Dark Flame (The Immortals #4)(19)
Damen looks at me, alarmed, speechless—shooting me a look that says: She’s your creation—your Frankenstein—do something!
So I clear my throat and turn to her, legs crossed, hands clasped, rearranging my face into a pleasant expression despite the fact that I’m every bit as freaked as he is. “Haven—please,” I say, careful to keep my voice steady and low. “We talked about this—we—”
But not getting very far before she cuts in. “You drink it all the time—so why can’t I?” She drums her fingers against the box and narrows her gaze.
I pause, unsure how to explain that the juice enhances my powers, powers I prefer she not have, fumbling around for just the right words when I say, “While it may appear that way, the thing is—I don’t really need it—not like Damen does anyway. I just sort of drink it because—well—because I’m used to it. And even though it doesn’t taste all that great—I kind of like it. But trust me, it’s really not necessary to drink it every day—not even every week—or every year, for that matter. Like Damen said, you can go a hundred years, maybe two hundred, without a single sip.” I nod, hoping she’ll buy it, not wanting her to know about the surge in power and speed and magical abilities that regular consumption can bring. That would only make her want it more.
“Fine.” She nods. “Guess I’ll just have to get it from Roman, then. I’m sure he’d be happy to give it to me.”
I swallow hard, not saying a word, well aware that she’s challenging me. Watching as Luna jumps onto her lap and Haven starts to pet her.
“Hey there, kitty—weren’t you supposed to be mine? Is that why you’re here now? Because you sense your true owner?” She lifts her up high and nuzzles her chin, laughing when Romy jumps up from her end of the couch and snatches her away. “Relax.” Haven laughs. “It’s not like I’m gonna steal her or anything.”
“You can’t steal her.” Romy glares, lifting Luna onto her shoulder, her favorite place to perch. “You can’t own her either. Pets aren’t possessions, they’re not accessories you discard when you decide you no longer want them. They’re living creatures that share our lives.” She looks at her sister, signaling for her to follow as she storms out of the room.
“Jeez—testy!” Haven glances over her shoulder, watching them leave.
But I’m not about to let her brush that off, she’s the one who put it out there, now I’m just following up. “Speaking of—how is Roman?” I ask, trying to come off as conversational, only vaguely interested, hoping no one else noticed the way my voice just trembled when his name left my lips.
She shrugs, sensing exactly where I’m going with this when she says, “Fine. He’s just fine, thanks for asking. But I’ve got nothing to report. Or at least nothing that would interest you.” She glances between Damen and me, her lips curling up at the corners as though it’s all a big joke, a game she hasn’t fully committed to playing, despite the assurance she gave. Switching her focus to her nails when she says, “Jeez, do your nails grow this fast too? I mean, I just cut them this morning and check it out, they’re already long again!” She holds her hands up so we can see. “And my hair—I swear my bangs have grown a full half inch in just a few days!”
Damen and I exchange a quick glance, both of us thinking the same thing: All of this on just one bottle of elixir? And knowing I’ve no choice but to tell her, and hoping I can pull it off convincingly, I say, “Listen—about Roman—”
She drops her hands in her lap, cradling the box as she looks at me.
“I’ve been thinking—” I pause, aware of Damen’s gaze, deep, intense, boring right into mine, wondering where I’m headed with this, since I certainly haven’t discussed it with him. But the truth is, it’s a conclusion I’ve only just come to myself—a result of all the creepy things that have happened in the past twenty-four hours. “I think you need to avoid him at all costs,” I say, eyeing her carefully. “Seriously. If it’s money you need, I can totally float you until you find another job, but I don’t think you should be working there. It’s not—safe. And even though I know you don’t believe me, even though you think I’ve got it all wrong, the thing is, I don’t. Damen was there too, he can tell you.” I glance at Damen, seeing him nod in agreement, but Haven remains unaffected, her face so placid it’s like she hasn’t even heard. “I can’t express it enough,” I urge. “Seriously. He’s dangerous. A complete and total menace. Not to mention he’s—” Evil and awful, and devastatingly, alluringly irresistible—his voice in my head, his face in my dreams—always there, ever-present—and no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to shake him—can’t stop thinking about him—can’t stop wanting him—can’t stop dreaming about him—“And—um—anyway, I’d hate to see you get hurt.” I swallow hard, my body so ramped up with just the thought of him, with that strange, foreign pulse stirring inside me, I come this close to blowing my cover.
But when she looks at me, her brow lifted as though she heard the words in my head, sees what I really am up to, I panic. Privately and quietly panic. Until I remember that my shield is in place. And no matter how powerful she may be, if Damen couldn’t hear me, then neither could she.