Are you seriously going to try and break in? I gulp, palms damp, heart clattering against my chest, hoping hes joking even though he clearly is not.
No, he whispers, closing his eyes and urging me to close mine. Im not going to try, Im going to succeed. And if you dont mind, you could really help this along by closing your eyes and following my lead. Leaning even closer, lips at my ear when he adds, And I promise, no one gets caught, hurt, or jailed. Really. Cross my heart.
I peer at him, assuring myself that someone whos lived for six hundred years has survived his share of scrapes. Then I take a deep breath and plunge in. Copying the series of steps he envisions until the doors spring open, the sensors turn off, and the guards all fall into a long deep sleep. Or at least I hope its long and deep. Long and deep would be good.
Ready? He looks at me, lips curving into a grin.
I hesitate, hands shaking, eyes darting, thinking that rut we were in is starting to look pretty good. Then I swallow hard and step in, cringing when my rubber sole meets the polished stone floor, resulting in the most high-pitched, screechy, cringe-worthy sound.
What do you think? he says, face eager, excited, hoping Im enjoying myself as much as he. I considered taking you to Summerland, but then I figured thats exactly what youd expect. So I decided to show you the magick of staying right here on the earth plane instead.
I nod, still about as far from excited as it gets but trying to hide it. Scoping out the ginormous room with its tall ceilings, glass windows, and plethora of corridors and halls that probably make it incredibly bright and welcoming in the daytime, but kind of creepy at night. This place is huge. Have you been here before?
He nods, heading for the round info desk in the center. Once. Right before it officially opened. And though I know theres lots of important works to see, theres one exhibit in particular Im extremely interested in.
He swipes a guest guide off the stand, pressing his palm to the front until the desired location appears in his head. Then dropping it back in its slot, he leads me down a series of halls and up a few stairs, our path lit only by a series of security lights and the glint of the moon shining in through the windows.
Is this it? I ask, watching as he stands before a luminous painting titled Madonna Enthroned with St. Matthew, body still with awe, expression transformed to one of pure bliss.
He nods, unable to speak as he takes it all in, struggling to compose himself before turning to me. Ive traveled a lot. Lived in so many places. But when I finally left Italy just over four centuries ago, I swore Id never return. The Renaissance was over, and my lifewellI was more than ready to move on. But then I heard about this new school of painters, the Carracci family in Bologna, whod learned their craft from the masters, including my dear friend Raphael. They started a new way of painting, influencing the next generation of artists. He motions to the painting before us, face filled with wonder as he softly shakes his head. Just look at the softnessthe textures! The intensity of color and light! Its just He shakes his head. Its just brilliant! he says, voice tinged with reverence.
I glance between the painting and him, wishing I could see it in the same way as he. Not as some old, priceless, highly regarded picture hanging before me, but as a true thing of beauty, an object of glory, a miracle of sorts.
He leads me to the next one, our hands grasped together as we marvel at a painting of Saint Sebastian, his poor, pale body pierced with arrowsall of it appearing so real I actually flinch.
And thats when I get it. For the first time ever, I can see what Damen sees. Finally understanding that the true journey of all great art is in taking an isolated experience and not just preserving it, or interpreting it, but sharing it for all time.
You must feel so I shake my head and press my lips together, searching for just the right word. I dont knowpowerfulI guess. To be able to create something as beautiful as this. I peer at him, knowing he can easily create a work with as much beauty and meaning as those that hang here.
But he just shrugs, moving on to the next one as he says, Other than our art class at school, I havent painted in years. I guess Im more of an appreciator than a creator now.
But why? Why would you turn your back on a gift like that? I mean, it is a gift, right? Theres no way it can be an immortal thing since weve all seen what happens when I try to paint.
He smiles, leading me across the room and stopping before a magnificent rendition called Joseph and Potiphars Wife. Gaze searching every square inch of the canvas when he says, Honestly? Powerful doesnt even begin to describe how I feel with a brush in my hand, a blank canvas before me, and a full palette of paint by my side. For six hundred years Ive been invincible, heir to the elixir sought by all men! He shakes his head. And yet nothing can rival the incredible rush the act of creation brings. Of crafting something you just know is destined to be great for all time.
