I look at her, knowing I can just lower my shield, think the answer, and she’d hear the words in my head, but knowing it’ll resonate a lot more if it’s spoken out loud, I say, “I guess because it all came at such a high price—the loss of my family—never getting to cross—” I pause, halting the words from escape. Not quite ready to explain about Summerland, that glorious mystical dimension between the dimensions, or the bridge that takes all mortals to the other side—or at least not just yet anyway. One thing at a time. “It’s just that I’ll always be here. I’ll never get to cross over and see my family again—” I shake my head. “And, well, for me anyway, that feels like a pretty big penalty.”

She reaches toward me, her sad puppy dog look displayed on her face, before quickly pulling away. “Oops, sorry! Forgot how you hate to be touched.” She crinkles her nose as she tucks a windblown chunk of hair behind her multipierced ear.

“I don’t hate to be touched.” I shrug. “It’s just sometimes—well, it can be pretty revealing, that’s all.”

“Will it be like that for me too?”

I look at her, having no idea what gifts she has in store. She’s already so far ahead of the curve, on just one bottle of elixir, who knows what a full case will bring?

“I don’t know.” I shrug. “Some of it happened because I died and went to—”

Her eyes narrow, straining to read my thoughts but not getting very far, thanks to the shield that I built.

“Well, let’s just say I had a near-death experience. It tends to change things.” I pull onto her street.

She looks at me, gaze fixed, intense, fingers idly picking at a small tear in her leggings as she says, “Seems like you’re kind of cherry-picking the things you want me to know.” She raises her brow, daring me to deny it.

But I don’t. I don’t do anything but close my eyes and nod. So tired of lying and covering up all the time. It feels good to admit to a few things for a change.

“Can I ask why?”

I lift my shoulders and take a deep breath, forcing my gaze to meet hers. “It’s a lot to take in all at once. Some of it needs to be experienced to understand—while other stuff—well, a lot of it can wait. Though there are still a couple things you need to know.”

I park on her drive and fumble through my bag, handing over a small silk pouch, just like the one Damen gave me.

“What’s this?” She pulls the strings and digs her finger inside, coming away with a small cluster of colorful stones, held together by thin gold strands, and hanging from a black silk cord.

“It’s an amulet.” I nod “It’s—it’s important you wear it all the time. Pretty much every day from now on.”

She squints, swinging it back and forth, watching as the stones catch and reflect in the sunlight.

“I have one too.” I pull mine out from under my tee, revealing my own cluster of stones.

“How come mine’s different?” She glances between them, comparing, contrasting, trying to decide which is better.

“Because no two are the same—we all have different—needs. And wearing these will keep us safe.”

She looks at me.

“They hold protective qualities.” I shrug, knowing I’m treading into murky waters, the part Damen and I disagreed about.

She tilts her head and scrunches her face, unable to read my thoughts but well aware I’m holding back. “Protect us from what exactly? I mean, we’re immortal, right? Which, if I’m not mistaken, pretty much means we’ll live forever, and yet, you’re telling me I need protection? To be kept safe?” She shakes her head. “Sorry, Ever, but that just doesn’t make any sense. Who or what could I possibly need to be protected from?”

I take a deep breath, assuring myself I’m doing the right thing, the only thing, despite what Damen may think. Hoping he’ll forgive me as I say, “You need to be protected from Roman.”

She shakes her head and crosses her arms, refusing to believe. “Roman? That’s ridiculous. Roman would never hurt me.”

I gape, hardly believing my ears, especially after everything I’ve just told her.

“Sorry, Ever, but Roman’s my friend. And not like it’s any of your business, but we’re actually well on our way to becoming more than friends. And since it’s no secret you’ve hated him from day one, it’s really not all that surprising to hear you saying this now. Sad, but not surprising.”

“I’m not making it up.” I shrug, striving for a calm I can’t even summon. Knowing that raising my voice, trying to force her to see things my way, will never work on someone as stubborn as her. “And yeah, maybe you’re right, maybe I don’t like him, but considering how he tried to kill you and all—well, call me crazy, but I think that’s a good enough reason. I even have witnesses—I wasn’t the only one there, you know!”

She squints, fingernails tapping against the door handle as she says, “Okay, so let me get this straight, Roman tries to poison me with some messed-up tea—”

“Belladonna—also known as deadly nightshade—”

“Whatever.” She waves it away. “The point is, you claim he was trying to kill me, and yet instead of calling nine-one-one you just stroll on over to see for yourself? I mean, what’s up with that? Obviously you didn’t take it very seriously, so why should I?”