Jaxen elbows Weldon in the side. He grunts from the blow and looks over at us, wearing a cocky grin. I can’t reciprocate. I’m shaking in my bones, wondering if maybe he really did find my box of secrets. Wondering whose side he’s on… if Clara already knows we’re on to her.
I turn the rest of the way around after Jaxen, counting in my head, telling myself that everything will be okay, despite the awful pit in my stomach telling me otherwise. The general doesn’t look amused by Weldon. But then again, he doesn’t ever really look amused. His ‘faces’ are pretty much always the same, for every type of reaction.
Unreadable. Blank. Stern.
“Well, don’t leave us dawdling on the hem of anticipation’s skirt, sir. We’re all dying to know what you assume you know,” Weldon says animatedly.
My eyes grow wide. Jaxen stiffens next to me. I swear Weldon has a death wish.
The general clears his throat. “You Shadow Walked,” he says bluntly, staring directly at Weldon.
My stomach drops to the floor. I feel like a snowman on a sunny day. I’m stuck, with no way to move. No way to protect myself from the heat of his glare. I’m melting into nothing… melting into the fear that Clara’s going to win before I even got started. That her reach is even further than I thought. That she’s taken this man and bent him until he snapped in half and became hers.
The general continues speaking, and with every word that leaves his mouth, I think I shrink further and further into a well of emotions that are stirring up my insides.
“As you all know, this is a matter that’s not taken lightly within this city. You’ve been granted special sanctioning to even be permitted in this city, and yet you spit on it.”
“If you’re speaking in metaphorical terms, then maybe,” Weldon says, seeming unfazed even when my world is crashing down around me. “Because I haven’t technically spit on anything.”
The general levels his gaze on Weldon. “Don’t blow this chance, Weldon.” The way he says it is so personal, even a little sympathetic. Like he knows, maybe even relates to, Weldon’s misfortunes, and it makes me think that maybe I’m worrying for nothing. “You’re walking a thin line as it is being half-demon.”
Weldon jerks his head back in offense. “Of course you’d throw that out there. As if I didn’t know. Like I didn’t see the probing gazes of every jackass quartered up in our so-called “holy” city. This place reeks of hypocrisy.”
The general’s forehead tightens, and I want to step in front of Weldon. This is my fault. I caused this. I opened this door.
“Even so, it’s our way of life, and these minuscule details can’t be overlooked. Even the most unjust ones,” he says pointedly. “I never said I was a kind teacher. Just a good one.”
Weldon snorts under his breath, the sound scraping away the reserved look on the general’s face. “Well, I’ll let you know when I actually need to learn something. You Elites and your precious city… you all think this is what life’s about. What the Coven crams down your throat is truth. Boy, are you mistaken.”
I wait for the general to lash out for Weldon’s insubordination, but he doesn’t say a word. He locks his gaze on Weldon, and they start some kind of staring contest that neither is willing to back down from. The general’s hand rests over his gun. Weldon eyes it, but he still doesn’t back down.
“It was my idea. I forced him into it,” I say quickly, before my rationality has a chance to talk me out of it.
“Faye,” Weldon says cuttingly.
The general’s looking at me now. He tilts his head, thoughtful, swallowing my words. Exactly what I want. “I dragged him into it,” I continue, charming his attention on me. “He hasn’t “spit” on anything. He was just trying to be a good partner to me. Just like you instructed us to do.”
“Stupidity’s often mistaken for bravery,” the general responds in a clipped tone.
I flinch back at the insult, my mouth opening and closing more than I’d like it to. A retort would be stupid, brave even, and that’s exactly his point. I need to think.
The general’s hands fall back to his sides. “According to Seamus, you’re supposed to be showing this Coven that you’re one of us. That you don’t place yourself above anyone else.”
“I don’t place myself above anyone,” I say, confused by how he could think otherwise.
