Ever (The Ever Series Book 4)

by C. J. Valles

  They are remarkable, and it’s easy to see that the only place they belong is beside Ever … which makes me feel even more inconsequential than I did a second ago.

  I frown at Wren’s assessment as she studies them, their images reflected in her mind with startling accuracy.

  She could be Ever’s sister—and the guy with her looks seriously pissed off.

  Rising from my seat across from Wren, I move to the seat beside her and wait with my arm stretched behind her, prepared to shift with her if necessary. When Wren turns to look for me, she jumps when she finds my previous location vacant, her head swiveling until she has found me again. Breathing out, she looks down at my arm before noticing Audra and Chasen standing across from us.

  “It’s been too long,” Audra says.

  I nod at her witticism, maintaining an inscrutable expression as I gesture to the chair I recently vacated. Audra takes a seat, her grace unmatched, while Chasen remains where he is. I feel the terror running through Wren as she avoids making eye contact with the others.

  “You must be Wren. We’ve heard so little about you, thanks to him,” Audra says lightly. I frown at her mocking castigation. “I’m Audra.”

  Taking a deep breath, Wren looks my sister in the eye.

  Here’s hoping she doesn’t vaporize me, Wren thinks dryly, perhaps not realizing how close to the mark her silent musing has come.

  I pull her closer, keeping my hand pressed so lightly across her scapulae that she does not feel the slightest pressure. While she notes the preternatural glow of Audra’s eyes, I find it a welcome relief to realize that Wren cannot access Audra’s mind.

  “It’s … interesting to meet you, Audra,” Wren offers cautiously.

  Audra studies Wren a moment longer before laughing.

  “You’ll have to forgive my amusement, for it’s not often that Ever has been so far wide of the mark. All this trouble for nothing. Shame on you,” she chides me with humorous relief.

  My jaw tightens, and Wren frowns as she recognizes the insult. Chasen grunts, his anger at my deception coloring his every movement.

  “I’m glad you find it so entertaining that he’s putting at risk everything we’ve worked for,” he snaps at Audra, ignoring me altogether. “For this.”

  When Chasen steps forward and extends his hand across the table toward Wren, I remain completely still, waiting for him to withdraw. I have no wish to send Chasen flying across a room full of curious adolescents.

  “Wren, is it? I’m Chasen. So pleased to make your acquaintance.”

  Wren looks into his eyes, frozen by his gaze. I feel her trying to extract herself from the pull he is exerting, but she cannot. When her hand rises from the table and reaches toward his, my patience reaches its end.

  “Enough,” I warn, my speech too low and fast for human ears.

  When Chasen smiles, challenging me, I return his smile.

  “Touch her, and I’ll take that arm,” I tell him loud enough for Wren to hear.

  Wincing at the tenor my speech has taken in the presence of those who I have claimed to be my allies, Wren blinks and looks down at her hand as she withdraws the appendage.

  Feels like I just willingly offered my hand to a venomous snake.

  “I’d like to see you try,” Chasen says mildly.

  They have me at a disadvantage, and I must be prepared for the worst. Pulling Wren’s chair until it is flush with mine, I prepare to disappear with her, consequences be damned.

  “Chasen, you are spoiling our reunion,” Audra says sternly, perhaps recognizing my willingness to abandon all I value for what they see as an insignificant human girl.

  Audra studies Wren as Chasen takes a step back.

  “Ever, we would take it as an act of goodwill if you would bring your young lady friend to the house. Alistair will want to meet her.”

  I nod my assent. On the whole, Alistair and Persephone are certainly less prone to violence. I feel Wren sinking lower in her seat.

  So much for them disappearing now that they’ve confirmed my insignificance, she thinks.

  “Wren, thank you for keeping my brother so entertained,” Audra smiles.

  Clearly Audra believes after all this time among humans I have found myself a human pet, which reaffirms that my concealment of Wren’s true nature has been successful.

  As I watch those with whom I have suffered both slavery and war depart the cafeteria, I realize that not even those closest to me can possibly understand what I feel for this young girl.

  11: First Kiss

  I watch Wren closely, waiting for her to take a breath. At last, she shakes her head and inhales. It is no surprise that she feels demoralized upon meeting Audra and Chasen; however, it was unavoidable. Bringing my fingers beneath her chin, I gently raise Wren’s face until her eyes meet mine. A rush of stimuli overwhelms her senses, and her eyes begin to dart around the cafeteria.

  “Are you all right?” I ask carefully.

  She nods and takes another breath.

  “I just thought … I guess I thought it was only you.”

  She shakes her head again.

  How can I explain that up until now Ever had, in a strange way, felt like mine, my secret? That we had shared something just between the two of us? Only, in reality, I’ve been his secret, one he’s been keeping from those he truly belongs with.

  I smile sadly. If only she knew how covetous of her company I have become.

  “Would you like to come somewhere with me?”

  Frowning, she glances at the clock on the opposite wall.

  “Fifth starts in fifteen minutes,” she points out.

  “You’re ahead in the reading aren’t you?”

  When she nods, her expression cautious, I smile.

