Dark Flame ti-4 Read online

  She peers into the box, tapping the lid of each bottle with the tip of her black-painted nail, gazing at us in confusion when she says, "That's it? Seven? Only a one-week supply? I mean, you're not serious, are you? How am I supposed to survive on just this? You trying to kill me before I even have a chance to get started?"

  "Duh, you're immortal-they can't kill you." Rayne shakes her head and rolls her eyes.

  "Duh, yes they can. That's why Ever makes me wear this."

  Haven snakes her amulet out from under her black lace top and waves it in front of Rayne's face.

  But Rayne just groans, crossing her skinny, pale arms across her sunken chest when she says, "Please, I know all about that. Take it off, get a punch to the wrong chakra and you're toast. Leave it on and you live happily ever after and after and after. It's not rocket science, you know."

  "Jeez, is she always this grouchy?" Haven asks, laughing and shaking her head.

  And just as I start to say yes, glad to have an ally for a change if nothing else, I watch as she gets up from her chair and plops down beside Rayne, mussing her hair and tickling her feet in a way that makes them instant best friends. And just like that, I'm back to being the outcast again.

  "You don't need to drink it every day," Damen says, determined to get this back on track. "In fact, you could last the next hundred and fifty years without so much as a single sip, perhaps even longer, who knows?"

  "Well, if that's the case, then why do you sip it like your life depends on it?" Haven asks, removing Rayne's feet from her lap as she takes us both in.

  Damen shrugs. "I guess because it kind of does at this point. I've been around awhile, you know. A long while."

  "How long?" Haven leans forward, pushing her platinumstreaked bangs off her face and gazing at him with two heavily made-up eyes.

  "Long. Anyway-the point is-" "Wait-you're joking, right? I mean, you're seriously not gonna tell me your real age? What are you-like one of those thirty-somethings who pile up the twenty-ninth birthdays well into their eighties? I mean, sorry, Damen, but how vain are you?" She laughs and shakes her head. "Trust me, when I'm old, I plan to shout it from the rooftops. I can't wait 'til I'm a porcelain-skinned one hundred and eighty-two."

  "It's not vanity, it's-practicality," Damen snaps, and when I look at him, I realize he's flustered, but probably only because it is a little bit vanity, he just doesn't want to admit it. As much as he's tried to rid himself of all the fancy clothes, hairgrooming products, and handmade Italian leather boots, a hint of vanity remains. "Besides, you can't flaunt it, you can't tell anyone. I thought you and Ever talked about that?"

  "We did," Haven and I both say, our voices blending as one.

  "So, there should be no question. You just stick to your normal cupcake-eating routine, keeping your behavior as normal as possible, careful not to draw any-" "Unnecessary attention to myself." Haven shakes her head and rolls her eyes in the most exaggerated way. "Trust me, Ever gave me the whole lowdown, warned me of the dark side, the monster under the bed, the one in the closet, not to mention the boogeyman who lives under the stairs, and I hate to break it to you, but I'm not really interested in any of that. I've been ordinary my whole entire life. Ignored, overlooked, practically blending into the walls and treated like I was invisible no matter how crazy I tried to act and dress, and I'm telling you, that kind of anonymity is overrated. I'm totally and completely over it. So if now's my chance to really kick it-to really stand out and be seen for a change-well, I'm not about to hold back. I plan to embrace it with all that I've got! So, with that in mind, I'm thinking you can do a little better than this."

  She taps the side of the box. "Come on, humor me, hand over the juice so I can give everyone the shock of a lifetime when we start senior year."

  Damen looks at me, alarmed, speechless-shooting me a look that says: She's your creation-your Frankenstein-do something!

  So I clear my throat and turn to her, legs crossed, hands clasped, rearranging my face into a pleasant expression despite the fact that I'm every bit as freaked as he is. "Haven-please," I say, careful to keep my voice steady and low. "We talked about this-we-" But not getting very far before she cuts in. "You drink it all the time-so why can't I?" She drums her fingers against the box and narrows her gaze.

