Dark Flame (The Immortals #4)(54)

I step onto the patio, seeing Romy and Rayne lying on the grass, stringing necklaces from a large, gleaming bowl of crystals and beads, then draping them around the stone statue of Buddha, while Jude lounges alongside them, eyes closed, face tilted toward the sun, his arms back to new, courtesy of Summerland. And despite the surge of warmth, love, and security that tingles right through me as Damen leans into my shoulder and squeezes my hand, I can’t help but feel saddened when I gaze upon my supposed group of friends.

A woman I don’t like, much less trust; twins who openly resent me—one more than the other, but still; and an apparent love interest from the past who just so happens to be the longtime, bitter rival of my soul mate. And the only thing that makes me feel the slightest bit better is Miles, and the fact that if he wasn’t in Florence, he’d surely be here with me.

But not Haven.

After I became myself again and tried to explain it to her, she was still too irate to do anything but scream at me. And so I pretty much had no choice but to give her a little time to cool off—I just hope she’ll come around eventually and see what Roman is really about.

And standing here like this, with my sad little birthday party playing out before me—well, it only drives home the fact that I’ve lost her—her trust—her friendship—and I’ve no idea if I can ever get it back. I mean, just when we have more in common than ever before—just when I can finally share the secrets I’ve been hiding the whole time I’ve known her—I mess everything up so badly she ditches me for my immortal enemy.

I sigh under my breath, sure I can’t possibly feel any worse, when Honor squeezes through the French doors and heads straight for Jude. Dropping down beside him and arranging her dress so comfortably and casually I can’t help but gape. Can’t hide my openmouthed, gawking confusion when she turns to me and twists her wrist back and forth in an awkward little wave.

I nod, barely, imperceptibly, unable to speak past the lump in my throat, unable to make sense of this scene.

Are they dating? Or just hanging out because of their shared interest in magick? Did he truly not get it when I explained that we’re merely classmates not friends, and the huge gaping difference that divides the two?

And as my eyes sweep over them, all of them, I can’t believe this is it. That this is what it’s come to. Almost a year in this town, trying to forge some kind of life, and my only real lasting relationship is with Damen, which, truth be told, I’ve managed to push beyond all reasonable limits.

Ava clears her throat and offers us a drink, in what I’m sure is an attempt at a feigned bit of normalcy for Honor and Jude’s sake, since they’re pretty much the only ones here who don’t know the real truth about Damen and me—or at least not to the full extent anyway.

But I just shake my head and wave it away, convincing myself that it’s better like this, really and truly the only way. The fewer connections I make, the fewer good-byes I’ll have to say. But even though I know for a fact that it’s true, it doesn’t do much to fill up that big empty space lurking inside me.

I squeeze Damen’s hand, telepathically assuring him not to worry, to just stay put and I’ll be back soon. Then I make my way inside, at first thinking I’ll make for the bathroom, splash some cold water over my face and try to get some of that good feeling back, but when I see the door to Ava’s “sacred space” I duck in there instead. Startled to see the purple walls and indigo door transformed into a pastel haven of preppy décor—a room that’s got to be Romy’s since Rayne would never go for such a look.

I perch on the edge of her bed, fingers smoothing the soft green duvet as I gaze at the floor just before me, remembering the day when everything changed. The day I said good-bye to Damen, the day I was foolish enough to trust him to Ava’s care. So convinced I was doing the right thing—the only thing—little did I know how that one small choice would have such huge repercussions that would pretty much impact the rest of my life—the rest of eternity.

I take a deep breath and rest my head in my hands, telling myself to get up, get back out there, make an attempt at small talk, then find an excuse to leave. Rubbing my eyes and running my fingers through my hair and over my clothes, just about to do exactly that when Ava comes in and says, “Oh good, I’ve been hoping for a moment alone with you.”

I press my lips together, fighting the overwhelming urge to rush toward her and punch out all her chakras, if for no other reason than to see, once and for all, just whose side she’s really on. But I don’t. I don’t do a thing. Instead, I stay right where I am and wait for her to begin.

“You know, you’re right about me.” She nods, leaning against Romy’s dresser, legs crossed at the ankles, though her arms remain open and loose. “I did run off with the elixir. And I did leave Damen exposed and defenseless. There’s just no getting around it.”

I gaze at her, my heart beating frantically, even though I already knew it, even though Damen explained it to me, it’s a whole other experience to hear her actually admit it.

“But before you rush to conclusions, I’m afraid there’s a little more to it than that. Despite what you may think, I was never in cahoots with Roman. I wasn’t partnered with him, friendly with him, or working with him in any way, shape, or form. He came by for a reading once, yes, way back when I first started. And, to be honest, his energy was so off—so disconcerting—I gave him a silent blessing and sent him on his way. But the reason I did what I did—the reason I failed to look after Damen, well, it’s complicated—”