Everlasting (Night Watchmen, #1) (11 page)

I sigh, because I know with her, it’s a fight I won’t win. I head into the bathroom and emerge from it wearing a skin-tight
Catwoman suit, a suit that swallows every curve of my body and lines it in confidence, a suit that squashes the fearful side of me.

She whistles on cue, and I bite back a smile. “See! I told you that you have an amazing figure. This is perfect.” I’ve become her test dummy and I actually don’t mind, not when it momentarily takes away the sting of being me.

She drags me into the bathroom and lines my eyes with dark liner. She runs red lipstick over my lips. She sprays my hair into a wild mess, and then pulls it back into a high ponytail. The last touch is the mask she carefully sticks on. When she steps away, and I look in the mirror, I don’t know who I am.

And I like it.

“Ready?”

“Yeah.”

We follow the few novices left in the hall out into the courtyard. Fast-paced rock music thumps from the inside of the dining hall. The air is lit with excitement. It’s alive with hope. Small orange and purple lights are strung from tree to tree, creating a glowing arc to walk under.

I feel alive for the first time in a long time and I’m not sure how I should feel about that. I know I should be worried about my parents and my future. I should be in some dark corner waiting for word from Mack, but I feel different beneath this costume. I feel like I can be who I want to be, versus who I should be, even if it’s for just one moment in time.

The door to the dining hall is pulled open and loud music drifts out around us. The lights have been dimmed and tables and tables of food have been set out against the back walls. Skeletons hang from the ceiling. A small altar with an offering of flowers and food to the God and Goddess is in front of the stage with the live band. Bodies of novices, affinity partners, parents, and siblings all blend together, swaying and jumping to the beat.

Katie takes my hand and drags me into the middle of it all, and we dance. My eyes close and the music fills me, awakens me. It breathes life into me and I let go willingly. I don’t stop until my hair is slick with sweat and my legs are trembling and my stomach
is growling. I don’t stop until I lose myself completely and surface as a whole new me; a me who will get through this. My stomach growls again; a me who needs to eat something.

“I have to eat. I’m going to faint,” I tell Katie. She nods, still scanning the crowd for Chett, who remains unseen, who remains disconnected from her mind. I squeeze her arm and make my way through the pulsing crowd over to the banquet table. I think my eyes are hungrier than my stomach. A cascading fountain of punch sits in the center, surrounded by pieces of fruit carved to look like moons and stars. Thin slices of meat and cheese are piled up on platters beside chilled buckets of shrimp. Serving dishes of different pastas and salads stretch out along the table. Bowls filled with candy and layered tiers stuffed with cakes wrap the ends of the tables.

It’s a starving man’s paradise. I grab a piece of cheese and chuck it into my mouth while I load my plate up with slices of ham so thin you can almost see through them.

“Hungry?”

I jump at the sound of Jaxen’s voice, and the contents of my plate slide off and land on his feet. I follow his gaze and watch as he shakes his foot a little. The ham falls to the floor with a splat. I close my eyes, wishing for a magical eraser that could go back in time and remove that moment, wishing I was someone else who didn’t startle because a handsome guy spoke to me.

“I’m…so…sorry.” With each word, my head hangs a little lower. I am the epitome of awkward moments, of failed attempts at being cool.

But when I open my eyes, he’s laughing. Amusement brightens his features and lightens his eyes. A warm, bubbly feeling spreads through my chest, and I think I might float away from my humiliation. I think his laughter can pave a golden path to my salvation. I think his smile can end all that’s wrong in the world.

“It’s all good,” he says, “I’ve had worse land on my shoes.” He lifts his brows and leans in closer to me, his hands tucked behind his back. “Try Demon’s blood.” His voice drifts over my ear and down my neck, leaving a trail of secrets I’ve yet to unravel, secrets I somehow know will be my undoing.

“I…uh, I thought you didn’t like parties,” I say evenly, trying to remain cool, composed, and in control.

