Evernight (The Night Watchmen Series Book 2)

by Candace Knoebel

  His words pull like a string of hope. Lifting my spine, straightening my shoulders out. He paces the length of the ground in front of us, and then stops by Gavin.

  “Head down to the simulation room. I want you to each run through the programmed simulation for the Holy Seal so that I may assess you. I can’t help you if I don’t know your weak points. Tomorrow, we start fresh.”

  HOURS LATER, I FIND MYSELF standing statue-still, clutching onto a wooden flux.

  “Well, that was fun,” Weldon says with a sardonic smile. The simulated church disappears, and the metal walls of the training room reappear. “You do realize that not moving isn’t a viable defense mechanism when there’s a group of Darkyns dragging your partner and friends off, don’t you?”

  “I know,” I say as I hang my head and exhale a resigning breath. The feeling of defeat has become as common as breathing for me.

  We were the last to go in General Sterling’s assessment, and the only pair to fail miserably. All because of me. All because I froze up. There are too many things racing through my mind, too many objectives that I want to achieve and not enough time to achieve them in.

  I brace myself when the door flies open to the room, and the general walks in. His face is stern, his eyes shielded. I wait for the moment he points out just how much of a screw up I am, but the moment never comes. He stops abruptly in front of me and twirls the end of his mustache.

  Weldon stands a little straighter… straighter than I think I’ve ever seen him stand before.

  “I want you two to spend the next hour getting to know each other, away from the rest of your crew. You need to learn about each other.” He directs his straight-faced gaze over to Weldon. “You’re half-demon, correct?”

  Weldon nods sharply, pulling his feet together.

  “Yet, you didn’t use that part of yourself,” the general points out.

  Weldon shifts his weight. “Well, I try not to tap into that part of myself. It’s not something I feel I should use. It’s not… natural.”

  “Nonsense!” the general says, dropping his hand to his side. “Any ability, whether naturally given, or wrongfully given, is still an ability worth using. You’re cutting yourself short, just like your partner here, by not allowing yourself to be who you really are.”

  Weldon eyes me sidelong, and then dips his head down.

  “And your natural-given partner…” the general drags out.

  “She’s held up in the Underground, sir,” Weldon answers. His tone makes me glance over at him out of the corner of my eye. A strange, painful poking feeling stabs at my sides. At my heart. I’m no stranger to loss. To that awful monster who hides in the corner, waiting for that moment when you least expect it to come thrashing out and steal the ground right out from under you. It’s always there, always hovering close by, holding the small piece of your heart that it ripped out.

  Reminding you that in the end, death is inescapable.

  The general sucks in a sharp breath as his lips dip southward. “I’m sorry to hear that, son,” he says, placing a heavy hand on Weldon’s shoulder. “It’s never easy losing a partner. It took me eight years to adjust to losing mine.”

  My eyebrows crease together. Weldon’s does too. I think my heart is drowning in endless, grieving tears.

  The general’s eyes grow distant. “She was a hell of a woman. A wonder of a Witch. A Were got a hold of her. Bit her. Took her away from me in all the ways that count.” I notice his hand by his side. His thumb twirls a ring around the finger of left his hand.

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” I say, keeping my eyes distant from his. I can’t keep my thoughts from drifting to my parents. My stomach is clenched up in knots so tight I can barely breathe.

  He sucks in a deep breath, pulling himself back together. “It was long ago.” He releases his hand from Weldon’s shoulder. “I just wanted you to know that you’re not alone. Get to know her. You don’t need to be magically connected to make a good pairing.”

  “Yes, sir,” Weldon responds, his voice thick with choked-back emotions. I’ve never heard him so respectful… so… so serious. It makes me wonder about him… wonder all the things I haven’t learned about him yet. His ticks. His likes and dislikes.

  “If you don’t mind my asking, how do you function without her? Aren’t you powerless?” Weldon asks.

  “Are you?” the general counters.

  “I don’t really count,” Weldon says. “The demon part of me allows me to use my Hunter abilities even without being connected to Claire. It’s cheating.”

