Taking great care to not let her catch me as I covertly call for backup. Sending a telepathic message to Damen that consists of nothing more than the image unfolding before me.
Knowing it’s just a matter of time before he appears.
All I have to do is stall until then.
“Listen, Haven—” I start, but I don’t get very far.
She’s seen it.
Seen the shift in me.
And because of it, she’s not about to indulge me any further.
And before I can do anything to stop it, she’s got Jude by the neck again, while she kicks the screen away from the fire and dangles Roman’s white shirt just over the blaze.
Her fingers shaking as the shirt dangles precariously. Allowing the flames to spark and lick and blacken the hem, as she looks at me and says, “No use wasting any more time here, is there? So whaddya say we just cut to the chase, shall we? Time to decide, Ever. The choice is yours and yours alone to make. What’ll it be—a lifetime of nonstop, happy shagging or—Jude getting to enjoy a long life?”
Jude gasps and struggles against her, but when he looks at me, instead of a plea for help, his gaze begs only forgiveness. His oxygen supply becoming more and more scarce the tighter she grips, yet he still allows me to see inside his head.
He came here for me.
Only for me.
He wanted to make good on his word, to prove that he really does just want to see me happy. He wanted to make up for what he did all those months before, right here in this house. And now, he’s ready to die for it if it should come to that. He’s fully prepared to sacrifice himself to see that I finally get what I want, to see that it’s done.
Do it! he urges, his gaze holding mine, the feel of it so warm, so loving it robs me of breath. Please, I just want you to be happy. And because of everything you’ve shown me, everything I’ve learned in Summerland, I’m free of all fear. Think of it as my final gift to you. I was wracking my brain, trying to think of a way to make up for everything, when I remembered Roman’s shirt, remembered the way you reacted the day I spilled my coffee and soaked it up with my sleeve. And after putting the two together, I realized this would be the perfect way to erase my mistakes.
He closes his eyes, but the thoughts don’t stop there, he continues to think: But now I’ve only made it worse, and I’m so sorry. I really, truly am. I just want you to know that my love has always been true and my intentions good. I’ve never once meant to harm you.
I choke back a sob, work past the knot in my gut, blink back my stinging wet tears, and glance between him and the shir
t Haven holds just shy of the flames.
And I know that all I have to do to get the one thing I’ve sought for so long is to make the choice they’re both begging me to make.
Jude’s already given his consent. He’s practically pleading with me to do it already.
And Haven, well, Haven can hardly contain her excitement. This is exactly the sort of thing she’s come to live for.
Exactly the kind of thing she’s come to enjoy most in this world.
So I take a deep breath, allowing the words forgive me, to stream from my mind to Jude’s as I turn to Haven and say, “You know, this is the exact same kind of crap Roman used to play. And like I told him, I’ll tell you, I don’t play this game anymore.”
thirty-eight
She looks at me, clearly unable to believe what she just heard.
So I repeat it, leaving no room for doubt when I say, “Seriously. I’m not choosing. I’m not playing this game. So it looks like you’re gonna have to come up with something else—and hopefully it’ll be something a little more original, a little more unique. Take your time, though.” I lift my shoulders in a way that’s deliberately calm and cool. “I’m in no hurry. Though you might want to lighten up on poor Jude, unless, of course, you’ve decided to kill him after all, in which case, feel free to grip even tighter and finish the job. Either way, I’ll be right here. I’m not going anywhere ’til I get what I came for.”
She looks at me, hands beginning to shake from the effort, rage taking over again. Her scathing, hate-filled gaze moving over me as she says, “So help me, Ever, I will burn this shirt and kill Jude, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.”
“No you won’t.” My voice remains firm as my gaze holds steady on hers. Noticing how she’s loosened her grasp just the tiniest bit, though doing my best not to let on that I saw, for fear that she’ll only tighten up and cause him great pain yet again. “I know of at least two very good reasons why you won’t even try.”
She looks at me, her entire body growing increasingly shaky as she quickly loses whatever grip she’d managed to hang onto until now.
“One, because it’s been a little too long since your last drink, and you’re already starting to suffer withdrawal.” I shake my head and cluck my tongue against the inside of my cheek, wearing an expression of disapproving pity. “Just look at yourself, Haven, you’re a hollow-eyed, sunken-faced, shivering wreck. It took years—centuries probably—for Roman to build up the kind of tolerance to drink as much as you have in just a few months. You can’t handle it, you’re in way over your head. Just look at yourself, will you?”
“And two?” she says, voice raspy, acid-tinged, broadcasting her extreme displeasure with me.