Dark Flame (The Immortals #4)(46)
“And—” I try to say it, try to tell him what’s happening to me, but I can’t. The beast is awake, the dark magick’s taking hold, and I’m barely hanging on as it is. I shake my head, nervously picking at the faux tortoiseshell buttons lining the front of my sweater, as I say, “And—nothing. Seriously, that’s it. I just hoped it would heal him, and apparently it did.”
Damen considers me, his face composed, relaxed, as though he completely understands. And the thing is, he does understand. He understands way beyond my own fumbling words. He understands all too well.
“So, since we were already there, I figured I’d show him around, and the second he saw the Hall, well, he rushed inside—and the rest—as they say—is history.” My gaze meets his, the irony of the word lost on neither of us.
“And did you join him—in the Hall?” His eyes narrow to slits, looking at me as though he already knows—knows that I’m no longer welcome there—but wants to hear me say it. Wants the full confession as to just how dark and twisted I’ve become.
I take a deep breath and casually push my hair off my face. “No, I just—” I pause, wondering if I should tell him about my trail ride to no-man’s-land, but quickly deciding against it—wondering if maybe what I witnessed was more a reflection of me—my inner state—than an actual place. “I, uh, I just hung around and waited.” I shrug. “I mean, I got a little bored and definitely thought about leaving and all, but I also wanted to make sure he could find his way home, so I—um—I hung out.” I nod, a little too forcefully, in a way that’s not even close to being convincing.
The two of us exchanging a long, painful look, both of us aware that I’m lying—that I just gave what is quite possibly one of my worst performances ever. And for some strange, unknown reason, he grants me a shrug so final, so dismissive, I can’t help but feel disappointed. That small, sane, glimmer of me wishing he’d find a way to coax it out of me, so we could be done with all this. But he just continues to look at me, until I turn away and say, “Nice to know you’ll still visit Summerland on your own, even though you refuse to go there with me.” Knowing he doesn’t deserve that, but still, there it is.
He grabs hold of my swing and pulls me to him, jaw clenched, fingers squeezing the chain, words coming from between gritted teeth when he says, “Ever, I didn’t go there for me—I went there for you.”
I swallow hard, and as much as I want to look away, I can’t, my gaze is locked on his.
“I tried to find a way to reach you—to help you. You’ve been so distant—not at all like yourself, and it’s been days since we’ve spent any real time together. It’s pretty clear you’re doing your best to avoid me, you never want to be with me anymore, at least not here on the earth plane.”
“That’s not true!” The words come out too high-pitched and shaky to ever be believed, but I forge ahead anyway. “I mean, apparently you haven’t noticed, but I’ve been working a lot lately. So far my summer’s been spent shelving books, working the register, and giving psychic readings under the code name of Avalon. So, yeah, maybe I want to spend my spare time indulging myself in a little escape—is that so bad?” I press my lips together and look him right in the eye, knowing most of that was true and wondering if he’ll call me on the parts that aren’t.
But he just shakes his head, refusing to be swayed. “And now that Jude’s better—now that you’ve healed him with a trip to Summerland—I can’t help but wonder what excuse you’ll find next.”
I suck in my breath and avert my gaze, surprised to hear him answer like that, and the truth is, I have no idea how to respond, no idea what comes next. Kicking a small pebble with the toe of my shoe, unable to confide, too tired and beaten to come up with anything else.
“You know, you used to be as bright and shining here on the earth plane as you were today in Summerland.” I swallow hard and bow my head, hardly believing my ears when he goes on to say, “I know about the magick, Ever.” His voice low, almost a whisper, though the words reverberate like a scream. “I know you’re in way over your head. And I wish you’d let me help you.”
I stiffen. My whole body stiffens as my heart crashes violently against my chest.
“I know the signs—the jitteriness, the lying, the weight loss, the—diminished appearance. You’re an addict, Ever. Addicted to the dark side of magick. Jude never should’ve gotten you into this.” He shakes his head, his gaze never once leaving me. “But the sooner you admit it, the sooner I can help make you better.”
“It’s not—” I struggle to speak, but the words won’t come. The monster’s in control, dead set on blowing us apart. “Isn’t that why you went to the Great Halls of Learning? So you could help me?” I look at him, seeing the way his expression changes to one of hurt surprise. But it’s not enough to stop the beast, nope, not even close. This train is just now pulling out of the station and still has a long way to go. “So tell me, what did you see? What did the almighty akashic records share with you?”
“Nothing,” he says, voice tired, full of defeat. “I didn’t learn a thing. Apparently when the problem is of the person’s own making, access is forbidden where others are concerned. I’m banned from interfering in any way, shape, or form.” He shrugs. “It’s all part of the journey I guess. Still, one thing is clear, Ever. Last Thursday night, Roman mentioned a spell—and ever since Jude gave you that book nothing’s been the same—with you—between us—everything’s changed.” He looks at me, waiting for confirmation, but it won’t come, can’t come. “You two share a long and complicated history—and it’s quite clear he’s not over you yet. And I can’t help but feel that he’s getting in the way—that magick is getting in the way, and, Ever, it’ll destroy you if you’re not careful—I’ve seen it happen before.”