by C. J. Valles
“I don’t, you know.”
I shake my head at his statement.
“Huh?”
“You were thinking I must have better things to do than watch you sleep. I don’t. I have other things I could be doing. But most of the time spent before I found you was infinitely less pleasant.”
He opens the car door, and I get in.
“That’s sad,” I say softly, looking over at him when he appears in the driver’s seat. “I guess it has to be a little strange to have an endless amount of time on your hands.”
“I’ve never known anything different.”
I nod and make a silent decision.
“I want to know more … about what things were like before you came here, what your dimension was like. I just have these bits and pieces, and that’s it. I know you don’t like talking about it, but I’m in the middle of this, and I need some answers. You know, before the next freaking crisis hits—sorry. It’s just—”
“No, you’re right,” he says softly. “Even if I want to protect you from it, you have every right to ask me any question you need answered.”
“It’s not just that. You know everything about me, and there’s still all this stuff I don’t know about you. … I don’t know if I’ll ever truly understand it.”
He reaches out and touches my cheek.
“Wren, I learn something new about you every day.”
Looking out the window, I realize the car has stopped. We’re at school already. Leaning over, I kiss Ever quickly and then jump out of the car. As I walk toward class, I avoid worrying by concentrating on the pleasant part of last night … before I found myself crying in front of an empty mirror.
Thinking about Ever’s hands touching my skin and his lips pressed against mine, I look around, suddenly and insanely relieved that he is the only one in the world capable of reading my mind. For all of the my-life-is-in-peril craziness, I can enjoy these moments with Ever—while they’re happening … and then the memories after. His kiss, his touch. Suddenly a hand wraps around my waist, and before I know it I’m standing in a darkened classroom with Ever staring down at me. The look in his eyes makes my stomach flip as he pulls me deeper into the room, and I gasp when he lifts me onto a high counter at the back of the room. His mouth comes down on mine, his lips parting mine gently. A current of pure, overwhelming desire courses through me, and I blink as Ever slowly pulls back, his eyes burning into mine. I know he doesn’t need the oxygen, but his breathing is still just as ragged as mine.
“Now I know how a drop of water must taste to a man dying of thirst,” he says in a low voice. “Keep in mind, Wren. I have limits. And I don’t have enough willpower for you to torment me all day.”
“Torment you?” I ask innocently, wrapping my legs around him. “What happened to being in control of your emotions?”
It’s still a strange rush knowing that I can torment Ever. I don’t want to make him suffer, but if he’s feeling even a tenth of what I’m feeling …
“I’m feeling much more than a tenth of what you’re feeling,” he says, running his fingers lightly up and down my arms.
I shiver at his touch, and my eyes drifts closed.
“Look at me,” Ever whispers.
When I open my eyes, his expression is guarded, careful. I gasp when I see a four-poster bed covered in fluffy white linens. The image sharpens—and I see the two of us kissing as Ever carries me toward the bed. I recognize this place. It’s the island in the Maldives. When I blink, the image disappears, but I still feel the hunger, a clawing need that I’m not sure is Ever’s or mine. An instant later, his lips are on mine again, seeking and urgent. Then the bell rings, and Ever carefully lifts me from the counter onto the ground. My legs are unsteady, and I can’t seem to get my breathing back to normal as he leads me toward the door.
“Now you have a small taste for how I’m feeling.”
He disappears, and I smirk, my cheeks still flushed. Nice. Out of breath and dazed—what a great way to start first period. Walking toward class, I think of the fragment I just saw in his mind. Was that the future?
***
At the end of the week, I’m in my room—alone—when I hear a knock at the front door. Hearing my mom walking from the kitchen, I panic and jump off my bed, running toward the stairs. Then I slow down, realizing that if trouble were coming, Ever would already be here. At least I hope he would.
“Audra!” my mom says brightly. “It’s so good to see you. Are you back for the summer already?”
“I flew in just a few days ago.”
Reaching the landing, I look down at Audra and realize that I have to pretend I haven’t seen her in ages, when it was really only a few days ago that she popped into the bathroom at school to lecture me about Victor.
“Audra!”
I rush down the stairs, and as I reach out to hug her, I think about our strange, conflicted relationship. At this time last year, she—however briefly—wanted me dead. Granted, at the time, she thought that the enemy had taken Ever. And, in her mind, I had been the cause. Fortunately, she never got the opportunity to kill me.
Our relationship, which had been getting better, has been strained, at best, since then. But there’s no sense in letting my mom know that. The deterioration in our friendship makes me sad. A year ago, I had very cautiously considered her a friend, a running buddy—and maybe even a potential sister in my more hopeful moments. But that was then, before she had thought about killing me.
“A run for old time’s sake?” she smiles.
Finally it dawns on me that Audra is wearing running clothes, and I nod, trying to keep the smile on my face.
“I’ll go get changed.”
