Blue Moon by Alyson Noël Read Free Book Online Page A

everyone’s instant infatuation with him, I’m just not feeling it, no matter how hard I try.
    I unlock my car and toss my bag on the floor, starting to slide onto my seat as I say to Damen, “Miles has rehearsal and I’m heading straight home. Want to follow?”
    I turn, surprised to find him standing before me, swaying ever so slightly from side to side with a strained look on his face. “You okay?” I lift my palm to his cheek, feeling for heat or clamminess, some sign of unease, even though I really don’t expect to find any. And when Damen shakes his head and looks at me, for a split second all the color drains right away. But then it’s over as soon as I blink.
    â€œSorry, I just—my head feels a bit strange,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes.
    â€œBut I thought you never get sick, that
we
don’t get sick?” I say, unable to hide my alarm as I reach for my backpack. Thinking a sipof immortal juice might make him feel better since he requires so much more than I. And even though we’re not exactly sure why, Damen figures that six centuries of chugging it have resulted in some kind of dependency, requiring him to consume more and more with each passing year. Which probably means I’ll eventually require more too. And even though it seems like a long way off, I just hope he shows me how to make it by then so I won’t have to bug him for refills all the time.
    But before I can get to it, he retrieves his own bottle and takes a long hearty swig, pulling me to him and pressing his lips to my cheek when he says, “I’m okay. Really. Race you home?”

seven
    Â 
    Damen drives fast. Insanely fast. I mean, just because we both have advanced psychic radar, which comes in handy for zoning in on cops, opposing traffic, pedestrians, stray animals, and anything else that might get in our way, that doesn’t mean we should abuse it.
    But Damen thinks otherwise. Which is why he’s already waiting on my front porch before I can even pull in and park.
    â€œI thought you’d never make it.” He laughs, following me up to my room, where he plops onto my bed, pulls me down with him, and leans in for a nice lingering kiss—a kiss that, if it were up to me, would never end. I’d happily spend the rest of eternity wrapped in his arms. Just knowing we have an infinite number of days to spend side by side provides more happiness than I can bear.
    Though I didn’t always feel that way. I was pretty upset when I first learned the truth. So upset that I spent some time away from him until I could get it all straight in my head. I mean, it’s not everyday you hear someone say:
Oh, by the way, I’m an immortal, and I made you one too.
    And while I was pretty reluctant to believe him at first, after he walked me through it, reminding me of how I died in the accident, how I looked right into his eyes the moment he returned me to life,and how I recognized those eyes the first time I met him at school—well, there was no denying it was true.
    Though that doesn’t mean I was willing to accept it. It was bad enough dealing with the barrage of psychic abilities brought on by my NDE (near death experience—they insist on calling it
near,
even though I really did
die
), and how I started hearing other people’s thoughts, getting their life stories by touch, talking to the dead, and more. Not to mention that being immortal, as cool as it may sound, also means I’ll never get to cross the bridge. I’ll never make it to the
other side
to see my family again. And when you think about it, that’s a pretty big trade.
    I pull away, my lips reluctantly leaving his as I gaze into his eyes—the same eyes I’ve gazed into for four hundred years. Though no matter how hard I try, I can’t summon our past. Only Damen, who’s stayed the same for the last six hundred years—neither