’s to blame for what we’re going through now.” He shakes his head and meets my gaze with such unflinching honesty I want to reach out and touch him, hold him, tell him it will all be okay. But instead I stay put, sensing there’s more and it’s about to get worse.
“Then, at the moment of my death, instead of coming here, to Summerland—” His voice cracks but he forces himself to continue. “I—I went to a place the exact opposite of this. A place so dark and cold it’s more like a Shadowland. Experiencing the same thing you just did. Solitary, suspended, alone—left to stay that way for all of eternity.” He looks at me, willing me to understand. “It was exactly like you felt. It was as though I was isolated, soulless—with no connection to anything or anyone else.”
I stare into his eyes, an ominous chill blanketing my skin, never having seen him so tired, so jaded, so—regretful—before.
“And now I understand the very thing that’s escaped me all these years—”
I pull my knees to my chest, shielding myself from whatever comes next.
“Only our physical bodies are immortal. Our souls are most certainly not.”
I avert my gaze, unable to look at him, unable to breathe.
“This is the future you’re facing. The one I’ve granted you, if, God forbid, anything should happen, that is.”
My fingers instinctively fly to my throat, remembering what Roman said about my compromised chakra, my lack of discernment and weakness, wondering if there’s some way to guard it. “But—how can you be sure?” I look at him as though caught in a dream, some horrible nightmare with no way to escape. “I mean, there’s a good chance you’re wrong since it happened so fast. So maybe that was just a temporary state. You know, like I brought you back to life so fast you didn’t have time to make the trip here.”
He shakes his head, his gaze meeting mine when he says, “Tell me, Ever, what did you see when you died? How did you spend those few moments between the time when your soul left your body and I returned you to life?”
I swallow hard and look away, gazing at the trees, the flowers, the colorful stream flowing nearby—remembering that day I found myself in this very same field. So taken by its heady fragrance, its shimmering mist, the all-encompassing feel of unconditional love, I was tempted to linger forever, never wanting to leave.
“The reason you didn’t see the abyss is because you were still mortal. You’d died a mortal’s death. But the moment I had you drink from the elixir, granting you infinite life, everything changed. Instead of an eternity in Summerland or the place beyond the bridge—the Shadowland became your fate.”
He shakes his head and looks away, so deeply mired in his private world of regret I’m afraid I’ll never reach him again. But just as quickly his eyes meet mine when he says, “We can live an eternity in the earth plane, you and I together. But if something should happen, if one of us should die—” He shakes his head. “The abyss is where we’ll go, and we’ll never see each other again.”
I start to speak, desperate to refute it, tell him he’s wrong, but I can’t. It’s no use. All I have to do is look in his eyes to see the real truth.
“And as much as I believe in the powerful healing magick of this place—just look at the way it healed my memory—” He shrugs and shakes his head. “I can’t afford to give in, no matter how safe my desire for you may seem. It’s too risky. And we’ve no proof it’ll be any different here than on the earth plane. It’s a gamble I can’t afford to take. Not when I need to do everything I can to keep you safe.”
“Keep me safe?” I gape. “You’re the one who needs saving! It’s my fault all this happened in the first place! If I hadn’t—”
“Ever, please,” he says, voice stern, willing me to listen. “You’re in no way to blame. When I think about the way I’ve lived—the things I’ve done—” He shakes his head. “I deserve nothing better. And if there was any question that my karma was to blame, well, I think it ends here. I’ve spent the better part of six hundred years devoting myself to physical pleasure and neglecting my soul—and this is the result—the wake-up call, and unfortunately, I’ve dragged you along. So make no mistake, my concern is for you and you only. You’re my only priority. My life is only important in that I stay well long enough to protect you from Roman and whoever else he might hurt. And that means we can never be together. Never. It’s a risk we can’t take.”
I turn toward the stream, a thousand thoughts storming my brain. And even though I heard everything he just said, even though I experienced the abyss for myself, I still wouldn’t change what I am.
“And the other orphans?” I whisper, remembering how I counted six, including Roman. “What happened to them? Do you know if they turned evil like Roman and Drina?”
Damen shrugs, rising from the bench and pacing before me. “I always assumed they were too old and feeble by now to ever pose a real threat. That’s what happens after the first one hundred and fifty years—you age. And the only way to reverse the process is to drink the elixir again. My guess is that Drina stockpiled it while we were married and slipped it to Roman who eventually learned how to make his own and then passed it to the others.” He shakes his head.
