“Great,” Rayne says, closing her eyes and shaking her head.
Romy standing beside her, frowning as she adds, “During the dark moon, the goddess is absent while the queen of the underworld takes over. So in other words, instead of calling upon the light to work your spell, you asked the dark powers to aid you.”
And to bind Roman to me! I gape, eyes wide, darting between the two of them, wondering if there’s a way to reverse it, quickly, easily, before it’s too late!
“It is too late,” they say, reading my face. “All you can do now is wait for the next moon phase and try to reverse it. If it can be reversed.”
“But—” The word dying on my lips as the enormity of my situation starts to sink in. Remembering Damen’s warning from before, how sometimes when people get involved in witchcraft they get in over their head and wind up taking a much darker path . . .
I gaze at the two of them, unable to speak. Watching Rayne shake her head angrily as her sister looks at me and says, “All you can do now is cleanse yourself and your tools, burn your athame, and hope for the best. And then, if you’re lucky, we’ll let you out of the circle so all the bad energy you’ve conjured can’t escape.”
“If I’m lucky?” I look at them, stomach sinking. Is she serious? Is it really that bad?
Gaze darting between them as Romy says, “Don’t push it. You’ve no idea what you’ve started.”
forty-four
Miles and Holt arrive together, and when they take one look at the decorations, Miles totally flips.
“I don’t even have to go to Florence now that you’ve brought Florence to me!” He hugs me to him, quickly pulling away when he says, “Sorry, I forgot how you hate to be touched.”
But I just shake my head and hug him again, feeling pretty good despite Romy and Rayne standing before me like the Great Wall of Pessimism—all raised brows, folded arms, and twisted lips—while I performed a quick but thorough grounding/protection meditation, picturing strong beams of white light penetrating my skull and flowing through my body, in an attempt to ward
off at least some of the damage they’re convinced that I’ve done.
But the truth is, I don’t see the point. After the initial burst of empowerment, just after the binding spell was completed, everything returned to normal again. The only reason I even went through with their guided meditation is because they were acting so freaked, it was the only way to calm them down. But now I’m thinking it was all just a big misunderstanding—a complete overreaction on their part.
I mean, I’m immortal, gifted with strength and power they can’t even begin to imagine. So while performing a magical ritual during the dark moon may pose danger to them, I seriously doubt it makes the slightest bit of difference for me.
And no sooner have I gotten Miles and Holt their drinks when the bell rings again, and again, and before I know it, my house is filled with pretty much every member from the Hairspray cast and crew.
“Huh, guess he’s not Haven’s date after all, unless they’re arriving separately?” Miles says, nodding toward Jude as he enters the room laughing that good-natured laugh and helping himself to some virgin sangria, before taking off with Holt and leaving us alone together.
“Nice send-off.” Jude nods, gazing around. “Makes me want to go somewhere too.”
I look at him, smiling vaguely, wondering if he notices anything different about me, a change of energy, a new sense of empowerment—
But he just smiles, raising his cup as he says, “Paris.” He takes a sip and nods. “I’ve always wanted to go to Paris. London and Amsterdam too.” He shrugs. “Pretty much any of the great Euro pe an cities would do.”
I swallow hard and try not to gape. Wondering if he somehow knows—if it’s buried deep within his subconscious, trying to surface. I mean, why else would he list all the significant places of our past?
He looks at me, green eyes on mine, holding the moment so long I clear my throat and say, “Huh. And here I had you pegged as the eco-adventure type. You know, Costa Rica, Hawaii, Galapagos—seeker of the perfect wave and all that.” Knowing that laugh at the end did nothing to hide my sudden bout of nervousness, just about to follow with something equally dumb when he looks past my shoulder and says, “Incoming.”
I turn to find Haven, practically dwarfed by the tall, lithe, beautiful girl from the store where she works, on one side, and Roman on the other, while the immortal from the hall today at school walks just behind them. Three gorgeous, auraless, and pretty much soulless, immortal rogues Haven inadvertently invited into my home.
I swallow hard, eyes narrowed on Roman, fingers at my throat, seeking the amulet I chose not to wear, and reminding myself that I no longer need it. I’m in charge now. I summoned him here.
“Figured you’d have plenty of room and food.” Haven smiles, hair newly dyed to the darkest of browns with a platinum streak that curves down the front, having ditched her usual emo look for one that’s even edgier yet vintage—like a post apocalyptic vintage if there is such a thing. And all it takes is one look at the dark beauty beside her, her spiky hair, multi-pierced lobes, delicate lace-corseted dress paired with black leather boots, to know who spawned this latest makeover of hers.
“I’m Misa.” The girl smiles, voice betraying the faintest trace of an accent that’s unrecognizable to me. Her hand reaching for mine as I brace for the chill, the familiar jolt of ice water swarming my veins confirming my suspicion, though failing to tell me if she’s one of the orphans, or more recently turned.
“And of course you know Roman.” Haven smiles, lifting her hand so I can see it entwined with his.
But I refuse to react. Refuse to give anything away. I just nod and smile, as though it doesn’t bother me at all.
Because it doesn’t.
It’s just a matter of time now ’til Roman’s handing over the cure and doing my bidding. That’s the only reason he’s here.