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Alyson noel the immortals blue moon pdf

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Blue Moon – The Immortals 02 Page 1 of Blue Moon The Immortals - Book 2 By Alyson Noel Every man has his own desti. Blue Moon – The Immortals 02Page 1 of Blue Moon The Immortals - Book 2 By Alyson Noel Every man has his own desti. Just as Ever is learning everything she can about her new abilities as an immortal, initiated into the dark, seductive world by her beloved Damen, something.

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Not in United States? Choose your country's store to see books available for purchase. When a horrible accident claimed the lives of her family, sixteen-year-old Ever discovers she can see auras, hear people's thoughts, and know a person's life story by touch. Going out of her way to shield herself from human contact to suppress her abilities has branded her as a freak at her new high school—but everything changes when she meets Damen Auguste. Damen is gorgeous, exotic and wealthy. He's the only one who can silence the noise and random energy in her head—wielding a magic so intense, it's as though he can peer straight into her soul.

I'm a bad student. I'm lazy, sloppy, and spend most of my time trying to distract you from my lessons so we can make out. And I'm about to get very serious.

So just give me another chance, you'll see. And just as it starts to take shape, Sabine walks through the front door and starts up the stairs, catching us so off guard, we scramble to opposite sides of the room. The amped-up energy of her office still clinging to her as she shakes his hand and focuses on the bottle balanced on his knee. I peek at Damen, panic rising in my throat, wondering how he'll explain. But he just laughs it off when he says, "Guilty!

Most people don't have the taste for it, but for whatever reason, Ever seems to like it. But Sabine just continues to gaze at him, completely unmoved.

But when I see the chai latte stain on her blouse, my annoyance turns to outrage. She gazes down at her blouse, her fingers rubbing against it as she pauses to think, then she shakes her head and shrugs when she says, "I bumped into someone.

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Blue Moon — The Immortals 02 Page 45 of I swallow hard, telepathically urging Damen to just nod and smile and answer in the affirmative even though he has no idea what she's talking about, since I failed to mention it before.

Even choosing to take it a step further by adding, "Wouldn't miss it. Believe me, we've been through this before. And though I may have come close once or twice, I don't remember ever failing inspection. And yet still, I managed to sneak by. Your home, your parents, how you became this way He always shuts down, refuses to share, which only makes me even more curious. Blue Moon — The Immortals 02 Page 46 of "None of that matters," he says, releasing my hand and fiddling with his mirrors, anything to avoid looking at me.

But when I look at him again, I know better than to press.

Besides, maybe it's time I extend a little trust too. He looks at me, his hand on the clutch, ready to shift into reverse. Knowing I am. We've been waiting for this moment for hundreds of years, so why delay any longer? He smiles, his face lighting up for the first time all day. And I'm so relieved to see him looking normal again after that strange behavior from before—his remoteness at school, his inability to make the portal appear, his not feeling well—all of it so unlike the Damen I know.

He's always so strong, sexy, beautiful, and invincible—immune to weak moments and bad days. And seeing him vulnerable like that has left me far more shaken than I care to admit.

Because the moment he opens my door and helps me out of my car, I notice how healthy he looks, how devastatingly handsome he is, and when I look in his eyes, it's clear that all of yesterday's weirdness is over.

We are more in love than ever. All through English he can barely keep his hands off of me. Constantly leaning toward my desk and whispering into my ear, much to Mr.

Robins's annoyance, and Stacia and Honor's disgust. And now that we're at lunch, he hasn't let up a bit, stroking my cheek and gazing into my eyes, pausing only to take the occasional sip of his drink before picking up right where he left off, murmuring sweet nothings into my ear.

Usually when he acts like that, it's partly out of love, and partly to tone down all of the noise and energy—all of the random sights, sounds, and colors that constantly bombard me. Ever since I broke the psychic shield I'd made a few months back, a shield that shut everything out and made me as clueless as I was before I died and came back psychic, I've yet to find a way to replace it that will allow me to channel the energies I want while blocking the energies I don't want.

And since Damen's never struggled with this, he's not sure how to teach me. But now that he's back in my life, it no longer seems all that urgent, because the mere sound of his voice can silence the world, while the touch of his skin makes my whole body tingle. And when I look in his eyes, well, let's just say that I'm instantly overcome by this warm, wonderful, magnetic pull —like it's just him and I and everything else has ceased to exist.

