Jaxen takes my plate and walks it over to the garbage can just as Katie rushes over to us, panting wildly.
“Kat?” I ask, already on my feet, putting my arm around her. “Where’s Chett?”
“He had to check in with his therapist. I had to come straight to you. I had to show you,” she says frantically, pulling a piece of paper from the pocket of her jacket. She unfolds it, hands shaking so badly I end up taking it from her.
Within the first few letters written, my stomach drops somewhere below the earth. It’s from Eliza—Katie’s mother.
“She wants to help us,” Katie says, voice trembling.
“What are you talking about?” Jezi asks, standing along with everyone else. “I thought she went Darkyn.”
“She is,” I state, eyes skimming over the letter. “But with them being exiled from the Underground and Mourdyn killing witches in abundance to feed his power, she says she wants to help us. She wants to—”
“Come home,” Katie finishes, her voice distant and riddled with tears.
“Kat,” I start to say, not wanting to hurt her. Appreciating that she trusted me enough to bring it to me this time around. “You know we can’t trust this, right? She already betrayed us once. She led them to the manor. She’s responsible for your father’s—”
“Please don’t say it,” Katie says, holding her hand up. “I know. I know this sounds crazy. And I know I’m probably holding onto hope that doesn’t exist.” When she looks up, the pleading in her eyes cripples me. The desperate need to cling to this letter. “But what if she’s telling the truth? Everyone deserves a second chance. Look at Chett. Look at Meredith.”
I don’t know how to combat that. Chett has made a complete one-eighty. And Meredith, Eliza’s sister, walked away from being a Darkyn without ever looking back.
“Maybe she realized what her sister did. Maybe she… maybe she misses me.”
I grab her when she falls into my arms, head pressed against my shoulder as a small sob racks through her. I know what Katie’s mom means to her. Know how hard she’s struggled to always prove herself to Eliza, even when Eliza turned her back time and time again.
“I don’t want to miss this chance if she’s willing to change, Faye. She’s… she’s all I have left.”
“I know,” I say, rubbing my hand against her hair. Jaxen locks eyes with me, and we know this isn’t good. This could be a trap. But it also could be a saving grace. “We’ll take it right to Mack, okay? He’ll know what to do.”
She nods against me as everyone drops their gazes. This isn’t easy. We’ve all been touched by parental issues. Felt their losses, which has molded us into who we are today.
“Do you want me to come with you?” Jaxen asks after a voice comes through his radio, asking where he and Jezi are.
“We’ve got it,” I say, looking over to Weldon. He nods, backing me up like he always does.
Katie pulls out of my arms. Wipes her eyes against the sleeve of her jacket. “Sorry, guys. I know I must look a mess.”
“Nah. You look like one of those cute anime characters. All round, puffy, glassy eyes,” Weldon says with a wave of his hand.
I throw him a questioning look.
He shrugs. What was I supposed to say?
Nothing would work just fine, I shoot back.
Katie snivels. Moves back when Jaxen comes around to kiss my cheek. “I’ll see you before you meet with Alesteria, right?”
I nod. Once he leaves, I take Katie’s hand, the letter in the other, and pull her toward the military ward.
IT DOESN’T TAKE US LONG to get through security. They know us without even having to ask for IDs. Katie has pulled herself back together by the time we make it outside the war room where Mack pretty much lives.
Ever since Charlie became the king of hell, Mack has kept a keen eye on him, watching his every move. He hasn’t said much to us about it, so I can only assume that things are going according to his plan.
“Mack,” I say once we step through the sliding doors. There are a few Elites in the room, some working on computers, others reading through stacks of papers lined down the center of the table.
Mack spins around, hollow circles carved deep under his eyes.
“Jesus. Do you even sleep?” Weldon says as he pulls out a chair in between two Elite men who are reaching for new stacks of papers. They look at him like he’s lost his mind, but he doesn’t care. He just smiles at them, and then puts his feet up on the table, the papers jumping from the jarring impact.
