Everlasting (Night Watchmen, #1) (9 page)

I don’t like that he makes my future sound like a science experiment or like a stray animal he found that he doesn’t know what to do with. I should have a choice, a say in the matter. I think he sees my unease.

“Is that okay, Miss. Middleton?”

“Do I have a choice?”

He smiles, and I can’t tell if it’s full of pity or pride. He doesn’t answer me. He doesn’t have to. He scratches the underside of his chin, and then looks over at Jaxen. “From here on out, I’m placing her in your capable hands to train. She will have to ride out the dormant program for the time being to keep a cover in the Coven world. You will keep her safe, teach her everything you know, and give her every advantage that any other novice in our program has. You will have full access to the resources here at the Academy to train her, under the stipulation that it is done when there is no chance of the other novices, first year to fourth year, discovering her training.”

I can feel the shock and disdain pulling each and every one of Jaxen’s muscles tight. I can feel him shrivel away from me. I can see the horror on his face, and I hate what it does to my stomach, heart, and lungs.

“Wait… what?” he asks in opposition, jolting forward so quickly that I think he takes my nerves along with the movement.

“You’ve been asking for a chance to prove yourself, have you not?” Mack states calmly, undeterred.

“Yes, sir,” Jaxen says evenly, dangerously, sounding caught between what he wants and doesn’t want, sounding like a starving animal caught in a corner with his captor dangling food in front of him. His hands are clenched so tight, I think the skin on his fists might crack.

Mack leans forward, his palms flat against the table. His eyes speak business. “Here’s your big chance. You’re one of the best, youngest, brightest Watchmen we have. You graduated at the top of your class, and your quota for paranormal containments each month far exceeds everyone else before and after your graduating class. If anyone is capable of whipping her up into shape under a constraint of time, I have faith that it is you. Train her, protect her, and help her. When all is said and done, there may be a promotion available, a government job.”

Great, so I’
m to become a means to an end.
I nearly have to shove my fist in my mouth to keep from protesting, to keep from screaming.

Each one of Jaxen
’s knuckles crack in his balled-up hands. His chest heaves slightly off, but his eyes, they never waiver. They never bow down. “And Jezi?”

“She’s your affinity partner, isn’t she?” Mack says. He’s reveling in this. His smile is dancing with victory.
I hate every second of it. “I’ll send for her, and for your brother and his Witch as well. You and Gavin will be responsible for her Hunter side, and Jezi and Cassie will be responsible for her Witch training.”

Jaxen looks as if he’s just been shot. He stands up, nods his agreement, and starts for the door.

“But what about my parents?” I ask, feeling the truth slipping through my fingers.

Mack sucks in a deep breath. He shuts his eyes, and then releases the breath. His words fall precisely into place. “There are some things we are trying to work out internally. You will be informed the moment I receive more information.” I’m lost in the frozen tundra of his tone, in the methodical ease at which he spews the fate of the two people I hold closest to my heart, but Mack…he doesn’t miss a beat.

He stands, waiting for me to follow suit. “I have a crowd full of curiosity to clear up in the auditorium,” he says evenly, passing me back off to Jaxen. “Go. Enjoy the Samhain Festival tonight. You will be given word of a room later. You are dismissed.”

I
press my back against
the wall as soon as I’m outside of his office, bearing my weight against the cool solid surface. I try to control the shaking in my hands as I push a strand of hair out of my face.
Breathe in, breathe out.
Breathe in, breathe out.
It takes a moment before everything stops spinning, before gravity grabs a hold of me and yanks me back into the present. Questions thunder down upon me, threatening to crush me to the ground.

What the hell just happened? What did I just agree to? What did he mean by ‘in
ternal issues?’

My mind feels like it’s being pulled in a taffy machine. Each end holds the explanation of what’s happening around me, rational and irrational. Back and forth, my mind stretches out the answers, seeking out the most logical, until the pulling finally wears thin, leaving nothing but the truth. Something has awoken within me, a truth and understanding that has always been there, but never quite fully realized, a primitive instinct that had been kept secret by my parents.

As mad as I want to be at them for hiding this from me, the logical side of my brain tells me I know better. They wouldn’t have done this to me to hurt me. They love me. They had to be protecting me from this.

I cast my eyes to the wood-framed ceiling, trying to find strength within myself.
You can do this. You were meant for this. This is everything you’ve ever wanted
, I think.
Your parents are suffering. You’re selfish. You don’t deserve this,
I think.

Words, it’s all just words. Words have no strength unless acted upon. Words can’t lift me off the floor, and they surely can’t remedy everything that has happened. The only thing they can offer is a false sense of comfort coming from the right mouth, and right now, the right mouth is nowhere to be found.