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Damen's like my perfect psychic shield. My ultimate other half. And even when we can't be together, the telepathic thoughts and images he sends provide that same calming effect. But today, all of those sweet murmurings aren't just to shield me—they're mostly about our upcoming plans.

I thought you've been around for six hundred? Knowing the loneliness he refers to does not necessarily mean he was alone. In fact, quite the contrary. But still, I don't call him on it. In fact, I don't say a word. I'm committed to moving past all of that, getting over my insecurities and moving forward.

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Just like I promised I would. I refuse to think about how he spent those first two hundred years without me. Or how he spent the next four hundred getting over the fact that he'd lost me. Nor will I even begin to consider the six-hundred-year head start he has on studying and practicing the—um—sensual arts.

And I will absolutely, positively, not dwell on all of the beautiful, worldly, experienced women he knew over the span of those years. Not me. Good point. She used to be so good about taking me at my word, but ever since I was caught drinking, got suspended, and basically stopped eating, she's been prone to following through.

I smile and lean in to kiss him, eager to erase any lingering doubts mine more than his , just as Miles tosses his bag on the table and says, "Oh, Haven, look!

They're back. The lovebirds have returned! Anyone seen him? Blue Moon — The Immortals 02 Page 50 of And he was in history, I think, remembering how I ignored him all through class, despite his numerous attempts to get my attention, and how after the bell rang, I hung back, pretending to look for something in my bag.

Preferring the weight of Mr. Munoz's penetrating stare and his conflicted thoughts about me my good grades versus my undeniable weirdness to dealing with Roman. Haven shrugs and opens her cupcake box, sighing when she says, "Well, it was nice while it lasted.

We've seen it a million times before. Every new kid with the slightest potential for cool has ended up at that table at some point. Only the truly cool never last long— because the truly cool end up here. Remember how he got sucked over to the other side for a while? But eventually he came to his senses and found his way back, just like Roman will.

Because even though I know Damen was never sincere about his brief flirtation with Stacia, that he only did it to get to me, to see if I cared, the images of the two of them standing so close together are forever burned into my brain.

So, we can only have faith that Roman will too. But when I look at her and see the way her aura wavers and has a deceitful shade of green, I can tell it's not true. She's smitten and that's all there is to it. And if Roman becomes smitten too, then it's adios Josh, hello creepy new guy.

I unzip my lunch pack, going through the motions of pretending I'm still interested in food when I hear: You coming? Clearly aware of the effect it elicits and not afraid to exploit it. Everything you dreamed it would be? Roman reaches toward her, gently pushing her bangs away from her face. A gesture so intimate her cheeks flush bright pink. Where you were sitting? Everyone divides into cliques designed to keep others out.

And those people you were just with? They're the top clique, which, in the high school caste system, makes them The Rulers. As opposed to the people you're sitting with now—" He points at himself.

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It's still a fact. I don't do with segregation, mate. I like a free and open society, room to roam around and explore all my options. You believe in all this? He couldn't care less about A-lists and B-lists, who's cool and who's not.

I'm the only reason he enrolled in this school, and I'm the only reason he stays. It's not a dream at all. You'll see. Though to be honest, I'm more surprised by my use of the word fancy than the tone of my voice. I mean, since when do I talk like that? But when I glance at Roman and see his expansive, overwhelming, yellow-orange aura, I know he's affecting me too. We're going to break these selfimposed barriers, push all the tables together, and have ourselves a party!

But he just laughs, not the least bit offended. A laugh that, on the surface, is so warm, engaging, and all-encompassing—no one would guess at the subtext beneath— the creepy edge, the hint of malice, the barely concealed threat meant solely for me. And all of his lunch-table revolution nonsense? I'm far more interested in you. Like the entire world has shrunk down to this one single point.

And by the time I break away, I'm so charged, so heated, and so breathless, I can barely speak. But he's stronger than I am, so he simply stays put. I mean, I get that he finished school hundreds of years ago and now finds it all rather tedious. And even though I mostly find it tedious too, since having instant knowledge of all the stuff they're trying to teach really does make it seem pretty pointless, it's still one of the few things in my life that feels somewhat normal.

And ever since the accident, when I realized I'd never be normal again, well, it made me prize it that much more. But I shake my head again and hold firm, gripping his arm even tighter as I drag him toward class. Instead, we share a brief kiss in the parking lot before I climb into my car and head for the mall. I want to buy something special for tonight—something pretty for Miles's play and my big date—both of us starring in our own kind of debut.