  I pause, unsure how to explain that the juice enhances my powers, powers I prefer she not have, fumbling around for just the right words when I say, "While it may appear that way, the thing is-I don't really need it-not like Damen does anyway. I just sort of drink it because-well-because I'm used to it. And even though it doesn't taste all that great-I kind of like it. But trust me, it's really not necessary to drink it every day-not even every week-or every year, for that matter. Like Damen said, you can go a hundred years, maybe two hundred, without a single sip." I nod, hoping she'll buy it, not wanting her to know about the surge in power and speed and magical abilities that regular consumption can bring. That would only make her want it more.

  "Fine." She nods. "Guess I'll just have to get it from Roman, then. I'm sure he'd be happy to give it to me."

  I swallow hard, not saying a word, well aware that she's challenging me. Watching as Luna jumps onto her lap and Haven starts to pet her.

  "Hey there, kitty-weren't you supposed to be mine? Is that why you're here now? Because you sense your true owner?"

  She lifts her up high and nuzzles her chin, laughing when Romy jumps up from her end of the couch and snatches her away. "Relax." Haven laughs. "It's not like I'm gonna steal her or anything."

  "You can't steal her." Romy glares, lifting Luna onto her shoulder, her favorite place to perch. "You can't own her either.

  Pets aren't possessions, they're not accessories you discard when you decide you no longer want them. They're living creatures that share our lives." She looks at her sister, signaling for her to follow as she storms out of the room.

  "Jeez-testy!" Haven glances over her shoulder, watching them leave.

  But I'm not about to let her brush that off, she's the one who put it out there, now I'm just following up. "Speaking of-how is Roman?" I ask, trying to come off as conversational, only vaguely interested, hoping no one else noticed the way my voice just trembled when his name left my lips.

  She shrugs, sensing exactly where I'm going with this when she says, "Fine. He's just fine, thanks for asking. But I've got nothing to report. Or at least nothing that would interest you."

  She glances between Damen and me, her lips curling up at the corners as though it's all a big joke, a game she hasn't fully committed to playing, despite the assurance she gave.

  Switching her focus to her nails when she says, "Jeez, do your nails grow this fast too? I mean, I just cut them this morning and check it out, they're already long again!" She holds her hands up so we can see. "And my hair-I swear my bangs have grown a full half inch in just a few days!"

  Damen and I exchange a quick glance, both of us thinking the same thing: All of this on just one bottle of elixir? And knowing I've no choice but to tell her, and hoping I can pull it off convincingly, I say, "Listen-about Roman-" She drops her hands in her lap, cradling the box as she looks at me.

  "I've been thinking-" I pause, aware of Damen's gaze, deep, intense, boring right into mine, wondering where I'm headed with this, since I certainly haven't discussed it with him. But the truth is, it's a conclusion I've only just come to myself-a result of all the creepy things that have happened in the past twenty-four hours. "I think you need to avoid him at all costs," I say, eyeing her carefully. "Seriously. If it's money you need, I can totally float you until you find another job, but I don't think you should be working there. It's not-safe. And even though I know you don't believe me, even though you think I've got it all wrong, the thing is, I don't. Damen was there too, he can tell you." I glance at Damen, seeing him nod in agreement, but Haven remains unaffected, her face so placid it's like she hasn't even heard. "I can't express it enough," I urge. "Seriously. He's dangerous. A complete and total men
ace. Not to mention he's-" Evil and awful, and devastatingly, alluringly irresistible-his voice in my head, his face in my dreams-always there, ever-present-and no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to shake him-can't stop thinking about him-can't stop wanting him-can't stop dreaming about him-"And-um-anyway, I'd hate to see you get hurt." I swallow hard, my body so ramped up with just the thought of him, with that strange, foreign pulse stirring inside me, I come this close to blowing my cover.

  But when she looks at me, her brow lifted as though she heard the words in my head, sees what I really am up to, I panic. Privately and quietly panic. Until I remember that my shield is in place. And no matter how powerful she may be, if Damen couldn't hear me, then neither could she.

  "Listen, Ever, it's been covered, and now you're just being redundant. I heard you the first time, just like I heard you this time. And if you'll remember, we agreed to disagree. Besides, how you gonna get what you want if I don't cozy up to him?"