  “It’s tactical,” the general corrects. “Although I don’t have my Hunter abilities anymore, I still have my wit. My logic. That’s why the Priesthood has kept me around. They value my ability to teach our Elite how to survive without magic. They find it priceless.”

  “Priceless… I’m sure,” Weldon bites off. “The Priesthood values anything that benefits them. The rest is just garbage. We’re easily disposed of. I find it funny that they pick and choose which handicap to value.”

  The general takes in a breath. Opens and closes his mouth as if he’s fighting with himself on whether or not he wants to say what he needs to say next. Shadows seem to settle over his features. A thick tension fills the room.

  “Sometimes… sometimes, I wonder if those Werewolves were sent out on purpose. Occasionally, I wonder if I was just a part of an experiment to see if we can function as Primevals even after our partners and capabilities are taken away. At times, I even wonder if the Priesthood inflicts handicaps as a way of maintaining control.”

  I don’t know what to say… what to think about that.

  “You don’t think…” Weldon begins to say.

  The general shakes his head like he’s shaking away a distant memory. “No,” the general finishes with a forced smile. “It’s just me rambling. Talking about my beloved always stirs something in me.” He inhales and smoothes back his hair. “You’ll find the rest of your crew in the weight room when you’re done. I want each of you to go through all the set routines, and then report back to me in the am. Good day.” He dips his head and walks out of the room.

  Weldon and I stand there for a moment, neither of us saying a word. I contemplate mentioning Clara, but stop because bringing Clara up means bringing up Claire—his lost partner. Instead, I bite my tongue, waiting for him to make the first move.

  “That was unexpectedly deep,” he says on a released breath. Sitting down on the padded mat, he stretches one leg out in front of him.

  “Tell me about it,” I say, playing it cool. I sit next to him, pulling my knees up to my chest.

  He twirls his wooden flux on his leg, propping his arm up on the other leg he brought up to his chest. “I didn’t know he had it in him.”

  “There are many layers to each of us, Weldon. It’s what makes us alive, real, human.”

  He looks over at me and I swear there’s a sheen of regret and sorrow in his eyes, but he blinks too quickly for me to be sure. “Yeah,” he says, his tone low, sad. “Many, many layers.”

  I search my brain for something to say, anything that can connect me to this moment, and to him, but for once in my life, I’m falling short. The quiet between us is so stiff. There’s so much that I don’t know about him, and I’m too scared to ask.

  He heaves a sigh. “I guess I’ll go first. Claire was the most beautiful woman I had ever laid my eyes on.”

  I look over at him, moving just enough to open up to him and show him that I’m all ears.

  He looks at me out of the corner of his eye, shifting a little. “She had this aura about her, this fierceness that drove me wild. Hell, she drove all the guys wild. She was like a tigress, dominating every class she took, and taking no shit from anyone. The Academy was her territory, but it was still too small for her. She needed—she needed more. Freedom to roam. Freedom to hunt.

  “I knew from the moment I laid eyes on her that I was going to marry her, even before the Culling deemed her my par
tner. I remember picking my way through the crowd of novices, thinking what a joke this place was to myself, and how Mack would have loved it. My parents didn’t bother coming. After Mack disappeared, they kind of strayed off the radar, so I just, you know, went to see what all the hype was about.

  “Anyway, I was about to leave when I spotted her getting out of a car. It was like her presence sucked the air right out of my lungs. She was that beautiful. That stunning. She wore tight, black leather pants, and a gray T-shirt that hugged her just right. I remember her hair was this perfect golden hue that was as bright as the sun. Long, wavy, and shaped around the most perfect face. I couldn’t move. She was walking straight toward me, and I couldn’t move.

  “She tried to put up a fight in the beginning, but who could resist this charm?” He chuckles to himself, so lost in thought. “And when she finally gave in to me, I knew that I had reached my peak. I knew that I had touched the edges of the universe. Being loved by her was that powerful.”

