Never (The Ever Series Book 2)

by C. J. Valles

  Uh oh. New guy. Right before I had gone on the attack and abandoned my life here for a week in Southern California—a week that had culminated in me racing around the globe with Alex to escape the four terrible and unearthly beings that he saved me from—my mom had been dating Dave, someone she never mentioned again after I got back, which has left me feeling guilty. Because it makes me think that even though Ever altered her memory, somewhere in the back of her mind, she still remembers the awful things I said to her before leaving. A year later, I still feel guilty for it.

  After I had been back for months and finally worked up the nerve, I had asked Ever: Why had he refused to alter my memory when he had been perfectly willing to mess with my mom’s? His answer had been simple: You’re different.

  As in my brain is different. From other humans.

  So it was Alex, not Ever, who had managed to suppress my memory without destroying my mind. Alex. The one I’m supposed to pretend never existed. Like I can erase my memory of him the same way he erased my memory of Ever for that week.

  Suddenly the image of Alex standing on the beach at West Street hits me full force, sending the air whooshing from my lungs. Most days, I’m able to keep his image firmly locked away in my subconscious. Other days? Not so much.

  Over and over, I’ve tried to will him out of my consciousness. Because he’s gone, trapped in Ever’s dimension and never coming back. The problem is I can’t forget him. He saved me. And during that week in Southern California, I fell in love with him. I can’t deny that.

  Smiling at my mom, I pretend I’m not having a mini immortal-related meltdown. She’s dating, which is good. Still, for the longest time I had seen my mom and me as an invincible team. Just the two of us. Now, in the oddest way, I feel like a parent having to let go of her child. Still, whatever my own insecurities are, I don’t want my mom to be alone, especially after I leave—whether for college or to wage immortal warfare. On the other hand, I’m not brave enough to meet her new boyfriend without backup.

  “Ever’s coming over. Is it okay if he comes with?” I ask with an innocent expression.

  My mom’s forehead crinkles. Apparently she hadn’t anticipated that possibility. But the way I figure it, if she’s bringing a date, then I should be allowed the same privilege—even if I am her kid.

  “Sure,” she sighs. “Why not? I’ll see if they can change the reservation.”

  My eyebrow arches. Reservation? That means my mom’s been working up the nerve to tell me about this guy. Tucking my clothes under my arm, I kiss her on the cheek before hurrying past her into the hall. As soon as I reach the bathroom, I close and lock the door behind me. Then, even though I’ve only seen his image in the antique mirror on the landing, I still search the bathroom mirror for any sign of Alex or the inky blackness I’ve seen before.

  “Alex,” I whisper.

  Like every other day, it’s just my reflection staring back at me. Embarrassed, I start the water and watch as the mirror begins to fog up before stripping out of my pajamas. Stepping under the spray, I allow my tears mix with the hot water.

  Crying in the shower. It’s been another twisted ritual of mine for the past year.

  Most days I’m okay, but others I’m acutely aware that things were irrevocably altered that day when Alex sacrificed himself for me. Things I thought I understood—loyalty and love—changed forever. I thought I knew myself. And I thought I understood Alex. Now I question everything. Well, everything except Ever.

  I hate myself for feeling so torn. What I feel for Ever hasn’t changed. It’s my feelings about Alex—and myself—that have evolved without my permission. I wish I could make my feelings for Alex untrue, change things back to the way they were—to the way I understood them. I can’t, though. Turning off the water, I step out and wrap my towel around myself. My entire body freezes when I see the writing scrawled into the fog of the mirror.

  wren

  I stare into the misty glass. Other than my name, there’s nothing there but my own blurred image. I think back to the first time I had looked into the mirror on the landing and seen the blackness. I had been so sure it was my imagination—or that I had just gone completely crazy. The same way I had felt when I first realized that I could hear people’s thoughts.

  Now I know better. I’m not crazy; the world is just bigger, scarier, and crazier than I ever imagined possible. Wiping away the writing, I bury my thoughts before my mind can betray me to Ever. As soon as I’m dressed and my hair is wound up in a bun, I join my mom downstairs in the kitchen.

  “Honey, were you crying?” she asks.