“I don’t.” He looks up from his boot and his eyes roam over me; every inch of me, turning my insides into a furnace just waiting for his match. He’s still close to me, just a few breaths away.

“But you’re here,” I say, holding my breath. Why am I holding my breath?

“Yeah, I uh…” he shakes his head like he’s shaking off fog and leans back. He clears his throat. “I came to take you to my room, I mean, your room,” he corrects automatically. He stops, his eyes flinch shut, and I swear I see a flush to his skin.

I bite the corner of my lip, trying to hold back a smile.

“That sounded wrong. Sorry.” He looks down and adjusts his stance, shoving a hand into his pocket. “I meant, we think you shouldn’t be out late since you have a big day tomorrow.” His eyes finally open.

I turn back to the table and reach for another piece of ham. I have to remain cool. I have to seem indifferent. “We?” I ask casually.

“Gavin and me. Gavin’s my…”

“Brother?”

“Yeah,” he pauses, looks at me weirdly, and then continues, “We think you should rest tonight. We’re going to start first thing in the morning, since the novices will be in introductions and scheduling all day.” He ruffles his hand through his hair, and then reaches past me to grab a piece of ham. He shoves it in his mouth like he’s glad for the excuse to stop talking.

This time I can’t hide my smile. “Okay, but can I tell my friend first?”

He points to his mouth, still chewing, and nods his okay.

I set the plate down, food now far from my mind, and rush to find Katie. She’s near the stage staring up at the lead singer of the band. He’s all piercings and tattoos and every bit of everything she’s dreamed of. I tap her shoulder and, when she turns around, say, “He’s here.” I stare at her, waiting for my words to sink in.

“Who’s here?” she asks, peering over her shoulder back up at the lead singer who tosses her a hunky smile.

I grab her chin and turn her face back to mine. “
Him,
” I say quickly, almost in a panic. A good kind of panic.

Her eyes quirk up. “
Ohhhh.
Him
, him? Where? I want to see him.” She’s already looking around me, looking past me on her toes, scanning the room for him. I have to pull her back to reality before she embarrasses me.

“Please, stop,” I say under my breath, pushing her back down by her shoulders. “He’s over by the banquet table with his back to us. The dangerously handsome one.” I can almost see my mortification blazing a trail across the dance floor in his direction.

“The one with all the knives wrapped around his legs?” she mutters, still trying to see over the many heads crowding the dance floor.

“That one,” I say with my eyes painfully squeezed shut. I don’t want to know if he’s caught her looking. I count my heartbeats until they slow enough for me to breathe evenly. She’s not going to make this easy for me. She never has. “He’s here to show me to my room. I have to go.”

Katie laughs. “He turned around. I see him now. Ooohh, yeah, Faye, you should go. You really, really should go with him. Maybe all the way.”

I open my eyes in shock and shove her when she laughs at me. “Stop it,” I say, trying not to laugh with her, trying to be mad even though I’m not. “Don’t make this awkward for me.” Even though I’m not looking, I can feel his gaze. I know he’s watching me, studying me. He’s a bucket of serious that I want to drink out of.

“Who’s making anything awkward? I’m not.” She looks me over and her face softens. She can see the nerves she’s plucked. She can see the panic building in me. “Faye, look at you. You’re freaking Catwoman. Go. Let him walk you to your door. Maybe even flirt a little. He won’t bite you…well, maybe not.” I start to protest, but she holds her hand up. “I’m kidding. Sort of. Nothing bad will happen. Enjoy yourself…for once.”

I roll my eyes and groan, then hug her. She’s right. She’s always right. “I have to go. I’ll see you later, or tomorrow, or something.”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” she shouts after me.

I inhale courage and make my way back through the crowd. Jaxen swallows whatever he’s chewing when I approach, and then reaches for a bottle of water. He nearly downs it. “Are you all right?” I ask, worried that he might be sick, or something else, something that would turn the heat up between us.

