Blue Moon (25 page)

But even though I'm acting like the biggest party pooper ever, Ava just laughs. Swinging her wavy auburn hair over her shoulder as she says, “Well, for your information, this is
exactly
as I remember it. Maybe these monuments weren't all lined up in a row, but it's so much nicer like this. I did attend the Sorbonne you know. In fact, did I ever mention the time when I—”

“That's great, Ava. Really,” I say. “And I'd love to hear all about it if I wasn't
running out of time!
So, what I meant to ask was, what do you know about astrology or astronomy or whatever it is that involves the various moon cycles?”

She breaks off a piece of baguette and butters the side, saying, “Can you be more specific?”

I reach into my pocket and retrieve the folded-up paper I scribbled on right after my vision, squinting at her as I say, “Okay, what exactly is a new moon and when does it occur?”

She blows on her coffee, peering at me when she says, “The new moon occurs when both the sun and moon are in conjunction. Meaning that when you're looking at it from the earth plane, they both seem to occupy the same part of the sky. And because of that, the moon doesn't reflect the light of the sun, which also means it can't be seen because its dark side is facing the earth.”

“But what does it
mean
? Is it symbolic of something?”

She nods, breaking off another piece of baguette when she says, “It's a symbol for new beginnings. You know, rejuvenation, renewal, hope—stuff like that. It's also a good time to make changes, drop bad habits—or even bad relationships.” She gives me a pointed look.

But I just ignore that and move on, knowing she's referring to Damen and me, having no idea that I'm not just planning to end it,
I'm planning to
erase
it. Because as much as I love him, as much as I can't imagine a future without him, I truly believe it's the best thing for everyone. None of this ever should've happened.
We
never should've happened. It's unnatural, not right, and now it's my job to put it all back.

“So when does that happen in relation to the full moon?” I ask, watching as she covers her mouth when she chews.

“The full moon occurs around two weeks after the new moon. It's when the moon reflects the maximum amount of light from the sun, which, from the earth plane, makes it appear full. When in reality, it's always full since it's not like it goes anywhere. Oh, and as far as symbols go? You want to know that right?” She smiles. “The full moon is all about abundance, completeness, a sort of ripening of things into their full powers. And since the moon's energy is strongest at this point, it's also full of magick power.”

I nod, trying to digest everything she just said, and forming the smallest inkling of understanding for why these phases are so important for my plan.

“All the moon's phases are symbolic of something.” Ava shrugs. “The moon plays a powerful role in ancient lore and is said to control the tides. And since our bodies are mostly made up of water, some say it controls us too. Did you know that the word
lunatic
comes from the Latin word for moon, which is
luna
? Oh, and don't forget the werewolf legend—it's all about the full moon!”

Inwardly, I roll my eyes. There are no such things as werewolves, vampires, or demons—only immortals, and the immortal rogues who are determined to kill them.

“Can I ask why you're asking all this?” she says, draining the last of her espresso and pushing the cup aside.

“In a minute,” I say, my words clipped, terse, far less conversational than hers. But unlike her, I'm not vacationing in Paris, I'm merely tolerating the view to get to the answers I need. “One last
thing, what's so special about a full moon during
l'heure bleue
, or blue hour as it's called?”

She looks at me, her eyes wide, her voice breathless when she says, “Do you mean the blue moon?”

I shrug, remembering how the moon was so blue in the image it practically blended with the sky. Then figuring it was somehow symbolic of an actual blue moon with the way its color pulsated and shimmered, I say, “Yeah. But the blue moon specifically during the blue hour, what do you know about that?”

She takes a deep breath, gazing into the distance as she says, “The mainstream thought is that the second full moon in a month constitutes a blue moon. But there's another, more esoteric school of thought that says the
true
blue moon occurs when there are two full moons occurring not necessarily within the same month, but within the same
astrological sign
. It's regarded as a very holy day, one when the connection between the dimensions is very potent, making it an ideal time for meditation, prayer, and mystical journeys. It's said that if you harness the blue moon energy during
l'heure bleue
, then all sorts of magick can occur. The only limitations, as usual, are your own.”

She looks at me, wondering what I'm up to, but I'm not ready to share that just yet. Then she shakes her head and says, “But just so you know, a genuine blue moon is very rare, only coming around every three to five years.”

My stomach twists as my hands grip the sides of my chair. “And do you know when the next blue moon will occur?” While thinking:
Please let it be soon, please let it be soon!

Feeling like I'm about to puke
and
keel over simultaneously when she shakes her head and says, “I have no idea.”

But of course! The most important thing I need to know—is the one thing she doesn't know.

“Though I know how we can find out.” She smiles.

I shake my head, just about to inform her that as far as I can tell, my access to the akashic records has just been revoked, when she closes her eyes and a moment later a silver iMac appears.

“Google, anyone?” She laughs, pushing it toward me.

 

Even though I felt like an idiot the second Ava
manifested that laptop (I mean,
duh
, why didn't I think of that?), we did get our answer fairly quick.

Though unfortunately, it wasn't the good news I was hoping for.

In fact, it was anything but.

Just when everything was coming together, seeming like it was destined to be—it all fell apart the second I learned that the blue moon, that rarest of full moons that only comes around every three to five years, which also just so happens to be my one and only window for time travel, has its next scheduled appearance—
tomorrow
.

“I still can't believe it,” I say, climbing out of my car while Ava feeds the meter from a neat stack of quarters cupped in the palm of her hand. “I thought it was just another full moon, I didn't know there was a difference, or that they're so rare. I mean, what am I supposed to
do
?”

She snaps her wallet shut and looks at me. “Well, from what I can see, you have three choices.”