I sigh, close my eyes, and sag to the floor. If only I could talk to my parents, get their guidance, their words of wisdom that have the power to help me see past the blinding pain of being stuck in the unknown. My chest feels tight, and I find myself wanting to scream, to pull at my hair, cry, anything just to get through the emotions tearing at my soul.

Just to finally be able to breathe again.

I feel him standing in front of me without ever even opening my eyes, without ever hearing his steps. He’s that quiet, that soundless. The energy in his presence is demanding and consuming all in the same, and, for a moment, I’m tempted to pull him down to me and tuck myself inside the strength of his arms, to hide myself from the outside world and just listen to his steady heart beat.

But I can’t do that. That isn’t me.

I take a deep breath and hold it before opening my eyes. Even if I found the courage to ask for the hug I need, I know he wouldn’t give in to my request. I just caused his train of comfort to derail. I also know I have no business hugging him, not when he has an affinity partner. He’s probably scowling right now. Maybe he even hates me for it. I can’t blame him. It’s a tall order. There’s only one way to find out.

When I open my eyes, he’s crouched down in front of me, wearing a sad smile that sort of enhances the light green of his eyes. “I know I already asked this, but…” He clears his throat and moves closer, his knee brushing against mine. “But umm…I just wanted to ask if you were okay. That was a lot to take in. A lot to hear,” he pauses, “and not hear.”

My parents.

My nerve endings are shocked to life as a tingly feeling settles in my chest, unwinding the tightness that has built up. The way he’s looking at me, it isn’t the kind of sympathy that says he feels sorry for me. It’s the understanding kind, the kind that says he knows what I’m feeling. He’s been in my shoes. He’s been alone when faced with the world.

“My parents,” I say, taking it word by word to keep my voice from cracking, “I’m worried about them.” I pause, inhaling deeply to push the ache in my throat away. I don’t want to admit to him that I’m scared and full of guilt, that if maybe I hadn’t been so selfish, they might still be here, that I have prayed and prayed and prayed for my mother to be wrong, and that hearing all of this, that I’m not a Defect, was supposed to make it all better. It was supposed to arm me with confidence I could share with my parents, but it hasn’t.

Actually, it’s made everything worse. It’s worse because even if I suck it up and go along with it, I’m still going along alone, without my parents.

His hand lifts, pausing in mid-air, right beside my arm. It’s so close I can feel the heat radiating off his palm. My skin burns for his touch.

Do it.

I can see his fingers shaking, reaching a little further, almost on my arm, but then they close into a fist and his hand falls back down to his side. He exhales and runs the hand that should have touched my shoulder through his thick hair, tugging on the ends. “I umm…everything will be okay. Gavin and I will get you trained.” Slowly, with every word he speaks, his voice reverts back to its cold tone. “You should go though. Meet up with your friend. She’s probably looking for you.”

“Katie?” I’m shocked he noticed.

“Yeah,” he says quickly, hiding his eyes from mine, “you should go find her.” He stops, stares off to the side for a moment, and then looks at me and sighs. “I know it seems impossible, but you should try to enjoy the Samhain Festival.”

He stands and I follow, gripping the wall my whole way up. I hang on to the seconds passing by, just waiting for his words.

“I’ll catch up with you later, or tomorrow, when I have a better idea of what’s happening.”

“You’re not coming?” I ask. I forget to hide the slight disappointment from my voice and my cheeks turn the color of light pink roses because of it.

He rubs the back of his neck, looking everywhere but at me. “Parties aren’t my thing.”

I tug at the end of my shirt. “All right,” I say, staring at the tip of his boots. I shut my eyes, and when I open them, his boots are gone.

My head pounds as I
step out under the setting sun. I just want to be alone, to hide underneath a safe haven of covers. Katie and I used to do that when I was younger. She’d bring a flashlight over, and we’d stay under the covers until I felt better, but those days seem so far away now…almost as if they never happened. I could really use her ear right about now.

I walk out into the courtyard and I’m numb to what’s around me, sedated by the unspoken words I’m still waiting for Mack to say. I can feel the curious stares of the few people who walk past me, but instead of feeling embarrassed, I just feel an overwhelming need to find Katie. To find some piece of my home.

My eyes water. This campus is thousands and thousands of feet wide. There’s so much to explore, so many spaces and special spots just waiting to be claimed, so many places for her to be. What if they’ve been let out of the ceremony? How will I know where they are? Novices aren’t told what the initiation ritual consists of. What if I can’t find her?

It seems as though my life has turned into a huge clattering mess of what if’s.

