Everlasting (Night Watchmen, #1) (23 page)

My stomach sinks. “What?” I can feel my face flush.

Jaxen left?

“Wait…you didn’t know?” she asks. Something in her tone tells me she’s enjoying this. I’m entertainment for her.

I shake my head. He didn’t say anything. He just left. Completely. “I thought he was supposed to be training me.”

She shrugs again. “Guess Mack needed him.”

Or he needed an excuse to get away.

“Look, I uh…I know about you and Jaxen.”

My mouth opens in shock and then shuts. Although I know I don’t have to explain myself to her, I can’t stop myself from speaking. “Nothing is going on between us. He made that painfully clear to me.” I regret admitting it out loud. I regret even speaking about it, but I do feel better having said it. Like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.

“He’s lying. Denial is a Gramm trait. Listen,” she says, reaching for my hand, “I think you’re good for him, and I hope you don’t give up on him. I wouldn’t say this to Jezi of course, but he needs someone like you, and honestly, I haven’t seen him smile this much since I met him.”

I can’t help but blush. “Yeah, well, I don’t think it will get very far. He doesn’t want to open up, and you can’t force the heart.”

“No, but you can help it along. He’ll come around. He’s been through a lot. He needs what you have to offer- honesty, strength, no ties to death. Gavin and I…”

My hand flies up to my mouth. I hadn’t even thought about them, about the way Gavin looks at her so lovingly. “Oh no, Cassie.”

She holds her hand up, her smile turning a little sad. “It’s okay. He can’t help it. He loves me. You can’t deny what the heart feels, no matter how hard you try.”

“Don’t I know that, but there has to be a way, right? A way to break the curse?”

She laughs, bitterness puffing around the musical sound. “Sure, if you want to make a deal with a Demon. Believe me, Jezi and I still continue to search for a way. There’s always a way, it’s just a matter of finding it, but with no one knowing who placed the curse on their bloodline and why, it makes it hard to undo.”

“How long?”

“‘Til we croak?” she says, shrugging a little. “I don’t know.  Thirties seems to be the magic number. That’s the prime, right? Long enough to build a strong love and family, but too short to enjoy it?” She smiles, but I can see the strain. I reach for her hand, feeling overwhelming heartache and guilt. “Just don’t give up on him, okay? Jezi will eventually let her anger toward you go. She just needs some time to adjust to the fact that she couldn’t be the one to make him open up. It’s hard when you’re in an affinity bond.”

I nod, biting my lip. It doesn’t feel good to be on the outside of it either, fighting for someone who won’t even fight for himself.

“Jaxen will come around in his own time. They always do. You have to realize that guys have feelings too, no matter how suppressed they are.”

Her phone beeps in her back pocket. She takes it out and looks at it. “It’s Gavin. I have to go meet him.” She puts it back in her pocket and looks at me. “Look, I’m here if you need me.” She gets up and bends over the desk, writing something down on the
notepad. “Here’s my number. Call whenever.” She flashes the paper at me before setting it back down. “See you tomorrow in training.”

“Thanks, Cassie,” I say, smiling as she walks out the door.

I stare off out the window. She’s right. Jaxen does have feelings, all linking to the fact that he’ll inevitably lose his life to something he cannot control. What he doesn’t realize is that death is not the tragedy of life. The tragedy is never truly living the time you have.

And I don’t know if I could live with myself if I didn’t try.

T
he next morning, after my
jog, I meet up with Gavin outside the gymnasium. He’s patiently waiting for me out front, dressed in sweats and smiling despite standing in the middle of a freezing cold breeze. Though I know how to shut off my pain receptors, I’m still learning how to call it on and off at will. It seems my best moments happen under pressure.

“Hey,” I say when I approach him. I force myself to look him in the eye even though I don’t want to. I don’t want him to see the hurt I feel underneath, the hurt that won’t go away.

“Hey,” he says with a bright, easy smile. “Since I’m going solo today with training, I figured we could work on your gun skills. Even though a lot of the paranormals we handle require our volation for entrapment, there are still some, like Werewolves and other beasts, which can be handled with guns and knives. Basically, we try to be as versatile as possible. You never know what you’ll need to use.”

“Got it,” I say, turning my thoughts to the training ahead.

He pulls the door open, and then directs me down the hall to the weapons room. “There’s a shooting range just past the track,” he says as he unlocks the weapons cabinet. He grabs two hand guns, tucks one into his pants, and advises me to do the same with the other.

My eyes go wide for a second.

He chuckles. “Don’t worry. The safety is on.”

