Everlasting (Night Watchmen, #1) (13 page)

“So what you’re saying is that you’re not sure I have one?”

He shrugs. In his gaze, he’s daring me to prove him wrong. In his words, he’s testing my strength. He’s pushing me and I don’t understand why.

But I’d rather die than back down.

I narrow my eyes on him. “Fine.” I lean forward and pluck one of his daggers from its sheath, and then step back with it gripped in my hand. The weight feels comfortable in my hand, and I can’t help but think of my father and all the nights spent throwing daggers in the backyard. Pain slips into my heart. I shove the memories away, knowing I need to focus. I harden myself and say, “Show me the way.”

“All right!” Gavin says, slapping me on the back. I stumble forward a step before I catch myself and glare up at him. He’s untroubled by my glare. “I have to say, Middleton, I didn’t think you’d have it in you.” He’s looking me over, and I know what he meant was that I don’t look the part. I’m too frail. Too small.

“Maybe you shouldn’t think then,” I retort. I don’t even worry about wishing the words back. I’m past niceties.

The smile vanishes from Gavin’s face. Jaxen chuckles at this and starts walking the rest of the way up the hill toward the forest.

“She’s feisty,” Gavin says to Jaxen, pointing to me. “You were right.”

“About?” I ask, my head picking up. What did Jaxen say about me that was right?

Jaxen’s head snaps to Gavin’s, his eyes growing wide.

“Oh, nothing,” Gavin says, wearing a mischievous smile. The same that Katie always wears with me.

Jaxen stops and I nearly bump into the back of him. The fog begins to clear, and I wish it wouldn’t. I want to remain blind to what I signed myself up for. Ahead of me rests a dark, deep, and unforgiving forest where novices have been found dead in the past, according to stories from Katie. A forest where every novice knows not to enter without the aid of a trainer.

“This is it,” Gavin says. His hands are on his hips, and his smile is taking it all in like it’s a beauty to behold. “You sure you’re still up for it?”

No.
“Of course.” I’m surprised by the control over my voice, because my hands are trembling at my sides. I don’t like the dark. I never have. I hold onto the dagger like it’s my only lifeline. It’s the only thing I’m sure of in this moment, because I know my confidence is not coming with me on this trip. It remained under the covers in my room.

“You can still back out.” It’s Jaxen’s voice, and it’s his eyes probing the side of my face, searching for my weaknesses, sniffing them out like a blood hound.

“I’m good.”

“Sure you are,” he says. He looks back at the forest. “You need to be in shape, physically and mentally, in order to be a good Night Watchman, in order to be a productive Hunter. The best way to do this is what I’m putting you through now. You can’t be afraid of what you’re hunting, and you should always be able to outrun them.”

I glance over at Gavin who’s typing something into his phone. Jaxen walks just up to the edge of the forest and turns, waiting for me to follow. I inhale deeply, forcing down the tendrils of fear snaking up my throat, and walk over to meet him. The fog moves almost supernaturally just above our feet. Eerily, there’s no sound coming from inside the forest. Not even from a bird.

“The trail is three and a half miles and will circle you around back to this point so long as you stay on it. To be a good Hunter, the first thing we must learn is self-discipline and control over our emotions. We must always be on point. Alert. Aware.” His words hold the air of discipline, and I can’t help but respect that. “You must learn to turn it off.”

“Turn what off?” I ask, keeping my eyes ahead. I think if I look away, I’ll never be able to look back. I’ll never be able to prove him wrong.

“Your emotional state of mind. It’s a weakness that will hold you back in crucial decision making. Emotions are better left to the Witches.”

“You sure about that?” Gavin asks, looking up from his phone. Jaxen levels his gaze on Gavin. “I’m just saying,” Gavin adds, “Witches and emotions don’t always mix.” He spares me a glance. “You’ll understand what I’m saying soon enough.”

“Right,” I say, pushing a strand of hair from my face. “So turning it off …got any pointers?” I ask, using every ounce of strength in me to keep from shivering. They don’t even seem fazed. Gavin rolls the sleeves up on his shirt while Jaxen takes his jacket off, leaving him in only the tank top he was wearing underneath and his formfitting jeans.

