Everlasting (Night Watchmen, #1) (36 page)

He digs his hand further into his pocket and pulls me closer with the other as our feet sink in the snow. “Because, Weldon has something he wants to tell us, something about yesterday,” Jaxen says, sounding amused, his head tilted away from the onslaught of snow. A charcoal gray beanie covers his head and ears. The collar of his leather jacket is kicked up, protecting his neck.

When we get inside, not a soul is in sight. “Want to go through some drills?” Jaxen asks me, unlocking the weapon training room. I know I’m too exhausted, but I nod anyway. Every bit of training will only help me. He pulls out six daggers and hands three to me. “Throw it at the target. Best two out of three gets one favor from the other.”

“Any favor?” I ask, my brow drawn up in his direction.

A small smirk kicks up at the side of his mouth, waking a hibernating dimple. My heart leaps against my chest.

“You should do that more often,” I say, eyes shielded below my lashes.

He brushes against me, his smirk steadily growing into an easy smile. “Do what?” he asks, flipping the dagger in his hands. He’s already steadying himself, preparing to throw.

I tuck a lock of hair behind my ear and follow his steps, looking back at the target. “Smile. You should smile more.” I aim, and then throw, the daggers landing exactly where I wanted them to- the center of the forehead, the heart, and the knee.

He stares at the side of my face for a moment, lost in thought, and then readjusts his stance. By the time I look at him, he’s throwing his daggers, each aimed for the same spots. We walk over to the targets to retrieve the daggers.

“It looks like my dagger to the heart is dead on,” I say, peering over at his, “and yours…not so much.” He’s staring at the dagger, his face screwed up. He scratches his head, looking back over to my dagger.

“I’ve never not been dead on,” he says, sounding beyond baffled.

“You’ve also never been in…” I stop myself, the heater in my cheeks turned on full blast. I quickly pull the daggers out of the target and head back over to the line taped onto the ground.

He does the same, stopping next to me. I chew the inside of my lip, peering out the corner of my eye at him. I’m a twisted bundle of nerves, all waiting for his words, his touch, his love to untangle. I think I see his smirk resume out of the corner of my eye as he tosses the daggers in his hands again, and wonder what makes him smile now.

I don’t ask though, and neither does he. We throw the daggers again, and walk back over. The dagger I threw to the forehead was barely off by a centimeter, but all of his were perfect, so now we are one-to-one. We walk back to the tape and turn back around to face the dummies. He’s still smiling, and I’m still mortified.

The door opens behind us just as I adjust my stance, but I don’t turn. I want that favor. I put all of my focus into the dummy, aim, and then release. I already know without looking that I made my marks. I’m smiling now, the smile so bright it burns away the last bits of embarrassment. Gavin stands in between me and Jaxen, watching.

“Going to throw, brother?” he taunts.

Jaxen drops into his stance, and his smile fades into studied concentration. He aims, and then releases. The three of us make our way to the dummies.

“Playing the old game of hit or miss?” Gavin asks, looking between us. I immediately look at Jaxen’s dummy and can’t hide the winning smile. His dagger’s off just a smidgen in the knee. Gavin leans in, inspecting the dummy. “You lost!?” He looks up at me. “You beat him?” He runs a hand through his hair. “Wow, she must’ve really gotten in your head.”

Jaxen looks down to the ground. For a bone-chilling moment, I think he’s mad. I think he’s upset I won, but then a smile slips over his mouth, and he looks back up, his eyes landing on mine. “Good job. Looks like I owe you a favor,” he says holding his hand out. I hand him the daggers, contagiously smiling back at him.

I swear Gavin’s jaw drops as he looks between us. “Wait…who are you, and what have you done with my brother?” he asks Jaxen, running his hands over him. “You look like him. You,” he leans in and sniffs, “you sure as hell smell like him, but you aren’t acting like him.” He pinches Jaxen’s cheeks. “Your face muscles, I didn’t know they had the capacity to lift. I didn’t know you physically knew how to smile. I didn’t…”

“All right,” Jaxen says, laughing. He throws Gavin’s hands away from his face. “I get it.”

