Night Star Page 18


I lift my shoulders and clasp my hands before me as though we’re just two good friends enjoying a nice friendly chat. “You can deny it all you want, but it still doesn’t change the truth. He told me that night, told me all about it. He was feeling hemmed in, suffocated, said he needed to get away from it all. Go someplace bigger, more exciting—someplace where he could be free from the store, Misa, Rafe, Marco, oh, and of course,you .”

She plants her hands on her hips, struggling to appear strong, tough, completely impenetrable, but her body tells otherwise, betraying her with the slightest bit of tremble.

“Oh, okay, sure.” She scowls, drumming her hips with her thumbs and rolling her eyes dramatically. “So I’m just supposed to believe that Roman would choose to confess all of that toyou , and yet totally fail to mention it to me, the person he was sleeping with? I mean, seriously Ever, this is totally pathetic and ridiculous—even for you.”

But I just shrug, sure that it’s working, that my words are getting to her. Looking her over, studying her closely, knowing I may be overstating it, embellishing a few bits here and there, but the gist is the same.

He was planning to ditch her, and yet she’s hell-bent on destroying Jude and me in his name.

“He knew you’d make a big scene if he told you, and you know how he hated that kind of thing. No one’s saying he didn’t like you, Haven, heck, I’m sure he liked you just fine. If nothing else, you were a pleasant enough way to pass the time. But make no mistake, Romandidn’t love you. Henever loved you.

You even said so yourself. You remember when you said how in every relationship there’s always one who loves more than the other—isn’t that what you claimed? And then you even went on to admit that in your case it was you. That you loved Roman and he didn’t love you. But it’s not like it’s your fault or anything. So don’t take it too hard, or beat yourself up. Because the thing is, Roman was completely incapable of lovinganyone, having never experienced it for himself. The closest he ever came to it were his feelings for Drina. But even still, that wasn’t love. It was more like obsession. She was pretty much all he could think about. Remember hisdark drags as you used to call them? The times when he’d lock himself in his room for hours on end? You know what he was doing? He was trying to reconnect with her soul, so he wouldn’t feel so alone in the world. She’s the only other person he ever really cared about in all of his six hundred years. Which, I’m sorry to say, pretty much reduces you to little more than yet another notch on his belt.”

She’s quiet, so quiet I start to feel bad, wondering if I’ve taken it too far, yet still driving the point when I say, “You’re vowing revenge for the loss of a guy who was planning to ditch you at the first opportunity.”

She glares, eyes narrowed to where I can just barely see them, brows merging together as the sapphire that marks her forehead emits a dark, eerie glow. And the next thing I know, all the faucets are gushing, the soap dispensers are pumping, the toilets are flushing, the hand dryers are blasting, while reams of toilet paper go sailing through the room and bouncing off the walls.

And even though it’s clear that she’s making it happen, there’s no way of telling whether it was intended or was the result of the out-of-control anger I’ve triggered.

But either way, it doesn’t deter me. Now that I know that it’s working, I have no choice but to continue.

I move along the row of sinks, calmly shutting each of the taps as I say, “It just doesn’t make any sense—this whole revenge thing. Your big romance with Roman was nothing more than—well, as he would put it,a couple of mediocre shags, mate .” I look at her, indulging a small smile at my spot-on British accent. “So why waste your time on avenging a past that never really was, when you’ve got the future of your making all stretched out right before you?”

But I’ve barely had a chance to finish before she’s on me.

Right on me.

Slamming me all the way across the room and into the pink tiled wall. Bashing my head against it so hard the awful dullthud of it echoes throughout the room, as a trail of warm blood drips its way from the gash where it cracked all the way down to my dress.

I stagger, lurch forward, only to fall back again. Reeling from side to side, struggling to regain my focus, my balance, but I’m so shaken, so woozy, so unsteady, I can’t fight the fingers that push into my shoulders and pin me in place.

Her face hovering just inches from mine when she says, “Make no mistake, Ever, I’m not vowing revenge justfor Roman—I’m vowing revengeagainst you.” Her eyes bore into me, shooting me a look so hateful I can’t help but turn away and close mine against it. Aware of the bite of her chilled breath on my cheek, her lips at the edge of my ear, as she takes a moment to rest against me and savor her victory.

The fixtures settling, the toilets calming, the dryers halting, as piles of soap seep slowly across the floor and into the grout, her voice a gruff, raspy whisper just inches away. “You’ve ripped away everything that’s ever meant anything to me. You’re also the one who made me this way. So if anyone’s to blame here, it’syou .You made me what I am. And nowyou decide thatyou don’t like what you see andyou’re determined to stop me?” She leans back to better observe me, allowing her fingers to creep dangerously close to the amulet that hangs from my neck. “Well, too bad.” She laughs, flicking the stones with her fingers and setting my whole body on edge.

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