His brow quirks up. “Then why do you think you’re above the rules? You’ve broken three that I know of.” He starts rattling them off, using his fingers to count them up. “Elites have a curfew. That’s one broken. Elites aren’t to leave Ethryeal City until after they have completed training. That’s two. Elites are never to use another for their own advantage. That’s three. Shall I continue?”
I think my stomach has lost its bottom. “No, sir,” I say evenly.
“I’m not going to ask you what you were up to. I don’t want to know,” the general says, tucking his hands back behind his back. “But what I will say is this—whatever you think you’ll find… whatever proof you’re looking for… even if you did find it, it won’t end well. Eyes are everywhere in this city.” He looks around the rooftop, and a small smile hitches the crook of his mouth. “Well, almost everywhere.”
I feel naked. Totally and completely.
This whole time, I never escaped her. I never got away from the prying eyes. Looking to Weldon and Jaxen, I see in their gazes that we’re all thinking the same thing. Does he know what we know about Clara? And if so, how?
“And your point is…?” Weldon drags out.
“Don’t bite off more than you can chew. That is all.”
He walks past us and disappears into the stairwell, leaving us standing on the roof with our mouths hanging open. The silence between us is filled with so many unspoken questions, so many theories that yearn for life.
“If he knows, then who else does?” Jaxen finally says. His panic hides well behind the steadiness of his tone.
Weldon exhales. Drags a hand through his hair. “Shit. Shit, shit, shit.”
“It’ll be okay,” I say, not knowing if I even believe the words myself. “High Priest Seamus will help us.”
“He can’t help us if Clara’s caught on to what we were doing,” Weldon points out. He turns and puts his hands against the wall, hanging his head. “This is just perfect.”
“Don’t think like that. We have to stay positive,” I say, wrapping my arms around myself. “She can’t know. If she did, she would have done something about it already. Maybe that was just his way of warning us.”
Jaxen doesn’t move. I’m not sure he’s even breathing as he stares out over the city.
I want to leave this city. I want to run until I can’t anymore… run further than Clara’s eyes can reach. “She’s never going to stop,” I mutter out in disgust. “Not unless we stop her.”
Jaxen rubs his hand up the side of my arm until he’s gripping my shoulders. “I know.”
I turn to face him. “She’s stolen my privacy and invaded my personal space one too many times.”
He exhales, looking so defeated. “Come on. Let’s get the general’s lessons over with. I told Seamus we’d be there after class. Hopefully, the simulations won’t take that long.”
Weldon pushes off the wall. His eyes are churning again in anger. “We better not keep him waiting then.” He pulls the door open.
We follow after, and I don’t think I’ve ever been more prepared for anything in my life. The general, Clara, and everyone else thinks I’m scared. They think I’m held back by love, but they can’t be further from the truth. Love is my motivation. It’s what drives me, and I don’t mind handing it the steering wheel. Rationality is overrated. I intend to show them I am more than a sad, helpless little girl.
I intend to prove them wrong.
SEAMUS LOOKS UP FROM THE desk the minute we cross the threshold to his office, and a warm smile comes over his face. “I was wondering when you three would get here. I was beginning to think you had backed out of telli
ng me whatever it is you wanted to tell me that was so urgent.”
“Sorry,” Jaxen says as he pulls a chair out across from Seamus for me to sit in. He and Weldon take the chairs on either side of me. “The general wanted us to tackle our weaknesses today, and, well, you know how that goes.”
Seamus’ eyebrow quirks up. His gaze flits between the three of us evenly. “So, what is it you wanted to show me?”
With a deep breath, I lean forward and set my Grimoire on his desk. I flip to the page where my mother’s note is, and then say the spell to show the words written. After they appear, I push the Grimoire toward him and lean back, letting her note do the talking for us. I swear a decade passes before he leans away from the Grimoire. His face bears no emotion.
He gets up from his desk. “Come with me.”