“You just shut down,” Jaxen says, his face still set on auto. “You have the power within your mind to feel what you want to feel. Pain is a defense mechanism your body has to alert you when you’re in danger. It doesn’t always have to be real if you don’t want it to be. Out here,” he says, looking to the forest, “you could sustain hypothermia, fatal wounds, sprains, but tell your mind otherwise. Make yourself feel warmth. Running will help you with this exercise.”

I want to laugh in his face. I want to pretend like this is all a really big joke and go home, but I can’t because it’s not. He’s still watching me, and I know every second I stand waiting in panic is a second I can’t take back, another second he gains in being right about me. “Okay,” I finally say as a slight shudder from the chill slips past my tense muscles.

He notices the shudder. “Take your jacket and gloves off.”

“What?” I ask, flinching away from him. “That’s something I’m definitely not doing.” My palms are sweating underneath the thick leather of the gloves. My heart has taken up residence in my throat. I think I might faint if I don’t get a grip soon, if I don’t find a stable thought to land on.

He fills the gap between us, unflinching. “I said, take them off,” he repeats, his eyes dark and unforgiving.

Bitterness fills my blood, and my lips press together in a hard, firm line. I’m two steps from losing control. I’m one breath from exhaling it all out on him. “It’s freezing out here. You’re out of your mind.”

“We’re under strict orders to get you to where you can protect yourself should the wrong person find out who you really are. We don’t have time to coddle. If you were attacked while you were asleep, you wouldn’t have time to worry about gloves and jackets. You need to be able to adapt to the elements around you. Put your grown up pants on and take the jacket and gloves off.” The threat in his tone and the hard line of his jaw never surrender, not even when I hold his glaring gaze.

“Fine,” I say, my voice a notch lower than normal. Without taking my eyes off him, I set the dagger down, pull my gloves off, and slip out of the jacket. I bunch them up and toss them at him. He catches them easily and tosses them over to Gavin. I barely even feel the bite of the cold. My body’s tense and flushed with anger. My mind is ready to go
as I pick the dagger back up.

“Oh snap,” Gavin says, watching the showdown between us in amusement.

“Can I go now?” I ask, ready to get this over with. I don’t want to waste another minute worrying, not when I can barely keep the images of darkness from consuming me.

Jaxen nods. “We’ll head in after you and take the trainer’s trails. You won’t know where we are, but we’ll be keeping an eye on you in case something goes wrong. Good luck.”

I nod and take off without another word, because the next words to come would be, “Can I go home?”

I enter the forest and am surrounded by silence. My feet carry me step after step, over the uneven terrain of the forest. I dodge tree limbs and roots as they spring up in my path. The only sound is my breath and the crunch of underbrush beneath my feet. I feel like there are a thousand eyes on me, just waiting for the moment to devour me as I head deeper in. My pulse is erratic, and I know if I don’t get it under control, it’ll be a signal that will call out to all my predators.

In between breaths, I try to keep my eyes set on the path ahead of me, but I’m having a hard time focusing. The cold air is like ice in my lungs. My ears pound and burn with every deep breath I pull. My thighs have turned to stone and my arms feel like they’re on fire. I want to stop so badly, just to breathe, just to think, but I know I can’t. If I do, I’ll look weak. No, not look, I’ll
be
weak.

I can’t be weak. I have to push. I have to keep trying.

Every muscle in my body is stiff from the sweat that doesn’t even have a chance to pour down my face. It freezes before it gets very far. It shouldn’t be this hard. It’s
just
running. If I can’t do this, then how will I make it past any of the other training? How will I make it past the stuff that involves being knocked down repeatedly?

Shut it off.
Jaxen’s words repeat in my mind. It’s the only way I’m going to get through this. It’s the only way I stand a chance. I tell my mind the run feels good. The cold air is soothing to my lungs, and the ache in my body is pleasure. Never before in my life have I wanted to be a good liar. Never before in my life would I so desperately give in to a lie.

