Shadowland (The Immortals #3)(17)

“Or maybe I’ve forced something that was never meant to be.” He frowns. “Did you ever think of that?”

I look away, taking in the surrounding beauty, knowing words alone can never change any of this. Only action can help. And lucky for us, I know just where to start.

I stand, pulling him up alongside me as I say, “Come on. We don’t need Roman—don’t need anyone—I know just the place!”





eight


We head for the Great Halls of Learning. Stopping just shy of its steep marble steps as I peer at him, wondering (hoping!) he can see what I see—the ever-changing fa?ade that’s required for entry.

“So you really did find it,” he says, voice tinged with awe as we watch the revolving collection of the most sacred and beautiful places on Earth. The Taj Mahal morphing into the Parthenon, which turns into the Lotus temple, which becomes the Great Pyramids of Giza, and so on. Our mutual acknowledgment of its beauty and wonder allowing us into the grand marble hall lined with elaborately carved columns straight out of ancient Greek times.

Damen gazes around, face a mask of absolute wonder as he takes it all in. “I haven’t been here since—”

I peer at him, holding my breath, dying to know the details of the last time he was here.

“Since I came to find you.”

I squint, unsure what that means.

“Sometimes—” He looks at me. “I was lucky enough to just happen upon you, ending up in the same place at just the right time. Though more often than not I’d have to wait a few years before it was proper to meet.”

“You mean you were spying on me?” I gape, hoping it wasn’t nearly as creepy as it sounds. “When I was a kid?”

He cringes, averting his gaze when he says, “No, not spying, Ever. Please. What do you take me for?” He laughs and shakes his head. “It was more like—keeping tabs. Patiently waiting until the time was right. But the last few times when I was unable to find you, no matter how hard I tried—and believe me, I tried, living like a nomad, wandering from place to place, sure I’d lost you forever—I decided to come here. And I ran into some friends who showed me the way.”

“Romy and Rayne.” I nod, neither hearing nor seeing the answer in his head, but somehow sensing it’s true. Overcome by an immediate rush of guilt for failing to even think of them until now. Not even wondering how they might be, where they might be, until a second ago.

“You know them?” He squints, clearly surprised.

I press my lips together, knowing I’ll have to tell him the rest of the story, the parts I’d hoped to omit.

“They led me here too—” I pause, taking a deep breath and looking away, preferring to take in the room than meet his quizzical gaze. “They were at Ava’s—or at least Rayne was. Romy was out—” I shake my head and start again. “She was out trying to help you when you—”

I close my eyes and sigh, deciding to just show him instead. Everything. All of it. Including the parts I was too ashamed to put into words. Projecting the events of that day until there are no more secrets between us. Letting him know how hard they fought to save him, while I was too stubborn, refusing to listen.

But instead of being upset like I feared, he places his hands on my shoulders, gazing at me with forgiveness as he thinks, What’s done is done. We have to move forward, there’s no looking back.

I swallow hard and meet his gaze, knowing he’s right. It’s time to get started, but where to begin?

“It’s better if we split up.” He nods, his words a surprise to my ears, and I’m just about to speak when he adds, “Ever, think about it. You’re trying to find something to reverse the effects of the elixir I drank, while I’m trying to save you from the Shadowland, not exactly the same thing.”

I sigh, disappointed but having to agree. “I guess I’ll see you back at the house then. My house, if that’s okay?” I place my hand over his and give it a squeeze, reluctant to revisit his depressingly barren room and unsure where he stands on the whole karma curse thing now that his memory’s returned.

And no sooner has he nodded and closed his eyes than he’s vanished from sight.

So I take a deep breath and close my eyes too, thinking:

I need help. I’ve made a huge and horrible mistake and I don’t know what to do. I need to either find an antidote to the antidote—something that’ll reverse the effects of what Roman’s done—or find a way to get to him, convince him to cooperate with me—but only in a way that won’t require me to—um—seriously compromise myself in a way I’m not comfortable with . . . if you know what I mean . . .

Focusing my intention, replaying the words again and again. Hoping it’ll grant access to the akashic records, the permanent record of everything that has, is, or ever will be done. Praying I won’t be shut out again like the last time I was here.

But this time, when I hear that familiar buzz, instead of the usual long hallway leading to a mysterious room, I find myself right smack in the middle of a cineplex, its lobby empty, snack bar abandoned, with no clue of what I should do until a set of double doors opens before me.

I step inside a dark theater with sticky floors, worn seats, and the scent of buttery popcorn permeating the air. Squeezing down the aisle and choosing the best seat in the house, the one halfway down and dead center, I prop my feet on the chair just before me as the lights go dim and a big tub of popcorn appears in my lap. Watching the red drapes retract as the large crystal screen begins to flicker and flare in a profusion of images that quickly race past.