I tuck it into my pants, the cold metal sending chills over my skin. He grabs two shot guns, hands them to me, and then shuts the cabinet. “We’ll start with these. It’s fairly simple, so we’ll spend the first part of our day on this, and the last half in the gym.” He looks me over. “Building and maintaining muscle is essential, especially when we move into live combat.” He takes one of the shot guns and rests it against his shoulder like a soldier marching into battle.

I do the same, feeling the weight of the gun rest comfortably against my shoulder. Nerves flitter in my stomach. Live combat? Who would be my opponent? I follow him out of the gymnasium to the shooting range. By the time I get there, I’ve managed to shut my receptors off entirely. I let the freezing chill in the air be the driving force behind it. We trod through the snow and over to the wooden overhang where the range is. Large mounds of hay and snow sit down range, waiting with targets to be struck.

“We’re going to start with the hand gun,” he says. “Have you shot anything before?”

“No.”

“Well, today is your lucky day,” he says. He walks over to a small cabinet nailed to a wooden post and opens it. He grabs two pairs of protective glasses and ear muffs. “Let’s not waste the morning. Here, put this on.” He hands me the gear as he slides bullets into the clip for the handgun. He slips on his ear muffs, and then walks over to the x on the ground, waiting for me to get on it. I do, and push my ear muff back enough to hear him, waiting for his instructions. “Make sure you have a firm grip on the gun,” he says, standing close to me. He puts the gun in my hands and ensures I keep it pointed at the ground. “Safety’s on, but never point a loaded gun unless you’re ready to shoot it.” He eyes me up and down. “And widen your stance a little. You need to have a good center, good balance.”

I widen my stance, giving me enough space for leverage, and bring my arms up to point the gun at the target down the range. After tightening my grip around the handle, I peer over at him.

“Focus is one of the most important things when shooting. You always want to be aware of what’s in your line of fire and what’s around it. You don’t want to hit the wrong thing,” he instructs. I survey the area in front of me, which is still a large mound of snow without a soul in sight.

“Your grip also needs to be a bit higher on the butt. This is what will help you control the recoil after you fire.” He carefully adjusts my hand, and then wraps my supporting hand around the other side. I bend my knees a little, getting into the stance, and then close one eye, focusing on aligning the gun with the target. “When you’re ready to fire, ease your finger against the trigger.”

He places my ear muff back over my ear. I must be ready. I feel ready. I breathe in and out, letting everything disappear around me. All that matters is the target. I
squeeze the trigger the rest of the way. The gun fires, and my hands jerk up, but only just a little. I was so tense with anticipation that I think it helped control the recoil. When I open both eyes, Gavin’s grinning. I hit the target dead center.

Gavin claps, the muffled sound causing me to grin. “Again,” he says with the enthusiasm of a teacher.

I squeeze through two rounds of ammunition, each hitting near or dead center on the target, before he lets me move on to the bigger gun. He runs through similar instructions, all preparing me for the jolt I’ll feel in my shoulder when the gun fires. When I line up with my target and breathe through the shot, the recoil sends me stumbling back a few steps.

I pull my shirt aside. A red welt already forms along my skin. “Battle wounds,” Gavin says, slapping me on the back hard enough to rattle my teeth. I scowl at him. He laughs, which in turn makes me smile. “Again, kick ass.”

I press the gun hard against my shoulder and position myself, this time ready for the harsh recoil. He lets me get through three more rounds, and then takes his turn showing me the smoothness of a skilled marksman. His execution is deadly, blowing through nearly the same hole with every shot with both guns. An hour passes before he feels satisfied that I can handle myself behind the cold metal.

“You uh… you pick up quick,” he says as he leans down to pick up the empty shells.

“Thanks,” I say as I carry the muffs and protective goggles over to the cabinet. I hear him sigh heavily behind me and brace myself. You only ever sigh like that when you’re about to say something you don’t want to, but have to. And when it comes to Gavin, there’s only one common subject between us that weighs that much.

“There’s something you should know about Jaxen,” Gavin says softheartedly after I turn around.

I huff at the mention of his brother. “That he’s an egotistical, cold-hearted man-child?”

A knowing smile picks at the corners of his mouth. “You figured it out that quickly?”

I smile a little. “It wasn’t very hard to spot.” It feels good to say it out loud and have someone else agree. Gavin’s the complete opposite of Jaxen- calm, kind, and collected.

Gavin smiles and says, “The truth is, our father died when he was 13, and shortly after, our mother left us.” His eyes harden a little. “When she left, she took something from him that could never be replaced, no matter how hard I tried. She took his innocence, his faith in people. He’s had a rough childhood.” The bitterness in his words is unavoidable and deeply rooted.

But what he says makes sense. It gives reason to the fear I saw in Jaxen’s eyes.