  She glances between us, eyes narrowed, catlike. "Trust me, Roman's hardly a threat, at least not to me. He's so incredibly sweet, and kind, and loving-he's nothing at all like you think.

  So if you two want to be together"-she wags her finger between Damen and me-"then you'll probably want to stay on my good side. As far as I can tell, I'm pretty much your only shot at this point-no?"

  Damen steps forward, his eyes sparking, angry, voice low and menacing when he says, "It's a dangerous game that you're playing. And while I realize you're excited about your prospects, thrilled with this new power that's raging inside you, it's all too easy to get in over your head. I know, because I was once like you. In fact, I was the first. And even though it was a very long time ago, I remember it like yesterday. I also remember the long list of mistakes I made, the regrets I accumulated when I let my hunger for power override my common sense and human decency. Don't be like me, Haven.

  Don't make that mistake. And don't you even consider threatening either Ever or me in any way. We have plenty of options, plenty of means, and we don't need you to-" "Enough already!" Haven shakes her head as her eyes dart between us. "I'm sick of you both talking down to me all the time. Did you ever stop to think that maybe I can teach you guys a thing or two about how to use all this power?" She rolls her eyes and scowls, answering her own question when she says, "Of course not! It's just, 'Do this, Haven, do that, Haven, we're rationing your elixir because we don't trust you, Haven.' I mean, come on. If you refuse to trust me, then why am I supposed to trust you?"

  "It's not you we don't trust," I say, eager to defuse this, calm things down before it gets any more heated. "It's Roman. I know you don't want to see it, but he's using you. You're just a pawn in this twisted little game that he plays. He sees all your weaknesses and he's using them to pull your strings like a puppet."

  "And what weaknesses are those?" She drums her fingers against the box and presses her lips into a thin, grim line.

  But before this can go any further, escalate into something we'll all surely regret, Damen holds up a hand and jumps in.

  "We're not trying to pick a fight with you, Haven. We're trying to protect you. It's for your own good."

  "Because I need protecting? Because I'm too dumb to figure stuff out for myself?" Her gaze darts between us, and when Damen sighs in frustration, her eyes grow cold. Then she nods, grips the box tighter, and stands. "I wish I could believe you, but the thing is, I just can't. Because you're the one holding something back, Ever-I can feel it. And even though I have no idea what it is, one thing's pathetically clear-you're jealous." Her lip curls when she adds, "Yep, believe it or not, perfect Ever Bloom is jealous of me-little Haven Turner."

  She shakes her head. "How's that for a change of events?"

  I stiffen but continue to stand there, not saying a word.

  "You're used to being top dog around here. The smartest, the prettiest, the most perfect at everything, with the most perfect, smartest, sexiest boyfriend." She smiles at Damen, then shrugs and laughs when he fails to return her smile. "And now that I'm immortal like you, it's just a matter of time until I catch up-until I'm perfect too. And the fact is, you can't stand it. Can't stand the thought of it. But the funny part, the ironic part is, in the end, you have only yourself to blame, since you're the one who made me this way. And even though you claim you'd make the same decision all over again, I can't help but think you liked me better before. Back when I was a pathetic, little, attention-starved wannabe-the loser who ate too many cupcakes and made up stuff at anonymous meetings." She shrugs, shoulders rising and falling with such confidence, such arrogance, it's clear she's no longer that girl.

  "Don't bother denying it, I know those are the weaknesses you were referring to. It's pretty obvious how superior you've always felt to Miles and me. Like you were deigning to hang with us until something better came your way-" "That's not true-you're my best friends-my-" "Please." She rolls her eyes, clucking her tongue against her cheek in the same way Roman does. "Spare me your heartfelt declarations. The moment the Italian stallion came along"-she nods at Damen-"we pretty much only saw you at lunch, and sometimes not even then, since the perfect little couple was too busy with their perfect little lives, and their perfect little love, to hang with such unperfect dorks like us.

  We were just the losers you kept on standby-just in case you might need us someday. But now it looks like you're in for a long and lonely summer cuz Miles is headed for Florence, and I made some new friends who aren't the slightest bit intimidated by the new me."

