Элисон Ноэль - Blue Moon

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Just as Ever is learning everything she can about her new abilities as an immortal, initiated into the dark, seductive world by her beloved Damen, something terrible is happening to him. As Ever's powers are increasing, Damen's are fading—stricken by a mysterious illness that threatens his memory, his identity, his life. Desperate to save him, Ever travels to the mystical dimension of Summerland, uncovering not only the secrets of Damen's past—the brutal, tortured history he hoped to keep hidden—but also an ancient text revealing the workings of time. With the approaching blue moon heralding her only window for travel, Ever is forced to decide between turning back the clock and saving her family from the accident that claimed them—or staying in the present and saving Damen, who grows weaker each day...

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"Um, gag!" she says, laughing as she untangles herself from my grip. "Are you okay?" She squints between me and Damen. "And what's up with him? Why's he all hunched over like that?"

I shake my head and climb inside, having no more time to waste. And as I back out of my space, I look out my window and say, "Hey, do you guys know where Roman lives?"

CHAPTER 42

I never imagined I'd be grateful for my sudden growth spurt and newly bulging biceps, but it's because of my new size and strength (not to mention Darnell's emaciated state) that I practically carry him all the way from my car to Ava's front door in just a handful of steps. Supporting his body as I knock on her door, fully prepared to break it down if I have to, but glad when she answers and waves us both in. I head for the hall as Damen stumbles along with me, pausing just outside the indigo door and gaping at Ava when she hesitates to open it.

"If your room is as sacred and pure as you think it is, then don't you think that will only help Damen? Don't you think he needs all the positive energy he can get?" I say, knowing she's conflicted about admitting the "contaminated" energy of a sick and dying man, which is just so ridiculous I hardly know where to begin. She looks at me, holding my gaze far longer than my diminishing patience would prefer, and when she finally gives in, I barrel right past her, getting Damen settled on the futon in the corner and covering his body with the wool throw she keeps nearby. "The juice is in my trunk, along with the antidote," I say, tossing her the keys. "The juice won't be any good for another two days, but he should be much better tonight, when the full moon rises and the antidote is ready. And then you can give him the juice later, to help rebuild his strength. Even though he probably won't even need it since it'll all reverse anyway. But still —just in case—" I nod, wishing I felt half as confident as I sound.

"Are you sure this'll work?" she asks, watching as I pull my very last bottle of elixir from my bag. "It has to." I gaze at Damen, so pale, so weak, so — old. And yet, he's still Damen. Traces of his amazing beauty still present, marred only slightly by the acceleration of years resulting in his silver hair, his nearly translucent skin, the fan of wrinkles surrounding his eyes. "It's our only hope," I add, waving her away as I drop to my knees, the door closing behind me as I smooth his hair off his face and gently force him to drink.

At first he fights it, thrashing his head from side to side and keeping his mouth firmly closed. But when it's clear that I'm not about to give up, he gives in.

Allowing the liquid to flow down his throat as his skin warms and his color returns. Emptying the bottle and gazing at me with such love and reverence, I'm overcome with joy just to know that he's back.

"I missed you," I murmur, nodding and blinking and swallowing hard, my heart bursting with yearning as I press my lips to his cheek. All the pent-up emotions I've fought so hard to keep in check all this time, now rushing to the surface, bubbling over, as I kiss him again and again. "You're going to be okay," I tell him.

"You're going to be back to your old self very soon."

My sudden burst of happiness withering like a popped balloon as his gaze turns dark and sweeps over my face.

"You left me," he whispers.

I shake my head, wanting him to know it's not true. I never left him —he left me—but it wasn't his fault and I forgive him. I forgive him for everything he's ever done —or said—even though it's already too late—even though it doesn't really matter anymore— But instead I just say, "No. I haven't. You've been ill. Very ill. But it's over with now and soon you'll be better. You just have to promise to drink the antidote when—" When Ava gives it to you —the words I can't bear to say, won't say, not wanting him to know that this is our last moment together—our final good-bye. "All you need to know is that you're going to be fine. But you need to watch out for Roman. He's not your friend. He's evil. He's trying to kill you. So you must regain your strength so you can take him down." I press my mouth to his forehead, his cheek, unable to stop until I've covered his entire face with my kiss. Tasting my own salty tears on the curve of his lips, as I breathe him in, hoping to imprint his scent, his taste, the feel of his skin, wanting to carry the memory of him wherever I go.

But even after I tell him I love him —even after I lie down beside him, pull him into my arms, and press his body to mine—even after I remain there for hours, lying right alongside him as he sleeps —even after I close my eyes and concentrate on melding my energy with his, hoping to heal him with my love, my essence, my very being, trying to impress some small part of myself onto him —even after all of that—the moment I move away, he says it again.

An accusation from his dream state, intended only for me.

"You left me."

Not realizing until I've said my final good-bye and closed the door behind me, that he's not referring to the past.

He's prophesying our future.

CHAPTER 43

I head down the hall and into the kitchen, my heart heavy, my legs wooden, and every step away from Damen just makes it worse.

"You okay?" Ava asks, standing at the stove, brewing some tea. As though all of those hours didn't just pass.

I shake my head and lean against the wall, unsure how to answer, unable to speak. Because the truth is, okay is pretty much the last thing I feel. Empty, hollow, bereft, awful, depressed —yes. But okay ? Not so much.

But that's because I'm a criminal. A traitor. I'm the worst kind of person you could ever hope to meet. All of the times I tried to imagine that scene, tried to imagine how my last moment with Damen would be, I never once thought it would end like that.

I never once thought I'd stand accused. Even though I clearly deserve to be.

"You don't have much time." She gazes at the clock on her wall, then at me. "Would you like some tea before you leave?"

I shake my head, knowing I've a few things still to tell her, and a few more stops to make before I go for good.

"So you know what to do?" I ask, seeing her nod as she brings her cup to her lips. "Because I'm trusting you, Ava. If this doesn't work out in the way that I think, if the only tiling that goes back is me, then you're my only hope." My gaze locks on hers, needing her to understand just exactly how serious this all is. "You've got to take care of Damen, he's —he doesn't deserve any of this, and—" My voice cracks as I press my lips together and avert my gaze. Knowing I've got to go on, that there's still more to say, but needing a moment before I can. "And watch out for Roman. He's good-looking and charming, but it's all a facade. Inside, he's evil, he tried to kill Damen, he's responsible for what he's become." "Don't worry." She moves toward me. "Don't worry about a thing. I got the stuff out of your trunk, the antidote is in the cupboard, the juice is—fermenting, and I'll add the herb on the third day like you said.

Not that we'll even need it, since I'm sure everything will go exactly as planned."

I look at her, seeing the sincerity in her eyes, relieved that at least I'm able to leave things in her capable hands.

"So you just get yourself over to Summerland, and I'll take care of the rest," she says, pulling me into her arms and hugging me tightly to her chest. "And who knows? Maybe someday you'll find yourself in Laguna Beach and we'll meet all over again?"

She laughs when she says it and I wish I could laugh along with her, but I can't. The weird tiling about saying good-bye is that it never gets any easier.

I pull away, nodding in place of words, knowing that to say anything more will make me break down completely. Barely managing to eek out a "Thanks," before I'm already at the door.

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