Shadowland (Immortals 3) - Page 82

“So why didn’t you? Why’d you call Jude instead of nine-one-one?” I glare at her as I reach for my bag, my phone, remembering too late that I came here without it, manifesting a new one just as Roman storms into the room.

I look past him for Damen, my heart lurching when I don’t find him.

But Roman just laughs, shaking his head as he says, “Moves a bit slower than me. He is older, you know!” Snapping the manifested phone out of my hand when he adds, “Trust me, luv. It’s well beyond that. Seems your friend had herself a very potent cup of belladonna tea—” He motions toward a fine china cup on the table, its contents recently drained. “Also known as deadly nightshade in case you’re not familiar, and she’s so far along, she’s way beyond medical help. No, the only one who can save her now is you.”

I narrow my gaze, unsure what he means, seeing Damen now standing behind him, eyes guarded, troubled, as they look into mine. And I know he’s trying to tell me something, send a telepathic message I can’t seem to grasp. Getting only the faintest echo of sound, but unable to determine the words.

“This is it, Ever.” Roman smiles. “The moment you’ve been waiting for!” He sweeps his arms wide, motioning toward Haven as though she’s the grand prize.

I glance between him and Damen, still trying to receive Damen’s message, but nothing will come.

Roman’s eyes roaming over me, slowly taking me in, my bare feet, damp, clinging dress, wetting his lips as he says, “It’s real simple, darlin’, simple enough for even you to decipher. Remember the day you came to my house and we talked about the price?”

I glance at Damen, catching a flash of alarm, disbelief, hurt, before quickly looking away.

“Oops!” Roman lifts his shoulders and covers his mouth as he glances between us. “Sorry. Forgot your unauthorized visit was our dirty little secret. Guess you’ll just have to forgive my indiscretion, what with the life and death circumstances we’re in. So just to catch you up to speed”—he nods at Ava and Damen—“Ever swung by my house looking to broker a deal. Seems she’s extremely eager to bed her hunky boyfriend.” He laughs, his gaze landing on Damen as he heads behind the bar, reaching for a cut crystal goblet and filling it with elixir as Damen fights to stay calm.

I take a deep breath but stay put. Knowing it won’t make the slightest bit of difference if Roman’s dead or alive, either way he’s still in control. His game. His rules. And I can’t help but wonder how long he’s been at it—how long I’ve been fooling myself that I’m actually making progress when I’m just blindly following along. Just like the vision he showed me at school, all of us are under his rule.

“Ever—” Damen looks at me, telepathy no longer working, forced to voice his thoughts to the room. “Is this true?”

I swallow hard and look away, not looking at either of them when I say, “Just get to the point.”

“Always in such a hurry.” Roman shakes his head and clucks his tongue against his cheek. “Seriously, Ever, for someone with nothing but time, it doesn’t make the slightest bit of sense. But fine, I’ll play, so tell me, any clues, any ideas as to where this all leads?”

I gaze at Haven, barely breathing, barely hanging on, unwilling to admit that I have no idea what he wants, no clue as to what’s going on.

“Remember the day when you came to see me at the store?”

Damen shifts, I can feel his energy shift, but I just shake my head, glancing over my shoulder, eyes narrowed when I say, “I went to see Haven, you just happened to be there.”

“Details.” Roman waves it away. “It’s the riddle I’m getting at. Remember the riddle I presented you with?”

I sigh, grasping Haven’s hand in mine—cold, dry, and still—not a good sign.

“Give the people what they want. Remember when I said that?” He pauses, waiting for me to respond, but when I don’t he adds, “The question is—what does it mean, Ever? Exactly what do the people want? Any clues?” He lifts his brow and waits, nodding when he adds, “Try stepping out of yourself for a moment and take a more populist view. Go ahead, give it a whirl, try it on for size, see how it fits. It’s quite unlike the elitist view you and Damen hold, I assure you of that. No hoarding of the gifts where I stand—I share them freely. Or at least with those I deem deserving.”

I turn, turn until I’m facing him, suddenly beginning to understand. Voice hoarse, barely discernible when I say, “No!”

Glancing between Roman and Haven as the truth of what he wants, the price he insists on, becomes clear.

No!

My gaze locked on Roman’s, as Ava and Damen remain silent, clueless as to what’s truly transpiring here.

“I won’t do it,” I tell him. “There’s no way you can make me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, luv. Where’s the fun in that?” He smiles, slow, lazy, like the Cheshire cat. “Just like you can’t make me do your bidding with pathetic attempts at mind melds and the dark forces you so recently called upon.” He laughs, wagging his finger at me as he adds, “You’ve been a very naughty girl, Ever. Messing with magick you don’t understand. Never realized when I sold the book all those years ago it’d end up in your hands. Or maybe I did?” He shakes his head. “Who’s to say?”

My eyes meet his, the truth of his words hitting me at full speed. Jude. Is he the one who sold the book to Jude? And if so, are they in this together?

“Why are you doing this?” I narrow my gaze. No longer caring that Damen’s now privy to my long list of betrayals, or what Ava’s thinking off in her corner, focusing only on him and me—as though we’re alone in this creepy, Godforsaken room.

“Well, it’s really rather simple.” He smiles. “You’re so set on drawing lines, setting yourself apart—so now’s your chance to really lay it down, now’s your chance to prove you’re nothing like me. And if you succeed, if you can prove beyond a doubt that we’re nothing alike, well then, I’m fully prepared to give you what you want. I’ll hand over the antidote to the antidote, the cure to the cure, and you and Damen can proceed to the honeymoon suite and have at it. It’s what you’ve dreamed of all along, right? It’s what you’ve been scheming for all this time. And all you have to do to get it is to let your friend die. If you let Haven die, the happily ever after is yours, satisfaction guaranteed—more or less.”

“No.” I shake my head. “No!”

“No to the antidote or the happily ever after? Which is it?” He glances between his watch and Haven, smiling as he adds, “Tick-tock, time to decide.”

Tags: Alyson Noel The Immortals Fantasy
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