Night Star (Immortals 5)

I take a moment to settle in, dropping my bag in the corner, retying my shoe, and removing my T-shirt to reveal the white, finely ribbed tank top I wear underneath. Smoothing my hands over the front of it and adjusting the elastic waistband of my shorts, as I approach him and say, “Obviously you know about the chakras.” I stand before him, studying him carefully but allowing him no time to react when I add, “I mean, since you so successfully killed Roman that way—”

“Ever, I—” He starts, but I won’t permit it, won’t allow the flow of excuses to begin. I’ve heard all that, and I’m not one bit swayed. Besides, I can’t afford to be coerced into an argument that may change my mind about him—about this.

“Save it.” I raise my hand between us. “That’s another topic, for another day. For now, the only thing we’re going to discuss is the fact that Haven has powers you can’t even begin to imagine—” That even I can’t begin to imagine. “Powers she’s pretty drunk on at the moment, which makes her reckless and dangerous and someone you need to steer clear of at all costs. But if by chance you run into her for some reason, or, even worse, she decides to come after you, which, I’m sorry to say, is really the more likely scenario, well, either way, you need to be prepared. So, with all that in mind, with everything you know about her, which chakra would you choose to obliterate her?”

He looks at me, lip quirked to the side, and it’s clear he’s not taking this at all seriously, which is a grave mistake on his part.

“The sooner you answer, the sooner we’ll get through this—” I sing, hands on my hips, fingers impatiently tapping against them.

“Third.” He nods, flattening his palm just under his chest for emphasis. “Solar plexus, otherwise known as the revenge center, the home of deep-seated anger issues, and that sort of thing. So, are we good here? Did I pass? Can I collect my gold star and go home now?” He lifts his spliced brow.

“Okay, so now I want you to pretend that I’m Haven,” I say, completely ignoring the question along with the obvious plea in his gaze. “And I want you to come at me, to target me in the exact same way you’d target her.”

“Ever, please,” he begs. “This is ridiculous! I can’t do it. Really. I mean, while I appreciate your concern and all, trust me, it means a lot to me, but this sort of forced reenactment—” He shakes his head, dreadlocks swinging from side to side. “It’s—it’s a little embarrassing. To say the least.”

“Embarrassing?” My eyes practically bug out of my head. The male ego is pretty much unfathomable to me. “I’m just going to pretend you didn’t even say that. I mean, she has the power to cause you all kinds of hurt before she decides to take mercy and finally finish you off, and you’re worried about being embarrassed? In front of me?” I shake my head again, waving it away with both hands. “Listen, if you’re worried about hurting me—forget it. You won’t and you can’t. It’s completely impossible. No matter how hard you try, you just can’t get to me. So feel free to put that right out of your mind.”

“Well, that’s reassuring. Not to mention emasculating.” He shakes his head and allows his shoulders to slump.

“Not trying to insult you.” I shrug. “Just stating the facts, that’s all. I’m stronger. I mean, I think you’ve already experienced plenty of evidence to support that. And, I hate to break it to you, but Haven’s stronger too. And while there’s nothing you can do to change either of those things, she does lack something I have.”

He looks at me, only partially curious to learn what that is.

“She stopped wearing her amulet. She’s got nothing protecting her now. Whereas I never remove mine…” I pause, remembering all the times I did in the past and amending the statement when I add, “At least not anymore. Also, my solar plexus is not my weak chakra, not that I’m about to reveal which chakra is my weak one, but anyway, even if you’ve already figured it out by now, even if you decided you were so desperate to get out of here and on with your night that it just might be worth it to do me in, well, then you should know that you wouldn’t be able to get anywhere near it before I’d stop you right in your tracks.”

He rolls his eyes and sighs, raising his hands in defeat, realizing he really has no choice but to give in. Saying, “Okay. Fine. Whatever. Just tell me, what is it you want me to do? Am I supposed to charge you or something?”

“Sure, why not?” I shrug, figuring it’s as good a place to start as any.

But he just looks at me and says, “Because here’s the thing, that is a totally unrealistic situation. I would never just charge Haven or anyone else, not without first being provoked, and probably not even then. I just wouldn’t do it. I’m a pacifist. You know that. It’s not my style. So, I’m sorry to say it, but if you really want me to participate, then you’ll have to come up with something a little better than that.”

“Okay, fine.” I nod, determined to not let him wriggle his way out of this. “But just so you know, I have no plans to charge Haven either. I have no plans to start anything or go after her in any way. Still, I don’t think either one of us can ignore the fact that she’s vowed to destroy us—she’s made that abundantly clear. And make no mistake—she can destroy us, Jude. Especially you, since you’re so unprepared. She can take you down easily—without even breaking a sweat! So, with that in mind, we both need to prepare ourselves

for that event. Even though you’ve made it clear how you have no interest in being immortal, I’m also willing to bet you’re not all that eager to die at Haven’s hand. So, in light of all that, what do you say I charge you first? Would that make you feel better? Because that’s probably how it’ll go down anyway.”

He shrugs. Shrugs and flips his hands.

A simple act that annoys me so much, I rush toward him at full force without warning him first.

Moving so fast that one second he’s standing in the center of the gym, acting all causal and cool, and the next, I’ve knocked him clear across to the other side of the room, where I press him up hard against the padded wall, just like Haven did to me that day in the bathroom. And also like Haven, I’m not the least bit winded from the effort.

“This is what it’ll be like,” I say, my fingers gripping the front of his shirt, working the fabric so hard a piece of it tears off in my hand. Aware of his cool, shallow breath hitting my cheek, my face a mere razor’s width from his, as I gaze into those surprised aqua-green eyes. “This is how fast it’ll happen. You’ll have no time to react.”

He meets my gaze, the look deepening, his breath quickening, as a line of sweat drips down his brow, and his heart begins to race.

Though it’s not the result of fear or even surprise—no, it’s the result of something else entirely.

Something I immediately recognize.

It’s the same look he gave me the night we nearly kissed in the Jacuzzi.

The same look he gave me the night he told me he loved me, that he’s always loved me, through every single one of our lives, and that he’s not about to give up on me anytime soon.

And even though I want to, even though my rational mind is telling me to let go of his shirt, to turn around, and get myself as far from him as I possibly can—I can’t do it.

Instead, I just grip tighter, press my body even closer, soothed by the wave of calm that emanates off his skin, as I dive headfirst into those deep ocean eyes of his.

The small voice in my head reminding me of all the reasons I should run—my long list of suspicions, all the unanswered questions—but my body ignores it. Choosing instead to respond to him just like the girl in my slave life.