He turns toward me, hand at my cheek. Or at least thats what I believed up until I saw you. Because seeing you for the very first time He shakes his head, eyes gazing into mine. Nothing can ever compare with that very first glimpse of our love.
You didnt stop painting for medid you? I hold my breath, hoping I wasnt the cause of his artistic demise.
He shakes his head, gaze returning to the painting before him as his thoughts travel a long way away. It had nothing to do with you. Its justwellat some point, the reality of my situation set in.
I squint, having no idea what that means, or what he could possibly be getting at.
A cruel reality I probably shouldve shared with you before. He sighs, looking at me.
I gaze at him, stomach filling with dread, unsure I want to hear the answer when I ask, What do you mean? Sensing from the look in his eyes just how much hes struggling with this.
The reality of living forever, he says, eyes dark, sad, focused on mine. A reality that seems incredibly vast and infinite and powerful, with no limits in sightuntil you realize the truth lurking behind itthe truth of watching your friends all wither and die while you stay the same. Only youre forced to watch it from afar, because once the inequity becomes obvious, youve no choice but to move on, to go somewhere new and start over again. And again. And again. He shakes his head. All of which makes it impossible to forge any real bonds. And the ironic thing is, despite our unlimited access to powers and magick, the temptation to make a big impact or effect any real change is something that must be avoided at all costs. Its the only way to remain hidden, with our secrets intact.
Because I coax, wishing hed stop being so cryptic and just get to the point. He makes me so nervous when he starts talking like this.
Because drawing that kind of attention guarantees that your name and likeness will be recorded in history, something of which we must work to avoid. Because while everyone around you will grow old and die, Haven, Miles, Sabine, and yes, even Stacia, Honor, and Craigyou and I will stay exactly the same, completely unchanged. And, trust me, it doesnt take long before people start to notice how you havent changed a bit since the day you first met. We cant run the risk of being recognized fifty years from now by a nearly seventy-year-old Haven. Cant afford the risk of having our secret revealed.
He grabs hold of my wrists, gazing at me with such intensity I actually feel the weight of his six hundred years. And, like always, when hes troubled like this, my only wish is to whisk it away.
Can you even begin to imagine if Sabine, or Haven, or Miles discovered the truth about us? Can you imagine what theyd think, what theyd say, what theyd do? Thats why people like Roman and Drina are so dangerousthey flaunt what they are, completely ignoring the natural order of things. Make no mistake, Ever, the cycle of life is there for a reason. And while I may have scoffed at that in my youth, feeling quite full of myself for rising above it, I no longer do. Besides, in the end, theres really no fighting it. Whether you reincarnate like our friends, or remain the same like us, your karma will always catch up. And now that Ive experienced the Shadowland, Im even more convinced that life as nature intended it, is the one and only way.
Butif thats what you believethen where does that leave us? I ask, a chill blanketing my skin, despite the warmth of his hands. I mean, to hear you say it, we should lay low, and just live for ourselves, rather than using our incredible powers for any real change. And how can that possibly help your karma if you dont use your gifts to help others? Especially if you do so anonymously? Thinking of Haven and my hopes of helping her.
But before I can finish, Damens already shaking his head, looking at me when he says, Where does that leave us? Exactly where we are. He shrugs. Together. Forever. As long as were very, very careful and continue to wear our amulets, that is. And as for using our powers? Well, Im afraid its much more complicated than simply righting all wrongs. While we may judge things as good or bad, karma doesnt. Its a simple case of like gets like, the ultimate balancing act, nothing more, nothing less. And if youre determined to fix every situation you deem as bad, or difficult, or somehow unsavory, then you rob the person of their own chance to fix it, learn from it, or even grow from it. Some things, no matter how painful, happen for a reason. A reason you or I may not be able to grasp at first sight, not without knowing a persons entire life storytheir cumulative past. And to just barge in and interfere, no matter how well-intentioned, would be akin to robbing them of their journey. Something thats better not done.
