“Yes.” She smiles. “My peace is in knowing that we’ve all got our own journey—our own destiny to fulfill. And now, I finally know mine.” I look at her, seeing the way her face lights up when she adds, “I’m here to use my gifts to help those who need it, to live without fear, to trust that I’ll always have enough to get by, and to finish raising the twins in a way I failed to manage before.” She gives me a look, a look like she wants to reach out and hug me, but luckily she settles for running her hand through her hair and staying right where she is. “I’m sorry about what happened, Ever. I never thought it would end up like this. And while I may not approve of what you and Damen are, it’s really not my place to judge. You’ve got your own journey to walk.?
?
“Yeah? And what’s that?” I ask, my eyes meeting hers, surprised by the amount of yearning in my voice, hoping she might have some sort of clue as to just what it is that I’m here for. Because so far, I have no idea.
But Ava just shrugs, her kind brown eyes sparkling on mine when she says, “Oh, no.” She smiles and shakes her head. “I’m afraid that’s for you to discover all on your own. But believe me, Ever, I’ve no doubt it’s going to be big.”
twenty-four
By the time I get home, it’s late. And even though Damen offers to help me carry my gifts up the stairs and into my room, even though part of me is tempted to let him do exactly that, I just give him a quick kiss on the cheek and head in on my own. Wanting only to dive into the welcoming cocoon of my bed, so I can have the final hour of my birthday to myself.
I pick my way up the stairs, carefully, quietly, not wanting to alert Sabine whose light is peeking out from under her door. Having just dropped the bundle of presents onto my desk, when she pads down the hall and comes in.
“Happy Birthday.” She smiles, wrapped in a robe so creamy and plush it looks like a cloud of whipped cream. Squinting at the clock on my nightstand when she says, “It is still your birthday, right?”
“Seventeen.” I nod. “And not a day older.” Watching as she makes her way in and perches on the edge of my bed, eyeballing the pile of gifts—a couple of metaphysical books from Ava that I pretty much “read” the moment I touched them, an amethyst geode from Jude, a T-shirt that says NEVER SUMMON ANYTHING YOU CAN’T BANISH from Rayne (ha-ha), and another one with a colorful spiral symbol from Romy that probably came from the same Wiccan store, along with an iTunes gift card from Honor who handed it to me as she mumbled, “Um, because you seem to really like music with the way you’re always, you know, all plugged in and all.” Oh, and vase after vase of brilliant red tulips that Damen must’ve manifested the moment he drove away.
“That’s quite a bounty you got there,” she says as I take it all in, trying to see it in the same way she sees it, more as a celebration of my existence and less a reminder of those who are missing.
I drop onto my desk chair and kick off my sandals, sensing she’s here for a purpose and hoping she’ll hurry up and get to it.
“I won’t keep you long—it’s late and you’re probably tired,” she says, accurately reading my mood.
And even though I start to protest, out of politeness if nothing else, I don’t get very far before I stop. Because as nice as it is to visit with her, as seldom as I get to see her alone these days, I really do wish we could push this little visit to tomorrow. I’m just not up for one of her long, meandering talks.
But, of course, that particular mood she doesn’t sense, she just looks me over with her narrowed gaze when she says, “So, how’s everything—your job—Damen? I hardly ever see you these days.”
I nod, assuring her it’s all good, careful to put a little oomph into the word, hoping it’ll serve to convince her.
She nods, gaze lightening in relief when she adds, “Well, you look good. You got so thin there for a while that I—” She shakes her head, a trace of just how worried she was clouding her gaze and making me feel about this big. “But you seem to be filling out again. Your skin’s all cleared up too—which is good—” She presses down on her lips, as though carefully weighing what she’s about to say next, before plunging ahead. “You know, Ever, when I said I wanted you to work this summer, I didn’t exactly mean it quite in the way that you took it. I was referring more to a part-time gig, something to keep you occupied for a few hours each day, but the way you’ve been going at it—” She stops and shakes her head. “Well, I’m pretty sure you’re putting in more hours than I am. And now with just a handful of weeks until school starts again—well, I think you should consider giving notice, so you can enjoy a little time on the beach, spend some time with your friends.”
