“Weldon, this isn’t funny,” I say, the warning clear in my words.
The humor drops from his face. “No, it’s not. It’s annoying. Really annoying, but who am I to judge?”
Something doesn’t sit well in my stomach, like spoiled food. There’s a callousness in his tone I’ve never heard before. A twinge of displeasure and frustration that can’t be overlooked.
I try to reach into his mind, but there are bricks in my way, climbing higher and higher until I see nothing but black.
Weldon?
“Do you really think interfering is going to help at this point?” Weldon asks.
Our eyebrows collectively furrow.
“I mean, if he wants to do this, he’ll find a way. Barging in on him probably isn’t the best way to get him to listen,” he continues, his tone sounding further and further away.
“Are you out of your mind?” Jaxen asks through his teeth.
Weldon shrugs.
“No. We can’t just let him do this,” Jaxen continues. “If anyone understands that, it should be you.” The accusations in his tone is thick and slung toward Weldon, but Weldon doesn’t seem to care.
My stomach curdles with fear. Weldon would never have been okay with Gavin making a deal, so why now?
“Can you take me there?” Jaxen asks, only half-looking at Weldon, like he can’t stand the sight of him anymore.
Weldon’s head falls to the side, lips pursed. “You do know who you’re asking, right?”
“I want to go with you,” I say, desperate to move, to do something other than sit back and watch someone I love hurt themselves.
Jaxen looks at me, searching my eyes. He swallows thickly, and then braces my arms. “Faye, I don’t know if that’s a good idea. Gavin…”
His unspoken words hit me like a hammer to my ankles. Gavin doesn’t want to see me. In his eyes, I’m the reason Cassie died. I’m the one who should have woken and killed Mourdyn before the curse could take her.
I chew the inside of my cheek. Dig my fingernails into my palms until the pain blooms, trying to keep the tears from blurring my vision. “Yeah, of course.” I take in a quick breath and turn to Jezi. “Maybe you should go with him. You were close to Cassie. He might listen to you.”
She watches me for a second, and then agrees, moving to stand with Jaxen and Weldon.
“Please, bring him back,” Evangeline says, hugging herself.
“Seeing how the whole Calvary is going after him, it seems he doesn’t have a choice in the matter,” Weldon says. “He’s just having an emo moment. Couldn’t be a Gramm if he didn’t.” He tries to offer a smile, but it breaks and falters, like his lips have never done it before. Then he just grabs onto Jaxen and Jezi, and then disappears into a shadow.
Evangeline and I stand there in shared silence, staring at the shadow as if they’ll reemerge with Gavin in tow any second. I look over at her from the corner of my eye, watching as she worries her lip between her teeth. Her face molds into the shape of pain, and then she turns from the corner and busies herself with moving the nonexistent clutter around the room. “We should get some rest,” she says, her motherly instincts kicking into gear. “A watched pot never boils.” She turns to me, her gaze distant, and then disappears down the hallway to her room.
With the absence of everyone, the apartment suddenly feels smaller… the air tight and cold. I look around the living room, into the kitchen to the clock, thinking about how just a few short hours ago, this space was filled with laughter and happiness. With words and music, and the aroma of a home-cooked meal. The only thing missing was Gavin.
The lack of his presence felt like a room without natural light. Like standing in an artificial garden: everything looked right, but it felt like it was missing something—life.
A picture on the mantle of Jaxen and Gavin when they were younger calls to me. I stop in front of it and reach for the frame. Gavin was a few inches taller and used the advantage to rest his forearm on top of Jaxen’s head, who looked just as happy as could be. They’re both smiling purely. Openly. Like someone had just said something funny.
Nothing like the last time I saw Gavin. The light missing from his eyes. The color bleached from his skin. It reminds me of a project I did when I was in school. I had to spend a month growing a plant as we learned about photosynthesis. Every morning, I would water the flower and watch as the sun rose and fed it, as the bloom spread its petals and heightened its stem with sunlight. The colors almost sung with happiness and nurturing until a storm came through, ripping at the flower’s leaves and petals until there was nothing left but a withered plant, roots exposed, laying on top of the soil.