Gavin looks over at me. “Whatever magic you have, I want some. I haven’t been able to make this kid smile since before…well…”

“Before dad died and mom left,” Jaxen says seriously. He walks away, heading back to the weapon rack. Weldon walks in, and Jezi and Cassie follow behind him.

“It suits him,” I say, looking to the floor again. I want to explode with happiness, but I keep it contained.

“So why are we meeting in here?” Jezi asks Jaxen. Again she doesn’t look at me. I avoid the guilt I feel.

“So we can use you as a dummy,” Gavin says sarcastically. He winks at me and my mouth twitches in response, wanting to smile.

“Funny…not,” she says, huffing and crossing her arms. Cassie looks at her, dragging in a long breath, and then eyes Gavin down. He shrugs dismissively.

“I asked you all here because I think you should know that my brother held something back,” Weldon says, “the thing he’s forbidden to speak of. I put it together after we left, after I had time to stew on everything that was said.” He peers around cautiously, as if he had spent the entire night debating that speech.

“What are you talking about?” Jaxen asks, stirring out of his catacomb of thoughts.

“There’s this machine that Mourdyn created during his reign as the Darkyn Leader, and it has the ability to suck the power from anything hooked up to it. The Exanimator. It’s what the Darkyn Coven uses when a new Witch is initiated. It’s how those Witches have so much power.”

“That’s a myth,” Jaxen says, disbelief marring his face.

Weldon flaunts a presumptuous look. “Just like the Everlasting, right?” He waits, watching Jaxen’s face change from hard-pressed to slack. “I’ve seen it myself. How do you think I became this?” He gestures to his body. “I was hooked up to that damn machine, and they damn near drained me. I fought hard against it and managed to escape, thanks to Claire, but the effects of what they had done, because I was a Hunter, turned me into this.” His eyes change back to shining gold, and his body morphs into something dark and demonic. “Into something hungry for blood,” he says, his voice dark and otherworldly. He shifts back to his human side.

“I didn’t know,” Jaxen says somberly. “All this time, and you never told me.”

A hot sting of pain fills my heart. Sadness lingers in his golden eyes. He lost his Witch because she had sacrificed herself.

Weldon snorts bitterly. “Well, it’s not something you go around promoting, now is it? I learned a lot during my time in the Underground, including how to get in and out and about the machine’s true purpose, which is holding enough power to wake Mourdyn. The High Priesthood made me swear to secrecy.”

“So what does that machine have to do with her?” Jaxen asks, shifting the subject onto me to spare his friend the hurt clear in his eyes.

“Everything,” Weldon answers plainly. “When my brother informs the High Priesthood and Coven Leaders of the Darkyn Coven’s demand, it will only be the beginning. Once they learn of the Dagger half she possesses, they will surely use her if they can get to her first because the Dagger is a tool to unlock the Holy and Unholy seal. When they’re unlocked, the Veil will drop and the doorway to the Underground will open, clearing a path for our Coven. Securing the Exanimator is their chance at destroying the threat against us and preventing Mourdyn from being woken. They won’t pass this chance up and, in doing so, might just let out every foul thing held down there.”

My stomach stirs in discomfort. “What if I don’t want to do that?” I ask, fearing the answer he will surely give.

“In this world, there is nowhere to hide. There will always be someone in the shadows, waiting to take you to either side. You’ll either take that machine and destroy it, or you’ll become a part of it when the Darkyns suck your magic from you and use it to wake Mourdyn. You need to decide which side you’re on. When you do, be sure it’s a decision you can live with.”

I just stare at him, unable to look away, unable to do anything for that matter. Jaxen’s hand rests on my back, coaxing me to look at him, but I can’t move. I’m in a catatonic state, my mind finally having reached its limit on absorbing what is my shitty reality for the day. I close my eyes, feeling so close, yet so far from my parents.

“This just became a whole lot more complicated,” I say, rubbing my temples as if it will dull the pounding behind my eyes. It won’t. Nothing will, not now. There’s no turning back.

“And that’s why we should reconsider before Mack returns,” Jaxen says.

