The Everlast Series Boxed Set

by Juliana Haygert

  “Yes, but I thought you would say no.”

  He sighed. “All right. We’ll do it tomorrow. Let’s clean this mess up and go back to bed.”

  “No,” I said, taking a meat knife from one of the drawers. “I want to do it now, before I clean up this mess.”

  I thought he would argue again, but he ended up nodding.

  He took the knife from me. “There is no way of undoing a Soul Oath. Are you sure about this?”

  I held my hand out to him. “I’m sure.”

  He prickled my finger with the knife, drawing blood, and then pricked his. He took my palm and smeared his blood on it, then did the same with my blood and his palm. Next, he placed my bloodstained palm over his heart and his bloodstained hand on my chest.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “By the Soul Oath, I swear to bring Nadine’s family back to life once the war is over and the world is safe again. In return, she’ll give me her soul.”

  “By the Soul Oath, I swear to give my soul to Mitrus if he brings my family back to life once the war is over and the world is safe again.”

  Instantly, the blood in my palm stung my skin, and I almost jerked away. Micah reached to my wrist. “Hold it there,” he said.

  A cold rush replaced the stinging, and it spread out of my hand and into him, just as a wave of coldness reached me, from his hand to my chest. When the energy was gone, he recoiled. I pulled my hand away and stared at it. The blood was gone.

  Micah looked down at me. “Done.”

  17

  I thought I would feel different, as if there was an internal clock ticking the seconds away, counting how long it would take me to die. However, nothing changed. Not really. The only two things that changed: A tense cloud began circling me, reminding me the others didn’t know about the Soul Oath and I didn’t want them to know, and the despair and helplessness in me changed into hope and purpose. I had a mission now, a mission that wouldn’t completely absolve me of my guilt, but it would fix at least everything in the end.

  After the Soul Oath, Micah helped clean the kitchen. Neither of us said a word, and I couldn’t help but notice I had never seen him so tense, so unlike himself. Since he had entered the kitchen, he hadn’t been cocky once, hadn’t called me darling, hadn’t joked or teased me.

  “First things first,” Keisha said, bringing my mind to the present. She stood before me in the center of the mat. Again, she wore workout clothes, and her hair was pulled into a tight braid.

  When I pulled her aside this morning and asked her to train me, she had sounded ecstatic. Nevertheless, she warned me she was going to be hard on me since I didn’t have years to master whatever she was going to teach me, and because of that, we met at the gym thirty minutes later.

  The place really looked like a gym except for the large, oval table squeezed along a wall and a white board hanging over it. There was a mat in the center, weight lifting equipment to one side, treadmills and ellipticals to the other side, and punching dummies and weapons hung on the wall to the far back.

  “We begin with stretches.” Keisha showed me what to do, where to pull, and where to bend.

  I was rusty but at the same time relieved to be moving. Not because I was in need of exercise—I liked being lazy—but because I needed to occupy my mind. I needed to focus on my current purpose in life.

  After stretching she showed me how get in a stance to deliver punches and how to clench my fists so the punches didn’t hurt as much. It was tiring. Really tiring. Yet, it still made me feel useful.

  “So,” I said, during one of our three-minute breaks, “how was it to find out everything I told you was real?”

  She snorted. “I still think I should pinch myself sometimes. For real, though, it’s … awesome. This feels right. I mean, being here, helping, getting ready to fight. I feel like I waited my entire life to find you in NYC and be led here.”

  I wished I had those same feelings. “Is your family okay? I mean they didn’t mind that you left them and came with us?”

  Her toned shoulders squared. “I told them I needed to leave. My mother didn’t take it well, but my father noticed something was up and helped me with her.” She wiped her forehead with her towel. “Lady Ceris gave me an untraceable cell phone to give to them so I can call them in case they need to run. Hopefully, I’ll never have to use it.” Her eyes widened. “Shit. Sorry. I … I forgot about your …”

  “It’s okay,” I said, offering her a tight smile. “I was the one asking. I’m glad you have a way of reaching them.”

