“You knew?”
I let go of his hand, moving so quickly it takes a moment for him to realize he’s no longer held hostage by me.
He flinches and pulls away, flexing his fingers as he twists his wrist back and forth, doing whatever it takes to get the blood flow back to normal again.
“Jeez, Ever, intrude much?” He shakes his head and paces the store. Angrily slaloming through the bookshelves, the angel displays, the CD racks, before starting the course all over again. Needing a moment to forgive me, to blow off a good bit of steam, before he’s ready to even look at me again. Tapping his thumb over the spines of a long row of books as he finally sighs and says, “I mean, it’s one thing to know you’re capable of reading minds, it’s quite another to have you actually get in there and probe around without my consent.” The words followed by a string of others he mumbles under his breath.
“I’m sorry,” I say, knowing I owe him much more than that, but still, it’s a start. “Really. I…I took a vow to never do that. And for the most part, I’ve kept it. But sometimes…well, sometimes the situation’s so urgent it can’t be ignored.”
“So you’ve done it before? Is that what you’re saying?” He turns, his eyes narrowed, mouth grim, fingers fidgeting at his side. Assuming the worst, that I’ve made myself at home in his brain on more occasions than I can count. And even though it’s nothing quite as bad as all that, and even though I’d really prefer not to have to cop to any of it, I also know that if I have any hope of regaining his trust, I have to start here.
I take a deep breath, keeping my gaze level on his. “Yes. A few times in the past, I have dropped in completely unannounced and without your consent, and I’m really and truly sorry about that. I know what an invasion that must feel like to you.”
He rolls his eyes and shows me his back. Mumbling in a way intended to make me cringe—and it does.
Though it’s not like I blame him. Not in the least. I’ve invaded his privacy, there’s no doubt about that. I just hope he can learn to forgive me.
“So basically, what you’re telling me is, I have no secrets.” He faces me again, gaze pouring over me. “No private thoughts, nothing that you haven’t had a super-exclusive sneak peek at.” He glares. “And just how long has this been going on, Ever? Since the day we first met, I assume?”
I shake my head, determined for him to believe me. “No. Really, none of that’s true. I mean, yes, I’ve read your mind before, I’ve already admitted to that, but I’ve only done it a few times, and even then it was only when I thought you might know something that would—” I take a deep breath, seeing his narrowed gaze, his clenched jaw, a sure sign that this is not going over as well as I’d hoped. Still, he deserves an explanation, no matter how mad it makes him, so I clear my throat and forge ahead when I add, “Seriously, the only times I’ve ever looked inside your head was to see if you were on to the truth about Damen and me—that’s it. I swear. I haven’t bothered with anything else. I’m not nearly as unethical as you think. Besides, just so you know, I used to hear everyone’s thoughts—hundreds—sometimes thousands of thoughts jumping out all around me. It was deafening, and disheartening, and I hated every single second of it. That’s why I wore the hoodies and the iPod all the time. It wasn’t just tragic fashion sense, you know.” I pause and look at him, seeing the way his back and shoulders stiffen. “It was the only way I could think of to block it all out. I mean, it may have looked ridiculous to you, but it served its purpose. It wasn’t until Ava taught me how to shield myself and tune it all out that I was able to move on. So yeah, in a way, you’re right. From the day I first met you I could hear everything that coursed through your brain—just like I heard everything that coursed through everyone’s brain. But it wasn’t because I wanted to hear it, but because I had no choice but to hear it. But as for the rest, your business is your business, Miles. Seriously, I’ve completely avoided eavesdropping on your secrets. You have to believe me on that.”
My gaze follows him, watching as he continues to roam the store, back turned, face hidden in a way I can’t read. Though his aura is brightening, lightening, a sure sign he’s coming around.
“I’m sorry,” he says, finally turning to me.
I squint, wondering what on earth he has to be sorry for in light of all this.
But he just shakes his head and says, “The things I used to think about you—well, not really you, it was mostly about your choice of clothes—but still.” He cringes. “I can’t believe you were privy to that.”
I shrug. More than willing to let it go. It’s ancient history as far as I’m concerned.
“I mean, after all that, you were still willing to hang around me, still willing to drive me to school every day, still willing to be my friend—” He lifts his shoulders and sighs.
“Never mind that.” I smile hopefully. “All I want to know is: Are you still willing to be mine?”
He nods. Nods and moves toward me, hands splayed out on the counter when he says, “In case you’re wondering, it was actually Haven who first told me.”
I sigh, having figured as much.
“Well, no, backtrack, because she only kind of told me.” He stops, points at a ring just under the glass that I promptly hand to him to try on. “Basically, she called me over to her house—” He pauses, brows merged as he lifts his hand to admire the ring before slipping it off and pointing to another. “You know she moved out, right?”
I shake my head. I didn’t actually know that, but again, I guess I should’ve assumed.
“She’s living at Roman’s now. Not sure how long that’ll last, but she’s talking about getting herself legally emancipated so I guess she’s pretty serious about it. Anyway, long story short, she basically invited me over, poured me a big goblet full of elixir, and tried to make me take a swig without telling me what it was.”
I shake my head. I can’t believe how irresponsible that is. Well, coming from Haven I can believe it, but still, that is not good.
“And when I waved it away, she got all dramatic and looked at me and said—” He clears his throat, preparing for just the right raspy-voiced Haven inflection, and completely nailing it when he says, “‘Miles, if someone were to offer you eternal beauty, eternal strength, amazing physical and mental powers…would you accept?’” He rolls his eyes. “And then she looked
at me, that blue sapphire she’s somehow embedded into her forehead practically blinding me, and totally gaping in outrage when I said, ‘Uh, no thanks.’”
I smile, trying to imagine the scene for myself.
“So then, of course, she assumed I didn’t quite understand just what she was getting at, and she tried to explain it again, with more detail this time. But I still said no. So then she started to get really upset and told me pretty much everything that Damen did—about the elixir, about how he turned you, about how you turned her. And then she threw in some stuff that Damen didn’t tell me, about how you ended up killing both Drina and Roman—”
“I didn’t kill—” Roman. I start to say that I didn’t kill Roman. That Jude is responsible for that. But just as quickly I wave it away. Miles already knows more than he should. It’s not my place to add any more.
“Anyway”—he shrugs as though he’s speaking about purely normal and rational things—“then, when she tried to get me to drink again, I again said no. And then when she started to get mad, and I mean really worked up, like a two-year-old having a meltdown kind of mad, I said: ‘Uh, hel-lo, here’s the thing: If this stuff really worked, then Drina and Roman would still be here, right? And since they’re not, well, I guess that means they weren’t really all that immortal after all, were they?’” He stops and looks at me, his gaze boring into mine. “So then she said that as soon as she’s done away with you, that little issue will be fixed for good. That I just need to trust her, that her elixir is way better than yours and all I needed to do was take a couple sips and eternal health, eternal well-being, eternal beauty, and eternal life would be mine, for, well, eternity.”