Shadowland (The Immortals #3)(42)

“Can we get a cat?” Romy asks. “A black kitty like this?” Tugging on his sleeve while gazing at him in a way that’s hard to resist. “They’re wonderful companions and very good around the house. What do you say? Can we? Please?”

“It’ll help us get our magick back,” Rayne adds, nodding at him.

I look at Damen, reading his expression and knowing it’s as good as done. Whatever the twins want, the twins get. It’s as simple as that.

“We’ll discuss it later,” Damen says, attempting a stern look, but the gesture’s empty, everyone knows it but him.

I get up from the couch and head for the door, needing to get Charm back to the house before Haven returns.

“Are you upset with me?” Damen grasps my hand and leads me to my car.

I shake my head and smile. It’s impossible to be mad at him, or at least not for very long. “I’m not gonna lie, I was hoping you’d be on my side.” I shrug, coaxing Charm into her carrier, before leaning against the door and pulling him close. “But it’s not like I don’t get your point. I just wanted to help Haven, that’s all.”

“Just be there for her.” He nods, dark gaze on mine. “That’s all she really wants from you anyway.”

He leans in to kiss me, gathering me into his arms, his hands moving over me and warming me to my core. Pulling away to gaze at me with those deep soulful eyes, the rock to my feather, my eternal partner, whose intentions are so solid and good I can only hope he never learns of my betrayal, reneging on my promise not to visit Roman just after saying I wouldn’t.

He cups my face between the palms of his hands and peers into my eyes. Sensing my mood shifts so easily it’s as though they are his.

I avert my gaze, thinking about Haven, Roman, the cat, and all the mounting mistakes I can’t seem to stop making. Then clearing the thoughts and shaking my head, unwilling to visit that place when I say, “See you tomorrow?” Barely finishing the words before he leans in to kiss me again, a slip of energy pulsating between his lips and mine.

Holding the moment for as long as we can, neither of us willing to break away, until a twin chorus of, “Ew! Gross! Do we really have to watch that?” trails from the window upstairs.

“Tomorrow.” Damen smiles, seeing me safely into my car before heading inside.





nineteen


Everything started out fine. As fine and normal as any other day. I woke up, showered, dressed, stopped by the kitchen to toss some cereal down the sink before chasing it with some OJ I’d swished in a glass—my usual morning routine so Sabine will think I ate the breakfast she made.

Nodding and smiling the whole way to school as Miles yammers on and on about Holt, or Florence, or Holt and Florence, as I sit there beside him, stopping, turning, speeding, slowing, chasing yellow lights, waiting for the moment when I can see Damen again. Knowing the mere sight of him will turn all darkness to light, even if the effect is just temporary.

But the moment I pull into the lot the first thing I see is a mammoth-sized SUV parked right next to the space Damen’s saving for me. And I mean mammoth, as in: big and ugly. And something about the sight of Damen leaning against that whale of a car fills me with dread.

“What the hell?” Miles gapes. “You give up riding the bus so you can drive a bus instead?”

I climb out of my Miata, glancing between Big Ugly and Damen, hardly believing my ears when he starts quoting a slew of statistics about its superb safety rating and roomy back seats. I mean, I don’t remember him ever once caring about the safety rating when he was chauffeuring me.

That’s because you’re immortal, he thinks, sensing my thoughts as we head for the gate. But may I remind you, the twins are not, and since they are now in my care, it’s my job to keep them from harm.

I shake my head, gaze narrowed as I try to think of a snappy reply. My thoughts interrupted by Haven who says, “You’re doing it again.” She crosses her arms and glances between us. “You know, your whole, weird, pseudo telepathy thing.”

“Who even cares about that?” Miles screeches. “Damen’s driving a bus!” He hooks his thumb over his shoulder, jabbing toward the big, black monstrosity and wincing at the sight of it.

“Is it a bus or a mom car?” Haven squints, shielding her eyes from the sun. Glancing at each of us. “Whatever it is, one thing’s for sure, it’s tragically middle-aged.”

Miles nods, fully warmed up to the subject now. “First the glove and now this?” He frowns at Damen, disappointment clouding his face. “I have no idea what you’re up to, but dude, you are seriously losing your edge. You’re not even close to the rock star you were when you first came to this school.”

I glance at him, eyes narrowed in silent agreement. But Damen just laughs, too concerned with the proper care and feeding of the twins to bother with what anyone thinks—including me. And while that’s obviously the way a good, responsible, parental-type figure should think, something about it really bugs me.

Miles and Haven continue, teasing Damen about his new, surprisingly stodgy ways, as I tag along, a sliver of energy pulsating between us as he grabs my hand and thinks, What’s going on? Why are you acting like this? Is this because of the cat? I thought you understood all of that?

I stare straight ahead, focused on Miles and Haven, sighing loudly as I mentally reply: It’s not the cat. We settled that yesterday. She’s back at Haven’s, marking her days. It’s just—well, it’s like, here I am, making myself crazy, trying to find a solution so we can be together, and all you seem to care about is manifesting HDTVs and the world’s ugliest babyproof car so you can cart the twins around town! I shake my head, knowing I need to stop, before I go any further and really have something to regret.