Night Star (Immortals 5)

But she’s not about to play along, she’s in much too big a hurry for that. She’s fading fast, barely holding on, and she doesn’t have time for this particular game.

“Quit fugging around and just give it to me!” She rolls her eyes and huffs under her breath, shaking her head in a way that throws her completely off-balance, forcing her to grab hold of the stair rail in order to steady herself.

I narrow my gaze, taking a moment to really study her, noting the way she appears so edgy, so jumpy, so out of whack and unsteady, she can barely stand still, can barely hold herself up without some kind of support. Focusing on her solar plexus, seeing it like a bull’s-eye smack dab in the center of her torso, fully prepared to take her out if I have to, though still hoping it won’t really come to that. Then I try to tune in to her energy, tune in to her head, try to get some kind of read on just where she’s at, and just how far she’s willing to go to get what she wants—but getting nothing for my efforts.

She’s not just shut off from me—she’s shut off from everything around her as well.

Belonging to no one and nothing.

Barely belonging to herself.

She’s like a walking talking Shadowland.

Dark.

Alone.

Totally caught up in a past she’s hell bent on avenging, even though the truth of it is nothing at all like the version she’s chosen to convince herself of.

“The elixir, Ever! Give me the fugging elixir already!” Her voice is shaky, high-pitched, raspier than ever, revealing just how much her desperation has come to define her. “I’ve already checked all the fridges—the one in the kitchen, the one outside by the barbecue, the spare one in the laundry room, and I was just about to head up to the den off your room, when, well, you came home and beat me to it. So, I figure as long as you’re here, I may as well ask nicely—seeing as what good friends we used to be and all.

So, come on, Ever, for old time’s sake, for old friend’s sake, hand over the fugging elixir you stole!”

“That’s you asking nicely?” I lift my brow, noticing the way she eyeballs the space between the banister and me, as though plotting to sneak through it, prompting me to quickly grab hold of it, blocking all access.

She mumbles under her breath, gripping the stair rail so tightly her knuckles blanch to an impossible shade of white, looking at me with eyes so red they’re practically bleeding from the effort, leaving no doubt that she’s this close to snapping when she repeats, “Just give it to me already!”

I take a deep breath, and concentrate on surrounding her with a stream of calming energy. Hoping it will help to pacify her, cool her, ease some of the anger, temper and tone down the rage. The last thing I need is for her to go off, to explode in some sort of meltdown. Even though she poses no real threat to me anymore, she’s still a very real threat to everyone around her, and I can’t afford to let it get to that point.

But when I see the way my bubble of peace once again fails to penetrate, bouncing right off her in much the same way it did the last time I tried, I decide to give her what she needs instead. Figuring a couple sips of elixir can’t hurt—if anything, from what I can see, it should go a very long way toward taming the beast.

I turn, slowly, cautiously, careful not to alarm her or set her off in any way, heading up the stairs and motioning for her to follow, when I glance over my shoulder and say, “I’m happy to share, Haven. I’ve got more than enough, so no worries there. Though I am curious—” I stop on the landing and face her. “Why do you need my juice? What happened to yours?”

“I ran out.” She shrugs, glaring at me as she adds, “I ran out because you stole a bunch of it, and now I’m gonna take it back.”

She grins, the promise of a drink seeming to appease her just the tiniest bit, though her words leave me chilled. I have no idea how much juice Roman might’ve kept on hand, but if he was anything like Damen it must’ve been a pretty healthy supply, a year’s worth at the very least. Since it’s forced to ferment under the proper moon phases, it’s not like you can just whip up a batch spontaneously. And the fact that Misa and Marco only made off with a bagful means she’s managed to plow through the rest of it in such a short amount of time it’s not only alarming but goes a long way toward explaining the state that she’s in.

I head for my den and over to the mini-fridge that’s placed just behind the wet bar. Reaching for a fresh new bottle as I say, “I didn’t steal your elixir. I have no interest or need for that kind of thing.”

Seeing her stand before me, hands shaking in outrage. “You’re such a liar! You think I’m stupid? How else did you survive? I know all about the chakras—Roman told me and Damen told him! It was back when Roman was controlling him, back when he convinced him to spill all kinds of secrets. I hit you in your weak spot and you know it. I hit you before you went down and after you went down, and I even hit you one last time for good measure just before I left you for dead. It should’ve killed you! I thought it did kill you. I was sure the only reason you didn’t disintegrate into a big pile of dust is because you weren’t as old as the rest of them. But now I know the real reason for why you’re still here—”

I look at her, knowing full well what that reason is—the fact that I watched my lives unfold right before me. The fact that I witnessed the truth. And because of it, I made the right choice, the only choice, which allowed me to rise above my weak chakra. No more, no less. Still, I’m interested in hearing her take on it.

“You drank Roman’s elixir.” She shakes her head, allowing the blue gemstones on her earrings to chime softly together. “It’s way more powerful than yours, as you well know, which is exactly why you drank it. It’s the only thing that saved you!”

I shrug, catching our reflections in the mirror on the far wall behind her—noting the difference between us—her darkness versus my light. The contrast so stark, it takes my breath away. Then averting my gaze just as quickly, determined not to overfocus on her sad, sorry state. I can’t afford the sympathy, not when I may be forced to kill her at some point. Switching my gaze back to hers when I say, “If that’s so true, then how come it can’t seem to save you? And how come it couldn’t save Roman either?”

But Haven’s done chatting. She’s determined to get what she came for.

“Give me the elixir.” She takes a slow, unsteady step toward me. “Give me the elixir and no one gets hurt.”

“I thought we just covered that.” I keep the bottle behind me, holding it well out of her reach. “You can’t hurt me anymore, remember? No matter what you do or how hard you try, you can’t get to me, Haven. So just maybe, instead of threatening me, you should try a whole new approach and try to get on my good side.”

But she just smiles. Causing her face to widen and lift in a way so ghastly it only serves to emphasize her hollow, red eyes. “Maybe I can’t hurt you, but trust me, Ever, I can still do some serious damage to the people who are near and dear to you. And, as good and fast as you may be, well, it’s not like you can be in all places at all times. It’s not like you can save everybody.”

And that’s when she does it—that’s when she takes advantage of my momentary shock at hearing her words and lunges straight for the elixir grasped in my hand.

And that’s also when I react just a little bit quicker than she planned.