Everlasting

by Candace Knoebel

  “Have a seat,” Mack says as the five of us enter his office. I’m only partially surprised that Clara isn’t with him. “So,” he says, his inquisitive eyes landing on mine, “the other Elders and I have agreed that it’ll be best for Weldon to join you after you take the oath and leave the Academy. His two main purposes will be to provide us with outside information and to protect you at all costs.” He pauses to swallow. “Even though you aren’t bound by the affinity bond, I think this will be a good match as he is partnerless too.” He looks down at his feet and clears his throat. “You will remain with Gavin and Jaxen when you hunt until you’re fully trained. Weldon could be your ticket at redemption. If you both can prove you can work together, then the Priesthood will overlook your anomalies and allow you to remain a Night Watchman.”

  “Anomalies?” I ask, wondering why Mack lumps us in the same category. I have yet to meet Weldon, let alone been told what’s so different about him. I realize my fingers are digging into my palms, and force myself to grip the couch instead.

  Mack doesn’t get to answer me because Jezi cuts him off. “Just ship her to Ethryeal City. Darkyns have no way of getting to her there. I don’t know why the Priesthood’s even considering letting her stay amongst any of us.”

  Mack stares down his nose at her. He takes a long…very long breath and says, “Your ignorance is showing, Miss. Beaumont. She needs the best protection she can get right now, and right now, my trust lies in the four of you. You’d do well not to let me down. It wouldn’t reflect well on your yearly report.”

  She inhales sharply before looking away, her lips pressing into a thin line.

  “So what’s next? What’s being done to put a handle on the Darkyn Rebels? How are we going to find out who let them in?” Gavin asks, shifting enough to prop his foot on his knee.

  “Elite teams are investigating as we speak and Elite Watchmen are being kept on grounds until she leaves campus. Which will be shortly,” Mack answers honestly and without a single drop of remorse. “I have full faith they will squash this threat before it gets out of hand.” His words string together a little too tightly. His tone fluctuates in pitch a little too obviously. His eyes, though steady on Jaxen, blink a little too rapidly.

  He’s hiding something with his words, with his charisma, with his leadership.

  “It’s already out of hand,” Jaxen says stiffly. “They sent Werewolves after her, using her scent. How is moving her outside of this Academy going to benefit her?”

  Mack’s eyes widen, but only for a moment. “This is not to benefit her, but to protect the novices on this campus. She can be sent to Ethryeal City if she wants to feel safe. I’m only trying to acknowledge and respect her desire to be one of us.” He directs his gaze on me. “You want to be a Watchman, well, here it is. This job is dangerous. It’s unpredictable. You either have the gall to get through it, or you cower and find a life in Ethryeal City. Which will it be, Miss. Middleton?”

  Molten anger courses through my system, all the way to my fists clenched at my sides. I am not a coward. “Sign me up.”

  He leans forward with a small smirk and pulls a dagger from a box on the table between us. “Good. Then it’s time to take the oath. Though we normally have a grand, formal ceremony, our time is limited and this will suffice.” He hands me the dagger.

  My stomach hardens to cement. My heart stiffens to stone. I know Jaxen’s watching me, waiting to see what I’ll do. I know he’ll support me in whatever I choose, even if it’s to walk away. But I can’t walk away, not when I have my parents to save. I reach out and wrap my hand around the hilt.

  “Slit the inside of your right hand. You must offer blood for the God and Goddess to witness, and for this oath,” Mack instructs.

  Without a stable hand, I drag the blade across the palm of my hand. The burning sting zips all the way to my knees, but I hold strong.

  “Place your left hand over your heart,” Mack says. I do, staining the outside of my leather jacket with blood. Mack clears his throat and continues, “We will now call upon the God and Goddess to witness your induction into the Night Watchmen.” A powerful breeze wraps around me, and then Mack speaks the blessing.

  To the great Horned God, Lord of the sun,

  We call upon you to witness our rite and offer us protection.

  To the blessed Triple Goddess, Lady of the moon,

  We call upon you to witness our rite and offer us protection.