I remember being scared that my plant would die. That I had failed it somehow. But my mother helped me put it back into the soil and, with a little extra care, it came back to life until the bitter cold took it a year later.
We had to be able to help Gavin replant his roots.
After setting the picture back on the mantle, I make my way into the kitchen and line seven plates across the counter. I take my time making each plate, trying to keep my thoughts focused solely on the task to keep from slipping into a depression of fear. Once they’re filled with what was left from dinner, I carry two out, stopping before the first two men in the line of seven hunters staring straight ahead at the wall.
“I brought you some dinner if you’re hungry,” I say, trying to meet the first man’s gaze. Even on my toes, he’s too tall. I wait for a second. Nothing. Not even a blink. With a sigh, I set the plate at his feet and head back in for the others.
Maybe they’re closet eaters.
After setting the last of the plates in front of them and locking the front door, I head down the hall to my room. Four walls of security in the midst of chaos. It’s amazing how one small bed in the middle of a small room could feel like heaven when shared with the right person.
After changing into sweats and a T-shirt, I fall against my pillow, burrowing under the covers. I reach out mentally to Weldon, watching everything that’s happening through his mind. They’re walking through the forest, heading toward the cave where I first encountered Bael. I shut my eyes, keeping tabs on their movements until they finally find Gavin sitting Indian-style in front of the cave. He’s staring into the inky depth, as if it will reach out and grab him. Beside him, a deep hole big enough to hold a body has been dug. He was never going to make a deal.
You can’t make one if you’re dead.
Jaxen rushes over to him, followed by Jezi, while Weldon hangs back. There’s a shroud of confusion and conflict around Weldon’s emotions, like he doesn’t know how to feel. Like he isn’t looking at one of his best friends about to do the unthinkable.
What’s wrong? I ask him, feeling that awful pit in my stomach again. That voice in the back of my head that only comes when there is something wrong that my eyes can’t see.
Weldon doesn’t answer. He blinks and forces his gaze back onto Gavin.
It takes a good shake from Jaxen to get Gavin to come out of whatever trance he’s in, but, when he does, he immediately grabs onto Jaxen and pulls him down to him with a desperation that tears at my heart before burying his face in Jaxen’s shoulder.
My eyes pop open as a swarm of emotion rolls over me. I grip the sheets, centering myself, and close my eyes again, watching as Jaxen holds his brother tight, rocking him back and forth. Jezi crouches next to them, rubbing Gavin’s back, telling him he’s going to be okay. To come home. To let all of us be his strength until he can find his own again.
He’s going to be okay, mouse, Weldon says to me, his own voice choked with enough emotion that I can breathe again. Give them a little bit, and then I’ll bring them back.
Okay, I say, and then I pull away from him, burying my face into my pillow.
I cry until I can’t anymore. Until my eyes are swollen shut and sleep wraps her arms around me and pulls me under.
MORNING COMES, BRINGING A SLIGHT chill in the air that hints at wi
nter just around the corner. My eyes don’t want to open when the alarm clock goes off. I rub at them, the skin raw and swollen. The sliver of light slanting through the opening in the curtain makes my eyes feel like needles are being taken to them. Three hours wasn’t near enough sleep to start the day off, but as soon as Jaxen crawled into bed after returning with Gavin, there was no way I could stay asleep.
I cradled his head in my lap, brushing the hair from his face as we sat in the dark in silence. He didn’t have to say anything for me to know he was hurting. He drifted off before I did, the subtle sounds of sleep escaping his lips reminding me of small waves breaking against a shore. The soothing cadence was enough to make my own eyes grow heavy, so I’d carefully moved a pillow under his head, and then curled up beside him, pulling his arm over me so we fit together like puzzle pieces.