So let me get this straight. An edge creeping into my voice I dont try to hide. Haven comes to me and says, my cat is dying. And even though Im pretty sure I can fix it, I dont because it would result in too many questions I could never explain and draw undue suspicion. Fine, I get it. I dont like it, but I get it. But when she says, my parents might be divorcing, I might have to move, and it feels like my entire world is caving intelling me this with no inkling whatsoever that Im in the perfect position to help her, to maybe even reverse some of those things byI dont know. I shrug, feeling totally frustrated now. But anyway, my point is, something like that happens to our good friend and youre telling me we cant help? Because it would mess with her journey, or her karma, or whatever it is that you said? I mean, explain to me how that helps my karma by keeping the goods to myself.
I advise you to not get involved, he says, turning back toward the painting and away from me. Havens parents will continue to fight no matter what you do, and even if you miraculously paid off her house, thinking you could save ithe looks over his shoulder, giving me a pointed look, sensing thats exactly what I planned to dowell, theyd probably end up selling it so they could split the proceeds and end up moving anyway. He sighs, voice softening when he looks at me and adds, Im sorry, Ever. I dont mean to sound like some jaded old man, but maybe I am. Ive seen far too much and made so many mistakesyouve no idea how long it took me to learn all these things. But there really is a season for everythingjust like they say. And while our season may be eternal, we can never let on.
And yet, how many famous artists painted your portrait? How many gifts did you receive from Marie Antoinette? I shake my head. Im sure those portraits lived on! Im sure someone kept a journal and put your name in it! And what about your modeling days in New York? What about that?
I dont deny any of it. He shrugs. I was vain, full of myself, a textbook narcissistand boy did I have fun. He laughs, face transforming into the one I know and love, the sexy Damen, the fun Damen, so opposite of this forebearer of doom. But youve got to understand, those portraits were all privately commissioned, even back then I knew better than to allow them to be publicly displayed. And as for the modeling, it was just a few pictures for a small-time ad campaign. I quit the next day.
So why did you stop painting? I mean, it seems like a great way to record an unnaturally long life. My head beginning to spin from all of this.
He nods. The problem was my work was becoming very well known. I was exalted, and believe me, I exalted in my exaltedness. He laughs and shakes his head. I was painting like a madman, completely obsessed, uninterested in anything else. Amassing a very large collection that drew far too much attention to myself before I properly realized the risk, and then
I look at him, heart crashing when I see the image unfold in his head. And then there was a fire, I whisper, seeing violent, orange flames rise into a darkened sky.
Everything was destroyed. He nods. Including, for all appearances anyway, me.
I suck in my breath, meeting his eyes, unsure what to say.
And before they could even extinguish the flames, I was gone. Traveling all over Europe, fleeing from place to place like a nomad, a gypsy, a vagabond, even changing my name a few times until enough time had passed and people started to forget. Finally settling in Paris, where, as you know, we first metand, well, you know the rest. But, Ever He looks into my eyes, wishing he didnt have to say it, but knowing its necessary to put it into words, even though I already know what comes next. All of this is to say that at some pointnot long from nowyou and I will have to move.
And the moment he says it, I can hardly believe I hadnt thought of it before. I mean, its so obvious, hiding right in plain sight. And yet somehow I was able to ignore it, look the other way, pretending it would be different for me. Which just shows you what denial can do.
You probably wont age much past this, he continues, hand smoothing my cheek. And trust me, it wont be long before our friends start to notice.
Please. I smile, desperate to add a little lightness to this dark, heavy space. May I remind you that we live in Orange County? A place where plastic surgery is practically the norm! Nobody ages here. Seriously. Nobody. Heck, we can carry on just as we are for the next hundred years! I laugh, but when I look at Damen, see the way his eyes peer into mine, its clear the gravity of the situation trumps my small joke.