  With the last word, a powerful gust of air rushes past me. I feel the power of every element enter my body, strengthening and cleansing me.

  Mack keeps going. “Take the chalk I offer and draw a pentacle on the floor in front of you.” I do as he says, filled with adrenaline. I look up to Mack when I finish. He smiles at me and says, “Now offer your blood to the center of the star, to the spirit.”

  I stretch my arm out to the center of the circle and tilt it to release the pooled blood. When the blood hits the floor, my eyes rolls back in my head, the hair raising along my arms. Something enters me, something bigger than everything. Maybe it’s the Goddess or the Horned God, or maybe it’s God himself, but whatever it is, I can feel it examine my soul.

  “With the spirit in you, repeat these binding words and join the Night Watchmen.” I nod and listen to the words carefully, feeling them fill up my soul. It’s time to speak the words, to seal my fate, to become a Night Watchman. With the spirit in me, I chant:

  Of my blood and your blood, we are one.

  Of my heart and your heart, we are one.

  Of my mind and your mind, we are one.

  I pledge my life to the ways of the Coven,

  And offer up my soul.

  Henceforth, we must watch the night,

  For in darkness, we must be the light.

  Searing heat brands my heart, and I fall to my knees, the pain so strong I’m momentarily blinded. Mack quickly releases the God and Goddess as his voice fills the air. “The pain you feel is the God and Goddess leaving their mark on your soul. It’s what binds you to the Coven. You are one of us now, a Night Watchman. Stand and look upon our brethren with new eyes.”

  My vision clears and I stand in front of them. I find Jaxen perched up against a wall with his arms folded across his chest. A small, proud smile glints at the corner of his mouth.

  “Good,” Mack says, taking the blade from me. “Welcome to the Night Watchmen.”

  “That’s it?” I ask, slightly bewildered.

  “That’s it,” he says simply.

  “Welcome to the club, trouble,” Cassie says, throwing me a saucy smile. She twirls a lengthy curl around her finger under Gavin’s arm. “I have to admit, I didn’t think you’d make it this far.”

  Jezi stands next to her with her arms crossed and her eyes looking everywhere but at me. Cassie nudges her in the side, warranting a harsh look from Jezi. Cassie gives her the ‘eyes.’ Jezi sucks in a breath and glances at me. “What she said,” she says dryly.

  Gavin puts a thick hand on my shoulder and squeezes. It’s his way of saying welcome, and it makes me smile. I like that he’s proud of me. He looks past me, and I know from the subtle shift in his features that Jaxen is behind me. I can feel electricity sparking off his body, zapping at each of my nerve endings, pulling me toward him. I feel alive and connected to each one of them. I feel like I’m apart of them.

  I turn to face him just as Mack says, “Go. Get some rest. You’ll be given your first assignment shortly, along with your new living arrangements. That’s when the real fun will begin.” He stands, motioning for us to leave.

  Somehow, my feet carry me out of Mack’s office. I’m too lost in Jaxen’s gaze and heat to pay attention. I blink, and I find myself alone with him in the hallway. My back’s against the wall and his hand is over my head, propping him up. I’m trapped in his warmth and held by the longing in his eyes. Maybe it’s from the spirits or binding myself to my brethren, but I feel him. More than I’ve felt him before, like we’re linked together by some
unseen force.

  But that can’t be possible...

  “I uh…I wanted to say congratulations,” he says softly. All I can focus on is his lips and how much I want them on mine.

  I swallow thickly. “Thanks,” I say, my mind filled with a sudden boldness I don’t want to deny. “Want to go somewhere? Talk, maybe?”

  He nods and takes my hand, guiding me out into the chilly night air. We head toward my room without speaking. Anticipation leaks to every part of my body, turning me into a living, breathing furnace. I don’t know if it’s him or the fact that I’m on the brink of putting it all out there, but it’s hard for me to focus on anything but the feel of his hand in mine. I’m suddenly too aware of everything, of my grip, of the distance between us, of the direction we’re headed, of my want for his body to cover mine, of my need to be buried in kisses and pleasured torture.