Turning to go back upstairs, I think of everyone as chess pieces. Ever. Alex. Audra. Chasen. Alistair and Persephone. The Four Horsemen. Victor. Me. I thought I knew who was on whose side. Now? Is it all of us against Victor and his minions? Or are we all on our own teams? And if it came down to it, would Audra destroy me? Would I give up everything for Ever … for Alex? How far would I go to protect my friends and family from this other world?
As soon as I’m dressed in black leggings and a fleece, I walk back downstairs where Audra is talking to my mom in the kitchen.
“Ready?” I smile.
When we walk outside, I look across the street and see an ostentatious red convertible. Clearly Audra upgraded her ride recently.
“Wren, I accept that you may never be able to truly understand how angry I am with him,” she says as we start to jog.
I shake my head.
“Wait. Back up. I don’t get it. Angry with Ever?”
She nods. All this time, I had assumed that it was me she was angry with. I look up at the sky, noticing that there isn’t any water hitting us, which means that Audra’s nifty little time-stopping force field can also function as an open-air—as in I can still breathe—umbrella.
“He didn’t tell us anything, Wren!” Audra says more vehemently than I expect. “He let me assume the worst. He should have told us what he was planning. He had never done that before …” She glances at me. “Before you.”
“You’re talking about last year?” I ask, feeling daft. “You’ve been angry with Ever for the past year?”
She meets my eye.
“Think about a second in time and how long it feels to you.”
“Okay?” I frown.
“To me, that is how a year passes.”
“Wow.”
Her expression changes, her eyes becoming brighter.
“Wren, I thought I had lost him, and I very well may be angry with Ever for the rest of our existence.”
“I’m sorry, Audra. Really. I hadn’t thought about it that way before.”
“No! You silly girl. That is what I have been trying to say. I am sorry. Can you forgive me?”
“For trying to kill me?”
She rolls her eyes.
“Trying? No, no. For wanting to kill you, only for that brief moment.
If I had truly made up my mind to kill you, then we would not be having this conversation,” she says mildly. “Besides, Chasen would have stopped me if he had thought you were in danger.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Of course. He would never let me make a thoughtless error. And he is very fond of you, you know,” she says in a tone that makes it clear she thinks I’m being dense. “Believe it or not, I am fond of you as well, which is quite impressive. It took centuries before Persephone and I warmed to each other.”
“Centuries?” I gulp.
“I found it difficult to become accustomed to such a nurturing human personality. You and I are more alike.”
I squint, searching my mind for a single way that Audra and I are alike.
“We are?”
“We are warriors, not mothers. You shall see. Now, will you forgive me?”
My head is spinning, but I nod.
“Good,” she says with satisfaction. “It is critical that we are on the same side for what is to come.”
“And what’s that?”
“Darkness.”
We continue jogging in silence, and by the time we get back to my house, Ever is leaning against his car. Audra gives me a small smile and departs without a word to Ever. As I walk toward him, I realize that I’m mad at Alex for the same reason Audra has been angry at Ever.
Still, Audra only thought she had lost Ever. I watched Alex give himself up with no way to stop him.
Audra wanted to kill me because she thought Ever had sacrificed himself for me, but Alex did sacrifice himself. How should I feel? And that is the biggest problem. I don’t know what I’m feeling—other than confused. I realize that part of me keeps wishing that I could snap my fingers or click my heels and become the unerring, unwavering, gritty heroine from a dystopian future who wields a shotgun with ease and doesn’t need anything from anyone. And I keep coming back to the same conclusion: then I wouldn’t be me. My emotions are what make me me.
10: The Path to Hell
Normal is something I thought I wanted for the longest time. More accurately, I wanted to be normal. I’m not talking about the mind reading. I’m talking about me. Freshman year, I remember wishing so hard that I could just fit in. I wished that I were popular. I wished that guys would notice me. Then, as my parents’ marriage finally imploded, I wished for things to go back to the way they were when I was a little kid.
Now that I’ve taken a flying leap into the paranormal, I’ve decided: screw normal. If I had really wanted normal, I could have gone out with Josh. And if I had wanted popularity—or infamy, I could have hooked up with Jeff Summers. Instead, I chose door number three: Ever. And I would do it again and again.
Things that had seemed so shiny and tempting when I was younger, like popularity, now seem worthless. If I had somehow managed to gain acceptance from Emily Michaels and her pack of mean girls, who would I be now? Would I be cutting down other people—people like my friend Matt—simply because they didn’t fit into my preconceived ideas of normal? That would make me a hypocrite.
In a lot of ways, I’m on the outside, but I can accept it. Being an outsider frees me to make my own decisions, love those I want to love, and not live my life wondering if I’m making the choices others would make. The way I see it, the right choice—for me—may not be the popular one.
It’s early Saturday afternoon, and Audra and I are jogging for a second time in a week, this time in Forest Park. It’s like the good old days—me out of breath and sweaty and Audra looking perfect. Under a canopy of trees, it’s darker and greener here. I stumble slightly on the uneven terrain as we trudge uphill. I’m struggling. My black pants are already marred with mud, yet hers seem impervious. I take a gasping breath, hoping that my running form will one day resemble hers—effortless. Unlike me, she doesn’t need the exercise. I glance over at her, wondering if what I’m about to ask her is going to sink our newly mended friendship, if it can be called that.