Mack pinches the bridge of his nose and exhales forcefully. “Weldon, how many times do I need to tell you to keep your feet off the table?” he asks, terse as ever though his voice has none of its usual edge.
Weldon smirks like a kid in a candy shop with a pocket full of coins. “You sure do sound like Dad when you say that. Have you been rehearsing? You know your chance at fatherhood slipped through those fat fingers of yours when you tied yourself down to the banshee Clara.”
Mack shakes his head, rolling his eyes up to the heavens.
“I have something you’ll want to see,” I say, cutting in between the two. I cross the distance between us, leaving Katie to stand near the table, holding one of her arms across her chest.
I hold out the letter. He pulls his glasses from his shirt pocket and puts them on before taking the letter. After skimming over the contents, he hands it back to me and turns. “I don’t know what you want me to do with that.”
It takes me a second to process that he doesn’t care. Katie blows past me, taking the letter from my hands. With force, she grabs his shoulder and spins him to face her. The other Elites are on their feet, circling her with guns held out, aimed at her head.
In a split second, I have the four Elites surrounding her on their knees, enough of their power drained to put them to sleep if I wanted them to be.
“How dare you touch me like that, young lady? I am your High Priest. Not one of your friends you can toy with,” Mack says. He cuts his eyes to mine. “Let them up.”
“Not until you listen to what she has to say,” I say, fists balled at my sides.
Weldon snickers behind me and I mentally shove him, telling him not to egg Mack on.
Warning flashes in Mack’s eyes, but he knows he doesn’t have a choice. No title will change the fact that I’m stronger.
He takes the letter again and reads it carefully this time. After what feels like forever, he looks to me, and then back to Katie. “Though I appreciate you bringing this to our attention rather than holding onto it like last time, she did betray us before. What makes you think she won’t again?”
Even from here, I can see Katie shaking. “I don’t know, Maddock. I came to you to ask if I could write her back, with your help of course. If she does want to change, like her sister Meredith has, maybe she could help.”
I watch him take in a long, determining deep breath. Weighing his options as his eyes bounce from the letter, to Katie, to me, and then back to the letter. He chews on the inside of his lip, thoughts buzzing around his eyes until he finally says, “I suppose, if she does want to change, then she could help us with locating Mourdyn.”
Katie’s shoulders immediately straighten. I let up on the drain, watching as the Elites stand one by one, rubbing their temples and casting fearful, malice-stained glances in my direction.
I simply shrug.
“I will have my team concoct a letter for you. Once it is finished, you will review it and suggest any changes that should be made to make it feel authentic. Every letter received will be intercepted by us, and we will determine whether the information she gives is worth using. Is that understood?” He looks over the rim of his glasses, waiting for her answer.
She nods.
“Good,” he says shortly. “Now, if you’ll please excuse us. We have very sensitive matters we are dealing with.” He doesn’t have to say more to tell us Katie shouldn’t be here.
“Thank you,” Katie says before turning
and heading out through the sliding doors. I turn to follow her, but stop when Mack tells me to wait.
“You are prepared for tonight?”
This sounds more like a rhetorical question. Maybe even a small threat.
Heat creeps up the back of my neck. I spin around. “When am I not? Haven’t I proved to be a good little pin cushion for you all to poke your wants and needs into?”
I don’t wait for him to respond. I turn, glare at Weldon as he laughs openly at his brother and my burn, and then make my way back down the hall.
“EVERYTHING WILL WORK OUT. I can feel it,” Weldon says just outside the door to the room we’re supposed to meet the Divine in.
I nod at him, falling into the strength in his gaze, and lift my hand, knocking three times, just as she had instructed me to.
A swift gust of magic opens the door and pulls us in, shutting it behind us. I catch a small smirk on Cecilia’s face where she stands huddled with Garrick, Wistar, and Alesteria. As if on cue, the four of them turn, warm smiles plastered across their faces, almost as if they had repeatedly rehearsed this moment.
