I sit beside him, hollow-eyed, zit-faced, twitchy and edgy, barely able to contain myself, barely holding it together as he makes a long verbal list of concerns. How I haven’t been myself lately, how I don’t even look like myself anymore, how much I’ve changed in every way, shape, and form—not one of these changes for the better.

But the truth is, the words sail right over me, like a vague and distant hum. I’m going to Summerland, with or without him, there’s really no choice in the matter.

“Are you drinking your elixir? Do you need a new supply? Ever, please, talk to me—what’s going on?”

I close my eyes and shake my head, blinking back the threat of tears, unable to explain that I can’t stop this runaway train. I’m no longer the conductor in charge of this thing.

He narrows his gaze, making one last attempt to reach me telepathically, but it’s no use. I couldn’t guess the message if I tried. My system is fried.

“You can’t even hear me anymore, can you?”

He stops at a lighted crosswalk and reaches toward me again, but if nothing else I’m still light on my feet and quickly jump out of the car. My arms wrapped so tightly around me they’re about to go numb. My fingers twitching, body thrumming, knowing if I don’t get out of here quick, I’ll have no choice but to go find him. Roman. No choice at all.

“Listen,” I say, voice tremulous, completely unsteady, but knowing I need to get this settled either way, I’m down to the wire, I’ve no time to waste. “I’ll explain when we get there—I swear. Just—it has to be there—not here. So—you coming or not?” I clench my jaw and grit my teeth, trying to keep them from chattering, keep my lips from trembling in a way he can’t miss.

He swallows hard, brow slanted, eyes saddened, the word requiring a great deal of effort when he says, “Not,” so quietly I almost missed it. Then repeating it again when he adds, “I’d much rather stay here and get you some help.”

I look at him, look at him for as long as I can stand, which, truth be told, isn’t long at all. Wanting so badly to climb back into his nice warm car and hug him in the way that I used to, to feel his arms wrapped around me, to be soothed by his tingle and heat, and confess all my sins ’til they’re washed away clean. But unfortunately that sentiment comes from the smallest part of me—the small glimmer of sanity that’s quickly crushed by the part that prefers its fruit dirty, evil, and the more forbidden the better.

So, instead, I just nod, seeing his look of astonishment as I close my eyes and picture the portal—that glorious, shimmering portal. Stepping right through as I say, “Oh well, guess I’ll go it alone then.”

fourteen

I land on my butt. Crash-land smack dab in front of the replica of that beautiful eighteenth-century palace where French royalty lived. But I don’t go inside. Even though I begged to come to this very place, I can’t bear to enter without Damen. It’s our place. A place we share. A place where some of my fondest memories live. And there’s no way I’ll go there without him.

I get to my feet and brush myself off, glancing around as I try to get my bearings and determine my whereabouts. Knowing I could just imagine a destination and find myself magically there, but I’d rather walk, stroll at my leisure and take my sweet time. Enjoy the fact that I’m freed from the beast—even though it’s probably just coiled up somewhere, just biding its time ’til I leave. But for now I’m determined to enjoy some relief.

I raise my hands before me, waving them through the shimmering mist, the hazy glow that originates from everywhere and nowhere. Soothed by the comfortably cool air that wafts over my skin, trusting I’ll eventually end up somewhere great—somewhere I really want to be. That’s the beauty of Summerland—all roads lead to good.

Stopping to pause by the rainbow-colored stream that cuts through the vast fragrant field, I quickly manifest a small handheld mirror to check out my appearance. Relieved to see my eyes now returned to their normal bright blue, my hair back to a shining, lustrous shade of light golden blond, and my skin—my skin is virtually poreless and clear, while the circles that lived under my eyes are now gone. And I wish Damen could see me like this—looking like the old me—the me I used to be. Saddened to think his last memory is of that monstrous creation—the beast of my making. If he’d only agreed to come, I could’ve explained everything.

I wander through the field of shivering trees and pulsating flowers, the scent of those vibrant petals following me until I stumble upon the familiar paved road that leads into town and the Great Halls of Learning, where I decide to try my luck once again. And even though it was no help at all the last time I was there, it’s a new day, a new, regenerated me, and I’ve got every reason to believe this time will be different.

I make my way past a collection of trendy boutiques, a movie theater, and a hair salon, crossing the street just in front of the art gallery, and passing a guy hawking candles, flowers, and small wooden toys, as I make my way through mobs of people all going about their business, an interesting mixture of the living and dead. Turning onto the empty alleyway that leads to the quiet boulevard that brings me to the steep swath of stairs I quickly scale. My gaze fixed on those impressive front doors, knowing there’s still one more step that must be completed.

I stand before the Great Halls, taking in its elaborate carvings, imposing columns, and grand sloping roof—gazing upon a temple constructed purely of love, knowledge, and everything good. Anticipating the usual flicker of images, the Parthenon morphing into the Taj Mahal into the Lotus Temple into the great pyramids of Giza and so on—all the world’s most beautiful and sacred places seamlessly blending, reshaping, and reforming from one to the next—but it doesn’t come. I don’t see anything. Nothing but the impressive marble building that stands proud before me—the images required for entry, invisible to me.