I roll, skimming my eyes over his face. I know I should wake him since he has to meet with Sterling, but I don’t want to. He looks so peaceful. Like the world and its heartache hasn’t touched him, and I want to let him stay like that. He deserves a moment more of peace.
“I know you’re staring at me,” he says even though his eyes are still shut.
I settle back into the bed, wiggling my way closer to him as a smile breaks across my lips. “I wasn’t staring,” I lie, laughter climbing the edges of my voice.
His eyes flutter open. “Then what were you doing?” he asks, the side of his mouth lifting, waking his dimple.
I chew on my lip in thought. “I just glanced over. Why are you staring at me?” I turn on him, pursing my lips in challenge.
His grin radiates like sunlight over a dewy morning, and then he pulls me fast against him, tickling my sides as he pins me beneath him. “I’m staring now because you look so beautiful in the morning with your hair piled on your head like one of those silly-looking cuckoo birds. And your eyes are adorable when they’re all droopy and sleepy. Who could resist staring?”
I slap at his shoulder as I try to shimmy out from under him, laughter escaping my lips in uncontrollable belts with every pressure point he wiggles his fingers into. And then I remember he’s ticklish right where his hip bone connects with his leg, and I dig my fingers in, tickling just enough until he rolls off me, laughing as he curls into a fetal position.
“I give!” he says, his hand wrapped around my forearm, trying to pull me off.
I collapse against his chest as we try to catch our breath. He puts his arms around me, holding me close to him, and I wish we could stay like this forever. Nothing matters when I’m in his arms. Fear and worry don’t exist. The world could be knocking on our door, and I wouldn’t pay any mind to it.
He places a kiss against my forehead, and then tilts his head back on an exhale. “Today is going to be crazy.”
“Tell me about it,” I say, thinking about meeting with Alesteria.
He rolls so we’re facing each other. “They’re going to send me out there, you know.” Doubt flickers behind the green of his eyes, and I know he needs me to say something calming, reassuring.
“It’s nothing you haven’t handled before. You are, after all, a Gramm,” I say in a light tone, playfully shoving his shoulder.
He bites his lip and casts his gaze down. “Yeah, I know. I know it will be fine. I’m not worried about me. I’m just—”
I put my finger to his lips. Wait for his eyes to meet mine. “I’m not worried, Jaxen. We have our future to make it to, remember?”
He nods, and then his shoulders go slack, the tension dissolving underneath my willful gaze. A small smile lifts at the corners of his lips, a seemingly genuine one, and then he kisses me and sits up, his confidence renewed.
I tell myself to believe my own lies as we dress in our Elite uniforms and make our way to the kitchen.
We will be okay. We have to be.
After a quick breakfast with Jaxen, and a glance at Gavin sleeping soundlessly on the couch, I kiss Jaxen goodbye and head into the hallway, prepping to greet the hunters. I don’t make it two steps without halting.
The dinner plates I made them the night before haven’t been touched.
“Compliments to the chef?” I mutter with bitterness as I bend down to pick up the plates. “You know, there are children starving in this world. You should be ashamed.”
“What are those?” Jaxen asks as I storm back in and start to dump the food into the garbage.
“I tried to feed them, but apparently, they’re too good to eat our food,” I say through clenched teeth, movements jerky.
Jaxen takes the dishes I set into the sink and rinses them before putting them in the dishwasher. “I’m sure there’s a reason, Faye.”
I set the last plate in the sink and swivel around. “Yeah, well, I wouldn’t know because they don’t speak. They’re mute.”
He’s trying to hide a grin. After drying his hands, he pulls me against him and hugs me even though my hands are crossed over my chest. “Just take a deep breath. You have a big day. You don’t want to start out all moody.”
“No,” I grumble. “I don’t.”
He kisses me again, resetting the day for me, and then sends me on my way. I head past the row of hunters and make my way to the exit without a word. Not that they were waiting for me to say something anyway.