“Welcome,” Alesteria says gently. “Pick your seat.”
The room has a sterile smell to it, like bleach and lemon-scented cleaner. And it’s small. No windows. No view to the outside world. The walls are covered in white with posters of the Coven symbol and facts about the uses and side effects of Belladonna and other various witching herbs. There’s a steel counter along the back wall with cabinets reaching up to the ceiling. Four beige lounge chair with armrests are anchored in the middle of the room, each with a small metal tray resting next to them.
I take the seat closest to the door and stare straight ahead, trying not to get ahead of myself. Trying not to over think what comes next. Cassie’s words play through my mind. One of the many things she told me when she was trying to teach me the ways of the witching world. “Messing with spirits isn’t child’s play. It’s dangerous. Even fatal at times. They can attach themselves to you if you’re not careful, and you won’t have the magic to stop it.”
But what if she was wrong? What if I can bring her back?
I feel Weldon looking at me before he takes my hand in his and squeezes. Faye, she isn’t the mission. Sanura is.
It takes all my effort to smile at him.
Cecilia comes to a stop in front of me, her movements so lithe and graceful she looks like she should be on stage in a ballet. There’s such a softness to her that doesn’t fit in this world, a kindness sparkling in her eyes that makes me feel safe. “Hello,” she says, the word so full it feels like a hug.
“Hi,” I say with a smile.
“Are you ready for tonight?” she asks, bending down in front of me as if I’m the only one in the room who matters.
I look over my shoulder to Alesteria, the steely strength in her gaze anchoring me, and then turn back and nod.
“Good,” Cecilia says, sliding her hand over mine. “There is a bit more we need to ask of you though, if you don’t mind.”
Weldon tenses as my stomach sloshes to the side.
“Both of you, really,” she says, looking to Weldon.
“Well, don’t beat around the bush. Spit it out then,” Weldon says, the tension in his words clouding the calm atmosphere Cecilia is trying to build.
Cecilia swallows, and then sets her eyes on mine. “We need to bring you to the brink of death.”
“Excuse me, what?” Weldon says, coming out of the chair quicker than a bolt of lightning.
“Weldon,” Alesteria says flatly, her gaze enough to bend his knees and plant his butt back in the chair.
I look back to Cecilia, telling my mind to be quiet. Begging my heart to stop trying to break through my ribcage.
“Where you must go to find Sanura is the darkest, deepest parts of the Dwelling. She has hidden herself. Even I cannot sense her when I reach out,” Cecilia begins to explain as she levels her gaze on me. “But if you are near death, you can slip in between planes. He…” she says, nodding to Weldon. “He can anchor you here long enough for you to find her and convince her to help you or at least to discover where she hid her Grimoire.” She leans in a breath closer and adds with a whisper meant only for me to hear, “And maybe even find yourself reunited with an old friend.”
My eyes widen under her smirk as Alesteria moves in beside her. “We will not let you slip fully,” she reassures, coming to Cecilia’s aid, seemingly unaware of what Cecilia just said. “The link you share with Weldon will ensure that. Though he cannot follow you, he will be able to sense if you’re in trouble. If you are, all we have to do is inject this into your bloodstream and you will wake,” she says, holding up a needle filled with something I’ve never seen before. The way she swoops in with all the right words tells me they knew this would have to be a pitch. This is something I can say no to, and they would have to understand.
But I won’t say no.
“If this is too much, we under—”
“I’ll do it,” I say, cutting Cecilia off. I inhale courage and let it fill my bones with steel. Let it stuff my veins with nerve. “I’m ready.”
Mouse, Weldon says, eyes nearly nudging me to get me to look at him.
Weldon, it must be done. I can do this. Trust me.
He doesn’t argue.
“I knew she wouldn’t let us down,” Wistar says, excitement trilling on the edges of his words.
