Dark Flame (The Immortals #4)(14)

Her mouth quirks to the side, obviously reluctant to leave Jude in my care or to hand the prescription over, but she has little choice.

I follow Jude outside, over to my manifested Miata, an exact replica of the one I usually drive. Feeling awkward, nervous, barely able to look him in the eye.

“Just pull out here and make a right,” he says, voice low, groggy, giving no indication of what he’s truly thinking or just how he might feel about me. And though his aura appears to be softening, there’s still a good bit of red clinging to its edges, a fact that pretty much speaks for itself. “You can drop me at Main Beach. I’ll take it from there.”

“I’m not dropping you at Main Beach,” I say, taking the opportunity to study him as I brake at a light. And even though it’s dark out, there’s no missing the hollows under his eyes, the sheen of sweat on his brow, two unmistakable signs that he’s suffering a great deal of pain—thanks to me. “Seriously, that’s just—ridiculous.” I shake my head. “Just tell me where you live and I promise to get you home safely.”

“Safely?”

He laughs, a sort of ironic chuckle that comes from somewhere down deep, his two messed-up arms resting on his lap as he says, “Funny, you’ve used that word twice in the last five minutes, and to be honest, I’m feeling pretty much anything but safe around you.”

I sigh, gazing into a starless night sky, pressing lightly on the gas and foregoing my usual lead foot since I don’t want to alarm him any more than I already have. “Listen,” I say. “I—I’m sorry. Really and truly—sorry.” Gazing at him for so long, he nods nervously toward the street.

“Uh, traffic?” He shakes his head. “Or do you control that too?”

I avert my gaze and try to think of what to say.

“It’s up here, on the left. The one with the green gate. Just pull into the drive and I’m good to go.”

I do as he says, braking just shy of a garage door that’s the exact shade of green as the gate, immediately killing the engine, which prompts him to say, “Oh no.” He looks at me. “No need for that. Trust me, you are not coming in.”

I shrug, reaching across him, wanting to unlock his door the old-fashioned way instead of the telekinetic way, noticing how he winces when my arm veers too close to his.

“Listen,” I say, back in my seat. “I know you’re tired, and I know you probably want to get as far from me as you possibly can, as quickly as you can, and I can’t say I blame you. I mean, if I were you, I’d feel the same way. But still, if you could just spare me a few more seconds of your time, I’d really like a chance to explain.”

He mumbles under his breath, gazing out the window for a moment before shifting toward me in a way that allows for his full, undivided attention.

And knowing I have to move fast, that he’s prepared to allow me a few seconds and no more, I say, “Listen, it’s like this—I mean, I know it sounds crazy, and I really can’t go into all the details, but you have to trust me when I say I had really good reason to think you were one of them.”

He closes his eyes for a moment, brows squinched with pain, looking at me when he says, “A rogue. Yeah. You’ve made your point, Ever. Made it abundantly clear, remember?” He glances between his injured arms and me.

I scrunch my nose and rub my lips together, knowing this next part probably won’t go over any better, but still forging ahead when I say, “Yeah, well, you see, the thing is—I thought you were evil. Seriously. It’s the only reason I did what I did. I mean, I saw your tattoo—and—I have to say it was pretty convincing—well, except for the fact that it didn’t flash or blink or anything like that—but still, that, coupled with the fact that Ava called, and, well, some other stuff I can’t exactly get into, but anyway, all of that made me think that you—” I shake my head, knowing I’m not getting anywhere with this and choosing to just drop it, abandon it for something that’s been niggling at me ever since we left the hospital. “You know, if you’re so mad at me, if you hate me so much, then why’d you help me back there? Why’d you lie to those cops and take all the blame? I mean, I’m the one who hurt you, we both know I did it, heck, even they knew I did it. But still, you totally blew your big chance to get me cuffed and hauled away and thrown into the slammer when you lied on my behalf. And to be honest, I just don’t get it.”

He shuts his eyes again and tilts his head back, his pain and fatigue so palpable I’m about to call it off, about to tell him never mind, just go inside and get some rest, when he levels those amazing green eyes right on mine and says, “Listen, Ever, here’s the thing—as crazy as it sounds, I’m a lot less interested in why you did it, than how you did it.”

I look at him, fingers gripping the steering wheel, unable to speak.

“How you tossed me like a Frisbee across your backyard—”

I swallow hard, eyes fixed straight ahead, not saying a word.

“And how one moment you were standing before me, hands empty, no pockets in sight—and the next thing I know you’re wielding a double-edged, jewel-handled knife—that—by the way—seemed to disappear just after you attacked me—am I right?”

I take a deep breath and nod. There’s no use lying now.