After I grab my Grimoire, we follow him out of his office, none of us knowing what to expect. I can only hope we made the right decision in trusting him. Doubt sneaks up on me, appearing around every corner we take. It isn’t until we’re in the stairwell that I know where he’s taking us. To the roof.
“We can’t be heard up here,” he says the minute we make it out onto the middle of the roof. “The area is too vast and open for a listening spell to adhere to.”
“I think that’s what the general was implying before we met with you, Sir,” Jaxen says, standing firm.
Seamus cuts to the chase. “Who else knows of this?”
“No one,” I say surely.
“And what are your intentions?”
I match his solemn gaze. “To have her confined. She has to pay for what she’s done,” I say, feeling my internal thermostat rising.
“What evidence do you have?” he asks coolly.
I look down to my Grimoire.
“That won’t be enough, Miss. Middleton. Not for the Priesthood. Not when she has almost half under her conniving thumbs.”
“All we need is a little more time. If you can confine her, then we can finish the investigation and bring you the proof,” Weldon says quickly.
“And where is this proof?” Seamus asks, looking between us.
“In the warehouse my mother spoke of,” I say, trying not to think about the night before. About how close we all came to death.
We all see the small amount of give on Seamus’ face, and Jaxen jumps on the opportunity to reel him in where we need him. “Send an Elite team,” he suggests. “Contain her without warning, and send the team to the warehouse at the same time so she doesn’t have time to prepare. The evidence will be there.”
Seamus pulls in a tight breath. “And if it isn’t?” he asks, seeming unsure. “She will not take lightly to this very public accusation, Jaxen. She’ll want your heads to roll for this.”
I don’t care about the outcome—this has to be done. “She won’t win this,” I say confidently. “You have to trust us.”
Seamus exhales, and I think that maybe we can sway him. Maybe he’s going to take our side. But then he asks, “And in the meantime? What about the Holy Seal? That’s your number-one priority, Miss. Middleton. Not taking on half of the Priesthood. A countless number of lives are being lost day in and day out. The war against the Primevals has surely begun, and the Darkyns have the advantage. This is all riding on you. These lives are all hanging on your next move.”
“Then why haven’t you done something about it?” Jaxen asks, sounding like he’s barely hanging on to his temper. “Why are you letting our brethren die day in and day out with no relief?”
Seamus looks at me. “Because the relief rests with her, Jaxen. We can’t stop the Darkyns until we take their source of power away—the Exanimator—and we can’t do that until she drops the Veil so we can cross into the Underground. We’re betting all our chips on her.”
My reasons for taking Clara down as an important goal twirl down an endless drain. I know that what I say next has to be spot on. It has to be exact if I’m going to get him to commit to this, and it has to come from me.
No more hiding.
“Excuse me for being frank, Sir, but this is just as important as the seal,” I say with as much confidence as I have available. “Clara has her hands in the wrong melting pot, and once I break this seal, it will put her one step closer into doing whatever it is she is conspiring to do. She’s clearly working with the Darkyns. That much, my parents paid their lives for. It’s up to us to stop her before she brings this entire Coven down with her.”
He rubs his chin. My heart picks up in speed. “If I agree to this, there will be no turning back,” he says solemnly.
“I know,” I say quietly, strongly. “I don’t want to go back.”
A second passes. Seamus’ shoulders slouch a little. “Okay,” he relents.
I stare at him for a moment, repeating what he said just to make sure I heard it right.
“I’ll get a team together and set the takedown for the end of the week. In the meantime, I want you to pour your focus into your training. Let me handle Clara. Do we have a deal?”
He sticks his hand out.
I take it and shake, feeling for once that something is finally heading in the direction I want it to.
I THINK I’VE DISCOVERED WHAT it feels like to fly.
I feel that high, that weightless, knowing that we’re so close to seeing revenge on Clara. This entire week, since our secret meeting with Seamus on the rooftop, has passed painfully slow. Almost to the point where I began to think that time was just messing with me, like it was punishing me for being so greedy and wanting it to go faster.