But after checking my watch and seeing I don't have as much time as I thought, I wonder if I should've taken Damen up on his offer to ditch school. I cruise through the parking lot, wondering if I should try to find Haven. We haven't really hung out that much since that whole weird thing with Drina, and then when she met Josh, well, even though he doesn't go to our school, they've been pretty much joined at the hip ever since.

He even managed to wean her from her support group addiction. Her after-school ritual of scoping out random church basements and loading up on punch and cookies, while making up some sob story about that particular day's addiction. And up until now, I haven't really minded seeing less of her since she seems so happy.

Like she's finally found someone who not only likes her but who's good for her too. But lately I'm starting to miss her, and I'm thinking a little time together might do me some good. I spot her and Roman leaning against his vintage red sports car, watching as Haven grabs hold of his arm and laughs at something he said. The severity of her black skinny jeans, black shrunken cardigan, Fall Out Boy tank, and purposely messy dyed black hair with shocking red stripe, all softened by her rosy pink aura, its edges expanding, reaching, until it swallows them both.

Leaving no room for doubt that if Roman feels the same way, Josh will soon be replaced. And even though I'm determined to stop it before it's too late, I've just started to cruise by when Roman glances over his shoulder and peers at me with a gaze so insistent, so intimate, so loaded with unknown intent—I punch the pedal and zoom past.

Blue Moon — The Immortals 02 Page 56 of Because despite the fact that my friends all think he's so cool, despite the fact that the A-list agrees, despite the fact that Damen isn't the least bit alarmed—I don't like him. Even though my feelings are based on nothing more substantial than a constant ping in my gut whenever he's near—the fact is: That new guy really gives me the creeps.

Since it's hot, I head over to the indoor mall of South Coast Plaza as opposed to the outdoor mall of Fashion Island, even though the locals would probably do the opposite. But I'm not a local. I'm an Oregonian. Which means I'm used to my pre-spring weather being much more, well, pre-spring like. You know, gobs of rain, overcast skies, and plenty of mud. Like a real spring.

Not this hot, weird, unnatural, summer hybrid that tries to pass as spring. And from what I hear, it's only going to get worse. Which makes me miss home even more.

Normally, I go out of my way to avoid places like this—a place so overrun with light and noise and all of that crowd-generated energy that always overwhelms me and sets me on edge. And without Damen by my side, standing in as my psychic shield, I'm back to relying on my iPod again. Though I refuse to wear my hoodie and sunglasses to block out the noise like I used to. I'm done with looking like a freak.

Instead, I narrow my focus to what's right before me, and block out all the peripherals like Damen taught me to do. I insert my ear buds and crank up the volume, allowing the noise to bar everything but the swirling rainbow of auras and the few disembodied spirits floating about which, despite my narrowed focus, really are right in front of me.

And when I head into Victoria's Secret, aiming straight for the naughty nighties section, I'm so focused, so intent on my mission, I fail to see Stacia and Honor just off to the side. Blue Moon — The Immortals 02 Page 57 of And even though I was merely curious, and not even thinking about buying it, seeing her face all scrunched up like that and hearing the mocking thoughts in her head makes me feel totally foolish.

I drop it back on the rack and fidget with my ear bud, pretending as though I didn't hear a thing as I move toward the matching cotton sets, which are way more my style and speed. But just as I begin browsing through several hot-pink-and-orange-striped camis, I realize they're probably nowhere near Damen's speed.

He'd probably prefer something a little more racy. Something with a lot more lace and a lot less cotton. Something that could actually be considered sexy. And without even looking, I know Stacia and her faithful lapdog have followed. Freak can't decide between skanky or sweet. It'spretty much a sure thing. Besides, from what I recall about Damen, he's not so big on sweet.

But only for a moment before I force myself to resume breathing and browsing, refusing to let her think, even for a second that her words might've gotten to me. Besides, I know all about what happened between them, and I'm happy to report that it was neither skanky nor sweet. Mostly because it wasn't anything at all. Damen merely pretended to like her so he could get to me. And yet, just the thought of him even pretending still makes me queasy.

She can't hear you," Honor says, scratching her arm and glancing between Stacia and me, then checking her phone for the hundredth time to see if Craig answered her text. But Stacia remains rooted, enjoying herself far too much to give up so easily. She can hear everything we say and everything we think. Because Ever's not just a freak, she's also a witch. Ignore her, ignore her Just focus on shopping and she'll go away.