“I’m good. You?” he says quickly, running a hand through his messy hair. He runs his hands down his shirt, straightens his leather jacket, and then guides me out of the dining hall and back into the cool, night air. As soon as we’re out, he takes a deep breath. “I really hate parties.”

“Why?”

I don’t think he meant to say that out loud, because he looks at me funny, like he isn’t sure why I asked him that. I take in every one of his movements, trying to understand him; the way his fingers flex and then tighten at his sides, the way he has a slight jump in his step, the way he over corrects to keep his steps from walking too close to mine.

I make him nervous and I don’t know what I should think about that.

“Why don’t I like parties?” he asks me in return.

“Yeah.” I’m trying to seem indifferent. I think I’m succeeding at it. I think he doesn’t pick up on the flurry of butterflies attacking my central nervous system every time he speaks.

“I don’t know. Just never have.” That’s all he offers. I don’t try to push him for more. I know what it feels like to have people poking you for answers that you aren’t comfortable with sharing. I drop my gaze a little and try not to think about how close he is, about how my body responds every time I see him, about how good he smells.

We walk almost across the entire campus without another word. We pass the Divine hall and keep going until we approach a large building that looks like all the rest except for the gold lettering gilded across the doorway that reads ‘Elder Wing.’
The Elder’s building is further up the hill, overlooking the whole school. There’s a sort of haunted quality about the building. Clouds of shadows seem to embrace the cold gray stone. The six gargoyles huddle along the tiled roof, their stony eyes watching my every step. The clock tower gongs again, signaling the late hour.

“This is where I’m staying? In the Elder’s Wing?” I ask when the gongs end. It’s far from Katie’s building and I don’t like it. Not one bit.

“Yeah. There’s extra protection on this building. It’s the best place to be for this type of situation.” In the time spent walking in silence, he seems to have found his cool composure again. He’s back to his distant tone and cut-off words.

“Okay,” I say. He pulls the door open and I walk through, keeping my eyes on the floor. Where has all my confidence gone?

“We’re all on the first floor. This way,” he says, walking ahead of me down the hall. We pass door after door until we reach the very end of the hallway. “This is your room.” He pushes the door open.

I walk through. It looks just like Katie’s.
A four post bed is in the center of the room, which is large enough to house a group of people, too large for someone as small as me. I gaze over the intricate details carved into the mahogany posts of the bed that are draped in sheer, black fabric. My feet squish into beige carpet that settles the ache in my back. An armoire matching the detailing of the bed is off to the side. I can only imagine what’s inside.

Black pants, black shirts, black jackets, black everything. They want us to be as black as night; as black as shadows, to blend in and forget who we are, to forget the sun, and to become one with the night just as our enemy has. They want us to be like the moon, always there watching, waiting, hovering for that small moment in the night where we can shine, illuminating a safe path for the humans.

When I turn back around, he’s still on the other side of the doorway. I don’t ask him to come in. I don’t think he should. I’m not even sure he would. His hands are tucked into his pockets and his eyes are on me, watching me, waiting for me to say something. I don’t know why, but I feel alive in his eyes. I feel present, whole, and awake.

He blinks and then clears his throat. “Well, goodnight, Faye,” he says, keeping his eyes steady on mine.

“Goodnight, Jaxen,” I say with a hint of a smile and just enough understanding. My problems suddenly seem so far away, so unreal compared to the stark green of his eyes that I’ll get to see every day from here on out.

I think he smiles, and then his head dips down and he pulls the door shut.

I find my packed bag on the floor near the bed. I open it and pull out the picture of my parents. It hurts to look at them. I set them on the nightstand, and then pull out my college acceptance letter. I wander over to the desk and find a roll of duct tape in the drawer to tape the letter up on the wall.

I change into my pajamas and crawl into bed, tucking my arms under my head. My eyes fall on the acceptance letter directly across from me. It hangs as a reminder that I can overcome; that I can be who I want to be.