  “And you have an A average in both English and History?”

  Again, she nods with trepidation.

  “Then I think you’ll manage.”

  I stand and watch as she stares up at me with a hesitant expression. Finally she sighs.

  I guess there’s a first time for everything. Ditching. Blacking out and waking up on a tropical island. Falling in love with an immortal.

  My entire being blazes with awareness at her thought as she walks beside me across the cafeteria, and I cannot stop myself from reaching out and taking her hand in mine. The feeling is akin to pain when she pulls free of my grasp upon seeing her friends.

  There’s absolutely no way I’m going to be able to explain this to them—I can’t even explain it to myself.

  We depart without incident, despite Wren’s unvoiced fears that an instructor or administrator will intercept us on the way off campus. As I exit the parking lot, she gasps at the rate of acceleration, but now that she knows exactly what I am, I see no purpose in evasion.

  “I’m not going to crash.”

  She releases her grip on the hand rest and smirks at me.

  “Good to know.”

  She stares out the window as I take the highway west toward Oregon’s coast, focusing on the passing scenery as I watch through her eyes as though for the first time. I suppose I had forgotten how pleasing this place was, and now I feel fortunate to have found its beauty again through her eyes.

  Finally, as we begin to climb in elevation through Tillamook National Forest, she looks over at me, studying my face with an intensity that tempts me to pull off into the trees and pull her from her seat. Biting her lip, Wren turns her gaze back to the windshield, suppressing a yelp when the Maserati easily passes another car. I focus on the road ahead. Wren continues to stare through the windshield as we approach the small inlet of the Pacific Ocean known as Tillamook Bay.

  The lighthouse—a popular tourist destination year-round—is exceptionally quiet today. Two cars sit in the parking lot, their occupants already at the lighthouse. My destination, though, is not one traversable by human means, unless they are willing to employ climbing equipment.

  Pulling into a space in front of the observation deck, I look over at Wre
n before stepping out. When she follows me onto the deck and leans against the railing, I stare out at the white veil of nothingness. Telling Wren of my true nature was far less complicated than the prospect of telling her what I feel for her.

  “Wow,” she whispers.

  Gesturing toward the trees, I begin walking toward the cliff. I pause and look back as she joins me. Her expression is hesitant as she surveys the precipitous drop to her left, and as we begin to walk again, she often loses her balance. I steady her each time, but she remains persistently fearful that she is about to tumble to her death. As we approach the edge of the cliff, I turn.

  “You should close your eyes for this part.”

  She blinks.

  “Are you serious?”

  She looks up at me with a dubious expression before finally closing her eyes. Encircling my arm around her waist, I easily vault across the precipice. Wren gasps before recovering herself and smirking.

  “Can I open my eyes now?”

  “Go ahead.”

  Setting her on the ground, I watch as she looks around.

  “Oh! How did you … ?”

  With an equivocal gesture, I point toward the edge of the cliff. She studies the ledge with wide eyes before edging her way toward the drop-off. As she looks out upon the water, I listen to her heart rate accelerating. When she backs away and lowers herself to the ground, I remain at the edge, looking out into the emptiness as the wind whips at my unyielding form.

  Nothing in this world—not wind, fire, storm, or quaking earth—has changed me, and I thought nothing could.

  “Who are they? Audra and Chasen, I mean,” she asks quietly.

  I turn, thinking of the others, whose eternities’ worth of loyalty I have flouted.

  “They are like me.”

  “Guardians?” she asks hesitantly.

  I nod.

  “Are there many of you?”

  “No.”

  “Are they … your family?” she asks, struggling to understand my existence through human perception.

  “They are the closest I have to family.”

  Walking the few steps from the cliff where she is, I sit beside her.

  “And they came back here because of …”

  I meet her eyes.

  “Yes. Because of you.”

  “They seemed to think I was … insignificant. Why would they care?” she asks skeptically.

  “I told you before—they believed I was concealing you from them.”

  “And you said you were.”

  “Yes.”

  She frowns and shakes her head.

  “Okay. You’ve lost me again. Why?”

  How do I tell this girl that very powerful beings on two sides of an eternal war want her? How do I tell her that my allies would destroy her to end the war and my enemies would use her as a means to enslaving this world for their unrelenting avarice?

  “When I didn’t leave here, they were curious.”

  “You were going to leave?” she asks breathlessly.

  “Yes.”

  She looks away from me toward the water.

  How different would things have been if he had simply never come back after that first day?

  “I thought it would be better for you if I never came back. Then it became clear that I was putting you in danger regardless of the choices I made.”

  Shivering, she frowns, her lips parting as she prepares to argue with me. Reaching up, I touch the cool softness of her cheek. She becomes completely still, her eyes riveted to mine.

  “You’re cold,” I whisper, my voice rough with a longing I cannot contain.

  I allow my energy to flood outward, instantly warming her. With my other hand, I reach out, my fingers tracing the curve of her jaw. She draws an uneven breath, and her eyes close. The temptation is more than I can endure.

