Shadowland: The Immortals Read online

  “No. No harm done,” I say, a terrible ache invading my gut, wondering just what it is that I’ve started.

  forty-six

  After Miles’s third failed attempt to get me to dive in, he finally gets out, moving toward me as he says, “Hey, what gives? I know you got your bikini on—I can see the straps!” Laughing when he pulls me off the lounge chair and hugs me tightly to him, whispering, “Have I ever told you how much I love you, Ever? Have I? Ever, Ever?”

  I shake my head and pull away, glancing at Holt just behind him, rolling his eyes and tugging on Miles’s arm, trying to convince him to leave me alone and quit dripping on me.

  But Miles won’t have it, he’s got something to say and won’t stop ’til it’s done. Throwing a wet arm around my shoulder as he leans all over me and slurs, “I’m shlo shlerious, Ever. Before you came to this school—it was just me and Haven. But then—from the moment you shlowed up at our table—it became me and Haven and you.” He looks at me, head bobbing, struggling to focus, as he grips me tighter and fights to keep his balance.

  “Wow—that’s really—deep.” I glance at Holt, the two of us stifling a laugh as we each wrap an arm around Miles and lead him into the kitchen for some coffee. Getting him settled at the breakfast bar just as Haven and her three immortal friends come in.

  “You guys leaving?” I squint, seeing they’re back in their clothes, wet towels in their hands.

  Haven nods. “Misa and Rafe have to work tomorrow, and Roman and I have an appointment.”

  I look at Roman, holding his gaze. How can he be leaving when he hasn’t given me what I want? Hasn’t even begun to grovel, beg, and ask my forgiveness like I visualized?

  How can he be leaving when it goes against my plan?

  I follow them to the door, heart racing as I take in the tilt of his chin, the gleam in his gaze, and I know it’s not good. Something’s gone wrong. Terribly wrong. Even though I cast the spell exactly like the book said, from the look in his eyes, and the curl of his lips, it’s clear the goddess and queen have both failed me.

  “Where are you going?” I squint, trying to peer into his energy but not getting anywhere.

  Haven looks at me, brow raised, smile on her face as Roman throws his arm around her shoulder and says, “Private party. But there’s room for you, Ever. Maybe you can stop by a little later, you know, when you’re done here.”

  My eyes meet his, holding his gaze until I break away and focus on Haven again. And even though I promised I wouldn’t do it, I peer right through her aura and into her mind, eager to see what’s lurking in there, what’s really going on, but not getting very far before I’m stopped, run up against a brick wall someone’s placed in my path.

  “You all right?” Roman asks, squinting at me, as he opens the door. “You look a little—peaked.”

  I take a deep breath and narrow my gaze, about to say something more when Jude comes up and says, “Someone just hurled on the rug.”

  And even though my attention’s only pulled for a moment, it’s still long enough for them to exit. Roman glancing over his shoulder, looking at me when he says, “Sorry to bail on you, Ever. Though I’m sure we’ll meet later.”

  forty-seven

  I was expecting it to be Miles, but it turns out he’s fine. Helping to mop up the mess as he smiles and says, “And that’s what you call acting. Viva Firenze!” He pumps his fist in the air.

  “So really, you’re fine?” I hand him a clean towel, feeling bad for making him go through the motions when as soon as everyone leaves, I’ll just make it vanish and manifest a new one. “You’re not drunk?”

  “Not at all! But the point is, you thought I was.”

  I shrug. “The slurring, the loss of balance—all the signs were present and accounted for.”

  He rolls up the towel, about to hand it to me when Jude appears by my side and takes it instead. “Laundry?” he asks, brow raised.

  But I just shake my head and point toward the trash, looking at Miles as I ask, “So who did it, who brought the booze?”

  “Oh, no.” He shakes his head and holds up his hands. “I’m sorry to break it to you, Ever, but this little get-together you orga nized, is also what’s known as a party. And even if you don’t serve it, it’ll still find its way in. You’ll get no information from me.” He clamps his lips shut, pulling the imaginary zipper that seals them, before adding, “I say you just ditch this old thing.” He points at the rug. “Seriously, I’ll help roll it up. All we have to do is move the furniture around and Sabine won’t even notice it’s gone.”