The moment I step into fresh air, it’s like all my anger is stuffed inside a lidded container. The sky is a striking clash of pinks and oranges and purples, and I have the nostalgic wish that I still owned my camera so I could capture it and keep it for a rainy day.
If the sky can manage to paint colors as beautiful as it does after the blackness of night, then I can surely manage to have a better attitude.
The city is busier than ever. Bodies twist and turn to avoid bumping into each other as I make my way to the fountain in the city square. Weldon and I decided to meet there after agreeing to a meeting with Alesteria, but when I get there, he’s nowhere to be found.
I reach out to him.
Go on without me, mouse. I’m running behind, he says the moment my mind connects with his.
I have half a mind to ask him why, but then I think about how he looked and felt the other night with having to meet up with Claire, and I stop myself. He’ll come to talk to me when he’s ready. Maybe there’s something going on between them that has put him at odds.
I glance back over my shoulder at the hunters following me like marbled statues come to life. Looks like I’ll be stuck with just you guys, I think. They don’t wear any expressions on their faces that tell me whether they’re actually alive, or if they came back as some sort of zombie clan assigned to protect me.
The attitude change I painted on smudges.
I try not to notice the citizens watching us as we make our way to the military ward, as if we’re in a parade. I have half a mind to turn around and force them to speak to me.
When we reach the entrance to the military ward, I stop short and turn. My mouth is already open, ready to dish out the thousands of questions I’ve kept stored up for them, but they come to a halt against my lips when my eyes connect with the hunter closest to me. His skin is the color of honey. His eyes a bright, wintry gray. With lips as thin as paper and a strong, square jawline, there’s a power in his gaze that answers many of my questions.
Yes, he is awake. Aware. Alive.
“We should get going, Everlasting,” he says a second later with a thick Spanish accent, as if he knew what I was thinking. His voice is strong and sure, not clunky and hoarse like I imagined it would be from the lack of use.
I blink twice, mentally replaying what he said just to be sure I heard it right. “You… you do speak?” I ask, disbelief coloring my tone.
Another hunter beside him steps out of formation, number three in line, as if under a silent command, and pulls the door open for me. I suddenly feel boxed in by tall, looming hunters.
“All you had to do was try a bite.” A thought dawns on me. “Unless you’re a vegan. Are you a vegan? Did the pork touching
the plate gross you out?” I touch my finger to my lips as heat floods my face. “That’s it, isn’t it?”
Number One is the first to crack a smile, but it’s so small I can’t tell if it’s an actual smile or just a nervous twitch. He nods to the door, telling me to head in, and then steps back in formation without another word.
“Really? That’s it?” I say, throwing my hands up. I step closer to Number One. “One way or another, you will come around. Everyone does eventually.” I turn without saying anything else and head straight for the elevator, telling myself not to look back. I don’t have to—I know they’re still following me.
When we reach the top floor where Alesteria asked me to meet her, a section of the building I have never been allowed to enter, she is already waiting outside the elevator doors.
“Good morning,” she says with a pleasant smile, hands tucked neatly behind her back. Her hair is still short and choppy, angled around her face in a bold way. She’s dressed in all black leather, just as I dress, and I can’t help but feel drawn to her like I always have. She’s one of those people you just know will change your life. Will help you reach for the deepest parts of yourself that you’re otherwise scared to reach for. She’s balanced yet wild. Stern yet gentle.
She’s exactly how I want to be.
“Good morning,” I say as I fall in step with her. The elevator dings behind us, bringing up the rest of my hunters. I crack a small smile at the thought. My hunters. As if I could get used to the idea of having a group under my command.
“How are you?” she asks, my former thought vanishing like a popped bubble.
“I’m good. You?”
She smiles. “Great.” She pauses before turning left, throwing a quick glance past my hunters. “Where’s your partner?”
A frown mars my lips. “He couldn’t make it today. He had something to take care of.”
Evermore (The Night Watchmen Series Book 5) Page 8