I stand there silently, hoping to hear more. Damen didn't even know there were immortal rogues until Drina went bad.
"I started it." He nods, his right hand over his heart. "I'm the founding father of the Immortal Rogue tribe. While it's true that your friend Damen gave us all the first drink, when the effects began to wear off, he left us to age and wither, refusing to give us more."
I shrug and roll my eyes. Granting someone over a century's worth of living is hardly what I'd call selfish.
"And that's when I started experimenting, learning from the world's greatest alchemists until I'd surpassed Damen's work."
"You call that a triumph? Turning evil? Taking and giving life at will? Playing God?"
"I do what I have to." He shrugs, inspecting his nails. "At least I didn't leave the remaining orphans to shrivel. Unlike Damen, I cared enough to track them down and save them. And yeah, every now and then I recruit someone new. Though I assure you there's no harm done to the innocent, only to those who deserve it,"
Our eyes meet, but I quickly look away. Damen and I should've seen this coming, shouldn't have assumed Drina was the end.
"So imagine my surprise when I show up here only to find this—little—urchin—huddling with Damen in her little magick circle, while her creepy twin runs around town, trying to piece an antidote together before nightfall." Roman laughs. "Quite a successful search too, I might add. You should've waited, Ever. You shouldn't have broken the circle. Those two deserve far more credit than you were willing to give them, but then, as I said, you do have a tendency to trust the wrong ones. Anyway, meanwhile back at the bungalow, I just kicked around here, waiting for you to show up and break the protective seal, like I knew you would."
"Why?" I gaze at Damen, then over at Rayne, still huddled in the corner, too frightened to move. "What difference does it make?"
"Well, it is what killed him." He shrugs. "He could've lived for days had you not broken through like that. Lucky for you I had the antidote on hand to bring him back. And even though there's a price, a huge hefty price, what's done is done, right? And now there's no going back. No. Going. Back. You understand that better than any of us now, don't you?"
"Enough," I say, my hands curled into fists.
Thinking I should get rid of him now, eliminate him for good. I mean, Damen's safe, Roman's not needed, so what harm could it do? Except that I can't. It's not right. I mean, Damen is safe. And I can't just go eliminating people just because I deem them no good. I can't abuse my power that way. Much is expected to those given much, and all that. I relax my fists, unfolding my fingers as he says, "That's a wise choice. You don't want to do anything too rash, even though soon you'll be tempted. Because you see, Ever, while Damen's going to be fine, perfectly fine and healthy and basically everything you could ever want him to be, I'm afraid that's just going to make it all the more difficult when you realize you can never be together."
I look at him, my fingers shaking, my eyes blazing, refusing to believe him Damen's going to live—I'm going to live—so what could possibly keep us apart?
"Don't believe me?" He shrugs. "Fine, go ahead, consummate your love and find out. It's not like I care. My loyalties to Damen ended centuries ago. So I'll have absolutely no qualms when you jump his bones and he ends up dead." He smiles, his eyes right on mine, and when he sees the incredulous look on my face, his smile grows into a laugh. A laugh so large it reaches toward the ceiling and shakes the walls of this room, before it settles all around us like a blanket of doom. "Have I ever lied to you, Ever? Go ahead, think about it. I'll wait. Haven't I been truthful all along? Oh, sure I may have saved a few of the smaller, insignificant details for last, which, though it may be quite naughty of me, really does add to the fun. But now, it seems we've come to the point of full disclosure, so I'd like to make it clear, crystal clear, that the two of you can never be together. No DNA exchange whatsoever. And in case you still don't get what that means, then allow me to spell it out by stating that no bodily fluids of any kind may ever be exchanged. And just in case you need a translation of that, well, it means you can't kiss, lick, spit into each other's mouths, share each other's elixir—oh, and of course, you also can't do what's yet to be done. Hell, you can't even cry on his shoulder over the fact that you can't do what's yet to be done. In short, you can't do anything. Or at least not with each other. Because if you do, Damen will die."
