Dark Flame (The Immortals #4)(3)
two
Haven hurls herself into my car, scrunching her body tightly against the door and propping her feet on the seat. Frowning and glaring and mumbling—a full litany of complaints leveled at me—as I pull out of the lot and onto the street.
“Rule number one.” I glance at her, pushing my long blond hair out of my face, determined to ignore her openly hostile gaze. “You—can’t—tell—anyone.” I pause, allowing the words to sink in before adding, “Seriously. You can’t tell your mom, your dad, your little brother Austin—”
“Please.” She shifts, crossing and uncrossing her legs, tugging at her clothes and jiggling her foot in a way so antsy, so squirmy, it’s clear she can barely stand to be contained here with me. “I barely talk to them anyway.” She scowls. “Besides, that’s a repeat. You already sang that one loud and clear. So, come on, keep it moving, let’s just get ’em over and done with, so I can get out of here and start my new life.”
I swallow hard, refusing to be either rushed or swayed, gazing at her as I stop at a light, determined she understand the full importance of this when I add, “And that includes Miles. Under no circumstances whatsoever can you tell him.”
She rolls her eyes and fiddles with her ring, twisting it around and around her middle finger, clearly tempted to flip it at me. “Fine. Can’t tell anyone. Got it,” she mumbles. “Next, please!”
“You can still eat real food.” I make my way through the intersection, slowly picking up speed. “But you won’t always want to, since the elixir pretty much fills you up and provides all the nutrients you need. But still, in public anyway, it’s important to keep up appearances, so you have to at least pretend like you’re eating.”
“Oh, like you?” She looks at me, brow arced, lip curled into a smirk. “You know, how you sit there at lunch, tearing your sandwich to shreds and crumbling your potato chips into tiny little bits and thinking no one notices? Is that what you’ve been doing all this time? Keeping up appearances? Cuz Miles and I just thought you had an eating disorder.”
I take a deep breath and focus on driving, keeping my speed light, refusing to let her get to me. Like the karma Damen’s always going on about—claiming that all of our actions cause a reaction—this is where my action has led me. Besides, even if I could go back and do it over again, I wouldn’t change a thing. I’d make the exact same choice as before. Because no matter how awkward this moment may be, it’s still better than attending her funeral, any day of the week.
“Omigod!” She looks at me, her mouth dropping, eyes going wide, voice all high and squeaky when she says, “I think—I think I heard that!”
My eyes meet hers, and despite the fact that the top is down, despite the fact that the Southern California summer sun is beating straight down on us, my skin goes instantly chilled.
This is not good. Not good at all.
“Your thoughts! You were thinking something about being glad you didn’t have to go to my funeral, right? I mean, I actually heard your words in my head. That is so cool!”
I immediately raise my shield, barring all access to my mind, my energy, everything, all of it. More than a little freaked by the fact that she was able to do that when I can’t read hers, and I haven’t even had a chance to show her how to shield herself yet.
“So you guys weren’t kidding, were you? About the whole telepathy thing? You and Damen really do read each other’s minds.”
I nod, slowly, reluctantly, as she surveys me with eyes that shine brighter than ever. What was once your everyday, basic shade of brown, often hidden by crazy-colored contacts, is now a brilliant swirl of gold, topaz, and bronze—yet another immortality side effect.
“I always knew you guys were weird—but this takes it to a whole new level. And now I can do it too! Jeez, I wish Miles was here.”
I close my eyes and shake my head, striving for patience and wondering how many more times I’ll have to repeat this, when I brake for a pedestrian and say, “But you can’t tell Miles—remember? We’ve already been over that.”
She shrugs, my words glancing right off her, as she twirls a chunk of glossy brown hair around and around her index finger, smiling as a black Bentley pulls up right beside us with some kid from our school behind the wheel.
“Fine. Fine! Seriously, I won’t tell him. Chillax already, would ya?” She zeros in on our classmate, smiling and flirting and waving, even going so far as to blow a series of air kisses at him, and then laughing when he does a double take. “The secret’s safe. I’m just used to telling him when exciting stuff happens, that’s all. It’s a habit. I’m sure I’ll get over it. But still, you gotta admit, it’s pretty dang cool, right? I mean, how’d you react when you first found out? Weren’t you totally psyched?” She looks at me, smiling when she adds, “No pun intended.”
I frown, pushing the gas harder than I meant to, the car lurching forward as my mind travels back to that very first day—or, at least the first time Damen tried to break the life-altering news out in the parking lot at school. But I wasn’t up for listening then. And I was pretty much as far from excited as it gets. Then, the second time he insisted on explaining our long and tangled past, I was still on the fence. I mean, on the one hand I thought it was pretty cool that we could finally be together after centuries of being kept apart. But on the other, it was a lot to take in. A lot to give up.