“You can’t just go off of what he says,” Jezi says, flicking a hateful glare at Weldon. “His kind can’t be trusted.”

“And just what ‘kind’ am I?” Weldon asks, his chest puffing out as he turns to Jezi.

She pops her hip out and whips her dark hair over her shoulder when she turns to face him. “Oh, you know what I’m talking about. You’re not one of us. You don’t belong here, and we sure as hell should have never been put on this mission with you.”

“Jezibelle,” Jaxen warns.

Gavin rolls his eyes all the way over to Cassie, who looks at him knowingly. She grabs his hand and squeezes and says, “Jezi, come on. Be fair.”

“Be fair?” Jezi asks, punching her hands in the air at her sides. “What’s with you people? Don’t you see what’s happening? Ever since she,” she says, pointing at me, “has come into our lives, there’s been nothing but trouble. She’s a magnet for it. If any of you had any sense in your heads, you’d realize this and bail out.”

“A true Watchman isn’t a quitter,” Gavin says, “and we sure as hell don’t abandon our own just ‘cause shit gets real.” The lowness of his words and the way his eyes disappear beneath his brow suggests he’s had enough. Cassie grips his forearm.

A harsh, bitter, very vindictive laugh plunges from her mouth, filling the air with every vile feeling within her. When she finishes, she settles her eyes between me and Jaxen and says, “Tell that to your brother.” And with that, she walks out.

I
follow Jezi out the
door. This has got to end. Someone has to put her in her place, and that someone is looking a lot like me. Jaxen’s on my heels until he catches up and shoves the door separating me from the snow storm open. Jezi’s standing in the breezeway, wrapped inside her jacket and tugging on a cigarette.

“Jezibelle,” Jaxen says with the tone of a father. The corners of his mouth are tilted downward and his shoulders are tense, but he approaches her with care, like she’s a rabid animal caught in a trap.

She exhales forcefully and looks up at him with two small, sad lakes in her eyes. She doesn’t have to say anything. All the pain is written in the few droplets that fall down her cheek.

His shoulders slouch when he sees this. I back up a step, not wanting to intrude. “When is this going to end?” he asks, reaching for her arm. “This is beneath you. You’re better than this.”

“Am I?” she counters, her words trembling in time with her bottom lip. “Because I don’t really know who I am anymore. I don’t know who anyone is.” She tugs on her cigarette again, the end burning bright red. Her eyes dart over to the mark on my arm hidden beneath layers of clothing.

“It’s been rough on us all, Jezi. We have to stick together. We have to stay strong.”

She snorts and looks over at me before rolling her eyes. “Keep telling yourself that, Jaxen. You,” she curses, blowing smoke toward me.

I move closer, every muscle in my body awake and ready for whatever she wants to throw at me. “The one and only,” I say unenthusiastically. She narrows her eyes. “Listen,” I say, “We can’t very well do what needs to be done if you are continuously hating me. And as far as the three of us sharing an affinity mark, that has to mean something. Maybe something good. When the craziness of this Dagger ends, we can figure it out. I want to settle whatever this is between us. ”

“And I want world peace…looks like we both lose.” She waves her hand, dismissing me, and tries to walk off.

I have other plans. I yank the cigarette from her mouth, ignoring the flash of rage across her face. I meet her glare and hold my own as she squares up to me, her nose inches from mine. “This needs to end,” I repeat firmly.

“Then leave Jaxen alone,” she says just as firmly. Her hazel eyes are charged with power. “Shared mark or not, he’s mine. He’s been mine for the past four and a half years.”

I throw my hands up into the air, looking to the sky. “Here we go, beating the dead horse again. Let’s say I leave him alone, and then what, Jezi? You know that even if I walked away from him, he still wouldn’t be yours. Not in that way.” Although my heart feels like it’s going to beat right out of my chest, I keep my breathing level, not showing any fear. I have to get through to her. I have to show her I’m not a threat. I scratch my forehead, taking in an encouraging breath.

