Dark Flame (The Immortals #4)
Alyson Noel
For Rose Hilliard—
because she is an absolute dream to work with
and I couldn’t have done it without her!
acknowledgments
As always, huge, sparkly, confetti-strewn thanks go to:
Bill Contardi—what can I say? You are the absolute BEST! Thanks for all your hard work on my behalf!
Marianne Merola—thank you for helping to spread The Immortals throughout the world!
The St. Martin’s Team—including but certainly not limited to: Matthew Shear, Rose Hilliard, Anne Marie Tallberg, Katy Hershberger, Brittney Kleinfelter, Angela Goddard, and more . . .
My family and friends—you know who you are! Thank you for all the love and support and for dragging me away from the computer just when I need it the most—I appreciate you more than you know!
Sandy—the Patron Saint of Blue Hippos—you rock my world!
And, of course, my readers—not only do you make it all possible—you make it fun and worthwhile and an absolute thrill—I can’t thank you enough!
I beheld the wretch—
the miserable monster whom I had created.
—Mary Shelley, Frankenstein
one
“What the fug?”
Haven drops her cupcake, the one with the pink frosting, red sprinkles, and silver skirt. Her heavily made-up eyes searching mine as I glance around the busy plaza and cringe. Instantly regretting my decision to come here, foolish enough to think a trip to her favorite cupcake place on a nice summer day would be the best place to break the news. Like that little strawberry cake would somehow sweeten the message. But now I’m just wishing we’d stayed in the car.
“Inside voice. Please.” I aim for a light delivery but end up sounding like a cranky old schoolmarm instead. Watching as she leans forward, tucks her long, platinum-streaked bangs back behind her ear, and squints.
“Excuse me? But are you for real? I mean, here you drop a major bomb on me—and I mean major—as in my ears are still ringing and my head is still spinning and I kind of need you to repeat it just to make sure you really did say what I think—and your only concern is that I’m talking too loud? Are you kidding me?”
I shake my head and glance all around, slipping into full-on damage control mode as I lower my voice and say, “It’s just—nobody can know. It’s got to remain secret. It’s imperative,” I urge, realizing too late that I’m talking to the one person who’s never been able to keep anyone’s secret, much less her own.
She rolls her eyes and slams back in her seat, muttering under her breath as I take a moment to study her closely, dismayed to see the signs already present: her pale skin is luminous, clear, practically poreless as well, while her wavy brown hair with the blond streak in front is as shiny and glossy as a high-end shampoo ad. Even her teeth have gone straighter, whiter, and I can’t help but wonder how this happened so quickly, with only a few sips of elixir, when it took so much longer for me.
My eyes continue to graze over her as I take a deep breath and dive in. Forgoing my usual promise not to eavesdrop on my friend’s innermost thoughts, while I strain to get a better look, a glimpse of her energy, the words she’s not sharing—sure that if snooping ever was warranted, it’s now.
But instead of my usual front-row seat, I’m met by a rock-solid wall that bars me from entering. Even after I casually slide my hand forward and tap my fingertips against hers, feigning interest in the silver skull ring she wears, I get nothing.
Her future is hidden from me.
“This is just so—” She swallows hard and looks around, taking in the bubbling fountain, the young mom pushing a stroller while yelling into her cell phone, the group of girls exiting a swim shop with armfuls of bags—looking just about anywhere but at me.
“I know it’s a lot to take in—but still—” I shrug, knowing I’ve got to make a better case but not quite sure how to do it.
“A lot to take in? Is that how you see it?” She shakes her head and drums her fingers against the armrest of her green metal chair as her gaze slowly sweeps over me.
I sigh, wishing I’d handled this better, wishing I could do something to make it go away, but it’s too late for that. I’ve no choice but to deal with this mess that I made. “I guess I was hoping that’s how you’d see it.” I shrug. “Crazy. I know.”
She takes a deep breath, face so still, so placid, it’s impossible to read, and I’m just about to speak, just about to start begging forgiveness, when she says, “Seriously? You made me an immortal? Like—for reals?”
I nod, stomach a jumble of nerves as I sit up straighter and pull my shoulders back, bracing for the blow that’s surely headed my way. Knowing that whatever she gives, be it verbal or physical, I’ve no choice but to take it. I deserve nothing less for wrecking her life as she knows it.
“I’m just—” She sucks in her breath and blinks several times, her aura invisible, offering no clue to her mood, now that I’ve made her like me. “Well—I’m in a total state of shock. I mean, seriously. I don’t even know what to say.”
I press my lips together and drop my hands to my lap, worrying the crystal horseshoe bracelet I always wear as I clear my throat and say, “Haven, listen, I’m so sorry. So—very—very—sorry. You have no idea. I just—” I shake my head, knowing I should cut to the chase but feeling like I need to explain my side of things—the impossible choice I was forced to make—how it felt to see her so pale, so helpless, teetering on the verge of death, every shallow breath quite possibly her last—