  “Me too.” She threw her towel back on a chair and marched to the center of the mat. “Come on. Time to get this really going.”

  I perked up—until she explained I was supposed to stand there, ready for a fight, with my legs apart and arms raised in front of my body. She would throw punches at me, and I was supposed to block her. Simple.

  However, simple ended up in her connecting her fist with my shoulder, upper arm, and stomach at least ten times each. Each time she hit me, the air flew out of me, and I knew she wasn’t even packing her entire strength in those moves. By the end of the day, I would have purple bruises all over.

  She lifted her fist, and I raised my arms to block it.

  “What are you doing?” Victor’s irritated voice cut through my focus.

  My arms went slack, and Keisha landed her fist on my chin. Pain shot through my bones, and I yelped falling on my side.

  “Sorry!” Keisha said, trying to hide her laughter.

  I touched my chin, afraid my jaw was broken. I knew it wasn’t, but still, it hurt.

  “It’s not funny.” I groaned. Speaking hurt too.

  Victor knelt beside me. “Are you okay?” He tried to reach for me, but I stood up on my own.

  Micah was in the doorway, his arms crossed and an amused grin on his face. His eyes met mine, and if I didn’t know better, I would say I had imagined the events of the previous night. He was back to his old cocky self. Better this way. I didn’t want anyone knowing what he had seen or what we had done.

  I looked from Micah to Victor, ensnared by their beauty as always.

  Victor narrowed his eyes. “What are you two doing?”

  I placed a hand on my waist and stared at him. “What does it look like?”

  He sighed. “Nadine …”

  “Since I have no choice but to stay here because of your situation, I want to be useful when the time comes. I asked Keisha to teach me how to fight because I’m tired of cowering and running away.”

  “You never cower.”

  “But I was never able to really fight either.”

  He pressed his lips into a thin line. “I’m not sure I like this.”

  “You don’t have to like anything. All you have to do is search for your damn scepter and leave me the hell alone.” I whirled on my feet and took my stance before Keisha. “Again.” She looked past me with worried eyes. “You don’t need their permission.”

  “They are my gods,” she whispered. “I kinda do.”

  “You gotta be kidding me.”

  “I approve,” Micah said. The satisfied tone in his voice didn’t escape me.

  “Stay out of this,” Victor hissed.

  “Why? I think Nadine is right. Since she’s here and she’ll probably stay until the end, she might as well be able to help.”

  Wait, back up. Micah thought I was right? About fighting?

  Victor cursed. “You can’t be serious? What if she gets hurt?”

  “She has a better chance of that happening if she doesn’t know how to defend herself or how to fight.”

  “Exactly,” I said. Though that wasn’t the real reason I wanted to learn how to fight.

  “So, what is it?” Keisha asked, clearly afraid of over stepping her gods.

  “Train her. It’s what she wants.” Micah leaned closer with his smug smile, and I tensed. “Besides, chicks fighting? It’s hot.”

  I had trouble sleeping that
night because every goddamn muscle in my body hurt. When I finally fell asleep, images of Nicole, Mom, Dad, Teddie, Tommy, and Troy burning invaded my mind.

  Nicole reached to me with her bony fingers. “Help,” she croaked. Her eyes dulled, the skin on her face darkened until it became gray, then crumbled to dust, and she was gone with the wind.

  Heart racing and shaking, I sat up on my bed, fully awake.

  I tried, but it was impossible to go back to sleep. I felt restless, as if I could run a marathon, as if I should run a marathon to burn all my energy, to burn all my guilt.

  I threw the covers away, put on jeans and a loose sweater over my sleeping shorts and tee, added another pair of thick socks to my cold feet, and sauntered out of my room.

  At first I walked aimlessly. I had no idea where to go, just that I wanted to keep moving and exploring, occupying my mind so it wouldn’t return to the nightmare.