  But I just shake my head, this vomit-covered rug is the least of my concerns now that Roman’s no longer playing along. Taking Haven on some mysterious appointment I can’t seem to crack, and what was that bit about us meeting up later? Was that a reference to the binding spell—or—something else?

  Miles leans in to hug me, gathering me into his arms and giving me a really tight squeeze when he says, “Thanks for the party, Ever. And even though I don’t know what’s going on between you and Damen, I have one thing to say and I hope you’ll listen and take me seriously. Ready?” He quirks his brow and pulls away.

  I shrug. My mind preoccupied, in some other place.

  “You deserve to be happy.” He nods, gaze intense, focused on mine. “And if Jude makes you happy, then you shouldn’t feel bad about that.” He waits, waits for me to respond in some way, but when I don’t he adds, “Party’s pretty much over once someone hurls, right? So we’re gonna bolt. But we’ll get together before Florence, okay?”

  I nod, watching as he and his friends all head for the door, calling, “Hey, Miles, did Haven or Roman mention where they’re going?”

  Miles looks at me, brows merged when he says, “Fortune-teller.”

  I squint, stomach sinking though I’ve no idea why.

  “Remember the other day when she wanted to book one?”

  I nod.

  “She mentioned it to Roman and he arranged a private reading.”

  “This—late?” I look to my wrist to confirm the time though I’m not wearing my watch.

  But Miles just shrugs and heads for the car, making me wonder if I should head out too. Try to catch up with Roman and Haven and make sure she’s okay. But when I try to tune in to her energy again, I don’t get very far. In fact, I don’t get anything at all.

  About to try again when Jude comes up and says, “You really need to ditch that rug. Smells awful.”

  I nod, distracted, unsure what to do.

  “You know what helps?”

  “Coffee grounds,” I mumble, remembering how my mom used it once when Buttercup ate something bad and got sick in Riley’s room.

  “Well, yeah, that, but I was thinking more like getting away from the stench. Always works for me.”

  I look at him, his face lighting into a smile.

  “Seriously.” He slips his arm through mine and leads me outside. “What’s the point of going to all that trouble, going all out with the decorations and food, doing all that you can for your friend’s going-away pool party, when you spend the entire night on the sidelines, watching, observing, but not once diving in?”

  I look away. “The party was for Miles, not me.”

  “Still.” Jude shakes his head, gazing at me in a way that sends a flood of calm through my system. “You’re looking a little stressed, and you know what kills stress, don’t you?” I glance at him, seeing him smile when he says, “Bubbles.”

  “Bubbles?”

  He points at the spa. “Bubbles.” Face serious, gaze fixed on mine.

  I take a deep breath and look at the Jacuzzi, warm, welcoming, and yes, bubbling too. Watching as Jude grabs some towels and sets them by the edge, and figuring I’ve got nothing to lose, that it just might help clear my head enough to come up with a new plan, I turn my back and yank off my dress. A silly bout of modesty since I’ll be half naked soon, but still, facing him would feel too much like undressing.

  Too muc
h like the girl in the painting.

  He heads for the edge and dips a toe in, eyes going wide in such a way that I can’t help but laugh.

  “You sure about this?” I wrap my arms around my waist like I’m cold, when really I’m just trying to fend off his gaze. Seeing the way his aura sparks and flames as he takes me in, the way his cheeks flush when he quickly looks away.

  “Definitely.” He nods, voice thick, rough, watching as I step into the Jacuzzi, at first wincing against the hot water then slowly easing in. Immersed in heat and bubbles, thinking this may be my smartest move yet.

  I close my eyes and lean back, muscles loosening, relaxing, when Jude says, “Got room for one more?”

  I squint, watching as he removes his shirt, taking in his expanse of chest, defined abs, trunks that hang low on his hips, making my way back up past his dimples and all the way to his eyes, two aqua pools I’ve known through the years. Watching as he moves forward, just about to step in when he remembers his phone in his pocket and drops it onto the towel.