She tenses, her eyes flickering away from mine for a moment, but returning with more rage than I can fathom. “You don’t know the first thing about us. You think you can come in here and just take over? Become the only thing he needs? Be the one who saves him? He needs me!” she says, pointing forcibly to her chest.

“Of course he needs you,” I say, this time a little more gently. “I don’t have any intention of replacing you.”

She flicks her gaze uncomfortably between the both of us, not knowing who to land on. “Intentions or not,” she says, her voice faltering, “what will he need me for if he has you? You hold the power of both. There are endless possibilities to what you can do, and what he can do with you. I feel our affinity bond weakening the more he falls for you.” She breaks off and looks away, chewing on the inside of her mouth.

I let my hand settle on her arm and catch her gaze. “He’ll always need you, Jezi. You’re his Witch. That’s irreplaceable.” I wish I could believe my own words, but I don’t know anything anymore. Every truth I’ve ever believed has been altered and twisted into something none of us can interpret, none of us can trust.

Millenniums pass as her breath hitches in and out of her throat. Tension settles behind me, swelling off of Jaxen. I don’t know what to say anymore. I don’t know how to make it right, because I can’t leave Jaxen alone. He’s mine. He always has been.

“Jezi, we’ve had this discussion,” Jaxen says on an exhale. “I’ve got your back. We both agreed to not do this. Everything will be fine.”

“It won’t. I’ve seen it,” she says, her words so quiet I almost miss them.

“Seen what?”

When she looks at me, her smile’s a little crooked and a little sad, like she’s finally letting herself come to terms with whatever is going on inside her head. “After you were attacked at the Academy, I took a piece of your hair and casted a divination spell. I had to know what we were getting ourselves into, what the Coven was setting us up for. I saw you two…joining together, but what I also saw was pain and misery and an inevitable choice that he will have to make. A choice between me and you.”

“I would never let that happen, Jezi. I would walk away before he had to. No one should have to choose something like that,” I profess, sure that she’s wrong.

“He will choose whether you want him to or not,” she admits sorrowfully, her eyes finding his over my shoulder. She pulls out another cigarette. I don’t stop her this time.

“So then what?” I ask blindly, feeling him slipping through my fingers.

“That’s up to you.” All anger and resentment has left her. It’s like she’s cleansed herself by getting that off her chest, but in turn, I’ve absorbed it. “But what I’ve seen will happen. Even if you try to deny it, it won’t last. Your paths are intertwined by something stronger than any affinity bond.”

“You’re just upset. You’re not thinking clearly. Nothing is going to happen,” Jaxen says, sounding tired and beyond over the conversation.

Her head snaps around. “It came to me in a set of images and symbols that don’t lie. Don’t you dare doubt me.”

“I’m going inside,” Jaxen says, walking away from her.

She looks at me, her eyes wild with magic. “Whatever happens, you can’t change fate,” she says.

“Funny that you say that, considering your attitude toward a certain someone who was in the same boat years ago.”

Her eyebrows meet in the center of her forehead. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Why were you so rude to Weldon?” I ask. “What he did for his brother…how he became what he is...it was out of nobility and out of his hands. In my opinion, that’s something to be admired.”

“Who said your opinion mattered? This is off-topic. He is what he is now, and that’s frowned upon by our kind,” she says coldly, smoke billowing out with her words. “He can’t be trusted.”

“I saw what happened to him,” I say, feeling the need to stick up for him. “When he touched me…”

“Witches have that ability, Faye. We can see into people’s minds. Remember?” She leans forward and flicks the ash off her cigarette, and then leans back, looking back at me expectantly.

“As I was saying,” I say as collectedly as I can manage, “what happened to him was worse than anything you could imagine, Jezi. He was tortured and had part of his
Hunter abilities ripped from him, all for the love of his brother, and when he returned, his welcome party was banishment from those he loved.”

She flicks her cigarette down into the snow, my words seeming to go through one ear and out the other. “Look, I can’t help how I feel, and you trying to guilt me isn’t going to work. I’m the wronged one here, through and through. Just remember what I said.” She walks off into the storm.

