Night Star Page 9
Mostly because it’s pretty much the only part of my totally bizarre life that’s even the slightest bit normal.
And no matter how bored Damen may get, no matter how often he begs me to just blow it all off so we can go start our lives instead, I won’t do it. Can’t do it. For some strange reason, I just really want us to graduate.
I want to hold that diploma in my hand and toss my cap in the air.
And today we’re taking the first step toward that end.
I smile and nod and urge him to continue, seeing a flash of unease cloud his face, and returning the look with a newfound confidence and strength. Straightening my shoulders and scraping my hair into a ponytail that sits low on my neck, smoothing the wrinkles from my dress and preparing for the battle ahead.
Even though I’m not sure what’s coming or exactly what to expect, even though I can’t see into my own future as easily as I can everyone else’s, if there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that Haven still blames me for Roman’s death.
Still blames me foreverything that’s gone wrong in her life.
And has every intention of making good on her promise to ruin me.
“Trust me, I’mmore than ready.” I gaze out the side window, scanning the crowd for my former best friend, knowing it’s just a matter of time before she’ll make the first move, and hoping I’ll have a chance to turn it around before we both do something we’ll no doubt regret.
Chapter 4
It isn’t until lunch that we see her.
Everyone sees her.
She’s impossible to miss.
Like an unexpected swirl of icy blue frost—like an intricate icicle edged in sharp curves—she’s as enticing, exotic, and startling as a surprise wintry chill on a hot summer day.
A large group of students swarm all around her—the very same people who looked past her before.
But there’s no missing her now.
No missing her unearthly beauty, her irresistible lure.
She’s not the same Haven she used to be. She’s entirely different. Transformed.
Where she used to fade, she now glistens.
Where once she repelled, she attracts.
And what I used to think of as her standard black leather and lace, rock ’n’ roll gypsy look, has been swapped for a sort of languorous, mesmerizing, slightly morbid glamour. Like an arctic version of a dark, mournful bride, she’s dressed in a long body-skimming gown with a deep V in front, long floaty sleeves, and layer upon layer of soft, silky blue fabric that drags behind her, sweeping the ground, while her neck practically sags with the weight of jewels she’s layered upon it—a combination of glossy Tahitian pearls, glittery cabochon sapphires, large roughly cut chunks of turquoise, and highly polished clusters of aquamarine, with long, jet black hair that hangs in glossy, loose waves trailing all the way down to her waist. The platinum streak that once marked her bangs now dyed the same deep shade of cobalt that graces her nails, lines her eyes, and glistens in the jewel that marks the space just above and between her finely arched brows.
A look the old Haven could’ve never pulled off; she would’ve been laughed out of school before the first bell could ring—but not anymore.
I mumble under my breath, as Damen reaches for me. His fingers grasping mine in what’s meant to be a reassuring squeeze, but we’re just as entranced as everyone else in this school. Unable to tear our eyes away from the sheen of her ultra pale skin, the way it gleams in a sea of black and blue. Resulting in an oddly fragile, ethereal look—like a freshly made bruise—completely belying the determination within.
“The amulet,” Damen whispers, gaze briefly meeting mine, before returning to her. “She’s not wearing it, it’s…gone.”
My eyes instantly locate her neck, searching through the complicated tangle of dark, shining jewelry, only to see that he’s right. The amulet we gave her, the one that was meant to keep her safe from harm, safe fromme , is no longer there. And I know it’s no accident, nothing of the kind. It’s a message meant for me. One that’s intended to scream loud and clear:
I don’t need you. I’ve outgrown you. I’ve transcended you completely.
Having risen to a pinnacle of power of her very own making, she’s now in a place where she no longer fears me.
Despite the fact that her aura is no longer visible, hasn’t been since the night I had her drink from the elixir that turned her immortal like me, it’s not like she needs one for me tosense what she’s thinking.
Toknow how she’s feeling.
Her grief over Roman, combined with her rage toward me, is what spawned this whole thing. She’s completely guided, completelyredefined , by an overwhelming sense of anger and loss, and is now seeking revenge on every single person who’s ever once done her wrong.
Beginning with me.
Damen stops in his tracks and pulls me close to his side, allowing me one last chance to cry uncle and bail on this scene, but I won’t.Can’t . While I’m fully committed to letting her make the first move, the second she does I’ll have absolutely no problem reminding her just who’s in charge around here. It’s what I’ve been training for. And while she may feel confident and sure of herself now, I happen to know something she doesn’t:
She may feel strong, empowered, and completely invincible—but her powers can’t even begin to touch mine.
Damen shoots me a worried glance, aware of the pierce of her gaze, little arrows of hate aimed straight at me. But I just shrug and keep moving, leading him toward our usual table, the one she surely thinks is beneath her, knowing that the hateful looks are just the beginning, something we’d better get used to if we’ve any hope of surviving the year.