Everlasting (Night Watchmen, #1) (39 page)

I open my eyes, and it’s Weldon in front of me. His face is a mask of blood and pain. His fists are bloodied too. One look and I know things have gone wrong. Horribly wrong.

“Faye?” He’s snapping his fingers in front of me. “Faye, you can’t go lights out on me now. Come on, we have to keep moving until I get us on holy ground. Say something.” He looks behind him and back at me, his face painted in worry. Gunshots and magic fire in the distance. Screams pierce the air. “Please. We don’t have any time left.”

I smile, but it’s not a happy smile, not the kind I’d give in the arms of Jaxen. It’s the kind I’d give when trying not to cry, the kind that says I’m okay, when really I’m not. He pulls me to my feet and shakes me a little until the words come loose in my mouth.

“Weldon.” It’s all I can manage, but it’s enough to make him exhale in relief.

“Damn, you had me scared for a moment. Come on, we have to run. I can’t risk moving you in shadows. Not now.” He grabs my hands and moves for me, pulling me back through the forest we came through. I can hear the screams behind me as the hunt for my soul begins. Bael’s angered cry of war shakes the forest around us. Crows scatter out of trees, animals whip past us, and fire…fire licks the ground in a wave, taking everything in its path.

It singes the back of my boots and I scream. Not again. I don’t want to see him again. Weldon pulls harder, but no matter how hard he pulls, Bael’s fury is faster. The fire makes its way up the back of my leg, and I topple forward and roll in the snow, trying to make the agonizing burn stop.

“Shit!” Weldon curses as he drops down and pats the remaining embers on my leg. I don’t look, but I can tell by the look on his face that it’s not good. I can feel the way my skin has melted away. There’s no way I can move, not like this. Not even if I shut the pain off.

He lifts me up over his shoulder as the wave of fire catches up to us. Sheer determination is the only thing moving him now. “We have to use shadows.” He darts to the left and carries me into a small shadow behind a tree. Inside the shadow is nothing like before. Fire is everywhere, all around us. It’s suffocating, and I know I’ll die by it. I’m trembling from shock and pain, and bile makes its way up my throat and into my mouth

“It’s not real,” Weldon says, carrying us forward.

Images come and go. My eyes are growing heavy. My mind is shutting down. The pain is everywhere, all over. I feel like my soul is on fire. I feel Bael’s hands around my throat, squeezing the air out of me. I feel his hands around my heart, squeezing the life from me.

We step out of a shadow and appear on the highway. A
truck whizzes by us and would have run us over if it wasn’t for Weldon jumping back in time. The harsh movement warrants the vomit from my mouth, and it spills onto the ground.

“Shit,” he says, spinning us around. “Just hang on, Faye.” Another car approaches from behind, and Weldon waves a hand out, getting the car to slow to a stop. The guy driving rolls his window down.

“Are you all…”

Weldon doesn’t even blink. He sets me down, punches the guy, opens the door, pulls him out and lays him on the side of the road, and carries me to the passenger side. He sets me in as if I’m made of porcelain, and then rushes over to the other side.

My body shudders and jerks violently. My mind is as still as a frozen lake. I think my leg is still on fire and I scream, reaching for it, swatting at it.

“Stop!” Weldon yells as he presses his foot on the gas. “It’s not real, Faye. You’ve been burnt by Demon Fire. It’s a way to track you, to slow you down. I have to get us to safe ground, but I need you to shut it off right now. Turn it all off.”

“Jaxen,” my lips chatter out.

He breathes, and I swear an eternity passes before he says, “I don’t know.”

I’m nodding, though I don’t know why. Denial, maybe? Everything fades in and out of focus. All I can see is Jaxen, hurting, scared, alone. My thoughts engorge on my imagination, and I’m bursting at the seams. My eyes are oceans of guilt spilling into the car. Jaxen was taken and possibly killed. And everyone else...

“Faye?”