  Dropping his head, he closes his eyes. His tone shifts as shadows form around him. “I should have known better when I made that deal. I should have known that she wouldn’t stay put, even when she promised me she would. Even when she told me that we were ride or die, and she would find a way around the deal that didn’t involve making one of her own.

  “When I returned, I had no idea what had happened. They don’t tell you anything down in the Underground. I thought she had found a way. I thought so many things, but never once did I think she had traded herself, because that would mean she went back on her promise. That would mean the tigress would no longer have her freedom. And I couldn’t handle it.”

  He plunges both hands into his hair, rubbing back and forth, as his voice strains with an emotion that drives a knife right through my heart. “She wasn’t supposed to trade herself. She’s not meant for a cage. I should have… I should have found another way for Mack. I should have given it more time but…”

  “Weldon,” I say, reaching out to him.

  He looks up at me, tears dulling the gold in his eyes. “But I couldn’t, Faye. I couldn’t leave him down there for another minute. He’s my brother. My twin. I had to do something. He was always the book-smart one. I thought if I could just get him up here, then he could think of a better solution to get me out.”

  Anger flits across his face, curling his lips. “But he didn’t find a solution. He just stood back and let her go, and I’m not sure I can ever forgive him for it.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I say, reaching out to rub his back.

  He looks over at me and smiles, but it holds no weight. “Wow,” he says, shaking away the moment. “I can’t believe I went there. I didn’t know I could be so emotionally deep.” He’s already putting his walls back up, pushing away the pain he so openly just felt.

  “Weldon,” I start to say, trying to show him it’s okay to be open.

  He waves me off with his hand, sucking in a deep breath. “The general said we should get to know each other. You know my story now. Enough said.”

  I sit there awkwardly for a moment, racking my brain for something to say. Anything to smooth away the awkward silence and drowning thoughts. Something that will drive out the demons haunting both our minds in the form of unwanted memories.

  Finally, a random fact pops up, and it’s just enough to change the tone of our conversation. “Did you know that chocolate has a chemical in it that possibly counteracts depression?”

  He looks at me funny. “I can’t say that I did.”

  I rub the side of my arm and look up at him. “Do you like chocolate?”

  He chews on his lip for a second, his eyes distant in thought. “Umm… I used to, but not so much anymore.”

  “Me either. I prefer cheese over chocolate.”

  He runs his hands through his golden hair. “I uh-I only have a taste for blood.”

  I try to ignore the waves sloshing around in my stomach. “Oh,” I say, swallowing slowly.

  He turns to me. “But I do need to eat human food every once in a while. It just isn’t very satisfying.” He extends his other leg out, leaning back on the palm of his hands. “Sometimes, I miss the gratification of sinking my teeth into a juicy hamburger though. You know—all the grease, melted cheese, sauce, and bacon.” He pauses to look at me. “You can’t have a burger without bacon.”

  “Yeah,” I laugh, “everything’s better with bacon.” Tucking my hair behind my ear, I lean back to match his stance. “I honestly can’t remember the last time I had one.” I close my eyes, and Katie comes to mind. “Actually, I can. The day after high school graduation. My dad had a cookout for Katie and me. That was the last time.” I open my eyes, hating that they burn.

  “Your dad was a good man,” Weldon says, looking me straight in the eye.

  “So uh, what else can you do as a demon?” I ask, shifting subjects onto something a little less painful and close to home.

  He plays right along, allowing me the space I need from a subject too personal to speak aloud. I feel like I’ve robbed him. As if I’ve slotted him when he just opened up to me about Claire, but I can’t bring myself to try. Not about my parents. Not yet.

  “Basically the same things as other demons, I’m just not at full strength since I still have my humanity. I hear every other demon on a different wavelength. I understand their language. I can pass through shadows. I can be vicious, savage, cruel, and heartless… you know… all the basic requirements.”

  “You’re none of those things,” I say quietly.

  He looks off to the side. “You barely know me, Faye. You don’t know half the things I’ve done.”

  “I know that your mistakes aren’t what define you,” I say strongly.

