Evermore - Alyson Noel [106]
And before I can move or do anything to fight back, she’s on top of me, slashing at my clothing, my hair, my face, whispering into my ear, “Just give up, Ever. Just relax and let go. Go join your happy family, they’re all waiting to see you. You’re not cut out for this life. You have nothing left to live for. And now’s your chance to leave it.”
thirty-eight
I must’ve blacked out, but only for a moment, because when I open my eyes, she’s still right there on top of me, her face and hands stained with my blood as she croons and coaxes and whispers, trying to convince me to let go, to just let myself go, once and for all, to just slip away and be done with it all.
But even though that might’ve been tempting before, it’s not anymore. This bitch killed my family, and now she’s gonna pay.
I shut my eyes, determined to get back to that place—all of us in the car, laughing, happy, so full of love, seeing it clearer now than ever before, now that it’s no longer clouded by guilt, now that I’m no longer to blame.
And when I feel my strength surging inside me I lift her right off me and throw her across the room, watching as she flies right into the wall, her arm jutting out at an unnatural angle as her body tilts to the floor.
She looks at me, eyes wide with shock, but soon she’s up and laughing as she dusts herself off. And when she lunges at me, I throw her off again, watching as she soars across the kitchen and all the way into the den, crashing through the closed french doors and sending an explosion of broken shards through the room.
“Quite the crime scene you’re creating,” she says, plucking glass daggers from her arms, her legs, her face, the wounds closing up as soon as they’re cleared. “Very impressive. Can’t wait to read all about it in tomorrow’s paper.” She smiles, and just like that, she’s on me again, fully restored, determined to win. “You’re in over your head,” she whispers. “And frankly, your pathetic show of strength is getting a little redundant. Seriously, Ever, you’re one lousy hostess. No wonder you don’t have any friends; is this how you treat all your guests?”
I push her off, ready to toss her through a thousand windows if I have to. But I’ve barely completed the thought when I’m side-swiped by a horrible, sharp, squeezing pain. Watching as Drina steps toward me, face pulled into a grin, paralyzing me so that I can’t even stop her.
“That would be the old head in a vise with serrated jaws trick.” She laughs. “Works every time. Though, in all fairness, I did try to warn you. You just wouldn’t listen. But really, Ever, it’s your choice. I can ratchet up the pain—” She narrows her eyes as my body folds in agony, slumping toward the floor as my stomach swirls with nausea. “Or, you can just—let—yourself—go. Nice and easy. Your choice.”
I try to focus on her, watching as she moves toward me, but my vision is distorted, and my limbs so rubbery and weak, she’s like a fast-moving blur I know I can’t beat.
So I close my eyes and think: I can’t let her win. I can’t let her win. Not this time. Not after what she did to my family.
And when I swing my fist toward her, my body so feeble, clumsy, and defeated, I’m surprised when it lands square in her chest, grazing the front of her, before falling away. And I stagger back, devoid of all breath, knowing it wasn’t nearly enough, didn’t do any good.
I shut my eyes and cringe, waiting for the end, and now that it’s inevitable, I hope it comes soon. But when my head clears and my stomach calms, I open them again to find Drina staggering back toward the wall, clutching her chest, and staring accusingly.
“Damen!” she wails, looking right past me. “Don’t let her do this to me, to us—”
I turn, to see him standing beside me, gazing at Drina and shaking his head. “It’s too late,” he says, taking my hand, entwining his fingers with mine. “It’s time for you to go, Poverina.”
“Don’t call me that!” she wails, her once amazing green eyes now blurred by red. “You know how I hate that!”
“I know,” he says, squeezing