  Casting myself away from her, I reach the cliff’s edge in an instant, releasing into the howling wind my guilt, anguish, and selfish need for this girl. When I turn and face her, Wren’s expression is one of vicarious misery. Jumping up, she begins to approach me, not understanding how much strength it required just now for me to turn away. I raise my hand in warning to forestall her approach.

  Obstinate creature that she is, she again begins walking toward me, more cautiously this time, as though I might vanish. Coming to a stop before me, she tentatively reaches up until her cool fingers caress my cheek. Her touch mesmerizes me, and before I can stop myself, I press nearer. Suddenly the image of her unmoving form lying in my arms that day in Gideon’s classroom intrudes upon my trance, and opening my eyes, I pull away.

  “That first day, I was so certain that I could end it. I watched you to be sure you were the one, but I knew …” I shake my head. “It should have been so simple, but I hesitated.”

  Wren thinks back to that first day, to the table in the cafeteria she had believed to be empty. The blood drains from her cheeks as she envisions me rising and retreating from her.

  “That was you?” she whispers.

  I nod.

  “I swore to myself that I was merely being judicious. I continued to watch you, and then you heard me …”

  “No.” She shakes her head desperately. “I can’t hear people unless I’m looking directly into their eyes.”

  “But you did hear me. And I knew then that I could never leave you alive.”

  How could I be so stupid? That’s why he came here. It’s been me all along—a vessel that these incorporeal beings could use to take root. By getting rid of me, Ever would have eliminated their opportunity. He had never been hunting shapeless demons; he had been hunting me.

  Her eyes widen.

  “Then that morning I blacked out in class—you were trying to kill me?”

  She takes a step back, and I feel the pain like a physical wound.

  “Please understand. If I had tried, you would not be alive now,” I whisper, begging her to understand. “But I never anticipated that you would be able to see into my world so easily. Those few seconds nearly destroyed you.”

  She remains frozen, her thoughts swirling chaotically as she gasps for breath. For a moment, I think she is going to run from me, which I cannot allow her to do, for she most certainly will fall. Then she envisions my face just as the truck was about to strike her.

  “All those times after that, though. You could have let me die, but you didn’t.”

  I shake my head, pained by the endless misfortune I must disclose.

  “No. I couldn’t. If you had come so close to death, you could have very easily been inhabited. It is my function not to let that happen.”

  Victor seeks a sentient accomplice in his quest for domination. If Wren were to acquiesce and pledge her allegiance to him, there is no question that we would lose the war. However, while less appealing, the option always stands for him to use her as a blunt instrument to hold open the corridor between dimensions and lay claim to whatever he sees fit.

  If I had destroyed her that first day, the portal would have closed, and Victor and any influence he had upon possessed humans in this dimension would have ceased. I know now, though, that if I were given the choice again, I would make the same one.

  I chose Wren over my duty, and I will again, because to love her and feel the warmth of her love is infinitely more precious than any experience I have had in this dimension or my own.

  His function? Then that’s what I am to him—an obligation, Wren thinks, trying to hide her pain beneath a blank expression.

  “That makes sense,” she says softly.

  Growling, I realize that it may be my punishment for past transgressions that this girl refuses to believe the depth of my feeling for her.

  “Do you realize how endlessly infuriating your logic is? You completely misunderstood my intention. I did not follow you around solely out of some morbid obligation.”

  “That’s what it sounded like!” she snaps. “So … for once, can you explain in a way that makes sense?”

  I
search her face for some sign that she understands why I have taken the actions I have—why I have betrayed everything I know for her. Everything I have done, I have done for Wren.

  “Why did you care when you found out I hadn’t returned to school?” I ask.

  Scowling, she throws her hands into the air.

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Humor me,” I smile.

  “I don’t know! I had nothing better to do? I’m a conspiracy theorist? I couldn’t understand why no one else cared? I didn’t know you, but I couldn’t get you out of my head for some stupid reason?” She smirks. “And you just answered my question with a question!”

  “I suppose my motivations were similar. From the moment I saw you, I couldn’t get you out of my thoughts, and for once I felt very human. For the first time it felt as though I had a purpose beyond destruction. A future that didn’t seem so dark and meaningless.”

  She frowns and blinks as though I physically struck her.

  “Because of me?”

  “Yes,” I whisper fiercely.

  She looks down, evidently refusing to accept the truth.

  “But you were so indifferent. You spoke to me once. And after that you acted horrified any time you had to be around me!”

  “Don’t you understand that I had to be? I swore to myself that I would leave you alone, but from that first morning, seeing you lifeless—because of me—I felt such a profound loss—not guilt, but a loss like something had been ripped from me. I knew then that I would betray everything I knew to make amends. To protect you. Even from myself. … Instead, you are in constant danger, because of me.”

  Her eyes blaze.

  “I’m the one who has an absurd rationale? Do you have to save me indefinitely to feel you’ve atoned enough? And for what? What could you have done that’s so terrible? You didn’t kill me, remember?”

  “You don’t understand. You can’t.”

  “Then, explain it to me, okay?” she pleads.

  How can I tell her how many lives I have taken, how many creatures like her I have destroyed to prevent Victor from laying waste to this world? I cannot. Not yet.