Shadowland (Immortals 3) - Page 19

I swallow hard, stomach like a hard bitter marble. Since when is two hundred years considered quickly? But I guess when you’re dealing with eternity everything is relative.

“It’s not a beauty contest,” I say, cringing when I hear the words spoken aloud. I mean, seriously, is that the best I could do?

“Of course it’s not, luv.” Roman shakes his head, pity in his gaze. “If it was, Drina would win.” He settles back, arms spread across the cushions, glass resting on top, daring me to respond. “Let me guess, you’ve convinced yourself it’s about two souls meeting as one, destined for each other, and all of that—puppy love?” He laughs, nodding when he adds, “That is what you’re thinking, right?”

“You don’t want to know what I’m thinking.” I narrow my gaze, determined to get to the point now that my patience’s dissolved. “I didn’t come here to be bored by your philosophical litanies, I came here because—”

“Because you want something from me.” He nods, setting do

wn his drink, glass meeting wood with a solid, wet thwomp. “In which case, I’m in the driver’s seat, which means you’re in no position to set the pace.”

“Why do you do this?” I shake my head, having grown bored with this game. “Why do you bother when you know I’m not interested? Surely you realize that no matter what you do to Damen and me, it’ll never bring Drina back. What’s done is done. It can never be changed. And, in the end, all of this game playing, all of this nonsense you engage in—all it really does is prevent you from living your life—from moving on.” I continue to stare, gaze unwavering, convincing. Projecting an image of him handing over the antidote and cooperating with me. “So, I’m asking you, in as reasonable a way as I can—please help me undo what you’ve done to Damen, so we can all coexist.”

He shakes his head, lids squinched tight. “Sorry, darlin’, the price is set. Now it’s just a matter of whether you’re willing to pay.”

I lean against the wall, tired, defeated, but not letting on. Knowing the one thing he wants is the one thing I’ll never give. The same old game Damen warned me about. “You’ll never have me, Roman. Never, ever, for as long as I—”

Not even getting to the more degrading, insulting part that comes next when he rises from the couch, moving so quickly his breath hits my cheek long before I can blink.

“Relax,” he whispers, face looming so close I can make out each flawless pore on his skin. “As much fun as that might be, providing an amusing diversion at least, I’m afraid that’s not it. I’m after something far more esoteric than a virginal shag. Though, if you’d like to make a go of it, no strings attached, then I assure you, darlin’, I’m certainly up for the task.” He smiles, deep blue eyes boring into mine, projecting the movie he plays in his head, the one starring him, and me, and a king-sized bed.

I look away, breath coming ragged, too fast, summoning every ounce of my will not to slam my knee in his groin when his nose glances my ear, my cheek, my neck, inhaling my scent.

“I know what you’re going through, Ever,” he murmurs, lips brushing the tip of my ear. “Longing for something so close and yet—you can never quite taste it. It’s the kind of pain most people will never experience. But we know, don’t we? You and I are joined in that way.”

I unclench my fists and fight to steady myself. Knowing I can’t risk doing anything rash, can’t afford to overreact.

“Not to worry.” He smiles, slipping just out of my reach. “You’re a smart girl. I’m sure you’ll figure it out. And if not—” He shrugs. “Well, nothing changes, right? Everything stays exactly the same. You and I with our fates intertwined—for all of infinity.”

He slips down the hall, moving so fast it’s a moment before I can make out his form. Tilting his head and urging me toward the door, practically pushing me onto his stoop when he says, “Sorry to cut this so short. Though I do so with your reputation in mind. If Damen ever found out you were here—well, that could be rather tragic for you, couldn’t it?”

He smiles, all shiny white teeth, golden hair, tanned skin, and blue eyes—the ultimate California poster boy beckoning—Come live the good life in Laguna Beach! And I’m furious with myself—furious for being so stupid—for not listening to Damen—for putting us further at risk. Handing Roman yet one more thing to lord over my head.

“Sorry you didn’t get what you came for, luv,” he purrs, his attention pulled by a vintage black Jaguar that pulls into the drive, containing a gorgeous dark-haired couple who head right inside. Closing the door behind them as he adds, “Whatever you do, steer clear of Marco’s car on your way out, he’ll flip if you so much as smudge it.”

twelve

I walk home. Or at least, that’s the direction I originally head in. But somewhere along the way I take a turn. And then another. And another. My feet moving so slowly they practically drag, knowing there’s no need to run, nothing to prove. Despite my strength and speed, I’m no match for Roman. He’s the master of this game and I’m merely his pawn.

I continue, deep into the heart of Laguna, or the Village, as it’s called. Too awake to go home, too ashamed to see Damen, making my way through the dark, empty streets until stopping before a small, well-tended cottage, with flowering plants flanking either side of the door and a woven welcome mat placed just so, making it appear warm, friendly, completely benign.

Only it’s not. Not even close. Now it’s more like a crime scene. And unlike the last time I was here, this time I don’t bother knocking. There’s no point. Ava’s long gone. After stealing the elixir and leaving Damen to fend for himself, she has no intention of returning.

I unlock the door with my mind and step in, taking a quick look around before I move past the den and into the kitchen. Surprised to find the usually well-ordered room reduced to an absolute mess—the sink piled high with dirty glasses and dishes as the trash overflows to the floor. And even though I’m sure it’s not Ava who’s done this, clearly someone is here.

I creep down the hall, peering into a series of empty rooms until I get to the indigo door at the end—the one that leads to Ava’s so-called sacred space where she used to meditate and try to reach the dimensions beyond. Opening the door just a crack and squinting into the dark, making out two sleeping figures sprawled on the floor. Skimming my hand along the wall and fruitlessly searching for a light, before remembering my ability to illuminate the room on my own—only to find the last two people I ever expected to see.

“Rayne?” I kneel down beside her, holding my breath as she rolls over and opens one eye.

“Oh hey, Ever.” She rubs her eyes and struggles to sit. “Only I’m not Rayne, I’m Romy. Rayne’s over there.”

I glance at her twin at the far side of the room, noting the scowl that crosses her face the second she realizes it’s me.

“What’re you doing here?” I ask, focusing on Romy again since she’s always been the nicer of the two.

“We live here.” She shrugs, tucking her wrinkled white shirt into her blue plaid skirt as she gets off the floor.

I glance between them, taking in their pale skin, large dark eyes, and straight, black, shoulder-length hair with the razor-slashed bangs, noticing how they’re both still dressed in the same private school uniforms as the first day we met. But unlike in Summerland where they always appear so clean and pristine, now they’re pretty much the opposite—sadly disheveled and completely uncared for.

Tags: Alyson Noel The Immortals Fantasy
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