“Okay,” Alesteria says, eyes gleaming with pride. “Cecilia is going to walk you through a tight-knit invoking spell that we’ve successfully used before. You will take your partner by the hand, linking you together so you will be anchored in both our plane and the Dwelling. This way, you won’t get lost.”
“Okay,” I say as I flip my emotions off and log everything being said. “But I do have a question,” I slide in.
Weldon side-eyes me.
“What is it, dear?” Cecilia asks, smiling in a way that suggest she knows what I’m about to ask.
“What if she wanted me to bring her back to help—is that a possibility?”
Cecilia’s eyes sparkle with understanding. She knows exactly who I’m talking about, even if the rest don’t. She looks past me, to Alesteria and the rest of the Divine. After a moment, she says, “Well, yes, you have the power to do that, though it is dangerous and tricky, and if you aren’t careful, you could pull out more than you bargained for.”
I think she means Sanura.
Mouse.
Can it, Weldon, I say, determined to have my way.
“But, hopefully, she will be helpful and it won’t come to that. Should it though, it will be dealt with just as we will deal with everything else,” Alesteria says a little too quickly, plastering a fake smile on her lips. I don’t think she wants Sanura here, and I can’t blame her. This is the woman who could have killed her. Who cursed Mourdyn because of her.
Who could very easily walk back into his life.
She waits a beat, eyes locked with mine, waiting for me to concede. I nod, she turns away, and then Cecilia goes over the spell, making me repeat it a thousand times before she’s confident I have it down pat. Alesteria places the doll in my hand, and I try not to cringe thinking about the blood. Everything is happening so fast I’m almost grateful. It cuts out the time for thoughts to creep in.
The needles beside me gleam, and I swallow thickly as Garrick picks one up after rolling my shirtsleeve up. I want to ask him to give me a second, but no matter how many seconds I have, he will eventually have to stick me. Better to just get it over with.
“This has enough Belladonna in it to take you to the brink of death,” he says as he pats the vein in my arm. “Once administered, begin the spell. We have the antidote here. Take your partner’s hand, please.”
My head rolls in Weldon’s direction, begging him to make me think of anything other than the needle as he takes my hand in his and squeezes.
Just think of my sexy body.
I snort laughter and quickly apologize when Ga
rrick almost drops the needle.
That’s not exactly the effect I was going for, but okay… Weldon says with a small smirk that disappears the moment the needle slips through my skin. Eyes squeezed shut, the cold concoction slides through my veins, spreading through my bloodstream, pushing me into a lulling sleep as Weldon worries the pad of his thumb over my hand again and again.
I focus on the warmth of his skin and the comfort he brings me as I recite the spell while rubbing my thumb over the doll. The Belladonna spreads like lead through my veins, weighing me down until I feel like I’m being pressed into the center of the earth. Fire ignites in its wake, searing every inch of skin as I bite down on the leather strap Alesteria places into my mouth. I feel my heart struggling to keep up as the lead reaches the center, coaxing me to sleep.
I don’t fight it. I welcome the cold. Embrace the dark.
The world around me falls, slips, slides away from me, piece by painful piece, until there is nothing but fog.
Nothing but the Dwelling.
“FAYE…?”
My eyes open to a world of pain. Colors sweep in and out, twisting and molting into shapes. There’s a small moment of panic. A thudding heartbeat of a question knocking at the door of my mind.
Where am I?
Maybe my surroundings were listening, because the patterns of color swirling around me assert themselves and it hits me. Cassie. Sanura.
The Dwelling.
“Faye…” I hear on the edge of another whisper. On the tail of a breeze, circling around me.
It’s her voice, and all the memories of her come crashing down around me, imploding my heart from the inside out. “Cassie!”
“Find me…” I hear her say, her voice drifting further and further away.
I turn at the call of her voice, half-expecting Cassie to be there, but I find nothing but an overgrown field of cotton. My heart hides in my throat, pulsing, begging me to say the words to get us out of here, but I move forward, following the edge of the field, scanning for any sign of life.
Evermore (The Night Watchmen Series Book 5) Page 20