  I look down and frown. My eyes give me away every time—turning from olive-colored to a bright dragon green. Shaking my head, I smile.

  “Allergies. And a really hot shower. It’s freezing in this house!”

  “You’ve never had allergies.”

  I shrug.

  “I do in Oregon.”

  “Look at us two Southern California girls!” she laughs. “I keep waiting … and waiting for the weather to warm up. And it hasn’t happened yet!”

  She holds out her phone and shows me the weather in Topanga. Eight-four degrees. Of course it’s warm in Southern California. It’s the beginning of June. I sigh. Last year it didn’t get warm in Portland until at least mid-July.

  “You think we’re going to get a summer this year?” I ask. “’Cause last year’s was about two weeks long …”

  “According to the weather people—yes, we are going to get a summer.”

  “And you believe them?”

  I take out a yogurt. The last thing I want is to be crazed with hunger when I meet my mom’s new boyfriend for the first time. My mom, Caroline Sullivan, who’s sipping black coffee, has already learned the hard way how psycho I get when I’m hungry. Not surprisingly, she doesn’t question my pre-brunch snack.

  “Isn’t Ever going to be disappointed when he shows up and finds out he’s been roped into brunch with your mom?” she asks in a hopeful tone.

  The doorbell rings the second I finish my yogurt, and I smile.

  “I texted him before I got in the shower. He’s fine.”

  Actually, I’m sure Ever knew about my mom’s brunch plans before I did. Because, unlike me, she can’t shield her thoughts from him. And, thinking about it, suddenly I’m a little annoyed that he didn’t clue me in—until I remember that he doesn’t like spoiling surprises for me, no matter how many times I tell him that I hate surprises.

  “And you guys don’t want to ride with me, I take it?” she says with a wry smile as we approach the front door.

  I smirk as I think of Ever crammed into my mom’s aging copper coupe.

  “That’s okay.”

  Seeing Ever’s tall frame and golden halo of hair through the glass, I speed up and beat my mom to the front door. As soon as I swing open the door, he smiles, which makes my heart race just like it did the first time I saw him. He’s wearing jeans and a black shirt, but he still looks like he just stepped out of the pages of a fashion magazine. He is unreasonably perfect. Staring up at him, I have to restrain myself from jumping into his arms, and his preternaturally green eyes gleam with amusement as my mom picks up her car keys.

  “How are classes, Ever?”

  Now that Ever, Audra, and Chasen have “graduated” from high school, Ever is “attending” Reed College in Portland proper.

  “Same as they were yesterday when you asked him. Right, Ever?” I smile.

  My mom blushes a little. It freaks her out that I’m dating a college guy, but I assume she’d be even more freaked out if she knew that my boyfriend was actually an inter-dimensional immortal.

  “The place is on 23rd. You guys can find it?” she asks.

  I nod. I can get lost just about anywhere; it’s Ever I have complete faith in.

  “And Ever? You’re okay with Wren here commandeering your weekend?”

  “Perfectly,” he smiles.

  With a stern look, I point my mom toward the doo
r.

  “Go. We’ll meet you there.”

  “You’re not leaving now?” she frets.

  “We’ll be right behind you, Mom,” I sigh in exasperation. “I’ve gotta grab my jacket and put on shoes.”

  I point to my socks, and she nods before finally stepping outside. Shutting the door, I turn back to Ever.

  “Mothers! It shouldn’t be that much work getting them out the door in the morning!” I say in mock frustration.

  Ever smiles again as he reaches out and pulls me closer, causing my feet to slide along the hardwood floor until I’m pressed against him. My breath catches as his fingers brush my cheek, and I shiver from the heat of his touch. I stare up at him breathlessly as he pulls me effortlessly toward the loveseat. Then, with more grace than any human is capable of, he sits and, in the same motion, draws me into his lap so that my legs are on either side of his. My breathing hiccups as his hands slide slowly down to my waist.

  “It’s been too long since I’ve held you,” he whispers.

  I smile crookedly.

  “It was just last night,” I murmur.

  Yeah. I say this, but I know exactly how he feels. He smiles and brings up one hand to trace the curve of my neck.