  "Haven-this is crazy! How can you even say these things?"

  I ask, as my eyes rake over her, taking her in. Even though she's just as teeny as ever, even though she hasn't grown even the slightest bit, it's like her diminutive stature is somehow more pronounced-more toned, more sinewy, like she's a tiny black panther in black leather leggings, lacy black shirt, and tall spiky black boots. And though she's gotten mad at me before, this time is different-she's different. Now she's dangerous, and knows it, and likes it that way.

  "How can I say it?" she mocks, eyes narrowed into slits.

  "Because it's true, that's how." She dumps the box into Damen's arms, assuming he'll catch it as she heads for the door, glancing over her shoulder to say, "You can keep your elixir. I've got my own source. And trust me, he'll be more than happy to teach me all the things that you won't."

  eight

  Damen turns toward me, the word trouble coursing from his mind to mine.

  But I just stand there, so stunned I have no idea where to take it from here.

  "I knew she'd be a problem." He shakes his head and drops onto the couch. "She's too fragile, too volatile, she won't be able to handle any of this. She'll be consumed with power before long, just wait."

  "Wait?" I perch on the armrest beside him. "Are you serious? Wait for what? You think it's actually gonna get worse than what we just saw?"

  He nods, making a great effort to withhold the I told you so gaze. But it's not like it matters. We both know I'm the one responsible for this mess.

  I sigh, sliding off the armrest and toppling onto him.

  Knowing I have to do something-take control of this situation before it gets any worse-but having no idea what that something is. Every decision I've made up to this point has only made everything worse. And I'm just so tired-so drained-all I want to do is take a nice long peaceful nap where Roman can't enter my dreams.

  Roman.

  The name reverberating from my mind to his, and when he looks at me, I know it's too late-I know that he sensed it.

  "Why'd you change your mind?" He studies me closely, seeking the truth behind the look in my eyes, the words on my tongue. "Why'd you tell her to avoid him?"

  "Because you were right," I mumble, hating the lie I'm about to tell. "It was a selfish thing to do-to put her in that kind of danger just so we could benefit-" I shake my head, allowing my hair to fall onto my face in a way that obscures it.

  Because the truth is, I'm worried I didn't do it for
her.

  I'm worried I tried to keep her from Roman, so there'd be more room for me.

  I remain like that, face hidden as I struggle to pull myself together, summon up some small glimmer of the old me.

  Finally lifting my head only to find his brow creased with worry, as his hand squeezes my knee.

  "Hey, take it easy," he says, voice soft and low. "Don't be so hard on yourself. So, we've entered a bit of a glitch, we'll get through it. We still have each other, right? That's all that matters in the big scheme of things. As for everything else-we'll find a way-I promise we will."

  "Do we?" I look at him, my eyes going wide when I realize what I just said, having meant to say will we-meant to question the part about finding a way and not the part about us having each other.

  He looks at me, clearly disturbed by my words. "I thought that was a given. Am I wrong?"

  I swallow hard and reach for his hand, watching as the slim veil of energy dances between his palm and mine, holding back the words until I can trust my voice again. "You're not wrong," I whisper. "You're the best thing in my life-the only thing that truly matters." Repeating the words that I know for sure to be true, just wishing I could feel them in the same way that I used to.

  But Damen's not buying it, he knows me too well-having witnessed a million different mood swings, a gazillion different voice inflections and avoidance techniques over the last four hundred years-and that's just counting mine.

  "Ever, is something wrong? You've been acting strange ever since-" I look at him, my voice sharp, edgy, cutting in when I say, "Ever since I made you drink the elixir that turned our touch lethal?"

  He shakes his head.

  "Ever since I turned Haven into an immortal?"

  He shakes his head again, this time pressing his finger to my lips, quieting me when he says, "I wasn't referring to any of those things. You made the best decisions you could under the circumstances you found yourself in. I've no right to fault you for that. What I was going to say is you've been acting strange ever since you started delving into magick. You seem preoccupied, distracted, like you're never fully present anymore. And I'm worried about you, wondering if you've gotten in over your head, and if so, how I might help."