“Okay, so I need to know—if I got possessed, would I remember who I was?” I blurt.
She looks over at me.
“Chasen or I would destroy you before that happened.”
The way she says it is so simple, and I have to force myself not to flinch. I should have expected her response. And I know why—because they know Ever wouldn’t be able to kill me if it came down to it.
“All right. From a hypothetical standpoint,” I say, altering my strategy.
She looks me over more carefully this time, like she’s wondering if I’m about to go offer to become a corridor for inter-dimensional foot traffic.
“If you were taken against your will, there would be very little left of your cognizant mind. You would merely be a dull instrument. This is not what the other side seeks. They want your full potential, which requires your consent.”
“So what would happen if I agreed?”
Audra gives me a sharp look.
“Hypothetically,” I remind her.
“If you accepted Victor willingly, your mind and body would become very powerful, but you would remain a pawn, at the will of whatever he chose to inhabit you. You would remember elements from your life, but you would ultimately be trapped. Indefinitely.”
“What about the thing that’s dating my mom?”
“As Alistair said, he is mostly human, but also immortal thanks to what inhabits him.”
“Then what did I see over the weekend? The human or the puppet master?”
“Both.”
I shake my head.
“At the same time?”
“The human is complicit.”
Complicit. Which means that they need a willing participant. I slow to a walk as I think about what it would take for me to give myself up knowing what I know now. When I took Alex’s hand and stepped through the mirror, I wasn’t sure what to expect—and it turned out that the glimmer of hope I had held onto was justified. But if I gave myself up now, I would betray Ever and possibly tip the balance in a war that could end this world.
Suddenly it feels like it’s all balanced on me, like the other side is just waiting for me to falter and give in. Deep down, I’m afraid that I might give myself up—if I thought it would save my family and friends. The only problem with that solution is that I know too much. I know that if the other side wins, the people closest to me would ultimately suffer. What would they become if Victor takes this world? Slaves to a race of beings addicted to waste and consumption?
My mind flashes to Alex, wounded and trapped on the other side of the mirror. What is he to me? Friend? Enemy? Someone I love, whether it’s right or wrong?
“Audra?”
She looks at me and frowns as I concentrate every bit of strength I have to keep my mental wall impenetrable and Ever-proof, if there even is such a thing.
“I need your help,” I say finally.
She sighs.
“You wish to go after the traitor,” she says flatly.
“He saved me,” I whisper, looking away and smiling at a pair of women passing us.
When we’re alone again, I risk a glance at Audra.
“Wren, do not make the mistake of thinking of anything Iago—”
“Alex!”
“Regardless, do not think of what he did as altruism. We are not altruistic creatures.”
I take a deep breath.
“This is about me and my own selfish need not to feel guilty forever and ever.”
“You humans and your overdeveloped consciences.”
I snort.
“Don’t pretend like you don’t have a conscience. His name is Chasen.”
Considering Chasen most likely wanted to kill me when he first laid eyes on me, the fact that he may have stopped Audra from killing me is really saying something.
“Take that back!” she growls.
“You said Chasen wouldn’t let you make an impulsive decision you might regret. That makes him your conscience,” I remind her.
She levels her gaze on
me.
“Fair enough. Now, tell me. Are you truly willing to betray Ever—”
“How is it betraying Ever to save someone who did the same for me?!”
“I think that is quite clear—by risking yourself for someone you can’t trust. Are you sure you want to choose this path? Because if you’re not sure, there is no point in discussing it.”
Doubt floods me. Every decision I’ve made recently hasn’t only affected me; it’s carried with it the weight of hurting someone else. I thought I was liberated from other people’s expectations by accepting the fact that I’m an outsider. But it still doesn’t grant me a reprieve if I hurt the ones I love.
And that includes Alex. Whether he is my future or my past, whether I loved him for one second or a million years, I owe it to him to bring him back.
“Yes. I’m sure.”
“Then say nothing. Do not think of it. Do not ask questions. Simply wait. Do you understand me?”
“But how will I—”
“Did you hear what I said?” she hisses.
I nod.
“Good.”
She starts jogging the last half-mile back to Chasen’s enormous black SUV. When I try to catch up with her, she’s moving too fast—like she wishes she could simply leave me here. I know that what I just asked her is a betrayal of the deepest kind. But would it be better, though, to betray myself and try to believe that I don’t care about what happens to Alex?
It’s a good thing that most of the way back is downhill, because by the time I climb into the passenger seat, I’m exhausted from trying to keep up with my long-legged immortal bodyguard, who I’m sure hates me all over again. I can’t say I like myself much right now, either.
I remember my mom said once—during a particularly brutal fight with my dad—that the road to hell is paved with good intentions. This was after he finally came clean and told her about his affair with Jessica, my vapid stepmom. I guess he thought he was sparing my mom by lying. Actually, I didn’t need to guess. I had seen it in his eyes. But beneath his good intentions was his basic desire to avoid having to face up to his actions.