  Of my need for him to make the pain stop.

  I unlock my door and pull him inside. Midnight jumps of the armoire and stands on the bed, waiting for me to pet him. I turn to face Jaxen, my other hand taking his. I’m not trying to, but my feet are slowly moving backwards, pulling him to my bed.

  But his steps are two steel weights I cannot move.

  He clears his throat. “I umm…I’m sorry about your parents,” he says. He looks so unsure, so…afraid.

  My heart lurches at the mention of them.

  “I wanted to tell you when I found out,” he says desperately, his words reaching out for me, “but I was stuck with Mack in Ethryeal City. There’s no way of contacting you on that plane, and by the time we returned, I didn’t know how.”

  I swallow back the tears trying to break through and manage to find my voice. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

  “We’ll figure it out. I promise.” He takes a step in my direction and stops.

  I want to believe him. I know he means what he says, because he never says anything unless he means it, but I can’t let myself believe. “How? I don’t even know what the Darkyns want from me. I don’t know who took my parents. I don’t know how to save them, and Mack has yet to tell me what the book is for.” I bite my lip, so close to crying that my stomach muscles clench.

  He takes another step toward me. “I know because it’s winter. I’ve always thought of the snow as a reset button of sorts.”

  I pick my head up and look at him strangely, my muscles relaxing a little. I can’t connect the dots between my situation and the snow.

  He clenches his jaw, the square lines of his face becoming more prominent. He’s struggling with his words, but when he looks at me, he seems to find them. “When my dad was still alive, and I was much younger, my parents were always busy with their obligations to the Coven, but every winter, they always took me and Gavin away on long camping or fishing trips. We’d go somewhere that would bring us together as a family.” He stops, seeming lost in a distant memory that he can’t quite grasp on to. “I always looked forward to the snow, because that meant I’d have time with my parents. This life, the life of a Night Watchman, it’s never an easy one. We’re bound to the code of our Coven, and as children, we say goodnight to our parents not knowing if we’ll ever see them again when they leave for a hunt. So the snow became a sort of sign that I was one step closer to being with my family for a moment in time without fear, and without distractions from their duties. It’s a sign of hope.”

  There’s so much pain in his voice, so much innocence lost… I connect to it. I knew what it felt like to have parents gone all the time, serving a purpose higher than ourselves. I knew what it felt like to stare out the window and stay up late into the night, waiting for them to come home. And I knew what it was like to have them ripped away from me because of who we are.

  “I’m really sorry about him,” I say mournfully, knowing deep down that words will never be enough to cure the pain of losing a parent. I think back to what Gavin had said about him, about how his mother had left them after their father died, and stealing away Jaxen’s faith in people with her. He’s scarred…just like the rest of us. And he’s searching for a cure…just like the rest of us.

  Gently, he takes my hand and caresses it with his thumb, sending tremors of warmth and pleasure across my skin. “Yeah, me too,” he says sadly. “I was 13 when he died because of the curse.”

  Shards of pain scrape at the back of my throat. I don’t know what to say. I don’t want to ask how, but I feel like I should bear this weight with him. I’m fumbling, stumbling, falling right alongside of him as I hold tight to his hand.

  “He was just…gone one day,” he continues, his hand squeezing mine, like he needs it to keep himself steady, like it can protect him from the Demons that still haunt him. “I don’t think I’ve ever come to terms with it. I don’t want to, because that means I’ll have to let him go. I just…he was who I wanted to be when I grew up. He was my…” His head falls. “It’s just not fair.”

  I pull him into a hug, and he releases a breath that sounds like it had been pent up inside of him for a very long time, like he has just confessed something he has clutched onto for far too long. I know it wasn’t easy for him to share that. I find myself actually proud that he did, that he allowed himself to be open, but even more so, I’m flattered that he chose me to be the one he let in.

  My heart does a cartwheel at the thought, leaving me slightly loopy. It’s the kind of feeling I think someone feels when they’re falling for someone, or at least on the edges of it.

