Evermore (The Immortals #1)(82)

I shut my eyes and cringe, waiting for the end, and now that it's inevitable, I hope it comes soon. But when my head clears and my stomach calms, I open them again to find Drina staggering back toward the wall, clutching her chest, and staring accusingly.

"Damen!" she wails, looking right past me. "Don't let her do this to me, to us—"

I turn, to see him standing beside me, gazing at Drina and shaking his head. "It's too late," he says, taking my hand, entwining his fingers with mine. "It's time for you to go, Poverina."

"Don't call me that!" she wails, her once amazing green eyes now blurred by red. "You know how I hate that!"

"I know," he says, squeezing my fingers as she shrivels and ages then fades from our sight, a black silk dress and designer shoes the only evidence she ever existed.

"How—" I turn to Damen, searching for answers.

But he just smiles, and says, "It's over. Absolutely, completely, eternally over." He pulls me into his arms, covering my face in a trail of warm wonderful kisses, promising, "She'll never bother us again."

"Did I—kill her?" I ask, not quite sure how I feel about that, despite what she did to my family, and all the times she claimed to have killed me.

He nods.

"But—how? I mean, if she's immortal, then wasn't I supposed to cut off her head?"

He shakes his head and laughs. "What kind of books are you reading?" Then his face becomes very serious when he says, "It doesn't work like that. There's no beheading, no wooden stakes, no silver bullets, it all comes down to the simple fact that revenge weakens and love strengthens. Somehow you managed to hit Drina right in her most vulnerable spot."

I squint, not quite understanding. "I hardly touched her," I say, remembering how my fist met her chest, but just barely.

"The fourth chakra was your target. And you hit the bull's eye."

"Huh?"

"The body has seven chakras. The fourth chakra, or heart chakra as it's sometimes called, is the center of unconditional love, compassion, the higher self, all of the things Drina was lacking. And that left her defenseless, weakened. Ever, her lack of love is what killed her."

"But if she was so vulnerable, why didn't she guard it, protect it?"

"She was unaware, deluded, led by her ego. Drina never realized how dark she'd become, how resentful, how hateful, how possessive—"

"And if you knew all that, why didn't you tell me before?" He shrugs. "It was just a theory I had. I've never killed an immortal, so I wasn't sure if it would work. Until now."

"You mean there are others? Drina's not the only one?"

He opens his mouth as if to say something, but then closes it firmly. And when I look in his eyes I see a flash of—regret, remorse? But just as quickly, it's gone.

"She said some things about you, and your past—"

"Ever," he says. "Ever, look at me." He tilts my chin until I finally do. "I've been around a long time—"

"I'll say, six hundred years!"

He cringes. "Give or take. The point is, I've seen a few things, done a few things, and my life hasn't always been so good or so pure. In fact, most of it's been quite the opposite." I start to pull away, not sure if I'm ready to hear this, but he pulls me back to him and says, "Trust me, you're ready to hear this, because the truth is I'm not a murderer, I'm also not evil. I just—"He pauses. "I just enjoyed a taste for the good life. And yet, every time I met you, I was willing to throw it all away, just to be near you."

I yank free, this time successfully. Thinking: Oh jeez! Oh no!

Classic case of boy losing girl, only this time it's over and over again, spanning the centuries, each time ending before they can do the deed. No wonder he's interested, I'm the one who keeps getting away! I'm like a living, breathing, forbidden fruit! Does this mean I have to remain a virgin for eternity? Disappear every few years just to keep his interest? I mean, now that we're stuck with each other for all of eternity, the moment the deed is done it's just a matter of time before this particular train arrives in Boring Town U.S.A. and he'll be looking to enjoy the "good life" again.

"Stuck with me? That's how you see it? As though you'll be stuck with me, for all of eternity?" And the way he looks at me I can't tell if he's amused or offended.

My cheeks burn, having temporarily forgotten that my thoughts are not at all private where he's concerned. "No, I was afraid you'd feel that way about me. I mean, it's classic love story fodder—the one who got away—again and again and again! No wonder you've remained so entranced!

It had nothing to do with me! You've spent six hundred years trying to get in my pants!"

"Petticoats, pantaloons, trust me, pants didn't come into fashion until much, much later." But when I don't laugh, he pulls me to him and says, "Ever, it has everything to do with you. And if you don't mind my saying, it's been my experience that the best way to deal with eternity is by living it one day at a time."

He kisses me, but only briefly, before he shifts his body and starts to pull away, but I grab hold of his hand, and pull him back to me. "Don't go," I say, gazing at him. "Please don't ever leave me again."