I look at Rayne, watching as she shakes her head and warns me not to listen to him, to hold out for Romy, to wait for nightfall, which is still hours away. But then I gaze at Damen beside her, his breath becoming more labored, the color drained from his face — "And if you're trying to trick me?" I say, all of my attention now focused on Roman. Holding my breath as he says, "Then he dies." I swallow hard and stare at the floor, unsure what to do. Do I trust Roman, the rogue immortal who's responsible for all of tills in the first place? Or do I trust Rayne, the creepy twin with her covert double-talk and an agenda that's never been clear? But when I close my eyes and try to concentrate on my gut, knowing that it's rarely wrong, even though I often ignore it, it's frustratingly still. Then looking at Roman when he says, "But if I'm not tricking you, then he lives . So I really don't see how you have much of a choice —"
"Don't listen to him," Rayne says. "He's not here to help you, I am! I'm the one who sent you the vision in Summerland that day, I'm the one who showed you all the ingredients required to save him You were shut out of the akashic records because you'd already made your choice. And while we tried to show you the way, while we tried to help you and stop you from leaving, you refused to listen, and now —" "I thought you didn't know my business?" I narrow my gaze. "I thought you and your creepy sister couldn't access—" I pause, glancing at Roman, knowing I have to tread carefully with what I'm about to say. "I thought you couldn't see certain things."
Rayne looks at me, her face stricken, shaking her head as she says, "We never lied to you, Ever. And we never misled you. We can't see certain things, that's true. But Romy's an empath and I'm a precog, and together we get feelings and visions. That's how we first found you, and we've been trying to guide you ever since, using the information we sense. Ever since Riley asked us to look after you —" "Riley?" I gape, my stomach swirling with nausea. How could she be involved in any of this? "We met her in Summerland and showed her around. We even went to school together, a private boarding school she manifested, which is why we wear this." She motions to her plaid skirt and blazer, the uniform she and her sister always wear. And I remember how Riley always dreamed of going to boarding school, saying it was so she could get away from me. So it makes sense that she'd manifest one. "Then, when she decided to—" she pauses, glancing at Roman before she continues, "to cross over, she asked us to look after you if we ever saw you around." "I don't believe you," I say, even though I have no reason not to. "Riley would've told me, she would've . .." But then I remember how she once said something about meeting some people who showed her around, and I wonder if she was referring to the twins. "We also know Damen —he—he helped us once—a long time ago ..." And when she looks at me, I'm just about to fold when she says, "But if you could just wait a few more hours until the antidote's complete, then Romy will be here and ..." I glance at Damen, his emaciated body, his pale, clammy skin, his eyes appearing sunken, his breath ragged, every inhale and exhale progressively weaker—and I know there's only one choice to make. So I turn my back on Rayne and look at Roman when I say, "Okay, just tell me what to do."
CHAPTER 51
Roman nods, his eyes on mine as he removes the antidote from my grasp and says, "We'll need something sharp."
I squint, not quite understanding. "What're you talking about? If that's really the antidote like you say, then why can't he just drink it? I mean, it's ready, right?" My stomach twisting under the weight of his gaze, so steady and focused on mine. "It is the antidote. It just requires one final ingredient to make it complete." I suck in my breath, knowing I should've known better, that it couldn't be that easy when Roman's involved. "What is it?" I say, my voice as shaky as I feel inside. "What kind of game are you playing?" "There, there." He smiles. "Not to worry. It's nothing too complicated —and it certainly won't take hours. " He shakes his head at Rayne. "All we need to get this show on the road is just a drop or two of your blood.
That's it."
I stare at him, not comprehending. I mean, how could that make the slightest bit of difference between life and death?
But Roman just looks at me, answering the question in my head when he says, "In order to save your immortal partner, he must consume an antidote containing a drop of his true love's blood. Believe me, it's the only way."
I swallow hard, far less afraid of shedding blood than being played a fool and losing Damen for good.
"Surely you're not worried that you're not really Damen's one true love — are you ?" he asks, his lips curving the tiniest bit. "Perhaps I should call Stacia instead?"
I grasp a pair of nearby scissors and aim them toward my wrist, and I'm just about to plunge when Rayne screams, "Ever, no ! Don't do it! It's a trick! Don't believe him! Don't listen to a word he says!"
I look at Damen, seeing the labored rise and fall of his chest moving so slow and ragged now there's no time to waste. I know in my heart that he has only minutes left, not hours. Then I bring the scissors down hard, watching as their sharp pointy tip penetrates my wrist, nearly splitting it in two. Shooting a geyser of blood straight into the air, before gravity takes over and pushes it down. Hearing Rayne scream, a wail so piercing it cuts through the sound of everything else, as Roman crouches beneath me, collecting my blood. And other than feeling faint, and the slightest bit dizzy, it's only a matter of seconds before my veins are fused and my skin is all healed. So I grab the bottle, ignore Rayne's protests, and break through the circle, pushing her aside as I drop to my knees, slipping my fingers under Damen's neck as I force him to drink. Watching his breath grow fainter and fainter —until it stops completely.
"NO!" I cry. "You can't die —you can't leave me!" I force the liquid down the length of his throat, determined to bring him back, return him to life, like he once did with me.
I hold him to me, willing him to live. Everything around us completely shut out as I focus on Damen, my one true soul mate, my eternal partner, my only love, refusing to say good-bye, refusing to give up hope. And when the bottle is empty, I collapse onto his chest, pressing my lips against his, filling him with my breath, my being, my life. As I murmur the words he once said to me: "Open your eyes and look at me!"
Over and over again —
Until he finally does.
"Damen!" I cry, a flood of tears streaming down my cheeks and onto his face. "Oh, thank God, you're back! I missed you so much —and I love you—and I promise I'll never ever leave you again! Just —just please forgive me —please—"
His eyes flicker open as his mouth tries to move, forming words I can't hear. And when I lower my ear to his lips, so grateful to be with him again, our reunion is cut short by a series of claps.
Slow, steady claps coming from Roman who's now standing behind me. Having penetrated the circle as Rayne cowers in a far corner of the room.
"Bravo!" he says, his face mocking, amused, as he glances between Damen and me. "Well done, Ever. I must say, that was all very — touching. It's not often one bears witness to such a heartfelt reunion."
I swallow hard, my hands shaking, my stomach beginning to ping, wondering what he could possibly be up to. I mean, Damen's alive, the antidote worked, what else could there be?
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