I press my lips together, not sure I want to hear any of them.

“You can do nothing at all and just sit back and watch while everything you love and care about completely falls apart, you can choose to handle just one thing at the cost of all the others,
or
you
can tell me just exactly what is going on here so I can see if I can help.”

I take a deep breath and look at her standing before me, back in her usual outfit of faded jeans, silver rings, a white cotton tunic, and brown leather flip-flops. Always there, always available, always willing to help me, even when I don't realize I need it.

Even back when I was being dismissive (and if I'm gonna be honest—more than a little mean), Ava was right there, waiting for me to come around, never once holding my bad attitude against me, never once turning her back or shunning me in the way I shunned her. It's like she's been standing by all this time, waiting to step in as my psychic big sister. And now, she's pretty much the only one I have left—the only one I can count on—the only one who comes close to knowing the
real
me—including
most
of my secrets.

And in light of everything I just learned, I've no choice but to tell her. There's no way I can go it alone like I'd hoped.

“Okay.” I nod, convincing myself it's not just the right thing to do, but the
only
thing to do. “Here's what I need you to do.”

And as we head down the street, I tell her what I saw that day on the crystal. Managing to explain as much as I can while avoiding the
I
word—honoring my promise to Damen that I'll never divulge our immortality. Telling Ava that Damen will need the antidote so that he can get better, followed by his “special red energy drink” so he can rebuild his strength. Explaining that I'm faced with a choice between being with the love of my life, or saving four lives that were never meant to end.

So by the time we're standing outside the shop where she works, the shop I've passed many times before but swore I'd never enter—she looks at me, her mouth opening as if to say something, before clamping shut again. Repeating this scenario a few more times until she's finally able to mumble, “But
tomorrow
! Ever, can you leave that soon?”

I shrug, my stomach sinking when I hear it spoken out loud. But knowing I can't wait another three to five years, I nod with more assurance than I feel when I look at her and say, “And that's exactly why I need you to help me with the antidote, then find a way to get it to him along with the elix—” I pause, hoping I haven't aroused her suspicions, trying to recover when I say, “—
that red energy drink
—so that he can get better. I mean, now that you know how to get inside his house, I'm thinking you can find a way to, I don't know, spike his drink or something,” I say, knowing it sounds like the worst plan
ever,
but determined to see that it works. “And then, when he's better—when the old Damen returns—you can explain everything that's happened, and give him the—the red drink.”

She looks at me with an expression so conflicted I'm not sure how to read it, so I forge straight ahead. “I know it probably seems like I'm choosing against him—but I'm not.
Really
I'm not. In fact, there's a good chance that none of this will even be necessary. There's a good chance that when I go back to how I was, everything else will go back too.”

“Is that what you saw?” she asks, her voice soft, gentle.

I shake my head. “No, it's just a theory, though I think it makes sense. I mean, I can't imagine it any other way. So all of this stuff I'm telling you now is just a precaution since it won't even be necessary. Which means you won't remember this conversation since it will be like it never occurred. In fact, you won't have any recollection of having known me. But just in case I'm wrong—which I'm pretty sure I'm not—but just in case I am, I need to have a plan in place—you know, just in case,” I mumble, wondering who I'm trying to convince, me or her.

She grabs hold of my hand, her eyes full of compassion when she says, “You're doing the right thing. And you're lucky. Not many people get the chance to go back.”

I look at her, my lips curving into a grin. “Not
many
?”

“Well, no one I can think of offhand.” She smiles.

But even though we both laugh, when I look at her again my voice is serious when I say, “Seriously, Ava, I can't bear for anything to happen to him. I mean, I'd—I'd just
die
if I somehow found out that it did—and that it was my fault . . .”

She squeezes my hand and opens the shop door, leading me inside as she whispers, “Don't worry. You can trust me.”

I follow her past shelves crowded with books, a wall of CDs, and an entire corner dedicated to angel figurines, before passing a machine that claims to photograph auras as we head for a counter where an older woman with a long gray braid is reading a book.

“I didn't realize you were on the schedule today?” She sets down her novel and glances between us.

“I'm not.” Ava smiles. “But my friend Ever here—” She nods her head toward me. “She needs the back room.”

The woman studies me, obviously trying to glimpse my aura and get a feel for my energy, then shooting Ava a questioning look when she comes away empty.

But Ava just smiles and nods in consent, signaling that I'm worthy of access to the “back room,” whatever that is.

“Ever?” the woman says, her fingers creeping toward her neck, worrying the turquoise pendant that hangs at her collarbone.

A stone that, as I recently learned in my brief study of minerals and crystals on the iMac in Summerland, has been used for amulets meant to heal and protect for hundreds of years. And with the way she just said my name, and by the suspicious look on her face, it's not like I need to access her mind to know that she's wondering if she might need protection from me.

She hesitates, glancing between Ava and me, then focusing solely on me as she says, “I'm Lina.”

That's it. No handshake, no welcoming hug. She just states her name and then makes for the door, flipping the sign that hangs
there from
OPEN!
to
BE BACK IN IO!
Then motioning for us to follow her down a short hall with a shiny purple door at the end.

“Can I ask what this is about?” She rummages in her pocket for a set of keys, still undecided as to whether or not she'll be letting us in.

Ava nods at me, signaling that it's my turn to take it from here. So I clear my throat and cram my hand into the pocket of my recently manifested jeans whose hems, thankfully, still reach the floor. Retrieving the crumpled-up piece of paper as I say, “I um, I need a few things.” Wincing when Lina snatches it out of my hand and looks it over. Stopping to lift a brow, grunt something unintelligible under her breath, and scrutinize me some more.