  I turned a corner and walked by Morgan’s room. Light seeped from the open crack. Smiling, I was about to knock and pull the door fully open when I saw Morgan knelt in the middle of the room, the circle with the symbols drawn on the floor around him. By the way he was chanting, he seemed to be performing a ritual. He had his back to me, but his arms were tight around his chest, as if he was holding something there, something dear to him.

  Curiosity swelled in me, but I knew better than to interrupt a ritual. He was probably praying for the gods—the ones here and the ones that had gone into hiding after Imha took over.

  Thinking maybe I should ask him to let me participate sometime in one of these rituals—I could use some praying—I tiptoed away from Morgan’s room.

  My stomach growled. A healthy snack might be a good idea. Perhaps I would be able to go back to bed once my belly was full.

  The cafeteria looked like a tiny version of a school lunchroom. A narrow room with two long tables and benches, white walls, a bar on one of them, and the kitchen behind it. However, there was no lunch lady. We had to walk around the bar and prepare our own food.

  I entered the cafeteria and stopped. The kitchen’s lights were on.

  “Hello?” I called.

  Two seconds later, Victor peered out from the window connecting the bar to the kitchen.

  “Hey.” He disappeared behind the wall again. “I’m making mochaccino. Want some?”

  “No, thanks.”

  Again his pretty head peeked through the window. “No?”

  I shook my head.

  With a frown, he went back to his business. I sighed and joined him in the kitchen.

  “I prefer black coffee,” I said, opening the fridge. “But it wouldn’t be wise to drink it in the middle of the night since I hope to go back to bed in a few.”

  He picked up his mug from the counter and looked at me. “Oh. I didn’t know you liked black coffee.”

  For eleven months, I had liked mochaccino. But after knowing of Ceris’s influence on my life, I thought it was best I stayed away from it.

  I grabbed cheese, ham, lettuce, tomato, and mayo from the fridge, bread and a plate from one of the cabinets, and knife from one of the drawers, then set everything on the counter on the other side of the kitchen to work on making my sandwich—all the while aware Victor’s eyes were on me.

  “How are you?” he asked.

  Still in pain. Frustrated. Hurt. Heartbroken. Disappointed. Did I mention hurt?

  “I’m okay,” I muttered.

  I finished preparing my snack, then returned the items to the fridge and washed the knife, all in silence. Honestly, I didn’t know what to say to him. Sometimes I thought I really had nothing to talk to him about. Why pretend to have nice conversations?

  I picked up my plate with my sandwich, grabbed a bottle of water, and went back to the cafeteria. I sat down on a bench, and Victor emerged from the kitchen, his mug in hand.

  Determined to keep my cool, I bit into my sandwich.

  He sat down across the table from me. “How’s training going?”

  Well, I might believe I had nothing to talk to him about, but I wasn’t about to be rude.

  “It’s going well.” I stared at my plate. “Apparently I’m better at fighting than I thought I would be. That’s a nice surprise.”

  He sighed. “I still think it’s dangerous.”

  I pressed my lips together before a couple of nasty words flew out of them. He had no right to think anything about what I did or didn’t do.

  To keep my mouth busy, I took a big bite of my sandwich, and Victor kept staring at me. It was making me incredibly uncomfortable. Why did he have to look at me like that? His wife wouldn’t like it.

  I couldn’t keep quiet anymore. I swallowed and blurted out. “How are things with Ceris?”

  His eyes widened. “I never thought you would want to know about that.”

  “Well, not really. I’m just making conversation.”

  He sipped from his mug before answering. “Since you asked, things are complicated.”

  Shit, I didn’t think he would actually answer. “Complicated might not be that bad, right? I mean, you two have been together forever. Things will work out, right?”

  He narrowed his eyes at me. “Is it me, or do you sound hopeful that Ceris and I will work things out?”

  “I read one of Morgan’s books the other day. It said something about Ceris being your strength. Without her love, your balance won’t be the same and the creed will crumble.” I watched him as his gaze flickered to his mug and back to me, probably a bit embarrassed. “So, even if I wanted to, there’s no chance. You two are meant to be together. Forever.”