I did as Seamus asked and submerged myself completely into training with the general. I even managed to get a good job from him after my fourth time in a simulation with Weldon. We were able to get through it successfully, working together as a team.
Since that night on the dockside, I’ve felt a change in myself, like I finally know how strong I am. Or maybe it’s that I’m no longer afraid to admit it. I no longer want to hide behind being weak just because it makes it easier should I let them down.
Because I don’t plan on failing.
Jezi and Jaxen have worked through their issues enough to finally complete their fear simulations. In a way, I’m glad Jaxen isn’t my partner. I’m glad that I didn’t take that away from her, even though we’re connected somehow, because they do work well together, and I’m afraid that I wouldn’t have the strength to be the partner I should be if it were Jaxen by my side.
He just doesn’t get me the way Weldon does. Not my darker side.
A couple of times during the week, I tried to corner Seamus to ask about his plans with Clara. He never offered a word.
So now it’s Saturday… the day it’s all supposed to go down, and I can barely keep my head on straight. The general’s making us run through close-quarter combat drills with another class full of Elites. We’re focusing on wrestling and jujitsu techniques that help in hand-to-hand combat when weapons are gone and your partner isn’t close enough.
I’m paired against a female with black hair and blue eyes. She seems nice enough… maybe even easy, but as soon as the general blows the whistle, she starts throwing punches and leg kicks that make my shins scream. She’s taunting me under her breath, telling me to bring it.
I get her in the side with a jab, following up with a punch to the jaw, but she expects it and ducks, sweeping out my legs in the process. She pins me down by the neck, straddling my waist. “Give,” she says, wearing a victorious smile.
I knee her in the back and roll, pinning her down. “Give,” I repeat, choking her.
She uses her arms to maneuver out of my chokehold, punching me in the side again and again and again. I try to block, but she’s using her magic to put extra force into each blow, and I refuse to call her out on it even though we aren’t supposed to be using magic for this session.
I don’t want to look like a sissy.
She lands another punch against my jaw and I’m knocked back against the mat again, reaching out for any
thing I can grab onto. Pain is stabbing me in so many places, and I’m trying to focus on the adrenaline and not the awful scratching feeling coming from inside me. The need to drain her of all life.
With a growl, I grab onto her hair and shove her off as hard as I can. Kicking her in the back, I lunge after her when her face slams against the mat. She rolls onto her back, blood coating the edges of her mouth, and smacks me across the face so hard I accidently bite down on my tongue.
When I can finally see straight, I see Clara instead of the girl.
I see red.
The next thing I know, I’m being pulled off her with blood staining my hands, the mat, and our clothes. I broke her nose, and I didn’t stop. Not even after it broke. Not even after she yelled ‘give’ until she couldn’t yell anymore.
Or so they’re telling me.
Commotion fills the room as the other Elites start talking smack to my friends. The air grows warm and heavy with a need to fight, and the only thing keeping a massive one from breaking out is the general’s presence on the mat.
“It was a fair fight,” he shouts out over top of the loud bickering. “Abigail used her magic on Faye. When you cheat, karma will find you.”
“She’s an animal!” one of the other Elites shouts out. “She broke Abi’s nose! She’s supposed to be this divine creature who’s going to end the Darkyn threat, and yet, all I see is a lunatic who can’t control her rage.”
Jaxen and Weldon bow up. The general holds his hand out, halting them. “As I said, Abigail broke the rules. She used her magic and fought dirty. If you have an issue with Faye, then I suggest you take it up with her.”
The Elite doesn’t move; nor do any of them, their eyes falling on me. Fear is written in their gazes, and I don’t know if it disgusts me or thrills me.
“I didn’t think so,” the general says, and then he excuses us to learn meditation.
“You did good,” Jaxen says as we head out.
“I lost control,” I admit.
Evernight (The Night Watchmen Series Book 2) Page 24