Dark Flame (Immortals 4) - Page 46

He nods, setting his drink on the gold-beaded coaster. “Still, I’d love to hear you say it. Love to hear the words spoken out loud—from your lips to my ears.”

I take a deep breath, take in his heavy-lidded gaze, wide inviting lips, and broad expanse of chest, my gaze lured down to his abs, and lower still, when I say, “The antidote.” Pushing the words past my lips, wondering if he has any idea of the battle waging inside me. “I want the antidote,” I repeat, firmer this time. Adding, “As you well know.”

And before I can stop it, he’s standing beside me. Face composed, hands relaxed, hanging loose at his sides. The chill of his skin emanating over me in a wave of cool, sweet relief when he says, “I want you to know that I brought you here with the purest intentions. After seeing the way you’ve suffered over these past few months, I’m fully prepared to call it off and give you what you want. And even though it’s been a good bit of fun, or at least it has for me anyway.” He shrugs. “Much like you, Ever, I’m ready to move on. Back to London, that is. This town’s too laid back for my tastes, I require a bit more action than this.”

“You’re leaving?” I blurt, the words coming so quickly I’m not sure who’s responsible for voicing them.

“Does that upset you?” He smiles, gaze searching my face.

“Hardly.” I scowl, rolling my eyes and averting my gaze, hoping to distract him from the tremor in my voice.

“I’ll try not to take that personally.” He smiles, Ouroboros tattoo flashing in and out of view, its beady eyes seeking mine as its tongue slithers about. “But before I go, I thought I’d tie up a few loose ends, and seeing as it’s your birthday and all, I thought I’d start with you. Give you the gift you want most. The one thing you want more than anything else in the world, that no other person, living or dead, could ever give you—” He trails his finger down my arm, lightly, quickly, the memory of it lingering long after he’s turned away and moved on.

I stare at his retreating back, knowing I can’t afford this, can’t afford to slip up. Reminding myself of the magical feel of Damen’s lips just a few hours before, and how very close I am to reclaiming that—but only if I can keep myself in check.

Roman turns, finger beckoning for me to follow and tsking at my resistance when he says, “Trust me, luv, I’ve no plans to trick you or drag you off to my chambers.” He shakes his head and laughs. “There’ll be plenty of time for that later, if that’s what you choose. But for now, I’ve got something a little more technical planned. And speaking of, have you ever taken a lie detector test?”

I narrow my gaze, having no idea what he’s getting at but sure it’s a trap. Eyes on his back as he leads me down the hall, through the kitchen, and out the back door, all the way past the hot tub perched off the side of the porch, and over to a room, like a converted detached garage that, upon entering, seems equal parts antiquities storehouse and mad-scientist lab.

“I hate to say it, luv, and believe me, I mean absolutely no offense, but you have been known to lie on occasion—mostly on the occasions when it benefits you. And since I’m a man of integrity, since I promised to give you the one thing you truly want more than anything else in the world, I feel it’s only right that we’re both completely clear on just what that is. There’s clearly something odd going on between you and me. Do I really need to remind you of how you threw yourself at me the last time you were here?”

“It’s not—” I start, not getting very far before he holds up his hand.

“Please.” He smirks. “Spare me the excuses, luv. I have a much more direct way of getting the answers I seek.”

I press my lips into a frown, having seen enough TV crime shows to recognize the contraption he’s leading me toward. Fully expecting me to strap myself in and consent to a polygraph test I’ve no doubt he’s rigged.

“Forget it,” I say, spinning on my heel, ready to leave. “You’re just gonna have to take me at my word, or the deal’s off.”

Having just reached the door when he says, “Well, there is something else we can try.”

I stop.

“And trust me, there’s no way to rig this one, especially for people like

us. And as it just so happens, it fits right in with all of that metaphysical everything is energy and joined as one crap you’re so enamored of.”

I sigh loudly, audibly, tapping my foot against the floor, hoping to release some of this energy building inside me, as well as clue him in to just how impatient I’m getting.

But Roman’s not about to be hurried, or rushed, or operate on any sort of schedule other than his own. His fingers absently picking at a loose thread on his jacket as he looks me over and says, “You see, Ever, the thing is, it’s been scientifically proven that the truth is always, always stronger than a lie. That if you were to measure the two side by side—pit one against the other, so to speak—the truth would always be the victor. What do you think?”

I roll my eyes, the act alone signaling what I think of that and just about everything else that’s taken place up to this point.

But Roman’s unmoved, determined to play it his way when he says, “And as it just so happens, there’s a very easy way in which to test this—one that cannot be rigged and requires nothing more than your own physiology. Care to try?”

Uh, not really! I start to say, want to say, but the monster is rising and won’t let me speak, which only encourages Roman to continue.

“Now, would you or would you not say that we’re both of equal strength? That among our kind there are no real physical differences in terms of strength and speed between men and women?”

I shrug, never having really thought about it either way and not really interested in starting now.

“So, with that in mind, I’d like to demonstrate something I think you’ll find quite interesting. And, on a side note, I assure you I’m not trying to play you, it’s not a game, and no one gets hurt. I’m sincere about giving you the thing you want most, and this is the best way I can think of to determine what that is. I’ll even go first, so you can see I have no tricks up my sleeve—so to speak.”

He stands before me, arm raised to his side, parallel to the concrete floor. Nodding as he says, “Now go ahead, place your two fingers on my arm and give it a little push downward as I resist and push up. Nothing funny here, I promise. You’ll see.”

My eyes meet his, seeing the challenge in his gaze and knowing I have no choice but to go forward and meet it, since he alone holds the key. I have to play the game, his rules, his way.

I stare at his arm hovering before me, tanned, strong, begging to be touched. And even though I know I can’t do it, can’t contain it, still, I clench my teeth and try. Pressing my fingers against it, the chill of his skin emanating through the soft, silky fabric of his sleeve, causing the dark flame inside me to spark and blaze.

Tags: Alyson Noel The Immortals Fantasy
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