The moment I saw his eyes, I knew. He turns, his gaze meeting mine. So tell me, Ever, tell me the truth, was it not the same way with you?
I swallow hard, wanting to look away, but knowing I cant. Hell misread it, assume Im holding back. Remembering the moment Jude caught me alone in his store, the way my heart raced, my cheeks flushed, along with the odd, nervous dance in my gut. One moment I was fine and the nexta mess. And all because Judes deep sea green eyes met mine . . .
It couldnt mean
Couldnt possibly
Could it?
I rise from the couch, moving toward him til our bodies are mere inches apart. Wanting to assure him, assure me. Find a way to prove that none of it meant anything.
But this is Summerland. And thoughts are energy. And Im afraid he just witnessed mine.
Its not your fault, he says, voice hoarse, rough. Please dont feel bad.
I shove my hands in my pockets, pushing as deep as theyll go, determined to steady myself in a world thats no longer stable.
I want you to know how sorry I am. And yet He shakes his head. Sorry just doesnt cut it. Its woefully inadequate, and you deserve better than that. Im afraid the only thing I can do nowthe only thing thatll make things right, is to
His voice breaks, prompting me to lift my face until its even with his. The two of us standing so close the slightest move forward could easily bridge the gap.
But just as Im about to make the leap, he backs away, gaze steady, features drawn tight, determined to be heard when he says, Im stepping aside. Its the only thing I can do at this point. From this moment on, I will no longer interfere with your fate. From this point on, every move toward your destiny is yours and yours alone to make.
My vision goes blurry, throat hot and tight. Surely he cant mean what I think?
Can he?
Gazing upon him as he stands before me, my perfect soul mate, the love of my lives, the one person I was sure was my shelter now leaving my side.
Ive no right to barge into your life in the way that I have. Never giving you the chance to choose for yourself. And you know what the worst part is? He looks at me, eyes filled with such self-loathing Im pressed to look away. I wasnt even noble enough, wasnt even man enough, to play fair. He shakes his head. I used every trick in the book, all the powers at my disposal to annihilate the competition. And while Ive no way to change the past four hundred yearsnor the immortality Ive forced upon youIm hoping that nowby stepping asideIll allow you some smidgen of freedom in allowing you to choose.
Between you and Jude? I gape, voice rising to the point of hysteria, wanting him to say it. Just say it. Quit dancing around it and get to the point.
But he just continues to stand there, world-weary gaze focused on mine.
Well, there is no choice! No choice at all! Jude is my bosshes not the least bit interested in meor I in him!
Then you fail to see what I see, Damen says, as though its a factsome large, solid object parked right before me.
Thats because theres nothing to see. Dont you get it? All I see is you! I gaze at him, vision blurry, hands shaky, feeling so awful and empty as though each breath just might be my last.
But as soon as Ive said it, Damen highlights the painting again. Causing it to glow in a way that cant be ignored. But even though he thinks its significant, that girl is a stranger to me. My soul may have once occupied her body, but its no longer home.
I start to speak, wanting to explain that, but no words will come. Only a long piercing wail that courses from my mind to his. A sound that means please and donta sound without end.
Im not going anywhere, he says, immune to my plea. Ill always be close, somewhere nearby. Able to sense you, keeping you safe. But as for the rest He shakes his head, voice defeated, sad, but determined to be heard. Im afraid I can no longerIm afraid Ill have to
But I wont let him finish, cant let him finish, cutting right in when I cry, Ive already tried a life without you, when I went back in time, and guess what? Fate sent me right back! Gaze blurred by tears, but I dont turn away. I want him to see it. Want him to know exactly what his misguided altruism is costing me.
But, Ever, that doesnt mean you were meant to be with me, maybe you were sent back to find Jude, and now that you have
Fine, I say, refusing to let him finish, not when I have plenty more evidence proving my case. Then what about the time you held your hand close, making me focus on our tingle and heat, claiming thats exactly how it feels between soul mates? What about that? Did you not mean it? Are you taking it back?
Ever He shakes his head and rubs his eyes. Ever, I
Dont you get it? I shake my head, sensing his energy, knowing it wont make the least bit of difference but continuing anyway. Dont you see that I only want you?
He brings his hand to my cheek, fingers so soft and lovinga cruel reminder of what Ill no longer havehis thoughts traveling the distance from his head to mine, pleading with me to understand, to give it some time.
Please dont think this is easy for me. I had no idea how painful it is to act without the slightest hint of self-interestmaybe thats why I never tried before? He smiles, attempting a bit of levity that I refuse to accept. Wanting him to feel as awful and empty as me. I robbed you of ever seeing your family againput your very soul at riskhis gaze narrows on mineBut, Ever, youve got to listen, you must understand, its time for you to choose the one thing you still canwithout interference from me!
Ive already chosen, I say, voice wooden, weary, too tired to fight. I chose you and you cant take it back. I look at him, knowing my words are useless, hes fixed on his plan. Damen, seriously, so I knew him hundreds of years ago in a country I havent visited since. Big deal! One lifeout of how many?
He looks at me for a moment, then closes his eyes, voice barely a whisper as he says, It wasnt just one life, Ever. Fading the gallery though keeping the windmills and tulips as he manifests a whole world before meseveral worlds in factParisLondonNew Englandall lined up in a row, placed right in the middle of Amsterdam where we both stand. Worlds that stay true to their timethe architecture, the clothingall indicative of their periodyet devoid of their citizenspopulated only by three.
Me in all of my guisesa lowly Parisian servantspoiled London society girldaughter of a Puritanwith Jude always beside mea French stable boya British Earla fellow parishionereach of us different, changing, though the eyes are the same.
And I watch, focusing on one vignette at a time, the scene playing before me like a well-staged play. My interest in Jude always waning the moment Damen comes on the scenejust as magical and mesmerizing as he is today, using all of his tricks to steal me away.
I stand there, breathless, no idea what to say. All I know is that I want it to fade.
I face him, understanding why he feels like he does, but knowing it doesnt make the least bit of difference. Not to me. Not where my heart is concerned.
So youve made up your mind. Fine. I dont like it, but fine. But what I really need to know is just how long are we talking here? Couple days? A week? I shake my head. Just how long will it take for you to accept the fact that no matter what happens, no matter what you may think or say, no matter how unfair the fight may have seemed, I choose you. Ive always chosen you. For me theres only you.
This isnt something you can attach a date toyouve got to give yourself time, time to release your attachment to metime to move on
Just because youre determined to do this, just because you want to make things right despite what I say, just because you invented the game doesnt mean you make all the rules. Because if youre truly intent on letting me choose, then I choose until the end of today.
He shakes his head, eyes appearing the slightest bit lighter, and if Im not mistaken, tinged with a hint of relief.
And in that moment, I knowa glimmer of hope that makes my heart soar. He hates this just as much as I do. Im not the only one around here in need of an end date.
The end of the year, he says, jaw clenched in a way that tells me hes trying to be noble, gallant, ridiculously so. That should allow plenty of time.
I shake my head, barely allowing him the chance to finish when I say, By the end of tomorrow. Im sure Ill have my decision by then.
But hes not having it, refusing to even negotiate, saying, Ever, please, weve our whole lives ahead of us if thats what you choose. Trust me, theres really no hurry.
The end of next week. I nod, voice tightening, wondering how Ill possibly make it til then.
The end of the summer, he says, the words final as his gaze meets mine.
I stand before him, unable to speak. Thinking how the summer Ive been anticipating since we first got togetherimagining three months of frolic and fun in the Laguna Beach sunhas quickly deteriorated into the loneliest season.
Knowing theres no more to say, I move away. Ignoring his hand reaching for mine, wanting to make the return trip together.
If hes so determined for me to choose my own path, then I choose to start now. By leaving the gallery and heading onto the street, making my way through Amsterdam, Paris, London, and New England, without once looking back.
CHAPTER 32
The moment I turn the corner, I run. Feet moving so quickly, its as though I can outrun Damen, the gallery, everything, all of it. The cobblestone first fading to pavement then grass, running past all of my usual Summerland haunts, determined to manifest one of my owna place where Damen cant go.
Making my way to the top of the wooden bleachers at my old school, facing the scoreboard that reads GO BEARS! and claiming the seat in the far right corner where I tried my first (and last) cigarette, where I kissed my ex-boyfriend Brandon for the very first time, and where my former friend Rachel and I once reigned supreme, giggling and flirting in our cheerleading outfits, totally unaware of just how complicated life can be.
I place my feet on the bench right before me and bring my head to my knees, choking back great, shoulder-heaving sobs as I try to make sense of what happened. Sniffling into a handful of manifested tissues as I gaze bleary eyed at a football field crowded with faceless, nameless players running through their practice drills as their hair-tossing girlfriends gossip and flirt from the side. Hoping such a familiar, normal scene will somehow provide the comfort I needthen making it fade when I only feel worse.
This is no longer my life. No longer my fate.
Damens my future. Theres no doubt in my mind.
Even though I get all jumpy and nervous whenever Judes near, even though theres an undeniable something whenever we meetit doesnt mean anything. Doesnt mean hes The One. Its merely the effect of our past familiarity, a subconscious recognition, no more.
Just because he played a part in my history doesnt mean he has a role in my future other than boss at a summer job I never wouldve gone looking for if Sabine hadnt made me. So how can I possibly be at fault? How can this possibly be anything other than just a weird coincidence, a pesky part of my past that, through no fault of mine, refuses to die?
I mean, its not like I went looking for thisright?
Right?
But even though my heart knows the truth, I cant help but wonder just what we once meant to each other.
Did I really emerge from a lake not caring if he saw the nude me? Or was that portrait taken straight from his overactive imagination?
Which only leads me to more questionsones Id prefer to ignore, like:
Was I not really a virgin for the last four hundred years like I thought?
Did I actually sleep with Jude and not Damen?
And if so, is that why I feel so shy and weird around him now?
I gaze at the empty field before me, turning it into the Roman Coliseum, the Egyptian Pyramids, the Acropolis in Athens, the Grand Bazaar in Istanbul, the Opera House in Sydney, St. Marks Square in Venice, the Medina in Marrakechwatching the scenery whirl and change, becoming all the places I hope to visit someday, knowing only one thing for sure:
Ive got three months.
Three months without Damen.
Three months of knowing hes out there, somewhere, but unable to touch him, access him, be with him again.
Three months in which to learn enough magick to solve all our problems and get him back for good.
Knowing more than Ive ever known anythingthat he alone is my future, my destiny, no matter what came before.
I focus back on the scenery, the Grand Canyon morphing into Machu Picchu, which becomes the Great Wall of China, knowing theres plenty of time for this later, but for now, Ive got to go back.
Back to the earth plane.
Back to the store.
Hoping to catch Jude before he closes up shop, needing him to teach me, once and for all, how to read that book.
CHAPTER 33
All week I avoided Sabine. I didnt think it was possible, but between school, my new job, and Miless final Hairspray per formance, I was pretty much scot-free until the moment Im about to toss my breakfast down the sink.
So. She smiles, sidling up beside me, dressed in workout clothes and glistening with the glow of good health and sweat. Dont we have something to talk about? A conversation youve worked hard to delay?
I reach for my glass and shrug, unsure what to say.
Hows your new job? Everything okay?
I nod, easy, noncommittal, as though Im far too interested in chugging this juice to respond.
Because I can probably still squeeze you in on that internship if youd like
I shake my head and finish the remains, including the pulp. Rinsing my cup and placing it into the dishwasher as I say, Not necessary. Catching the expression on her face and adding, Really. Its all good.
She studies me, gaze intense, really taking me in. Ever, why didnt you mention that Paul was your teacher?
I freeze, but only for a moment before I turn my attention to a bowl of cereal I have no interest in eating. Grabbing a spoon and swirling the contents around and around as I say, Because Paul with the cool shoes and designer jeans isnt my teacher. Mr. Munoz with the dork glasses and pressed khakis is. I lift the spoon to my mouth, carefully avoiding her gaze.
I just cant believe you didnt say anything. She shakes her head and frowns.
I shrug, pretending I dont want to speak with my mouth full, when the truth is, I dont want to speak.
Does it bother you? That Im dating your teacher? She squints, sliding the towel off her neck and pressing it to her forehead.
I stir the cereal around and around, knowing theres no way I can eat any more, not after shes started all this. As long as you dont talk about me. I study her closely, reading her aura, her body language, noting the way she just shifted uncomfortably, and stopping just short of peering into her head. I mean, you dont talk about me, right? I add, gaze fixed on hers.
But she just laughs, averting her eyes as a flush blooms on her cheeks. Turns out weve got much more in common than that.
Yeah? Like what? I mash my spoon against my cereal, displacing my frustration onto my Froot Loops and turning them into a soggy, rainbow-colored mess. Wondering if I should break the news to her now or save it for later. The startling revelation that this love match wont lastnot according to the vision I saw of her paired up with some cute, nameless guy who works in her building
Well, for starters were both fascinated by the Italian Renaissance
I look at her, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. Having never heard her mention that and Ive lived with her for nearly a year.
We both love Italian food
Oh yeah, definitely soul mates. The only two people who actually like pizza and pasta and stuff drenched with red sauce and cheese . . .
And as of Friday, hell be spending quite a bit of time in my building!
I stop. Stop everything. Including breathing and blinking, so I can stand there and gape.
Hes working as an expert witness on a case that
Her lips keep moving, hands gesturing, but I stopped listening a few sentences back. Her words drowned by the sound of my own crashing heart, accompanied by the silent scream that crowds everything out.
No!
It cant be.
Cant. Be.
Can it?
Remembering the vision that night in the restaurantSabine getting together with a cute guy who works in her buildinga guy, who, without the glasses I didnt even recognize as Munoz! Knowing immediately what this really meansthis is ither destinyMunoz is The One!
You okay? Her hand reaches for mine as concern clouds her face.
But I pull away quickly, avoiding her touch. Swallowing hard as I paste a smile onto my face, knowing she deserves to be happyheck, even he deserves to be happy. But stillwhy do they have to be happy together? Seriously, out of all the men she could date, why does it have to be my teacher, the one who knows my secret?
I look at her, forcing a nod as I drop my bowl in the sink, fleeing for the door as I say, Yeahits all good, seriously. I justI dont want to be late.
CHAPTER 34
Hey, its Sunday we dont even open til eleven. Jude props his surfboard against the wall and squints.
I nod, barely glancing away from the book, determined for it to make sense.
Need help? He tosses his towel on a chair and moves around the desk until hes standing behind me.
If it involves more of this handy dandy code translator you made, I tap the sheet of paper beside me, or anything even resembling your long list of meditations, then no thanks, Ive had all I can take. But if youre finally going to tell me how to read this thing, without assuming the lotus position, picturing beams of white light, and/or making me imagine long, spindly roots growing from the soles of my feet and extending deep into the earth, then yes, by all means, go ahead and try. I slide the book toward him, careful to touch only its edge, catching a quick glimpse of his amused face, that tropical gaze, the spliced brow, before looking away.
He places his hand on the desk and leans toward the book, fingers splayed against the old, pockmarked wood, body so close I can feel the push of his energy merge into my space. Theres another way that might work. Well, for someone with your gifts anyway. But the way you handle that thing, only touching the edges, keeping your distance, its pretty clear youre afraid.
His voice drifts over me, soothing and calm. Prompting me to close my eyes for a moment and allow myself to feel it, really feel it, without trying to stop it or push it away. Eager to prove Damen wrong, report back that I gave it a fair shot and theres not a single trace of tingle or heat to be found. Even though Jude likes melikes me in the same way I like Damen and Damen likes meeven though I saw it in the vision he unwittingly showed me that dayits one-sided. All about him, not the slightest bit reciprocated by me. The only thing Im getting is a decrease in stress and anxiety, a serenity so languid, so relaxed, it soothes my jangled nerves, and
He taps me on the shoulder, yanking me out of my reverie and motioning for me to join him on the small couch in the corner where he balances the book on his knees. Urging me to place my hand on the page, shut my eyes, clear my head, and intuit the message inside.
At first nothing happens, but thats because Im filled with resistance. Still smarting from the last energy slam that practically fried my insides and left me tired and fragmented for the rest of the evening. But the second I decide to let go and give in, to just trust in the process and allow the buzz to flow through me, Im overcome with a barrage of energy thats surprisingly, almost embarrassingly personal.
Getting anything? he asks, voice low, gaze fixed on me.
I shrug, turning to him when I say, Its likeits like reading someones diary. Or at least thats what Im gettingyou?
He nods. Same.
But I thought it would be more likeI dont know, like a book of spells. You know, a different one on each page.
You mean a grimoire. He smiles, displaying two amazing dimples and charmingly crooked front teeth.
I frown, unfamiliar with the word.
Its like a recipe book for spells, containing very specific datadates, times, ritual performed, results of the ritual, that sort of thing. Strictly business, nothing but the facts.
And this? I tap my nail against the page.
More like a journal, as you said. A highly personal account of a witchs progresswhat she did, why she did it, how she felt, the results, et cetera. Which is why theyre often written in code, or Theban like this.
My shoulders droop as I screw my lips to the side, wondering why every bit of progress Im about to make actually results in two giant steps back.
You were looking for something more specific? A love spell perhaps?
I peer at him, eyes narrowed, wondering why he just said that.
Sorry. He shrugs, eyes grazing my face, lingering on my lips for a few seconds too long. Seems like trouble in paradise with the way you and Damen are avoiding each other these days.
I close my eyes for a moment, forcing the sting to retreat. Its been one week. One week without Damenhis sweet telepathic messageshis warm and loving embrace. The only hint that he even exists is the fresh supply of elixir I found in my fridge. An elixir he mustve slipped in while I slept, taking every precaution to get the job done before I could wake. Each passing hour so painful, so agonizing, so lonelyIve no idea how Ill get through the summer without him.
Judes energy shifts, his aura pulling back just as a sensitive shade of blue flickers at the edges. Well, whatever you seek, he says, back to business again. Youll find it in here. He thumps the page with his thumb. You just have to give it some time to take it all in. Its a very detailed account, and the content goes pretty deep.
Whered you find it? I take in the spray of dreadlocks hitting just shy of his lips. And how long have you had it? I add, suddenly needing to know.
He shrugs, averting his gaze. Picked it up somewheresome guy I once knew. He shakes his head. It was a long time ago.
Vague much? I smile, giving a sort of half laugh he fails to return. Seriously. Youre only nineteenhow long ago could it have been? I study him closely, remembering the time I asked the same question of Damenwell before I knew what he was. A sudden chill pricking my skin as I take him in, the crooked teeth, the scar marking his brow, the tangle of dread-locks falling into those familiar green eyesassuring myself hes merely someone I knew from my past, that hes nothing like me.
Guess Im not so big on tracking time, he says, the laugh that follows uncommitted, forced. I try to live in the momentthe now. Still, mustve been fourmaybe five years agowhen I first started getting into this stuff.
And did Lina find it? Is that why you hide it?
He shakes his head, face flushing when he says, As embarrassing as it is to admit, she came across a poppet Id made and completely freaked out. Thought it was a voodoo doll. Misread the whole thing.
Poppet? My gaze fixed on his, having no idea what that is.
A sort of magical doll. He shrugs, embarrassed gaze meeting mine. I was a kid, what can I say? I was misguided enough to think it would convince a certain girl to like me.
And did it? I hold my breath, studying him carefully, wondering why those simple words cause a ping in my gut.
Lina destroyed it before it could work. Just as well. He shrugs. Turns out she was trouble.
Your usual type. The words rushing forward before I can stop them.
He looks at me, eyes glinting. Old habits die hard.