  “Whose decision was this?” He laughs, cringing against the steam and heat as he sits down beside me and stretches his legs, his foot accidentally landing on mine and letting it rest for a moment before pulling away. “Yeah, this is the life,” he says, tilting his head back and closing his eyes, then peeking at me when he adds, “Please tell me you use this all the time, that you don’t just forget it’s here ’til someone coaxes you in.”

  “Is that what’s happening? I’m being coaxed?”

  He smiles, that relaxed, easy grin lifting his face and lighting his eyes. “Seems like you needed a little convincing. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you can be a little intense.”

  I swallow hard, wanting to look away, look anywhere but at him, but unable to leave his gaze.

  “Not that there’s anything wrong with that—being intense that is—”

  His gaze deepens, boring into mine, luring me closer like a fish on his line, his face looming so near I close my eyes to meet it. Tired of fighting, tired of repeatedly pushing him away. Assuring myself it’s only a kiss. Jude’s kiss. Bastiaan’s kiss. Hoping it’ll tell me, once and for all, if Damen’s fears are in any way real.

  His wave of calm energy comforting, tempering, as his lips part and his hand finds my knee, leaning toward each other, mouths about to merge when his ringing phone breaks our trance.

  He pulls away, annoyance stamped on his face. “Should I get it?”

  “I’m off duty.” I shrug. “You’re psychic, you tell me.”

  He stands, turning toward his towel as I take in his form, the squared shoulders, the sharp V of his waist, stopping when I catch a glimpse of something at the small of his back. Something round, dark, barely discernible, but still—

  He turns, facing me again, brows merged, hand over his other ear, when he says, “Hello?” and then, “Who?”

  Smiling at me and shaking his head, but it’s too late.

  I’ve seen it.

  The unmistakable shape of a snake eating its own tail.

  The Ouroboros.

  The mythical symbol claimed by Roman’s tribe of immortal rogues, tattooed right on the small of Jude’s back.

  I reach for my amulet, fingers fumbling but finding only skin. Wondering if this is somehow connected to my spell gone bad, if Roman has somehow arranged this.

  “Ever? Yeah, she’s here—” He looks at me, making a face as he adds, “O-kay . . .”

  He looks at me, arm extended, trying to pass on the phone.

  But I just ignore it, moving out of the Jacuzzi so fast he shakes his head and blinks.

  Grabbing my dress and yanking it over my head, feeling it dampen and cling to my skin, as my eyes blaze on his, wondering what the hell he’s up to.

  “It’s for you,” he says, climbing out of the spa and trying to pass it again.

  “Who is it?” I ask, voice barely a whisper. Mentally reciting the list of all seven chakras and their corresponding weaknesses, and trying to determine his.

  “It’s Ava. Says she needs to speak to you. You okay?” He squints, head cocked to the side, concern clouding his face.

  I step back, unsure of what’s happening but knowing it’s a long way from good. Going straight past his aura and trying to peer into his mind, but not getting much of anything thanks to the shield that he built.

  “How’d she get your number?” I ask, gaze fixed on his.

  “She used to work for me—remember?” He shrugs, hands in the air. “Ever—seriously—what’s this about?”

  I look at him, heart racing, hands shaking, assuring myself I could take him if it comes to that. “Set the phone down.”

  “What?”

  “Set it down. Right there,” I point to a lounge chair, my gaze never once leaving his. “Then walk away quickly; don’t come anywhere near.”

  He shoots me a look but does as I say. Backing toward the spa as I pick up the phone, still holding his gaze.

  “Ever?” The voice is clipped, urgent, and definitely belongs to Ava. “Ever, I need you to listen, there’s no time to explain.” I stand there, numb, shell-shocked, still staring at Jude as she says, “Something’s happened to Haven—she’s in trouble—barely breathing—we’re—we’re gonna lose her if you don’t get to Roman’s right away.”

  I shake my head, trying to make sense of it. “What’re you talking about? What’s going on?”

  “I just need you to get here—now—hurry—before it’s too late!”

  “Call nine-one-one!” I shout, hearing a muffled sound, a struggle of sorts, then Roman’s smooth voice moves in.