“What friends?” I shrug, feeling that sting at the back of each eye as my stomach takes a little dip. But still, I said it. Admitted a truth so painful, she can’t help but shift and gaze at the floor. Taking a moment to compose herself before lifting her eyes to meet mine and motioning toward the pile of birthday booty when she says, “Well, excuse me for saying so, but I think the evidence proves otherwise.”
I close my eyes and shake my head, furiously dabbing at my cheeks as I quickly turn away, thinking of the one friend who wasn’t there today, who probably won’t be there ever again, thanks to the monster and me.
“Hey—you okay?” She reaches toward me, wanting only to comfort, but pulling away just as quickly, remembering how finicky I am about being touched.
I take a deep breath and nod, knowing how much she worries, and wishing I hadn’t dragged her into this. Because the truth is, I am okay. Like she said, my clothes no longer hang on me, my skin is clear, my relationship is back on track, and that horrible beast, that strange foreign pulse that once ruled me, hasn’t been seen or heard from since that night on the beach. And even though there will always be that huge gaping hole my family’s absence has left, even though I’ll have to say good-bye to Sabine someday soon, Damen will always be there. If he’s proved nothing else this past year, it’s clear that he’s fully committed to me—to us. No matter how bad things get, he’s not the least bit put off. And in the end, that’s all I can ask. Everything else, well, it just is what it is.
I look at Sabine and nod, firmer this time, like I truly do mean it. I made up my mind months ago, pledged my allegiance to immortality and now there’s no looking back—just a long forward march into infinity.
“Just a small case of the birthday blues, I guess.” Looking at her when I add, “Surely you’re familiar with the pain of growing older?” Smiling in a way that starts at my lips but creeps all the way up to my eyes—a smile that encourages her to smile too.
“You have my sympathies.” She laughs. “Though you’ll have them even more when it’s your turn to be forty.” She rises from the bed and makes for the door, hands buried deep in the pockets of her robe when she says, “Oh, I almost forgot, I left a few things on your dresser over there.” She nods in that general direction. “The one from me—well, I think you’ll be surprised when you see it. I know I was when I found it, but I was also hoping you could carve out some time from your busy schedule so that we could have lunch and go shopping.”
I nod. “I’d like that,” I tell her, realizing just after I said it that I really, really would. It’s been a while since we’ve enjoyed some good, girly fun.
“Oh, and the other one—the card”—she shrugs—“it came today. I found it shoved under the door when I got home. I have no idea who it’s from, though it’s clearly addressed to you.”
I glance at the dresser, taking in a rectangular package beside a large pink envelope that almost seems to—glow—only in a foreboding, ominous way.
“Anyway, I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday.” She peeks at the clock. “You’ve only got a few minutes left, so be sure to enjoy it!”
The second the door closes behind her I make for the dresser and grab the box. Its contents revealed the instant I touch it.
I tear off the paper as fast as I can, dropping the shredded bits to the floor and lifting the lid to reveal a slim, purple leather photo album containing all the photos Riley took on that fateful trip to the lake—including the one I saw in Summerland. And as I flip through them, I can’t help but wonder if she somehow arranged this—if she can see this—see me? But I don’t call out to her again, that never leads anywhere anymore. I just wipe my face of tears and whisper a quiet Thanks. Placing it on my nightstand, knowing I’ll want to keep it someplace close where I can look at it again and again. Then I reach for the envelope with my name inscribed on its front in an overly formal scrawl—sucking in my breath as it shimmers and glows in my hand, and knowing from the way my whole body chills it’s from him.
Tipping my nail under the flap, determined to get this over with fast, I glance at its pink, glittery cover before flipping it open and skimming the usual, preprinted message before my gaze drops to the lower left corner, where Roman’s written a note in his loopy, cursive scrawl, reads: