Everlasting (The Immortals #6)(20)

“ It ’ s not evil,” Damen says, deciding to contribute since he has virtual y no choice but to be here ’til it’s over. “It’s an ancient alchemical symbol of life, death, rebirth—immortality.” He lifts his shoulders, gazing around the room but settling on no one in particular. “A whole slew of theologies have adopted it again and again throughout history, al of them attributing their own meanings to it, but it’s not evil.

Although Roman and his rogues adopted it and

made it seem that way, on its own, it bears no il wil .”

He nods, meets the wal again, his speech halted, or at least for now anyway.

“O- kay…” Rayne smirks. “If I ever have to write a term paper on it, I’l go straight to you, but for now, back to the tattoos.” She shakes her head, fal ing just shy of rol ing her eyes. Her complete and total adoration of Damen is the only thing that spares him from that.

“What’s the other one?” she asks, turning back to Jude.

“The other is the Japanese symbol for the lotus blossom. I thought an actual flower seemed… wel…

a little girly.”

She peers at him, brow arched high.

“I was younger, less evolved, what can I say?”

He lifts his shoulders and swipes a hand over his hair.

“And—so—where’s that one?” she ventures, but

Jude just flashes his palm and shakes his head, terminating that particular topic right then and there. Rayne turns to Ava, shooting her a dark, angry glare, her eyes narrowing even further when Ava just laughs in reply. And from what I can hear of the thoughts swirling between them, Rayne’s been begging for a tattoo for the past several weeks, and can’t understand why she’s forced to wait another five years until she’s eighteen. Having been around for three centuries already, the majority of which was spent in Summerland living as a refugee from the Salem Witch Trials, she doesn’t see why her time served there can’t be recognized here.

But it’s hardly my argument, so I tune out just as quickly as I tuned in, more than a little eager to get back on track.

“So anyway, what about the song?” Miles asks.

“How did it go again? Something about rising from the mud toward the sky, or the dreamy sky, or… or something?”

“From the mud it shall rise, lifting upward toward vast dreamy skies, just as you—you—you shall rise too, ” I sing, my voice echoing the same tune Lotus used.

“So obviously she thinks you’re like the lotus flower,” Romy adds, while her twin, stil miffed about the tattoo, and never having been a fan of mine despite the recent bear hug she gave me in Summerland after seeing I’d survived Haven’s attack, slumps down in her seat and levels her steely gaze right on me. Clearly doubting the truth of such a thing, and choosing then and there to side with Damen, thinking for sure the old lady has got to be crazy to see that kind of promise in me.

“And the rest, how did it go?” Miles prompts.

“From the deep and dark depths it struggles toward the light…”

“Again, lotus flower.” Romy nods, tapping the page of the book with her pink painted nail, seemingly pleased with herself.

“Desiring only one thing—the truth! The truth of its being. ”

“Your destiny.” Ava nods. Dashing any hope that she just might know what that is when she adds,

“Whatever that may turn out to be.”

“Okay, and…” Miles’s head bobs as his pen

“Okay, and…” Miles’s head bobs as his pen races across the page, writing it al down.

“ Um, okay…” I stal , trying to remember where I left off, where it goes from there. “Oh yeah, then it goes: But will you let it? Will you let it rise and blossom and grow? Or will you damn it to the depths? Will you banish its worn and weary soul? ”

“So basical y you’re the lotus blossom, or, at least the keeper of the lotus blossoms, and you’re either gonna let them fulfil their destiny and bloom, or, more likely, you’re gonna screw it al up and damn them to the depths.”

“Rayne!” Ava scolds.

But Rayne just shrugs, claiming, “What? It’s not li k e I said ‘damn’, the song did. I was merely repeating.”

“That is not what I meant and you know it. Your intent far outweighs your words.” Ava’s face darkens.

“Sorry,” Rayne mumbles, and though she looks

at me when she says it, it was clearly for Ava’s benefit.

“You know what this reminds me of?” Damen says, prompting us al to turn, surprised to hear him speak up again. “It reminds me of 1968 when the Beatles released the White Album after their stay in India. Everyone was trying to interpret the lyrics, searching for some kind of deeper meaning, and, as it turned out, most of them were wrong—some of which ended in tragic results.”

“Charles Manson.” Jude nods, leaning back in his seat again, his fingers picking at the ancient Mayan symbol on the front of his T-shirt. “He thought the entire album contained an apocalyptic message, cal ing for a race war, and he used it to justify kil ing the wealthy, which he and his family of fol owers did.”

I shudder. I can’t help it. The whole idea is too creepy. Stil , that’s hardly what we’re doing here, and I’ve a pretty good idea Damen knows it.