  “There’ll be none of that, luv,” he purrs. “Now be a good sport and get over here quick. Your friend wanted to see a fortune-teller, and now, unfortunately, her future’s not looking so bright. She’s hanging by a thread, Ever. A thread, I tell you. So do the right thing and come over. Seems it’s time for you to solve the riddle.”

  I drop the phone and make for the gate, Jude following behind, begging me to explain. And when he makes the mistake of grabbing my shoulder, I turn and smack him so hard he flies through the yard and crashes into the lounge chairs.

  Gaping at me in a tangle of limbs and outdoor furniture, struggling to stand as I glance over my shoulder and say, “Grab your stuff and get out of here. I don’t want to see you when I return.”

  Plunging through the gate and breaking into a run, hoping I can reach Haven before it’s too late.

  forty-eight

  I run.

  Past cars, houses, stray dogs and cats. Legs moving, muscles pumping, carrying me forward with hardly a thought. My body moving like a well-oiled machine with shiny new parts. And even though it’s only seconds, it feels like hours.

  Hours since I last saw Haven.

  Hours ’til I’ll see her again.

  And the second I get there I see him. Arriving at the same time as I do.

  The mere sight of him causing everything to fade—of no possible consequence now that he’s standing before me.

  My heart caving as my mouth goes dry, overcome with such longing, I can’t even speak—gazing upon my sweet, wonderful Damen—more glorious than ever under the glow of the street-lights. The sound of my name on his lips, so charged, so loaded, it’s clear he feels the same.

  I move toward him, pent-up emotions rising to the surface, bubbling over, I’ve so much to tell him, so much to say. The words fading the second we meet and my body’s overtaken by tingle and heat—wanting only to melt into him, to never be separated again—

  His hand at my back, propelling me closer, as Roman opens the door, glances between us, and says, “Ever, Damen, so glad you could make it.”

  Damen charges the door, pinning Roman to the wall as I slip right past and head for the den, eyes seeking Haven only to find her stretched out across the couch, pale, unmoving, and from what I can tell, barely breathing.

  I rush toward her, dropping to her side as I grasp her wrist, fingers seeking her pu
lse like I once did at Damen’s.

  “What did you do to her?” I glare at Ava who’s crouched right beside her, knowing she’s working with Roman, they’re on the same team. “What. Did you. Do?” I repeat, knowing a swift kick to her root chakra, the center for vanity and greed, would take her down in an instant if it should come to that. Wondering if Damen’s already done the same, plunging his fist into Roman’s sacral center, and no longer caring if he did.

  Not after what they’ve done to my friend.

  Ava looks at me, face pale against her wavy auburn hair, brown eyes wide and pleading, reminding me of something—something I’ve no time to grasp—when she says, “I didn’t do anything, Ever. I swear. I know you don’t believe me, but it’s true—”

  “You’re right, I don’t believe you.” My focus back on Haven, pressing my palm to her forehead, her cheek, her skin cold and dry as her aura grows dimmer, darker, and her life-force energy slips away.

  “It’s not what you think—they booked me for a reading—said it was for a party—and when I showed up—this is what I found—” She gestures toward Haven and shakes her head.

  “But of course you showed up! It’s your dear friend Roman after all.” I gaze at Haven, searching for signs of abuse, but I can’t see a thing. She looks peaceful, unaware, clueless to the fact that she’s not long for this world. Well on her way to the next one, the Summerland, unless I can stop it.

  “I tried to help—tried to—”

  “So why didn’t you? Why’d you call Jude instead of nine-one-one?” I glare at her as I reach for my bag, my phone, remembering too late that I came here without it, manifesting a new one just as Roman storms into the room.

  I look past him for Damen, my heart lurching when I don’t find him.

  But Roman just laughs, shaking his head as he says, “Moves a bit slower than me. He is older, you know!” Snapping the manifested phone out of my hand when he adds, “Trust me, luv. It’s well beyond that. Seems your friend had herself a very potent cup of belladonna tea—” He motions toward a fine china cup on the table, its contents recently drained. “Also known as deadly nightshade in case you’re not familiar, and she’s so far along, she’s way beyond medical help. No, the only one who can save her now is you.”