Across the courtyard, the novices make their way out of the auditorium. Their parents follow behind, wearing shaky smiles. Relief rushes past my lips on an exhale, but what happened during my Culling still lingers in the air. I can see it on the many blending faces. I take a step back, and then another and another. How can I show my face amongst them? How can I go to the festival when I know every eye will gravitate toward me, inspecting and probing and silently calling me a freak.

Because I am a freak.

But now is not the time for me to have a panic attack. Now I have to put on my costume of courage and act just like how Mack told me to act…like a dormant novice waiting for my affinity partner to come of age.
You can do this
, I tell myself.

I lie to myself.

I never have been a good liar though. The truth always paints itself onto my face, whether I want it to or not. The lies always jumble on my tongue, never seeing the light of day, but this isn’t a lie I can afford to screw up just for the sake of remaining honorable. This isn’t a lie I want to meddle with. I close my eyes and repeat Mack’s story four times to myself, hoping that, at some point, I’ll begin to believe it, that if I say the lie enough, I’ll begin to think of it as the truth.

When the chanting stops, I open my eyes. The eyes of a liar. Somehow, my feet carry me toward the commotion. Somehow, I worm my way through the crowd of overjoyed parents and overwhelmed novices without shrinking from their curious stares. Somehow, I find Katie, and, somehow, she’s not wearing a smile.

“Hey,” I say, sliding in next to her. I shove my hands into my pockets and toss a smile out like I’m tossing a quarter into a wishing well. I wish for them to believe me; to see me as happy and whole. But I notice her parents avoiding my direct gaze and can only imagine what’s being shared between their thoughts. They’re trying to act cool, like they hadn’t witnessed my horrific Culling, like they didn’t know I was a freak.

My smile fades a little.

I turn to Katie. She’s staring at someone across the way. I follow her gaze past the small serpent-like birthmark she now bears on the inside crook of her elbow, her affinity mark, and find a plethora of faces and bodies and laughter.

“What are we looking at?” I ask, trying to sound calm and curious.

“The dude right there,” she points, “the one with the chestnut colored hair. Big guy. The kind that can take out a bulldozer.” She never looks in my direction while speaking. She’s glued to him; to her affinity partner. He’s exactly as she described him. His biceps are as thick as his thighs, and his chest bulges underneath the black cotton v-neck he wears. His face is angular and sharp, and his eyes are small but lined with dark lashes. He looks like a jock…a jerk…maybe even a womanizer.

“Do you like him?” I ask carefully.

“Chett?” She sounds uncomfortable with the name. I can tell she’s only said it maybe once or twice. She shrugs, and when her shoulders drop, they seem to pull her lips along with them. “I don’t have a good feeling about him. Chett Carter. Even the name sounds wrong.” She finally looks at me, and all the fear and disappointment swirls in her amber eyes. “It doesn’t feel right in my mouth. Or in my heart.”

“Nerves are always present when you first meet your partner,” Jonathon offers. He rubs the side of her arm. “It took a week to get a single smile from your mother.” His brows raise, waiting for Katie to accept his words.

That doesn’t surprise me. It doesn’t seem to surprise Katie either.

“Mom never smiles,” she says dismissively, “and that’s not what I mean anyway. I think…I think he…I think he hates me. I mean, I think he hates Witches.” I pull her into a hug, because I can hear that she’s on the verge of crying. Her parents exchange worried glances. They must know something, something Katie doesn’t need to hear in this moment.

“No one could hate you, Kat,” I offer encouragingly, looking away from her parents and down at her. “You’re one in a million.”

She wraps her arms around my waist and hugs me tight. “Thanks.” She sniffs once and then
lets go. “So what about you? Did you hear all that screaming? Where’s your partner?” She’s wiping under her eyes and straightening her clothes, pulling herself back together like she always does. Nothing can tear her down.

I just wish I could say the same for myself.

I shift awkwardly beneath her questions, feeling like every word digs my hole of shame deeper and deeper. I almost can’t hear her beneath the battering memories of the horrific moment everything went wrong. I try not to notice her parents babbling awkwardly to each other, pretending not to hear Katie’s questions, pretending not to know.

“Well?” Katie asks, looking between her parents and me. Her forehead scrunches a little as the dots of truth are dangerously close to connecting for her. I want to pluck them away before she figures
it out, before she realizes I’m different, but her insistence beats me to it. “That wasn’t you…was it?”

“I uh…” I’m not prepared to answer this. I went over and over my answer to this question before I walked over here, and I’m still not prepared for it. What am I again? What am I supposed to say? What were Mack’s words? My mouth twists and my lips pinch together as I desperately search for the lie I’m supposed to recite. I think I’ve stretched out the bottom half of my shirt.