Shadowland (The Immortals #3)(87)



“Where are you going?” I squint, trying to peer into his energy but not getting anywhere.

Haven looks at me, brow raised, smile on her face as Roman throws his arm around her shoulder and says, “Private party. But there’s room for you, Ever. Maybe you can stop by a little later, you know, when you’re done here.”

My eyes meet his, holding his gaze until I break away and focus on Haven again. And even though I promised I wouldn’t do it, I peer right through her aura and into her mind, eager to see what’s lurking in there, what’s really going on, but not getting very far before I’m stopped, run up against a brick wall someone’s placed in my path.

“You all right?” Roman asks, squinting at me, as he opens the door. “You look a little—peaked.”

I take a deep breath and narrow my gaze, about to say something more when Jude comes up and says, “Someone just hurled on the rug.”

And even though my attention’s only pulled for a moment, it’s still long enough for them to exit. Roman glancing over his shoulder, looking at me when he says, “Sorry to bail on you, Ever. Though I’m sure we’ll meet later.”





forty-seven


I was expecting it to be Miles, but it turns out he’s fine. Helping to mop up the mess as he smiles and says, “And that’s what you call acting. Viva Firenze!” He pumps his fist in the air.

“So really, you’re fine?” I hand him a clean towel, feeling bad for making him go through the motions when as soon as everyone leaves, I’ll just make it vanish and manifest a new one. “You’re not drunk?”

“Not at all! But the point is, you thought I was.”

I shrug. “The slurring, the loss of balance—all the signs were present and accounted for.”

He rolls up the towel, about to hand it to me when Jude appears by my side and takes it instead. “Laundry?” he asks, brow raised.

But I just shake my head and point toward the trash, looking at Miles as I ask, “So who did it, who brought the booze?”

“Oh, no.” He shakes his head and holds up his hands. “I’m sorry to break it to you, Ever, but this little get-together you orga nized, is also what’s known as a party. And even if you don’t serve it, it’ll still find its way in. You’ll get no information from me.” He clamps his lips shut, pulling the imaginary zipper that seals them, before adding, “I say you just ditch this old thing.” He points at the rug. “Seriously, I’ll help roll it up. All we have to do is move the furniture around and Sabine won’t even notice it’s gone.”

But I just shake my head, this vomit-covered rug is the least of my concerns now that Roman’s no longer playing along. Taking Haven on some mysterious appointment I can’t seem to crack, and what was that bit about us meeting up later? Was that a reference to the binding spell—or—something else?

Miles leans in to hug me, gathering me into his arms and giving me a really tight squeeze when he says, “Thanks for the party, Ever. And even though I don’t know what’s going on between you and Damen, I have one thing to say and I hope you’ll listen and take me seriously. Ready?” He quirks his brow and pulls away.

I shrug. My mind preoccupied, in some other place.

“You deserve to be happy.” He nods, gaze intense, focused on mine. “And if Jude makes you happy, then you shouldn’t feel bad about that.” He waits, waits for me to respond in some way, but when I don’t he adds, “Party’s pretty much over once someone hurls, right? So we’re gonna bolt. But we’ll get together before Florence, okay?”

I nod, watching as he and his friends all head for the door, calling, “Hey, Miles, did Haven or Roman mention where they’re going?”

Miles looks at me, brows merged when he says, “Fortune-teller.”

I squint, stomach sinking though I’ve no idea why.

“Remember the other day when she wanted to book one?”

I nod.

“She mentioned it to Roman and he arranged a private reading.”

“This—late?” I look to my wrist to confirm the time though I’m not wearing my watch.

But Miles just shrugs and heads for the car, making me wonder if I should head out too. Try to catch up with Roman and Haven and make sure she’s okay. But when I try to tune in to her energy again, I don’t get very far. In fact, I don’t get anything at all.

About to try again when Jude comes up and says, “You really need to ditch that rug. Smells awful.”

I nod, distracted, unsure what to do.

“You know what helps?”

“Coffee grounds,” I mumble, remembering how my mom used it once when Buttercup ate something bad and got sick in Riley’s room.

“Well, yeah, that, but I was thinking more like getting away from the stench. Always works for me.”

I look at him, his face lighting into a smile.

“Seriously.” He slips his arm through mine and leads me outside. “What’s the point of going to all that trouble, going all out with the decorations and food, doing all that you can for your friend’s going-away pool party, when you spend the entire night on the sidelines, watching, observing, but not once diving in?”

I look away. “The party was for Miles, not me.”

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