I have to save them. I have to go back…turn myself in…offer myself over. My head pounds, and my body shivers from the stark contrast of being soaked in sweat and surrounded by the cold.

“Faye, everything will be okay. They’ll make it out.”

His words mean nothing. They are sounds in air that I pull in and out of my lungs. They won’t bring Jaxen to me. They won’t undo what’s been done. Sharp pain sears the palm of my hand, and I realize I’m gripping one of the blades, squeezing as hard as I can. I open both hands, one-half covered in my blood, and the other in Bael’s.

“You have it?” Weldon asks, peering over at me from the steering wheel.

I don’t speak. I close my hands again and shut my eyes. I know Bael’s on our trail. I know he won’t stop until he has me and the Dagger, and I know Jaxen and everyone else is out there, waiting for someone to rescue them. But there’s something pushing on my brain, something like fatigue. It turns my eyelids into heavy steel that wants to shut.

So they do.

“F
aye?”

I don’t want to wake up. I know if I do, then Jaxen will disappear. His arms won’t be wrapped around me. I won’t be safe under his loving gaze. I won’t feel complete in knowing that we finally let ourselves find happiness in each other, but someone pets my hand and it tickles. And that voice. I know that voice.

My eyes open and I try to move, but I’m stiff like a corpse. I can barely move my neck. But that voice. My heart’s in my throat, beating back to life. Jaxen’s face comes into view, though he’s not the person I left in the woods. His eye is swollen and looks like a painter’s palette, smeared with blacks, blues, and purples. His nose is slightly crooked with scabbed blood around the edges. His lips are cracked with dried blood that move every time his lips do.

Without thinking, I reach up and caress his face. He smiles, but the pain is clear in the slight wincing. He’s run-down and running on fumes. “You’re here,” I say, almost unable to believe it.

He leans into my hand and closes his eyes. His voice sounds raspy, broken, and filled with stifled fear. “And you’re safe. I was so worried.”

“I thought…”

His good eye opens. “We managed to get away. The Demons weren’t hard to take when the Elite Watchmen showed up. But you…we didn’t know. We weren’t sure. Weldon was our only hope. Thank God for him.” There’s so much emotion in his gaze, so many unspoken words, I nearly melt into my bed. I want to melt into him and stay there forever.

He leans down and steals my lips into his, kissing me with more emotion than he’s ever kissed me with before. His fingers weave through my hair, and we hold each other, kissing through the pain…kissing away the pain. I stop for air, but can’t seem to get enough as I drink in the details of his bruised body. I hurt for him. I want to hurt those who hurt him. He takes my fingers and runs them over his bruises, then brings them up to his lips and kisses them.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he admits, his eyes devouring me. “I don’t ever want to feel that again.” He presses his forehead against mine and shuts his eyes, breathing raggedly. He pulls me close against him, and I can hear his heart beating, steady and strong.

“You kept your promise,” I say, glad that my favor came in handy despite the many bruises that cover him.

“I did,” he agrees, smiling.

“Where are we?”

He inhales deeply and seems to return to himself. “At a church.”

My eyes widen, and my cheeks bloom in color.

He laughs softly, painfully, and winces. “Right now, it’s the safest place for us. Fortunately, we made it to one owned by the Watchmen. They have underground networks of safe houses for situations such as these. We’ll be here for awhile, at least until we heal and the Elders give us our next orders. That is, unless you want to leave.”

I look up at him. “You know we can’t. There’s nowhere to hide,” I admit. “Not now.”

He smiles sadly, knowing I’m right. I lean away from him and move my eyes to the white bed sheet covering my legs, covering
the
leg. I can’t feel anything, but I’m too scared to look. I don’t want to see the damage. I hate that reality has snuck its way between us again. I hate that I have questions. I want to go back to kissing. I want to go back to dreaming and pretending that nothing exists outside of his arms, but I can’t and neither can he. I can see it in his eyes.

