“Sometimes-I-just-can’t-wait-for-this-year-to-be-over-so-that-we-can-graduate-and-go-somewhere-far-away-where-we-can-live-our-own-lives-and-be-done-with-all-this.” I exhale the words so quickly they all run together so that one is practically indistinguishable from the next. “I mean, I feel bad for saying it, especially after all that she’s done, but still, the fact is she doesn’t even know the half of what I can do. All she knows is that I have psychic abilities—that’s it! Can you even imagine how she’d react if I told her the real truth? That I’m an immortal with physical powers she can’t even begin to fathom? Like the power of instant manifestation, and, oh yeah, let’s not forget about that brief bout of time travel I engaged in recently, not to mention how I like to spend my free time in this charming little out-of-the-way alternate dimension called Summerland where my immortal boyfriend and I make out in our various past-life guises! Can you imagine how that would go over?”
Damen looks at me, eyes glinting in a way that instantly fills me with a swarm of tingle and heat, smiling as he says, “What do you say we don’t find out, okay?”
He stops at the light and pulls me near. His lips grazing my forehead, my cheek, down the length of my neck, until finally, finally, melding with mine.
Moving away just seconds before the light turns green, and glancing at me when he says, “You sure you want to go through with this?”
The warmth of his deep, dark gaze holding the look for just a tad longer than necessary. Allowing me plenty of time to say no, that I’m not at all ready, not even close, so he can turn the car around and head somewhere else. Somewhere nicer, friendlier, warmer—like a far-away beach or maybe even a Summerland retreat—a small part of him hoping I’ll consent to just that.
He’s over the whole high school scene. Has been for centuries. I’m the only reason he’s here. The only reason he stays. And now that we’re together, blissfully reunited after several painful centuries of being ripped apart over and over again, he just doesn’t see the point to all this. Views it as some sort of useless charade.
And even though I don’t always see the point either, since it’s pretty hard to actually learn anything when the knowledge comes as easily as reading our teacher’s minds or placing our hands on the cover of a book and intuiting the contents inside, I’m still determined to hang in there and see it all the way through.
Mostly because it’s pretty much the only part of my totally bizarre life that’s even the slightest bit normal. And no matter how bored Damen may get, no matter how often he begs me to just blow it all off so we can go start our lives instead, I won’t do it. Can’t do it. For some strange reason, I just really want us to graduate.
I want to hold that diploma in my hand and toss my cap in the air.
And today we’re taking the first step toward that end.
I smile and nod and urge him to continue, seeing a flash of unease cloud his face, and returning the look with a newfound confidence and strength. Straightening my shoulders and scraping my hair into a ponytail that sits low on my neck, smoothing the wrinkles from my dress and preparing for the battle ahead.
Even though I’m not sure what’s coming or exactly what to expect, even though I can’t see into my own future as easily as I can everyone else’s, if there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that Haven still blames me for Roman’s death.
Still blames me for everything that’s gone wrong in her life.
And has every intention of making good on her promise to ruin me.
“Trust me, I’m more than ready.” I gaze out the side window, scanning the crowd for my former best friend, knowing it’s just a matter of time before she’ll make the first move, and hoping I’ll have a chance to turn it around before we both do something we’ll no doubt regret.
four
It isn’t until lunch that we see her.
Everyone sees her.
She’s impossible to miss.
Like an unexpected swirl of icy blue frost—like an intricate icicle edged in sharp curves—she’s as enticing, exotic, and startling as a surprise wintry chill on a hot summer day.
A large group of students swarm all around her—the very same people who looked past her before.
But there’s no missing her now.
No missing her unearthly beauty, her irresistible lure.
She’s not the same Haven she used to be. She’s entirely different. Transformed.
Where she used to fade, she now glistens.
Where once she repelled, she attracts.
And what I used to think of as her standard black leather and lace, rock ’n’ roll gypsy look, has been swapped for a sort of languorous, mesmerizing, slightly morbid glamour. Like an arctic version of a dark, mournful bride, she’s dressed in a long body-skimming gown with a deep V in front, long floaty sleeves, and layer upon layer of soft, silky blue fabric that drags behind her, sweeping the ground, while her neck practically sags with the weight of jewels she’s layered upon it—a combination of glossy Tahitian pearls, glittery cabochon sapphires, large roughly cut chunks of turquoise, and highly polished clusters of aquamarine, with long, jet black hair that hangs in glossy, loose waves trailing all the way down to her waist. The platinum streak that once marked her bangs now dyed the same deep shade of cobalt that graces her nails, lines her eyes, and glistens in the jewel that marks the space just above and between her finely arched brows.
A look the old Haven could’ve never pulled off; she would’ve been laughed out of school before the first bell could ring—but not anymore.
I mumble under my breath, as Damen reaches for me. His fingers grasping mine in what’s meant to be a reassuring squeeze, but we’re just as entranced as everyone else in this school. Unable to tear our eyes away from the sheen of her ultra pale skin, the way it gleams in a sea of black and blue. Resulting in an oddly fragile, ethereal look—like a freshly made bruise—completely belying the determination within.
“The amulet,” Damen whispers, gaze briefly meeting mine, before returning to her. “She’s not wearing it, it’s…gone.”