I think about calling after her, but don’t. I just watch her disappear behind a sheet of white. She is just as stubborn as Jaxen, just as hard to get through, but knowing Jaxen, I know there’s a way. There has to be. There’s a crack in her tough shell, and I’ll find it one way or another.

I walk back inside and find them huddled around Gavin on the phone. I don’t know how I could wake up to the brightest sun, only to have it eclipsed by reality. My ability to use both powers, my purpose within the Coven, I feel like we are on the cusp of realizing it and I’m not sure I’m ready for that. All I want is to save my parents…not be a tool in finding a machine meant for torturing, not for finding a dagger that has the ability to cast someone to the Underground, and then wake them back up.

Gavin hangs the phone up and looks at all of us. His face is paler than before. His smile is long gone. Cassie leans on his shoulder, staring up at him. “That was Mack. He wants us to meet him at his wiccan shop right away.”

“Wait…Mack has a wiccan shop?” I ask, confused.

“It’s his hobby,” Weldon says dryly.

“Anyway, it seems it’s time,” Gavin continues. “He’s spoken with the High Priesthood. They want her to complete the Dagger. They will send Elite Watchmen to Whiskey Hallow which is where they believe the other half rests.”

“So why don’t they just go get it themselves?” Jaxen asks, pulling me against him protectively.

“Because,” Gavin says, looking directly at me, “she’s the only one who has the power to touch it and put it back together.”

We arrive at Mack’s wiccan
shop close to noon and find him in the back eating lunch, which consists of a deli-made pastrami sandwich and a bag of plain potato chips. In his free hand is a small notebook with scribbling all over the cover. Papers and maps are scattered on the table, making it look like an auditor’s field day. He sets his half-eaten sandwich down and dusts his hands over his plate before looking up at us.

“You’re late,” he says dryly. He reaches for his glass of what I assume is alcohol because of the amber color, and takes a short sip, smacking his lips after swallowing.

“We’re here,” Weldon says dismissively. “Although, I don’t know why we had to meet here.” He eyes the room and walks over to the liquor cabinet perched next to the refrigerator. He pulls out a glass and flicks a glance over his shoulder, asking for any takers. Gavin raises a finger.

“By all means, my home is your home,” Mack says, but there’s no welcome in his tone when he looks at his brother pouring his whiskey into two cups. He gestures to the
chair next to him, asking me to sit. “And I asked you here because I can speak freely within these walls, and frankly, it’s time that I do.”

“About the Exanimator?” I ask as I sit.

His face pales a couple shades at the mention of the machine.

“Fresh out of words, brother?” Weldon says with a slight snicker. He looks pleased with himself and even more pleased with me.

His eyes widen, but only for a moment, and then he peers over at Weldon. “I see my brother has filled you in on the truth.”

“He has,” Jaxen says in a low voice, taking a seat next to me around the table. Jezi, Gavin, and Cassie sit on the other side near Mack. I gaze around the table, my mind on overdrive with all the information laid out before me. The maps look like some sort of underground tunneling network. Letters are half-opened and addressed to names I haven’t heard of. Books are stacked one on top of the other, the subjects ranging from Coven Myths to Decoding and Breaking Traps.

“What’s all this stuff?” I ask, running my fingers over as many papers as I can.

Mack’s hand lands on top of mine, squeezing. “It’s Coven property. Documents taken from the Sacred Library in Ethryeal City. It’s everything ever written about the Dagger of Retribution. These words have the answer to putting the
Dagger back together, the spell needed to mend the blade, but it requires one who possesses both powers.” He looks at me. “It requires you.”

I swallow. “And if I don’t want to go through with this?”

A sad smile lifts the wrinkles around his mouth. “Young child, you have no choice. You’re bound by this Coven. You’ve taken the blood oath to become a Night Watchman. This is your order. This is your assignment, and you must fulfill it or risk being banished, or worse, sentenced to the Underground.”

Jaxen’s fists connect with the table, sending the papers scattering through the air, and then lifts Mack up by his collar before any of us have time to react. Mack’s legs dangle in the air as rage takes over his features. His skin turns red and his lips tremble as his voice picks up. “You put me down this instant, you insubordinate…”