Shadowland (The Immortals #3)(35)
But before I can finish, I realize something—Damen is touching me.
Like touching me touching me.
For reals.
No glove, no telepathic embrace, just good old-fashioned skin-on-skin contact—or at least, almost contact.
“How’d you—” I look at him, his eyes shining with laughter when he catches me gaping at his bare, gloveless hand.
“You like?” He smiles, grasping my arm and lifting it high, both of us watching as the thin veil of energy, the only thing separating my skin from his, pulsates between us. “I’ve been working on it all day. Nothing’s going to keep me from you, Ever. Nothing.” He nods, his gaze meeting mine.
I look at him, mind racing with possibilities, of all this could mean. Enjoying the almost feel of his skin, separated only by the thinnest shroud of pure, vibrating energy, invisible to everyone but us. And while it does somewhat temper the usual rush of tingle and heat, and while it could never compare to the real thing, I miss him so much—just being with him—I’ll take what I can get.
I lean into him, watching the veil expand until it stretches from our heads to our toes. Allowing us to lie together in the way that we used to—or at least almost in the way that we used to.
“Much better.” I smile, hands roaming his face, his arms, his chest. “Not to mention how it’s far less embarrassing than the black leather glove.”
“Embarrassing?” He pulls away and looks at me, mock outrage displayed on his face.
“Come on.” I laugh. “Even you have to admit it was a total fashion faux pas. I thought Miles was going to have a seizure every time he saw it,” I murmur, inhaling his wonderful, warm, musky scent as I bury my face in his neck. “So how’d you do it?” My lips grazing his skin, longing to taste every last inch. “How’d you harness the magick of Summerland and bring it back here?”
“It’s got nothing to do with Summerland,” he whispers, lips at the curve of my ear. “It’s just the magick of energy. Besides, you should know by now that most everything you can do there, can be done here as well.”
I gaze at him, remembering Ava and all the elaborate gold jewelry and designer clothes she used to manifest there, and how upset she always was when they didn’t survive the return trip home.
But before I can even mention it, he says, “While it’s true that the things manifested there can’t be transferred here, if you understand how the magick works, if you truly get how everything is really just made up of energy, then there’s no reason you can’t manifest the same things here. Like your Lamborghini, for instance.”
“I’d hardly call it my Lamborghini,” I say, cheeks flushing despite the fact that it wasn’t so long ago when he had a thing for exotic cars too. “The second I was done with it I sent it right back. I mean, it’s not like I kept it.”
He smiles, burying his hand in my hair and smoothing the ends between the tips of his fingers. “In between manifesting things for the twins, I perfected it.”
“What kinds of things?” I ask, moving so I can better see him, immediately distracted by the sight of his lips, remembering how warm and silky they once felt on mine, wondering if this new energy shield will allow us to experience that again.
“It all started with the flat-screen TV.” He sighs. “Or, should I say flat screens since they ended up requiring one for each of their rooms, plus another two for the den that they’ll share. And not long after I got them all hooked up and working, they sat down to watch and not five minutes in they were inundated with images of things they couldn’t live without.”
I squint, surprised to hear that, since the twins never seemed to care all that much about material things back in Summerland, but maybe that’s because material things tend to lose most of their value once you can manifest whatever you want. I guess losing their magick has made them just like anyone else—longing for everything just out of their reach.
“Trust me, they’re an advertiser’s dream.” He smiles, shaking his head. “Falling right into that coveted youth market of thirteen to thirty.”
“Except for the fact that you didn’t actually buy any of those things, did you? You just closed your eyes and made them appear. Hardly the same as going to the store and charging it on your credit card. In fact, do you even have a credit card?” Never having seen him even carry a wallet, much less a pile of plastic.
“No need.” He laughs, finger skimming the bridge of my nose before his lips meet the tip. “But even though I didn’t actually go out and buy all of those things as you so generously pointed out . . .” He smiles. “That doesn’t make those commercials any less effective, which was really my point.”
I pull away, knowing he’s expecting me to laugh, or at least say something lighthearted in reply, but I can’t. And even though I hate to disappoint him, I still shake my head and say, “Either way, you need to be careful.” I shift my body so my gaze can better meet his. “You shouldn’t spoil them so much, or make them so comfortable they’re reluctant to leave.” He squints at me, clearly not following my meaning, so I rush ahead to explain. “What I mean is, you need to remember that living with you is a temporary solution. Our main goal is to look after them until we can restore their magick and get them back to Summerland, which is where they belong.”