“The Academy… Did they try to counter attack? Did they…”

“Katie’s fine,” he says, dispelling the thought before it can leave my mouth. Relief fills every part of my being. Katie’s okay. At least one of us is. “Bael and the Darkyns dropped off the radar shortly after we arrived here. They probably went back to lick their wounds and form a new plan.”

“The Dagger?” My hands are playing with the sheet instead of roaming the chiseled planes of his body.

“It’s with Mack. He’s here.” He shifts in his seat, and I know it’s not good news. “He wants you to complete it.”

“And then what?” I stare at the strength in his eyes and force myself to be just as strong. Silence ticks like the hands of a clock.

He closes his eye and clenches his jaw. “And then you go to Ethryeal City. Bael and the Darkyns can’t touch you there, and until we form a solid plan, it’s the safest place for you to be.”

I look away, swallow a million times, and still can’t find the words to describe how I feel. My mouth opens and closes and nothing comes out. I run a hand through my hair and pull my knees to my chest. “But I…” I shake my head and close my eyes. “I just…this is happening way too fast.”

His hand is on my hand and his lips are on my forehead, kissing me gently. “I know. Believe me, I know.”

A knock on the door and he’s up out of his seat. There’s a limp in his walk. He leans heavily on his left side, holding his right thigh. Blood coats the back of his jeans. He was shot. My heart shrivels with sadness.

He peeks his head out the door and whispers back and forth with someone, a male someone.

It’s then that I let my eyes roam over where we are. White barren walls. White candles lit with herbs burning to encourage natural healing. A large metal bowl next to my bed with bloodied water and blood-stained pieces of cloth. Open bandage wrappers are piled next to it. Cold metal instruments are scattered aimlessly around the table.

I’m clothed in a long sleeve black shirt. I brush the sheet aside. I’m wearing black sweatpants, only the fabric on the left leg has been cut all the way up past my knee. My leg’s wrapped in white gauze, covering the evidence of my torture.

Gavin walks in, and I pull the sheet back over me and look up.

“Hey,” he says, looking me over. “You’re awake.”

I muster up a half-smile. He’s in as bad a shape as Jaxen. His shirt’s off and his arm is taped to his side with a bandage near his shoulder. He was shot too. His face is bruised and bloodied, though his eyes are untouched.

He clears his throat and shifts on his feet. “We’re needed in the main hall. Mack says it’s time.”

Dread like tiny spiders crawls down my spine. I glance between him and Jaxen, both having their faces pointed to the ground. This is it. This is where the last bit of choice I have left is taken from me, and there’s nothing I can do. I’m as helpless as I was back in that cave. I might as well be back in that cave.

“Faye?” Jaxen says, grabbing both my hands. He brushes the hair from my face and guides me to look at him. “I won’t let anything happen to you.” He casts a glance over his shoulder at his brother and says, “We won’t let anything happen to you. Okay?”

I nod in his hands and kiss his lips, taking the calm he offers. He helps me up, and pain shoots up my back and all the way to the back of my brain from my leg. I grit my teeth and squeeze his offered hand.

“Shut it off,” he says.

I do. I do because I have to, even though I don’t want to.

He guides me down a narrow white hall lined with viewing windows. White curtains are drawn, keeping me from knowing who’s in them. Gavin stays a step behind me as we limp our way down the hallway and take a sharp left. We make another left, and I can smell the warm scent of cinnamon and honey. We must be near the kitchen. Gavin takes the lead and stops in front of a metal door. He knocks once and then opens it.

Mack’s sitting at a large, round metal table in the center of a white, barren room. Weldon is standing behind him. The two halves of the Dagger rest on red velvet fabric. His hands are splayed out in front of it and his eyes are glued to me. The dark circles under his eyes have deepened. The color of his skin has taken on a grayish hue. His eyes have saddened.

“We want to thank you for your efforts, and for retrieving the impossible,” he says, sounding like he’s reading a script and nothing like the Mack I knew. He’s looking at me, but he’s really looking through me at some horrific image I can’t even begin to fathom.