“So that’s where Drina is now,” I whisper, overcome with remorse when I realize the truth. No matter how evil she was, she didn’t deserve that. Nobody does. “I sent her to the Shadowland—and now she’s—” I shake my head, unable to finish.
“It wasn’t you who did it, it was me.” He fills the space beside me, sitting so close there’s only a sliver of energy pulsating between us. “The moment I made her an immortal, I sealed her fate. Just like I did yours.”
I swallow hard, comforted by his warmth along with his wanting to assure me that I’m truly not responsible for sending my number-one enemy through all of my lives straight into that hell.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, gaze full of regret. “I’m sorry I involved you in any of this. I should’ve left you alone—should’ve walked a long time ago. You would’ve been so much better off if you’d never met me—”
I shake my head, unwilling to even visit that place, it’s far too late for looking back or second-guessing. “But if we’re destined to be together—then maybe this is our fate.” Knowing he remains unconvinced the second I read his expression.
“Or maybe I’ve forced something that was never meant to be.” He frowns. “Did you ever think of that?”
I look away, taking in the surrounding beauty, knowing words alone can never change any of this. Only action can help. And lucky for us, I know just where to start.
I stand, pulling him up alongside me as I say, “Come on. We don’t need Roman—don’t need anyone—I know just the place!”
CHAPTER 8
We head for the Great Halls of Learning. Stopping just shy of its steep marble steps as I peer at him, wondering (hoping!) he can see what I see—the ever-changing façade that’s required for entry.
“So you really did find it,” he says, voice tinged with awe as we watch the revolving collection of the most sacred and beautiful places on Earth. The Taj Mahal morphing into the Parthenon, which turns into the Lotus temple, which becomes the Great Pyramids of Giza, and so on. Our mutual acknowledgment of its beauty and wonder allowing us into the grand marble hall lined with elaborately carved columns straight out of ancient Greek times.
Damen gazes around, face a mask of absolute wonder as he takes it all in. “I haven’t been here since—”
I peer at him, holding my breath, dying to know the details of the last time he was here.
“Since I came to find you.”
I squint, unsure what that means.
“Sometimes—” He looks at me. “I was lucky enough to just happen upon you, ending up in the same place at just the right time. Though more often than not I’d have to wait a few years before it was proper to meet.”
“You mean you were spying on me?” I gape, hoping it wasn’t nearly as creepy as it sounds. “When I was a kid?”
He cringes, averting his gaze when he says, “No, not spying, Ever. Please. What do you take me for?” He laughs and shakes his head. “It was more like—keeping tabs. Patiently waiting until the time was right. But the last few times when I was unable to find you, no matter how hard I tried—and believe me, I tried, living like a nomad, wandering from place to place, sure I’d lost you forever—I decided to come here. And I ran into some friends who showed me the way.”
“Romy and Rayne.” I nod, neither hearing nor seeing the answer in his head, but somehow sensing it’s true. Overcome by an immediate rush of guilt for failing to even think of them until now. Not even wondering how they might be, where they might be, until a second ago.
“You know them?” He squints, clearly surprised.
I press my lips together, knowing I’ll have to tell him the rest of the story, the parts I’d hoped to omit.
“They led me here too—” I pause, taking a deep breath and looking away, preferring to take in the room than meet his quizzical gaze. “They were at Ava’s—or at least Rayne was. Romy was out—” I shake my head and start again. “She was out trying to help you when you—”
I close my eyes and sigh, deciding to just show him instead. Everything. All of it. Including the parts I was too ashamed to put into words. Projecting the events of that day until there are no more secrets between us. Letting him know how hard they fought to save him, while I was too stubborn, refusing to listen.
But instead of being upset like I feared, he places his hands on my shoulders, gazing at me with forgiveness as he thinks, What’s done is done. We have to move forward, there’s no looking back.
I swallow hard and meet his gaze, knowing he’s right. It’s time to get started, but where to begin?
“It’s better if we split up.” He nods, his words a surprise to my ears, and I’m just about to speak when he adds, “Ever, think about it. You’re trying to find something to reverse the effects of the elixir I drank, while I’m trying to save you from the Shadowland, not exactly the same thing.”
I sigh, disappointed but having to agree. “I guess I’ll see you back at the house then. My house, if that’s okay?” I place my hand over his and give it a squeeze, reluctant to revisit his depressingly barren room and unsure where he stands on the whole karma curse thing now that his memory’s returned.