  “Gavin took care of me after that,” he says, his head resting against the top of mine. I can hardly breathe, he’s so close. My hands clench against his jacket. I don’t know where I should put them. I want to roam his back, feel the lines and curves, but I can’t.

  “…and my mom...she went a little nuts. He was her Hunter. She lost everything when she lost him. She thought it would be her. To realize he never loved her...” He’s on the verge of falling apart. It’s obvious from the tremble in his words.

  A small sigh escapes my lips. I don’t even think, I just pull him closer, holding him tight…holding him together.

  We stay like that for awhile, just holding onto one another. I’ve never felt this close to anyone before, not even Katie. I’ve never felt so connected, so understood.

  “Thanks for being…being a good friend. Mind if I umm...grab some water? Maybe wash up a little?” I nod. When he steps out of my hug, my soul wants to scream to bring him back. He wears that look again on his face, the one that says he took it too far…he teetered too close to the edge of what he wants.

  This throws me into a flurry of confusion. Hot, cold, hot, cold…When will it ever end? He’s like the tide, and I’m like the moon, pushing and pulling…wanting but never being able to commit. I can’t think straight. All I can think about is how he felt against me and how much I want this awkward dance of denial to end, how much I want to just say what’s on my mind, without thinking first and without repercussion.

  He walks away from me and into the bathroom, but he doesn’t shut the door. With his back to me, he kicks his shoes off, and then takes his shirt off, tossing it on the marbled sink.

  The world spins off its axis. Lust and desire and need threaten to swallow me whole. He’s a vision of perfection. Solid, full muscles curve around his body. Lines of strength and planes of tanned skin stretch along his back, just waiting for my fingers to discover and chart. His pants hang on the edge of his defined hips, stopped only by the swell of his backside.

  My mouth almost falls open. My heart almost beats its last beat. My nervous mouth almost stays shut. Almost.

  “Did you know that, according to psychologists, it only takes between 90 seconds and four minutes to decide if you have feelings for someone or not?” My hand shoots up to my mouth the moment the sentence is spoken. It has been forever since I spoke a fact, since I felt this awkward in a moment.

  I’m flustered. His presence alone hinders my ability to think straight. I drag my hand down my face, cursing the
heat building behind my cheeks, and peek at him through the open space of my fingers.

  Jaxen stops messing with the towel by the sink and turns just enough to face me. “I’d have to say I can prove them wrong.”

  My heart leaps up my throat and into my mouth, binding my tongue. Is he trying to say he doesn’t have feelings for me? Is he trying to say he does? Should I say something? Did I read the signs wrong? I do have a tendency to do that. Just like that one time with this one kid in second grade who accidentally left me a valentines card when…

  “Faye?” His voice smoothes over me yet scorches like the fiery burn of whiskey.

  I steel myself. No more games. “What does that mean?” I ask boldly.

  His shoulders tense the moment I ask. Seconds tick by, and each one that does I make a wish on. Tell me the truth. Tell me the truth. Please, please tell me. Please open up to me. I guess I was due for a wish to come true.

  He sighs, and I know by the sound that he doesn’t want to say whatever it is he is about to say, but he does anyway. “The statistic was wrong because it didn’t take more than a second for me to realize my feelings. I knew I’d have it bad for you the moment I saw you. I knew you’d be my undoing.”

  My blood is electric, waking every nerve ending in my body. He just told me he liked me. He really just said that. I’m too shocked to speak, too afraid that this moment is only a dream. I debate whether or not I want to look up at him, because I know the moment I do, all bets will be off. I don’t have to debate for long because he finishes what I cannot.

  “But no matter how much this feels right, no matter how much I want this, I can’t risk it. It wouldn’t be fair and it’s dangerous for reasons that you don’t understand. I think it’s best if we just shut it off. Our emotions, I mean. I think we should keep them off when we are around each other. We can’t give in to our weaknesses. We can’t give in to our wants. We have to be strong.”

  I look up at him, and I can see in his eyes that he wants me to disagree. He wants me to be the stronger one. He wants…me.