  He snorts under his breath. “Okay, Mary Middleton. Have you tried taking your own advice? Better yet, have you ever considered the notion that just because you accept the fact they’re gone, doesn’t mean you have to forget about them?”

  Heat builds under my skin. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I’m sorry,” he says in a tone that suggests otherwise. “I didn’t realize that you were a psychiatrist. You know—the kind of person who likes to listen to problems, but not speak of their own. The kind that makes you think you’re a friend by listening, but keeps you at a far distance.”

  I flinch back. “That’s not who I am. I was just trying—”

  “To help?” he says, cutting me off. “Thanks, but I think you should direct that energy back onto yourself. I gutted myself over Claire, hoping that maybe it would break the ice between us, but you’ve brushed off not one, but two attempts now at talking about what hurts you the most.”

  Anger erupts out of me. “I’m here! I’m trying! I just can’t let it all out as openly as you can. I haven’t even come to terms with everything that’s happened yet. It’s only been a few months, Weldon. Not years. I haven’t had years to stew over what went wrong. I haven’t had time to really grieve my parents, or even try to save them for that matter. I’ve been pushed into this life, losing everyone that I used to know in the process, and I’m doing my best to keep up with it. If you can’t have any patience with me, then I think we’re done here!”

  His brow quirks up. “You know what your problem is, Faye? You’re bipolar or something. Everything is all or nothing with you. All anger with no patience, all love with no reasoning, or all fear with no confidence. Maybe if you’d stop letting your emotions drive you, then you could get through the simulation. You could unlock your hidden strengths.” He leans forward. “You could allow yourself to be the powerhouse you’re meant to be, rather than the little girl who’s too scared of her own strength to use it.”

  “You’re being a jerk,” I say, wishing we could back up to when things were going smoothly.

  He leans forward and shrugs his shoulders. “Some say jerk, I say a teller of undesirable truths.”

  “How can you be so callous?”

  “Callous? That’s a new o
ne.”

  Standing up, I head for the door. I don’t want to sit another minute in his presence. He’s impossible.

  “Where are you going?” he asks, steps behind me.

  I turn on him, pointing my finger in his face. “You want me to open up? Well, here it is. I know exactly who are you. I know exactly how you feel. Different. An outcast. Scared of who you are and what you’re truly capable of. Scared of your mistakes and the ghosts that continually haunt you. I never asked for this power, just like you. And I don’t want to be a murderer because of it, just like you.”

  He backs up a step, taking in my words, but I can’t think straight anymore. I can barely see straight I’m so angry, so irritated that it’s come to this once again with him.

  “You know, you may think that your walls are so thick that no one can get past them. No one can see just how scared you really are because of all your sarcastic insults, but you don’t fool me, Weldon. You’re just like Jaxen, but more… more pigheaded!”

  I reach for the door.

  “Wait,” he says.

  I keep my back to him, my chest heaving up and down.

  “You’re right,” he says, so low I almost can’t hear him. “I don’t like who I am, and it eats me up inside. Every. Single. Day.”

  Turning around, I keep my lips pressed together. I owe it to him to listen. I owe it to myself to at least try.

  “I hate that I have to drink blood in order to remain strong,” he continues. “I hate that I have to resist the urge to use my demonic powers just so I can feel human again. I hate that I still use them because I’m too weak not to. I hate the monster I turn into, and I hate that my partner is stuck down there, probably being tortured just as I was… or worse.”

  His eyes squeeze shuts and he turns his head away from me, cursing under his breath.

  “I hate that I can’t control my powers,” I say, offering a small bit of solace. Offering what I promised him. I close my eyes and ignore the ripping, stabbing feeling in my heart. Speak over the choking feeling in my throat. “I hate that when I open myself up to pull from the energy around me, I end up pulling on every life force as well, with no way to shut it off. But what’s worse is I hate how much I enjoy it. How good it feels when their energy fills me. I hate how I want more. I hate that I’m a monster too. I hate that I’m weak too.”