  “As I said: too long.”

  We’ve been treading a fine line for the past year, both of us getting edgier as my birthday approaches. Physically, Ever has been … careful. Careful enough to drive me crazy. When his hand travels to the back of my neck, my eyes close. He pauses, and I savor the unnatural heat of his skin and the perfect, indefinable scent of him before his lips touch my jaw. He pulls back slightly, and my eyes snap open.

  “Your birthday,” he says pointedly. “You’ve been avoiding talking about it, thinking about it—”

  “Yeah, yeah. What’s the big deal? Another year closer to being ancient like you.”

  I still feel like my seventeenth birthday last year was a miracle—so much so that I let it pass without making a big deal about it. My superstitious side had been convinced that making a big deal of it would have been tempting fate. And now that my eighteenth birthday is on top of me, I’ve become ridiculously superstitious. Part of me thinks that if I even dare to think about my birthday, it will bring destruction raining down on us.

  “Wren, for my sake, please believe that this birthday is something to celebrate, not fear.”

  “I’m not afraid of my birthday,” I snap, my tone touchier than I intended. “I’m afraid I won’t make it that far.”

  “Do you remember what I told you?”

  I frown.

  “You’ve told me a lot of things.”

  “Then remember only this: I will not spend forever without you, and I will not allow anything to separate us, save your wish for it.”

  “I would never—”

  He smiles and shakes his head.

  “Just, please—have mercy on me and tell me what you would like to do to celebrate, because I will not grant you a reprieve this year. No quiet dinner at home with your mom and an elderly neighbor to mark your eighteenth birthday.”

  “Hey! Last year was great, and Mr. Hannigan is younger than you are,” I tease.

  And it’s true. In his mid-eighties, our next-door neighbor is several millennia younger than Ever. I sit up straight, grinning.

  “Besides, in case you hadn’t noticed, thanks to the freakish number of make-up days from that snowstorm in February, my birthday now falls on the same day as senior prom, so … Problem solved! No need for a party—it’s already taken care of.”

  “Wren …”

  I lean forward and kiss him.

  “Okay, okay. This. I would like to do this,” I say, imitating his formal articulation.

  Ever looks thoughtful as his fingers begin tracing my collarbone.

  “I have no argument with that, but it is your eighteenth birthday we’ll be celebrating …”

  “And what does that mean?” I ask breathlessly.

  “It means this past year has been the longest in my existence.”

  His hands whisper across my arms, skimming past my waist before settling on my hips as he leans forward. His lips touch the skin of my neck lightly. Then his mouth is on mine, and it feels like I’m on fire. When his hands tighten and pull me toward him, I gasp. Ever growls my name, and then his lips are on mine again. He pulls me forward as his lips part mine. The surge of fire that rushes through me is instantaneous. As I wind my arms around him, our kiss deepens, his tongue tracing the inside of my upper lip. My head begins spinning from lack of air, and I manage to pull back, feeling dazed and warm.

  “Wow,” I gasp. “That was … Wow.”

  As I open my eyes, it takes a second for the look of shock on Ever’s face to register.

  “What? Why are you looking at me like I have two heads?”

  “Do you feel well?”

  I think about it for a second. My pulse is hammering, I’m still flushed, and it feels like I’m floating, but that’s pretty normal after kissing Ever. On the other hand, he hasn’t let it get that intense before. He’s usually the one to stop before we’ve even reached a PG-13 rating.

  “Yes, I feel well,” I laugh. “Better than well. … Wait. Why?”

  Ever picks me up and sets me on the ground before reaching into my purse on the table behind me. He hands me my compact, but before I can even look at my reflection, I see my hand. It’s shimmering.

  “What the?!”

  It looks like I’ve been sprinkled with pixie dust. I’m glowing.

  “Seriously? Am I going to sprout wings next?”

  Bolting toward the stairs, I take them two at a time, and when I reach the top, I stare into the mirror. I still look like me, mostly. Just glowing, like I’m about to fly off to Neverland. And suddenly the real panic sets in. We were supposed to leave five minutes ago to meet my mom—and her new boyfriend. When I see Ever in the mirror behind me, I turn to face him in a panic.