"I don't believe you," I say, my heart racing, my palms slick with sweat. "How is that even possible?"
"Well, I may not be a doctor or scientist by profession, but I did study with some of the greats back in the day. Do Albert Einstein, Max Planck, Sir Isaac Newton, or Galileo mean anything to you?" I shrug, wishing he'd stop name-dropping and get on with it already. "So, in the simplest terms, allow me to say that while the antidote alone would've saved him by stopping the receptors from multiplying additional aged and damaged cells, the moment we added your blood, we made sure that any future reintroduction of your DNA will only cause them to go active again, thereby reversing the entire process and killing him. But we don't need to go all Science Channel here, just know that you can never be together again. Never. Understood? Because if you do, Damen dies. And now that I've told you—the rest is up to you."
I stare at the ground, wondering what I've done, how I could've been stupid enough to trust him. Barely listening when he says, "And if you don't believe me, then go ahead, hop on board and give it a try. But when he keels over, don't come crying to me."
Our eyes lock, and just like that day at the lunch tables at school, I'm sucked inside the abyss of his mind. Feeling his longing for Drina, her longing for Damen, his longing for me, my longing for home, and knowing it's all resulted in this. I shake my head, wrenching myself from his grip as hesays, "Oh, look, he's waking! And looking as gorgeous and hunky as ever. Enjoy your reunion, darlin', but remember, don't enjoy it too much!"
I glance over my shoulder, seeing Damen beginning to stir, stretching his body and rubbing his eyes, then I lunge for Roman, wanting to hurt him, destroy him, make him pay for all that he did. But he just laughs and dances out of my way, heading for the door and smiling as he says, ''Trust me, you don't want to do that. You just might need me someday."
I stand before him, shaking with rage, tempted to plunge my fist into his most vulnerable chakra and watch him vanish forever.
"I know you don't believe it now, but why don't you take a moment to think about it. Now that you can no longer cuddle with Damen, you're about to become very lonely, very quickly. And since I pride myself on being the forgiving type, I'd be more than willing to fill your void." I narrow my eyes and raise my fist. "And then—there's the small, inconsequential fact that there just may be an antidote to the antidote—" His eyes meet mine as I suck in my breath. "And since I created it, only I would know for sure. So, the way I see it, you eliminate me, you eliminate any hope of the two of you ever being together. Is that a risk you're willing to take?"
We stand there, the two of us joined in the most hideous way, our eyes locked, unmoving, until Damen calls my name. And when I turn, all I see is him. Returned to his usual splendor as he rises from the futon and I rush to his arms. Feeling his wonderful warmth as he presses his body to mine, gazing at me in the way that he used to—as though I'm the most important thing in his world. I bury my face in his chest, his shoulder, his neck, my entire body thrumming with tingle and heat as I whisper his name again and again, my lips moving across the cotton of his shirt, summoning his warmth, his strength, wondering how I'll ever find the words to confess the horrible thing that I've done.
"What happened?" he asks, his eyes on mine as he pulls away. "Are you okay?"
I glance around the room, noticing Roman and Rayne are both gone. Then I peer into his deep dark eyes as I say, "You don't remember?"
He shakes his head.
"None of it?"
He shrugs. "The last thing I remember is Friday night, at the play. And then after—" He squints.
"What is this place? Surely this isn't the Montage?"
I lean into his body as we head for the door. Knowing I have to tell him—sooner rather than later—but wanting to put it off for as long as I can. Wanting to enjoy the fact that he's back—that he's alive and well and we're together again. Heading down the steps and unlocking my car as I say, "You were sick. Very sick. But now you're better. But it's kind of a long story, so—" I shove the key in the ignition, as he places his hand on my knee.
"So where do we go from here?" he asks, as I shift into reverse. Feeling his gaze as I take a deep breath and pull onto the street, determined to ignore the much larger question in his question, when I smile and say, "Anywhere we want. The weekend starts now."