“And two.” I smile, eyes never once leaving hers. “You’re about to be outnumbered. Damen is here.”
I can feel his presence, feel him pulling into the drive, rushing through the front door, down the maze in the hall. Warning Miles to stay back, to not get involved or venture any further, as he storms into the den and Haven gazes upon them. Seeing Damen, standing right beside me, while Miles peers in through the doorway, having refused to listen to Damen’s warning to stay out of the way.
Narrowing her eyes when she says, “Oh, would you look at that—Damen brought his own backup. That’s so cute!”
I turn, glimpsing Miles, his aura dimming, his shoulders cringing, regretting the moment he decided to enter this room when he takes in the gruesome sight of his former best friend.
Haven glares, her eyes blazing with fury when she says, “You chose the wrong side, Miles.” She narrows her gaze even further, until all I can see are two slits of red. “I can’t believe what a traitor you turned out to be.”
Miles meets her gaze, and if he’s scared, he doesn’t show it. He just straightens his spine, squares his shoulders, and combs his fingers through his hair, his aura beaming, strengthening, when he says, “I haven’t chosen at all. I may not agree with your more recent choices, I may have chosen to distance myself a bit, but as far as I’m concerned we never stopped being friends. I mean, seriously, Haven, so far I’ve made it through your ballerina phase, your preppy phase, your goth phase, your emo phase, and now your super-scary immortal witch phase.” He shrugs casually as he takes a moment to glance around the room. “And the fact is, I’m not going anywhere. For one thing, I haven’t yet given up on you, and for another, well, I’m way too curious to see which role you’ll decide to play next.”
She rolls her eyes, voice raspier than ever when she says, “Well, I hate to break it to ya, but there is no next, Miles. Whether you like it or not, this is it. This is the new and improved, infinite version of me. I’m completely self-actualized. I’m everything I was ever meant to be.”
Miles shakes his head. “I really wish you’d rethink this or look in a mirror at least.”
But if she hears it, she chooses to ignore it and instead turns her attention back to Damen. “So, Damen Auguste Esposito.” She smiles, her face garish, eyes red and flashing, using a name that was thrust on him a very long time ago, back when his parents were murdered and he was turned over to the orphanage where he lived until the black plague ravaged the area and he spared himself by making the elixir. A name he hasn’t used for several centuries at least, and it takes me a moment to recognize it. “I know all about you. I’m not sure if Ever mentioned it or not, but Roman kept very good records, very detailed records. And you, well, let’s just say you’ve been a very, very naughty boy, now haven’t you?”
Damen shrugs, careful to keep his face still, his emotions well hidden. “I brought you more elixir. I left a big box by the door, and believe me, there’s plenty more where that came from. So why don’t you come with me and have a look, okay? You can even have a taste if you’d like.”
“Why don’t you save me the steps and bring it to me instead?” She bats her eyes, attempting to smile in the way that she used to—cute, charming, flirtatious, with a hint of adorable quirkiness. But she’s veered so far from that old version of herself, it just ends up looking creepy instead. “As you can see, I’m a little busy here. Ever and I were just working through the details of a little deal that we made, and if I’m not mistaken, the fact that she summoned you means she no longer trusts me. Which is pretty ironic if you consider that not only did she make me this way, but, from everything I saw in Roman’s journals, well, she really has no good reason to trust you either, now does she?”
“Enough with the journals,” I say, eager to move away from all this. “I know everything, Haven. There’s nothing left for you to lord over us, so why don’t you just—”
“You sure about that?” Her eyes dart between us, as though she knows something I don’t and can’t wait to reveal it. “You know about his past with Drina? How he faked his own death in a fire? About the little slave girl he stole from her family? You know about all of that?” She glances between us, including Jude, but he just meets her gaze and gives nothing away.
“She does.” Damen looks at her. “And, by the way, I didn’t steal the slave girl, I bought her in order to free her. Unfortunately, that’s how it was done back then. It was a very dark time in our history. But I don’t think you’re really all that interested in reliving that. So please, don’t waste any more of our time with this nonsense. Just let go of Jude and hand over the shirt. Now.”
“Now?” She balks, lifting her brow. “Oh no, I don’t think I’ll be doing that now or any other time, for that matter. That’s not the way this game is played. In fact, that pretty much goes against all the rules. And since you’re so late to the party, allow me to explain it to you. Basically, a choice must be made. You can either, A, choose to save Jude, or B, choose to save the shirt. So Damen, what’ll it be—a person’s life or your own self-interest? Kind of like what Roman made Ever do when she made me drink, right here in this room, well, at least according to Ever anyway. I can’t say for sure since I was so out of it. Though I do remember how the whole thing went down right
there on that couch.” She jerks her head toward it. “Which, I guess, is probably why she’s refusing to play this time around. Must be a painful reminder since it’s pretty obvious how much she regrets her decision. It’s pretty obvious how she wishes she’d just let me die instead. But just because she won’t play doesn’t mean you can’t. So tell me, Damen, which one will it be? Just tell me and it’s yours and yours to keep!”
Damen looks at her, preparing to charge, to take her down and put an end to all this. I can feel it in the way his energy shifts. I can see the plan forming in his head. But I quickly warn him against it—pleading with him to stay calm and still and to not do a thing. She’s baiting him, expecting no less than an ambush, and there’s far too much at stake to play it that way.
“Haven, no one’s choosing anything,” I say. “Because no one’s playing your stupid little game. So why don’t you just let go of Jude, hand over the shirt, and try to get a grip on yourself—on your life. Believe it or not, I’m still willing to help you. I’m still willing to put all the bad stuff behind us, so you can recover. Seriously. Just—just give me the shirt and let go of Jude and—”
“Choose!” she screams, her whole body shaking so badly my gut jumps into my throat when I see how closely the shirt veers toward the flames. “Fugging choose already, sheesh!”
And even though she means it, even though her eyes blaze with rage, I just look at her and shake my head.
“Fine.” She glares. “If you two won’t choose, then I’ll choose for you. But just remember, you had your chance.”
She turns toward Jude, her lips parting as though she’s about to say something, something that might be good-bye or good luck or good riddance or—or anything of the sort.
But it’s not real.
She’s trying to throw us all off.
Make us think Jude’s not long for this world when she couldn’t care less about him.
It’s me she wants to hurt.
It’s me she wants to destroy.
And she’s determined to take all of my hopes and dreams along with it.
So I lunge.
Just as Damen lunges to save Jude, and Jude lunges to kill Haven.