  “What am I going to do? I can’t go out like this!”

  “It will be fine. Trust me.”

  “Are you kidding? How can it be fine? I look like someone just dunked me into a vat of body glitter!”

  He looks guilty—like he somehow knew this was going to happen—but he also looks certain of what he just told me.

  “No one human will notice,” he says pointedly.

  “Are you sure?”

  “There’s one way to find out.”

  I snort.

  “That is not comforting.”

  Ever takes my hand and leads me downstairs where I rush to put on my shoes and grab a jacket. As soon as we’re outside, I see Mr. Hannigan sitting on his front porch. I wave self-consciously.

  “Never see you without that beau of yours these days,” he calls. “Young man, you’d better be treating my girl like a princess.”

  “Always,” Ever smiles as he opens the car door for me.

  I get in and exhale as I buckle my seatbelt. I don’t have to worry about being late; Ever will make up the time. And I’m relieved that Mr. Hannigan didn’t say anything like, “Have you been exposed to radiation lately?”

  Now all I have to worry about is meeting my mom’s new boyfriend.

  I barely notice the turns in the road as I look out the window. We’re already climbing into the West Hills. It’s cloudy today, but not raining. Still, this doesn’t mean that water won’t fall from the sky later. Shaking my head, I take a few seconds to appreciate the winding two-lane road we’re on, the untamed green around us. It makes me wonder how long it will last, or whether this will all be housing tracts and big box stores someday. Will this two-lane country road lined by trees someday be a four-lane thoroughfare with a tame grassy median, like the ones near my dad’s house?

  Wincing, I instantly regret thinking of my time in Southern California. Because I can’t think of Southern California without thinking of him. In my peripheral vision, I see Ever glance in my direction. It’s not because he knows what I’m thinking. It’s because he doesn’
t. My boyfriend not knowing what I was thinking used to be a rare occurrence—until I developed some control over what Ever sees in my mind. I can’t shield my thoughts all the time, but during the brief moments when I can’t help thinking of Alex, my mind remains invisible to Ever, which is empowering … and scary.

  While I like having my privacy, being able to sever my connection to Ever at will is strange. And it makes me feel guilty. Mostly because my best guess as to why I can hide my thoughts is Alex himself—that somehow my feelings for him permanently altered my connection to Ever.

  I wonder, though. Do my thoughts seem like bad radio reception to Ever, coming in and out randomly? He said a long time ago that it bothered him not to hear my thoughts, but I don’t think it was purely selfish on his part. It helps him know that I’m safe, and that I’m still me. Rather than something else—more specifically a being from his dimension—in my body.

  “Are you worried about meeting Caroline’s boyfriend?” he asks finally.

  I nod as I realize that maybe it’s better that my mom surprised me, rather than giving me too much time to think about brunch with her new boyfriend.

  Since Ever also has more difficulty following my thoughts when I’m scared or insanely freaked out, I’m in luck right now—because I have the perfect reason to be freaking out. Glowing like a fairy isn’t cool. And meeting my mom’s new boyfriend while I’m glowing like a fairy? That’s about an eleven on the stress-o-meter.

  Glancing at the speedometer, I force myself not to flinch as I remind myself for the millionth time that Ever is not going to kill us. Well, he’s not going to kill me, more accurately. He may be impervious to everything on this Earth, but he knows I’m not. Unlike him, I can die. When we leave the winding turns of the back roads, Ever’s speed slows considerably. We enter Portland proper, and minutes later, he slides into a space on 23rd. Taking advantage of his more human speed as he walks around to my side in full view of weekend tourists and window shoppers, I step out of the car before he can open my door, which is impossible most of the time.

  Looking up at him, I grin and make my eyebrows dance. Then it registers that Ever’s not even looking at me. He’s staring across the street, his expression surprised—again. Fear creeps through me. Seeing Ever surprised twice in one day isn’t a good thing, and for a few seconds, everything slows down. Adrenaline courses through me, and I turn in the direction he’s staring, expecting to find an army of black-eyed zombies marching toward us. But when I look across the street, all I see is my mom talking to a short man with curly red hair and thick-rimmed glasses.