But Stacia's not going anywhere. Instead, she grabs hold of my arm and pulls me right to her, saying, "Come on, don't be shy. Show her. Show Honor what a freak you are! And I know she's trying to bait me, incite me, aware of exactly what I'm capable of after that time when I lost control in the hallway at school. Only that time she didn't do it on purpose—she had no idea what I could do.

Honor starts to fidget, standing beside her and whining, "Come on, Stacia. Let's go. This is boring. Tell her what you see! Stacia scratching and clawing her way to the top of the popularity pyramid, stomping much harder than necessary on all those beneath her.

Including Honor, especially Honor, who's so afraid of being unpopular she does nothing to stop it I could tell her what a horrible friend Stacia really is, expose her for the awful person I know her to be. I could pry Stacia's hand from my arm and fling her across the room so hard she'd fly straight through the plate glass window before crashing into the mall directory Only I can't. The last time I let loose at school, when I told Stacia all the awful things I know about her, it was a colossal mistake—one I don't have the luxury of making again.

There's so much more to hide now, much bigger secrets at stake—secrets that belong Blue Moon — The Immortals 02 Page 59 of not only to me but to Damen as well. Stacia laughs as I fight to stay calm and not overreact. Reminding myself that while appearing weak is okay, giving in to weakness is definitely not. It's absolutely imperative to appear normal, clueless, and allow her the illusion that she's so much stronger than me. Honor checks her watch, rolling her eyes, wanting to leave.

And just as I'm about to pull away, and maybe even accidentally backhand Stacia while I'm at it, I see something so awful, so repulsive, I knock an entire rack of lingerie to the floor in an attempt to break free. Bras, thongs, hangers, and fixtures—all of it crashing to the ground in one big heap.

With me as the cherry on top. Zooming in to get close-up footage of me attempting to break free of a red lace garter belt that's wrapped around my neck. Stacia pausing long enough to glance over her shoulder and say, "I'm watching you, Ever. Believe me, I'm not through with you yet. Chapter Ten The moment I sense Damen turning onto my street, I run to the mirror again and fidget with my clothes, making sure everything is right where it should be—the dress, the bra, the new lingerie—and hoping it all stays in place well, at least until it's time to come off.

After the Victoria's Secret salesgirl and I cleaned up the mess, she helped me choose this really pretty matching bra and panty set that isn't made of cotton, isn't embarrassingly sexy, and doesn't actually support or cover much of anything, but then I Blue Moon — The Immortals 02 Page 60 of guess that's the point. Then I moved on to Nordstrom where I bought this pretty green dress and some cute strappy wedges to go with it.

Only I was never really like Stacia. I mean, I may have been popular and a cheerleader, but I was never a bitch. I gaze at him, watching as he leans against the doorjamb and smiles. Taking in his dark jeans, dark shirt, dark jacket, and the black motorcycle boots he always wears and feeling my heart skip two beats. My eyes grazing over the planes of his face, his dark eyes, smooth skin, his irresistible lips, drinking all of him in. In fact—I'm ecstatic. I think we need a new word. And I want everything to be perfect.

I want it to be everything you dreamed it would be. I just hope I don't disappoint you. He places his finger under my chin, lifting my face until my lips meet his.

And I kiss him back with such fervor, he pulls away and says, "Maybe we should head straight for the Montage instead? Regretting the joke when he pulls away and I see how hopeful he is. Only he doesn't. And when he looks at me with his face so drawn and serious, I know I strayed too close to the truth. All of my lives have always ended on this night—the night we'd planned to be together.

And even though I don't remember the details, he clearly does. Taking full advantage of Josh's absence by pressing her shoulder against his and cocking her head in a way that allows her to gaze up at him adoringly and smile at Blue Moon — The Immortals 02 Page 62 of everything he says. The second thing I notice is that my seat is also beside Roman's.

Only unlike Haven, I'm not at all thrilled. But since Damen's already claimed the outside seat, and I don't want to make a big show of moving, I reluctantly sink down onto mine. Feeling the invasive push of Roman's energy as his eyes peer into mine—his attention so focused on me, I can't help but squirm. I gaze around the mostly full theater, trying to get my mind off of Roman and am relieved when I see Josh heading down the aisle, clad in his usual tight black jeans, studded belt, crisp white shirt, and skinny checkered tie, his arms loaded down with candy and bottles of water as his black swoop of hair Hops into his eyes.