“It was nothing,” I say coldly, heartlessly. We both know the truth. My parents get the raw end of the deal.

I think he winces, but the movement is so small, it’s hard to tell. “The High Priesthood has asked that you complete the spell needed to put the Dagger back together.”

“She just woke up,” Jaxen says, disappointment and disgust plaguing his voice.

Weldon hangs his head. Mack doesn’t look at him. Maybe he’s scared to. Maybe he knows how weak we must see him as, how traitorous and cold. “It’s coming from a command higher than my own. She must do as they say.”

“Or what? They’ll sentence me to the Underground? It’s no different than if I step outside of these walls,” I say, staring down at him. I want him to know. I want him to feel what I feel, to suffer the way I’m suffering. “They’re going to use me, Maddock. Is that what you want for me? Is that all I am to this Coven? A tool?”

Jaxen places his hand on my back, supporting me. “If she does this, everything we never wanted to happen will begin. If not by the Darkyns, then by our own. We can’t go back from it.”

Mack’s head remains hung. His fingers curl into themselves. “As I have said, these are her orders, and she will follow them.” His eyes find mine and lock me in place. His lips go thin, and his voice drops to a whisper. “If you want answers, if you want hope in finding your parents, you will do this. You will play along with their demands. You
will trust that I know what I’m doing.”

I look to Weldon, and he dips his head in agreement. I close my eyes and count to ten. He knows things, things that I can’t even begin to imagine, things that will only be found if I follow along with the Priesthood. “Fine,” I say and step up to the table. Mack looks up at me, salvation in his eyes. I don’t know what they hung over his head, but whatever it is, it’s his driving force, and I just granted him another day by agreeing.

He pulls a book off his lap and places it on the table. He carefully flips it to the page where the spell is and points. I take a breath and read the words, putting all of my intent into the spell.

“Dagger of truth, split by the Divine, restore yourself, for now you are mine.”

The last word ceases and the two halves of the Dagger lift into the air and come together, fitting like a puzzle piece. White light seals the crack, and then the blade falls back to the table, whole once more.

“It’s done,” I say, staring blindly at the one weapon that will be all of our undoing.

Mack carefully covers it with the cloth and picks it up before standing. “Good. I will alert the High Priesthood. Head back to the infirmary and await your orders. Once we have a clear shot, we will head to Ethryeal City.”

“I can’t wait,” I say, lying straight through my teeth.

Jaxen takes me back to the room I was in, and we find Cassie and Jezi waiting by the door. They look worlds better than Jaxen and Gavin, more shaken than anything. I’m surprised that Jezi makes eye contact with me. I’m even more surprised to find concern swimming under her thick lashes. They move aside, and Jaxen and I hobble into our shared room.

“Are you going to let me try to heal you now?” Jezi says to Jaxen when he nearly falls on his bed. I want to reach out for him, to heal him myself, but I can’t. I’m spent emotionally, physically, mentally…every which way possible.

He grunts when she lifts his bad leg up on the bed, and then growls through clenched teeth when she rips the fabric away from his leg. I have to grip the bed to keep myself from passing out. Blood. It’s everywhere, pouring from his wound and covering his leg. His eyes roll back, and his head hits the pillow, and I’m on my feet, rushing to his side. Cassie grabs me by the stomach, and I nearly scream from the pain that ignites in my leg.

“Whoa there, hero. You’re not
gonna do any of us any good until you’re patched up too,” she says, putting me back on my bed. I’m so weak I hadn’t even noticed my emotions flickering back to life. She lifts the bandages off my leg, and I immediately regret looking. My leg is a wreck. From the ankle all the way up to my knee, open patches of skin are burned down to my muscle, and swollen blisters mar my skin. I bite down on my tongue and fight to shut everything off.

But I’m just so tired.

Jaxen screams from the bed next to me, and I feel it through my core. His pain is mine and mine is his. Gavin leaves the foot of my bed and rushes over to Jaxen. Weldon runs into the room and helps pin him down.