  “Even if you wanted to? You don’t—?”

  “Victor, I told you. I know Ceris created my feelings for you. And yours too. There wouldn’t be anything if Ceris hadn’t put it there.”

  “You can’t be sure.”

  “No, I can’t. But I think I’m right.”

  “Nadine, I—”

  “Please. Just let this go. It’s easier this way.” I held his gaze, hoping he saw in my eyes the determination I wanted to have, the determination I wanted to feel. Another topic I had read in the books came to mind, and I thought it would be a nice icebreaker. “I was planning on asking this during the next meeting, when Ceris is back, but I’m curious. In that same book, I read that this isn’t the first time Imha has brought chaos to the world.”

  “True.”

  “How did you defeat her, or control her, before?”

  “Well, for one, Mitrus and I were gods, with our full power. It was easier to overpower her when all of us were together and in full force. Second, Imha never did anything this big. She had never killed deities before, and she had never messed with the entire world at once. Some of her mischiefs are what humans call the Ten Plagues of Egypt, the Black Death, the eruption of Vesuvius, and any major earthquake in populated areas. But you see, always within an area.”

  “The Black Death could have spread to the entire world.”

  “It could and I think she was expecting that, but thankfully it didn’t.” He swirled his mug, looking at it as the liquid splashed side to side, but not really seeing it. “Anyway, we’re in a different situation this time.”

  Not exactly what I was hoping to hear, but it made sense.

  “So, no secret weapon or spell or whatever that will save us?”

  He chuckled, and a pang zapped through my heart. God, even though I didn’t want to feel anything for him anymore, I couldn’t help but notice how handsome he was, especially when he was smiling.

  “Unfortunately, no,” he said, already in a more serious note.

  “That’s a shame.”

  “I agree.”

  Our eyes locked and images of our time together flashed in my mind. It felt like too long ago, almost as if it didn’t happen at all. Like it had been a dream. A vision.

  I knew he felt the same. I could see it in his sea-green eyes.

  Clearing my throat, I stood. “Well, Keisha likes to start training early. I
better go back to sleep.”

  I grabbed my plate, but Victor reached across the table and took it from me.

  “I’ll wash this,” he said.

  “I don’t mind doing it.”

  “Me neither,” he said, standing. He held his mug in one hand and my plate in the other.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I am.”

  I retreated a step. “All right, then. Thanks.”

  “Good night, Nadine.”

  “Good night.”

  I walked out to the hallway and inhaled deeply, as if the air inside the cafeteria had been too dense to breathe properly.

  Walking back to my room, I realized Victor and I might not have been in love as I first thought, but I could never wish anything bad for him, as a god or human. In fact, I wished him the best. I wished he would find his scepter, restore his powers, defeat Imha, and forgive Ceris.

  How stupid of me. Wishing Victor would forgive Ceris when I was sure I would never forgive her myself. However, he had to spend eternity with her. I just had to endure her for a few months, or however long it took us to defeat Imha. Then Micah could honor the Soul Oath, and I would be free of this pain that scorched me on the inside.

  18

  “What’s up?” Keisha asked the next morning during breakfast. She sat across the table from me and sipped from her coffee as if nothing was wrong with the world. “You look tired. Didn’t sleep well?”

  “I’m not tired,” I said a little too harshly. I busied myself by stuffing my face with a forkful of boiled eggs.

  What could I tell her? That I had barely slept all night because I had another nightmare with my family dying around me? That I woke up and had a conversation with Victor in the middle of the night? She didn’t know the whole story of what happened a few months ago, and I wasn’t in the mood to fill in the blanks for her.

  “… if we have time,” Keisha’s voice cut through my thoughts. She frowned at me. “Did you hear what I said?”

  “Yeah, something about training.”

  “Sorta. I was saying training will have to wait because Lady Ceris is back, and we have a meeting. Where is your head?”