And I can't help but breathe a sigh of relief, seeing how perfect he and Haven are for each other, and I'm thrilled that he's not been replaced. I take one for myself and try to pass the other to Damen, but he just shakes his head and sips his red drink. In which case, share the wealth, mate. Don't leave us out here in the cold. And just as I'm about to butt in, fearing that Damen's so nice he might agree to give Roman a taste, the curtain unfolds and the music begins.

And even though Roman gives up and leans back in his seat, his gaze never once wavers from me. Miles was amazing. I mean, it's so amazing to think that out of all of those incarnations, out of all the times we met and fell in love, we never once managed to seal the deal. But tonight, all of that changes. Tonight we bury the past and move toward the future of our eternal love.

When the curtain finally closes, we all get up and head for backstage. But just as we reach the backdoor, I turn to Damen and say, "Damn! We forgot to stop by the store and pick up some flowers for Miles. Shaking his head as he says, "What're you talking about? We've got all the flowers we need right here. If you want to access them on a physical level, all you have to do is manifest them like I taught you to do. This is really no time for a lesson.

But Damen's not buying it. Have I taught you nothing? But I'm a horrible student and I've slacked off so much it'll be better for both of us if I leave the manifesting of flowers to him. Blue Moon — The Immortals 02 Page 64 of "You do it," I say, wincing at the disappointment that transforms his face. If I try to do it, it'll turn into a big scene, people will notice, and then we'll be forced to explain.

All I want is to get the flowers in hand, tell Miles Bravo, and move on to the Montage and the rest of our plans. And a moment ago it seemed like he only wanted that too. But now he's gone all serious and professor like on me, and to be honest, it's kind of wrecking the mood.

I take a deep breath and smile sweetly, my fingers crawling along the edge of his lapel when I say, "You're absolutely right.

And I will get better, I promise. But I was thinking that maybe just this once, you could do it since you're so much quicker than I am—" I stroke the spot just under his ear, knowing he's this close to caving. But when I look at Damen again, I start to panic.

Because not only is his hand still empty, but a trail of sweat is coursing its way down his cheek for the second time in two days. Which wouldn't seem all that strange except for the fact that Damen doesn't sweat. Just like he never gets sick and never has off days, he also never sweats.

No matter what the temperature outside, no matter what the task at hand, he always remains cool, calm, and perfectly able to handle whatever's before him. Until yesterday, when he failed to access the portal. And now, as he fails to manifest a simple bouquet for Miles. Blue Moon — The Immortals 02 Page 65 of And when I touch his arm and ask if he's okay, I get only the slightest trickle of the usual tingle and heat.

And even though our gaze was brief, what I glimpsed in his eyes made me grow cold and weak. Those were not the warm loving eyes I've grown used to. Those eyes were cold, distant, remote—just like I glimpsed earlier this week. And I watch as he focuses, his brow furrowed, his upper lip beaded with sweat, determined to get this over and done with so we can both move on to our perfect night. And not wanting this to drag on any further or repeat the other day when he failed to make the portal appear, I stand right beside him and close my eyes too.

Seeing a beautiful bouquet of two dozen red roses clutched in his hand, inhaling their heady sweet scent while feeling the soft plush of petals that just happen to be mounted above long thorny stems— "Ouch!

Taking the vase he thrusts into my hands as he says, "Here. You give these to Miles while I get the car and pull it around. It doesn't have to be a big deal. I'm as anxious as he. But I'm also concerned. Concerned about his inability to manifest, concerned about the fleeting cold look in his eyes—holding my breath as he takes a swig from his bottle, reminding myself of how quickly his wound healed, convincing myself it's a good sign.

And knowing my concern will only make him feel worse, I clear my throat and say, "Fine. You go get the car. And I'll meet you inside. Chapter Eleven By the time I get backstage, Miles is surrounded by family and friends and still dressed in the white go-go boots and mini-dress of his very last scene as Hairspray 's Tracy Turnblad. You were amazing! In fact, he was so good I plan to catch a repeat performance on another, less nervous-making night. Having forgotten he's out of the closet with his friends, but not yet his parents.

And speaking of Prince Charming My heart going into overdrive at just the mere thought of him— the whole, wonderful, glorious thought of him—and not doing much to mask my disappointment when I realize he's referring to Haven and Josh.

But no matter how hard he tries, it's no use. Despite the fact that they're perfect together, she's focused on Roman—mirroring the way he stands, the way he tilts his head back when he laughs, the way he holds his hands—all of her energy flowing straight toward him as though Josh doesn't exist.

