Элисон Ноэль - Dark Flame

She lifts her brow and shakes her head. "It was pretty good too, and I was flattered for sure, but it was too late and I'd already moved on to Roman who I clearly love more. He just agrees to hang out with me, and we have a good time, and it's not like there's any other girl on the scene-well, other than you-" She looks at me, her eyes narrowed in a way that makes me cringe, but just as quickly she laughs and waves it away. "But the point is, no matter what you think, no matter how it may look from the outside, the truth is, it's never really equal. That's just not the way it works. There's always the pursued and the pursuer, the cat and the mouse, that's just how it goes. So, tell me, Ever, who loves more in your relationship-Damen or you?"

The question catches me off guard, even though it's pretty obvious it was coming. But when I see the way she pauses, head tilted to the side, fingers twirling a random chunk of hair, patiently waiting for me to respond, I end up mumbling a bunch of jumbled nonsense that finally results in, "Well, um, I don't know. I never really thought about it, I guess. I mean, I never even really noticed, for that matter-" "Really?" She shifts onto her back and gazes up at her starspangled ceiling that I know from experience glows in the dark. "Well, I have," she says, gaze still focused on the constellation overhead. "And just so you know, it's Damen, not you. Damen's the one who loves more. He'd do anything for you. You're just along for the ride."

I wish I could say Haven's words didn't bother me. That I was able not just to refute it but to plead a case so convincing she was instantly swayed to my side. But the truth is, I didn't do or say much of anything. I just shrugged, pretending to brush it off, as she blasted a series of songs from her iPod I'd never even heard before, by bands I didn't even know existed, and we flipped through a pile of magazines, the two of us hanging out in the same way we used to. Just like old times. But that's just how it seemed on the surface. Deep down, we both knew things were entirely different.

Then after I left, while I was hanging at Damen's, Haven's words kept replaying in my head, asking me which of us loved more. And to be honest, they've pretty much stayed with me today as well. All through my breakfast with Sabine, I wondered, all through shelf restocking and register ringing at the store, I asked myself was it me or him? Even through all three back-to-back readings that "Avalon" was scheduled for, including the one I'm finishing now, the question kept repeating in my head.

"Wow, that was-" She looks at me, eyes wide with wonder.

"That was truly, truly, truly remarkable." She shakes her head and reaches for her purse, face wearing a blend of excitement, doubt, and a longing to believe-the usual postreading look.

I nod, smiling politely while gathering up the deck of Tarot cards I spread out for show but don't really use. It's just easier to have some kind of prop or tool-keeps it more remote and detached that way. Most people get pretty freaked by the idea of someone being able to peer straight into their heads and listen in on all their deepest thoughts and feelings, never mind how one brief touch can reveal a long and complex history of events.

"It's just-you're so much younger than I expected. How long have you been at this?" she asks, slinging her purse over her shoulder as her eyes continue to study me.

"Being psychic is a gift," I say, even though Jude specifically asked me not to say that, figuring it would discourage potential students from signing up for his psychic development class. But since the course has pretty much fizzled down to just him and Honor, I really don't see what harm it could do. "It knows no age limit," I add, mentally urging her to quit gaping at me and move it along. I've got plans, somewhere to be. My evening carefully designed down to the minute, and if she lingers much longer, she'll seriously mess with my agenda. But seeing a look of skepticism start to creep in, I tell her, "That's why children are such naturals at it, they're open to all the possibilities. It's only later, when they discover how society frowns on these things that the desire to be accepted takes over and they shut it all out. What about you? Didn't you have an imaginary friend as a kid?" My gaze moves over her, knowing she did because I saw it the moment I touched her.

"Tommy!" She gasps, hand clamped over her mouth, surprised that I knew, surprised that she just blurted that out.

I smile, having already seen it myself. "He was real to you, right? Helped you through some hard times?"

She looks at me, eyes going wide as she shakes her head and says, "Yes-he-well-I used to have nightmares." She lifts her shoulders and gazes around as though embarrassed to be confessing all this. "Back when my parents were divorcing, well, everything was so unstable, financially, emotionally, and that's when Tommy appeared-and he promised to help me get through it, to keep all the monsters away-and he did. I think I stopped seeing him around the time I turned-" "Ten." I rise from my seat, a visual indication that this session is over and she should do the same. "Which, to be honest, is a little older than most, but still, you didn't need him anymore and so he-went away." I nod, opening the door and gesturing her into the hall where she'll hopefully head on over toward the register and pay.

Only she doesn't head for the register. Instead, she turns to me and says, "You have got to meet my friend. Seriously.

She'll flip. She doesn't really believe in this stuff, in fact, she made fun of me for coming, but we're having dinner later, a double date, and, well-" She pauses to glance at her watch, grinning at me when she says, "Well, actually, she should be here now, if not soon."

"I'd love to." I smile like I really do mean it. "But I have to be somewhere and-" "Oh, that's her over there! Perfect!"

I sigh and gaze down at my feet, wishing I could use my manifesting skills to make people pay up and disappear-or at least just this once anyway.

Sensing my plans are about to be pushed back even further, but having no idea how much further until she cups her hands around her mouth and calls out, "Sabine! Hey, over here, I've got someone you've just got to meet!"

My whole body goes cold. Frozen, solid, and cold. Like: Hello, iceberg, meet the Titanic kind of cold.

And before I can stop it, before I can do anything about it, Sabine is heading right toward me. At first not recognizing me as me, and not because I'm wearing that black wig, because I'm not, I gave that up a long time ago when I decided it made Avalon look like a freak, but because I'm pretty much the absolute last person she ever expected to see. In fact, she's still squinting and blinking even after she's standing right before me with Munoz at her side, who, by the way, looks just about as panicked as I feel.

"Ever?" Sabine gazes at me as though she's just awoken from a very deep sleep. "Wha-" She shakes her head as though to clear it of cobwebs and starting all over again.

"What on earth is going on here? I don't understand."

"Ever?" Her friend glances between us, her eyes squinched, darting, suspicious. "But-but I thought you said your name was Avalon?"

I take a deep breath and nod, knowing it's all over now. My carefully crafted life of lying, hiding, and secret hoarding has resulted in this. "It is Avalon." I nod, avoiding Sabine's gaze.

"But, it's also Ever-depending."

"Depending on what?" my client squawks, as though she's been personally and deeply offended and wronged. Her aura suddenly flaming, wavering, as though she doubts not only me but everything I just spent the last hour telling her, no matter how spot-on my predictions were. "Just who the heck are you?" she says, looking at me as though she's about to report me to-well, she hasn't decided yet-but someone, someone will get a report, that's for sure.