We sit like that, eyes locked, breath halted, the moment growing, stretching, until I finally break away and return to the book.
Id love to help you, he says, voice low and deep. But I get the feeling your journeys too private for me.
I turn, about to speak, when he adds, No worries. I get it. But if its spell casting youre after, there are a few things you should know. His gaze meets mine, making sure he has my full attention before he goes on. One, its a last resortonly to be used when all other avenues are exhausted. And two, spells are really just recipes for change, to get what you want, or alter a certain situation that needsaltering. But in order for it to work, your goals have to be clearyou need to visualize the outcome you want and direct all of your energy toward it.
Like manifesting, I say, wishing I hadnt when I see his gaze change.
Manifesting takes too longmagicks more immediateor at least it can be.
I press my lips together, knowing better than to explain how manifesting can also be instantaneous once you understand how the universe works. But then again, you cant manifest what you dont know, making the antidote, among other things, strictly off limits.
Think of this like a giant cookbook. He taps the page with his nail. One with liner notes. He smiles. But nothing in here is fixed, you can alter the recipes to suit your own needs, and choose your own set of tools accordingly
Tools? I look at him.
Crystals, herbs, elements, candles, phases of the moonthat kind of thing.
I think back on the elixirs I made, just before I went back in time, having thought of it more in terms of alchemy than magick, though I guess in some ways, its pretty much the same thing.
It also helps if you cast your spell in verse.
Like a poem? I look at him, startled. Maybe this isnt going to work after all. I pretty much suck at that kind of thing.
Doesnt have to be Keats, just something that rhymes and has some sort of meaning for what you want it to do.
I frown, feeling disheartened before I even begin.
And, Ever
I look at him.
If youre wanting to cast a spell on a person, you might want to rethink it. Lina was right. If you cant convince someone to see things your way, or cooperate with you, by using more mundane means, theres a pretty good chance its not meant to be.
I nod and look away, knowing that may be true for some situations, but not mine.
Mine is different.
CHAPTER 35
I stopped by your work. Haven studies me closely, gaze moving from my hair, to the black silk cord holding my amulet, just barely visible at the base of my tee, before settling back on my face.
I nod briefly before returning my attention to Honor, watching as she laughs with Stacia and Craig and the rest of the A-list crew as though everything were normalbut its not. Not for her. Shes dipping into magick nowa serious student of the craft, according to Jude. All without her ringleaders consent.
Thought maybe we could grab lunch or something, but the hot guy behind the counter said you were busy. Fingers picking at the frosting on her chai-latte cupcake, gaze never once straying from me.
Miles looks up from his phone, brows merged, eyes darting between us. Excuse me? Theres a hot guy and nobody informed me?
I turn toward them, Havens words just now making an impact. She went to my work! She knows where I work! What else might she know?
Oh, hes hot all right. Haven nods, still looking at me. Muy caliente, for sure. But apparently Evers determined to keep it a secret. Didnt even know he existed til I saw for myself.
Howd you know where I work? I ask, trying to keep it casual, nonchalant, not let on just how alarmed I really am.
The twins told me.
This just went from bad to even worse.
I ran into them at the beach. Damens teaching them to surf.
I smile, but its a feeble one that feels false on my face.
Guess that explains why you didnt tell us about your new jobyou didnt want your best friends moving in on your hottie coworker.
Miles stares at me, abandoning his texting for something far juicier.
Hes my boss. I shake my head. And its not like its a secret or anything, I just havent had a chance to mention it, thats all.
Yes, because our lunchtime chats are so scintillating you just couldnt squeeze it in. Please. Haven rolls her eyes. So not buying it.
Um, hello? Descriptors would be nice about now! Miles leans forward, face eager, eyes darting between us.
But I just shrug, watching as Haven smiles and sets down her cupcake, brushing the crumbs from her black denim lap as she says, Picture the tannest, most aqua-eyed, hot-bodied, rockin the golden dreadlocks, laid-back surfer boy, hottie of the entire McHottie clan that you can even possibly imaginethen times it by ten and thats him.