“He told me his father died, but I didn’t know the whole of it. I didn’t realize,” I say, feeling regret for what I had said to him. Though what he said was equally hurtful, it still didn’t sit well with me. Katie always told me to stay clear from the wounded ones, but there’s just something about Jaxen that I know I won’t be able to stay away from, no matter how hard he tries to push me away.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” I add, my veil of confidence growing thinner by the second.

He waves the apology away. “It was a long time ago. Jaxen has had a rough time letting people in ever since. You can’t take it personally, and you also can’t worry that he won’t protect you. I know he said what he said, but my brother is one of the most loyal people you’ll ever meet. It’s the Gramm way. We can be loyal to a fault at times.”

Don’t I know the truth in that? I was loyal to Katie, only to have it blow up in my face. It makes me think of something my mother said to me once about my father. She said that it’s usually the ones who are the most resistant to love who love the deepest and are the most loyal.

“Does Jaxen know that Jezi’s in love with him?” I ask boldly. I know I’m opening a can of worms and possibly placing him in an awkward position, but it feels easy talking to Gavin. He’s honest. He’s a good listener. He understands people.

“Yeah.”

“Does he…does he feel the…”

He notices my struggle. “The same? No,” he finishes for me.

“Is it because of the curse?”

He shakes his head. “At one point, when they first started at the Academy and were paired together, I thought maybe there was a chance, but I should have known better. Of course he’s protective of her, but he’s never let himself close enough to her to give his heart a chance, and honestly, I don’t think they would have worked out had he tried. He’s a martyr. He will die for what he believes is right.”

“Like not allowing someone else to die for him in the name of love,” I say.

“Exactly.” He looks off, conflicting thoughts swarming behind his bright blue eyes. “But then again, who am I to say anything?” he says with a shrug.

“You’re his older brother,” I point out.

He forces out a sad smirk. “Yeah, and sometimes I wish I could be more like him instead, more closed off.” His eyes darken and glisten with emotion. “At least for Cassie’s sake.”

“Gavin,…”

“Ready for weight lifting?” He pushes forth a thin smile. He doesn’t want to talk about it, and I’m not going to push him. It’s hard enough admitting the feelings you have for those you love, let alone admitting they are for selfish reasons.

“I’ve waited my whole life,” I say with sarcasm.

He shakes his head, chuckling to himself as we make our way back down the hill toward the gymnasium. At least with weight training, I can zone everything out and just be.

When Gavin and I finish
lifting weights, my legs and arms are heavy with exhaustion. Gavin slaps me on the back, a move I’m beginning to grow fond of. “Good work. Now go shower. The girls are here.” I look behind us, but don’t see them. He must have heard Cassie telepathically then.

“See you tomorrow,” I say with a casual wave, walking for the door.

By the time I make it to the door, he says, “Oh hey, tomorrow we’ll be doing more fight training, so be prepared.” He wiggles his eyebrows, setting a set of 50-pound dumbbells back on the rack.

“Great,” I say and then walk out, heading for the locker room. Functioning like a normal person is out of the question. Even opening my locker to change hurts, but I manage anyway, keeping my receptors turned off. There’s just too much hurt to feel, mentally and physically.

After I finish in the shower, I find Cassie and Jezi standing outside of the gymnasium.

Cassie tosses me a peanut butter sandwich. “We don’t have time for lunch in the dining hall,” she says. I put the sandwich to my lips, my stomach growling, and take a gracious bite.

“Bull. She’s not
allowed
to be in the dining hall,” Jezi corrects, casting a hateful glare in my direction. “And nice bruise by the way,” she says, using her finger to circle the air around my eye. “The purple really brings out the blue in your eyes.”

I forcefully swallow, but don’t find any sudden anger rushing me. Being able to not feel at will has its perks.

“Jezibelle,” Cassie says sharply.

“It’s fine,” I say to Cassie. “One of the perks of being a Hunter is my ability to not give a shit. And I don’t, Jezibelle.” I make sure I’m looking dead at Jezi.

There’s enough attitude on her face to kill someone on the spot. “That won’t last forever,” she says knowingly. “You have to face your screw ups and wrong doings eventually.”

Cassie’s still glaring at her when she speaks to me. “We’re going back to the Witches Quarters to work with your Grimoire today.” She gives me a sympathetic smile.

“My Grimoire? It’s back in my room.”

“No worries,” she says with a casual wave. “Calling it to you is all a part of the lesson.” She pats my back, reminding me of Gavin, and guides me forward toward the Witches Quarters. Jezi stays in front of us, her arms crossed over her chest.

In the Quarters, an enthusiastic buzz fills the hallway as first and second year novices leave their classes and head for lunch in the dining hall. Without trying, I spot Katie up ahead, walking between Jia and Todd. Her head’s hanging and Todd has his arm over her shoulder.