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But even though it seems mostly onesided, unfortunately Roman's the type who'd be more than willing to take her out for a test drive. I turn back to Miles and force a casual shrug. You guys coming? I don't even know who that is. Because even though we were behaving ourselves and not at all macking, it was almost like our hands we're macking—with the way Dame entwined his fingers with mine—and like our thoughts were mucking—with the telepathic messages we sent back and forth.

Because even though my eyes were watching the whole entire time—my mind was elsewhere, already occupying our room at the Montage. What could be more exciting than partying with the cast and crew? But just as I've convinced myself to spill it, Roman walks up with Josh and Haven in tow. It's only a two-seater, but there's room for one more. Miles shakes his head. Some top-secret plan she refuses to spill. And even though, technically speaking, his thoughts could probably be considered more flattering than crude, the fact that they're coming from him is enough to give me the creeps.

I avert my gaze, glancing toward the door, knowing Damen should've been here by now. And I'm just about to send him a telepathic message, telling him to step it up and meet me inside, when I'm interrupted by the sound of Roman's voice saying, "Must've kept it secret from Damen too, then.

He already left. I just thought you should know that just now, when I stepped out for a smoke, I saw Damen pulling out of the parking lot and speeding away. I stumble forward, my eyes searching relentlessly as my heart beats so fast I fear it might break free from my chest.

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Refusing to believe he's not here. Refusing to believe that he ditched me. Roman's awful! He's lying! Damen would never just up and leave me like this.

Trailing my fingers along the brick wall for guidance, I close my eyes and try to tune in to his energy, calling him to me in a telepathic message of love, need, and worry, but getting only a solid black void in response.

Then I slalom through cars all heading for the exit, cell phone pressed to my ear while I peer into windows, leaving a series of messages on his voicemail. Blue Moon — The Immortals 02 Page 70 of Even when my right, heel breaks off my sandal, I just toss them aside and keep going. I don't care about my shoes. I can make a hundred more pairs. But I can't make another Damen.

And as the lot slowly empties, with still no sign of him, I crumble to the curb, feeling sweaty, exhausted, deflated Watching the cuts and blisters on my feet simultaneously mend, and wishing I could close my eyes and access his mind—get a read on his thoughts, if not his whereabouts.

But the truth is, I've never been able to get inside his head. It's one of the things I liked best about him. His being so psychically off limits made me feel normal. And wouldn't you know, the one thing that once seemed so appealing is now the very thing that's working against me.

I shake my head and look away, knowing I'm in no position to refuse a ride, though I'd rather crawl through a trail of hot coals and broken glass than climb inside a two-seater with him. I mean, look at you, Ever. You're disheveled, shoeless, and though I can't be too sure, it appears that your boyfriend has ditched you.

Cringing as his eyes slowly rake over my body, lingering on my legs, my waist, and myc hest—with an unmistakable gleam. That even though I may look like your average defenseless girl on the outside, I'm anything but. I could pick him up off his feet and toss him clear across the parking lot to the other side of the street. He smiles, that lazy grin that works on just about everyone but me, his steely blue eyes peering straight into mine with a gaze so knowing, so personal, so amused—my first instinct is to flee.

But I don't. Blue Moon — The Immortals 02 Page 72 of Because everything about him feels like a challenge, and no way am I letting him win. Turning to pick up the pace and feeling his chill as he trails right behind me.

His icy cold breath on the back of my neck when he says, "Ever, please, slow down a minute, would ya? I didn't mean to upset you. I keep going. Determined to put as much distance between us as I possibly can.

Your friends have all left, Damen's buggered off, the cleaning crew went home, which makes me your only hope left. This conversation is over. But I don't want to start over. Nor do I want to make amends.

I just want him to turn around, go somewhere else, and leave me alone so I can find Damen. So I glance over my shoulder and say, "Don't flatter yourself, Roman. Hating requires caring. In which case, I couldn't possibly hate you. Dancing around a couple of speeders intent on beating the yellow, and feeling the insistent chill of his gaze. I'm sure the heel can be fixed.

Seeing him bow deeply behind me, his arm sweeping upward in an exaggerated arc, my sandals dangling from the tips of his fingers. The Iron Traitor. Sweet Evil. Once in a Full Moon. Ellen Schreiber. Moon-Tide Lone March 5. Chosen at Nightfall. Fanning the Flames. Burning Bright.

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