Pleasure. I think of the freedom I feel, the wind rushing past me, the control in my movements carrying me forward. The security I feel in knowing I am part Hunter. That’s pleasure.

Freedom.

The ache slowly disappears at the thought.

The trees disappear around me as I become one with the forest. Every step I take springs me up into the air until I land on the other foot. Every breath I take moves me further along the trail. Every thought I have consists of nothing but getting through this hazing without a scratch. I still clutch the dagger in my hand. I still feel a lingering fear in the back of my mind, but there’s no pain.

I don’t know how long I’ve been running, but I come up to a sharp curve in the trail. This has to be the turnaround point. A small cave sits high above me on elevated ground. I don’t stare into the hole. I don’t want to know what could be hiding within it. What lies in this enchanted forest is unaffected by the rules of the world outside it. Vampires can walk any time of the day. Werewolves can stay in their shifted forms.

And I could be the prey instead of the predator.

I take the curve with ease and fall into a steady pace. I think I’m in the clear, in the home stretch, but then I detect the scent of something unfamiliar, something a lot like blood and dark magic. My receptors are going crazy, sending warning signals to my brain. I slow my pace, throwing a glance over my shoulder. I don’t see anything but the fog and trees that are surrounded in menacing shadows.

My confidence begins to slip away from me as I slow to a stop. I turn around, facing the direction of the cave. Backing up cautiously, I tighten my grip around the hilt of the dagger. I wish I didn’t remember I’m just a girl. I wish I didn’t see the growing height of the forest around me. I wish I didn’t hear the trickling sounds of death within the silence.

I take in slow, deep breaths, urging my heart to calm down. I have to keep my pulse under control.
Keep going
, the voice inside my head says.
Keep moving.
I need to keep going. The closer I get to the edge of the forest, the closer I’ll be to escaping whatever lies within it. I turn on my heel, preparing to take off, when an icy hand grips my shoulder.

I spin around, slicing my dagger through the air, but there’s nothing to stab. My gaze darts around the forest, peering into every shadow, searching for whatever touched me, but I see nothing. Maybe I imagined it. Maybe I’m overreacting, but why does every bone in my body suddenly feel so brittle, so clumsy, so breakable?

I shake my head.
They’re watching you. Keep moving.
I take back off, heading down the path. It narrows, pushing me in between trees and low-hanging branches. Leaves and fog cover the foot path, making it hard to distinguish which way is which. I slow to a brisk walk, gluing my gaze to the floor. I don’t want to veer off the path. I don’t want to be stuck in this forest.

Sweat pours down the side of my face, pulsing with the beat of my heart. My hands are clenched at my sides and my jaw is tight with anticipation. Another chilling hand slides over my shoulder and down my arm. This time when I spin around, my hand with the dagger is caught mid-air by an iron-like grip.

“Let GO!” I scream out. I try to jerk away, and catch a glimpse of who’s holding me. Remarkably, I know what he is. A Vampire.

The shock alone flips the switch back on to my pain receptors. I feel every inch of every mile I’ve run so far. My lungs have been tossed into a raging fire. My muscles have been stripped of strength and filled with mush. My heart is a ragged beat away from stopping completely. It delivers adrenaline through my body with every rapid beat, strengthening me to fight back.

I throw a punch that never stood a chance at connecting with the Vampire’s jaw. He catches my other hand, and then throws me back against a tree. My back slams into the rough bark, sending shocks of cutting pain along my skin. By the time I open my eyes from wincing, the Vampire has already closed the distance between us. He jerks my head to the side, exposing my neck and baring his fangs.

I struggle underneath him, trying to break his grip on my arm so I can stab him, but fighting back isn’t necessary, not when it’s stolen by the man who thinks of me as incapable.

Like the Hunter he is, Jaxen is by my side, yanking the Vampire off of me as if he weighs nothing more than a breeze. The Vampire disappears in a swirl of black. Jaxen shoves me back behind him as he crouches down into an attack position. I wobble backward until I lose my footing along the slippery leaves and fall onto my butt. Cruel pain surges through my limbs and I wince, trying to breathe through it, trying to pull myself back together.