“And if that didn’t convince you, then maybe this will. Though I have to warn you, I’m going to pull out all the stops to prove to you I’m not lying, I’m not crazy, and I’m not some attention-starved phony. I’m going to show you exactly what I’m capable of, which is something I probably should’ve done long before. And the only reason I didn’t is because neither of us was quite ready. But now we are. Or at least I am, and I’m pretty sure you are too. And as for Munoz”—I switch my gaze to him—“he already knows. In fact, he’s known for some time.”

Sabine turns to Munoz, her eyes imploring. But he just takes a deep breath and nods, directing her attention back to me when he says, “It’s true. Sabine, honey, Ever’s not lying. She possesses powers that are nothing short of astonishing. All I ask is that you give her a chance. Just try to watch and listen with an open mind, and I think you’ll be amazed at what you see. And if not, if you still choose not to believe…” He looks at her, clearly hoping that won’t be the case. “Well, then, that’s your choice. But for now, why not just try to broaden your world to a whole new set of ideas you may have never considered.”

She crosses her arms and legs, which, as far as body language goes, is a pretty discouraging display. Her eyes warily focused on me, when I say, “For starters, what was I wearing when you opened the door?” She squints, her eyes moving over me, engaged in a full inspection, and when she refuses to answer, when she just wraps herself up even tighter, I say, “Is it the same thing I’m wearing now?”

She shifts, squirms, but refuses to reply, which as far as I’m concerned is answer enough.

“Or was it this?” I manifest the filthy clothes I was wearing when I first got here, the sight of which garners no response from her. “Or maybe it was this?” I manifest a dark green silk gown just like the one I wear in the pavilion when Damen and I revisit scenes from my London life, back when I was the spoiled little rich girl named Chloe. Choosing to remain like that, sitting before her in a bright and shiny display of centuries-old finery. Willing her to say something, anything, but she won’t. She’s completely unwilling to budge from the ideas she’s clung to for so long.

“My powers aren’t just relegated to rapid wardrobe changes,” I say. “I can manifest an elephant just as easily.” Then I close my eyes and do just that. Choking back a laugh when I see just how much effort she puts into maintaining her cool. So completely dedicated to her rigid set of views, she refuses to react in any way whatsoever when an elephant appears right beside her and swings his trunk in her face. “I can manifest flowers as well,” I add, covering the coffee table with a huge pile of bright yellow daffodils. “I can also manifest jewels.” I close my eyes and when I open them again Sabine is dripping in diamonds and rubies and emeralds and yet, all it does is make her even more stone-faced. “I can even manifest cars and boats and houses and, well, basically whatever you can imagine.

Virtually nothing is off-limits—well, except for people. You can’t manifest a person because you can’t manifest a soul—though you can manifest their image as I once did with Orlando Bloom.” I smile briefly at the memory and Damen’s reaction that followed when he saw what I’d done. “But what I can’t manifest, no matter how hard I try, is your willingness to stop denying what you see right in front of you.

That’s called free will, and it belongs only to you.”

She tilts her chin and narrows her eyes, looking angry, defiant, though her voice easily betrays the fear that’s behind it. “I don’t know what you’re up to, Ever, but you need to stop! You need to stop with the…” She looks around, searches for the right word. “You need to stop with the magic tricks, now!”

Her demeanor so shaken, so stricken, I’m quick to comply. Nodding and blinking until every last trace of it’s gone—until it’s all returned to normal again, including my clothes, which are back to the far more comfortable, though far less impressive blue dress and beige sandals.

My eyes meet hers, and I can’t help but think this is going even worse than I’d thought. Still, I refuse to give up. I can’t allow myself to stop now when I still have a few more tricks up my sleeve.

“There’s more.” I nod, instantly manifesting a jewel-handled knife I position right over my flattened, raised palm. “I know you’re squeamish, I know how you hate the sight of blood, but I promise it’ll be over soon.”

I jab the tip into the center of my palm, and drag the sharp blade all the way across. Hearing the gasp Sabine is unable to stifle, and seeing her horrified face as she watches the blood pouring out of me—the way it splashes over my dress and pools onto the carpet—until—until—it no longer is.

The knife is gone.

My palm is healed.

And there’s absolutely no sign of the blood I just shed.

And even though it was a pretty impressive display, I have to admit I’m starting to feel a little ashamed, starting to feel like the world’s creepiest circus act.

“Listen.” I glance back and forth between her and Munoz, who’s not even trying to hide his shock over what he just saw. “I could go on for hours. I could show you every trick that I’m capable of. And I will, if that’s what it takes. But really, all you need to know is that everything you just saw is real. And though it may make you uncomfortable, while it may make you long to turn your back and pretend you didn’t see it, that won’t stop it from being real. I’m sorry, Sabine. I’m sorry to have to do this to you. And while I get that it’s your choice whether or not you choose to believe, and while I get that there’s a good chance that no matter what I do I won’t be able to change your mind, here’s the thing: Whether or not you choose to believe is entirely up to you—but if you ever want to see me again, if you want to have any kind of a relationship with me, then you’re going to have to move past your own deeply rooted prejudices and learn to accept me. All of me. Even the parts you don’t like. Even the parts that scare you. Because that’s exactly what I’ve chosen to do with you. Your tendency toward self-righteousness and bull headedness, your penchant for shunning me instead of trying to understand me, well, it scares me just as much as my display of immortal party tricks just scared you. Yet I still prefer to accept you as you are, rather than face a future of never seeing you again. I guess I was just hoping that by doing all this, we could find a place to meet in the middle.